Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cloud was okay with the fact he wasn't special. 

He got up for work at 6 am sharp while feeling like death warmed over. For anything to be awake at six am was unholy, much less Cloud. 

He made his lunch that consisted of cured meat, fried bread, and a single store-bought pudding cup. The same thing as yesterday and the same thing as tomorrow.

He traveled across a stretch of the mountain to his mako reactor job and seamlessly became a face in the crowd of other factory workers. A gray sea of jumpsuits and respirator masks. Hundreds of people from nearby villages and townships commuted in on buses or walked from Nibelheim to work. Reactor work was stable. It was relatively safe if you didn’t mind the risk of mako poisoning. Cloud should be thankful for his employment. No matter how soul sucking. It paid the bills and allowed him to live a life he could tolerate.

The job title he held was reactor monitor, which was a pompous way to say he did what the engineers told him, and that normally involved reading heat levels and inspecting cooling rod corrosion. He moved from room to room. He weaved in and out of other factory workers' ways. He read what the dials said and tapped their numbers onto the tablet. Heat was steady. Pressure was good. O2 levels were a little high. Mako waste was at normal levels. It wasn’t hard work, better than the mindless assembly line, but it was dull enough to drain him. Tiredness crept into his bones, and it never felt justified. The work was never enough for the ache in his bones to feel warranted. It was just inputting gauge readings into a computer. It might have been better if he had someone. Anyone . His only friend had been Tifa, and she headed off to the big city. Maybe he should have followed her. They hadn’t spoken in years.

 The only days when he didn’t keep a stony silence involved fists. Old habits that wouldn’t be crushed from days before the cogs of a system forced him into a shape that would keep the entire thing running.

Lunch hit, and the lunchroom was another big gray room. It was the only room in the factory where they weren’t required to wear the clunky respirator masks. Cloud yanked his off as fast as he could and threw it in his locker while grabbing his lunch. He didn’t try to socialize with his coworkers, not that Shinra allowed them to talk at lunch. The big Shinra Factory Rules were posted in every room, a depressing reminder of their lot in life. One of them was that talking during breaks was forbidden unless spoken to by an overseer. It was some kind of anti-unionization tactic. That’s why Cloud sat next to Liam, who was deaf and didn’t have much use for conversation without the hearing aid, which he took out at lunch. You won't get in trouble next to the one person who didn’t try to sneak gossip. When Liam spoke he didn’t care about the volume only that the other person understood he was deaf and stopped trying to talk to him.  He ate his venison jerky and swapped his vanilla pudding cup for Liam’s chocolate one. 

It was ok. 

Liam signs, “Thank you,” and Cloud signs “You’re welcome,” back. The TV droned some bullshit propaganda going on in Midgar.

Sigh . 

Back to work. Cloud wanted to break something when he saw someone had taken his mask in a juvenile display of bullying. Didn’t this shit stop after puberty? The mask was regulation and failure to conform to regulation was a demerit, and a demerit meant a dock in pay. Then again, you could get a demerit for anything the overseers saw fit.

Fucking damn it. 

Cloud soothed himself by imagining burning down the reactor.

The day droned on, and his lungs protested the entire time. Mako burned the esophagus, but Cloud didn’t have the break time to go to the company store tomorrow to buy a new one. Almost half of the entire reactor was covered by Cloud and his team. They’d start on the other half tomorrow. They repeat the same thing the day after. Looked, read, inputted, repeated till the moon hung overhead. The end of day whistle echoed.

Finally.  

They all shuffled back to the clock-out terminal in robotic lines. 

Failure to leave on time was a demerit.

Cloud clocked out a zombie in all but state of decomposition and walked back home to his little cabin.

The walk home was silent besides the howling wind, the only mercy was his fur lined boots that kept out any melted snow that wanted to soak his socks. The cabin was two stories and despite it all was home. Cloud unlocked the door and met with a cold main room that connected to a kitchen. He only just bothered to heat up some canned soup on the kitchen stove and get the room warmed up with the iron wood stove that wasn’t in the kitchen but in the main room. There is technically a stove in the kitchen, but that involved Cloud paying a gas bill which he did not have the money for. He sat on his mattress that was in front of the stove and ate subpar soup. The crackle of the fire was nice, and Cloud made shadow puppets on the wall. Once upon a time he had dreams. 

The kind that made people go to war or chase glory; that made young men stupid and dead.

He once had wanted more than Nibelheim could ever give him.

He once had dreams of being a SOLDIER. 

Then life had other plans. Plans that involved bad lungs and stunted growth.

So he did the realistic thing and gave up.

He settled. 

He worked. 

It never killed the horrible feeling that he was missing something. That this wasn’t supposed to be it. It crept up on him in the small hours of the morning when sleep evaded him or in the boring parts of life like eating and bathing. This wasn’t where he was supposed to be. His wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing. Cloud prayed at home and in the Hall, but the gods never gave him answers. He set out fruit for the Goddess, but she didn’t answer him either. 

This couldn’t be it? Could it? Just alone in a cold cabin on the edge of town. Wasn’t he meant for more than this? 

Cloud took another bite to eat

6 am came too early and too quickly. Get up, pack lunch, go to work. Work was fine. 

(“Do you think you’re meant for more than this?” Cloud had asked before clocking out. 

“I bring home a paycheck that puts food on my wife’s plate, so I don’t really care if I was,” Salem, Cloud’s team leader said clearly bothered that she was being spoken to. 

“Yeah- I guess,” Cloud had stammered out, and tried to rub the awkwardness out of his arms.)

Trudging through the snow was maybe a bad idea for anyone other than Cloud. He was raised in these mountains, knew them like the lines of his palm. Other people though? The mountain killed other people with monsters or frost. He was raised on the rule of respect the mountain’s might and fear its anger, which is why he wasn’t surprised to find a vaguely man-shaped hill with a hand partially uncovered by snow. This wasn’t the first dead body he’d found up here, and probably wouldn’t be the last. Cloud stared down at the person in the snow.

What if he just didn’t bother . It wasn’t his fault some dumbass got himself frozen this far away from town. He could just leave and let his tracks be covered by snowfall. 

Cloud brushed snow away from the head area to see the face anyway, and nearly screamed. 

This is such a stupid idea.

Cloud knew he was prone to bouts of dumbassary, but this took the cake. This was worse than the time he played Chocobo with a Nibel dragon and had to be bailed out by his mom. This was worse than starting a food fight in the great hall. This was even worse than trying to steal from Alvin Rustles, the biggest kid on his street who happened to hate his gut because….. Cloud didn’t know. He existed? 

This was stupider than all that. 

Cloud was dragging a passed out General Sephiroth with a massive BLACK BIRD WING ON HIS BACK through the snow into his poor excuse of a house. Why? What would make him do such a colossally stupid thing?

Because his Ma raised him with manners. Nibels don’t let city folk die in the snow when they underestimate the mountain. General Sephiroth was a city boy. No self-respecting backwater mountain citizen had that much skin showing that often. It was just asking the Frost Giants to blow a winter storm through. Cloud looked down at the bare chest of the most famous person on the continent, then looked away to save his last shred of self-respect. 

General Sephiroth was supposed to be leading a parade right now. He was, in fact, Cloud had seen it on live TV back at the reactor. 

So what was this? 

The bitter mako drenched air of the area surrounding the area of the reactor where he worked burned his lungs without a mask. Sephiroth went *clunk* over a rock and Cloud winced. He was trying to be gentle, but his knees were acting up and that always meant a storm, and they *really* didn’t want to get caught in a storm. That was the worst thing to get caught in, in his humble opinion, and Cloud had been caught in a lot of things. 

He was dragging General Sephiroth, the silver demon of Wutai, through the snow. What was his life?

Once inside, Cloud got the iron stove going, shoving some pieces of wood into it to warm the house. Cloud’s house was small and dank, but it kept him on the edge of town away from the children who placed possums in his wood piles and rotted fruit in his mailbox. He liked being alone.  Alone was safe.  Well, he wasn’t alone anymore. As the house warmed, he watched as the massive black bird wing twitched and retracted close to his body. 

The wing was beautiful; dark as the clear night sky, and there were soap bubble rainbows within the feathers. Cloud wanted to take a feather to make a quill pen out of. 

Sephiroth shifted, eyes that were much more green in person looked at him. Cloud’s stomach roiled. It reminded him of a predator deciding if a piece of prey was worth going after. 

He was being sized up to be eaten.

Cloud knew that prey was the right word as his heart pounded in his chest like a rabbit yanking its foot in an attempt to escape only to ensnare the trap tighter around its leg.  

In a moment, quicker than Cloud could comprehend, Sephiroth pinned him by the throat to the wall of his cabin. Hands forged into an iron strong grip by warfare and closed around his throat. Air struggled to enter his body, and he fought hopelessly; each breath shallow and gasping. Even with one eye closed in pain, Cloud could still see the precision that Sephiroth inspected him with. His gaze tore through the walls of Cloud’s facade that he carefully presented to everyone else. Sephiroth looked at the parts of him he hated, the parts he loved, and the parts he cursed for being so unfortunately mediocre. 

“Why can I see myself in your eyes? Why Do I Not See Those You Cherish In Your Eyes, Cloud Strife ,”

Sephiroth didn’t shout, as he exerted his presence so greatly to overwhelm every other sound in the room. Cloud felt hot tears run down his cheeks. He was going to be choked to death by a Sephiroth. He’d wasted his one chance at life. Darkness hazed around the edges of his vision; his lungs and throat screamed or maybe that was just him. He didn’t want to die here. He didn’t want dying to be the most interesting thing he does.

As the first tear dropped onto Sephiroth’s hand, he yanked back. The little droplet born from both the pain of having his windpipe crushed and from the thought of dying became the center of his universe. He stared down as if the mere existence of the little drop was an affront to logic.

Cloud took the chance to run. 

He ran into the snow he’d grown up in. The snow that took his mother. The snow that bit at his exposed skin and snarled at the rest of him. Cloud ran till his legs gave out and collapsed in a heap of fear and adrenaline. He shook on the ground in a ball, clutching at his legs. They burned inside and out at the abuse. He had to get up, run. Run! His breath fogged up in front of him. It swirled with the wintertime wind, mixing with the flurry of wind. The cold numbed his mind the same way it numbed his hands. It split his attention between the pain in his body and the threat that hounded him. The skies, he had to watch the skies, but his legs hurt so much that he couldn’t move. 

The sound of massive wings appeared above him. Sephiroth with his rainbow wings hovered in the air, not flying but just suspended there like something placed directly into the world without any thought for physics or gravity. It reminded Cloud of the Valkyries painted on the ceiling of the Great Hall, but he knew if he was caught there would be no Valhalla on the other side. He dived wings pinned close, and Cloud was helpless except to watch him grow closer and closer. At the last second, his wings snapped open stopping his drop whipping up snow into a flurry. Cloud never saw Sephiroth’s hand grab him, but Cloud screamed as he went higher and higher. The rapidly thinning air made it hard to focus on panicking, made it hard to focus at all. Thoughts swirled and swam, before disappearing completely. 

Cloud passed out before Sephiroth even noticed.

Cloud awoke with a start to Sephiroth staring at him very intently. He was laid out on his bed with this awful feeling that Sephiroth had been staring at him the entire time he was out. 

“Your eyes are wrong,” Sephiroth says it like an accusation. How could his eyes be the wrong? They’d always been blue. The kind of blue that people who got nice weather pictured the sky as. Blue-blue, not the smoky gray blue that colored the Nibel sky. It was the one thing he liked about himself.

“What- what color are they supposed to be?” Cloud choked out. It was useless to try to keep the tremble from his voice. 

“Green.” Sephiroth narrowed his own very green eyes. 

“You are not my equal. You’re a poor excuse for a facsimile. You tarnish the memory of his stre-“ Sephiroth stops his strange tirade so abruptly, Cloud flinched. He paused and tilted his head like a marionette. 

“I don’t want to kill you,” Sephiroth sounds curious. As if the idea of not wanting someone dead, or maybe him specifically, was a novelty . Blood dripped from Sephiroth’s nose. It splashed down onto the brown wood floors of the cabin. The blood wasn’t glowing or green like bad rumors said it was. 

Just red.

Like Cloud’s.

Then Sephiroth collapsed like every muscle in his body just gave out all at once ass over teakettle; passed out face-first into the floor. 

Cloud flinched sharply at the sudden movement. Then winced a little in sympathy. He’d made friends with that floor and intimately knew exactly how hard it was. Sephiroth made no hint of moving for a solid 10 minutes as Cloud sat on his bed paralyzed. A part of him had the inane idea to poke him with a stick to see if he’d twitch. That course of action was quickly shot and killed.

What the hell did he do now?

The knots weren’t good, but they were at least on him. Not that tying up Sephiroth was anything but a waste of rope. Ankles were tied together, and his wrists were tied to his ankles in a hogtie. One final rope wrapped around his torso to keep that wing tucked away. Cloud had done better work in the past, but he’d also done a lot worse. Cloud sat with his hunting rifle tucked close to his chest, with bullets in his hand, just staring. Sephiroth was just as pretty in person as on TV, which was a shame because now Sephiroth seemed ready to kill him.

Or…

Not kill him? Based on the end of that entire homicide attempt. 

Sephiroth shifted and moved slightly in his bindings as if he were having a bad dream. The murmuring became louder, and Cloud rapidly became sick to his stomach. The faint murmurs were calls for his mother. Even the demon of Wutai had a mother at one point. Cloud tightened his grip on his gun, as the uncanny green eyes slowly opened up. He looked down at the rope around his body in confusion. Then promptly broke them. 

Waste of good rope. 

“If I wanted you dead. You’d be dead by now,” Cloud blinked and Sephiroth was standing in front of him. How the Hel did he do that? Panic spiked in his chest as Cloud made the same dash to the outside as before, for some reason when he was outside he’d been spared. The mountain would protect. His path was blocked by the massive black wing. An iron grip latched onto his arm tight enough to bruise. 

“Do not scurry away like a cowardly rat,” His voice was as hard and punishing as his grip. The prideful part of his brain, what was left of it anyway, felt that running away was a very justified and sensible action. Of course, he was going to run away. A second grip latched onto his chin and jaw, wrenching his face to look at Sephiroth’s so hard it hurt. 

The same feeling of being inspected wriggled under his skin. Of having all his secrets and shame be inspected on a dissection table as catlike eyes raked across his face, taking in every flaw and imperfection. Cloud felt another wave of panic, it crept up his spine and made his heart pound in his chest. What was he looking for? What did Cloud have that this guy wanted?  Sephiroth couldn’t seem to find it, because he kept Cloud trapped, holding his face and arm till they ached from the touch. 

This was the most anyone has touched him in months. His skin prickled under the attention. 

His lungs joined his heart in working overdrive. His breathing sped up, which made his heart beat faster and he couldn’t control it. His body wasn’t listening to him. Stop it. Slow down. Stop. Breathe. Breathe. He can’t breathe, a Valkyrie has his face in his grasp. Piercing, uncanny eyes burn into his face. The hand on his face and arm burns, burns, bur-.

Sephiroth’s expression twitches, then he yawns . The big one that shutters though your body. Was terrifying Cloud boring him? Was his suffering tedious? It was damn near comical at the expression on Seohiroth’s face. Like when puppies were spooked by their own bark, or babies when they make upsetting discoveries about their own sounds.

Sephiroth let Cloud go to look confused at his hands, or maybe just at himself. Cloud caught Sephiroth’s yawn, or maybe it was just— Gaia 4am – and Cloud had work in two hours. Sephiroth looked just as perplexed at Cloud yawning. 

“Do you not know what a yawn is?” What the fuck was he doing? Why was he talking to the murder bird?

“Yawn… A yawn means I’m tired ,” He spoke like he was reading from a “how to human” instruction manual, but it was written by aliens, and also in Ancient. 

“What do I– sleep. I’d forgotten about sleep,” Sephiroth looks around dazed, a shark tipped onto its back. Cloud was too afraid to ask how Sephiroth, or Not-Sephiroth because again Sephiroth was in Midgar distinctly wingless, forgot sleeping. As Sephiroth remembered things like ‘tired’, it seemed to have more effect on him. His eyes drooped, and his face fell into a mask of weary indifference. He blinked slowly and lethargic, and even his big wing relaxed. 

“I’m so tired,” Sephiroth spoke with an exhaustion that Cloud hated he understood to the deepest parts of his soul. It was so much more than just a lack of sleep. The kind of weary that irradiated your bones and soul. 

Carefully and cautiously, Cloud moved around Sephiroth like one would a sleepy dragon to the linen closet. Sephiroth watched him move but made no further actions other than a small tense when the closet opened. Cloud offered a pillow and blanket to Sephiroth. 

What else was he supposed to do? 

Run, probably.

He didn’t though, Cloud was stupid like that.

Sephiroth, strangely gentle, grabbed them. He inspected them, much like he had done to Cloud not 10 minutes before. A large hand gently stroked the cotton pillowcase. 

“Soft,” He whispered.

Sephiroth settled on the floor with his back to the wall as if on autopilot or a puppet on strings. He stayed like that, waiting for something Cloud didn’t know. 

Good Gaia and more, how did he get here?

Cloud didn’t sleep. 

Chapter Text

Cloud woke to the same shrill alarm as normal. He looked around his room in a sleepy haze. Something was off. 

He looked to the ceiling, squinting. He was forgetting something important. It was right in his mouth. 

“What is that alarm for,” Sephiroth appeared long silver hair streamed down in sheets. Cloud yelped then froze as he did the last time. The position over his head made Sephiroth bigger and the denied Cloud looking anywhere else than those piercing green eyes. Previously strength to run away had been thanks to the rush of adrenaline, but now in the early hours of the morning Cloud barely had his head on. The alarm started again, a shrill unpleasant interruption. Sephiroth glared at the alarm before stopping the noise. The machine crumpled easily under the strength of a soldier first. The poor plastic bastard never stood a chance. His sacrifice will be remembered.

“ What is the alarm for,” Sephiroth repeated, leaning in closer. 

“I- SHIT WORK,” Cloud used the excuse to dart around Sephiroth to grab lunch and shove it in his work bag. There was a part of his brain that recognized the insanity in being worried about his job when there was a potential Sephiroth clone in his house. The smarter part of his brain reminded him that clone or no, if he was late he could lose the one source of income he had. Maybe this was the mentality that kept him stuck where he was. There was a winged man in his living room, and he was worried about getting fired. That felt twisted somehow.

“Work?” Sephiroth flared his wing out to stop Cloud’s darting around the room getting ready. 

“Yes, at the reactor,” Cloud ducked around, pulled on his itchy jumpsuit, and grabbed enough Gil from savings to buy a new mask. Momentary insanity and the adrenaline of being late wiped all rational thought about the winged issue in his house. 

“Shinra,” Sephiroth’s face twisted into a rage, but Cloud unluckily missed it running out the door.

Cloud really did try to focus on his work. Tried to not be a hindrance to his team, but he saw a pure black feather in Salem’s hands and nearly had a panic attack.  

By the end of the day his nerves weren’t just fried, but burned. The air was too cold and the snow crunched too loudly. It was a relief to see the house was still standing. It wouldn’t have been hard for someone as powerful as Sephiroth to wipe it off the map completely. Cloud tried to open the door. It wasn’t that it was stuck or there was something wrong with the knob. It was simple as walking up and turning the knob, but if he opened it he’d know. He’d see whatever was or wasn’t there. If he didn’t open the door then he could stay in the noxious comfort of “maybe”. If he opened the door then whatever had happened would be his problem, and he really didn’t want to deal with anything else. 

It was a massacre. 

His bed was across the room with its bedding thrown around, but his desk was blessedly whole. The same couldn’t be said about his dresser, though. The few nice rocks he’d found on his way home over the years were broken, shot put into the wall, and clothes decorated the room like at a bad party in a worse movie. The clothes line that normally lived near the wood stove was nowhere to be seen. Said little wood stove that heated his house had a fist shaped dent in it. His rations were also thrown in violent ways. Flour coated the floor and slabs of raw meat, previously frozen, now thawed on the floor. 

Cloud felt the tears well in his eyes and hated it. He’d always been an easy crier, and that had only given the neighborhood kids more ammo. Specifically it always opened the door for being told he was overreacting, and turned him into the boy who cried wolf. 

“It didn’t really hurt! Cloud cries all the time,”

It had hurt. 

Cloud hated that he cried, but cry he did. After a long day at work and seeing the state of his home; it was all too much.  Fat hot tears burned down his face. A hiccup worked its way out of him. A strong sniffle left the back of his mouth tasting like snot. He cried and sat in the middle of his trashed house. Shamed burned in his chest at his stress response even while alone. What deity had he pissed off? 

There was only one person who could have done this, and that fight was lost before it even began. 

There was nothing that could right this situation, so sit and cry he did. He cried till the tears worked every emotion, good or bad, out of him till there was only exhaustion.

Cloud wiped his tears. 

He rubbed his eyes.

He got to work. 

It started with the food to see what was salvageable (some meat was shot, but there was still flour left in the bag. He’d live off love till the next paycheck). Then moved to picking up his clothes, too exhausted to do anything but toss them into a pile. He flipped his mattress to something usable. Cloud looked over his house that was barely livable again. Nothing truly important had been broken, but the mess threatened to make him cry again. Just thinking about having to clean all the spilled flour. Goddess.

Cloud just went to bed with his dirty comforter and work clothes still on.

The new day started with the sounds of something large being set down. The large thump startled Cloud awake. Sephiroth had returned from wherever he had gone and was placing his dresser back in its proper place. Sephiroth side eyed him from where he was on the mattress, which was the middle of the floor. 

“I threw a tantrum. I am not a child, so I will fix my mistakes,” Like that was a normal thing to say. Well it was normal, but it wasn’t coming from him. 

“Uh- Thanks?” Cloud mumbled, but wasn’t dignified with a response. He seemed almost human as he moved about the room, and only occasionally terrified Cloud to ask him where something went. He was, admittedly, a good clean-up crew. 

Cloud didn’t have work, so he was free to watch him tidy the room.  

“Move,” Sephiroth assumed his favorite position of looming over Cloud. 

“Huh?” Cloud says, in a stroke of genius. 

The black wing nudged him off the mattress with a surprising amount of gentleness. Being moved by a wing was an odd sensation, it didn’t feel like a hand or foot or other appendage that would normally be used to herd around another person. Then the mattress was placed back in its spot. Sephiroth picked Cloud up by the armpits like a cat being dangled and placed him on the now properly placed mattress, before cleaning up the rest of the room. Cloud had never been to the beach or anywhere near the ocean so he could only image what being tumbled by a wave was like. However, he had fallen through a frozen lake once as a kid and Sephiroth touching him did invoke the same chilling confusion 

“Who… are you?” Cloud was scared to speak louder than a whimper. He’d been scared for the last two days, now it was time to be brave. At least an effort at bravery. Maybe a nice try at bravery. 

“I am Sephiroth,” He said like it was obvious, “and you are Cloud Strife. The hero destined to kill me. You did kill me. I do not know why I am not dead,” 

What. 

What .

The idea of Cloud killing Sephiroth was beyond absurd. Cloud was a scrawny 20 something with asthma, a temper too big for his body, and an outcast in his own village. Cloud was a wash-up reactor worker who couldn’t get work anywhere else if he tried, except for maybe as an infantry grunt.  It wasn’t even an insult, it was just fact.

Cloud was nothing .

Sephiroth was everything.

He was the hero. The SOLDER elite. The first of his kind. He was brave and well-spoken, adored by thousands, and all the things that made someone extraordinary. 

How, in any reality, could Cloud kill Sephiroth ?

A bark of laughter bubbled out of him. The entire concept was so impossible that it was funny. Sephiroth turned to stare at Cloud. 

“How in Odin’s ravens would I ever lay a scratch on you, I can’t even breathe right,” Cloud felt something unhinge in his brain. 

“You are correct. You are not the man who killed me. That man was strong and skilled, well traveled and surrounded by allies. You are alone,” Sephiroth hadn’t moved, but it felt like Cloud had been pierced by a blade  

Cloud was alone.

Didn’t mean he liked being reminded of it.

The truth of it was bitter and hateful, so he shut up. 

“You are not a Hero, but you are the only lead I have to why I am not dead, so I am staying,” Sephiroth sat across the room. There was something in his eyes that said more, but he didn’t open his mouth.

Wait what.

Staying ?

No no no no. Cloud could barely take care of himself. How was he going to manage that entire kit and caboodle of crazy? A day ago, he didn’t understand a yawn meant he was tired. He didn’t even understand why he wasn’t dead! He thought he should be dead! 

“Do you want to be dead?” Cloud questioned. 

“Yes,” Sephiroth said and Cloud didn’t know what to say back.

"What's… stopping you?"

"I don't know,"

"You don't know?"

"I can only be killed in a way that matters by you. That is how it works. How it has always worked," Sephiroth looked so far away when he said that. Like a small boat adrift in a massive ocean. Cloud couldn’t but find it odd on Sephiroth’s face. 

“I don’t want to kill you,” Cloud admitted, growing up hunting his own food had instilled a level of respect for death. It wasn’t something that should happen for the sake of it, but things had to die. Rabbit and elk died so Cloud could eat. Killing needed a point. It had to feed another animal or at least continue another life. Killing Sephiroth wouldn’t have a purpose. It would just be violence for the sake of violance. 

“You should,” Sephiroth wasn’t angry, but something closer to bitter, something sad. 

Resigned was probably the closest word.

Cloud understood a little bit. 

Everyone was the center of their own story. They might not be the most important or even interesting, but they were all the main character with complex lives and goals. It didn’t make other people glory hounds and Cloud a humble paragon. You’re the main character of your life because you live it. Cloud had never felt like that. He was the NPC that the hero ignored. He worked a generic job in a town that didn’t matter. Sephiroth by contrast was the villain. Both were fundamentally parts to someone else's story. 

“I won’t,” Cloud says with the first bit of resolve since this entire thing started. He wouldn’t feed into his man’s self-destructive nature. Wouldn’t assist in his suicide. Not when he was the single most interesting thing to ever happen to Cloud

“Then you are just another kind-hearted fool,” He said before marching out into the cold forest.

Sephiroth had to be placed on the non-urgent list for now. He didn’t seem like he was going to pull another incident, but Cloud kept his distance anyway. A nice six-foot buffer kept them separate at all times, and there was always something to do outside. 

Maybe he could even go into town more.

…

Ha.

Anyway. 

Food was what needed his attention after his previous hunting trip was left on the floor. Sunday was hunting.

Hunting on the mountain had always been cheaper than buying meat, and even made him money.  Winter was in full throttle, so the herds of deer were unlikely to have fawns and were ripe for the picking. Several animals wandered near his hiding place in a cheap tent covered in leave and mud, but nothing that would warrant an arrow. A young doe walked in front of the hiding spot. Her delicate long legs made small tracks in the snow, and empty brown eyes looked through the snow for foliage to eat. She was safe to eat. She also wasn’t the oldest, and part of him wanted to leave her to mature and maybe have a fawn one day to keep the deer population healthy, but that risked her being contaminated by mako. 

It was getting harder and harder to find healthy animals. 

Flashes of a deer, skeletal and missing limbs hobbling around the snow, eyes glowing green and jaws continually snapping and chewing despite nothing in its mouth looking for more flesh with mako in it. Herbivores teared and pulled at the flesh of a mako soaked corpse. Wasting disease exacerbated by poisoning. It left him curled up in the cabin with a shot gun he barely knew how to use all weekend; he couldn’t get the smell of rotting meat to go away. 

Cloud notched an arrow, his exhalation left a puff of water vapor in the air as the fletching of the lined up with his chin, palm out. Calm. Focus. This would be easy. Just a clean shot through the lung. 

The deer let out a screaming call as a Zuu descended, death from above, onto the unsuspecting animal. In a clench of its talons, the deer’s rip cage collapsed in a gush of blood. 

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuck.

Monster . 

Cloud dropped to the ground and slapped his hand over his mouth. 

Don’t Make a Sound. Don’t Breathe. Don’t Think .

The horrible sound of bones being crushed and flesh ripping accompanied the thick smell of blood. It burned in his nose. Blood didn’t bother him, it was the source of the smell. 

Just let the thing eat and leave, then get the hell out of dodge. Just wait it out. Would running now attract its attention? With all the snow there was no way to move quietly. He was screwed. So royally fucked. 

Cloud heard the racing tempo of his heart in his ears, it pounded so fast it hurt. 

The Zuu made a horrific call and-

Oh, Gods. It sounded closer. 

Dread took over his body, it washed like a terrible wave and made his legs feel like jelly. Should he make a break for it? Would it chase him? 

The hot pungent breath of the Zuu washed over his hiding place, his cold cheek prickled and stung at the heat. Foliage covered his body, but through a break in the leaves, let Cloud see its beak opened slightly to show off razor sharp teeth. 

Fuck. 

Gods of the mountain, holy are thee, hear my prayers and drive that which would harm and bring calamity away. I give to your ancient soil powerful and strong, old as the wind, young as the trees, protect me from harm.

Cloud shook uncontrollably. He fought the sounds of the deer being torn apart. His mind created visions of his own body being crushed to viscera in the snow invaded his mind’s eye. He’d lay there forgotten. No one would miss him. His job would simply replace him. 

He’d die all alone.

Cloud felt the blood on his face before his brain understood the Zuu’s head had been cleaved in half. The two parts fell to the ground in a wet slop before it began to return to the mountain. Its soul broke into small balls of light that would return to Baldr’s hands to be reformed into something else, as all monsters did. 

Sephiroth, Terrible and Great, stood in front of Cloud. Sharp green eyes inspected him for what exactly was a mystery. 

“You didn’t try to kill it?” Sephiroth squinted incredulous. Kill it? KILL IT? Cloud was just one guy! Soldiers killed monsters, not reactor workers. It was a ridiculous idea. 

“No!” Cloud tried to keep the whimper out of his voice. 

“It was a monster,” Sephiroth was getting very good a stating the obvious, “You are a fool for sitting around for it to kill you,” Why was this so hard to grasp? 

“I was scared! You said that you knew I wasn’t that hero guy!” Cloud felt it was a weak defense, but he was scared. He was so scared, he wanted to be sick. It wasn’t just something that could be ignored, not when someone wasn’t used to it. Cloud didn’t fight monsters or even people! When given fight or flight or freeze, Cloud’s brain chose freeze. It shackled him in place and whited out his thoughts till all he could hear was his own heartbeat. This desperate attempt to make predators uninterested in him, but it didn’t help when the thing chasing him was a monster.
“You deal with me, and you are still Cloud Strife, hero or not,” Sephiroth said, and swung the sword fast enough to fling the blood off it in a perfect arc. Sun gleamed off it.

“You’re not a monster!” Cloud voice more frenzied as the absurdity of the entire situation got worse. Sure, Sephiroth was scary, but he could be reasoned with. He felt and thought. He was human, which, admittedly, might make him even more dangerous. Sephiroth took a step back like something powerful had hit his chest. His expression became pained and sad like a bad memory had crept up on him. Was that not an obvious idea? They’d both seen the Zuu. 

“You’re not a monster,” Cloud said it again to drive it home. To make sure it stuck.

Sephiroth flared out the massive black wing full of rainbows.

“Is this not monstrous?” Sephiroth snarled with teeth and venom. Undeterred, classic stubbornness reared up, Cloud pressed forward. 

“It’s beautiful,” Cloud’s word struck clear and honest as a church bell. It was, with its hidden rainbows and glossy neat feathers. They reminded Cloud of Huginn and Muninn. Odin’s two ravens that watched over the world. The snow crunched below Sephiroth’s boot as he stepped back. The sadness and disbelief returned as if the thought of beauty and the wing in the same thought was unfathomable, and Cloud’s heart ached. He really believed he was a monster, didn’t he? Cloud thought Sephiroth was scary, but monstrous? No. Not really. 

“What about this is not monstrous,” Sephiroth challenged, but his voice lacked heat. In its place was chilly skepticism.

“It’s different, monsters don’t feel, you do,” Monsters were the planet’s way of keeping humans in check, they were its anger at humanity made manifest. They were unfeeling. Sephiroth felt anger and confusion and he was sad . So Sad all the time even when it was overshadowed.

Then, something interesting happened. 

It hadn’t occurred to Cloud that it wasn’t happening until it started. 

Puffs of breath vapor swirled in the air as Sephiroth exhaled. Before, Sephiroth was definitely breathing, he saw his chest rise and fall, but the normal puffs were missing. 

Then suddenly it was there. Small swirling clouds as the warm vapor from his breath became frozen. His eyes widened and brows furrowed. Snow began to blow gently, and told of a storm in the coming hours. Long silver hair swayed in the swirling wind, reminiscent of the painting of ancient ladies in the same wind. 

Sephiroth ran away into the sky.

It was a few weeks after the hunting incident when Cloud saw Sephiroth again despite his claims of staying. (Maybe he meant staying in the area?) It was the middle of the night. Cloud had woken to loud pounding on the side of his house. There was a split second of sharp horror that Sephiroth was going to tear down his house in some form of revenge or attack. Cloud threw open the door, and Sephiroth stood on the porch holding a dead duck by its neck. The thing’s head was absent from its body and nowhere to be seen. The precision of the beheading told of a very sharp knife and a precise cleave. There was a ridiculous image of that massive sword going after a duck . Talk about overkill. Then again, Sephiroth did operate at 0 or 100 with very little time in any of the numbers in between those. The bird was bleeding all over his porch. 

“Um,” Cloud said as it was thrusted into his chest. 

Then Sephiroth was gone. 

Thanks?

Again and again, in the middle of the night Sephiroth would wake him up and drop off some kind of dead animal presumably to cook and eat. It was like some morbid rent system even though Cloud couldn’t kick Sephiroth out or even control him in any way.  Cloud knew better than to complain about free food, though. The meat meant more time to spend doing things that wasn’t hunting, and in this new abundance of time Cloud had taken up foraging again. The years of going into the underbrush of the mountain’s forest with his mother to search for crisp herbs and wild peppers were long buried by time, but Cloud still knew how.

 It had always been them together, eager young eyes saw what his mother's ailing ones couldn't, and she knew if whatever root or leaf was good to eat. Going out on his own felt wrong, but the book in his hands held a bit of comfort. The old battered plant guide was well-loved, with yellowed dog-eared pages and notes along the margin written in his mother's familiar handwriting. The notes held memories of better times and when problems were so much smaller.  He loved his mother’s print, she’d been trained in classic calligraphy by her mother, and it leaked into her print letters. The purposeful delicateness to them made the notes look like something that was meant to be in a grand library with centuries of history studied by scholars of old and new, or anywhere but a little cabin in backwater Nibelhime. Cloud wished his print was like that instead of the chicken scratch it was. Unfortunately, Cloud could barely read period.

When school wasn’t mandatory, and your mother was dead, nothing else mattered. 

Cloud turned his focus back to the basket of herbs he’d found and went about prepping dinner for tomorrow. The herbs were ground and mashed with a mortar and pestle with oil to create a thick paste that he’d let sit with the meat for the night and cook in the morning. The rest was hung up in the store house to dry. 

Cloud saw his ice chest was getting low. In the winter like this, keeping meat was much easier than it was in the warm months so he had larger stores. Even with nature doing most of the natural refrigerating he’d need to go hunting unless Sephiroth dropped something off. He didn’t like the idea that he was getting used to this routine, but time was a strange force, and given enough of it, people could get used to anything. Right around midnight, as was Sephiroth’s habit, he stood with a pheasant in one hand. This one cleanly stabbed through the heart. Sadly, the presence of animal blood on his porch was becoming a common stain. 

“Thanks,” Cloud said and grabbed the bird. Then paused. 

“Would you like to come inside?” 

Sephiroth pause from his walk back into the safe darkness of the tree line. He did not look back in curiosity but instead froze like a needle being pulled from the grooves of a record. Cloud continued his invitation. He really was losing his mind if he was doing this, but he didn’t like the weight of debts. The rules of hospitality wouldn’t stand for a guest providing ingredients and going hungry.

“Would you like to come inside for dinner?” Cloud calls out one last time, and this time Sephiroth dose look back with a skeptical squint. 

Dressing and prepping the pheasant was a messy affair without bleeding it first. Innards were separated for fish bait or to be eaten later. Feathers could be traded. Bones were separated from the flesh and saved to be give for fortune-telling or made into needles or a number of different things. Everything was put to use in some way. The dark meat was cleaned with safe boiled water then inspected for anything nasty. One deemed clean, into a pot of soup stock it went that already had vegetables and roots. 

Let simmer.

As the soup ingredients got to know each other, Cloud risked a glance at Sephiroth. He was looking around the cabin with just a hit of a spark of curiosity. Between destroying and then putting back together Cloud’s house, there couldn’t be much that was new to see. Still Sephiroth looked over the space with a critical but not judgmental eye. He paused over the books and took in the titles with the same regard for each one, not lingering or pulling any of them off the shelf. They were mostly functional non-fiction texted bought out of teenage desperation to survive on a mountain alone at 17. Cloud checked on the soup again. It needed more time. Sephiroth was now looking at various decorations around the kitchen. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Cloud asked only managing to do so through the sheer power of a quiet awkward room. Sephiroth blinked at him like the question was unimaginable instead of utterly mundane.

“Are you scared of me?” Sephiroth said to what is supposed to be a yes or no question. The answer to that was-

“Yes, but If I avoided something because I was scared, I’d starve in this cabin,” Cloud answered honestly. He was scared of a lot of things, most things, actually. Scared of freezing on the mountain, scared of getting mako poisoning, scared of the village below, but that’s why he had anxiety meds and a healthy stubborn streak. Sephiroth was scary in the way a dragon was scary. If it was going to hurt him there was very little he could do about it. Then again, Cloud made it a rule to never go near a dragon, not invite it in for dinner. 

But Sephiroth wasn’t a monster.

Sephiroth tilted his head a bit as if moving the information around in his head would make it make more sense. 

“If you are afraid, why invite me in with no direct need to have me around?” Sephiroth questioned. That was fair. 

“Because I have manners. You killed dinner, you should get to eat it,” Cloud said stirring the pot. 

“I could hurt you,” Sephiroth said, testing the water and maybe Cloud as well. Testing for what though.

“You could hurt me any time, there is nothing I could do to stop you from hurting me, but maybe you’ll at least feel bad about it if I’m nice to you,” Cloud replied.

He focused on the swirl of the stock and the ratio of meat to vegetables. The smell of the soup was rich with flavor and aromatic spices. The weathering of the pot and the heat of the stove.  It was ready. He focused on that. Cloud moved around him to the sparse cabinets and gathered two bowls and two spoons. The stew was made from pheasant, wild carrots and potatoes. It was the kind that warmed from the inside out with a sleepy feeling afterword. Sephiroth watched him move around the room with a passive curiosity, not in the way, but still present enough to be felt.
Cloud moved the big clay pot off the wood stove burner 

“It smells different,” He says, and like a heathen without manners, scoops some up with his hand as one would river water and sips it. 

“Tastes different,” He tilts his head, still looking at the stew, a little bit of confusion in his voice. 

“Use a SPOON, gods –that is pippin’ hot– did you even wash your hands?” Cloud heard his mother in his words, but didn’t care because who the fuck just ate stew with their hands! Sephiroth looked at him with cool, unbothered indifference at the affront to manners and the human tolerance to heat. Cloud poured each of them a bowl as if he wanted to make a point about proper soup consumption. Sephiroth either didn’t notice or didn’t care when he grabbed both of them and placed them in front of seats at the table. 

Helpful, if aggravating. 

“This is well-made,” Sephiroth ate the soup with a spoon this time. The complement was quiet- - humanizing. Cloud preened that his cooking was acceptable to someone else. How long had it been since someone else had come for dinner? (long enough he had to wash dust out of another spoon and bowl.)  

“A friend of mine– he used to cook,” Sephiroth phrases it more like a question, unsure of his own memories, than a statement. There was a small flinch, but it was gone in the space of a breath.

“Yeah?” Cloud thanked the mountain and started on his own dinner. Small talk, he could do small talk, this was a script he had. Sephiroth stared into his soup, mouth downturned in a frown. Cloud held his breath. 

It might be Angeal Hewley, Commander of Soldier. His fans said he was a good cook. He’d been on the news for his service in Wutai recently. The part where the winged man in his home was technically in Midgar commanding SOLDIER or where this Sephiroth was convinced that Cloud was some kind of hero destined to kill him hadn’t exactly escaped Cloud. More like put on the back burner. What was there to do about it? It wasn’t like he was connected to Shinra in any way other than his reactor job, and they never came out here for that. 

“I’m sure they were a good cook then,” Cloud savored the taste of pheasant. 

“A basic one,” Sephiroth ate surprisingly delicately, there's that curious look in his eyes that was slightly worrying.

“I like eating with you,” Sephiroth put more soup in his mouth while Cloud almost choked on his. What?
Him?
What was so special about eating together? The conversation wasn’t exactly riveting, and the food wasn’t anything special. It was just soup.
It was nice though. The house didn’t feel so full of ghosts. 

After dinner, Cloud had a new mission. He would Not lose against the mattress. He owned the damn thing, it should listen to him, but it wasn’t which was completely unfair. The unruly thing was refusing to leave the cellar and go up the slanted latter/steps. The cellar once would have been used to store and age wine, but now it was mostly just storage space. Getting it down had been simple of sliding it down the latter, he never thought he’d need it again. Cloud shoved his shoulder into the stubborn mattress. This shouldn’t be so difficult. The tightness in his lungs had to be the beginnings of an asthma attack. Not now, there were things to do, and this wasn’t even worth a stupid attack. The mattress was suddenly pulled up the latter and Sephiroth stared down. Stupidly and effortlessly held the stubborn thing in his grasp. 

“What are you doing?” Sephiroth said squinting.  

“For- for you,” Cloud wheezed out, trying to remember where his inhaler was. Maybe the kitchen counter?
“Why?”
“Because the dirt outside can’t be comfortable,” - or wherever he was sleeping. As the grip on his lungs eased, Cloud made his way up the ladder. 

“Why does that matter,” Sephiroth looked genuinely confused. 

“Because, I don’t know, you’re bringing me food? I get extra money for the pelts, so I can get nicer stuff, so you at least deserve a bed? Because I’m not an ass?” Cloud shrugged.  The first floor had no rooms besides a bathroom and a closet, and the upstairs, where all the actual rooms were, was off limits. It was a free game for wherever Sephiroth wanted his mattress. Cloud technically slept in the living room/main space next to the wood stove, the best spot in the house in Cloud’s opinion. There were a lot of places that could have been a good sleeping spot, but–.

Uh, that was close to Cloud’s spot.

That was directly next to Cloud’s spot. 

Maybe he wanted to be close to the warmth? Like cold had ever been a problem before. 

Sephiroth gathered his bedding given to him that first night and settled in. Cloud faced the dilemma of dragging his bed away from the warmest place on the first floor, or just sleeping next to Sephiroth. 

…

What was he doing?
This was his fucking house!
Cloud curled up on the mattress; blankets warmed from the stove. The mountain chill stayed firmly beyond the bounds of his little cabin.

A man stood next to me, a scalpel in his hand. 

I couldn’t move. 

What?
What was going on?
The man- who was that? What was his name?
Hojo.
That’s right.

Hojo.

His laugh was rotten in my ears. 

I struggled weakly in my bonds. 

“There’s still fight in you, good,” Hojo said. Where was- 

Zack

Z a c k

Where was Zack?
ZACK
“He won’t be able to help you,” Hojo said as he inspected a syringe, “Second dose of S-Cells,” 

No

Stop

Hojo stop

The needle burned in his arm, I could feel it under my skin, inside my arm. It burned. Out, out, out, 

Get It Out

I didn’t want whatever is in there. 

NO no no please. No. 

My body moved, spasming, jerking, the steel binding on my arms dig into my flesh as my arms strain against them. 

Foam and spit froth in my mouth. Pain grew from my arm, it spread all throughout my body. My veins ached, and my joints were quickly growing more and more sore. They cracked and popped as my back arched off the table. 

Was I screaming?
Where was Zack? 

Why wasn’t Zack here
Clouds eyes snapped open; tears poured from his eyes. That nightmare. Gods. Cloud felt beyond queasy.  Nightmares had never plagued him, but tonight was different. Two strong hands gripped his shoulders, hauling him upright, and green cat eyes stared into his. Their mako glow danced on Sephiroth cheekbones. 

 Cloud hadn’t even noticed how fast he’d been breathing. Coughs erupted from his chest which made his throat feel worse which made him cough more. He coughs again, and a large, firm hand rubs his back. The coughing kept coming. He kept fucking coughing.

Fucking asthma 

“Breath,” Sephiroth commanded. It was firm with no room for argument. Cloud tried to suck in air. Yeah, Breath. Sure, it was that simple. Just Breath. 

Breathe in.

Hold.

Breathe out. 

A glass of water was shoved into his hands. Cloud gulped it up greedily. He couldn’t cough if he was drinking- In theory. 

“It was just a dream,” Sephiroth’s voice was low and reverberated in his ears. It felt so real. The needle- the man- 

Who was Zack?

Cloud curled into himself. It was just a dream. It had to be just a dream. It slipped through his fingers the more he tried to hold onto it. Sand on a beach, water in the ocean.

A large hand rubbed soothing circles over his back. The actual contact was faint, barely detectable.

As quickly as it appeared, it was gone.
Please come back. No one touched him anymore.

Cloud's inhaler was pressed into his palm, a puff of the medicine helped air flow back into his lungs. 

Sephiroth with a single hand on Cloud’s chest pushed him down back into the mattress. The ceiling above him, familiar and comforting. 

“Sleep,” Sephiroth said, already laid back down on his bed. 

His lungs ached. His throat hurt, but sleep didn’t care. The rest of the night was empty.

Cloud woke to an empty house, the dream clung to himself like a film of muck. Sephiroth was nowhere to be seen, as if he had never been there in the first place. Cloud pulled on his shoes and tried to forget he needed new ones. New ones were so much money that he didn’t have right now. The cold morning air hit him like a bitch as he opened the door. It was prickly and sharp and his face scrunched in response. Sephiroth stood in his front “yard”, a word that carried too much meaning about private property for what was really just the open clearing in front of his cabin. He was dressed in his leather uniform that he was so often seen in during promotional material and his sword, masamune a younger him provided, in his hand. 

“Zack Fair, what does that name mean to you?” Sephiroth wasn’t poised for battle, but held his blade and posture in a way that said he didn’t need to prepare. He’d just kill you.

“Uh? Some soldier prodigy in the city?” Cloud had seen a photo of an attractive man that was an up and coming Soldier rapidly rising through the ranks. 

“And that is all?” Sephiroth shifted one foot back. 

“Y-yes?” Cloud felt far too trapped. Sephiroth scowled unconvinced and threw a blade from seemingly nowhere. That was a trick from their first meeting. Cloud had admittedly forgotten he could do that.

“Fight,” Was all the warning Cloud got before he was rushed. With blinding speed the punishing steel of a sword aimed right for his neck. He didn’t even have the chance to exhale before the sword was pressed against his jugular. The old sisters of fear and panic screamed in his head as he stood paralyzed. His world condensed down to the point where the sword’s blade met his neck, and willed himself to breathe shallowly. Sephiroth backed up against just enough to pick up the broadsword and shove it in his hands, the grip was rough and alien. 

“ Fight ,” Then swung masamune at Cloud again. Oh goddess, he was going to die because he trusted too easily. He thought they had some kind of rapport! At least enough to make it where Sephiroth wouldn’t try to maim him (anymore)! Was he so desperate for someone around that he was blind to the danger right in front of him?

The sword stopped again right before connecting.  Another frustrated look.

“You are Cloud Strife even if your memory has faltered. I will help you remember, and we can end this once and for all,” Sephiroth backed up and waited.

This again?! This whole Cloud is “someone actually important” that he'd thought they'd agree wasn't true. He was no hero, he would never be a hero.

“I’m not him!” Cloud pleaded and at least this time managed to fumble back. The snow crunched below him as he tried to right himself.

“Last night you murmured of Hojo and Zack and pain, those were his memories,” Sephiroth stuck again and Cloud only just managed to fall out of the way thanks to years of mountain life. This was so stupid! Cloud didn’t know how to swing a sword, that was military shit. The cold bit Cloud’s throat as his lung demanded more oxygen for his already pounding heart to circulate. He tried his best to dodge but often didn’t succeed. The blade would always stop millimeters from breaking skin, the hard metal just kissing skin. It was just some stupid nightmare! It didn’t mean anything! They played this game for what felt like hours, until the sword finally connected and sliced open his arm. Cloud cried out like a wounded animal as red blood flowed from his arm onto the trampled snow. It hurt, Goddess that hurt. It burned with a vengeance. Cloud crumbled in on himself to clutch at the wound. He whimpered noises of pain and panic as blood flowed through his hand and he tried to press together the split flesh.

“Get up,” Sephiroth commanded with cold disregard. 

“It hurts,” Cloud weakly whined. It did, it hurt like a bitch and made his entire arm feel like it was on fire. The throbbing and the snow made his fingers pulse. Cloud wouldn’t move if he wanted, overwhelmed by the pain. There was so much blood. Animal blood was a part of his life, but human blood? His blood? The smell was nauseating, it made him shake in the scrunched up form in the snow. Sephiroth just watched looming overhead as Cloud bled. Maybe it was the tone of voice or his pathetic stance or the many failed attempts to get him to fight, but Sephiroth finally stepped back and disappeared his sword. Without warning, he was hauled up by his good arm, Cloud cried out either in protest or in pain as they went inside, likely both. Cloud dimly thought he’d have to clean the trail of blood on his floor. 

“Healing materia or potions, where are they,” Sephiroth demanded. Cloud felt the room start swimming. He didn’t have either of those, wasn’t trained in magic and potions were expensive. 

“First aid then,” Sephiroth said. Oh, he did have that. That was in the bathroom, s-sink place. Sephiroth left the room and was back with his hefty first aid kit. A careful needle and thread made neat stitches over his arm. Cloud whimpered, feeling the needle pulled thread through his flesh. It took several more stitches until gauze was placed over the cut and tightly bandaged. Two pills were shoved in his mouth, fingers grossly invading. Water came next to wash down the pills. Painkillers? Probably. Cloud hoped so, his arm still really hurt. Was someone talking? Some were definitely talking, but the words just washed off his ears like water on duck feathers.

The next time Cloud came to Sephiroth was washing the floor of blood. Panic gripped him again, and he tried to silently shift away. Apparently not quietly enough because Sephiroth turned to look at him. 

It was so quiet that Cloud almost missed it.

“ I apologize, ” Sephiroth tilted his head forward and a shower of silver hair hid his face. 

Rage twisted in his heart. He sliced open his arm, and now he's apologizing. Did he think a sorry would fix things? 

“Don’t do it again, I’m. not. him.” Cloud sneered and punctuated every word to drive it into Sephiroth’s thick skull. Cloud breathed out and pulled his knees up to his chest. 

“ I’m not him ” Cloud said again to make a point. With a touch surprisingly tender, Sephiroth ran his hand over Cloud’s bandages. He flinched.

“No, you’re not,” Sephiroth murmured. Cloud heaved a sigh. Sephiroth started for the door. Was he going to leave? The thought of a quiet cold house again swirled fighting with the anger of the attack. Was he just going to run away or maybe this was giving Cloud space to be upset. Maybe he thought that Cloud didn't want to be around him? Among all those thoughts only one stayed consistent. He didn't want to be alone.

“Wait!” Cloud called out. Sephiroth stopped in his tracks. His head turned slightly to peer back at him. 

“You’re forgiven,” Cloud said begrudgingly. The fear was still there, but the anger had fizzled out in his exhaustion. 

“Why?” Sephiroth asked, and his eyes looked so confused. 

“Because you’re still learning how to be human I guess? I don’t know, things like basic kindness surprise you. You get this *look* where you don’t seem to understand human idea. I want to help with that. I want to help, and I should make you learn how to earn forgiveness, but I don’t want to be alone, and that's *work* I don’t want to do right now. So I forgive you,” Cloud could hear how tired he was. If the reason was from the emotions, what ever happened outside, or the blood loss was to the wind. 

“I don’t want to be alone either,” Sephiroth admits in that same tone of voice he always gets as though his basic human emotion was a miraculous discovery. Grudges took energy he didn’t have right now, so Cloud just rolled over and went to sleep.

Chapter Text

There was something on top of him, it was warm with a pleasant weight to it. A sneeze welled up in his chest as something tickled his nose. It was a quick, startling noise as Cloud sneezed, but the pleasantly heavy weight didn’t pull away. The sleep ran from his eyes as they focused, blearily blinking. A blanket of black feathers covered his body like a blanket. Cloud seized up, still as the dead. 

Sephiroth’s wing. Was on him.

It had the audacity to be comfortable. 

The feathers still held rainbows in them, but up close against his skin they felt softer than average bird feathers. Small specks of dirt were nestled in between the feathers probably irritating the skin. Cloud had seen enough Chocobos to know it needed a bath. Cloud also probably needed a bath. He probably needed to get up, but disturbing Sephiroth while he was asleep was slightly palpitation inducing. 

“I know you are awake,” Sephiroth rumbled. It was hard to stop from squeaking. 

“Uh- your wing?” Cloud half mumbles, half spoke. It slowly retracted. 

“Were you,” Sephiroth pauses as if to collect his thoughts, “warm?”
Warm? Yeah, Cloud had been warmer than he’d been any night that wasn’t in the middle of summer.

“Mhmm,” Cloud nodded, and Sephiroth seemed satisfied as he sat up on his mattress. 

“I’m going to change the bandage,” Sephiroth said before a gurgling sound came from his stomach and he placed a surprised hand on it, looking surprised his body could make that noise. 

“Breakfast, then I’m going to take a bath, then we change them,” Cloud announced and folded up his blanket.  He saw Sephiroth watch him and mimic the action. Breakfast was salt cured egg yolks in noodles and some greens from last night. Sephiroth had eaten them in silence, a chill settled over the table that was frigid compared to last night's warmth. Food came and was cleaned up without much fanfare. It was shaping up to be a quiet morning. It shouldn’t bother Cloud, he was used to it. 

He was used to it. 

“You mentioned a bath?” Deep timber cut the quiet. There was an excited tilt to it, which was new. Emotions so far had been a short list: nothing, anger, and gratitude. 

“Mhmm,” Cloud moved to the bathroom, where a large bucket was tucked into the corner. There was no actual running water to the tub, so, massive bucket and snow. 

Sephiroth had faded back into emotionlessness as he watched Cloud fill it full of top layer snow. 

“It should be clean if it's freshly fallen,” Cloud lugged the stupidly heavy thing (which was worse with his hurt arm) next to the fire and threw in an extra log for good measure. While the snow melted into their bathwater, Cloud dug out the good soaps. Soaps with olive oil and rose petals in them, and not just the harsh lye. Soaps that came all the way from big city Midgar. 

He deserved a treat.

Towels were retrieved from their home, his day clothes sat in a hall closet with towels sitting on a shelf below, fluffy and gray. Lastly, Cloud got some clean clothes. It took an extra 20 minutes for the snow to melt in the massive bucket and then to heat up. Cloud sat and knit and Sephiroth watched, like he did with everything. Cloud dipped his hand into the water, and it warmed his hand pleasantly; chased off the near constant slight chill. It was a careful waddle with the sloshing bucket into the bathroom where he dumped the entire thing into the tub proper finally. It steamed pleasantly, and was almost physically painful to step back. Warmth leached from his skin the further away he got. He did this several times letting the final bucket get hot enough to heat up the cool water already in the tub. He handed Sephiroth the towels and the soap.

“Leave the other in there for me, otherwise it's all yours,” Cloud is almost to the door when-

“The water will be cold for your bath,” Sephiroth had the “I’m puzzling out something human” tone in his voice.
“It’s fine,” It wasn’t, cold baths sucked and were dangerous even during the height of winter.

“Bathe with me, share the warm water,” Sephiroth took off his leather coat with purpose and grace, folding it neatly.

A-

M-

N o.

No way.

Cloud had never been naked in front of another person, other than his mother, and that wasn’t an exaggeration.

Bathe Together?

Sephiroth had taken off more belts and parts of his famous uniform, leaving his bare chested and Cloud flushed.

Cloud looked longingly at the steaming bath. 

Warm Water.

But naked Sephiroth.
But warm water.

Oh, every god on the mountain that was a lot of naked Sephiroth. 

He had finally shed the last of the uniform and climbed into the water so gracefully the water barely rippled. A startling, emotional, and human sigh left his lips. He sank, boneless, up to where the water met his nose, silver hair pooling around.

Warm water..

“I’ll wash your hair,” Sephiroth said while tilting his head back to soak his scalp.

Warm water and getting his hair washed.

But naked Sephiroth.

“You won’t try anything?” Cloud felt like a blushing teenager.

“If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t do it like that,” Sephiroth reminded Cloud of his terrifying strength again . 

Cloud shakily shrugged off his shirt and pants, then climbed into the warm water. An audible groan bullied its way past his verbal filter and out of his throat. Baths were the only time when he wasn’t at least a little cold, other than under his blanket. 

“What are the scars on your chest?” Sephiroth’s eyes don’t wander below the water, and instead stay laser focused on Cloud. 

“You mean the top surgery?,” Cloud didn’t think of his scars much, no one saw them anyway. Sephiroth squinted his eyes, not in anger, but more confused.

“I was born in a girl body, but I’m actually a guy,” Cloud explained, there was growing urge to cover himself. 

“Gender is a useless construct,” Sephiroth moved to wash his miles of silver hair. 

“It has its uses, It's when people start insisting on stuff that’s the problem,” Cloud felt his brain melt to mush. The water turned sudsy with the soap bubbles. Harsh winters had seeped into his bones and Cloud was proud to be a mountain boy, but his soul always followed the lure of warmth and a good bath.

“Come here,” Sephiroth said and held the soap in one hand. 

Right, he had promised to wash his hair. 

Sephiroth… Washing his hair. 

Hm.

Hmm .

Cloud hesitantly turned his back to Sephiroth, probably not the best idea. Warm, strong hands worked soap into his dirty hair. They messaged his scalp and every bit of tension left Cloud’s body. At the same time, it made his entire body want to tense up. 

“Your hair is soft,” Cloud felt Sephiroth run his hands through his hair and stopping to rub some strands between his fingers. The oil of his hair was washed away by the good soap.

“Oh- uh- thank you,” Cloud’s cheeks weren’t red just because of the water. A hand reaches around Cloud’s body and grasps his hand

“Your hands are soft too, but the calluses are in the wrong places,” Sephiroth murmured far too close to his neck. Where were the right places?

“Uh- Thanks? Ma was big on skin care,” Cloud had foundational memories of his mother placing money, a few coins at a time, into a jar.  When the jar was full, they’d travel into town to buy the oils and fragrances they used to make the various jars and containers of moisturizers and lotions his mother would delicately rub over her hands. She would take a tiny dollop and rub her hands over his. A smile would break out over her face like flowers in spring as she cupped her hands over her nose, smelling her hard work.
“You are soft,” Sephiroth looked far away. Looked like he was remembering something that Cloud wasn’t privy to. 

“Thanks again, I guess?” Awkwardness curled around Cloud’s stomach. Was that supposed to be an insult? Was soft good?

Sephiroth rose in one swift motion. 

Oh, Gods!

Underwater was safe. Underwater kept his eyes from seeing anything scaring. A hand grasped his shoulder and pulled him up. Sephiroth looked at Cloud like he was the one that was being inane. It was that same confused dog look. 

This was so stupid, didn’t he have any sense of modesty, or at least consideration for Cloud’s sanity? This was so dumb, this entire situation was so so dumb. Cloud kept his gaze very pointedly on the wall behind Sephiroth so he wouldn’t have to look at him mostly naked and dripping wet. 

“Your cheeks are red,” Sephiroth questioned. Why was this bath so confusing for him? Cloud’s cheeks were flushed for multiple reasons, but he didn’t want to think about that. Who thought this man manners? Cloud would like a word. 

“Just, let me get you some clothes,” Cloud turns around and grabs a towel to save his modesty as quickly as he could. The quicker everyone was clothed, the better. Goose bumps pickled all over his skin from the cool air. This was always the worst part of the bath. Cloud dressed still slightly damp which was the worst , but Sephiroth as still standing there looking at him. In a towel. The towel part is important. Why was that towel so small?

Cloud half walked half shuffled to the small closet and pulled out an admittedly poorly taken care of cloak. It was old dragon leather, cracked and dry, but still hole. In addition to the cloak, Cloud pulled out a pair of old pants and a T-shirt that said “Nibelheim Hunting Guild”. Lastly, an ivory hairbrush. The clothes themselves were quite big, and tucked away long enough to fade. The hairbrush was slightly chipped, but mostly whole. It had been a long time since he’d seen these clothes. Perhaps too long. 

Whatever.

Doesn’t matter. 

Sephiroth had moved to sit in front of the wood stove in unfortunately unwashed boxers, his towel now wrapped around his long silver hair. The feathers of his black wing puffed up like he’d seen birds do in the cold. 

He looked-

Content. Maybe peaceful. A good bath will do that to you. 

“Uh, here, It’s not much, and they might not fit well, but it’s better than leather pants,” Cloud shrugged. Sephiroth laughed . Like actually a verbal show of amusement. It was short and kind of suave without trying. It hadn’t meant to be a joke, but laughter is good, right? Positive emotions meant he won’t snap like earlier? 

“And a hairbrush if you want it,” Cloud handed the brush to Sephiroth. He turned it over in his hands inspecting it with a careful eye after getting dressed. His face turned stormy and conflicted as something went through his head. Was the hairbrush overstepping in some way? It was just a brush. Once it had belonged to him when he used a brush over a comb, but that was a while ago. It wasn’t anything special. An insane thought crossed his mind. Surely this won’t end in disaster. 

“Would you like me to brush your hair?” Cloud scrunched small, bracing for something harsh at daring to touch the beautiful locks. Cloud’s hair was close to the color of fresh straw and was just long enough to sit in a small ponytail at the base of his skull. It was not unhealthy or ugly, but it was nothing compared to the long flowing strands of silver.  There was no need to fear as this apparently was the right dialogue choice. Sephiroth perked up and handed the brush over with a quick “Yes,” 

Starting at the bottom and working his way up, Cloud worked out tangles and knots. Sephiroth stood stone still as his hair was worked on, there wasn’t a single twitch or flinch. The strands up close were just as soft as he had thought back when he had stupid dreams of SOLDIER. The rise and fall of Sephiroth’s shoulders had slowed. Cloud felt the most subtle lean back into Cloud’s hands. It was so slight that if he hadn’t been laser focused on avoiding tugging too hard, he would have missed it. Sephiroth exhaled almost imperceptibly when Cloud put the brush down. It wasn’t exactly dry, but Cloud pulled it into a braid anyway, it would help with not getting water everywhere. The hair was surprisingly easy to braid, despite being so long. The hair sectioned nicely and stayed neat as the three sections were woven together. Not the worst braid ever. Cloud preened at his handy work. Sephiroth reached behind his head and ran his hand along the length of the braid.

“You can take it out if you’d like,” Cloud suddenly felt small and like he’d overstepped. Sometimes his body worked before his brain caught up. 

“No,” Sephiroth didn’t smile, but he looked lighter in a way. The shadows didn’t cling so tightly. It looked good. 

“Will you do it again?” Sephiroth sounded vaguely hopeful. 

“Of course,” Cloud replied.

He did stay this time, properly, and time marched on without any care of the odd living situation Cloud found himself in. To be truthful the days passed uneventfully. There wasn’t much to Cloud’s life. Work and home were the only places he went.  They ate together in the evenings most days, and Cloud generally had no idea what Sephiroth did with his time when Cloud wasn’t home. He could ask. It wouldn’t be hard, and he might just get an answer too, but knowing things about Sephiroth felt dangerous. The safety of ignorance was a false, but it was easier than the burden of knowing. So, Cloud went to work and Sephiroth did whatever he did during the day. Sometimes it was obvious-

Cloud came to a spotless kitchen and living room. The stone counters were scrubbed down to the grout where it met the wall, the books had all been removed and the shelf dusted, even excess ash from the stove had been cleaned out. Cloud stood dumbfounded in his doorway of his own home at the cleanliness of it. Sephiroth looked only a little bit like a dork in an apron. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” Cloud said, feeling like it was the appropriately polite thing to say. Scripts were nice like that.

“I did,” Sephiroth responded. What did that mean? Was he calling Cloud a slob? Did he think he needed to earn his keep? He didn’t need to do the hunting and clean. Cloud didn’t like the idea of being any kind of landlord. 

“I smell more than you. It is not an insult,” Sephiroth continued. Oh, SOLDIER. Right. 

“The house was also dirty,” Sephiroth also said killing the good will.

Fuck you too then.

Sometimes times it wasn’t

It wasn’t that he was expecting Sephiroth to greet him upon getting home, but he did wonder where he was. Other than the made beds there was no trace of him anywhere. He’d also gotten up earlier than Cloud that morning as well. Right before bed, Sephiroth wandered in with several yellow feathers in his hair. Not purposefully put there, but more “tried to get on a chocobo and lost” way. There were no Chocobos near the cabin. Cloud raised an eyebrow and earned a smack to his side from the wing. 

But sometimes-

Cloud sat on the couch reading during his day off as Sephiroth sat eyes closed and still as the sky breathing in and out at a measured steady pace. The book was an old story he’d read before, but it still caught his attention. The pages had notes in handwriting that showed how Cloud had matured over the years of re-reading it. The tea steeped on the floor close to his couch so that all he had to do was reach down for a drink. 

“Uh-” Cloud didn’t know how to interrupt whatever Sephiroth was doing or even if he should. One green eye peered at him, not annoyed thankfully.

“Do you want a cup of tea?” Cloud offered cautiously, was he disrupting something important? Did Sephiroth even like tea?
“What kind?” Sephiroth unfolded himself off the floor.

“Wutian?” technically all tea was wutian because that's where shinra got tea from, but he makes it the wutian style from a book his mom had from way before she’d even met his dad.

“Two milk, if available,” He requested and Cloud closed his book after marking the page. 

Sometimes they were together.

Their adjacent routines carried on till one day the harsh bell of the old classic alarm clock screamed and Cloud just barely stopped the instinct to hurl the thing at the wall. He missed the one that had been sacrificed to Sephiroth. 

“I despise your alarm clock,” Sephiroth thankfully didn’t break this one, instead turning it off with a glare.

“You and me both,” Cloud groaned and shook the sleep out of his head. 

The wing had covered him in the night, and that wasn’t anything to complain about. The thing was damn warm. 

The slog of Cloud’s morning routine was oddly made a little better by the presence of Sephiroth watching him. He wasn’t helping, but just being there chased off the ghosts. Knowing how lonely you were was hard when you’ve never had people around.
“Is that all you’re taking?” Sephiroth looked into his small lunch bag. It was his normal lunch of dried meat and bread, plus the one store bought pudding cup. That was the last one. Gross, that meant a trip into town.
“I don’t like eating on the job,” Cloud shrugged. Sephiroth scowled. Rude. 

Whatever, he got to judge when he worked a six to eight shift at a rector constantly smelling mako. Mako sensitivity sucked when you worked in the reactor, and just the presence of it made him queasy.
“Ok, I’m off,” Cloud was dressed and packed. His mask had new filters, which meant not dealing with the smell of a dirty filter all day. 

It was about the little wins. Tiny wins. 

A large hand grasped his own. Cloud jerked back. 

Sephiroth looked… shy?

“Goodbye,” Sephiroth whispered, not quite looking him in the eye. 

Cloud’s heart clenched tight. How long had he left the house cold and empty. How many times had he gotten ready in dead silence, no one to care about what he ate or wish him off. The tips of his ears were surely red. 

“Bye,” Cloud nodded with resolve.

After trudging across the mountain and clocking in, the normal drone of life returned. It was like the color had been sucked out of the world. The little bubble of peace could never last. People normally avoided him at work, and that hadn’t changed. Sephiroth wasn’t talkative, most of the time he didn’t speak until spoken to, but his quiet, even kinda warm presence had chased off the loneliness at least a little. Now the silent drudge felt heavier than normal. Every time he looked at the clock, only 5 or 10 minutes had passed, Cloud was counting the minutes till lunch. His sweat rolled down his back he entered in dial and temperature readings into his tablets. If this was a newer reactor, these readings would be connected to a computer, but the Nibelheim one was old as fuck. Everyone was grumbling about the temperature. The rector was getting warmer as the thaw of spring came in, they’d roll out the thinner summer uniforms soon. They were still in the cold weather ones and could take off any part of the proper uniform to alleviate some of the heat. Cloud collected readings and only got into one silent argument with a coworker who would not fucking move. He needed to be there to read the dial correctly! He had the damn right of way right here. 

Cloud’s day quickly went from boring to bad with one glare of his supervisor. This fucking manager had it out for Cloud for some reason. 

“Strife,” Supervisor Dickhead was painfully polite in the way that reeked of a superiority complex.

“Yes Sir,” Cloud didn’t look him in the eye. 

“Do you know why I’ve called you here, today?” Dickhead sat behind his desk smiling. 

“No sir,” 

“We have a specific way of doing things here, and it’s important you do things in the way procedure says so,”
It wasn’t. He’s been doing the same routine his entire time working here, and Dickhead was the only one that had any problem of the 3 supervisors that came and went from the reactor. It was just this asshole who was an ornery bitch.

“I understand with your unfortunate upbringing and solitary lifestyle, you might not understand the importance of working as a team, but here at shinra, we all work as the many parts of a larger machine,”

Blah blah blah same stupid speech. Living alone didn’t make you stupid, being raised by a single mother didn’t make him defective ass. Gods of the mountain, this fucking guy. 

“Please make sure you take reading from the reactor floors top to bottom, and first aid kits must remain locked unless you have already reported an injury. If you need to reference the company rules, the handbook is available at all times. You’ll be receiving a dock in pay and a mark on your report card,” Dickhead smiled and Cloud wanted to strangle him. It was just a cut from a rust edge. He needed a band-aid , it wasn’t worth the damn paperwork.

“Yes, Sir,” Cloud gritted out. 

“And mind your tone,” Dickhead added to sweeten the entire thing.  Fuck you. 

Cloud couldn’t quit. He needed this job. The only other choice was infantry. He was not built for public security. He cannot quit his job. 

The rest of the work day was the same slow trudge. The act of just doing the work seemed to drain him. 

He didn’t care about the dickhead's opinion of him, but hearing it? Hearing it from anyone never felt good.

Cloud hated how much it bothered him. It shouldn’t matter, but it did. It always did no matter how much he tried to block it out. 

He hated how much he cared.

At lunch, Liam looked at his lunch quizzically. Cloud looked back with the same questioning look. 

“More meat?” Liam signed. Cloud looked at the meat in his lunch. He had put more in since Sephiroth was hunting more and his stores were larger.

“Good, you should eat more,” Liam signed, “Are you picking up extra hours? You already work too hard,” 

Cloud shook his head and avoided the question. Hunting on the mountain was technically illegal. He already was pushing it living there in the first place, and there was no good way to explain the extra Sephiroth. 

Liam’s eyes darted to a manager that was looking at their table. The manager clenched the handle of his baton. 

They both shut up. 

They got paid at the end of the day, and Cloud’s paycheck sure enough was docked two hundred Gil. He grumbled and stared in contempt at the slip. He barely got paid enough as is.

Cloud did catch how Liam eyed his wounded arm. 

For once Cloud was glad for silent meal times.

The trudge home was exactly the same as always: dreary and boring. 

His cabin came into view, and he was hit with a wave of warm upon opening the door. The stove coated the room in a warm glow as the sun hung low in the sky. The warmth seeped into his marrow. Sephiroth had never kept the stove going during the day. In fact, the cold had never really bothered him all that much. Gratitude curled around his heart, it was nice coming home to a warm house. Cloud heaved a sigh as he let his coat fall to the floor. He’d get it later. 

That might be a lie.

“Welcome back,” Sephiroth stood in front of the stove stirring a pot. His long braid was getting messy but still intact. He looked so human compared to the Valkyrie that Cloud had meet weeks ago. Maybe this was the real Sephiroth.  If so, then who did Cloud meet? 

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Cloud dropped his bag by the door and felt the weariness got heavier. But in a way that invited sleep at the end of a long day and not a rapid break down about how much he hated his job.

“I can’t really, but soup is not a challenge,” Sephiroth tasted it and hummed thoughtfully to himself. “Needs something,” 

Cloud tasted it himself, the flavor was good, but it could use some sage that he was fresh out of. 

“I need to go into town anyway, might as well do it now,” Cloud changed into his fluffy winter coat and some better pants than his work one while grabbing some Gil for shopping. 

“Nibelheim proper,” Sephiroth’s voice tapered off into silence and his eyes again looked far away. Where did he go?

“Mhmm,” Cloud shoved his hands in his pockets. Sephiroth placed the pot off the burner, covered it with a lid, and took steps toward the door. 

“Oh, um- You’re coming with?”
“Should I not?”
“Its just- the wing might grab attention,”
“Hm” Sephiroth flexed it out and looked at the appendage like it offended him. 

Why exactly Sephiroth decided to stay hidden wasn’t knowledge Cloud was privy to. When they did interaction, Sephiroth didn’t speak all that much, and he was less inclined to talk about anyone that was about his past. Cloud knew why he was staying, and tried not to think about it. Not to think about the person that he was failing to live up to. 

Cloud grabbed the cloak offered up during their last bath, and wrapped it around Sephiroth. He was a six-foot giant, so Cloud had to reach up on his tip toes at the same time Sephiroth bent down, they were almost nose to nose. 

“Just keep the hood up, and I think you’ll be ok,” Cloud smiled and Sephiroth covered his long silver hair with the hood. It felt wrong to tuck it away from the world, like hiding art under a sheet. 

“Hm,” Cloud paused. Those eyes, there was no mistaking them, and with the war in Wutai slowing down, the Sephiroth in midgar was in the news a lot more. Just hoping people wouldn’t notice was too much of a gamble. If nothing else, Cloud didn’t want Shinra goons on the mountain if someone in the city believed that Sephiroth was in Nibelheim. Wasn’t there snow glasses somewhere? The kind that covered, like, half the face. Cloud stared at Sephiroth’s eyes for a strong moment. People’s eyes up close weren’t uniform smooth. Up close, there was visual texture and patterns within the irist. It showed up real nice on light colored eyes, but not Sephiroth. Just smooth, clear green. He’d never noticed that before.

What was he doing again?

Glasses! Right!

Cloud backed up and dug around in the cellar through the old snow gear. Cloud freed a pair of frankly kinda gaudy snowboarding goggles out of storage with a cheer.

“So people don’t recognize your eyes,” Cloud explained as Sephiroth looked at the things like they had personally offended him. 

“They are ugly,” Sephiroth said. 

“Sure are,” Cloud said with maybe a little too much glee.

Nibelheim proper was actually pretty boring. Nothing happened that was worth a damn 80% of the year. There was One bar that men normally went to paw at women and drink away their paycheck, and a few local stores that Cloud only occasionally shopped at. A produce stand, a general store, and a WirlMart which of course was owned by Shinra. The only thing Cloud actually liked was the Great Hall at the center, old as the town itself. He was always safe there. The Great Hall held warmth and laughter. 

Shopping. Focus.

Sephiroth in his amusingly stupid get up of large cloak and snow goggles waited outside. Shinra Shopping was really the only non-local store, and also the only one open at this hour. Cloud placed a jar of dried sage in his shopping bag, along with various other bits and bobs he needed around the house. Cleaning supplies, tampons, some more of his pudding, a thing of lighter fluid, milk, bread–

Cloud paused at the hygiene section of the smallish store. Toothbrushes hung neatly on the rack in various colors. 350 gil.

Did Sephiroth brush his teeth?
Was he using Cloud’s toothbrush to do it?

Cloud dropped one, plus more toothpaste for good measure, in to his basket. He looked at the book section next and picked up one.  There was a half naked man without any of his face showing, but all of his abs on the cover. Ah, this was one of those novels. 

Based on the best-selling play Loveless?
He did need something new to read. Cloud put it in the basket. 

He grabbed a value pack of gray boxers as well, he was not going to let his mind wander he was more mature than that, and guessed at the size that would fit Sephiroth. 

The woman on the counter only gave him an unpleasant look as she took his money. 

Whatever. 

Cloud exited the store and Sephiroth, stoic as a stone, waited for him. A few people milled about, the dark not quite set in enough to drive people into their homes for the night. Great .

“Let’s go,” Cloud got a silent nod in return.

He should have seen it coming. He knew this village too well to not to.

Should have known that life had been too kind to him lately. 

Should have heard the teenagers and their snickering. 

The bright red tomato splattered on his face and into the fur of his coat with a wet impact. The fruit coated the entire side of his face and into his hair. It was cold and smelled strongly. Bits of tomato fell onto the ground with a wet splat. 

Shame and humiliation boiled in his throat. Tears welled in his eyes.

He wouldn’t cry.

Wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Their jeers and laughter cut and sank him deeper into that pit of embarrassment. They should have made him angry. He should be angry for himself, but if he got angry every time someone in Nibelheim hated him, there would be nothing left for anything else. 

Time was better used other places and for other things. 

His anger never changed anything no matter how much he wanted it to.

Cloud removed his glove and wiped it off his face with his hand. Please don’t give them the satisfaction of tears. He was used to this. Teenagers had been throwing shit at him for ages, the great pastime of the youth of Nibelheim: Throw shit at the Strife. This wasn’t any different. This couldn’t be any different. 

Cloud didn’t look at Sephiroth.

His eyes wouldn’t let him. 

He cleaned off the tomato on his hand, smearing it on his pant leg, then put his glove back on. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t let anything past an icy shield around his expression. Control his emotions until they got home. Push them down, down, down. Break-downs were for private settings.

“Shinra mutt!” one of the teenagers, tweens really, yelled. Just old enough to know that Shinra’s reactor is poisoning the mountain, but not smart enough to know Cloud wasn’t to blame. 

Maybe he was, he did work at the reactor. Not like he had many other options.

“My dad got laid off! It's your fault!” Another jeered and a rock was raised to throw. Cloud winced away. Braced, he waited for the impact. Imagined the rock as it made contact with his head, the rivets of blood mixing with the jelly like flesh of the tomato. How many stitches would it be this time?

“Throw that at your own peril,” Sephiroth in all his 6’7 glory snarled all the wild demon that Wutai found him to be. He took a purposeful step forward, so that Cloud was safely tucked out of sight, or maybe just so that he could intimidate the kids without anyone in the way. A nasty scowl on his lips. Cloud had seen wolves the size of cars that were less threatening. The stupid goggles should have wasted any efforts at intimidation, but the fact you couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t see half his face, only added to the fact Sephiroth was an unknown to these people. In Nibelheim where you had to look at family trees to make sure you weren’t distantly related before dating. That made him scary. It made him a threat . 

The kids looked ready to piss themselves. 

Served them right. 

Sephiroth was primed for a fight, but Cloud took his hand instead. A little, bitter, angry polluted by hate part of him just wanted to let Sephiroth hurt them. Teach them that throwing shit at people had consequences. 

“Lets just go home,” Cloud whispered instead. Conflict was the last thing he needed. Conflict meant crowds and people, and talking to the sheriff and his reputation would get even worse. Not that it could get much worse. 

Sephiroth’s expression was hard to read when Cloud could see his eyes, but without them, it was almost impossible. Cloud turned and started away without him. 

If he wanted to start shit, let him. There was tomato to clean off his face.

Sephiroth caught up quickly with his stupidly long legs. 

The tomato on his cheek dried in the cold wind and made his skin crawl. Hated shit on his face. He didn’t like tomato, and now he smelled like it. Just fucking great Cloud thought. 

“Wha-”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Cloud cut him off. If he got mad, then fine. Stab him. Choke him out. Whatever. 

There was no one to miss him anyway.

But none of that happened, they just walked to the house in silence. They never should have gone into town. The entire day had been a big red glaring signal to stay clear of the village, but no, he just loved trying his luck. After eight years, one would think he’d learn. The mountain foliage got more wild and untamed as they traveled off the beaten path to the house. 

The house was cold as expected, the wood stove long gone out, but the good natural insulation of the clay meant the soup was still slightly warm. 

“I’m going to bed,” Cloud announced. He wasn’t hungry. As the shame cooled; apathy set in its place. Today was too much. It needed to stop and be over so that maybe tomorrow could try to be better.

“No,” Sephiroth said in a short, clipped tone. Why was he upset? Where did he get off ordering him around? Because you're not strong enough to stop him

Whatever. 

Cloud glared at him, but it wasn’t a powerful one. The day had chipped and sanded down his sharp edges. All of his everything had been twisted and wrung out of him.

Sephiroth held a wet dish towel in his hand and in a surprising show of gentleness cupped the back of Cloud’s head and turned his face to the side. Sephiroth’s large hand tangled itself in Cloud’s hair. He didn’t grip, but rather the hold was firm enough that he could guide Cloud into the positions he wanted.  Warmth settled in Cloud’s chest at such a tender touch. It made the awful emotions and events of the day bleed out of his muscles. The washcloth was cold against his cheek, but the hand kept him from flinching away. A part of Cloud - the stubborn part - bucked at being handled, too much independence and a long family history of stubbornness, but the other part couldn’t help but feel safe in such powerful hands. There was no callousness despite the years of experience with a sword and his fingers were lithe but firm. Everyone who was ever kind to him had strong hands. The tears welled up before Cloud could stop them. Today had been such utter shit and normally this was just something he had to deal with on his own, but now there was someone gentle taking care of him. He could just let go. How was someone so big and had nearly killed him a month and a half ago so kind? 

“The boy, what did he mean when he said “It’s your fault’” Sephiroth went right for the throat; jumped straight to the question Cloud didn’t want to answer. It dragged up too many memories he wanted to stay buried. He didn’t want to dig up his families shame, his shame. Cloud didn’t answer, instead focused on the rough texture of the washcloth and the way it glided across his skin. 

“Cloud,” Sephiroth murmured and Cloud startled. His name sounded strange coming out of Sephiroth. They never really said each other’s name. “Cloud” felt too small and plain for his grand voice. It didn’t fit right. That was the voice of a general and the demon of Wutai, what was it doing saying his name? The whole ordeal made him shift and fidget in his seat. He had never great with emotions and today had already fried his nerves so badly. Call him a coward, fine, but Cloud wouldn’t look Sephiroth in the eyes. Goddess, what must he think of him?

“Cloud.” Sephiroth repeated a little firmer this time. He couldn’t. This wasn’t right. Their worlds were too far apart, “Answer me,”

“Strife, my last name. I’m supposed to take on the suffering for the town. The Bearers of Strife, and I’m not doing that. Tifa was hurt instead of me,” Cloud could have sewn his lips shut and still would have found a way to answer. He tucked into himself as small as he could manage, which was very small .

He’d had a lot of practice.

“You suffer, so the town does not,” Sephiroth wrung out the washcloth and swiped over Cloud’s cheek again using the contact to guide his head up to meet Sephiroth’s eyes. The tears that welled in his eyes burned with shame. This is how it always went, a too-harsh word or a stinging cut, and the stupid waterworks started. He was always crying, he hated crying, but he could never stop the tears. They fell from his face without permission and burned a path down to his chin. 

“What cruelty– foolishness from being too small to see past their superstition,” Sephiroth whispered and his eyes in the dim light of the evening were wide and dilated to catch as much light as possible. Just like a cat’s. They burned with indignation for *him* 

How was the most compassionate person Cloud had encountered since his mother was also the most inhuman? 

Not inhuman - just different. 

There was so much humanity in him. More than anyone in that town who wouldn’t stand up and decide his duty was wrong, they followed their belief blindly and without question in the name of tradition. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” Cloud whimpered like a beaten dog, a mix of fear and anger. He hated it. He couldn’t see any reason too through a thick sheet of self loathing that had only gotten worse as it was reinforced by Nibelheim.

“Because I am done being cruel,” Sephiroth said like someone who'd once done the beating.

Cloud got sick a lot. It was an unfortunate part of being the runt of the Nibelheim litter of children and generally having a poor constitution. One would think that living on a mountain would make a person tough and healthy, but Cloud had shit luck. So like clockwork every year when spring started emerging Cloud, ironically, got a cold. If there was any name for what Cloud got past “the Ick” he didn't know it. That would involve going to a doctor and Cloud’s insurance didn’t cover more than one doctor’s visit a year. All he knew was that he woke up with a pounding headache, runny nose, and a mild fever. It had never sent him to the hospital, but it did knock him out for the next two days. In an uncharacteristic stroke of good luck this time when he woke up with the telltale headache it was on a weekend. 

Sephiroth’s wing was too warm over him. In his haze of feeling like crap, Cloud kicked it off of him like any other blanket. Rather, he tried but he couldn’t catch the feathers with his foot and just ended up kicking air foot sliding across the feathers and waking Sephiroth up. Said person propped himself up on his elbow and looked confused as to what he’d done to be kicked.

“Too warm,” Cloud moaned as the fever lowered his ability to care about being polite. The wing moved and a breeze of cool air rushed to take its place. Oh that felt nice. Cloud sniffed deeply. The resulting noise was wet with mucus. Both of them cringed.

“Gross, tissue,” Cloud demanded and thought about the merits of blowing his nose on his sleeve. It wasn’t worth it. Trying to sit up was a bad decision as well. His head protested any movement that wasn’t breathing which his throat protested against. 

“You are contaminated,” Sephiroth said. Contaminated was a bit strong of a word for The Ick, but not strictly incorrect.

“No, I’m just sick,” Cloud wheezed, which earned him a coughing fit. The sheets rustled and the mattress shifted with Sephiroth getting up. Shortly, a glass of water knocked against the limp knuckles of Cloud’s hand. The instructions were clear. Cloud slowly drank the water in long sips rather than heavy fast gulps.
“Medication, were do you store it,” Sephiroth stood with the empty glass, the feathers on his wings slightly puffed up. Cloud thought about it very hard. 

“Kitchen, drawer near stove,” Cloud said weakly. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, and didn’t plan too any time soon, but the steps and rustling were signals enough that Sephiroth was looking in the right place. 

“What are you ill with?” Sephiroth demanded. He would use a word like ‘ill’. Sephiroth talked like a 50 year old man. Cloud would have laughed if he could work up the energy. It was much easier to lay there and laugh at his observation in his head. A hand moved his shoulder around, not shaking but needed his attention. 

“What?” Cloud complained. He moved his shoulder out of Sephiroth’s grasp like a fish would flop away from a fisherman. 

“What are you ill with?” Sephiroth repeated his question with more instances to be answered.

“I donno,” Cloud blinked his eyes open just in time to see Sephiroth looking far more worried than the annual spring cold deserved. 

“You don’t know ?” Sephiroth didn’t show it, but he sounded slightly horrified at the idea of not knowing what kind of germ or virus was invading Cloud’s body. Cloud felt it wasn’t a justified reaction. This wouldn't kill him or anything. 

“It’s just a cold,” This wasn’t a big deal. Cloud just wanted to go back to sleep.
“A cold?” Sephiroth asked.
“Mhmm, more water,” He wanted to stop talking, all of it was making his throat worse than it already was. More water was delivered along with two small pills from his bottle of ibuprofen. The medication did its job against the fever finally allowing Cloud to sleep.

Cloud slept and slept and only woke up briefly for coughing and more water. Every time Sephiroth hovered nearby like a nervous mother Choco-hen. It was honestly equal parts endearing and annoying. 

He even had the feathers for it.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Cloud rasped out in a moment of brief moments of both consciousness and coherency. Sephiroth’s eyes widened, taken aback by the sentiment. There really wasn’t much to do about the cold, but having someone to fret was nice.
“I cannot claim experience in caretaking, but you are not difficult to care for,”

It was about the illness. It wasn’t about any kind of relationship they had. Cloud when sick just stayed put and wanted water and sleep. Only to hear that- when everyone else had left- after years of thinking it was something he was doing wrong. That he was too difficult. His throat became thick with emotion and his heart fluttered in his rib cage uncomfortably.
“Thanks,” 

“Sleep more,”
It was into the evening by the time Cloud woke up feeling like he could sit up. Sit up he did, with another dose of coughing as the settled mucus in his chest broke up. Cloud made a low upset noise in his throat. He was actually a bit of a baby about being sick, only normally there was no one to complain to. 

“Soup,” Sephiroth said curtly and placed a bowl into Cloud’s hands. A kitchen towel was wrapped around the bottom to keep it from burning him. 

Never one to complain about food he didn’t make, but soup was a strong word for this. It was broth more than anything else. The soup was nearly clear with bits of vegetables and chicken meat in it, but it was warm and washed down more medication. 

“Thank you, I’ll be better by tomorrow, this happens every year at the beginning of spring” Cloud had said that to make Sephiroth less worried , but it ended up having the opposite effect.

“Every spring,” His frown deepened a fraction. 

“M'ok, really, just need rest and time,” Cloud tried to put him at ease but it would take more than easy words. It very clearly wasn't convincing. Sephiroth never fidgeted, but even without the nervous shifting that most people did, he was far from calm. Nervousness sat like an invisible, odorless gas around them. 

“Is there anything more I can do to make you comfortable,” Sephiroth asked. His deep timber made Cloud's brain drifty.

“Talk, tell me about you,” Cloud set the bowl aside and eased himself back into bed.
“What do you wish to know?” 

Cloud shrugged in response. 

“Anything, what's your favorite color?” Cloud knew it was kind of a dumb thing to ask, but he didn't know. It was one of those basic things you should know about another person.

“Blue, and I have never been sick,” Sephiroth spoke after a pause. Never been sick? Was that a SOLDIER thing? Cloud looked up from the mattress for more information. 

“My health was rigorously monitored by Hojo in the Research and Development department of Shinra, I was never ill. Samples would have been taken otherwise, and that is not pleasant,” Sephiroth said Hojo and Shinra like other people might talk about spoiled food. Cloud didn't know what to say to that. Being left wanting for words was becoming a regular occurrence around Sephiroth. Finding words that wouldn't come across as pity was also proving difficult. It was sad, but someone else being sad at you didn't make old wounds better, it was just a reminder.

“Being sick sucks, stay not sick,” is what Cloud settled on because it was the truth. Sephiroth smiled a bit.

The next morning was better in that Cloud woke up and could actually stay up. His throat still hurt, but going by the sweat the fever broke sometime in the night. Motivated by the protest of his knees Cloud attempted to stand, to middling success. Standing yes, but his legs were unsteady from a day of bed rest. Sephiroth guided him back into sitting. Cloud was nothing if not stubborn and now wanted to stand just for spite. 

“If you sit, I will tell you more about myself,” Sephiroth bargained.

Cloud fell onto the mattress. Sephiroth blinked at the suddenness of Cloud's compliance but regained his composure. Just like before, Cloud saw Sephiroth at a loss exactly what to talk about. In the whole expanse of a life what do you deem safe enough to share, but worth sharing in the first place?

“How old are you?” Cloud asked. It was such a simple question, but as Cloud ran through all the information he knew about his roommate that particular piece of information was missing. Sephiroth rolled the question around like a marble, but this really shouldn't be the sort of question a person had to think about.

“I don't know,” Was the quiet response he settled on. 

“What age do you think you are,” Cloud asked in a quick save of the mood.

“Late 20's,” Sephiroth replied. They were around the same age. Not that that meant anything, but it was interesting. They were around the same age but have lived lives that normally should have never crossed orbits. 

They should have been ships in the night, but somehow Sephiroth had found safe harbor with him.

Chapter Text

 It was a warm day when Sephiroth had dragged him out of bed at dawn and shoved him up the mountain, Cloud did his due diligence and complained the entire way up. At least winter was loosening its grip on the mountain as spring clawed its way forward. 

"I don’t care if you could kill me with a flick of your fingers, tell me why I’m vertical before 6 am before I throw you off this cliff you’ve conveniently brought us to. I have work in an hour,” Cloud rubs his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie that sported the words “10th Annual Shinra Reactor 1-A Field Day: Blue Team” on the front along with the logo. A stupid hoodie he got for free for participating in a stupid team building exercise last year which wasn’t good enough to be anything but an extra layer. Sephiroth in comparison was dressed in a T-shirt that Cloud had cut slits into it, so his wing could fit through it. Damn Soldier mako making Sephiroth not have to freeze his balls off every time he was this high up. The wing slowly extended to its full length and Cloud had a sinking feeling in his gut. 

In one motion Sephiroth picked him up and hurled both of them off the cliff. The wind screamed by Cloud’s ears or that might just be his own voice as Sephiroth dived, wing tucked close to his body. Not that Cloud really noticed at the time with the screaming and terror at literally falling off a cliff. Images of whales and petunias echoed in some part of his brain where sanity didn’t reach. What did he do to deserve this? Was this punishment for showing weakness? The rapidly moving air couldn’t seem to make its way into Clouds and that could be because of the screaming that now tore at his throat. After several utterly terrifying seconds of falling the whoosh of wind caught the newly outstretched black wing. They were jerked up as the wind caught the wing and took them aloft, Cloud’s stomach protested, but it was smooth gliding after that. Cloud screwed his eyes shut and clutched onto the thin shirt. His breath jerked out of his mouth in short bursts like a sputtering car engine still trying to pin down how to breathe again. 

“I will not drop you,” Sephiroth rumbled, the sound distorted a little from one of Cloud’s ears pressed into said man’s chest. Cloud’s mind hadn’t connected with the rest of his body well enough to comprehend Sephiroth’s words. It was noise in the air. Sephiroth sighed. 

“Open your eyes Cloud,” Sephiroth squeezed Cloud’s shoulder from where he was held. 

“No,” Cloud tucks his head into the crook of Sephiroth’s neck, his defined collarbone pressed against Cloud’s cheek. Defiant until the end even in the face of being dropped several hundred feet.

“ Look ,” Sephiroth whispers into his ear and his breath warmed the tips of his ears just as well as the blush. Just a peak wouldn’t hurt. Cloud’s eyes cracked open and were greeted with the clearest sunrise he’d ever seen. 

From this high up the horizon seemed to go on forever, the sky was spotted with clouds painted in the warm hues of morning. The trees below created a flush forest scene that leaped right out of a painting their evergreen needles capped with snow. This was the mountain he’d grown up in, the land he thought he’d known every inch of from an entirely new perspective. This was how the eagles saw it from high above with their privilege of wings. It stole not just his breath but both of his lungs too. The air wasn’t so cold anymore; it didn’t rip and rush past his cheeks in a terrifying plunge. Instead, the gentle gliding let Cloud absorb the wonderful scenery before him. Joy and wonder that he hadn’t had since childhood swelled so powerful it burst out as laughter. Joyful laughter bubbled out of him like carbonated cola. He smiled so much his cheeks ached. Dipping closer to the treeline, Cloud smelt the fresh pine. 

Was this what birds felt like all the time or was this open clear beauty mundane to them in the way homes always are to their inhabitants? Wide arching turns lead them to new parts of the mountains. Nibel Mountain Elk, larger and sturdier than any other species, ran in herds through the natural trails in the forest, instinct leading them down these paths for generations. Cloud saw them through breaks in the trees. They could see so much from up here not just in beauty but practically too. Herds and water could be spotted from the air instead of endless walking, oh Goddess the beauty of flight. The ground was so weird under his feet when they eventually landed.  Cloud stumbled almost drunkenly off the adrenaline of flight, with his feet going every which way. He wanted to fly forever, completely forget the idea of gravity and land then just go into Forever. He wanted to do it again! 

“That was incredible! You’re incredible Sephiroth!” Cloud’s words burst out in delight at the aerial ride, jumping literally with joy. Sephiroth murmured something. Cloud responded with a questioning noise more than a little out of breath.

“Say it again,” Sephiroth in a twist event, wouldn’t meet his eyes, and rather chose to look just above into the open mountain.

“That was incredible?” Cloud said.

“No, my name. Say my name again,” Sephiroth admitted, finally loud and clear enough to be understood. 

“Sephiroth,” Cloud said. The idea of Sephiroth’s identity loomed like an awful storm. They didn’t refer to each other all that much, there was no one else they could be talking to most of the time. That had helped Cloud to neatly compartmentalize it behind work and life. Saying his name out loud broke a spell over the situation; one day they’d have to face it. There were two Sephiroths somehow, and they’d have to deal with it. Cloud just hoped it wasn’t soon, because the light dusting of pink on Sephiroth’s ears was the cutest thing in fifty miles.

“Again,” Sephiroth whispered.

“Sephiroth.” Cloud declared more firmly. “Sephiroth, Sephiroth, Seph,” 

“Seph?” Sephiroth furrowed his eyebrows a little.

“Like a nickname, because Sephiroth is long,” Cloud hoped he hadn’t made a mistake. Names held power and sometimes deep meaning for whoever the belonged to. Cloud hadn’t always been Cloud. The worry melted away when a smile, new and small as the beginning of spring, spread over Sephiroth’s face. It gave a new structure to his face; before he’d always been set in a neutral, plain expression or twisted in confusion or rage. Happiness sanded down the hard edges and opened up his demeanor to someone less hollowed out. It suited him. Happiness suited him.

“I’ve never had a nickname before,” Seph tilted his head a fraction of a degree left. “I like how you say my name,”
Cloud didn’t think he said it in any particular way, but he’d say it more if it made Seph smile. It was a very pretty smile. 

“Let’s go home, I’m getting cold,” Cloud rubbed his hands up and down the sides of his arms careful of the healing bandage.

“Shall we fly?” Sephiroth didn’t smile but smirked. Cloud’s face lit up.

“Hell yes,”

Un-fucking- fortunately Cloud still had work, but thankfully they finally finally rolled out the summer uniforms. This made work at the reactor much more tolerable. Well as tolerable as you get at a Mako reactor. The slate gray of everything was numbing after his thrilling morning, but the buzz still lingered under his skin. He flitted from job to job with the engineers. Cloud knew the reactor pretty solidly thanks to the odd jobs all over that he was passed between to act as a separate set of hands. It was an unremarkable day in terms of work, but today was the one day that made this awful job worth it. 

Payday

Pay was given right after clocking out. A thick white envelope was given to each employee after clocking out at the terminal. It held the payment for the previous month’s work. One of the few nice things about working at Shinra was that you got the option to be paid in physical gil at the lower levels. Managers and actual technicians with degrees and stuff got paid too much for it to be practical to give actual coins and bills, but Cloud made low enough to get paper gil. This was fine by him, he didn’t even have a bank account, or trust banks in the first place. Cloud carefully counted out each gil down to the coin. Shinra liked to try to short change backwater folk thinking them too stupid or illiterate to count their money or read a check. The amount of hours he worked matched his own mental records and the amount of gil he received, and…

It wasn’t enough.

Even without paying for electricity, fire wood, or meat it wasn’t enough to keep buying the things he liked and pay for his new roommate. He knew this was coming, over the winter season that Sephiroth had been staying with him, his paycheck wasn’t going a far as it used to. His land rent had spiked a few months ago, and it was fine with just Cloud paying for himself, but now Sephiroth needed things like food and toiletries and clothes. Cloud needed to continue making health insurance payments to keep taking testosterone. He’d make it stretch. Ma did for 16 years. He could too. Cloud pocketed the money and went to help his less literate co-workers make sure they didn’t get shorted money just because they couldn’t read to double-check for themselves. 

Cloud thought of the things he could cut back on while walking home. He didn’t really need new gloves, he could just re-patch the hole again, so that could wait. He didn’t need a new bookshelf so that little pocket of money could go to the land rent. Switch to the cheap soap instead of buying the stuff to make the better kind. 

“You’re soft,” Sephiroth looked far away. Looked like he was remembering something that Cloud wasn’t privy to. 

Didn’t matter. 

He could buy fewer of the candles that helped to light the cabin. He could just empty his septic tank himself…. Gross . Maybe buying in bulk was more cost-effective? Cloud would have to drag out Ma’s old “turn leftovers from one meal into three” style cookbooks. He could pick up more hours. Just work more. Work work work. 

Cloud reached his front door and shook the thoughts from his head and face. Sephiroth had enough to worry about without this. The home was warm, a novelty that Cloud still couldn’t get over. This was one of the best parts of living with someone, someone to come home to. 

“Welcome back,” Sephiroth said as he placed a mug of coffee into Cloud’s slowly defrosting hands. Coffee! Sephiroth knew how to make coffee? Cloud takes a tentative sip, and it is just sweet enough, but the smoothness of the bean still came through. It was so much better than the swill at work. That tar was to keep him awake on double shifts not to be enjoyed, it was to be survived. Cloud smiled as he took another long drink. 

Wait 

Where had Sephiroth gotten coffee?

“Where did you get coffee?” Cloud asks while blinking up at him from over his mug. It really was good coffee, but if Sephiroth had gone into town without him, it could spell disaster in several ways each worse than the last. Sure Sephiroth was an adult and there was nothing about Cloud that could stop him, but he could still at least go with and herd him away from trouble. Cloud knew the trouble of Nibelheim better than anyone. Sephiroth only squeezed Cloud’s shoulder and went back to whatever he was fiddling with in the kitchen. The spot seemed to melt with the warmth of his palm. Cloud sipped his coffee and looked at the batter, pancake maybe, that was being poured into the heavy cast iron skillet. Cloud tossed the gil he’d gotten into its hiding spot under a loose floorboard.

“If you wash that with soap I’m kicking you out. I don’t care if you’re a foot taller than me,” Cloud glared. City folk would be the kind to wash off all the seasoning off his iron skillet.

“Indeed, I will fear your wrath and keep the soap far away, now sit,” Sephiroth gently pushed Cloud away with his elbow.  Rude! This was his house, why was he getting pushed around? Cloud felt like he should at least show a little outrage so he gave his best small huff and sat at the kitchen table. He made sure to look suitably offended at being ordered around in his own kitchen.

“You’re chatty today,” Cloud commented while Sephiroth flipped a pancake sprinkling more cinnamon into the batter. He hoped that chatty wasn’t taken as a complaint. Sephiroth’s deep timber of a voice was soothing.

“We had a good morning,” Sephiroth used his spatula to peek under the cooked side to see if it was properly browned. It was, and he picked up the large cast iron skillet and used momentum to flip the pancake. His big black wing shifted and fluttered a bit. Cloud’s feet and back hurt more than they should at 24, and the issues of money nipped at his heels. But right now with the taste of warm coffee and the smell of cinnamon pancakes, he thought things might just work out. 

Then there was a knock on the door. 

Cloud’s blood flash froze and Sephiroth’s attention snapped to the noise like a pointer hound after a fox. No one knocked on his door. Cloud Strife didn’t get visitors. His house was a chore to get to from town on purpose, and even then he didn’t know people well enough to warrant them making the trip up here. Cloud’s throat ached from his heart leaping up into it. Sephiroth moved silently from the stove to right in front of Cloud, placing his mass between him and the person on the other side of the door.
“It's me! Please open the door,”

Tifa?

What was Tifa doing back here? She was supposed to be all the way in Midgar! There was more urgent knocking. They hadn’t spoken since they were kids, what was she doing all the way out here? What did she want? 

It was Tifa .

“Do you recognize that voice?” Sephiroth whispers way too close to Cloud’s ear. 

Sephiroth. Sephiroth was here. 

He needed to get out of sight. 

The bathroom? No no. What if she came inside? That was too close to the door. One wrong noise and she’d know he was hiding someone. What if she needed to use said bathroom?

Upstairs. 

That was the only choice. 

Cloud grabbed Sephiroth and pushed him up the stairs. His heart pounded in his chest as he could just feel the time he had to answer the door without being suspicious tick down.

Sephiroth looked back confused.

“Just go, stay up there till I can get her to leave,” Cloud pushed down the frantic feeling as he shoved Sephiroth up the stairs which wasn’t an easy feat. Sephiroth held Cloud’s gaze in his own. Cloud knew what he looked like: scared, desperate, and panicked. He knew this wasn’t something that screamed everything was under control, but he couldn’t let Tifa know about the extra general of soldier that was hiding in his home with a massive bird wing. Sephiroth grabbed onto Cloud’s wrist. 

“Call out, and I will remove her,” Sephiroth said with deadly focus and intensity, and Cloud knew he wasn’t bluffing. Based on how he handled monsters in the forest Cloud could imagine how he would “remove her”. Let’s hope it won’t come to that. Finally hidden upstairs, Cloud scrambled for the door. Opening just enough to see each other, sure as snow in December, Tifa Lockhart stood on the other side of the door.  

She’d gotten taller since he’d seen her last, and a lot stronger. Muscles covered her arms and gave her the silhouette of a fighter. Her face was even different, her jaw was sharper and face slimmer. Her hair was much longer and was held by fabric near the bottom, but strands still collected around her face in the form of bangs. However, it was the way she held herself as someone much more confident than the girl the town saw leave for the big city that was the most meaningful change. It changed her entire presence. She looked like the adult that Cloud could never feel like. Years of feeling inadequate to his peers for being smaller, shorter, lowering came rushing back. The golden haze of the last few months, the joy, and the way Sephiroth made him feel important and worth a damn gave way to reality. Spring had settled into its place nicely chasing away any chill, so Cloud didn’t feel bad for not letting her in. 

“Hey,” she smiled like they were old friends and not people who hasn’t spoken in almost a decade then using the wrong pronouns and his old name said it was good to see him. Cloud’s girl name grated on his ears. It had been a while since he’d been called it, but Tifa didn’t exactly know that he was a he now. Age 16 had been an eye-opening year, and she’d left the moment she turned 15 for Midgar.

“It’s Cloud now.” Cloud forgot how itchy it made him to explain his new name. He hadn’t had to do that in years. “I’m a guy, he/him pronouns and stuff.”  

Tifa blinked in surprise a few times and then smiled that sweet understanding smile that drew everyone to her like a gravity well. He’d fallen into that pull once.

“Thanks for telling me, sorry for dead naming you,” She rubbed her arm awkwardly which made her more endearing. 

“It’s fine, you didn’t know. What do you need?” Cloud cut out the fake small talk. People who left Neibelheim didn’t come back for no reason, and especially not to visit him . 

“Can’t I just say hi? I was in the area,” Tifa smiled swayed side to side in a cute pose, and if Cloud had any interest in women romantically, or sexually he knew he’d be knocked out. Tifa was pretty, and she knew that and what kind of tool it was. 

“We’re not friends, Tifa. What do you want,” Cloud saw how her face fell, but it was true. They weren’t friends. Friends didn’t stop talking for a decade. Even before she left, Cloud had never really been part of the inner circle, but someone she invited to play because she was genuinely nice and no one else would. Maybe Cloud was being harsh, but he needed her to leave . Tifa’s face fell into something serious and grim, the act was dropped. 

“I need you to get me into the Nibelheim mako reactor,” She said with a completely straight face, serious as the reaper. 

This.

This was a joke right?

Cloud stared dumbfounded waiting for a punchline that refused to come. 

“I’m serious Cloud,” Her face was set with purpose and eyes cold. Cloud felt like the air had been knocked out of him. What did she want that was in the reactor?
“I could get fired Tifa, how did you even know I work at a reactor?” Cloud felt something ugly rise in his chest.
“A friend saw you on an employee record. You don’t need to come with me, I just need your ID card, and you can report it stolen,” Tifa explained like she was still asking for something benign.

“That’s still grounds for being fired! They’ll fire you for breathing wrong,” Cloud wasn’t even exaggerating. He had an asthma attack and got a demerit for an “unscheduled break” when he sat down to take his medication and try to get through it. 

“Shinra is killing the planet with those reactors, Cloud. They need to be stopped, or they'll just bleed the planet dry. You’ve always hated Shinra anyway! This is the chance to do something real,” Tifa pleaded with too much genuineness in her eyes. Cloud knew that rhetoric. He knew those words. “Killing the planet” and “Bleeding the planet dry”.  He'd seen those words spray-painted on the side of destroyed reactors, seen them on posters of “banned language” in the reactor. That was Avalanche propaganda. Tifa was a part of an eco-terrorist group, and she was a true believer. The insult to the injury was that Cloud did hate Shinra. He wasn’t naive; he knew they were corrupt. He agreed with what Avalanche was saying, (Deer that drank polluted water; skeletal and mutated. Entire sections of forest that his mother never let him go into. The strange things that warbled in the trees, too big to be birds, but the wrong sound to be monsters) but he needed his paycheck, and with no formal schooling past year 10 jobs that would take him were slim. Without a paycheck, he couldn’t get health insurance, couldn’t get money to make land rent, couldn’t buy clothes or the food he liked. 

He hated his job, he hated Shinra, but he couldn't live without his paycheck. 

“What are you going to do if you can get in,” Cloud wanted to hear her say it. 

“Bombs planted in strategic places to shut down the pump function. No one gets hurt and no meltdown, but the reactor stops working,” She lowered her voice to a whisper then added a fake-sounding giggle. If anyone saw them talking they’d just assume they were chatting. Damn it. Damn it Tifa! Why did she have to drag him into this? Make him decide if he was going to risk being an accomplice to fucking major property destruction? He wasn’t a fucking nark so he wouldn’t report her, but just talking to him made him involved. Cloud’s mind wandered to Sephiroth. He would make this problem just disappear. He could make it go away, and Cloud was sure Sephiroth wouldn’t hurt her if he asked. Cloud shook the idea out of his head. No. Wasn’t worth it. 

“I’m not going to help you blow up my job Tifa,” The words tasted like cowardice in his mouth. Tasted like a corporate lapdog. Tasted like being a good little wage slave, but if Cloud was involved it could mean more people near his house, meant fucking losing his house. 

“This is for the good of the planet Cloud!” She said as her eyebrows furrowed and crossed her arms. She was probably right and that burned.

“No, Tifa,” Cloud hated himself. Hated himself for not being stronger, for being chained to Shinra. Tifa was trying to make the world better; she found a higher calling, she had found more. Meanwhile, he was just trying to make it to tomorrow. 

“Fine, just– Don’t go into work on the 21st,” She walked away fists clenched, jaw tense. Cloud closed the door and breathed out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Today was the third. He had time. So long ago he’d wished there was more to his life, but this was not what he meant. He wanted not to be alone or not to be a reactor drone, not have the only girl who tolerated him from his town be an eco-terrorist. The fact there wasn’t any noise of Sephiroth coming downstairs made his nerves prickle. He was still upstairs. Cloud stood at the base of the stairs looking up into the darkness at the top. Dust coated the railing and steps. He felt dizzy looking at them, at thinking about going up them. 

“Sephiroth,” Cloud called but got no reply. 

He looked at the steps. It wasn’t a large flight of stairs. Cloud felt his heart beat rabbit like in his chest. Oh, this was stupid, who was scared of the second floor of their own house? 

Cloud gritted his teeth and promised to be brave. He’d go up there. He would. Each step made him nauseous and wanting to fly back down the stairs back to safer waters. 

This was fine. 

It was fine. 

The dust tickled his nose and the stares squeaked. That noise sent memories of childhood racing through his mind. No. He didn’t want those. It was late enough to be dark, but Cloud had walked these halls enough to know his way even at night. There was a door slightly ajar on the main hallway, the other two had stayed firmly shut like they should be. 

Cloud Knew which door this was. He Knew how it would look. He knew that, but his throat still caught on the sight of his mother’s bedroom just as it had been eight years ago, with rumbled sheets and all. It looked exactly like it had the day she died. 

Sephiroth stood in the middle holding her diary. There was the gut instinct to run over and snatch it from his hands. To scream at him that this, all of this, wasn’t for him to read or even look at. It welled up in him like hot magma, rage he’d forgotten he could feel. This was his mother’s room, and he was changing it by just breathing there. It had to stay just like this. Her bow on the wall, her books on the shelf, the clothes in the closet, nothing got to move, and Sephiroth was touching her stuff . He was reading his mother’s diary and getting tears in it. Water would ruin the ink, it would warp the page- 

Tears? 

He was completely blank faced as he read, but two thin lines of tears dripped from his chin. 

“You were so loved,” He says with his voice still that deep pitch unaffected by the tears. What?

“Before, my mind was so clouded by Mother’s love. I was so angry, she used that. She used my anger at the world, at the professor, to convince me that her will was love. That was not love . Claudia loved you so much. She wanted you to be different from her. To have your own thoughts and wants and desires. Before was a lie , I have never known the love of a mother,” Sephiroth down right rambled as he read. He touched his fingers to his cheek and flinched at the tears. He looked like spun sugar, an ungraceful hand would break him into fine shards. Cloud in part wanted to be that hand, rage at Sephiroth for helping himself to his mother's private thoughts. His shoulders tensed into iron. Another part of him looked at the man who took him flying, made him dinner, and always made sure he was warm and felt nothing but rage that Sephiroth’s mother would hurt him. Mothers were supposed to protect and care for their kids, or at least step back so someone else could. Cloud fought back tears of his own and pulled a dust covered book off the shelf. 

“She used to read to me each night, and when I got old enough to insist that I didn’t need fairy tales she read with me, and. ” Cloud took a gulp of air, “She always loved teaching me about Nibel mountain and always made sure my plate was full even if it meant hers was empty,”

Cloud felt tears well up and for once he didn’t feel ashamed or frustrated. His mother deserved to be cried over. Cloud listlessly moved across the room and slid onto the floor leaned up against Claudia’s bed. The thick quilt smelled like dust and age as Cloud turned his head into it. Sephiroth looked around at the space, at her long-expired makeup on the vanity, at the crystal wind chimes in the window, at all the little touches that made the room so beautifully and painfully her’s. All of them covered in a thick layer of dust. He then turned his gaze onto Cloud.

“She haunts this place, haunts you,” Sephiroth closed the diary and placed it back perfectly onto the dust-free spot where it had been moved from on the dresser. Cloud knew that. He knows he's keeping part of her trapped here, but..

“I can’t let her go,” He sniffled and clenched his fists. He knows this isn’t healthy, he knows locking away all his pain in the second story of the house wasn’t the answer, but everything else hurt too much. He doesn’t want this grief, he wants to be mad at Sephiroth, he wants to cling to rage; easy and volatile. None of that changed that Sephiroth was right.

“She’ll never be a memory, but lives on through you, in the kindness you extend to those who do not deserve it and the respect you show to nature,” The frantic episode from a few minutes ago seemed to have settled down. Cloud's own vulnerability gave Sephiroth something to focus on. Sephiroth took Cloud’s hands in his own. He hadn’t worn his black gloves in a solid month so he could feel the absence of calluses despite his skill with Masamune.  Cloud shook with the honesty of his words. 

“Let neither of us be weighed down by our mothers, but be free to reject or honor them as we see fit,” Sephiroth hugged Cloud to his chest. It was too much, thinking about this was all too much, but Sephiroth was strong and solid and his skin inhumanly cool to the touch against his too warm cheeks. A frayed cord in his heart snapped finally after seven years of grief. Loud aching sobs came from deep in his chest. He cried out for his mother who passed on a quiet spring day when Cloud was 16. He cried for all the years he spent alone on the edge of Nibelheim. He cried and cried. He shattered in Sephiroth’s arms.

“I’m sorry that she died.”  Sephiroth whispered into Cloud’s hair. A fresh round of sobs broke out of him. He’d buried his mother alone. No one wanted anything to do with the Strife of the village. No one had helped him grieve. No one until Sephiroth. “But do not hide her away in this room,” 

“I don’t know how,” Cloud eked out through gritted teeth. He couldn’t fix eight years of grief in one evening. Sephiroth released him and moved to the window. With hands careful enough not to bruise the wing of a butterfly he took down the crystal window charm. A glittering cloud and sun behind it. 

“Like planning a large operation, we start small.” Sephiroth placed the charm in his hands. “Let’s place this downstairs where it can shine,”

“I- I’m sorry you never got to know your mom, but I’m sure mine would have loved you,” Cloud rubbed at his face furiously and tried to give at least a weak smile. Sephiroth breathes out a sigh. 

“That means more than you know,”

Chapter Text

Cloud swore as he dropped a piece of shitty radio. Both of them sat at the kitchen table, Sephiroth read mom's diary again for some reason and Cloud waged war against a broken radio he'd gotten for free off of Liam earlier that day. Cloud had always been at least decent with machines and radio's couldn't be that complicated? Right?
Cloud swore again as the piece refused to fit back into place. Stupid piece of junk. Cloud screwed in another part. Work? Please? Cloud had been working on this thing for the better part of the evening after his shift and a bath. Once they'd had an old record player, but at some point Cloud had sold it after he was freshly orphaned to make rent. Cloud connected some wires together with a bit of duct tape. Duct tape was the handyman's secret weapon and Cloud was a skilled user of the stuff. He ripped off one last piece to tape up the antenna then finally added fresh batteries to the compartment. 

Sephiroth looked over with light interest. Cloud turned it on and nothing. He flipped the switch on and off then finally just hit the damn thing with the heel of his hand. The radio buzzed to life with music. It was surprisingly loud for being not all that big. Take that radio! Cloud smiled and immediately started to fiddle with dials, tuning into nearby stations which wasn't a lot. News, news, local news, whatever, MUSIC! 

A slow jazzy tune came out. HA! Cloud grinned as the music drifted through the air. He got up and drifted around the kitchen. He loved music. He'd spent hours learning how to play the piano at the Great Hall. Now he wasn't sure if his hands remembered how to play but notes and instruments filled his limbs and guided him slowly around the first floor. No actual step, but whatever his feet decided to do. It had been so so long . Cloud opened his eyes to see Sephiroth had put down his book (a fantasy this time) and now was gazing at him, head resting on his hand. There was warmth in his gaze, affection with a spark of something more. Cloud felt himself flush. Stupid fair mountain skin. Cloud straightened his spine and hoped it would hold with what he was about to do. Cloud waved over Sephiroth. The height difference made what he was trying to do awkwardly difficult. It was an ungraceful gangle of limbs and stammered apologies and instructions. 

“Let me,” Sephiroth said and pulled their bodies together, left arm wrapped around Cloud's waist and the right hand grasped Cloud's same hand. It was like something jumped right out of a movie. Cloud’s heart steady beat jumped up in tempo to the proximity. 

“I didn't know you knew how to dance,” Cloud whispered, not trusting his voice to be louder.

“I've been told this is not dancing, it's just swaying in place,” Sephiroth said, his face a full head taller than Cloud. It had always been a factor, but now it felt so much more present this close. His body was warm and that new heart beat was steady and strong next to his cheek when Cloud carefully laid his head against Sephiroth's chest.  

“Whatever it is, it's nice,” Cloud murmured, lost in the music and the touch. Sephiroth ran warm instead of cold these days. Long silver hair sat in its normal braid, but had been draped over his shoulder letting it hang along the front of his body. it smelled of rose and pine. They swayed in time to the music, letting the evening wash over them. After work and the day in combination with the warmth and steady beat of Sephiroth’s heart a sleepy haze settled over Cloud’s mind. This. He wanted to stay like this forever. Let the world outside be; they would stay here in the music and lo-

A cry from outside broke the trance. Both of them were snapped from their drowsy dance. Cloud flinched, froze like a spotted rabbit, but then rushed outside with a rifle that lived by the front door. He loaded the rounds kept nearby on the window sill into the chamber. In a single moment he snapped into the hunter that had managed to live on Nibel Mountain with monsters for his entire life. 

Instead of a monster or even injured wildlife, a man with blood flowing down his arm stumbled into the front clearing. Cloud blinked in surprise a few times but kept his stance ready to take recoil from a rifle shot. All together the man was unassuming, plain hair with clothes in the typical nibel style. Not overly tall, but not overly short either. Cloud gripped his gun. 

“Who are you, you need a permit to be this high up,” Cloud wasn't bluffing, this high up was blocked off to civilians because it tended to get people killed. 

“I- please! I just got lost, It was a dare from some friends, Please I- I have connections to Shinra! I can get you money if that's what you want,” he pleaded with wild frightened eyes. He felt genuine, but the dark and Nibelheim's record of fucking with him kept his rifle raised. His face turned from scared to confused as his gaze moved from Cloud to just above his shoulder. 

“The general?” The man whispered, squinting in the darkness. 

Fuck

Fuck fuck shit damn FUCK

Cloud moves his finger onto the trigger. 

“W-what are you doing? Was that really Sephiroth? I-it looked exactly like him! Just right behind you,”
Cloud could just gaslight him. 

There was nothing behind Cloud. He was crazy. Sephiroth was clearly in Midgar. No one would believe him. What was Sephiroth doing on a mountain in the middle of nowhere?

“Here look! I have a go-pro, it- it was part of the dare please I'm not crazy!” The man pleaded again, showing off a camera on his wrist that hadn't been visible before in the low light. 

Camera.

He had a camera 

Visions raced through Cloud's mind. Shinra swarming the mountain, taking him, taking Sephiroth, raiding his house, his home, the Turks disappearing him. Dying with no one to remember him, officially unpersoned with any record of him gone.  Sephiroth gone. Taken. People coming up the mountain to see the rumored clone. Whispers spreading like typhoid. Harassment. Lies. Sephiroth having to leave. He's alone again. Alone Alone Alone. Sephiroth chased and hunted down. He’s alone and angry. They were going to hurt Sephiroth. 

Cloud pulled the trigger.

Three things: 

1. It didn't feel any different from when he aimed at an animal. 
2. When a human head meets an object moving over a thousand miles per hour the back explodes. Brain matter with bits of skull along with a good amount of blood covered the trees and the man had fallen on his back from the momentum. 
3. The smell was pungent. 

Cloud collapse to his knees and vomited violently on the deck. His dinner pools in a foul smelling puddle of bile and half-digested food. His throat burned from the stomach acid. Cloud retched until he was convinced he tasted blood. He couldn’t feel his hands; static and fluff filled his head. 

He'd killed someone. 

He couldn’t taste anything else but blood.

A person was dead because of him. He couldn’t breathe. Where was the air? He couldn’t breathe. His lungs wouldn’t work. 

A scream bubbled up his throat before a hand clamped over his mouth sealing it in. 

“The gunshot is normal but if you scream it will call attention if there are others,” Sephiroth said as he pulled Cloud tight to his chest. The embrace, the weight, and pressure, forced Cloud’s spinning mind into something manageable.
“Go inside, calm yourself. I will see that your mountain takes care of the body,” Sephiroth moved away and Cloud almost reached out. He didn’t want to be alone. Not with his spinning thoughts and roiling stomach and the taste of blood in his mouth. Sephiroth dragged the body into the deep into the dark of the woods. 

His limps slowly melted from rigid iron, but he could still feel the recoil of the rifle. He’d shot that thing hundreds of times, but tonight it echoed in his muscle. The fight draining out of him along with terror till all that was left was nausea and exhaustion. 

Cloud didn’t move and instead stared at the blood stain on the ground; a man was dead. A man with friends and a life and Cloud had taken it from him. Had taken him from the people he loved. Cloud didn’t even know his name.

Maybe that was for the better. 

He’d killed someone. He’d killed someone . Someone was dead because of him. Violence for the sake of blood . He was a fucking hypocrite. 

“Why did you shoot him?” Sephiroth had returned after hours away without his gloves and his chest coated in blood.
“H-he had a camera, word could have gotten out. Shinra would be crawling all over this mountain. You can barely leave the house as is,”
“I could have just left the area,”
“No! No. I don’t want you to leave.” Cloud hesitates, “Do you want to leave?”
“No, that would be disagreeable,” They sit and stare at each other as a realization dawns in Sephiroth’s eyes, “You killed that man - for me?”
“I- yes. Yes I did. I just knew I couldn’t let that get out, and my gun was in my hand, and it just seemed like the best way to make sure it didn’t get out. Goddess, I’m sorry! Oh gods, I’m an idiot, what have I done? You don’t want that on your shoulders. What have I done ,” Cloud blathered and let every panicked thought tumble out of his mouth. He wanted to scream out. Everything was fucked because of him. Because he killed someone. It was all his fault. Someone would find the body, they’d hang him. They would hang him . Fear felt like venom eating away at the soft bits of his organs, liquifying them. His throat tightened as tears started pouring out of his eyes turning the world into a blurred mess. 

A hand cups the back of his head, fingers pianist long and SOLDIER strong tangling in his choppy hair. Lips were on his. The world came back into sharp focus. The lips pulled away just for them to return stronger and with more purpose. There were no sparks or fireworks, just warmth where there had never been before. Skin meeting skin in a way that was new and strange. All the racing thoughts faded into radio static and in crisp clear vision was Sephiroth looking at him like he’d managed to be incredible.

W-

What?

“I-” Cloud tried to get his voice to work.

“No one will ever take you from me,” Sephiroth stared intensely with diamond sharp focus on Cloud. Fire burned in his eyes that would swallow the world if given the chance. The rest of the world faded into blurry irrelevance. His clear green eyes gave off a faint glow and his cat-like pupils were wide in the now nighttime darkness, possibly to take in more light. It was grounding when it really should have terrified him. Then again, Cloud had never been one to make the logical choice with Sephiroth.

“O- Okay,” Cloud didn’t know what to say to that. He remembers what he’d said on that breezy summer morning about trying to burn the world to the ground. Cloud was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace, silver hair brushed against his shoulder. In these large strong arms Cloud felt like the outside world couldn’t reach him, and as the massive black wing covered him the feeling of safety compounded. It trapped in warmth and his shaking hands had slowly seemed to regain feeling.

Maybe things would be OK. They could make it work. 

Right?

Cloud sipped on tea when Sephiroth emerged from the bath. (the water pump outside had thawed and now actually worked) His long hair dripped water onto the floor that Cloud was too tired to clean or care about. It was a little odd to see it free flowing after constantly being in a braid. Sephiroth had on a button-up shirt with sturdy denim pants that he had found incredibly novel when they were first purchased. Cloud touched his lips. They where cracked and dry, but that wasn’t anything new. The kiss hadn’t changed any thing. Not that it was supposed to, it was just a kiss. What had Cloud done to warrant such affection? Sephiroth held out his old hairbrush and sat down. He’d just shot someone and Sephiroth wanted him to braid his hair? Part of Cloud wanted to curl tighter into himself and just drink his tea, but the kinder part won out. After handing his mug off to be held by Sephiroth, Cloud got to work. Three even section, right over middle, left over middle, repeat. The familiar repetitive motion seemed to focus his frayed nerves. The simple task was at least a brief respite from the echo of the gunshot and the sight of brain turned into mince meat.  Cloud whispered a small “thanks”, throat still raw after the evening. 

It was already night. The sky outside was dark. 

His small cabin was filled with shadows made from the candlelight. Cloud didn’t see a face in them. There was nothing there. It was just him and Sephiroth. It was going to have to be fine.

Now familiar lips placed a kiss on Cloud’s knuckles. 

“Why did you kiss me,” Cloud choked out, brain and his mouth acting before he could stop them. If it was any other day than this one he might have been terrified about the answer, would have worried himself into a panic attack and then just never asked. But because today was today, he was too tired to care.

“Because I wanted to,” Sephiroth said and that was that. 

Cloud snapped awake for the third time that night, or was it morning now? The clock on his bed was pretty useless when the numbers were just a fuzzy blur. His limbs were so heavy and his eyes wouldn't focus. The harsh sleep had even stolen his grip. The black feather's of Sephiroth's wing tickled his nose. When Cloud's eyes did finally focus, Sephiroth was staring at him. Cloud blinked rapidly and scooted away and sat up. 

“Were you watching me?” Cloud's voice was thick with sleep.

“Yes,” Sephiroth admitted with zero shame. Cloud swallowed thickly trying to get his voice working that early in the morning. That was a little weird, but Sephiroth was a little weird so it was at least in character. The events of the night rushed back, and Cloud wanted to throw up again. Sephiroth had said he’s taken care of the body, but how? An alarm went off on his alarm clock reminding him that he had work. Cloud wanted to hurl himself off a cliff. All those people, and having to act normal and not like he had just killed someone the night before. Cloud scrubbed his face trying to get himself back to normal or at least up and moving. Sephiroth pressed his face into Cloud’s hair. 

“This is not the first body I have hidden. They will not find it,” Sephiroth reassured. It didn’t do much to stop the compounding sense of dread. It wasn’t comforting that Sephiroth had hidden bodies before, but it wasn’t surprising either.

“I have to get ready,” Cloud murmured, still really not trusting his voice. He didn’t want to move. Or be a person at all. The last day had been enough emotions for a lifetime, but the cogs of capitalism turned on. 

Cloud wasn’t exactly sure how his week could get worse after murder, but life always found a way just for him. The entire next day at work had been filled with toxic paranoia. There was no way that everyone in the reactor knew about his actions last night. There would be military police and handcuffs and his arrest, but there was nothing of the sort. Cloud just spent the whole day in a paradox of being both jumpy and tired which didn’t seem fair. His mind raced fast enough it was hard to do his work. Salem frowned, disapproving of sloppy work, but didn’t report it thankfully. He knew that not everyone was looking at him, they were focused on their work the same as him, but that didn’t stop the creeping feeling that he was being watched. That they all knew his sins. Paranoia was a hell of a drug. Not that Cloud had ever gotten high before. The more superstitious part of him expected the man's ghost to rise again and drag him out in front of everyone. It was a silly idea, but Cloud’s mind was committed to playing out every scenario of how Cloud gets found out and killed. Liam was kind enough to push his sleeve of crackers in Cloud’s direction with a smile. That was nice at least. 

Then the bombs went off. 

Cloud screamed and dove for the ground. SHIT FUCK . What day was it? Was Tifa's attack supposed to be today? He hadn't checked the calendar today fucking gods. The emergency lights bathed the lunchroom in red as the emergency announcement told them to leave in an orderly calm fashion. A few of the senior techs for the plant ran deeper inside. They shouted about stabilizing the drill and pump systems. They needed to keep the plant from shutting down or Nibelheim would be without power for weeks. Cloud froze. He could help. He knew the reactor inside and out; knew what the quickest way to get to the drill. Nibelheim was already so poor even with the reactor. The schools and houses and clinics all relied on it. His breathing stuttered to a stop. Move. Make a choice. Run or stay. Run or stay. Run or stay.

[Cool clear green eyes and a rare smile fragile as dew on morning grass. Blood. Gore. A single gunshot.]

Run.

Cloud took off toward the emergency exit with the rest of the low level workers. They pushed and cursed each trying to get out just a few steps before someone else. Panic and shouts fueled the growing chaos. It was a fight to avoid getting trampled by the mob as they clawed for the exit. The light outside only gave image to what they all feared. Smoke billowed into the afternoon sky giving it a hazy filter. It burned his nose and caused his eyes to water when the wind blew it across the growing crowd. Around him gasps and murmurs created a blanket of terrified white noise. Team leaders held up their team's color and letter, a way to find each other in emergencies like this. Salem held up a folder that was blue with the letter C on it. 

“STRIFE” she shouted at him while smacking his shoulder. Cloud startled; pulled from the numbing chaos around them. 

“Are you injured?” She asked as was company policy. 

“No, no I'm fine,” Cloud answered. At least this would cover up anyone finding the body. 

He immediately felt his stomach drop into his toes. What kind of thinking was that! That's not what good people think. Goddess, he's happy that his job was blown up because it helped cover up his murder. Cloud wanted to be sick. He was sick at himself. 

They stayed on that lawn for hours as people who'd stayed to try to salvage the reactor trickled out coughing and wheezing. They were immediately separated from the larger group. Cloud could hear the loud harsh clicking of the mako sensors from where he was standing, onsite nurses took readings. Some of them had peeling, gooey burns on his hands and arms. Others were physically less damaged, but looked ready to pass out; sickly. The shame stuck to him as he couldn't help but be glad that he didn't stay. He couldn’t have any attention on him for several reasons. That didn’t change the fact those people were brave and ran into danger, while Cloud ran away like a selfish coward. This wasn't some combat area, this was his job, his job was to walk that reactor all day, and he knew it top to bottom. He really could have helped and didn't.

Cloud bit his cheek. 

 He'd sat down in the bare dirt, letting the feel of it ground him. It was weird how Cloud could feel bored in this situation, but he was. Walking around wouldn’t help, team leaders were busy enough as it was trying to organize people. They had some system and procedure Cloud didn’t know, so the best thing to do was just sit there with nothing to do. He was bored, but clawed for something to do. Something he could control , but he just had to sit there and wait. A few more hours and then the ambulances started arriving, red lights harsh against Cloud's already sensitive eyes. Emergency responders started placing blankets around people that looked worse for wear and some of those with worse wounds were placed inside the ambulances probably going to better hospitals a town or two over. Several people were crying, some had gotten hurt and clutched at their ears. Guilt clawed at Cloud’s stomach. He could have prevented this.  A responder crouched down in front of Cloud. He was clean-shaven with dark hair pulled back. His skin was brown, but he couldn't tell the undertone.

“Hi, my name is Emmanuel, can you tell me yours?”
“Cloud,”
“Okay Cloud, does anything hurt or do you feel a painful tingling in your fingers or toes?”
“My chest is tight, but I have asthma,”
Emmanuel shines a light in his eyes, probably looking for the green tint of mako sickness. He felt around Cloud's lymph nodes. 

“Ok, do you have your inhaler on you,” 

It had been in the reactor clinic.

“No, but I have a backup at home,” 

“Ok, I can put you on some O2-”
“No,” that would be expensive. Hell he might get charged for this conversation.

Emmanuel gave Cloud a water bottle and went off to look at other workers. Cloud drifted, thoughts drifted in and out of completion. He'd start a train of thought and then rapidly lose track of it. The grass beneath his hands was scratchy, and the dry dirt dug into his palms. A black van had pulled in behind the ambulances. It was like the shuttles that brought people in from other towns to work. A man with fiery red hair and a bald black man got out. The red head locked eyes with Cloud.  Small tattoos under his eyes contrasted the bright green of them. He was in a suit, Oh that was Shinra uniform. 

Oh that was secret police. Cloud quickly looked away. 

It wasn't like Shinra's secret police (Turks, whatever) was all that secret, but Cloud knew better than to attract their attention. 

It took another several hours before Cloud was allowed to go home far past his normal time to clock out. Head counts needed to be finalized and statements taken. Cloud tried not to think about what it meant that they didn't take his. It could be nothing. It could be not wanting to scare a potential culprit into hiding. Thoughts weighed heavy on his chest, they swirled and fought each other for attention. The body buried somewhere, the explosion that he knew about, that he could have prevented , his job. Gods his job. What was he going to do for money till they fixed it? Cloud heaved a sigh, and opened the door. His scream was cut short when he realized it wasn’t the Turks hiding in his home to grab him to drag him away into an unmarked van, but Sephiroth hugging him tight. One arm was wrapped around his waist, and the other was cupped the back of his head. It was like a very comfortable bear trap. 

“Seph?” Cloud asked, trying to look up at him, but that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. His face snuggled against the linen shirt. 

“You are safe now,” Seph said more to himself than to Cloud. His chin sat in Cloud’s spiky hair that had grown out almost to his shoulders. His tone was relieved or thankful, but just restating that fact probably to comfort himself. The entire day Cloud had been so in his own head he hadn’t even thought of Sephiroth. 

“I’m okay. The attack on the reactor that Tifa told us was today, I just forgot about it,” Cloud felt more than a little stupid for forgetting. Life had given him the ultimate distraction last night, and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the possibility of being found out. Maybe he deserved to be found. Brought to justice. The thought took violent root. A life for a life. Balance the scales. He was spending so much time worrying, he hadn’t even thought about the way out right in front. It would be the right thing to do as well. Life wasn’t fair, but that didn’t mean Cloud couldn’t try to help make it a little bit more. 

“No, you did not forget, I would not have allowed you to go into work if it was. The attack was early,” Sephiroth’s voice snapped him out of the thought. Right. He had someone who depended on him now, or at least wanted him around. 

Someone who cared . There was finally someone who cared . The idea made warm fluff drum up in his chest. He’d long given up on the idea of companionship after his mom died, but now it was right here in front of him after so long. It was real in the silver hair and green cat eyes and raven wing. It was breathing and warm, with its arms around him in an embrace that could last forever. He wasn’t alone anymore, really hadn’t been in months. Loneliness had clung to him so tightly that he couldn’t see what had been in front of him for so long. A small bubble of joy in the form of laughter came out of him and Sephiroth looked down like a confused dog. His head was tilted slightly and everything. 

“I’m not alone anymore,” Cloud smiled and the anxiety and guilt took a seat for just a little bit. Just so he could have this one delicate moment. Sephiorth’s expression softened into a gentle smile to match.

“You have not been in a while, and you will never be again,” Sephiroth bent down to press his forehead to Cloud’s temple, lips resting against his jaw. He smelled of roses. It was a lofty promise. 

Eventually they separated and Sephiroth moved them into the kitchen so he could make dinner. He was working off one of his mother’s old cookbooks. It had been store bought originally, but she’d written in the margins like she had done with most of her books. The recipes were altered to fit their own tastes and available ingredients. Tonight was minced meat hand pies. Cloud still felt a little giddy, and was content to stare at Sephiroth. His hair hadn’t changed in length or texture in the almost 5 months they’d been living together. It sat in its normal braid, and he wore his normal long work pants and linen shirt. The wing that he barely noticed anymore sat nestled up his back, almost like some feathered creature had latched onto his back.  Sephiroth’s long fingers kneaded the flour into a pie crust and that's about when Cloud’s mind began to really start processing the day.

The attack was early. Had Tifa lied? It never seemed like her style, at least with people she knew.

But Cloud had changed.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one who had.  

Chapter Text

Cloud woke in the morning a little overly warm, which was normal with the massive insulating bird wing on him. It was a little disorienting to wake up on a proper bed on a proper frame than just the floor. He had to actually get up instead of rolling into a stretch on the floor. 

Sephiroth was of course already awake and staring at him.

It was amazing how quickly he got used to things when there was no other choice. The morning light was filtering in through the blinds highlighting his childhood room in gold. 

“Must you get up?” Sephiroth asked long silver hair spilling out from his braid. Cloud motioned him to sit up to redo it.

“I have to go job hunting in town, something temp until the reactor is fixed,” Cloud yawned as he talked and worked. No matter what the silver strands never tangled. Maybe it was a mako thing.

Maybe it was just a Sephiroth thing. 

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Sephiroth said as he shifted to look back, but not enough to move his head too much. They’d been since the tomato incident, but as long as they were together all he got was dirty looks which whatever, he’d gotten those since he was 10. 

“It’s too warm for your cloak and goggles, you’ll draw attention if you wear them,” Cloud said, and left out the ‘you might also scare possible employers’ part. 

“Am I to stay in this cabin all summer and spring?” Sephiroth’s words sounded flat which meant he either thought Cloud was being ridiculous or frustrated.

It was often both.

“No, I’ll figure something out,” He would. When he had a job. Cloud finished off the braid with a hair tie, and really didn’t want to get up. Job hunting was the worst, and his situation made it worse. 

No one wanted to hire the Strife. 

“I still do not want you to go down alone,” Sephiroth grabbed his wrist, and for one terrible moment Cloud thought Sephiroth was going to hurt him. Blood flashes of their first meeting almost half a year ago stuttered his heart for a fraction of a second. Looking at those now, the sharp fear had dulled, but he’d never forget exactly what Sephiroth was capable of when angry.

They’d managed to not have a serious fight yet simply by virtue of Cloud being gone to work for 70% of the day and both of them were quiet by nature. Staying out of each other's way had worked to avoid conflict. They didn’t fight because most of the time they didn’t talk . Was this the tipping point? 

“We need money,” Cloud replied and tried to pull his wrist back to no avail.

“You said we have savings,” Sephiroth countered a challenging glare in his eyes.

“Not enough,” the poor kid in him flared. He’d been working till he was 16 and the idea of not having some kind of income made him nervous. Nervous enough to make him pig-headed. Enough to make him mean.

“Are you going to stop me?” the air held tension like moisture, Sephiroth could stop Cloud. It wouldn’t even be hard for him, but it was the question of if he was willing to go that far. Their relationship, whatever it was, was not an equal one. There was nothing stopping Sephiroth from stepping into Main Street, Midgar, and announcing himself to the world. If anything, Cloud needed Sephiroth more than Sephiroth needed him. All the power both physically and emotionally was on one side. 

“No, but I will not soothe your burns when that town decides to hurt you this time. Not when I already warned you,” Sephiroth’s voice was icy with frustration, as if Cloud was the one being unreasonable and not the person who would see Cloud jobless whittling away his savings. All the good-natured affection was frozen out and replaced by hostility. Cloud was man enough to see through an argument when he was the one who started it. 

“I’ll be back later,” Cloud refused to stomp around his house like a child. He calmly grabbed his clothes from the hall closet downstairs. An almost ill-fitting suit that he’d used for interviews before when he’d gotten the job at the reactor. The seams itched, and the tie felt too tight around his neck, but it’d have to do. Sephiroth loomed from the top of the stairs and didn’t say a word as Cloud marched out the door.

In Nibelhiem there was one place he was always safe.

The Great Hall. 

A massive structure at the center of town that was the focal point of life. Two stories and a mural older than most of the buildings in town painted on the ceilings of winged women lifting warriors into Valhalla. In the corner of the painting, there was a man with spiky blond hair, back full of knives, reaching out to the Valkyries. Cloud’s face grimaced, and he held on a little tighter to his backpack.

It was also neutral ground. Strictly taboo to get into fights there. Well, at least on the first floor; the bar on the second floor was free game for whatever score decided needed settling with fists. 

Anyway–

The first floor was basically a community center with a newsletter, pool table, dining and lounge areas, and what Cloud was looking for. Job postings . 

The board had a few listings that Cloud felt confident to apply for.

“Shop Mechanic - 1,600 gil per hour, experience with machines required, training provided, must have your own transportation. 

Must be fine with cigarette smoke,” 

The listing said, and the last part was hastily written with some sort of marker. 

It was definitely an upgrade from his 1,000 gil an hour at the reactor. Cloud didn't strictly have mechanic experience, but he did work with machines, and they would say they'd train him. 

“Sorry kid, I'm just looking for someone who lives a bit closer than up the mountain. Work picks up unexpectedly, and I'd need you here ASAP if there was an emergency. A 20-minute walk down the mountain isn't it. This got nothing with you being the Strife. Promise,”
Charlie said with his hand on his hip and Cloud's resume in his other. It was a valid issue, but still tasted bitter. Charlie was a nice guy, he seemed to mean what he said, but that didn't lessen the sting. 

“Here's my personal card, got a friend in Rocket Town, Cid Highwind, he's a plane mechanic and if you're willing to move I'm sure he'd at least give ya' a second glance,” Charlie looked genuinely sorry. 

Cloud shoved the card in his pocket.

“Dishwasher - 1,500 gil an hour. Able to to lift 20 lb comfortably, 9am to 4 pm, Summer's Diner”

“I'm just not sure if you're what we're looking for hon', thank you for applying,” Summer's tone was chemically sweet and full of bullshit. She looked ready to end the interview the moment it had started. Cloud sighed into his palm as he dragged it down his face. That had been a waste of an hour. 

“Don't be so hard, you were never going to get the job,” A young man at the counter with poorly dyed black hair and a face full of piercings. 

“Thanks, didn't ask,” Cloud snapped out. The man didn't look phased, which did earn a little respect for being that level of unbothered. 

“I mean , that job was always going to go to her niece. She only posted the offering to try and hide the nepotism,” The man  said not even looking at Cloud. 

Oh, well. That did make Cloud feel a little better. Didn't give him that hour of his life back. 

Tip's (general sales associate) - 750 gil an hour, 25 hours a week.

“I don't want the Strife working here,” Leaf said. He'd barely looked at his resume for 30 seconds before handing it back to him. 

“You won't even interview me?” Cloud had never been so outright rejected because of his status before. Never so damn blatant about their distaste for him. 

“You're bad luck,” Leaf said flatly and like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Cloud tried to sputter out some kind of intelligent answer, but couldn't seem to organize his thoughts into a straight retort. 

“Fine!” Cloud flapped his arms in the air, finally too baffled to stand it anymore and left. 

“Home Cleaner - by commission, must be willing to travel for the work day with company,”

“I'm just looking for someone with more experience in home maintenance, you have a good resume, good luck with your search,” Fern was a sweet older woman with a gentle smile that Cloud had a hard time being upset at. It raised the question of how hard cleaning could be, but admittedly Cloud has no experience with being a personal cleaner so he does understand why she wouldn't take him. He was also exhausted from running around Nibelheim all day doing interviews, so maybe he wasn't the most appealing applicant. He just needed enough money to get him through till the reactor re-opened, or maybe he got reassigned. 

It wasn't any longer of a walk back to the Great Hall than any of the other trips to the job listings, but it very much was. It was so much longer. His head protested him skipping lunch and dinner, he tried to hold on to his thoughts, but honestly didn't try all that hard. His legs ached from a full day of walking. There was a new table set up in the main room of the Hall that hadn't been there that morning. 

“Shinra Infantry” the black tablecloth said with a well-dressed man standing behind it and two infantry persons on either side with signature three-lensed helmets. There was an assortment of pamphlets and freebies all emboldened with the Shinra Logo.

Infantry wasn't a viable option. That was ten weeks of basic training and then a four-year contract. Cloud was hoping the reactor would be up and running within three months. That's how long the Kalm reactor had been down. 

Cloud looked at the table again and decided he deserved something nice. The predatory nature of the recruiters was only matched by Cloud's unwillingness to join the modern era of technology. 

“If you give me your PHS number we can send you updates on–,” Miles (the recruiter behind the desk) said 

“I don't have one,” Cloud replied. The only one he'd had was better as paper weight now it was so old or given to him by his work.

“Then your email address,” He tried next. 

“Don't have one of those either,” Cloud replied because he didn't.

“Your address then, so we can mail you op-” Miles looked desperate 

“I don't have an official one,” Cloud replied now taking a sick amount of entertainment seeing how frustrated he could get this guy

“Are you homeless?” He finally broke.

“No I just live on Nibel Mountain,” Cloud said and Miles looked ready to vault across the table. 

“Here, this pamphlet will give you what you need to know about Infantry opportunities and the benefits for service. How can we get in touch with you?” Miles shoved a glossy pamphlet with overly happy and DiverseTM members of Shinra Infantry into his hands.

“I have a PO box at the ranger station at the base of the mountain,” Cloud replied and walked away. 

Fucking with recruitment agents was one of the small pleasures of life.

Speaking of that PO box, Cloud should get his mail.

The cabin was dark and there was no scent of cooking food. So Sephiroth was still pissed at him. 

Fine, if he wanted to act like a child, let him.

Cloud opened his mom's cookbook to a “dump and bake” as she liked to call them. He chopped vegetables and venison to dump into a pan and then cook in the oven. He put it into a skillet and covered it. That would cook for an hour on low and Cloud decided to sort through his mail while Sephiroth sulked. 

Sifting through his mail there was the normal distressing amount of bills (which was any amount of bills really) and a letter from Shinra Power and Electric.

First the bills,

Health insurance, fine normal amount.

Water purification fee, fine.

Charge for his PO Box, the normal amount.

Hunting license, renewal fee, same as last time.

The land rent. 

They fucking increased it again. The letter went on about closeness to a reactor and Shinra owning the land around it.

Fucking-

One crisis at a time

The letter from work. 

“To Cloud Strife,

We at Shinra Power and Electric regretfully inform you that your contract with us has been terminated. After the recent terrorist attack at the Nibelheim reactor the facility has decided to downsize to only necessary crew to avoid injuries in the event of future attacks. Your position is regrettably one of the roles deemed unnecessary to the reactor's functionality. We thank you for your years of service for Shinra Power and Electric and we wish you luck on future endeavors,

Department of Urban Development 

Dr. Reeve Tuesti”

Oh.

So he was fired. 

And now he really was jobless without any future money. 

Fuck.

Fuck

Cloud took several big gulps of water from the sink. 

His ribs squeezed his lungs. 

He took another couple big drinks of water.

Bastards didn't even give him the rest of the money for the hours he worked. 

Ok, this didn't actually change anything about his plans for the next few days. 

He still had to job hunt. 

He still had an upset Sephiroth above him. 

He really should go take care of that .

They slept in the same room, they had to face each other eventually. 

Cloud ate his dinner when it eventually finished cooking and made up a plate for Sephiroth. Mom had always believed that hard conversations were easier done with a full stomach. 

The door to their shared bedroom was closed with no light shining under the crack. This was going to be a long evening, wasn't it?

Cloud knocked on the door. 

“Seph, I'm home,” Cloud said, listening closely. No response.

“I'm coming in,” 

Cloud opened the door to find Sephiroth reading a book on the bed looking absolutely unbothered. Relief this didn't seem to be turning into an argument warred with the fact Sephiroth seemed to be ignoring the fight this morning that he caused. 

“I brought dinner,” Cloud lifted the plate to show it off. Sephiroth made a lazy gesture at the nightstand. 

Like Cloud was some kind of maid . 

The idea of just dropping the food onto the floor and letting Sephiroth deal with it was tempting. But that was more satisfying than practical. In the end that would just be wasting food rather than making a point. 

“So are we going to talk?” Cloud asked and sat the food down. 

“I don't see what we have to talk about,” Sephiroth said and finally sat down the book. It was some nothing fantasy story. 

“How about the argument this morning?” Cloud gritted his teeth and forced himself to be civil.

“You mean how you would rather cling to money rather than prioritize your safety?” Sephiroth glared openly. His pupils sharpened into slits that only made him more predatory than he already was when mad.

“I need money, for bills and doctor's visits, I just started taking testosterone which is really fucking expensive to get through a major supplier if you don't have insurance, which I have to pay for ,” Cloud explained trying to get it through his head.

“This world is dangerous for the enhanced, by my side is where you are safest,” Sephiroth said. Did he think that Cloud didn't know that? That he didn't live in fear that one day someone in Nibelheim will get a lucky shot at him? Of course this world was dangerous!
“Are you just going to follow me around for the rest of my life? Keep me locked in this cabin?” Cloud questioned. Sephiroth's figure came into sharp focus. His eyes intense with purpose. 

“ If it will ensure your safety then yes ,” Sephiroth looked deadly serious. There was no doubt in Cloud's mind that that was the whole and complete truth. The worst part was that Sephiroth could do that. He could do anything he wanted and there was probably very little Cloud could do to resist. Not as the weak mortal he was. 

“Seph, you can't do that,” Cloud shrunk into himself, he felt so small, a pleading child. 

“And who exactly is going to stop me? You?” Sephiroth glared and that might have been the most cutting thing said. The scorn and disbelief. “I'm done talking,”

Cloud had lived in Nibelheim his whole life, he's never left its borders, and it had always felt like a prison. One he couldn't leave either because of money or his mother or his twisted obligation. It didn't matter how hard he screamed or banged on the walls he was never getting out. The walls seemed to hug smaller and smaller, the room closing in around the edges of his vision. How had he made his prison smaller? He'd brought in his new warden willingly even. Goddess, he was stupid.

“ You're just like them,” Cloud hugged his arms tight around his body as he tried to chase off the static feeling at the tips of his fingers. Sephiroth straightened up. There was an angry question in the crease of his brow and clenched fist. 

“You don't care about me. You just want to keep me. I get why they keep me here, I'm their sacrificial goat, but why do you care? Why- why do you even want me?” Cloud gritted his teeth as each focused word beat off the closing-in, wavy feeling. Cloud was nothing, he wasn't special. Sephiroth was beautiful, strong, and focused. What did he get out of caring about him that he couldn't get off any other desperate lonely person? They already knew he wasn't the Hero that Sephiroth fought with, what was left? 

“How dare you compare me to them, those hateful small-minded fleas. They hate you, they spit upon your very existence. I will keep you safe from them. Don't speak our intentions for you in the same breath,” Sephiroth snarled, he'd risen from the bed and now stood looming over Cloud with white-hot anger. His face smoothed out and cold beside the burning fire in his eyes. 

“You don't get to own me,” Cloud said, a wash of clarity passing over him. It was so simple. 

“What?” Sephiroth's face was no less intense but seemed less homicidal. 

“I can't stop you from locking me in this cabin, but you don't get to say it's because you care. You don't do that to someone,” Cloud said, voice clear and calm. 

“What would you know about caring for someone ? ” Sephiroth said, cold and cruel.

“ More than you,” Cloud replied and knew it was true, they both knew it. Sephiroth flinched the tiniest bit, a small twitch of his face, but it was enough. 

Cloud swallowed.

“Are we going to talk like adults now?” Cloud asked, suddenly very tired. Sephiroth's palm stroked the back of his head, lithe fingers carding through his hair. 

“In the morning?” He offered, and it sounded like the best thing he'd ever said. 

“Yeah, in the morning,” Cloud agreed 

Things were better in the morning. There was no wing over him, but they had gone to sleep together. Cloud looked up at the ceiling and thought of the bills laid on the kitchen table. He hadn’t been working the amount of overtime he normally signed up for so for the past couple of months he’d been putting even less than normal into savings. He wanted to be a home now so he took less hours.

He thought of the infantry pamphlet in the stack of papers downstairs. 

They’d take him. Infantry will take anyone.
Go into the infantry, learn a trade, get a better job, keep his mother’s house . 

Sephiroth isn’t going to like this at all .

“I don’t want to argue,” Cloud started off. They sat at the kitchen table with warm drinks in their hands. Through the morning it had occurred to Cloud that he’d never even properly explained their financial situation to Sephiroth. 

“But I have 300,000 gil in savings…,” Cloud explained the ins and outs of his finances, the way his health insurance worked, and the different fees and expenses that came with living how Cloud did. Sephiroth seemed to understand based on the regular nods and occasional questions.

“And if you do not pay they will take the home?” Sephiroth concluded. Hearing it put a damning nail in the coffin of the reality of their situation. It wasn’t a surprise, but there was a difference in thinking it and hearing it said out loud. As if by saying it into the world they were jinxing it into happening.

“Yeah,” Cloud said voice horse with the reality of possibly losing his home and being left homeless in a town that hates him. Now came the hard part. 

“However, signing up for infantry also puts any Shinra-related debts on freeze, and the people who actually own Nibel Moutain are a subsidiary of Shinra. So I could buy us about 3 years and some change. I’ll get a regular paycheck I can send to you-”
“No,” Sephiroth said leaving no room for negotiation. 

 “I don’t want to argue, please,” Cloud insisted again, trying to get him to work on some sort of compromise. 

“Then don’t argue, you are not joining Shinra Military, ” Sephiroth said deathly still. If this tone was on anyone else he wouldn’t know that they were angry, but this wasn’t anyone else. 

“I don't have any other options Sephiroth I need you to be reasonable–” Cloud tried to get him to understand this really was their last option. There was no reliable way to get to other towns for work and 6 month collection was rapidly approaching. Sephiroth stood up and slammed his hand on the table loud enough to make Cloud flinch. The table creaked.

“ No ,” Sephiroth leaned forward and bore his stare right into Cloud, pinning him in his seat. 

No. He wasn’t going to be treated like this in his house. He wasn’t going to be tucked away like some captive.

“That’s not your choice!” Cloud fired back. So much for not arguing, but he had to prove he wouldn’t cower just because they’re fighting.
“He will kill you in all the ways that do not leave bodies. YOU WILL LEAVE AND NEVER COME BACK!” Sephiroth yelled . His wing snapped out with a furious flurry of feathers punctuating his sentence. 

Cloud had never heard his voice raised like this, they’d argued but honest yelling? Sephiroth already had such a force of presence in any situation they were in he never needed to yell before. It wasn’t just yelling, it was the hint of frenzied fear that tinted the anger. How could anything make Sephiroth afraid? He was the strongest single person on the planet. After the shock that Sephiroth had actually yelled at him, a familiar stubborn anger curled in his chest. Who the hell would bother killing him? In infantry he’d be a dime a dozen grunt. He was powerless everywhere else in the world, everywhere else but in this house.

“Don’t fucking yell at me! You find a way to keep us from being homeless that doesn’t involve showing your face to anyone! Tell me how you’ll do that and I’ll stay put,” Cloud yelled right back, never one to back down from a fight that he could win. 

You’re not LISTENING TO ME.  YOU WILL LEAVE AND WHATEVER HOJO DEIGNS TO RETURN WILL NO LONGER BE YOU ,” Sephiroth moved around the table to grasp Cloud’s shoulders. His eyes glowed brighter and his feathers ruffled making him look bigger than he already was. Tears welled unshed in his eyes that contrasted the frustrated anger of his words. He shook Cloud as if he could get the idea into his head if he just rattled his brain around. His grip wasn’t painful but-

“You’re scaring me,” Cloud whispered, quick and harsh like the beat of a bird's wings, too close to panicking. He wasn’t able to get out, to get away. There was no way to put any kind of distance between them so that both parties could cool off. There was the inevitable feeling of helplessness that came with being caught in Sephiroth’s strength. As soon as Cloud spoke, Sephiroth darted several paces away. He still looked afraid, but more at Cloud than Hojo or the idea of leaving. He stared at his hands like they had acted completely independent of the rest of his body. Cloud coughed out a breath then sucked in air again, more startled than actually out of breath.
“I- I apologize,” He stuttered, far from the collected figure he normally imposed. They stared at each other, not sure how to proceed. Two bitten animals unwilling to make the next move. Cloud breaks first much more used to dealing with situations like this where Sephiroth got pushy.
“ I know how to run this house, you don’t . So when I say the military is the only option right now it is , don’t yell at me to get your way again, don’t fucking grab me . I will find a way to run you out of my house,” Cloud gathered all the courage left and straightened his spine. He couldn’t just let things like this slide with Sephiroth, no matter how rattled he was. His wing tightened close against his back and he wouldn’t meet Cloud’s eyes, like a weaker animal deferring to a stronger challenger.

“You are right, I should not have yelled,” Sephiroth said in a small voice. He sounded so much like a kicked dog that Cloud felt bad when really he wasn’t the one who started this. This didn’t seem like manipulation, it didn’t have the smell of trying to be overly pathetic to make Cloud into the bad guy. He was in the right here, but he didn’t want to argue. He hated arguing. 

“You would be a good Hero, and they will make sure you become that,” Sephiroth still wouldn’t meet his eyes, but his voice was more stable than before, less shaken up. There was that word again, Hero. Once he’d considered Sephiroth as a hero, back when he believed in things like that. Here and now Sephiroth said it like damnation.

“I don’t know what you’re so afraid of if you don’t explain,” Cloud said, also more calm now. The fight drained out of each of them, finally leaving space for honesty.
“The Hero that stuck me down, he started in the infantry. Wanted to be a SOLDIER, and Hojo granted his wish in a very painful way,” Sephiroth said, he still wasn’t looking up, instead focused on the grain of the table. Oh. 

This wasn’t just about Shinra’s shitty ethics or war or whatever horrors Hojo would hypothetically turn him into. 

It was about the story beginning again. Hero vs Villain. Cloud Strife vs Sephiroth. 

“I’m nothing Seph, that won’t happen,” Cloud whispered. 

“You’re everything,” Sephiroth whispered back. 

Cloud wasn’t special.

One person's opinion didn’t change fact.

Chapter Text

There was exactly one bus in and out of the Nibel region. After a few weeks of frustrating and complicated paperwork, Cloud had signed up for Shinra infantry and was about to ship off for basic training in Junon. 2,000 gil in his pocket and a heart full of dread, he waited for the bus that would take him to the North Junon military base appropriately named Ft. Junon where he’d go through 10 weeks of hell known as basic training. 

Swallowing glass sounded more pleasant, but he loved his mother’s house more. 

While waiting at the bus station tapped everything he needed for basic: Clothes, shoes, medical documentation, inhaler, anxiety medication, testosterone gel, Nibelheim ID, and three black iridescent feathers pressed in a book. Cloud spun them in his hand admiring the hidden rainbows.

Cloud packed alone. He shoved the clothes he could afford to lose in a backpack and rifled through his medical documentation and IDs that lived under the floor boards then shoved them in to. He packed like his reluctance would do anything to the incoming crawl of the future and his deployment day. 

Sephiroth was off somewhere. Doing whatever he did when he didn’t want to face reality. Cloud envied his wings, to be free like that, to be able to take off into the sky at a moment's notice. Maybe if he wasn’t held down by gravity he could just sell the house and all its contents and move away from this backwater town with no regrets. He couldn’t though, commitments and attachments kept him tethered here. They weighed him down and kept him put where he’d been his whole life. Sephiroth came through the door and Cloud ignored him. 

He wasn’t angry anymore, the time for tempers and hostility passed when Cloud received the letter with details and a bus ticket. 

Now they grieved. 

Cloud didn’t expect to die. The war with Wutai was over and Cloud wasn’t selfless enough to throw himself into danger. Self-sacrifice was for heroes. That wasn’t the issue. That wasn’t what pulled painful strings in his heart.

They’d be alone again. After all the fighting and painful variability in the effort to communicate the need they had for each other was all in vain as they were pulled them apart.

Cloud ignored Sephiroth because the idea of staying here with him was far too tempting to be safe. If he didn't finished packing now he never would. It was like lying in bed for five more minutes then you end up running out the door without lunch. Sephiroth grabbed his wrist, not in any forceful way, but to get his attention. 

Cloud looked up and tried not to let his tears fall. With more tenderness than Cloud could bear, Sephiroth turned his wrist and finger by finger unclenched his fist. The three black feathers that were now laid in his palm were stiff and not as fragile as bird feathers should be, but they were as beautiful as ever. 

Sephiroth murmured as he pressed a kiss into the tender skin of Cloud’s wrist. “There is no noble suffering in Loneliness, but there in strength in enduring it to see better days, endure Cloud,”

Hands strong and large wiped away tears with a few slow swipes. 

Sephiroth kissed him and there was no blood or shock this time, just the static in his hands like buzzing bees and a hummingbird in his heart. 

Cloud didn’t pay any mind to the other people at the bus stop, most of them probably in the same situation as him: throwing away 3 years of their life to Shinra Infantry. He’d be gone longer than he’d known Sephiroth. Three years of trusting Sephiroth to keep his house standing. They’d gone over how to care for the old home with a fine tooth comb till Sephiroth knew how to keep the pipes from bursting in the winter and knew how to treat the floorboards for ants and termites in the summer.

The dread settled like a too-rich meal on the floor of his stomach. This would be the farthest he’d ever been outside of Nibelheim ever. Once he’d dreamed of the city. Now he wanted to stay as far away as he could. 

Cloud breathed sharply through his nose and fluffed his spiked blond hair. The other people at the station didn’t pay him any mind either. 

They all perked up at the sound of the bus arriving, a run down old thing with chipped paint. Cloud had never been on a bus, so he just copied everyone else and filled onto the vehicle. 

“Ticket” The bus driver held his hand out. Cloud fumbled in his pockets for it, producing the crumpled thing sheepishly. The bus driver huffed and quickly punched a hole in it. 

Cloud wanted to sink into the floor. 

It was a painfully awkward shuffle to find a seat and get his bag into an overhead bin. Several apologies and “excuse me” were exchanged as they all tried to get settled. Cloud knew his ears were bright red by the time he was finally sitting. Other people did the awkward shuffle dance before the engine started up again. This was happening. There was no going back from this. Panic surged at the thought of finally leaving. He wanted to get off the bus, he made a mistake, he’d find work somewhere else. 

The bus pulled out of the station.

Nibelheim grew distant.

One years later. 

Cloud Strife met Genesis Rhapsodos in anger management. 

They all sat in a circle, a warrant officer, a command sergeant, a captain, Commander Rhapsodos, and private first class E-3 Cloud. 

Everyone is going around talking about what they did to be placed in anger management.

“I punched my soldier in the face for mouthing off at me,” the command sargent said.

“I poured coffee over an intern- it was cold ,” said the warrant officer.

“I broke the hand of a middle manager,” the captain said. 

“I set a training room on fire after an argument with a bunch of Soldier seconds,” the commander said.

They all looked at Cloud, who was new to their motley crew and had significantly less metal on his lapel.

“My name is E-3 Cloud. I’m here because I told my chief warrant officer to go fuck himself, and that I thought he was a massive piece of shit,” Cloud admitted far too tired to care about the confused look that washed over the higher ranking members in the room. Normally mouthing off like that could just get someone of his rank fired, not sent to anger management. 

Cloud’s phone rang a little beeping tune.

“Hey why aren’t you in your shop fixing weapons?” the voice of an infantry soldier asked on the other end.

Cloud snapped his phone in half.

“This-” Cloud said voice void of intonation and put his phone down on the table, “This is why I’m here,” 

Several of the officers looked unto Cloud with deep empathy. 

They understood.

After a shit show of basic training in Junon, He was stationed at Fort Midgar which was the main fort outside the city and where most of the actual military stuff for Midgar happened. The Tower actually only housed SOLDIER and a couple of infantry companies for city police. 

The army then paid for him to take five months of schooling to learn how to fix guns, making him the unit armorer which was much better than grunt police work- Yay! 
Turns out that Cloud was his company’s only armorer. 

157 soldiers all with their own guns and maybe 10 brain cells between the lot of them and only one person to fix guns.

Can you see the problem?

Do you understand the issue?
Cloud did. This was Cloud’s life for the last one year, 8 months and 2 weeks give or take a few days, but who's counting? Wasn't like Cloud was personally marking down the days till he could leave the city and go back to the only person that truly cared about him or anything. 

His first time in his weapon shop had been a nightmare. He was surrounded by weapon parts, no idea how to organize the sheer amount of different parts, and no direction nor supervisor. He was just in a place with four walls. People entered his shop which was just the back of a five ton truck actually, and needed weapons fixed right away. The had less idea what to do than Cloud did.

Cloud didn’t have much experience saying no. 

Bad!

Cloud did have experience with pushy people who were more powerful than him.

Good!

So through trial by fire and the realization that for the first time in his adult life he had job security, Cloud quickly found his backbone within the army. Mostly. Kinda of.

“I need to pick up my cabinets,” Cloud huffed. Said cabinets had been delivered to the wrong fucking company and Cloud needed to go get them and needed a truck to carry them.  

The motor pool meathead scowled at him.

“We don’t have any trucks you can use,” The meathead said with several trucks behind him in clear view. 

Cloud felt his eye start to twitch.

“What about all of those?” 

The Meat head scowled at Cloud like he was any more important than Cloud was in the grand scheme of the universe just because he had something someone else wanted and could deny giving It.

“Do you even have the license to drive one of those?”
“My shop is on the back of one! I’m the armorer!”
“Why not drive that one,”
“My shop is on the back of it!” Cloud pleaded to the Nibel gods to hit this man with some intelligence. Just enough to stop him from bothering Cloud any more.

“Sorry, you can’t use any of these,” The man said. 

Deep breath in– Deep breath out.

Fine! 

He would just walk the mile down to the next company and see if they had a truck Cloud could use.

Bravo was nicer and smarter than Echo company was.

They had a truck Cloud could use.

Joy of joys. 

No fucking forklift.

“I need those cabinets on that truck,” Cloud pointed an accusatory finger at the truck that had personally wronged him by not being available at his own damn company. 

“We don’t have a forklift right now,” The soldier said
“ I know, can we get some people to get it on the truck?” Cloud said with maybe more sass than the soldier deserved. 

Shortly several soldiers all attempted to lift the cabinets onto the truck, only for them not to fit with the drawers in. 

Fucking–

They took out all the drawers, then hefted the things that actually fit now, back on the truck.

Cloud drove back to his shop. 

Thankfully Echo company has a working forklift. Cloud manages to get the cabinets off the bed of one truck and into his shop. 

Now all Cloud had to do was take the boxes of weapons parts and make an organization system from scratch to organize them all so that Cloud could actually do his Job without having to look for 20 minutes for one part. 

How do you even use a spreadsheet?
Why was this program not adding up the parts?
What the fuck are spreadsheet formulas?
Goddess, why did they give him so many parts?

“I need this recalibrated,” A soldier walked into his shop with his gun right as Cloud was in the middle of sorting parts.
“Do you have the paperwork done?” Cloud asked.
“No- just fix it”
“I need to know what’s wrong with it,”
“I need it recalibrated,”
“You really need to fill out the proper forms. They're in the folder,”
“Just fucking fix it man,”
So Cloud stopped what he was doing and recalibrated the gun and filled out the paperwork.

“The trigger is sticking, can you fix this?”
“I need you to fill out the weapon repair form”
“I can just explain it”- the soldier then spent the next 10 minutes straight talking to Cloud about why his trigger was sticking and how and for how long.

“Just– give me the gun, and fill this out”
So Cloud stopped what he was doing to fix the trigger.

“I need gun oil,”
“I fix guns,”
“yeah, so you should have gun oil,”
“I’m not the company store, I don’t really have it on hand,”
“C’mon you’re the armorer you have to have something,”
“Fine, give it here,”
So Cloud stopped what he was doing and oiled the gun. 

“I filled out a repair form- why haven't you fixed my gun?”
“Sorry, I’ve been busy with all this ,”
“I don’t really care- can I just get my gun back,”
So Cloud stopped what he was doing and fixed the gun and gave it back to the soldier. 

“Hey I need this-”
“Did you fill out the proper forms?”
“No its just the-”
“Fill out the fucking forms or get the fuck out of my shop I’m busy, ”

Cloud did not stop what he was doing.

Nearly five hours later, Cloud had a beautiful system and could find parts in seconds . Everything had its place in the spreadsheet and in the cabinets. Work flowed like butter. Cloud was plowing through repair requests like a fire through dry brush. The joy of a smoothly working system was better than heroin. This worked beautifully for two months– 

Then Chief Warrant Officer Flemming entered his shop. 

He looked upon Cloud’s cabinets. 

His eyes were filled with avarice.

“Those are really nice cabinets, I'm going need them,” the chief said. 

Anger welled in Cloud’s heart. He really should be better at dealing with shitty authority within Shinra after working in a reactor for years. 

Logic and reason must be used when faced with authority.

Logic and reason and zombie-like respectful responses. 

“No chief, I just ordered these cabinets, I need them, I have all my parts in them,” Cloud explained- hoping that the sergeant would see reason or at least just take pity.

“I'm going to need those cabinets to put humvee parts in,”
Oh.

He was an idiot.

Humvee parts were not going to fit in his cabinets.

“The Humvee parts aren’t going to fit in these, sir,”
“Well, some of the parts will,”
“Sir, I need these to store weapon parts, I have a spreadsheet and everything,”
Flemming didn’t care about the spreadsheet.

In fact, he didn’t seem to hear a fucking word Cloud said. Not any of the explanations that he needed these to make sure the soldiers were properly armed, that these were his cabinets, that it would slow down his job to get new ones. Round and round they went. 

Eventually, It devolved. 

“Chief, get the fuck out of my shop you piece of shit, and I’ll be dead and gone before you touch my fucking cabinets,” Cloud snarled with 25 years of living in Nibeheim and a year of living at Fort Midgar.

“We’ll see about that,” Flemming said and walked out.

Cloud picked up a pintle mount for a .50 caliber machine gun and threw it through a metal wall locker. 

Who needs fucking mako when you have the incompliance of Fort Midgar and 9 years of repressed anger issues. 

To go from bad to worse, Cloud’s squad leader came up to talk to him.

Robin Harlamont was a good man who was wasted in Fort Midgar.

“You should not have done what you just did,” He said, tired.

“Oh Gee, no shit, you fucking think?”

Cloud had gotten chewed out by his commanding office, but getting screamed at and called a “stupid fucking insubordinating idiot” was just par for the course in the military. Cloud let his mind glaze over only being aware enough to let out a sharp “No Sir” or “Yes Sir”.

He thought this would mean the end and getting kicked out of the army. 

A blessing and a curse. On one hand, he got to go home. On the other, his paycheck had only just started to create a nice amount of savings. 

Instead, something magical happened.

They sent him to anger management. 

Two months later: 

One year.

Anger management was more “Incompetence of Fort midgar support group” than it was anything about learning how to regulate emotions. Cloud napped during meditation on the days they did it. Commander Rhapsodos. actually did meditate for real though, which was interesting to see. A small alarm clock beeped at the group, signalling their time was over.

Cloud jumped a bit, and all of them sat up and stretched from sitting around venting about whatever broke or who got broken on base. The senior officers milled about lazily, talking about this personal fact or that work thing.

How were the kids? How was the wife? Did you see my email?

Cloud busied himself with gathering up his backpack and coat shoving it haphazardly in his bag, ready to leave. He adjusted his red scarf to hide better.  

“I’m surprised someone of such a low rank wasn’t just fired, tell me why,” Commander Rhapsodos said, to him . 

Cloud flinched hard with the surprise of a SOLDIER commander addressing him.

This was the opposite of laying low. This was directly not keeping his head down and quietly suffering the next four years. The commander was firey and loud and dramatic. Everyone's attention was held captive by him till he exited the room. 

He was looking expectant. 

“I think if they fired me they wouldn’t have anyone to fix guns for my company,” Cloud murmured. 

Rhapsodos stared down his nose and crossed his arms. 

“Don’t cower when someone speaks to you, and reply to their face not their feet,” Rhapsodos said. Cloud hunched his shoulders to his ears reflexively, like a turtle shrinking into its sturdy shell. Heat rose in his cheeks, and Cloud pointedly didn’t look up from the ground. Eye contact required effort and helped people remember him. 

Everyone either remembered his hair or his eyes, and he refused to cut his hair.

He didn't, however, have to look at people. No, letting people just think he was an awkward teenager rather than an adult was easier.

Rhapsodos rolled his eyes so hard the fact they stayed in their sockets was surprising. Any harder and they would have stayed stuck like that.

“The quality of infantrymen seems to degrade each year,” Rhapsodos sighed, popping out a hip now.

Jokes on Rhapsodos, Cloud didn’t care if he was a shitty soldier. He didn’t want promotions, he didn’t want medals.

He would take bonuses though. Money was a fantastic motivator.

Cloud made desperate eye contact with the door. Maybe if he stared enough the commander would get the message. 

“You’re really not going to look at me, I could order you to,” Rhapsodos pondered like it was a novel idea, some grand revelation of entertainment.

So, that was a no– the torment continued. Maybe he would get bored and move on. Bullies thrived on reaction and if he was boring enough they went away. That worked about 50% of the time. Hopefully this was one of those times.

Cloud kept his eyes stubbornly tied to the ground. 

Genesis sighed and stepped aside with overly dramatic flair. 

Cloud hurried out, more satisfied than he dared to let on. 

There was a week of peace before SOLDIER shoved its way into his life again. 

He’d been running his normal shifts and PT. Work was always piling up no matter how much he worked on it. His squad was fine. Huxley hated his guts but the feeling was fucking mutual. 

Blond bastard.

Jackie worried too much. He was part of a trio of stooges made up of Donnie, Jacob, and Jackie as mentioned. All three of them were fine when they were apart, but seemed to lose all brain cells when together. 

Wesker was probably Cloud’s favorite, an old man with good sense, and Robin was their CO. Robin was definitely supposed to be a higher rank than he was. 

Cloud was in his shop with his second pair of cabinets replacing the slide on a side arm pistol when trouble came knocking on his shop door. 

“Hello?” A voice called drawing out the “o” as they did. Their voice was cheery and familiar in a way that made the feeling Deja vu flare up. 

Cloud pondered the merit of just pretending like he wasn’t in the shop. It would be easier than dealing with Mx. Sunshine outside of his shop. On one hand, not having to handle all that . On the other, he was technically on the clock.

“I’m not really supposed to say this since it freaks people out, but I can smell you in there,” The voice called out again, sheepish even though acknowledging the social taboo.

If you’re not supposed to say that, then why say it anyway?

Whatever.

With a huff, Cloud got up and approached the split door that made up his shop. The top half of the door was open while the bottom stayed closed making a little window. 

“Hey!” The person smiled like the sun: too bright and made spots float in his vision.

Foam and spit froth in my mouth. Pain grew from my arm, it spread all throughout my body. My veins ached, and my joints were quickly growing more and more sore. They cracked and popped as my back arched off the table. 

Was I screaming?
Where was Zack? 

“I’m Za-” He started

“Zack Fair,” Cloud interrupted, his mouth suddenly very dry.

“Yeah!” He smiled leaning forward on the bottom half of his shop door. That smile made wasps swarm in his stomach. 

“What can I help you with, Sir,” Cloud relied on his familiar script, stock lines and premade responses. 

Safe.

Reliable.

Not his own words. 

He couldn’t trust his words right then.

Zack Fair was in off duty clothes; black cargo pants and a ribbed tank top that showed off toned arms and chest. Cloud focused on the space just next to his left boot.

“Wow, Gen was right, you could use a friend,” Zack Fair said. 

Pardon?

“Gen?” Cloud asked, squinting in confusion.

“Yeah! Commander Raps, said he met an infantryman that I might like being friends with. Well, his exact words were ‘he was like a kicked puppy so you’d get along great’, man get called a puppy once when you’re sixteen and the nickname sticks forever,” Zack Fair continued, blinding.

Cloud hunched his shoulders and took a step back into the safety of his shop.

“Do you have any weapons that need to be fixed, sir?” Cloud felt the words rise out of his mouth before they passed through his mental filter. His chest tightened like he had heartburn.

Go away, Go away, Go away .

Goaway goaway goaway goaway 

Goawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoaway

Suddenly-

Abruptly- 

“Hey,” Zack Fair murmurs. He spoke like he was holding flower petals between his lips. 

Like the first snow of winter. 

Like the first fawn of spring. 

The dust mites that shone in the rays of light that streamed into his shop became sharply clear. 

The smell of gun oil and metal focused into distinct scents from the general odor of the camp.  

His eyes were mako bright, blue sun bursting out from the pupil, but there was a ring of the brown that must have been the original color. 

Cloud saw the brown. 

“Hi there,” Zack Fair smiles like the yellow autumn moon, gentle and warm. 

“Hi,” Cloud whispers back. 

“Seemed kinda rattled, you ok?” Zack Fair had ducked and tilted his body so that even with Cloud’s head pointing down, he had no choice but to look at him. 

“A friend from before, he cooked to show his thanks. He wasn't very good, but Claudia has taught me what he didn’t,” Sephiroth nods at the open cookbook on the counter with his Mother’s notes. 

“This friend, you've mentioned him before. Who was he?” Cloud asked after chewing and swallowing the food in his mouth instead of talking with his mouth full. 

“Zack, Zack Fair,” Sephiroth said

“Y-yea, I’m ok- sorry,” Cloud stumbled through his apology, the words tripping out of his mouth, accent thicker than it had been in two years.  Did he want Zack to stick around or go far away as possible? This was his shop, he felt confident and safe here normally, but now he’d never felt more off-kilter.

“It’s all good,” Zack Fair said, that same damn smile, “wow, you hide your accent well. Took me years to learn that,” 

Wait. 

What?

“ You got an accent?” Cloud’s eyes grew wide. 

“Yeah! I’m a country boy too!” Zack Fair pointed proudly at himself. His accent was different, dropping the Rs with more naisle, whereas Cloud’s sat in the back of his throat. 

“From where?” Cloud asked. The iron ball that found itself in his stomach melted away. If it was from Zack’s natural charm, or maybe hearing a somewhat familiar way of speaking was anyone’s guess. 

“Gongaga, how about you?”

“Me? Nibelheim,” Cloud felt how stupid it sounded right as it left his mouth, but Zack Fair laughed loud and honest. 

“Give me your hand,” Zack Fair made ‘gimme’ motions while pulling out a marker. He pulled off Cloud's glove then wrote a 9 digit PHS number on his hand. 

“Call me and we can hang out!” Zack Fair grinned while turning to leave. He waved enthusiastically while walking down the hall. 

One issue. 

Cloud didn’t have a phone, but he was too busy staring at the number to remember that.

Chapter Text

It was only after getting back to the barracks that Cloud realized what a colossal idiot he was. Zack Fair’s number on his hand glared back at him the ultimate temptation and undoubtedly dangerous. This was risky . This wasn’t keeping his head down and becoming another faceless helmeted goon. He didn’t even have a phone! This was also useless to him. 

Entertaining this idea was futile. He should just wash his hands and forget about the number.

“Hey, whose number did you get?” Donnie leaned his entire weight onto Cloud’s shoulders. Huxley also had taken an interest in the commotion.

Shit!
Cloud startled hard, but only made a short jolted flinch under the weight. Donnie grinned and muttered the numbers written on Cloud’s palm while reading them. Cloud tried to twist his wrist out of the hold.

“Archie! You got your PHS on you?” Donnie hollered.

Archie was a small kid, short with dark hair highlighted by odd shocks of ginger.

“Yeah? Why…?” He spoke with a lisp that tended to attract bullies. They had to get past Jackie first, so Archie didn’t get bullied.

“Type in 1538-93– ohfuck!” Cloud quickly broke out of the hold and jammed his elbow into Donnie’s side who crumpled under the force. 

“1538-93251” Huxley finished because he liked to see suffering in the world. 

“Hey.. this is Cloud Strife.. Just wanted to make sure I got the right number… who is this again….” Archie murmured while typing. Cloud made a mad dash for the phone. His fucking squad, couldn’t find a moment of peace in this place. 

Jackie who, despite being a pilot, was unfairly good at hand to hand combat, put Cloud into a pin and literally sat on him. 

“They’re texting..” Archie announces. At this point, even Wesker, who’s generally not interested in the shenanigans of the youths of Delta, looked over. Cloud kicks the ground in frustration. Why is Jackie so damn tall? Cloud grits his teeth and tries to wiggle out of the hold to no avail. The air was thick with the mystery of who was on the other end of the mystery number.

Archie’s eyes zipped left to right over the text. He paused. Then squinted and read again. 

“Hey, this is Zack Fair?” Archie looked up with wide eyes, reading slowly. Bewildered disbelief lifted the end of his sentence into an implicit question. 

Chaos erupted. 

“Zack Fair? Zack Fair ? Zack “heart throb, biceps the size of my head” Fair? ,” Donnie grabbed Cloud’s shirt from where he was still in under Jackie. 

“How did you get his number?! You don’t talk to people!” Archie waved his PHS wildly. Huxley plucked it out of Archie’s wild arc. 

“HeythisisZackFair, I’m glad you texted, do you want to meet up after my class at 12?” Huxley read the next text. 

“Give me the PHS,” Wesker finally, mercifully, intervened. His voice was straight out of an old western, thick and sweet like molasses. His mutton chops were the envy of many. “Jackie, get off Cloud,” 

Jackie obeyed, standing up and stepping quickly out of grabbing range. 

“Here, explain to Fair what’s going on,” Wesker continued, the commotion now settled. Cloud quickly grabbed the phone and started texting hunched into himself on the nearest available bunk.

Hey, this is Cloud Strife, that was my squad mate I’m actually using his PHS.

Zack:

Oh! Okay.

Uh

Why are you using theirs?

Cloud:
I don’t have one. 

You dont?

No

Okay, I’ll get you one. 

What?

I’ll get you a PHS, so we can text.

You don’t have to do that. 

You’re right, I don’t, but I want to. 

Please don’t spend that kind of money

Oh, a PHS is like nothing to me, I have money money from merch sales. Don’t worry 🙂

Ok

I’ll visit your shop after you get off!

Ok 

Cloud let out a noise closer to the cry of a wounded animal than something that should come out of a human. The tight ball he folded himself into only helped the crushing feeling of what was to come a little.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

This wasn’t part of getting through the next two years without any issues. 

Zack Fair was famous . He was attractive and people liked him so people noticed him.  

Zack Fair was trouble. 

“Uh, you okay?” Jackie asked while making jilted motions like he wanted to provide comfort but didn’t know if he should touch Cloud. 

“You want me to make this go away?” Wesker asked cooly, unbothered like he is about most things. In another life, Wesker was probably a mob enforcer. He had the cool untouchable air to him that made people think twice about trying something.

“No,” Cloud moaned into his hands, while pressing them harder into his face. He was an adult. He would handle his own problems like an adult. 

“Hey, he gives you a hard time, then let us know. Don’t care if he’s a SOLDIER, we’ll sort it out,” Donnie grinned something between savage and friendly. 

“I won’t,” Huxley said from his bunk.

Because he was a bitch. 

“What’s Fair doing here anyway? Why isn’t he at the tower?” Archie asked, packing his brace for materia practice. 

“Rhapsodos is here as a punishment, must have tagged along,” Jacob had stealthed into the room without the rest of them noticing at some point during the conversation. He sported a human shaped bite mark on his neck. 

Jacob made bad choices with the secret police. 

This also meant he had the best gossip. Although said gossip could equally be genuine info or purposefully misdirecting.

Cloud rubbed his face. 

This was fine. 

At some point Zack would get bored and figure out that Cloud was just a grunt. He had been just a reactor worker, and now he was just a grunt. A new job, same faceless mass.  

At 6pm sharp about a week later, Zack Fair appeared in a bolt of energy with a small black box. 

Cloud kept working on a jammed magazine release to try and preserve the last moments of peace for the day. Not looking at his problems didn’t fix them, but sometimes it meant he had different problems that he hated less.

Zack Fair was undeterred. 

He oozed friendliness with open, loose body language and bright eyes. People normally clamored over themselves to even have him look at them, for an ounce of his attention.

Cloud refused to look at him head on. 

“Hey,” He leaned on the doorframe, casual and effortlessly confident. Two things that Cloud wasn’t and probably never would be. Zack Fair waved a sleek black box with the stylized shinra corp logo on it. 

His new phone to welcome Cloud into the modern era. 

Call him an old man, but Cloud was fine without a phone- prefered if even. 

He had a computer only because he couldn’t do his work without one. Phones opened up a world of complications and messiness. Technology was at its best when it was older than him.

Cloud held the box like it would explode if jostled too hard. 

Zack Fair laughed. 

“Open it!” He made “go on” motions. 

Cloud did as he was told with great reluctance and maybe a smidge of disgust. 

It was the newest model. Brand new, high tech, and expensive . 

The PHS company that shinra partnered with was Willcom and their logo popped up on the LED screen. It opened up the default apps and set up process. 

The most high tech thing Cloud had growing up was a half broken landline. Now he held a 16,000 gil PHS and kind of wanted to throw up. 

“Now you can text me! There’s a case in there for it as well,” Zack Fair says either not realizing Cloud’s discomfort or not caring. Sure enough, there was a heavy-duty black case, from the sealbox case company. There was also a scrap piece of paper with Zack Fair’s number on it again. 

He owed the guy now. 

Cloud sighed. 

“Thanks,” Cloud said, shoving the invader into the case and into his bag. That was officially the most expensive thing he owned. 

“What are you working on now?” Zack sauntered into his shop and plopped down next to him. 

“Jammed magazine release. Goddess, would it kill them to be careful with their equipment?” Cloud grumbled trying to jam a small screwdriver into the gun. He might just have to replace the whole mechanism. 

“Well, its hard to think about equipment when monsters are trying to kill you,” Zack leaned back on his palms with a boyish tilt of his head. That was a fair point, but it didn’t make the gun any less broken.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense, but then if you’re just slamming around your magazine release what happens if you can’t fucking reload your gun in combat,” Cloud huffed and shone a small flashlight into the issue area.  The initial wow factor, and panic, had worn off after sleeping.

“That’s true, and it makes more work for you, their poor armorer,” Zack said teasing. Cloud ran through several different responses trying to find a good response. He could try teasing, “poor armorer” yeah- like they ever gave a shit about his poor work load.

No, that was depressing. 

Maybe serious- yeah it does, and I work overtime without pay.

No, that was also depressing. 

“Hey, I’m just playing around, don’t think too hard,” Zack Fair josled his shoulder not hard enough to knock his work out of place but enough to get his attention. Cloud breathed in. and out. 

“Poor armorer? More like their poor ears having to get chewed out for breaking their equipment again . Maybe their CO can let me do it, gods I’d like to do it, ” Cloud maybe wanted that last part a bit too much, but Zack laughed at his words, so maybe it's ok that he dreamt about cussing out half of his company. 

Zack Fair thought he was funny. Wow, okay. 

They talked in that dusty little shop for a few hours, which made Cloud’s throat go a little funny in the back from more use than it was used to even if Zack did nearly all the talking. His work was left forgotten.

The next time Zack Fair came barreling into his life was unfortunately very public. Like- mess hall public. 

Apparently the tower had separate mess halls for SOLDIER and general infantry, but Ft Midgar didn’t have that. Officers had a lounge with a bar in it and a small nicer general store, but everyone ate in the same place. The mess hall was a loud and stank of bodies coming right off of morning formation and PT. 

Cloud hated the mess hall. He was also starving, and waiting for one of the various stalls in the base showers or dragging himself back to the barracks for the more private bathrooms with his squad both felt gods awful. 

So covered in sweat and still wheezing slightly from his asthma Cloud ate mediocre eggs and ham. The food wasn’t terrible, he’d definitely eaten worse, but it also definitely tasted mass made to feed hundreds of people. The familiar pang of homesickness spread through his thoughts. What he wouldn’t give for one of Sephiroth’s meals. 

Its fine. 

Cloud shoved more under seasoned eggs and dry ham in his mouth. Two packets of… 

Was that salt? Two packets of salt dropped next to him from the sky. 

Not the sky, but Zack Fair standing next to him. 

He smiled. That wasn’t fair.

“This spot open?” He asked, this time he was in his Soldier uniform. Cloud choked on his throat a little. Zack Fair was a soldier no doubt, his eyes alone was proof enough, but the uniform sharpened his figure to the familiar silhouette that appeared on marketing and billboards.

Suddenly, Cloud was 10 years old with too big dreams of glory and moving him and his mother out of Nibelheim. 

“I- yeah,” Cloud motioned to the spot then ducked his head and put more food in his mouth to prevent his foot from entering.  

“The salt helps, I have a whole stash of seasonings back in my room,” Zack Fair gilded himself into the chair next to Cloud at his table. 

The mess hall was a combination of round tables, row tables, and booths with rolling chairs that were amazingly proper chairs rather than stools. Cloud was situated near the back as he normally was. Eating with a lot of people was never his habit, so he tended to try and make eating as antisocial as he could. 

Except Zack Fair didn’t know that. Cloud wasn’t going to tell him. He tore open the salt packet and dumped it over his food. 

Admittedly it did make it taste less pathetic. 

“So, what are you doing for the rest of the day?” Zack Fair asked as he sat down his tray and shoved food in his mouth. His food had a few different seasonings dumped on it and a biscuit on the side as well. There was also much more of it. 

“Work,” Cloud answered shortly because- yeah, that’s all he was doing today. Work, work, read some more probably. 

“That’s it?” Zack asked after swallowing his bite. His brow furrowed like Cloud’s day was any of his business. Having someone ask after his day wasn’t normal the way it was for everyone else. It seemed nosey and invasive even though he new it was a perfectly normal question.

“Reading a book,” Cloud continued, not looking at Zack Fair. He didn’t have many hobbies before the military that wasn’t directly connected to his house. Hunting, foraging, and his other chores filled the day that wasn’t at work. That was no longer an option, but sometimes he read, so now he did a lot of that when he was off of work with little other opportunities to learn new hobbies. 

“How about you go into the city with me, it is a weekend?” 

“No,” Cloud answered immediately. 

Absolutely not. 

The City. 

No thank you. That sounded terrible and loud. Zack Fair laughed and even slapped his knee like the boys back home with more personality than body which made his homesickness worse . 

“Ok, no city, got it, how about cards at my place then, I need someone to practice poker with so I don’t lose all my cash to Angeal? I get a fancy suite all to myself as a SOLDIER First,” Zack Fair leaned into Cloud’s personal space. He smelled like fancy cologne, artificial pine and something that might be sandalwood, but under it was the sharp smell of Mako. If it was anyone other than Cloud who knew exactly what Mako smelled like, then it wouldn’t have been identifiable. 

“Cloud?” Zack Fair asked. Fuck- zoning out. 

“No. No, thank you,” Cloud didn’t need to get close to someone in the direct path of SOLDIER any more than he already was. Zack Fair blinked, head reared back a bit. 

“Oh- okay, no problem,” Zack Fair immediately waved his hands as if to physically brush away the awkwardness. Cloud continued to eat in silence next to the SOLDIER. Zack Fair however, didn’t take to silence very well.
Zack Fair had a right motor mouth. He had comments on everything, and endless stories to tell. Despite everything about Cloud, it didn’t bother him. As long as he didn’t have to contribute all the time. 

Nibelheim was a story based town. During long nights, long before Shinra or even the Goddess’ path spread through Gaia, Nibelheim passed the long winters as a town in the Great Hall with stories of heroes and giants. They’d eat smoked fish and drink watered down honey wine to get through the frost. Even now, Nibelheim continued its oral tradition with oreters telling the stories of odin and fenrir to little kids while their parents worked. On bad snow days to prevent people getting frozen into their house, the town would gather around the hearth in the Great hall till the weather got better. 

Zack would fit in well in Nibelheim. 

…

He might be a bit too friendly actually, but no one is perfect.

Cloud’s food had been finished on about the third story about Kunsel, and didn’t mind staying for more.  Zack launched into a different story. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this one, but one time Sephy was out and about with us and managed to talk a store clerk into charging him more , he was all ‘This is good craftsmanship and you need to charge much more than 70 gil,’ the look on that poor guys face was wow!” Zack ripped off the last part of this biscuit in two eating one half and handing the other to Cloud. It was light and buttery and could not have come from the mess hall. The story held every bit of Cloud’s attention the way Zack told it till one detail dawned on him. 

Sephy–

Sephiroth  

The Other One. 

It's fine, he's not a ghost, saying his name will not summon him. 

They would never cross paths, and if they did Cloud was an infantry grunt. He was so far off his radar that it was funny. 

“You okay man?” Zack was almost nose to nose with Cloud; causing him to jerk back. 

“Oh hey! Sorry- sorry, you just zoned really hard there,” Zack explained with a shrug of his shoulders. 

The General wouldn’t spare him a second glance on a good day.

“Yeah, sorry,” Cloud gathered up his tray and got up quickly. People moved out of his way, pivoting or dashing to keep from crashing into him, some swearing at him.  Behind him Zack Fair made some panicked noises as he tried to untangle himself from the table and chair. 

“Hold up!” Zack Fair called out, attracting the attention of the people in the hall.

“Was it something I said? C’mon!”
Yes, but Cloud couldn’t say that. If he was honest, then he’d have to lie about why he wants to avoid the general. A small avalanche of whispers started around them, about why Zack was in the mess hall, why he wanted to talk to this one specific trooper. Cloud ducked to hide his face. The eyes weighed on him; didn’t these people ever learn manners?     

“No, I need to go to work,” Cloud lied, work didn’t start for another hour and it was everything Zack Fair said. Just clock in early and everything could go back to normal. This didn’t have to be an issue. This didn’t have to be a thing . 

Just walk out the door. Cloud dropped his tray into the return conveyor belt. It clattered loudly against the other trays in line.

Don’t look back. 

Don’t look back. 

Don’t look back .

Zack’s arms hung limp at his sides. His entire body had deflated like a sad balloon. No, he looked confused and hurt – like a kicked dog. Cloud felt lie the one who had done the kicking.

This was a bad decision. He doesn’t need people. So what? Some SOLDIER was hurt because he was rude? He had someone more important a couple thousand miles away to worry. He promised that he would be safe. 

Ma would be disappointed in him. 

Cloud pulled out the phone given to him a few days ago and furiously typed. 

I need to go shopping later this weekend in town. Do you want to come with?

Cloud closed his eyes so hard that fuzzy patterns appeared behind his eyelids. He was blocking traffic and didn’t care. 

There was a little ding on his phone. 

Zack
Yeah! Let me know when you want to leave. 

Zack looked radiant, smiling as wide his mouth would allow. 

Cloud didn’t deserve it.

Chapter Text

Cloud got up early compared to his unit, years of his reactor job had ingrained it into his internal clock. The early rising allowed for an unfortunate amount of time to ruminate. This was a bad idea. There was so many ways this could go poorly from making a mess to saying the wrong thing. Cloud tried to fend off the idea of cancling with the voice of his ma’ calling him rude. Why was this guy so insistent on being- what? His friend? Despite everything at 6 am before the sun had even crept over the horizon, Cloud texted Zack.

Hey, I’m leaving in an hour. 

Cool! I’ll meet you at the gate. 

Cloud bundled up in his nice Nibel winter coat, one of the few things of home he’d taken with him, and waited at the check point to get in and out of the base. There might be snow later on in the season if the cold kept up like this. His mind strolled down winding paths, finding thoughts here and there along the way. Was Sephiroth going ok? Did he drip the faucets to keep the pipes from freezing at night? Was he staying warm? Cloud could imagine Sephiroth going out with absolutely no coat or proper boots, but he was alright in those temperatures generally. It was winter when they first met, wasn’t it? Colder than this though. 

“Wow is that real leather?” the chipper voice of Zack Fair broke his musings. He wore little more than a light coat, more than a jacket but much lighter than Cloud’s winter coat. Anyone else besides a SOLDIER would have been freezing. 

“Mhmm, fur lining too,” Cloud open up his coat briefly to show Zack the inner lining of fur. Cloud mostly hunted small mammals and tanned the hides or sold them. This coat had rabbit fur on the inside and elk leather on the outside. It was stupidly warm and when paired with a scarf he was set to brave any cold temperatures. 

“Must have costed a fortune,” Zack felt the fur as they walked to the exit. A quick scan of their ID cards and they walked out of the base. 

“Not really, made it myself,” Cloud said and not explaining further while they made the short walk to the Town. 

Shinra provided the bare basics of food, shelter, a initial work uniform and then a dress uniform. Anything after that infantrymen had to buy out of pocket. So things like toothbrushes, toothpaste, lounge clothes all had to be bought in Town or Midgar. 

Town was actually just a bunch of temporary stalls and tents from a caravan of traveling merchants that learned they could buy supplies in Midgar proper and sell it to troops on base for a profit. It was more expensive than going into the city, but it was much closer, and some of the merchants even took requests to go get things. The base tolerated the Town because the leader of them got several of the officers fancy cigars and chocolates. It was a symbiotic relationship for the most part when everyone held up their end of the deal.

Cloud stopped at various brightly colored tents to buy toiletries. The merchants smiled at his money and gladly gave over a tube of toothpaste and some mouthwash. She was weirdly nice with light pin straight hair and similarly pale skin. Her nose was red from the cold in a way that reminded Cloud of bright red cherries.The tension in his tightly clutched hands finally released as she focused on Zack’s wallet. He understood they needed to turn a profit to eat just like any other business but sometimes the intensity they tried to squeeze coin out of someone was intense. Cloud quickly pocketed his change and walked to the next store he needed. No quite remembering Zack was with him.

“Hey! Jeez! Where’s the fire? No need to walk so fast,” Zack threw an arm arround Cloud’s shoulders. 

Cloud flinched hard .
Immediately, Zack withdrew his arm and the weight was like a ghost on Cloud’s shoulders. It had been there, but it left phantom warmth behind. Cloud warred with himself.

Isolation, emotional and physical, was familiar, it was safe. 

But Goddess just having someone’s arm around him should not feel that good or make him crave more so badly. It wasn’t even sexual. It was just weird.

“Sorry- I uh- fuck , Never mind, I’m sorry,” Cloud waved his hands around as if trying to clear the air. He pulled his scarf up to hide his face more. 

Then the weight was back, not so abrupt, but settling like sentiment. Oddly heavy, not unlike carrying a dead animal on his back still warm from being once alive. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook ya’” Zack didn’t even look phased by Cloud’s behavior, rather just carried on like a duck through water- natural, charming even. He radiated the energy of ‘I’m not bothered so you shouldn’t be either,’, the kind of calm that made other people drop their guard as well. Cloud melted a little.

They walked together from stall to stall picking up this and that, Cloud firmly tucked under Zack’s arm and even pressed a little into his side. Zack was a hot spring of gentle heat.

Like a odd waltz Cloud led them, stopping and speeding up at his pace. Zack hummed along unbothered, happily looking at tables with objects on them but never actually buying anything. The most money he spent was when he would randomly shove gil in tip jars. There were some other people from base milling about from stall to stall. The whole place was slow for a weekend. 

Cloud bought three tubes of toothpaste, two sticks of deodorant, two small boxes of granola bars, and water purification tablets. Trusting shinra water filters was for people who had never gotten sick off mako saturated water. He’d pretty much spent his normal allowance for the week when he’d passed by a book vender. 

He shouldn’t. 

He needed to send home money for Seph. 

But all the pretty covers .

“Do you want to go in?” Zack asked following Cloud’s eyes toward the small red and gold tent that had several tables of books layed out. 

“I’ve used up my money for the week,” Cloud said, gracefully dodging the question. 

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Zack smirked. Cloud stewed in his scarf. The books had a siren call that was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. Suddenly, Cloud was being herded into the tent, the strong arm around his shoulders meant that resistance was futile. 

“My treat,” Zack said with a spark in his eyes telling Cloud to try and argue. Cloud wasn’t going to, but he’d have to find a way to make it up.

“Thanks,” Cloud hid behind the fur of his hood and the scarf. The selection of books was good, but he was looking for something particular. Books of all thicknesses, genres, and reading levels were randomly arranged on the table. That was fine, the hunt was part of the fun. Zack, loose like a cat, just followed Cloud around from section to section, sometimes reading over his shoulder. 

It took digging through a few stacks to find his prize. 

Loveless

Translation by Dr. T.J Haper. Professor at Junon University. 

Almost new as well, what a score. 

Cloud flicked through the epic poem smelling the pages. Only a few notes in the margins and a little water damage that didn’t effect the text.

“You like Loveless?” Zack asked with a healthy dose of skepticism. 

“Yeah, I’ve read three- three and a half- translations of it,” Cloud murmured, focus on the book instead of the conversation. 

“And a half?”
“I couldn’t finish Peter Bennetts translation, its bad, too full of itself and weird toward women. As far as we know, ancients don’t do arranged marriges but Bennetts was sure that there was child marriages in it,” Cloud explained,“G. Orato’s translation is my favorite,”  

Zack made a thoughtful hum. 

“Why loveless?” He asked.

“Ma’ had a copy, and used to read it to me, she’d skip over the brutal murders and sex though. I guess I just never stopped reading it, they made shitty botice rippers- you know the ones with the half naked guys on the front- based on it, and I think those are funny,” Cloud explained, still flicking through this book, tracing his fingers over the notes in the margin written in blue pen. 

Zack huffed a laugh. Muttering some kind of agreement under his breath.

“Your Ma’ huh- mine was never the book type, still isn’t,” Zack pulled out a few bills of gil and paid for the book insisting the owner, a tall black man with a lot of metal in his ears, but soft features, keep the change. 

Stashing to book in his jacket, Cloud moved them out of the tent.

“You didn’t buy anything for yourself,” Cloud said, noticing Zacks empty arms.
“Didn’t need anything,”
“Then why come out with me?”
“Because I want to spend time with you,” Zack sounded confused now, as if Cloud was the weird one here when that was a perfectly normal thing to ask. That also didn’t answer Cloud’s question in any meaningful way. 

“Um- don’t take this the wrong way, but… why, what do you get out of walking around in the cold?” 

Cloud only just heard Zack under his breath, Minerva help me . “Because I enjoy your presence, and I get to spend time with you,”
“That’s it?” Cloud furrowed his eyes. No one just hung out with him just because. They typically wanted something, him to do something, or be something. 

“Yup,” he said popping the P.

Oh. 

That had to be a lie, a nice one to maintain a polite social convention, but a lie all the same. 

They walked back to the base Zack chattering about an old mission with his former mentor or his students, a new batch of soldier thirds. 

They were firmly out of Town, but hadn’t quite made it to base yet when Zack abruptly went quiet. The space between them took on a troubled texture. 

“Hey, Cloud,” Zack asked as he removed his arm from around Cloud’s shoulders. Oh, this was serious. Cloud straighted his back from its normal slouch. There was a little raise of Zack’s eyebrows at Cloud’s new posture. Squaring his shoulders like this give him a tangible presence along with about three inches of height. 

“Yeah?”

 “Do you like men?” Zack asked, hands now shoved in his pockets, pointedly not looking at Cloud instead studying the gray winter sky. 

“Like- in general or…” Cloud’s voice trailed off, a thousand things racing through his brain at what that question could mean. 

“Romantically, sexually,” Zack took big straight leg steps in an almost silly gait that was only a little forced. It was the little things that tipped off his true feelings. He shrugged to try and hide the tension that had built in his shoulders, scuffed some dirt with his boot, and ran his hand through dark hair that was pulled into a ponytail. 

Zack was nervous . 

Nervous because of Cloud’s reaction.The world suddenly seemed tilted off its axis.

Cloud tried to find an answer but could only find static. He’d never really thought about it. 

He liked girls, his former crush on Tifa made sure of that.

A hand cups the back of his head, fingers pianist long and SOLDIER strong tangling in his choppy hair. Lips were on his. The world came back into sharp focus. The lips pulled away just for them to return stronger and with more purpose. 

“Probably,” Cloud’s voice was strained and high pitched with more than a solid dose of confusion. What kind of question was that? ‘Do you like men’ who asked that? Was it a city thing? Jacob wasn’t exactly subtle about his night time activities, but Huxley practically hissed at the mention of sex.

“Probably?” Zack repeated his answer, incredulous and far more amused than Cloud had been giving it. He still had a playful, almost boyish charm at 28. At 25, Cloud still felt like a child. 

Worlds between them. 

“I don’t know, never really gave it too much thought,” Cloud’s face went scarlet. Why would he? No one in Nibelheim would ever give him a thought romantically. Sephiroth was… 

He was something. 

He was definitely the only reason it was “probably” not “I don’t know”

“Its okay, some people never really figure it out,” Zack yanked back Cloud’s hood and ruffled his hair violently. 

“Quit it!” Cloud protested, and swatted at Zack's hand, but Zack was laughing and smiling and the world felt righted.

They walked together back to base Zack taking friendly shots at Cloud’s spikes and Cloud fending off his attacks, smiling under his scarf. 

If he forgot about Hojo and SOLDIER for a couple hours, then that was ok. 

Zack dropped him off at the gate after they scanned their IDs to get in something about having to submitting a request to stay at fort midgar. Cloud hugged his book through his jacket closer to his chest. 

It was weird to text. 

After showing his new phone to his squad mates they all put their numbers in it, even Huxley. Huxley also set up his email for him because quote: “getting email set up on a phone suck and even I wouldn’t wish that on you” 

Donnie got some apps set up, like internet videos and a music streaming service. Even letting Cloud mooch off his account. 

Suddenly Cloud had a fully functioning phone and at least one number who routinely texted him: Zack Fair. 

Hey look at this cat

[photo.png] 

Cute.

—

Hey this looks like you

[photo-Coreal.png]

Rude

—-

Minerva, i love my students but they are stupid sometimes. 

I didn’t know we did classes at the base

Nah i go back to midgar on sunday and monday to do classes with 3rds 

Didn’t know that.

Yeah anyway. Thirds are stupid because they’re all hopped up on mako and think theyre hot shit

I’m sure you weren’t like that.

Oh is that sarcasm i detect Mr. Strife?

Sorry

What? No, joking! Sorry here. 

Oh is that sarcasm i detect Mr. Strife?(joke)

Ha ha. Thank you.

Anytime, you text like an old man

I am one at heart. 

With your youthful face? No way, you’re a spring chicken all the way. 

Not true I bitch about the heat and have a crappy back during rain. 

Wait really? Your back hurts during the rain?

Yeah. Reactor work fucks up your back

Wait wait, you worked at a reactor? Like full gas mask, mako reactor

Yeah . 

Why go into the military?

Got fired after it blew up.

IT BLEW UP?

Yeah, they think it was avalanche. I got out fine. 

Why not find something in your home town?

Its a reactor town.

Which means nothing else is out there 

Hey this this his squad mate Donnie, Cloud laughed hard enough he dropped his phone so its mine now.

Hey donnie! Lets give Cloud the phone I bought for him back now.

Kk 

This is Cloud again.

Did i get you with the reactor town thing?

Yeah a little. 

Hehehe! I’m a fellow reactor town kid, i get it. Not much out there but the reactor.

Yeah

Anyway here 

[video.movie]

Owe, are they ok?

Oh yeah, thirds are like invincible at this point because the mako is super new.

Cool 

Ever think about soldier?

No .

Oh why not? 

Cloud?

Hellooo?

Message received jeez

Sorry

Sore spot

Oh okay.

Got it.

Do you mind me talking about SOLDIER?

No, I just don’t like the idea of me in SOLDIER.

Got it.

You talk a lot more over text

Is that bad or something?

No! Just an observation. 

I 

Fuck

Wesker says its probobly because I can collect my thoughts better

Yeah that makes sense. 

It dose?

Maybe this is out of line but youre not the best at talking 

That’s 

Not surprising.

I know I’m not. 

Hey, its ok

I can talk for two

I need to go to bed 

Night!

night 

Chapter Text

The next time Cloud had Zack barrel into his life he was at work. Genuinely clocked in taking repair forms. Infantry men in active combat would go out on assignments and come back with busted weapons that they would fill out a form and give to Cloud. Then Cloud would fix the issue when he got to their gun. Zack had been in the Tower for the better part of a month, but they still texted.

“Hey,” a voice that was familiar by now appeared outside his shop. Cloud paused his repair on a rifle barrel to look at the doorway of his shop. Looking all the SOLDIER he was, Zack Fair, stood in the door. His figure blocked the sun leaving the only part of Zack Cloud could see was his eyes. They glowed brightly. More than normal. Much more. 

“Hi,” Cloud said, turning his new work bench chair around. The animal part of his brain. The part that kept him alive on a mountain for his whole life wanted to grab a weapon. But this was just Zack, the same guy who talked a mile a minute and stopped to pet every cat he saw. Moving out of the light and into the shop Cloud’s attention focused onto the massive sword on his back. The Buster.

“Oh? Do you like it?” Zack hauled it off his back silently. That massive force of metal and sharpened edge moved so quietly, and cut through the air so cleanly; if that thing came flying at his neck, would he even hear it? The flat of the blade was closer enough for Cloud to see his own startled reflection in it. It was clearly well taken care of, polished and no chips in sight. A beautiful piece of blacksmithing.

“It’s cool,” Cloud admitted. In a single flowing motion Zack swung it back onto his harness. Sometimes Cloud forgot that Zack was a SOLDIER. He was friendly and a bit of a goof. The non threatening approchable attitude he carried didn’t always make the fact of his status all memorable. The way he swung around that monster of a blade like it was a short sword was a good reminder. 

Zack pulled a second stool from somewhere around the shop and sat maybe a hair too close that what would be a comfortable distance. Cloud could smell the acrid mako undertone to his sweat, there was a lot of it. 

“Why does SOLDIER make you uncomfortable?” Zack asked with his full chest unashamed. The ring of blue around his eyes nearly swallowed the brown. 

“Huh?” Cloud flinched back as he sat down the project he’d been working on. 

“I can tell that you’re nervous right now, cortisol has a really distinct smell,” Zack leaned closer, and tapped on his nose. 

“SOLDIER doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” Cloud straightened his back. 

“Then why is it every time I bring up SOLDIER you get so cagey? What did it do to you? Did you flunk the entry test?” Zack asks rapid fire. Cloud wasn’t sure he was blinking. 

“No! Sorry if I don’t like the idea of being pumped full of mako when I worked in a reactor for like- 10 years,” Cloud bit back. Anger started its gentle smolder. 

“No no no, its more than that, is it Sephiroth? Are you scared of him?” Zack’s fingers drummed some rapid fire rhythm on the workbench. Cloud shifted back. 

“I’ve never met him, I don’t know if I am or not,” Cloud lied. From that moment when Sephiroth had worn those stupid snow goggles Cloud hadn’t been afraid of him. 

If–

If his world’s Sephiroth was anything like the one at home then No, Cloud was resoundingly not afraid.

“Then what about SOLDIER scares you, and why am I different?” Zack leaned in as far as he could without falling off the stool, his breath hot against Cloud’s cheek.

SOLDIER didn’t scare him, Hojo did. Hojo made someone as strong and willful as Sephiroth bend at the knee in fear, and Cloud promised to come home the same. 

 Zack was an unanticipated complication in fulfilling that promise. A complication that made him feel so normal that it was addicting. Being like everyone else was fine, fun even, but Cloud had never been given that option. Never had the chance to be normal. Standing out meant standing alone more times than not.

Having a friend felt so good that even as he tried to pull away from Zack, Cloud somehow still stayed in his orbit. 

They were friends right?

A tight grip circled around Cloud’s wrist. 

“ Answer, ” Zack murmured, dangerous and low. 

That- 

Okay.

Cloud looked around the room for a weapon that could even stand a chance against a soldier first and came up sorely empty. 

He lived an entire year with Sephiroth, he could handle an unhinged soldier. 

“Unhand me,” Cloud narrowed his eyes to meet Zack’s frustrated scowl. The grip didn’t let up.

“Zack. Let go or we’re going to have a problem,” Cloud tugged to no result.  

“What can you do to me? ” Zack’s head tilted slightly to the left. The power difference was damn near nostalgic. 

“If you hurt me I’ll give back that phone and fill out a HR report and transfer request so fast I’ll be gone before your nose heals,” Cloud snarled. 

“My nose he–”
Cloud didn’t like violence much. He preferred to keep his head down, but as a kid, before the asthma and developed brain kicked in, the amount of fighting was bad enough that his Ma took him aside and taught him how to throw a punch properly. 

So accordingly Cloud fought like his Ma.

And Claudia Strife hunted dragons .

The fist made a clean connection with Zack Fair’s nose, a hit that would send most people stumbled back clutching their nose, but this was a Soldier first so he only was startled. It was still enough to get him to let go. In the aftermath of the hit Zack looked more dazed and confused than in pain. Cloud took the opening to dart to the other side of the room. Awareness and probably what was sense bled into his eyes in real time as he blinked rapidly. Maybe the punch knocked something right in there.

“You hit me,” Zack said halfway between awe and disbelief. 

“Y-yeah, you wouldn’t let go,” Cloud explained, heart pounding in fear he’d just made the whole situation worse. 

“A greened out soldier first has your wrist in a vice grip and your first instinct isn’t to yell for help or talk me down, no you let loose a haymaker! HA! Woo– you really are something else,” Zack looked close to falling off his stool, swaying and slurring drunkenly. 

“Greened… out?” Cloud asked heart finally trying to return to a normal rate, and a new throbbing pain started up. 

“Its what happens when adrenaline and too fresh mako mixes,” A new voice joined the scene, deep and serious. 

Angeal Hewley stood in the doorway. 

Cloud snapped into a practiced stony salute, wrist protesting wildly. 

“Name, rank, company, serial number, and commanding officer,” Hewley addressed Cloud, but was tending to a floppy Zack. They were whispering something to each other. 

“Cloud Strife, E-4, Echo company, CED-1429, Sergeant Robin Harlamont,” Cloud recited. Was he fucked? What this where they kick him out for punching one of the soldier firsts ? This wasn’t even his fault, he was just doing his job. But they would never kick out Zack and someone needed to take the fall. 

“I’ll send a formal apology to your CO, at ease trooper,” Hewley said, everything he said sounded straight out of a war movie. Cloud dropped his salute right as his brain got over how nice Hewley sounded to process what he actually said.

“I’m not in trouble?” Cloud mumbled. 

“Of course not, Zack came to you when he was supposed to report to the med bay. All you did was defend yourself,” Hewley nodded resolutely.

“Oh, and he’s going to be okay?” Cloud asked. The worry picked at his heart. Zack was doubled over breathing heavily. He was trying to say something.

“...away. Angeal you need to go ‘way. Soldier.. F-freaks him out,” Zack struggled through his thought. The difference from the honed weapon that was the same person just minutes ago created an uncanny quality to him. It also warmed Cloud a little to think even like this Zack was still trying to make him comfortable. 

Hewley raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I’m fine, sir,” If Cloud didn’t think about it, that statement was almost true. 

“He’ll be alright after some bed rest. Greening out,” Hewley pauses. “Messes with a soldier’s head. Makes everything more intense while removing any filter or inhibitions. Try to forgive him,” 

That would be easy. Cloud nods. 

It was only a little funny to watch Hewley haul up the six foot Zack over his shoulder and walk out.

After clocking out and getting back to the barracks, Jacob is the first one to see the bruise.  

“Gaia, Cloud!” he yells urgently but tenderly, taking Cloud’s wrist. He’d taken off the compression wrap he’d gotten from his first aid kit to keep his circulation good when he’d gotten back. It was a mess of purple, green, and yellow. 

“Nothing’s broken, see,” Cloud wiggled his fingers and moved his wrist to show. Going to the medic’s office just for a bruise was stupid. 

“Yeah, I’m still checking,” Jacob mother henned. They walked through making sure it wasn’t broken. Did this or that hurt, does it hurt when he pressed here, could he move this way or that.

It wasn’t.

Cloud knew what broken bones felt like. 

Jacob sighed, alway tired, and looked at Cloud.

“What happened?” 

Cloud didn’t see why it was any of his business. What Cloud did on his own time was no one else’s problem but his own. Jacob was nice, but he was a combat medic. Most of Delta was gone on assignment while Cloud worked his 9-5 fixing weapons because of his asthma. 

“Zack was ‘greened out’ and grabbed me, I don’t know,” Cloud tried to sound unbothered by the ordeal that happened earlier that day. It shouldn’t bother him, Zack was leagues below Sephiroth and Cloud had been dealing with him alone without the backup of another soldier. Jacob went still. 

“Cloud, there are reasons why Soldiers basically don’t interact with infantry at all outside of combat,” Jacob said clearly frustrated, like this was some universal understanding. He rewrapped Cloud’s wrist with it ending up much neater and uniformly snug that showed years of practice. If that was true then why was Zack talking so constantly with Cloud? Why didn’t Zack understand that rule?

Cloud grumbled silently, independence bristling. Fussing like this wasn’t necessary.  Whatever issues and or problems he got into were his to get out of. 

“The Soldier grade mako treatments aren’t as exact as Shinra wants the public to believe. Sometimes it leads to accidents, too much, too little, cut with the wrong hormone treatments or vitamins. People have died because of a Soldier losing control. There’s five in shinra history that we know about. You could have been the sixth,” Jacob holds Cloud’s wrist just firm enough to keep him from leaving. He stared steely and intense, mouth turned downward into a scowl. 

“I’ll be careful,” Cloud shrugged off the concern, shoving off his bunk to go shower. Jacob didn’t look the slightest bit convinced.

Zack:

hey

Cloud

Hi 

Can we meet? I want to apologize properly.

Apologize for what?

Being high as a kite at your work and scaring you?

Shrug. 

I don’t care

You 

Dont care

No.

You weren’t in your right mind. Im not going to fault you for that.

I should have gone to the medbay, not you

It was irresponsible of me

You are the only one who cares.

At least let me heal the bruise?

How do you know it bruised?

Im strong and wasnt 100% in control

Its not a hard guess to make

Yeah ok

If only to get my squad medic off my back.

Thank you 

Next week after work?

6pm right

Yeah

Six pm sharp Zack showed up at his shop with a mastered materia in his hand. It was set into a metal disk that hung from a chain with a tag with its serial number to catalog it when it was turned back into the matria check out desk. 

Zack’s eyes caught on his wrapped wrist. 

“It’s just bruising,” Cloud said if nothing else to try and assuage the guilt that radiated off of Zack. His expression was tight and guarded; eyes were back to their normal ratio of brown and blue. 

 “It's not just anything– I’m sorry, I won’t do something like that again,” Zack’s voice fell to a whisper by the end of the sentence. His eyes wouldn’t leave the bandage, and a fresh wave of sadness and guilt washed over him as he saw the rather bad bruise. It was healing well, but still held more purple than any other color.  

“I’m really sorry Cloud,” Zack said. Cloud on the other hand was trying his bed not to hit him. He was making a mountain out of a molehill. It was just a bruise, not broken. Everyone was acting like this was the worst thing in the world instead of an accident. Cloud lived on the side of a mountain for his entire life, the skin wasn’t even broken. 

Breathing in, a soft green glow coated Zacks palm, some bigger sparks of light fell with the green light. 

It was breathtaking. 

It was otherworldly

It was– quite literally– magical.

Matria wasn’t something he came across regularly, even in the military. He didn’t need training, it wasn’t given out as part of regulation gear, and it was expensive as hell out in Nibelheim not to mention the sale of viable matria was tightly controlled. 

Magic was just not a part of his life– until now. 

“Wow,” Cloud whispered, reaching out to touch Zack’s glowing hand. The green glow woke up something young in him. The little kid that chased fireflies in the summer and snowflakes in the winter. It almost felt like he wanted to rub off the light onto him like bioluminescent lichen. The sparks of light hit his skin and bounced off before dissipating like what a falling star must feel like.

“Have you never seen magic before?” The guilt had passed, giving room for a little bit of awe and surprise. 

“No, its beautiful,” Cloud whispered. Zack laughed a little and smoothed his glowing hand over the bruise which disappeared where his hand was leaving only unblemished skin. 

“I guess it's so normal to me, I don’t give it much thought anymore,” Zack said as the green light faded. 

“I’ve seen it on tv back home but that really doesn't do the real thing justice,” Cloud ran his hand over the now bruiseless wrist. It was just gone. Healed literally by magic like the trickster’s eyes after his wife empties out the bowl of venom. 

“We good?” Zack asked, eyes big and shoulders hunched a little.

“We’re good,” Cloud confirmed with a nod.

“Soooo, How has your day been?” Zack lounged in a sweatshirt despite it being the middle of winter. Cloud wondered if that was a Soldier thing or a Zack thing, because even in Nibelheim there were boys that wore shorts all year round. 

“Boring. I literally sit here and fix weapons or file paperwork for finished weapons all day,” Cloud shrugged. It was still leagues above reactor work. 

“C’mon you must do other things,” Zack protested looking around the shop for said other things.

“I’ll clean weapons for cash if it's a slow day and I have the time,” Cloud rested his chin on his knee flexing his healed wrist. He wasn’t the most interesting person in the world in his day to day life. Cloud studied Zack, wild dark hair accented his tanned skin, that was a little on the pale side probably from the winter. A beauty mark sat just below his left eye that reminded Cloud of old movie stars. He was pretty, there was no denying that. Zack had his pick of people on base to be friends with, so why Cloud. I couldn’t just be because the commander said they’d get along, Cloud really fucking hopped it wasn’t out of pity. 

Was– did Zack– with him?  

“Hey Zack,” Cloud started scratching at the peeling paint of the shitty paint of the bed of the truck.

“Hm?” Zack hummed in acknowledgment 

“Why did you ask if I liked men?” Cloud turned his head to look at Zack and press his check into his knee now. Zack started and choked on his spit. Why was he freaking out? He's the one who asked the question first. 

“I- um-” Zack scratches his head looking around trying to find something else to look at. He looked small , not in stature, but presence. It felt wrong on someone who not only normally had no issue taking up space but relished being the loudest one in the room. Cloud tilted his head but said nothing 

“People in the city get weird about being into guys when you’re a guy, and sometimes you see it in small towns and definitely on bases. I just wanted to see where you were on that,” Zack fell to a whisper by the end. 

Cloud definitely didn’t have an issue with who other people chose to pair with, in nibelheim it was more a when than who. Sex during the winter meant spring babies which was a much safer time to deliver. Pairing with a guy as a guy didn’t risk that so it was a non issue. Why did people have an issue with that? 

“Do you like guys?” Cloud asked, was Zack the one who has issues?
“Like 65% percent of the time?” Zack made back and forth motions with his hand while scrunching half of his face. 

“Exactly 65% percent?” Cloud found the bravery to tease. He was in his shop, it came easier there. 

“Give or take depending on if he's nice to me,” Zack leaned back on his hands and kicked his feet from where they dangled off the bed of the truck. It was like watching a flower unfurl. 

“Being nice is all it takes?” Cloud asks playfully.

“Are you calling me easy, Private Strife?” Zack grins. 

It was going so well, then Cloud didn't know how to react to that. If he said yes then would that be insulting, but if he said no– would that be right? That would definitely kill the banter. 

“You’re seriously overthinking again,” Zack playfully knocked Cloud’s shoulder with his own. Cloud awkwardly laughed back while Zack ruffled his hair. The sensation of his hand in his hair wasn’t unwelcome as it was an odd feeling, to have someone's hand in his hair like that. It was quickly becoming Zack’s preferred method of messing with Cloud.  

This time Cloud just let it happen.

“Hey, I'm holding an end of year bonfire at the end of the year. I got permission from base to burn some dead trees. You should come,” Zack looked hopeful.

A social event.  Like an actual party. Cloud had ever gone to one of those. The Strife wasn’t exactly welcome at Yule or New Year celebrations.  

“I wouldn’t know how to act. I’ve never been to one,” Cloud admits.

“A bon fire? All you do it stand around and talk and cook food on a stick,”

“No like, social stuff,” Cloud felt himself wanting to get smaller. He was 25 damn it. he shouldn’t be this embarrassed.

“Like– ever?” Zack’s eyes widened.

“Mom died when I was a teenager, and then I was working full time at the reactor,” Cloud explained. The sky was a dreary winter gray, fitting. 

“Well there’s a first time for everything, don’t worry you can stick by me,” Zack smiled and Cloud wished he had that kind of confidence in himself about this idea.

Chapter Text

It was a couple weeks before the bonfire and Zack had been called back to Midgar, so Cloud’s life returned back to relative normalcy. 

Relative. 

Cloud was gauging weapons for the end of year inspection. It wasn’t his favorite part of his job but it had to be done. To add insult to injury the heater in his shop was out.

“Hey, Cloud Strife, you in here,” An unfamiliar voice called out. 

Cloud could just not answer. 

“Hellooo,” The voice asked again. 

Cloud finally hauled himself off the floor with a huff.
“Have you filled out the weapon damage form?” Cloud asked automatically, because even almost two years into this job he still had to ask that. 

“Uh- I'm not here for that,” he asked. ‘He’ was a tall muscular man with sandy blond hair.

“Then why are you here?” Cloud asked with the biggest side eye he could. The man flashed a smile and fidgeted a little where he was standing. 

“So, I'm taking the SOLDIER exam next March and was wondering if you could introduce me to Zack Fair?” He sounded sheepish and was holding his hands palm to palm in a ‘please’ position. 

Huh?
“Do I know you?” Cloud asked, skepticism clear in his voice. His breath fogged in front of him from the cold. Cloud had no clue who this guy was, and why he thinks Cloud would introduce him to Zack. 

“Archer, we went through basic training together?” Archer said, clearly hoping it would trigger some memory. 

It did not. 

Cloud remembered basic training. It was 10 weeks of homesickness, bullying, and asthma attacks from the physical training. He couldn’t remember one possible good memory besides 2 weeks of leave at home before he was shipped off to Ft. Midgar. There was definitely no friend named Archer. 

“Uh- we aren’t friends,” Cloud finally just said. 

“C’mon, we don’t have to be, but knowing a Soldier first would be awesome for my chances at making it in,” Archer talked with his whole body, moving like he was exasperated with the situation and Cloud was being the weird one here. 

“So you want to use me to get to Zack, and then use Zack to get into SOLDIER,” Cloud put the pieces together in real time. Part of Cloud wanted to be surprised and horrified, but in reality this was par for the course for people looking to climb the corporate ladder. It was all who someone knew and how you could use them. The surprising part was that it was happening to Cloud . Sure, he understood Zack was famous, but it never really occurred to him that people would notice Cloud as a result. Zack’s light should have shined bright enough that Cloud would have been hidden in the shadow. 

“That’s a pessimistic way to put it,” Archer furrowed his eyebrows.

“Unless you have a weapon you need fixed, get out of my shop,” Cloud finally snapped. This was his shop, let the wannabe get mad all he wanted.

“But-” Archer started.

“ Out ” Cloud insisted.

Archer grumbles and glares as he turns to walk away.

“Bitch,” he hissed under his breath walking out of his shop. 

No one gave Cloud any more trouble for a couple of weeks. Zack was still at the Tower for the foreseeable future despite how much he belly ached over text. 

Ugggghhhh I can't get the long term transfer forms signed

Why not?

Lazard keeps ‘losing’ them which is just corporate for ‘I don't want to sign these but i don't have an official reason not to’ 

Flat-out saying no means that I could file for an appeal which is different paperwork that needs more of a concrete reason and also gets run through Sephiroth as well.

Lazard just ‘losing’ it means that its stuck in paperwork limbo.

exactly! 

maybe its better you don't transfer

why not???

don't you have responsibilities in midgar? 

work and stuff

nothing that cant be done remotely

But what about publicity things?

Then i take the hour train ride into the city for it

 Oh. 

Yeah

I don’t think you should move because of me

Why not?

You met me

Hold on

Three months ago.

So?

That’s a big step for someone you’ve known for three months

Almost four months now

But its not that big of a step 

Transferring between Midgar and the base is easy 

Apparently not 

:( yeah

Lazard wants the Soldiers at the tower a lot for some reason 

Its fine Zack

Clouuud 

We can still text 

Yeah

It sweet

That you’d try and transfer to base for me

I like you 

Why wouldn’t i

Its just a lot is all 

Ok, I got a class 

See you later

Bye 

A person slid energetically into the seat next to Cloud grinning from ear to ear. 

“So you’re Commander Fair’s trooper,” She said grinning with worrying mischief in her mouth. When did he become ‘Commander Fair’s trooper’? He wasn’t anyone's anything. He didn’t belong to anyone other than arguably Shinra till his contract was up.

Cloud looked at her weirdly. 

“Can you do me a solid?” She placed a brown paper bag of something in front of him, it smelled strongly of baked goods. Cloud’s nose was right on the money as raisin bread sat inside smelling sweet. It was fresh . 

The food in the mess hall wasn’t what Cloud would judge as good. Fresh food of any sort was a powerful trading item.

“That is genuine raisin bread from the cosmos region, best in the land, only a week old,” She grins leaned into Cloud's space. Her voice and presence is wasted in Shinra, she’d be a good hawker— or scam artist.

“Who are you and what do you want,” Cloud eyed the bread with suspension. 

“Name’s Lonnie, I need you to sign off on a Jeep,” She grins with perfectly white straight teeth. 

“Get your CO to sign off on it,” Cloud leaned away as far as he could without being obvious. 

She clicked her tongue into an “ah” sound of performative disappointment. 

“I did that, but he’s an asshole about rules, you know how it is-” Cloud didn’t  “but if you sign off on it as armorer, it’ll be fine,” She finished. 

Cloud furrowed his eyebrows. 

it wouldn’t be fine. He'd get his ass chewed out by Robin.

“I’d get in trouble,” Cloud said simply. Maybe this person was stupid enough not to realize that.

“Just get Zack to bail you out,” Lonnie said, like it was some miraculous point that would fix everything. It wasn’t. That was stupid. 

For one, even if other people were alright with using Zack, he wasn’t. 

For two, Zack was too good of a person to use his rank like that. Cloud wasn’t important enough for that amount of paperwork and favors needed to get stolen vehicle and insubordination charges dropped.  

This was the second time someone had tried to use his relationship with Zack, and he didn’t like the pattern that was forming. Zack wasn’t just a tool to be used; frankly neither was Cloud. 

He deserved sincerity from people. 

Basic respect .

Whatever, these people’s opinions of him shouldn’t matter. 

“No,” Cloud said and pushed the bread away.

“No?” Lonnie said in disbelief. “C’mon,”

She huffed and leaned her weight on her forearms with a frustrated look. She acted like Cloud was ruining her night. 

He probably was, but that wasn’t his issue. Maybe she shouldn’t use people like tools to get what she wanted. 

She was talking about something, probably trying to get him to agree, but years of living in Nibelheim made tuning people’s bullshit out very easy. Let her blow out all the hot air she needed till she went awa–

There was something cold and mushy on his head– a bit lumpy. Cloud’s hand shook as he reached up slowly and touched whatever was slopped on his head. It smelled bland and only vaguely of potatoes.

The little plastic container they were served in fell to the ground. 

Lonnie had dropped his food over his head. That was fucking grade school level bullying. 

“Goddess, fuck- I didn’t– I should have gone and calmed down– if you had just listened to me–” Lonnie sputtered pathetic apologies and excuses.

The acidic smell of tomato.

Wet chunks falling down 

Disgusting humiliation 

Fucking– 

Cloud’s fists clenched till the bite of his fingernails burned. His knuckle went stark white. 

Breath in–

Breath out– 

Let the anger flow beyond the body. 

Lonnie was still talking. People were looking .

Cloud slammed his fist into his leg to get the stupid things moving, but it was like he was pinned to the spot by the eyes of everyone around. This was stupid. This was stupid . Emotions swirled and compounded and circled till he couldn’t think of anything else but the cold potatoes that went splat onto his shoulder. They seeped into his uniform making it wet. 

“Hey, you BITCH,” the familiar screech of Huxley startled Cloud. It was like a hot knife through his thick emotions.

Huxley was yelling something at Lonnie who was futilely trying to get him to back down. 

“And if you ever come near my squad mate again, I will personally show you why Heidegger threw me in jail!” Huxley snarled with the strength of a dragon. Lonnie had finally decided the situation wasn’t worth her time and or effort and slinked off.

“Hey, Hey Blondie, Gaia to space cadet,” Huxley hit Cloud’s shoulder which knocked away the last chill that had settled over his mind.

“Huxley what–?” Cloud started but didn’t get an answer as he was dragged to the showers. He tried to protest or at least feel his fingers, but that didn’t stop the charge through the halls. If Cloud was still dazed before the water was splashed over his head then he certainly wasn’t after. 

“Gods Huxley!” Cloud jerked, but Huxley just grabbed the back of his neck and shoved him under the running water.

But it wasn’t cold.

Warm soothing water ran over his head washing away the disappointing food along with a healthy amount of built-up shame. Cloud finally caught on and scrubbed at his hair to get out the rest. His hands tingled and thawed out of the strange iceyness that had numbed them in the first place. The water over his head and across his face left warmth as it flowed. Cloud moved his head from out under the spicket and a towel was tossed over him. 

“Thanks,” Cloud whispered, hiding his face under the towel. Huxley grunted rather than speak. 

“Don’t you hate my guts?” Cloud asked, sneaking a look at his squad mate.

“Kinda, but there are things more important than my opinion,” Huxley huffed. 

“Thanks,” Cloud said again for lack of what to say to that. 

Zack’s orbit continued to affect Cloud in ways that were getting irritating. Even more so than normal. 

Cloud didn’t go out socializing. 

he didn’t go out a lot– he didn’t go out at all. Full Stop.

Until today.  

Jackie invited Cloud out with some pilot buddies for a drink in the Town.  Drinks in the town were actually an outdoor bench area with lights and heaters that sold homemade mead that made Cloud painfully homesick. It was so close to the stuff in the Great hall, but wasn’t quite there, but something was better than nothing. 

Cloud was on his third mug when a Soldier Second with his helmet still on slid into the chair across from his. 

“Hey,” He said, smiling. Cloud just looked up from his new Loveless translation that he was almost done with in place of talking. The helmet hid any chance of reading his facial expressions which made Cloud itch. 

There was something there about the souls being the windows to the soul and this guy hiding his. 

“You’re Cloud right? Zack’s friend?” He said. His voice was light and friendly with only a slight accent that placed him from outside Midgar. Cloud being, once again, defined by his relation to Zack made him slouch in his seat. He tensed for another unpleasant conversation. Lonnie and Archer were two examples of a pattern that repeated itself every few days. They ranged from someone wanting Zack’s autograph to full on nepotism like Archer. Somehow Cloud had gotten a twisted form of fame as “Zack’s trooper,” which was demeaning for a 25 year old man.

But, there was a small part, small and injured and sad part of him that secretly liked being Zack’s trooper. He hadn’t belonged to anyone in years. He wasn’t anyone's partner, he wasn’t anyone's son anymore, he was maybe Delta’s squadmate but he didn’t go on missions with them. The best he got was being Nibelheim’s Strife, and that wasn’t– 

Well–

Whatever. 

It wasn’t so bad to be Zack’s trooper, his friend , but Cloud would die before admitting that out loud or even to himself too strongly. 

“I guess,” Cloud answered quietly, not really sure how to respond to that question anymore. 

“I’m Kunsel, I’m also Zack’s friend, we went through Soldier together, but he got promoted to first and I didn’t,” Kunsel explained. It was a good sign that he wasn’t being too insistent about the relationship. Still didn’t explain why Kunsel was talking to him . Even if they were both Zack’s friends that didn’t mean they had to be friends. Cloud waited for him to keep talking. Kunsel seemed to be doing the same. 

Kunsel sighed, “I’m just here to make sure you’re not a gold digger, Cloud Strife of Nibelheim, recently fired from the Nibelheim reactor, with a 3,000 gil land payment put on hold during military service,” 

Cloud’s heart kicked into third gear. How did he know that? That was a part of military files but how did a Soldier second get his hands on that? 

What else did he know?

The skeletons in his closet start to shake.

“So, why exactly is a random infantry trooper suddenly friends with him?” Kunsel was abruptly no longer the happy go lucky guy that had sat across from him. This was someone who was a part of the strongest people on the planet. 

Cloud’s mind raced. Why did Zack approach him? Why did he appear in the doorway of his shop? It wasn’t a mystery as to why they were friends now. They came from similar backgrounds and Zack found his dry sense of humor funny. 

“The longer you’re quiet, the guiltier you seem,” Kunsel whispered and the low light of the bar gleamed off his helmet. He tried not to imagine it breaking his nose.

Anything Cloud said about Zack just liking him wouldn’t be enough. He needed something he could prove .

Yeah! Commander Raps, said he met an infantryman that I might like being friends with. Well, his exact words were ‘he was like a kicked puppy so you’d get along great’,

“I think I pissed off Commander Rapsodos in anger management so he sent Zack to annoy me,” Cloud blurted out like bees leaving a hive, then downed the rest of his mead.  

Kunsel paused, stunned still. Then he busted out laughing.
That was good, right?

“Alright, unclench, I believe you,” Kunsel said, and Cloud was absolutely sure he was going to follow up on that claim. Cloud did relax a little now that Kunsel was back to smiling. He also wanted another drink.

The barmaid brought him another mug of blackberry mead that tasted sweet with a solid bite.

“Isn’t that like your fourth mug?” Jackie, whose words were only a little slurred, said and took the seat next to Kunsel’s. 

“Mhmm,” Cloud replied. Kunsel looked between Cloud and his mug and then back to Cloud. 

“You are definitely not drunk, and you’re what– 5’8?” Kunsel’s face didn’t change much other than his mouth tightening a little bit. Was he sceptical? Was he impressed? Damn helmet, can’t tell anything. 

Cloud wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to that. So what if he wasn’t drunk, why did that matter? He wanted to go back to his book. 

“It's just impressive is all,” Jackie put a hand on his hip.

Was it? The mead there was good, but it tasted a little watered down compared to the stuff brewed back home. Cloud took another drink and shrugged. 

“Is he always this quiet?” Kunsel asked Jackie like Cloud wasn’t even in the room. In all fairness it wasn’t like Cloud would have answered, but still. 

“Unless he’s in his shop, pushed beyond his tipping point, or you’ve made the mistake of being incorrect about something he knows a lot about in his presence,” Jackie chuckled after he finished and Cloud couldn’t even be mad because he was right. 

Kunsel knocked Jackie’s arm.

“Wanna help me hustle people at cards?” He said, jerking his head at the circle of players that had a pool of money in the middle. 

 “I think this is the start of something beautiful,” Jackie grinned while throwing an arm around Kunsel’s shoulder. Both of them waved goodbye to Cloud, who threw a little wave back, then happily went back to his book. 

Actually.

Cloud snapped a photo of Kunsel and Jackie and sent it to Zack. 

[photo.png]

I think your friend and my squad mate are going to clean everyone of their gil in that circle. 

Oh hey Kunsel what was he doing at the base???

I don’t know, he sat with me for a bit and then decided to go play cards. 

He didnt say anything right

He can be intense sometimes 

Wait are you at a bar?

nah Kunsel was fine 

He’s a good friend to you. 

also yes.

aweee

yeah :)

also make sure to eat food and drink water

yeah yeah, it’s fine they water the mead down here 

still 

Ive been told hangovers are no fun

you've been told? never had one yourself?

nope, mako gets rid of your ability to get drunk and I was in SOLDIER before i could legally drink. 

Cloud didn’t say how sad that actually was.

He had about twenty minutes of blissful solitude before someone placed a crystal glass of something strong smelling and brown. Probably whiskey.

“Hi,” A low gentle voice belonging to a man with dark hair sliced back with gel and a woodsy smelling cologne. 

Cloud blinked at him.

“My name’s Tidus,” he- Tidus –said, sitting down across from Cloud.

Was just going up to people you don’t know a city thing? Okay this time he was in a bar, but his point still stood. This was happening way more than it had in his entire life.

Tidus looked expectant at Cloud like he was missing his cue in a play. 

“Cloud,” and didn’t offer up more. 

“Cloud, how fitting,” Tidus chuckled and then ran his finger around the rim of his own glass. 

Fitting? 

Cloud put his bookmark in the current page and picked up his mug for a drink.

“Well, because of your eyes. Blue like the sky, they’re beautiful,” Tidus smiled motioned at Cloud’s face lazily.

Huh ?

Cloud furrowed his eyebrows and sat up a bit. 

“Oh C’mon, surely someone has told you that,” Tidus took a drink from his glass. He held it from the rim instead of the glass.

This guy definitely wanted something from him.

“Not really,” Cloud hesitantly said. He was absolutely not touching the tumbler of alcohol this guy must have bought for him. 

“Well that’s a crime. They really are gorgeous,” Tidus finished his glass with a smooth swallow not even flinching. 

Was Cloud supposed to thank him? There had to be an end goal here that Cloud wasn’t getting. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

“So what do you do for work, Cloud?” Tibus spoke low under the passive noise or the bar. Cloud strained to hear him.

“I fix guns,” Cloud said simply. There really wasn’t more to what he did. 

“That’s… all?” Tidus’ suave act slipped a little for genuine confusion at the short answer. 

“Pretty much,” Cloud replied and finished the last of his mead. It finally made his head a little fuzzy. Drunkenness was not a habit, but it did feel nice sometimes. 

“Then what do you do outside of work?” Tidus tried again.

“Read,” Cloud answered with a shrug while holding up his book. Tidus perked up.

 “Loveless, are you a romantic Cloud?” Tidus sounded like he was trying to be teasing, but it just came out a little insulting. Not enough to actually get Cloud to do anything about it. 

“Not really, I just like it,” 

Truthfully, there was a lot he liked about loveless, but Tidus didn’t seem the sort to actually pay attention to what Cloud was saying and instead just wait till it was his turn to talk. No need to waste words on ears that didn’t care. Tidus heaved a sigh, letting his head hang. Was he finally done with whatever this was? It was getting old. 

“Can I be frank?” Tidus asked, dropping the fakeness. 

Cloud almost made a terrible joke. He nodded instead, proud of his self control.

“I want to take this somewhere more private , somewhere with a bed and then maybe we can both have a good time,” Tidus all but purred. 

He was also touching Cloud.

Cloud would like him to not be touching him. It was foreign and too light and communicated implications and expectations. His fingers were rough but his nails were well kept and this wasn’t Seph or Zack or his squad mates who he knew and trusted. 

Cloud pulled his hand into his lap, trying to rub away the ghost of the touch.

“I mean, If you’re good enough in bed to get Zack Fair to pay attention to you, then I thought I could shoot my shot. I’m sure he doesn’t mind sharing,” Tidus spoke far too casually. 
There was so much to unpack in that statement that Cloud’s stomach rolled with it. He couldn’t decide what to be angry about first. 

Good in bed? 

Getting Zack to pay attention to him?

Sharing?

Blood rang in his ears. It drowned out any other voices making them muffled and warped as the edges of his vision blurred. 

He should have known better. 

Before he was a son, he was a daughter. 

Someone was saying his name. 

Kunsel.

“Cloud, you okay man?” He said, voice washing over him now clear and crisp. 

“I- yeah– no.” Cloud choked out through the ringing. 

“Do you want to get some air?” Kunsel asked. He spoke the same way someone handled a bomb. 

Air– no. Cloud didn't want to get air. 

Tidus sat in the same spot, but now wide eyed and clearly shaken. 

Cloud looked at the glass of alcohol that Tidus had bought for him. It glared at him in its crystal glass that was on closer inspection chipped and scratched. 

In one quick motion, Tidus was now soaked in the whiskey. He wildly swiped at his face and sputtered. He cursed himself blue as he called Cloud every foul thing in the book.

“That’s what I think about sharing ,” Cloud bit out venomously. 

Chapter Text

Cloud showered the moment he got back to base. Even though he wasn’t the one that got covered in alcohol it still felt like something was stuck to his skin. The soap was familiar and unscented which helped with the raw feeling in his body. The chilled water slowly warmed up as he washed himself. 

He needed to scrub that guy's eyes off of him. He– 

He wanted Sephiroth. 

He wanted Sephiroth with his big wing and rumbling voice to promise him that no one would look at him like that again. Sephiroth would look at him and see everything that no one else did. But he was miles away.  

Cloud hoped Jackie and Kunsel couldn’t hear him cry. 

The water was hot enough to scald now, and only after the third scrub down with soap did Cloud feel clean enough to dry off and put clothes on. 

“What the hell happened Cloud,” Jackie immediately launched into damage assessment. Cloud wincing was enough to get him to slow down. 

Kunsel sat silently off to the side. Cloud was grateful. 

“Ok, how about this. How do we help?” Jackie pivoted and reoriented his approach. He guided Cloud to sit on the edge of his bunk.  

“Don’t tell Zack,” Was the first thing out of Cloud’s mouth. For some reason that was the most important thing in his head. 

Don’t tell Zack that people were trying to use him through Cloud.

Don’t tell Zack that people thought Cloud was the type to abuse his relationship with a commander.

Don’t tell Zack that people thought they were sleeping together. 

“Yeah, ok, anything else?” Jackie nodded and placed some tea in Cloud’s hands from his personal stash.

Dumb apple blossom, banora signature.

Right, Jackie was banoran. 

It was overly sweet.

Kunsel continued not to say anything. 

The clock read 23:11.

Gods.

“I have work tomorrow,” Cloud moaned into his hands. The tea was placed on the ground.

“No you don’t,” A new voice entered the mix. 

Robin. 

“What?” Cloud whispered through his fingers.

“Second Lieutenant Moscinski told me about the situation,” Robin said simply. Cloud gave Kunsel an exhausted and betrayed look. 

“Staff Sergeant, sir, I’m fine. Really, just took me off guard,” Cloud breathed hard through his mouth. 

“No you’re not. You’re off duty tomorrow,” Robin said and Cloud couldn’t really argue. A large grounding hand settled itself in Cloud’s shoulder. 

“Thanks,” Cloud whispered. 

Kunsel doesn't say anything. 

The next day was better. 

Cloud slept till noon which was weird, but no hangover which was better. There was a water bottle on his bedside which he drank. Probably from Jackie. 

The night of sleep had done his nerves wonders as he slowly woke up and dressed in his light uniform with a regulation Shinra branded hoodie over it. 

“Man I don’t understand how you wear shit like that with how cold it is outside. Garbage weather,” Jacob said shivering, shedding his scarf and coat after he entered the barracks. 

“I’m a mountain boy,” Cloud replied, digging under his bed for his stash of snacks in lieu of breakfast in the mess hall. 

 “Being born in a mountain doesn't make you immune to frostbite,” Jacobs quipped, then paused. 

Heard you had a rough night last night,” Jacob continued, grabbing a smaller bag out of his larger shoulder one. He spared Cloud the embarrassment of eye contact.

Gossip in Shinra, nothing travels faster.

“So I got the mail early,” Jacobs finished handing Cloud several letters and a medium sized box. 

“How?” Cloud stroked his thumb over the return address then the base address that was written in mechanically neat script.

“Got friends in the mail room, did me a favor as long as I’m quiet about it and you don’t talk to people so…” Jacobs trailed off. 

“Thanks,” Cloud replied, his own voice sounded distant to his ears. 

Then Jacob was off– doing whatever Jacobs did.

The envelope smelled of pine.

To Cloud,

The house stands strong despite the weather. The mountain rages against my efforts to keep the porch clean of snow. I’ve become proficient in removing snow from the roof as well.

The bills have been paid automatically without any needed intervention from me. The money you have sent home has been more than sufficient for my needs and I hope this encourages you to reserve more for yourself. 

I wish to renovate the older walls of the house and the kitchen. I understand what this house means to you and desire permission first.  

enclosed In the package is a scarf I have made with my new skills with fiber arts and a tin of 28 shortbread cookies that you enjoyed last time. 

I find myself with limited activities to occupy myself while at home as chores are menial activities, but there has been an interesting development in my relationship with Nibelheim. I think they believe me to be some benevolent mountain Spirit after I killed a monster that made it into town. Its death was swift.

I hope you are faring better than I have been these last few months. The house is quiet without you.

Stay safe. 

With care,

Your Valkyrie 

Cloud laughed as he read the perhaps overly serious, report-like letter in the familiar almost typewriter-like script, it would nearly be perfect if it wasn’t for the way he did his Ts and Es.. The papers smelled like deep forest. The stamp had a small picture of Rufus shinra. Only letters with Shinra brand stamps could be delivered to bases.

Cloud stroked his thumb over the words  “Your Valkyrie”

They couldn’t have Sephiroth sign his own name because the mail room went through any incoming or outgoing mail so they needed some code word, so Sephiroth’s nickname or “Valkyrie” was born.   

Cloud grabbed the box and as mentioned a multi-colored scarf with neat uniform stitches laid inside with a small tin made of thin metal. Inside were layers of small circular shortbread cookies. Cloud shoved one of the cookies in his mouth, it was buttery and only slightly sweet, not too much. Next, he pressed the scarf to his nose. It smelled like Sephiroth which was indescribable as anyone's natural scent was, but there was the distinct smell of his shampoo. His heart clenched as he sat there inhaling the smell before it would fade in a few weeks. 

Cloud sat in his heartache and imagined himself going home and being enveloped in that scent. Lastly, a small black feather was tucked within the envelope, like there had been in every other letter Seph had sent. 

Cloud set down the gifts and dug around under his bed for his own supplies. He placed the feather in his copy of G. Orato’s translation of loveless which was annotated and had several colored markers sticking out the side. Then he pulled out his paper and mail supplies. 

To my Valkyrie, 

If you put a tarp over the porch you can just take it off and the porch will be clear, should be down in the basement. You can renovate all you’d like, but just keep the old wood somewhere. As I’ve been away from the house, it's a little weird that I’m not so protective of it anymore.  I’m glad the money has been getting to you fine, and don’t worry about me. I don’t need to pay for much here and would rather it be put into savings. 

Thank you for the scarf and cookies. The food here is still gods awful and the cold is nothing like a mountain winter but its still biting. I’m surprised you like knitting, but based on how much you meditate I guess its not too surprising. 

I’m sorry they think you’re a mountain spirit? They saw you? Is everything okay?

I’m pretty homesick but that's nothing new. I miss home, I miss you. 

I know you said to stay away from SOLDIER, but I’ve somehow become friends with Zack Fair. 

He’s nice and pretty insistent about getting to know me. I wish I could say more, but I don’t want this to be censored.

I'm sorry. 

I also met Genesis Rapsados briefly when they sent me to anger management. oh, they sent me to anger management for snapping at a superior officer.  I swear, the people here. 

Anyway. 

Two more years and then I’m home. 

 Happy Yule and New Year

With care,

Your Cloud 

With that final signature, Cloud sealed the letter and the majority of his most recent paycheck inside the envelope. 

One short trip to the post office and in a few weeks the letter would arrive at the ranger station for pickup. 

Cloud’s breath fogged up in front of him as he started out at the base.

Two more years.  

The bonfire illuminated the area with warmth and light. People of all ranks milled about out of uniform. On a borrowed crate there were platters of sausage and s’mores supplied that were rapidly depleting as people arrived. There were several jugs of something, a couple were labeled alcoholic.

There were a lot of people. 

Cloud desperately wanted to bow out, but– 

Kunsel with his helmet still on leaned on the doorway of his shop. 

“Oh hi, Kunsel right? From the bar last Sunday,” Cloud treated him. It was Friday of the next day and he hadn’t actually talked that much to Kunsel before Tidus ruined the night. 

“Mhmm,” He smiled and nodded. Cloud got up from where he'd been sitting to properly have a conversation. 

“How can I help you,” Cloud asked pleasantly. Outside he was fine, but he’d been dreading seeing Zack again. 

The letter from home had been a good reminder of his goal for the military: Be as forgettable as possible and stay away from SOLDIER. 

Zack wasn’t conducive to either of those goals.

“You’re going to the bonfire tonight right?” Kunsel said deadly serious. 

“Um– its not really my scene,” Cloud admitted, looking away. 

If Kunsel was glaring then Cloud couldn’t tell.

“Zack’s expecting you,” Kunsel said simply and that was enough .*

So Cloud stood in his winter jacket and new scarf alone on the edge of the crowd. The scarf still smelled like home so there was that. 

“Cloud! Hey!” A very familiar voice called and all but barreled into him. Cloud would have gone hurtling to the ground if it wasn’t for Zack keeping them both upright. His normal spiky hair hair was pulled into a gelled back ponytail and winged blue eyeliner complimented his dark green pants and long coat that went down to his mid thigh. Dressed up but not above what the occasion called for.

“Great Minerva it’s been a while hasn’t it,” Zack grinned with puffs of breath as he spoke. 

“It's been like a month,” Cloud said. He was hyper aware of all the eyes on him now with the host glued to his side. 

“Hey, a month is a while in my book,” Zack replied with such earnesty. Cloud resisted the urge to turn his face into Zack’s side and take a deep breath. 

 “Anything interesting happen while I was at the Tower?” Zack asked.

Lonnie. Archer. Tidus.

“Nope,” Cloud lied with a smile. 

“Boo, gossip is the best part of being on base,” Zack had a little whine to his voice but it didn’t sound serious.

“I’m not really an interesting person,” Cloud said with a sheepish shrug.

“Mmm, agreed to disagree. Oh Hey, is that new?” Zack changed the subject before Cloud could argue feeling the soft material. Cloud took a few healthy steps back, tugging it tighter. 

“Yeah, my–”

What the hell was Sephiroth’s label?

Associate? 

Friend?

Boyfriend?  

“Roommate, from back home, he made it for me,” Cloud spilled the words out of his mouth. It was just a scarf, but It was like some barrier between his secrets in Nibelheim and here was eroding. Two pots of paint mixing hues. The SOLDIER of this world couldn’t mix with Sephiroth. 

A blank look fell over Zack’s face for a moment’s breath before he returned to his normal demeanor.  

That was worrying.

Cloud didn’t have time to ruminate because Zack pulled him closer to the fire with a quick tug. People were throwing small slips of paper into the fire. 

“Here,” Zack pulled out a slip of paper with a small pen. He placed it into Cloud’s palm, then curled Cloud’s fingers around it with his own hand.

“Write what you want to let go in the New Year and throw it into the fire,” 

What he wanted to let go. 

Guilt, pain, grief. All of it he wanted to let go. There were a thousand things to let go. 

Cloud wrote one word on the paper. 

Claudia

The paper burned in seconds in the fire. 

it wasn’t perfect. 

But it would do for now. 

Cloud couldn’t help but imagine her in the swirl of the smoke drifting off into the sky. She’d like that, it was almost the proper funeral for a hunter. 

Zack had his head lowered in some kind of prayer then threw his paper into the fire.

“The end of year bonfire was an old Gongaga tradition. We’d collect leaf litter and fallen branches from the jungle and burn them then spread the cooled ashes to help new growth, or even controlled burns if the season called for it,” Zack said with a fond smile for a childhood long past. He looked up at the night sky that only had a few twinkling lights. That was one of the hardest things to get used to. A near starless sky. 

“We’d have this soup in the Great Hall’s hearth that would cook all winter, and people would just keep adding to it, and it was like- 50 gil for any sized bowl and 30 if you bought meat to add to it. On the new year everyone in town would eat their fill and what’s left got taken to neighboring towns in a big march,” Cloud said. Memories of rich hearty soup chock-full of potatoes and wild carrots and beef. The fire danced and crackled, sending waves of heat on his cold face. It was one of the few traditions his family had been welcome at.

“That sounds like it would taste great,” Zack said softly. “Do you… miss it? Your home?” 

Did he miss Nibelheim?
Phantom pains from thrown rocks and hurt feelings ached.

The gentle hands of his mother and then Sephiroth.

“I miss parts of it,” Cloud admitted, still looking at the fire. A larger hand threaded itself through Cloud’s gloved fingers. It was bare but warm.

It didn’t scare him like it should have. 

“Yeah,” Zack whispered back. 

The moment was broken by excited voices calling for Zack. Zack inhaled like he was breathing in strength and then waved at the new people joining the festivities. The smile on his face was a little strained.  

The price of popularity. 

Cloud stuck to Zack like his shadow, and was generally disregarded by the various people who swung around to say Hi then leave to find someone else. The night consisted of drifting between groups and the food table to put more out and refilling the drinks. It was cold enough not to need an ice chest for them. 

“Are you always this busy at parties,” Cloud finally spoke after at least two hours. 

“Kinda, it’s part of playing host,” Zack smiled and rubbed the back of his head. 

“Another reason for me to never throw a party,” Cloud hummed and removed his gloves to eat the S’more that had found its way into his hands. Zack barked a laugh. 

A commotion started on the other end of the field where the bonfire was held. A distinct and familiar WARK echoed through the crowd. 

Cloud’s head snapped to the direction the sound came from. 

“Did- you don’t think?” Zack looked at Cloud then at the crowd. Only one thing made that noise.

“I think so,” Cloud murmured, and then they both took off toward the noise. 

Two people in winter riding gear gently stroked the large yellow bird’s neck and head. 

A Chocobo. 

“Oh yeah, we couldn’t get a jeep to travel here from the tower, and we missed the last train soooo, Bird!” They laughed and fed the bird some treats. 

Cloud wiggled his way to the front of the crowd. A few elbows jammed into his side and there was a few offended noises as he tried to push his way to the front. Finally breaking through, there it was in its full glory. 

The bird was glorious. Dandelion yellow feathers with strong legs that ended in sharp claws capable of goring wolves. Her, Cloud assumed it was a girl based on her plumage, call echoed loud and friendly. 

Someone fed her a sausage which she happily took. She looked a healthy weight and well cared for. 

“Kweh,” She called with a fluff of her wings. 

Cloud couldn’t help the giddy laugh that sneaked out. He approached the bird with one hand out that she sniffed. The excitement in his chest made him feel like a kid again, there was just pure unadulterated wonder at the animal. Her warm keratin beak nuzzled his face and he laughed again, a little stronger this time. His hand sank through the feathers on her chest about five inches to gently scratch. He pet the back of her head which she bowed for. What a good girl.

“So, you certainly like chocobos,” One of the riders on Cloud’s right commented.

“Mhmm,” Cloud said absent-mindedly more focused on the gorgeous girl in front of him.

“I’m good friends with a breeder in the city, maybe you and I could–” He started but was interrupted.

“Cloud, hey,” Zack appeared next to Cloud and finally caught up through the crowd. The bird nuzzled at something through Cloud’s coat. 

“Wha’r’ya doin?” Cloud’s accent thicker than ever turned ‘what are you’ into one sound. He fished around for what the bird was so interested in. It was a medium pure black feather with an iridescent shine to it that had been placed between two flat planes of glass to protect it. It was connected to a chain that turned it into a necklace. 

“That’s mine, someone important gave it to me,” Cloud said to the chocobo. Cloud almost laughed at the idea of Sephiroth on a chocobo. She tapped her beak against the glass which made little clinking noises.  After a few minutes of soaking in the Chocobo’s attention other people hovered around, eyes darting between Cloud and the Chocobo. A few had started to lightly stroke parts of her plumage. Cloud sighed and gave her one last stroke before moving on out of the circle. 

Away from the group the air seemed fresher. Cloud took a big breath of it, out of the sea of bodies and chatter. 

“So you really like chocobos,” Zack commented, holding a red solo cup of something.

“They’re novel. I was never around them as a kid so they’re really cool to me,” Cloud admitted.

“You know, now that I think about it. Your hair kinda looks like one,” Zack flicked a strand which got him swatted at. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Chocobos are great,” Cloud turned his head away from Zack who laughed. 

“I’m just teasing,” Zack jostled Cloud with a small shove. 

“Well, you’re bad at it, get better material,” Cloud walked over to the s’more table and made himself another one. Was that too harsh? He’d tried to sound playful but it probably came out as blunt.

“Ok Mr. 25 but acts 52 who doesn’t have a phone or an personal email and still writes actual letters like you’re some Junon republic soldier going off to war,” Zack puts his hands on his hips. 

“At least I’m not a rich boy,” Cloud looked back with a small tilt of his head, Zack clutched his chest in fake pain. 

“You wound me Strife,” Zack said in a fake wheeze. 

“I have much more ammo on you than you do on me, don’t play games you can’t win,” Cloud pulled his marshmallow out of the fire and smashed it between two graham crackers and a hunk of chocolate. Zack clutched his non-existent pearls. 

Cloud didn’t have any siblings to practise this kind of verbal banter with but living next to nibelheim was kinda like having one that hated your guts.

“You’re fun,” Zack declared as Cloud ate his food.

He was?
“I am?” Cloud raised an eyebrow. Cloud has been described many ways: Quiet, weird, stubborn, blunt. No one had ever called him fun before. He could spar verbally with the best of them when he was younger but that just led to someone crying.

“Yeah,” Zack reaffirmed. 

“Then, you make it easier to have fun,” Cloud whispered, not taking his eyes off the fire. Sneaking a look at him, Zack had a big stupid grin on his face. 

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” someone said from behind him. Cloud swung himself around to see Commander Hewley. 

“Angeal! You made it!” Zack thumped Hewley in the chest with his fist playfully. 

“Good to see you, Strife you as well. Seems your wrist has healed well,” Hewley nodded at him and Cloud just numbly nodded back. 

“Full mobility?” Hewley continued.

“Yes, sir. Nothing was broken,” Cloud turned his wrist over in his other hand, back now salute straight and standing. 

“Glad to hear that. This is quite the fire, I’m glad you got it put together. Fun like this is good for the soul,” Hewley looked over the sea of people mingling. Some people had drums and guitars and even one accordion. 

“It almost didn’t happen! The base didn’t want to let me do a fire but I threw around some weight a little and they agreed,” Zack said with a grin.

“You bribed a secretary, didn’t you,” Hewley said, more a statement than a question.

“I bribed a secretary,” Zack confirmed shamelessly.

Cloud let himself sink into the background, more comfortable watching Zack and Hewley chat than join in himself. Hewley wore sturdy denim pants that had a patch sewn into the knee, a red and black thick flannel over a red shirt the same shade as the flannel, and a beanie over his ears. He was much more dressed down than he was in promotional stuff. No sword on his back, no makeup, no inspiring words. 

Just someone who cared enough about his clothes to mend a hole instead of just buying new ones. Frugal– Cloud approved. 

Studying Hewley let the strangeness of the entire situation finally set in. He once had trading cards of Angeal Hewley, and now he’s standing right next to him, talking even. This larger than life figure shrank down to the size of a man.  

Sephiroth’s warning rang in his ears.

You’re not LISTENING TO ME. YOU WILL LEAVE AND WHATEVER HOJO DEIGNS TO RETURN WILL NO LONGER BE YOU

Zack had to be different right? Seph was the paranoid type about Shinra on a good day. 

It wasn’t like being friends with him equaled walking right into the jaws of the science department. Having a friend was nice . 

This didn’t matter. Once his contract was up he was going home and finding a different job and one day he’d look back on this and go ‘Hey remember that one time I was friends with Zack Fair for four months during my service in Shinra infantry, wasn’t that funny a Commander being friends with a private’ then laugh. 

“Cloud,” Zack’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“Oh huh?” Was his intelligent reply. 

“Angeal was asking about your plans after your contract was up?” Zack said. 

Cloud looked at Hewley. He waited patiently for a response.  

“Go home, find a different job there,” Cloud replied quietly. 

“That’s it?” 

If Hewley expected things like ambition then he’d best look elsewhere. 

“Pretty much sir,” 

Neither of them looked very happy with that response. 

Tough shit. 

“You could find plenty of jobs in midgar, above or below plate, or in most major cities with the mechanical repair training you have,” Hewley crossed his arms. 

“I just want to go home Sir,” Cloud said flatly.

“If you’re anything like Zack, and you probably are if you’re friends with him, he was suffocating in Gongaga. Enough that he ran away to join the military, don’t you want more?” Hewley continued poking till a wound he’d rather not open started to bleed. 

Don’t you want more? Don’t you want more? Don’t you want more?

Yes!

Cloud did want to leave. He wanted to fly away from Nibelheim and soar over the mountains far far away. But these days he had one big cat-eyed reason to stay. 

“With respect sir, you are making unfair assumptions about me,” Cloud said in his corporate reactor voice. Hewley finally seemed to back down.

“You’re correct, I apologize, it's the mentor in me that wants to push people to be the best they can,” Hewley said like Cloud cared. It was meant well. 

He just wants to leave now. 

“I’m going to go get another S’more,” Cloud announced. 

Zack jogged up beside him. His face was tense.

“Hey, I’m sorry about that, Angeal- he means well, but he can really stick his foot in his mouth sometimes especially with Sephiroth even though they fight way less than Genesis and seph–” Zack rambled. Cloud sped up. 

“Ok, Ok, no talking about Sephiroth I remember, Hey! Cloud!” Zack grabbed Cloud’s arm. The grip was solid but nowhere near bruising. “What’s going on?”
Zack’s blue eyes held an ocean of concern and confusion. 

“It’s nothing,” Cloud said, short and sharp. 

“Oh that’s bullshit and we both know it,” Zack tried for levity but landed in desperation instead.

“How about you shove off and stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” Cloud bit. He didn’t want to talk about his feelings. Not here, not now. Zack didn’t need to know the full extent of his damage.

“I’m going to ignore that under the fact you’ve just seriously gotten your feelings hurt, but that doesn’t mean you get to be a jerk. I’m just trying to help,” Zack’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“I don’t want your help,” Cloud lied, trying not to raise his voice. Zack was being so nice and Cloud didn’t know how to stop being shitty. 

“Cloud, It’s ok. I’m not going to run off because you’re not being perfectly pleasant. I just want to see if I can help. You’re hurting and I don’t like that. Please. Talk to me,” Zack was rambling again. Cloud was hurting, he felt the ache and the panic welling. 

It’s ok if you’re not perfect. 

He’s not going to leave. 

“People keep expecting things of me. They make up this person in their head they want me to be and I’m the one who has to deal with it,” He started out calm, an attempt at trying to explain why he was mad or upset or maybe a combination of both, “If they think I’m terrible or boring or whatever that’s fine, I don’t care, but you think I’m fun . I’m not like that. I’m not the person you have in your head. I’m so scared of disappointing you,” Cloud felt tears well in his stupid eyes. He got more and more out of control of his voice as weeks of frustration and confusion overtook his self control 

This was stupid. 

He was stupid. 

Cloud was nothing compared to Zack. No friends, no ambition, no charm. Why did he keep coming back? His thoughts jumbled like a block tower falling apart. Zack was making the same mistake as everyone else, thinking Cloud was someone he wasn’t. But Zack thought he was fun and someone worth his time when he really wasn’t. He was a nothing reactor worker, from a nothing town. 

He didn’t want Zack to get hurt when he finally realized that.

Why are the other kids mean? I just wanted to play wolf with them.
You’re a Strife baby, and they think we aren’t doing what the gods commanded us to. 

I don’t wanna be a Strife! I want them to be nice to me! 

I know baby, I know. I love you so much even if they don’t.

Strong arms pulled him tight against a solid chest. Cloud’s cold cheek slowly leeched up the warmth. A gentle squeeze made the swarm of bees in his head settle down. It was just strong enough to make it difficult to breathe but eased off quickly. Cloud sucked in a deep breath. It was a miracle that his asthma didn’t kick up a fuss.

The hug was done long before Cloud was ready to face Zack. He was crying now fully. Hands cupped his cheeks and wiped away tears. 

“That’s my friend you’re talking about there. You should be nicer to him,” Zack was calm and stable and had a goofy smile on his face that made the crushing weight of breaking down in public less oppressive. Cloud tried to hide his face in Zack’s palm, but he was guided back into making eye contact. 

“I’m being serious, even if you do believe that. Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re just reinforcing it,” Zack held his face tighter.

Cloud was pulled into another hug that he relaxed into this time.  Zack smelled like smoke and ever so slightly like sausage. A hand carded through his hair. It glided through the strands and gently scratched his scalp. The tension in his chest that wound him exhausted uncoiled as if the soft strokes were also untangling knotted threads in his chest.

“I’m sorry if I made you think I’m projecting someone onto you, but I do think you’re fun and I do like being around you,” Zack whispered. 

“After fourteen years I left the sea, for a life upon a lake

After all the storms I'd seen, I needed a good break

I thought still waters would mean peace for me

But that was a mistake

For the place I chose was bedeviled by a giant evil drake ”

The instruments struck up a tune about a sailor fighting a fearsome duck, and a group of people started a small dance. Cloud didn’t have the energy to laugh. He felt like a wrung out towel but he appreciated the humor in the song. It was silly. Cloud needed a little bit of silly right then. 

He closed his eyes to bask in the warmth that surrounded him.

Zack

As Zack held Cloud one thought coursed through his head. The same one that had been there all night. 

Why did Cloud’s scarf smell like Sephiroth?

It didn’t make sense. Zack knew what Sephiroth smelled like. Even under the deodorant and soap and antiseptic from a visit to Hojo Sephiroth had a specific scent. Everyone did. That scent was all over Cloud’s new scarf. 

Did Sephiroth have some secret friend that none of them knew about? Is that why Cloud freaked out so bad when he mentioned Seph?

Zack breathed a sigh. When Cloud had looked at him like a ghost the first time they met Zack was determined to be his friend. He’d expected someone from a previous mission. Maybe Cloud had lost someone because of a combat mission with Zack, or he’d seen Zack take a hit that would have killed most normal people. But that wasn’t the reason at all. Cloud had never seen combat. He was exempt because of his asthma. He’d also been with Delta his entire time in the military and that squad didn’t have any casualties.

So why did he seem so haunted when he looked at Zack? Why did he have something that Sephiroth had recently enough to still have his scent?

Mysteries for another day, because when Cloud sighed and leaned further into Zack’s warmth he found that he didn’t care who Cloud was before that exact moment. 

Jaunty music filled the air as midnight grew closer according to his phone. Small white flakes drifted down in a fluttering dance. 

“Hey Cloud, look. Snow ,” Zack peeled Cloud off his collarbone to look at the sky. Wonder filled his eyes. 

Cloud didn’t smile, but this was pretty damn close. His hand reached up to catch little flakes on his palm. His bright blue eyes practically sparkled even while still puffy and red. 

“I haven’t seen snow since I left home,” He whispered. 

Zack hated snow. It was fun for a few hours then it turned the roads shitty and made everything wet . It was the tropical climate baked into his genes. 

He could learn to tolerate it for Cloud if it chased away his demons. It was evident that Cloud had them in droves, but until that night Zack hadn’t known just how many. Minerva, the way that Cloud looked at him with tears. Like Cloud wasn’t funny and made Zack feel so human rather than Shinra’s propaganda machine. 

He hadn’t mentioned Zack’s fame once . 

What kind of past stripped someone of love for themselves like that? 

Cloud, for the briefest moment, looked light and happy in the snow drifting through the air. It had to be such a small but precious reminder of home, like the hot, humid days that reminded him of Gongaga.

Then the sky exploded. 

Loud pop. Pop. Pop. Then sparks of green and blue and red. The product of generations of Wutian science and engineering painted the sky. 

Fireworks . 

It was midnight. 

The New Year. 

The light seared into his eyes to the point that when he blinked, there was the ghost of it under his lids. 

Another pop. More light. 

Zack turned to see Cloud only to find him with his eyes screwed tightly shut and the heel of his hand digging into his ears. 

Another Pop and Cloud flinched hard.

Was he afraid of the fireworks?

Zack placed his hands over Cloud’s. Another pop, another flinch, and Zack tugged him closer. 

“I got you,” Zack said, not caring if he was heard. 

The small flakes reflected the light of the fireworks, making them for brief moments, shine a range of hues. 

The night was beautiful, and Cloud was afraid. 

 Zack wasn’t.

He could be brave for both of them. 

Chapter Text

“We have new orders,” Robin walked into the room with a packet of papers raised in his hand. The morning had been slow and the day followed suit as the new year settled into everyone. The disastrously variable bonfire had eaten at Cloud’s nerves and anxiety for the last few weeks. Crying in public always burned him emotionally. It is because of the kind of intrusive, embarrassing memories that popped up right at the edge of sleep. Only recently had the memory faded enough not to be so potent. 

“Where are we going?” Donnie asked as a packet of paper was handed to him. 

“Midgar?” Jackie asked as he flipped through his own packet.

Midgar? The panic spiked sharply then simmered lightly. That first suffocating flash of panic before better sense sanded away the sharp point but still left behind a spike. 

“A squad there was convicted of dealing with local gangs and was dismissed. We’re up next on the list to replace someone,” Robin said. Cloud didn’t want to go to the city, he barely survived on the outskirts. How the hell did he keep getting sent closer and closer to the one place he didn’t want to be?

“Transport leaves in the morning,” Robin finished and then left the room. He treats most conversations like mission debriefs, according to Jackie who actually went on missions. 

The morning. Just a few hours till he was living in the same building as the Shinra Science division. The look of fear on Seph’s face rang clear as a bell in his mind. The strength of his grip made mottled bruises that ached in a phantom pain. Hojo was the monster that haunted Sephiroth, and Cloud was walking right into his lair. 

—---

They loaded up in humvees and drove the meager distance into the city. It was just a long enough distance that they needed the cars, but not so far away to be a long drive. Cloud sat with his duffle bag of stuff situated on his lap. He always traveled with his stuff on his lap, right where he could hold on tight. It was a habit that started in the cruel days of youth, but had grown into a more reasonable decision over the years the deeper he got into Shinra. The wasteland of the outskirts turned into more densely urban areas. It was a gradual transformation as scrub brush gave way to the concrete jungle. 

They drove along the main roads through the underplate. Again and again, Cloud saw people asleep against buildings. They looked rough.

Uncared for.

Forgotten. 

Cloud wasn’t ignorant to the fact that Nibelheim was a small part of the world, and an insular one at that. Surrounded by mountains meant that they were safe but it also cut them off from the rest of the world. Change was feared and tradition was sacred. 

His family knew that more than anyone. 

The fact that Nibelheim was so set in its ways meant that the last 2 years had been a rough ride of discovery.  Of everything that had surprised him about the world outside of Nibelheim, he couldn’t believe that people could be left like this.

They pulled into a garage area that was bustling with people getting in and out of vehicles. Everyone unloaded their bags and gear to find their new permanent placements. Robin handed each member of Delta squad a sheet of paper. It was just normal printer paper in a clean minimalist style, not even a little Shinra logo. It detailed their new life. 

Cloud was to report to the secretary pool first thing tomorrow morning. Now he worked under Colonel Bell as his secretary. A desk job didn’t sound so bad. Cloud hoped Colonel Bell wouldn’t make him eat those words.

Infantrymen in Shinra tower had their own rooms, which was nice at least. The click of the door shut made Cloud realize how living communally chafed against his nature. The lack of privacy, the constant threat of someone walking in, the near-constant presence of someone else. It wasn’t bad, but it was so different from how he had lived for so long. There wasn’t much to decorate his room with as most of the space in his duffle had been dedicated to his clothing and essentials, but he did place his box of hidden things. He placed it under the bed, which was standard issue mediocre.

 The walls were white, the floor was linoleum, and that weird speckled gray color that most official buildings had. There was a desk, a two-drawer dresser, and a single chair all in the same shade of brown that was the average of every shade of brown mixed together. The room was serviceable, and someone could live in it. 

He got ready for bed and found sleep far away. The city below him, even in the dead of night, bustled below him. There was no quiet. No soft sounds of wildlife and wind, but industrial metal and machines. 

The secretary pool was a buzz with action even at 5am. It looked to be mostly sharply dressed women with a few men in nice suits running about, and then Cloud in his fatigues. 

“Oh goodness you must be Coronel Bell’s new secretary. Welcome to Shinra Tower,” A woman with a bob that curled around her face shook his hesitant hand. He hadn’t felt very welcome, but the jaws of a lion never felt inviting to a mouse.

“Your job is to vet any in-coming or out-going calls as well as handle his schedule and– oh a word of advice, admin will always want things digital, (so they can just delete any paper trail when things get fucked up but you didn’t hear that from me) but keep a physical copy of any form or important email,” she spoke like a bumble bee in a hurry. 

In a whirlwind of advice, he was suddenly seated outside an important-looking door in a small room. A sticky note was stuck to his forehead with several phone extensions and a computer password.

“Ah did Dottie get to you?” The voice that spoke had an amused tilt to it, but carried age. The sticky note was plucked off and stuck to the desk. The owner of the voice was an older man, not like Robin or Wesker, but the kind that carried experience on the slope of his shoulders and the crows feet of his eyes. A patch that said “Bell” was velcroed onto his chest. 

Cloud shot into parade rest and a salute.

“Cloud Strife reporting for duty, Coronel Bell sir,” he said sharply.

“At ease. It’s good to meet you; been needing someone to manage things since my last secretary left to have her baby,” Bell said with a lingering fondness.

Cloud nodded and fell into a more comfortable stance.

“I’m guessing you just got into the city by the exhaustion in your eyes, first nights are rough for people who aren’t used to the noise. Don’t worry by the time your service is up you’ll put on “city ambiance” for white noise when you sleep,” Bell was a warm man, experience had made him compassionate instead of jaded. Cloud was exhausted. His back hurt from the bed and breakfast wasn’t served for another hour.

“You have training videos to watch. I’ll be in my office. I don’t have anything scheduled, so just focus on learning the ropes today,” Bell said as he walked into the office beyond the fancy door. 

Huh.

That was significantly less painful than Cloud had been expecting. He listened to hours of training videos (which was painful) as people he’d seen glimpses of in the secretary pool came by to say hello. Some even gave him little shinra branded things for his desk. 

“Hi, so sorry about the rush earlier, I needed to get coffee from the cafeteria for a meeting, and the coffee maker was broken, so I had to go to the lobby, and oh my goodness, coffee should not be that hard to find in an office, am I right?” The woman that Bell had called Dottie returned. 

“Right,” Cloud said, not knowing the first thing about coffee in an office. 

“It's time to clock out by the way,” She smiled, showing her paper punch card. Cloud pulled out his own paper card. 

“I’m Dottie,” Her nails had polka dots on them.

“Cloud,” He replied and shook her hand.

Cloud really liked having his own room. 

Like a lot. 

He got to sit and be undisturbed without anyone’s eyes on him. There was a peace he got now that hadn’t been an option in at least two years. Cloud let it wash over his mind and body feeling tension and stress ooze out. No rise of eyes watching him, just four enclosed walls and a door.

Then someone knocked on said door. It was all he had not to swear up a blue streak. 

His superior officers wouldn’t bother knocking, He didn’t have work that day as it was the weekend.

“Cloud, C’mon open the door!” The familiar voice of Zack whined, stretching out the ‘o’ in “door”. 

Cloud sighed and heaved himself up. The stress of moving then settling into a new job left him in no mood for going out the first weekend after arriving that monday.

“Hi Zack,” Cloud greeted him, more tired than he planned on letting on. 

“Get your shoes on, we’re going out,” Zack stood tall with his hands on his hips. 

 “Why?” Cloud asked automatically. He had neither the money nor the desire to go out and eat food.

“Because you just got into the city! It's an occasion to celebrate. Don’t worry I’ll pay.” Zack wiggled his wallet. 

“Fine, give me a second to get shoes on,” Cloud turned to slip on his boots. 

“Kinda empty in here,” Zack commented, looking around the admittedly bare room. 

“Didn’t have the space for decorations in my duffle,” Cloud explained. The box of treasures from home had taken up that space. Zack hummed in an indistinguishable way. No real intent behind it, but a noise of thought. 

Cloud laced up his boots and threw on a jacket, not his big nice one but just something to keep the cold off. 

No one ever prepares you for how mundane Shinra tower actually was. It really was just a business space. People in suits and blouses got in and off the elevators as they traveled down, and there were inoffensive nothing paintings on the wall with some fake plants in the lobby areas. The infantry and SOLDIER were toward the top of the building to keep civilians from having to go through military floors with the military departments either in the basement or even farther up. Soldier was near the top of the building. 

Zack and Cloud exited on to the busy street outside Shinra Tower. Zack stretched and took a deep breath of the city air. The air in the city played stupid games with his asthma, but he was adjusting. 

“C’mon we’re going below the plate,” Zack laced his fingers together behind his neck and strolled with his arms hanging. 

Before the underplate had been only a semi-visible blur from the jeep, but now on foot it was defined. Cloud saw the run down houses with cardboard over broken windows, the unpaved streets and cracked wood porches. Electric lights on the underside of the plate provided light instead of the sun. They glared as big bright spots in a sea of metal, like the eyes on moth wings.

There were also the forgotten people. They shambled empty with green-tinted swollen eyes or they laid so still they were easily mistaken for piles of blankets. A hand smacked his shoulder. 

“Its rude to stare,” Zack said. He sounded serious. 

“I- I don’t understand,” Cloud finally blurted out the thought that had bugged him since arriving in the city.

“Well, when you look at someone for a–” Zack didn’t sound like the joke he was trying to make.

“No- no- the people, what's- why have they been abandoned like that?” Cloud really didn’t understand. Not everywhere was like Nibelheim, but this was so far into the realm of not making sense. 

“They’re homeless Cloud. For whatever reason, they lose everything they have,” Zack’s voice now had a hard edge to it. 

“But- why don’t the people around them help? Where is the local government?” 

Cloud felt a dread sink in his chest. 

“Doing other things to try and please Shinra, I know you’re new here but you can’t be that naive,” Zack didn’t glare, but he certainly wasn’t impressed. 

Naive? Naive? Even if  Zack was three years older than Cloud, that didn’t give him the right to judge him like that. Cloud hadn’t been naive since his Ma’ died. Since he dropped out of school to start working at the reactor. 

“I know I’m new, but don’t call me naive,” Cloud said. His tone was cold and maybe too harsh.
“I’m not calling you naive, I’m saying you can’t possibly be naive. it’s just a sensitive topic and you’re acting like no one is doing anything or the underplate just can’t see the obvious answer when there isn’t one,” Zack huffed. 

“You are calling me naive, there is an obvious answer here, no one should be left to freeze, so why are these people being forgotten?” Cloud challenged. 

“Of course no one should be left to freeze, and we’re doing all we can when there isn’t enough to go around. We can’t just force people to open their homes, It's not like Nibelheim, you need to get that,” 

“I have been reminded its not like Nibelheim every day for the last two years thanks,”
Cloud bit out. The disagreement was boiling into an argument, mentioning home turned it personal, hit in the soft underbelly.

“Look, Cloud– yeah, okay– sometimes people get left in the cracks. We want to help, but there are a thousand other things to do,”

“It's not hard to give them a place to stay,” Cloud knew it wasn’t; why didn’t Zack?

“Oh like you know literally anything about Midgar living on a base an hour outside of town,” Zack’s temper finally snapped, and the part that hurt was he was right. Cloud had shot his mouth off. 

He just didn’t understand. 

“Right, sorry,” Cloud backed down, the anger fizzled out of his voice.

“Minerva now I feel like the asshole,” Zack ran his hand through his mane of dark hair. He sounded spread thin. 

“Sorry?” Cloud offered. He wasn’t sure what he did exactly. 

“No- you just make yourself so small when you apologize and maybe I should have explained better,” Zack walked away a few paces before wandering back.

“I shouldn’t have gotten defensive,” Cloud raised his shoulders to around his ears. 

“Would you at least look me in the eye,” It wasn’t annoyance, at least not alone, but a weariness in Zack’s voice. Cloud tried, he did, but–

It scared him. 

What would he find? What did Zack look like with his frustration directed at Cloud. 

The ground was easier, safer. 

Less likely to get Cloud yelled at for being disrespectful. 

Of course, Zack would never hit him. 

He wouldn’t.

Nibelheim was built on superstition and the wild. The mountain was so essential to life that it seeped into the town, and animals took eye contact as a challenge. 

“Excuse me,” 

Tifa?
Lo and behold, Tifa Lockhart stood in the doorway of the bar they’d started arguing in front of. 

“Cloud?” Tifa’s eyes widened. 

“You two know each other?” Zack looked between Cloud and Tifa. 

“Yeah, we came from the same town–”

“Nibelheim,”

“Nibelheim,”

Tifa and Zack said the same name at the same time but it couldn’t have sounded more different. 

The bar was named Seventh Heaven. a large black man behind the counter washed dishes in an inset sink off to the right, a few patrons milled about.  

“So- army man now,” Tifa smiled, and it lit up the room. Her teasing was friendly with a splash of curiosity. 

“Need money to eat,” Cloud admitted with a shrug. It wasn’t technically a lie, that was the reason why he joined the army, but it felt like lying by omission. That was such a small part of a much bigger situation.

“What happened to your reactor job?” Tifa whipped a glass clean and placed it in front of Zack. 

“Reactor got hit by Avalanche, I was laid off,” Cloud really hadn’t meant for it to be pointed; there was just no way to tell the truth and not seem accusatory.

“Oh, that sucks,” Tifa was carefully neutral, and ducked down for something below the bar.

“So you two know each other?” Zack tried to pick up the drink but Tifa took it back, squeezed lemon into it, then gave it back. 

“Yup, we went to school together,” Tifa popped her hip. Not technically a lie either, they did go to school together, only that doesn't make you friends. 

“Cool, Cool,” Zack said, successfully taking a sip of the drink. He looked at it impressed which made Tifa giggle. She quickly sombered up.

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but you were arguing outside my bar, and–” Tifa focused on cutting up lemons instead of looking at them. 

“No no- that’s our fault for deciding to argue about stuff in the middle of town,” Zack waved her off with frantic waves of his hands. He had his charming “boy next door” persona that he used when the situation got awkward.

“In Nibelheim, there’s this thing called the Great Hall, it's like a community center and courthouse and town hall all in one, and if you can’t afford to stay somewhere in town, the Great Hall will house you for free as long as you contribute to keeping it running. Homelessness is literally not a thing in Nibelheim. It was a massive culture shock for me too when I got here,” She smiled at Cloud who’s cheeks were reaching a new shade of red.

It was a stupid misunderstanding. A cultural difference. Cloud, instead of listening, had shot his big mouth off. 

Zack was turning a similar shade of red. 

“You know, I’d like it if you came around here more often, Cloud. Make up for lost time?” She sounded hopeful with a hit of nervousness. She placed a tumbler of something honey gold. 

Cloud took a sip and nearly melted.

Oh that tasted like home .

Tifa laughed at him, and all it did was double the warmth in his chest.

“100% real Nibelheim honey mead, got it shipped in from home for an arm, specifically Barrets,” She said looking at the large man that was at the sink who Cloud noticed was missing an arm.

“Ha. Ha.” He said, not even close to actually laughing.

“Cloud, we’re not in Nibelheim anymore. I really want to make up for all the years I wasn’t brave enough,” 

Tifa’s hand gripped his clothed forearm, the sleeve giving just enough barrier between them to keep the moment from becoming too raw.  

“You were a kid,” Cloud murmured into his drink.
“So were you,” Tifa said.

They paused staring at each other. 

“We should get going,” Cloud slid off his stool and started for the exit, leaving Tifa behind. 

They were both kids.

It wasn’t his fault. 

Hate isn’t the fault of children, it’s their parent’s for not being kinder. 

That didn’t make healing any easier. 

“Cloud, hey, what’s going on? You rushed out of there pretty quick,” Zack raced after Cloud down the street. 

“It's a long story,” Cloud tried to rub the chill out of his bones. 

“Is that code for you don’t want to talk about it?” Zack sounded a little disappointed but thankfully didn’t press.   

It wasn’t exactly a secret or anything. Cloud’s past was just an unfortunate case of cultural superstition, but it was too sad for pleasant company. Mentioning what home was like never failed to stall the conversation to an awkward lull and kill the mood. After a while Cloud learned better than to bring it up. That was fine.

Cloud never felt comfortable talking about his home anyway. 

Zack sighed and led them through a few different alleyways with people waving hello every now and then.

The streets were tread dirt instead of concrete or asphalt. The weaved through the streets, a few times where the buildings were more damaged and the streets got rougher, Zack would pull Cloud close till they left the area. Finally they ended up at the front of a thrift store. The inside smelled of Old, like dust and aged leather and cloth. Cloud loved it. 

“Wow,” Cloud breathed out. Zack grinned widely. 

“Nice and affordable, so you don’t have to worry about me spending too much,” Zack strolled through the store, picking up anything that caught his interest. 

“Mr. Fair! How are you doing?” The store owner, or who seemed like the owner, approached him with an affectionate smile.

“Doin’ great Mr. Forsyth,” Zack greeted back and gave him a firm handshake. Little things reminded Cloud he was trans every now and then. The way Zack confidently strode into the firm handshake, and casual stride into the polite conversation with square shoulders all felt very masculine. 

Was Cloud getting gender envy from a handshake?
He busied himself with looking at the price tag on a set of sheets. This place really was affordable. 

“If you want them, take them,” Mr. Forsyth nodded at the sheets. They were good quality with a mid to high thread count.

“Uh- no, it’s okay, Zack’s paying,” Cloud managed to fit the words in the right order before they left his mouth. 

“Oh then I must insist on you taking them after everything Mr. Fair has done,” Mr. Forsyth said. 

He placed the sheets in Cloud's hands. Zack had disappeared to wander the shelves stranding Cloud to try and be social alone.

“Oh- what did he do?” Cloud asked. Soldiers didn’t really go below plate from what little he’d learned at Ft. Midgar about the city. Infantry patrolled below the plate.

“You don’t know? The lights! Mr. Fair is a part of the representative council for the slums. He lobbied Shinra for almost a year to get them replaced and put on a proper dimming cycle. Before they were pitiful and just shut off completely at 7pm leaving us all in the dark in the blink of an eye,” Mr. Forsyth said proudly. Cloud didn’t know what to think of the underplate calling themselves the slums, but it was probably the most blunt way to describe the area. 

“I didn’t know that,” Cloud murmured. It was another reason to feel inferior to Zack. 

Cloud quickly buried that thought as soon as it came to his mind. Zack was his friend; he was nice and patient and would hate that Cloud ranked the two of them in his head.

“Yup! So anything you want, just take, no need to pay,” Mr. Forsyth grabbed a shopping basket a few steps away and placed it in Cloud’s arms. 

“Cloud, look at this thing!” Zack from a few shelves over held up a taxidermy of a small rodent in a tutu over the stacks. It was horrible. 

“Zack, put that down,” Cloud frowned and thought about that poor thing, dying then having its body dressed up in gods awful lace and posed. Creepy .

Zack cackled loudly at Cloud's discomfort but put it down. 

The thrift store was also an antique store and had a magpie’s treasure trove of things to sell, from the terrible taxidermy to an almost new alarm clock. He could stop using his phone to wake him up in the morning. It was by the same company as the one Seph smashed all those months ago so into the basket it went. They shopped and pondered the odds and ends they found. Once in a while, Zack made Cloud look at whatever awful thing he’d found. Cloud also found his fair share of awful things, like a weird sculpture of President Shinra made of paper mache.

“I’m buying that to burn it,” Zack announced and Cloud would have if Zack wasn’t. The thing was painted but not well, and it wasn’t a mystery why someone would want to get rid of it. The mystery was why Mr. Forsyth put it on display.

They found a stack of weapons to sift through amongst the bits and bobs. Most were rusted and dull, and Cloud listened to Zack grumble about the condition they were in.
“Oh wait! This is dragon bone. That’s a really nice handle,” Zack pulled out a spear. 

Cloud stopped breathing. He lunged for the handle.

“Woah, don’t jerk it out of my hands like that, even a dull edge can still cut,” Zack snapped. Cloud wasn’t listening. Was this it? It had to be, where was the crest?

Carved into the wood right below the spearhead was a familiar crest: The Nibelheim hunting guild. Below that a delicate, cursive “CS”

Claudia Strife .

“Cloud? You plan on breathing soon?” Zack joked but there was a current of worry. 

“This is my mother’s spear,” Cloud whispered. He’d had to sell it ages ago to buy food shortly after she’d died. The wood was the right grain and feel. The dragon bone head was the right shape with a familiar red ribbon wrapped around the base of it. 

“What the hell does your Ma do for work?” Zack jumped a little at Cloud’s words. 

“Hunted dragons then she had me and did seamstress work. How did this get here?” Cloud murmured absently. He was too busy feeling the familiar weapon in his hands. Cloud hugged the spear to his chest.

 A thrift store was a weird place for a miracle to happen. 

“How do we get it back to her is the question. We can’t exactly mail a spear,” Zack scratched his head as he thought. 

“Ma’ passed away when I was 16,” Cloud said as bluntly as he could- rip off the bandage. 

“Shit, sorry,” Zack hung his head a little.

“You didn’t know,” Cloud felt the wood under his fingers, the old frayed ribbon. Zack stood awkwardly as Cloud looked over the spear. He needed to get a mount for it, hang it up on the wall like it had been before. 

A solid hand landed on Cloud's shoulder. 

“I’m glad you found it,” Zack says tenderly. 

Cloud rests his head on Zack’s shoulder and breathes deeply to try and keep himself from crying. 

They walked back to the tower with the spear clutched in Cloud’s arms and Zack carrying the rest of the stuff. They must have been a sight on the train back up above the plate with Cloud and his spear and Zack Fair sitting under his own advertisement.. Being under the open sky after the last several hours under the plate made him squirm a little. He couldn’t imagine what the people who lived down there must feel like when they’re under the open sky.

“I don’t think you can take that into the Tower,” Zack said thoughtfully as they stood in the garage that lead into the military entrance of Shinra Tower. 

“What?” Cloud felt like he’d been doused with cold water. 

“It's an unregistered weapon and definitely not shinra standard,” Zack hummed, his tongue blepped out as he thought. 

It was a little cute. 

“I could take it in, Soldiers are allowed non-regulation weapons as long as they’re not used in battle, if you trust me,” 

The question of if he trusted Zack with his mother’s spear burned. 

He didn’t want to let go, he wanted to sleep with the damn thing, but there was the risk of shinra confiscating it.

Valkyrie trusted his Zack, and this was a Zack as well. Cloud couldn’t count them as the same person, not after that had happened so much to himself.

How well did Cloud know Zack?

How much of their relationship had been helped along by the stories from Valkyrie?
Cloud picked at the hem of his shirt. A single string frayed loose from the garment, and Cloud worried it between his thumb and pointer finger feeling the small strand pull apart into several even smaller ones. 

Zack had been nothing but kind.

“Yeah, okay,” Cloud very slowly handed it over and took the thrift store bag. 

“I’ll be careful,” Zack promised.

They walked together back to Zack’s room. If it wasn’t for the spear Cloud would have retreated back to his room the moment they got back to the Tower, but he needed to see it get to safety. 

The Soldier wing of the tower made him itch with the feeling that he was trespassing. No one in the halls was under 5’10 and even with Zack next to him Cloud could imagine how badly he stuck out with soft features and short stature.

Cloud wondered what people thought when they saw them together. Back at the base a few people thought they were dating, most knew they  were at least friends. What did they think here? 

Cloud looked down at the bags and then up to Zack who held the spear. 

Did they think Cloud worked for Zack like he was carrying around his bags?

“Do you want to come in?” the question snapped Cloud out of his thoughts. The door to Zack’s room was jarringly normal. A simple metal sliding door, but it was Zack’s. His private space that he controlled who went into or didn’t. 

“It's not a trick question,” Zack opened the door and walked in, leaving Cloud fumbling outside. 

Zack’s room was exactly what Cloud expected. Overflowing laundry sat in a basket, weapons of all sorts sat in proper racks, a kitchen area to the left had dirty dishes in the sink, a corkboard full of pictures and mementos hung on the wall. 

One photo on the corkboard showed a younger Zack, both commanders and Sephiroth. He was in his Soldier uniform while the other three were comfortably in street clothes.

Sephiroth's hair was pulled back out of his face, but it was painfully blank. The world didn’t seem to permeate through to him. It floated on top, leaving him perfectly unbothered. 

It sent shivers up Cloud’s spine as he remembered those early months with his valkyrie. 

Zack rearranged the weapons rack that supported several swords till he placed one to the side and put the spear delicately in place. It blended in seamlessly with the other blades. 

Zack flopped down on his bed, not fighting gravity to stay standing anymore. Cloud wondered if he should politely leave to let Zack rest or were they supposed to do something else now that Cloud had crossed into his private space. Cloud worried his fingers in the middle of the room.

“I’ve never met someone who overthinks as much as you do,” Zack said from where he laid on the bed. “I mean, if it was a sport, then you’d take gold.”
The jibe was good-natured but it ate at him a little. He clenched his fists together then released to try and vent some of the tension. Overthinking wasn’t a good trait. It wasn’t a quality that anyone wanted attention called to.

Zack sighed; he’d done that a lot today, then made ‘come here’ motions without ever raising his head. Cloud took a few steps closer. The world disappeared into a blur as he was yanked by his arm onto the bed. The springs of the mattress made him bounce like a children's book about monkeys on beds. 

“Zack!” Cloud yelped, not able to right himself immediately after his sudden flight. Zack laughed loudly. It was the infectious kind. Cloud ended up laughing as well once he found his balance again and sat up. 

“What was that for?” Cloud smacked Zack, who laid on his side still on the bed, in the head which only made him laugh harder.  

Zack just shrugged, then combed a piece of hair out of Cloud’s face. It fell to rest on his cheek. His palm was warm and held his face like it was molded to fit. His thumb gently stroked Cloud’s cheekbone just under his eye. The pad of his thumb wasn’t calloused.

“Are you okay?” Cloud took the hand from his face and held it. Small faded scars from childhood littered his knuckles. 

“I had to kill someone who looked a lot like you, and I can’t seem to get the blood to wash off,” Zack whispered so quietly he barely made any noise at all. His presence which normally filled the whole room, a gravity well that made people fall into his orbit, shrank to nothing. He lay there on the bed, beaten.

Just because Cloud had been lucky enough not to see combat didn’t mean it wasn’t happening. 

Just because the war with Wutai was over didn’t mean Shinra didn’t want people dead. 

Just because Zack never showed how upset he got didn’t mean he was happy.

Zack was a Soldier. Soldiers killed people. They were the swords that Shinra pointed at enemies.

“I don’t mind blood,” Cloud whispered back. 

He shot an innocent man in the head and then hid the body. He was not pure enough to pass judgment.

Zack’s mako stained eyes lit with life again. They grew wide and then softened.

A small oh slipped out of Zack’s mouth, not defined enough to be counted as speech. 

“Hm?” Cloud made a noise of question in response.

“Nothing, nothing,” Zack said properly and waved his hands in the air as if to clear it. He sat up quickly. All the life that had drained out of him rushed back like a dam opening. 

“Want me to walk you back?” Zack picked up the bags to hand to Cloud who shook his head. 

“I’ll be okay,” Cloud nodded as they both walked to the door. 

They stood at the open door, not knowing exactly what to say. How do you say goodbye after Zack almost had a breakdown? 

“Text me when you get back to your room safely.” Is what Zack said finally. Cloud nodded his head and the cool air of the hallway cleaned out the cotton from his head. 

Back home safe 

:D 

Chapter Text

Anyone who said that secretarial work was easy had clearly never been a secretary. People saw a profession that spent most of its time behind a desk and assumed it was all phone calls and personal grooming. They were all very wrong. 

Cloud’s desk had become a clutter of schedules and sticky notes that more resembled a bird’s nest than any kind of system. There was a system to be clear. Cloud was just the only one who understood the organized chaos.
Did this drive the rest of the secretaries a little mad? Yes.

Did Cloud care? Not enough to change it.

On an average day Cloud started with emails that came in overnight, many from urban development and Science departments. They tended to keep the oddest hours. Most of his morning was emails because that then fed into what Bell’s schedule would end up being for the day. Appointments got created and shuffled around, his lunch sometimes turned into a meeting. Emails had started off as something Cloud thought should be a torture method, but corporate speak was a skill that needed practice like any other. It wasn’t unlike learning a new language to be truthful. Now after several months of doing the job, he was a fluent speaker and could very politely tell any pushy officer or middle manager to go fuck themselves. 

Throughout the day, Cloud also acted as the gatekeeper. His desk was right outside Bell’s office, and a few people go in and a few go told make an appointment. There was a bouquet of flowers from his wife and an email from his teenage son that got forwarded on. Bell’s family was the type of nice that sent holiday cards to their Dad or Husband’s secretary.  That was a novel experience. Cloud ended up asking Jackie what to do with it then avoided a depressing conversation about the fact he’d never received a card before. Turns out no one knew what to actually do with cards and it was different from person to person so Cloud made a nice little folder for cards in his filing cabinet. 

“Need you to run an errand down to the Science department. We’ve had some formal complaints about side effects from the new line of potions,” Bell placed a folder onto the desk that Cloud regarded as hot iron. 

“I have to physically go down there?” Cloud asked hesitantly. 

“Normally I wouldn’t have anyone under my care within a hundred feet of Hojo but I need this signed and returned. Hojo is smart medically but he’s hopeless with computers,” Bell said casually. It was striking to hear the boogey man money maker of Shinra spoken about so plainly. He had flaws like not understanding computers. It was a trait more fitting of aging parents rather than corporate department heads

“Could I get someone else to take this? I’ve got some calls to make and–” Cloud trailed off as Bell looked unamused. Cloud’s shoulders herded sheepishly around his ears.

“We all get over our fear of Hojo’s dungeon. Now go, I need those back before I go to lunch,” which was far more time that it took to just go down several floors. It was a blessing that he got time before having to go but that also gave him time to spiral. 

Turns out that Cloud wasn’t the only one at Shinra that avoided the Science department. Most people at Shinra treated the Science department like it was contaminated by infectious disease, sometimes it even was. 

Cloud bit the bullet and gathered up the folder.  

The journey down to Science was a simple affair in an unnerving way. Cloud imagined at least one panic attack as he got up from his desk and walked to the elevator and hit the button for basement. That wasn’t the case– nothing came.

It was just so ordinary.

He’d walked to this elevator a thousand times that his brain didn’t register anything weird. It was only as the elevation descended the anxiety started to rise. 

A task that was like brushing his teeth turned into brushing his teeth with an overly loose tooth and no dental insurance. Cloud was suddenly hyper aware of the clunk of every floor. He could imagine the cables that suspended the metal box and took it from floor to floor with terrifying clarity. People got on and off at their floors either unaware of Cloud’s mounting panic or simply hadn’t pushed past the social threshold from “polite to ignore for everyone’s sake” to “loud enough that someone needs to address it”.

The mounting sense of dread compounded the closer he got to the automatic sliding doors of the reception area of the Science department. It was a sterile waiting room easily mistaken for a doctor’s office room with some impersonal artwork and a fake plant that slightly needed dusting. 

“I have some papers that Dr. Hojo needs to sign from infantry,” Cloud held out his ID card for her to scan and rattled off his employee code. 

“He’s with the General right now, Marge will take you back. You’ll have to wait outside the room,” The receptionist said warmly as she probably filled out an appointment form on her screen. 

Cloud tried to ignore the ball of led forming in his chest. It sat almost like a physical presence tight and pushing on his ribs causing phantom pain. Cloud reached into his pocket and held his inhaler

He couldn’t rule out the possibility that he wasn’t the only one who knew this, but it did feel like he was alone in holding a piece of catastrophic knowledge. The existence of parallel worlds. On any given day, he could pretend like he didn’t know. He ignored the posters and the merchandising and went about his day. It faded into the background static of the day to day bustle. Now, he was on the same department as the Other Sephiroth. 

He really needed to find another name for him.

Marge was a harried looking woman in scrubs who shared a few traits in common with a tiger shark like she would die if she stopped moving and would bite anything food shaped that entered her mouth.  

“Hi, I’m Dr. Willance, please follow me,” Dr. Willance led Cloud through a locked set of doors with a vestibule in the middle then and through the white halls of the science department. It was a place that you could easily get lost as every hall and wall looked mind numbingly the same. His foot steps echoed as the loudest things in the hall. Her hair was in a tight bun and her smart sneakers made little noise as she walked. She looked very normal for someone that works in Science. Cloud almost opened his mouth for questions but thought better against it. 

“Hojo is my project lead. Yes, he’s as bad as people say. I work with him because Shinra pays me a salary with a lot of zeros in it to make sure someone with a slice of humanity will report him to ethic’s committee,” Dr. Willance said in rehearsed rapid fire. 

Cloud didn’t know Shinra had an ethics committee. That was like if fire had a wetness committee. 

Dr. Willance led Cloud through a few different halls that had no difference from one to another till she paused at a pair of large double doors with caution pattern around the edge. They opened after a quick slide of her badge and a thumb print scan to a open room. There was a central hub with several glass rooms along the walls with curtains for privacy. Several halls led deeper into what must be the Soldier Medical subsection of the science department.

“He’s not where I thought, annoying . Wait here, I’ll get him,” Dr. Willance left Cloud off to the side in front of a patient room away from the excitement.

 Nurses and doctors milled here and there and would suddenly move like they had places to be. Some medical jargon was thrown around but it might as well been Wutian. Cloud fiddled with the seam of his uniform. He fought to urge to fidget more visibly. People came and went looking at him with curiosity but never said anything until–

“What are you doing here? Its lunch break for the secretary pool, you look like you can’t afford to miss a meal honey,” A woman in scrubs with a below plate accent said looking up and down. Was it lunch already? Cloud ran his hand through his hair. 

“Um– Colonel Bell needed some papers signed by Dr. Hojo and Dr. Willance went to go get him,” Cloud forced his hands to be still and to look at the woman. She made a ‘tsk’ noise with her tongue then chased off with a purpose and grabbed something from a cart. 

“Here, eat. Normally, these are for Soldiers but if you’re hungry I say eat. It’s going to be a while if its Hojo you want. Name’s Tanya if you need anything, but please try not to need anything,” She handed him a plastic wrapped sandwich. 

“Yeah, of course– thank you,” Cloud felt like he’d just come out of a wind tunnel. The sandwich was kind of dry but it was stacked with ham and served a better lunch than he normally ate which was whatever he had in his room or what Zack thrusted on him. 

Cloud let his gaze wander lazily around the room to find something to focus on. Soldiers sat on beds getting patched up or taking medications or talking to staff. One was wheeled into a room in a wheel chair with a large wad of gauze on his leg. Another was getting stitches on his forehead. 

All male. 

There were theories why Soldier only let men get mako treatments. Some thought it was mako reacted badly with women’s biology, something about the levels of estrogen vs testosterone and bone density. Others said it disrupted “unit solidarity” and it was better to have all men. Both of those were bullshit. It probably was because President Shinra was a misogynist, but who’s to say.

That had been one of the reasons he never tried for Soldier. Maybe if he’d been a cis man he wouldn’t have given up on his dream.

Finally bored enough to be nosey– which was very bored– Cloud turned to sneak and see who’s room he was in front of. 

Oh.

He’d missed those eyes.

A wall of silver hair the same color of light hitting water and eyes that glowed pure green only interrupted by sharp pupils. 

It was Sephiroth, even if it wasn’t his Sephiroth.

Cloud smiled and waved in a hypnosis spell of nostalgia fueled stupidity. It felt like the most natural thing to do and his brain just abandoned all logical thought after seeing that face. 

It was only after he kind of smiled did Cloud see how sad he was. Something sat heavy in his frame, weighed on his shoulders that his Sephiroth had been relieved of. 

“Hello,” His voice was the same; deep and decadent in its timber.  

“Hi,” Cloud replied back. Talking to him wreaked havoc on Cloud’s sense of reality. He knew this man, but he didn’t. He’d spend hours with him, but he’s just meeting him. 

The lack of feathers was his anchor to cling onto. 

“You’re not afraid of me,” Sephiroth stated. He wasn’t. There was a lot of emotions going on but not fear. 

“Do you want me to be?” Cloud asked. His brain to mouth filter was experiencing a critical failure.  It had to be seeing the one person who he was really comfortable talking to outside of Zack for the first time in actual years. 

Except he wasn’t and this was a different person. 

“You’re also not–” He paused looking for a word “fawning,” 

“You’re getting blood work done, not exactly a good time to ask for an autograph,” Cloud replied. Sephiroth was sitting with a needle in his arm connected to an IV. Only the General would get his own private room for such a simple procedure. 

“Would you ask if it was a good time?” Sephiroth made no inflection with his body or his voice. 

“Probably not,” 

Cloud knew that Sephiroth had people asking things of him all day, he didn’t need one more person to put him on a pedestal higher than he normally was on. Flash back Ten years ago he would have been melting into a puddle of excitement. Now, at 25, nearly 26 and after several months with a much more unbalanced version of him, he wasn’t exactly itching for one. Kind of hard to hero worship a guy you’ve kind of seen fall face first into mud. 

Those eyes really were spectacular. Cloud avoided eye contact, but–

This was Sephiroth. 

He’d been dreading this meeting; waiting for it like the other shoe to drop and his life would devolve to madness. Or they would meet and Cloud would do something so idiotic they’d throw him out of the military all together. It was finally happening and Cloud wasn’t on some battlefield fighting for his life or spiraling with panic about his secret being exposed. He was just homesick.

“What’s your name?” Sephiroth asked. Cloud hesitated for the span of time it takes a bullet to enter an innocent man’s skull. That could end up being a dangerous question.

“Cloud Strife,” What else was there to say? 

Sephiroth made a thoughtful noise that Cloud wasn’t sure how to take. He had been told in the past that his name was strange before, but both versions didn’t seem the type to judge with a name like Sephiroth .

“I assume you know my name,” Sephiroth eyed Cloud. It wasn’t an arrogant assumption. It would be willfully ignorant to think people didn’t know it name at this point in his career and marketing campaign. Cloud tried to think of that life. People knowing things you never told them. Meeting someone and never knowing what they do and don’t know about you. It made the hairs on his neck prickle. 

“Well, you never told me so—,” Cloud put a coy tilt to his voice and hoped his gamble came off playful and not annoying. His fears were soothed when Sephiroth laughed soft and velvety like the tip of a dog’s ear. 

“I’m Sephiroth, it’s nice to meet you,” He said with a touch of fondness. Cloud hoped it really was nice to meet him. If this Sephiroth’s childhood was anything close to His Sephiroth’s— his Valkyrie he decided—he really needed more nice things in his life. 

“Cloud Strife,” Sephiroth said with a question to himself. 

“Yes?” Cloud replied because his name was said. 

“You’re Zack’s friend,” he said in realization of how exactly he knew Cloud. 

“Yeah, I am,” Cloud said more to himself. He was Zack’s friend and he was okay if that’s how people knew him. 

“He talks about you at length. Said that I make you nervous but I’m seeing evidence to the contrary,” Sephiroth didn’t purr like most would catching someone in a lie— probably because Cloud hadn’t lied when he said he wasn’t afraid— but was curious. Cloud wasn’t sure if it was curious like a recon scout or curious like a scientist with a new germ. 

“You’re a lot less intimidating in person,” Cloud admitted. 

“Never such a sentiment has ever been applied to me. Less Intimidating?” Sephiroth flicked his hair out of his face. 

“All the press stuff makes you look taller— and scarier. Up close, you’re kind of just a person,” Cloud hoped he explained that well enough. It was circular logic at its finest but there was no better way to explain he’s seen that face break down in tears. That he’d seen him be snobbish about tea and treat 20 year old wind chimes with the gentleness of a live bomb. 

“Just a person,” Sephiroth repeated like a philosopher pondering a great existential question 

“Did I insult you? Or- say something wrong?” Cloud was now very aware that this was the most superior officer there was and Cloud had let all decorum fall to the gutter in his homesick haze.   

“Come here,” He commanded. Cloud stepped forward without hesitation. 

Sephiroth reached for him then pulled something from the standard-issue red bandana. 

His dog tags. 

Sephiroth turned them over reading both sides then let them fall and Cloud remembered to breathe. 

“Here are those papers- General Sephiroth sir!” Dr. Willance snapped taut and would probably have saluted if she was military. 

“Hello, I believe I’ve recovered from the procedures and this is no longer necessary,” Sephiroth gestured to the IV in his arm.  Dr. Willance shoved Cloud’s clipboard into his chest and rapidly started agreeing that it was time to get the IV out. Cloud slipped out, not failing to notice the eyes that followed him out. 

The feeling of homesickness did not go away, which was a problem. An annoying problem. It was a stupid emotion that was nothing more than a massive inconvenience. 

“You’re supposed to eat the pizza not pick it apart,” Zack mimed taking a bite. That made Cloud want to hit him. He wasn’t in the best of moods and the antics didn’t have nearly the charm they normally did. 

“Wow that’s a glare, message received,” Zack backed off a few inches with a look of concern. 

“Oh I know that look, used to get the some one when he had to stay out passed dark,” Tifa smiled as she topped up their waters. 

“Are you just tired or something?” Zack took a sip, his attention turned to Cloud with concern. Cloud wished he was just tired. Tired was easy. Tired was fixable. 

There was no simple cure to homesickness. 

Actually there was one: Alcohol. 

However, it was a work night so not a drinking one.

Cloud sighed with his whole chest then pushed his food away. 

He hadn’t even wanted to go out on their usual Friday night dinner at 7th heaven. He wanted to go home to Sephiroth and his mom and his mountain. If he couldn’t have that, being alone in his room was the next best option. 

“Cloud, c’mon man talk to me,” Zack guided Cloud to look at him. He didn’t grab so much as gently pushed his chin to look. It sent a silent shiver down his spine. 

Zack had always been touchy but this was new. He had that boyish smile that charmed even the most married of secretaries in the pool. It was his secret weapon and wielded it with skill.

“I’m just homesick,” Cloud admitted lowering his head to lay on his folded arms.

“For Nibelheim?” Tifa questioned, doubtful. It wasn’t unwarranted based on the glimpse she got of his childhood. Children had the same capacity for cruelty as adults. They were just more direct about it. 

“Its still home, despite everything,” Cloud looked at her now. Her expression was sour battened down by polite neutrality. 

“It’s something,” She looked away from them into the restaurant hiding her bitterness like the sourness. Another table called her and she gave them a lazy wave goodbye before returning to her sugary fakeness used to pry tips from wallets. 

“So–” Zack began awkwardly. “I actually invited a friend to join us but today probably isn’t the best day to try and introduce you two,”
His hand drifted up to tangle in his black mullet. Nervous energy buzzed looking for an outlet, the fidgeting only acting as a small pressure valve. Zack was clearly up a creek now. 

Cloud sunk into his seat a little ignoring the better sense telling him this position would mess up his back.

“Its fine, is this a friend or a friend ,” Cloud knew Zack had friends and then people who knew Soldier Fair. 

“She’s cool I promise, grows flowers in a church kind of cool,” Zack assured. Was growing flowers in a church considered cool? 

“Hi Ho!” A voice called at the door. 

“Aerith!” 

A girl with auburn hair and emerald green eyes waved at them with cheerful energy. 

Blood soaked her dress from a gaping wound in the center of her chest. Everyone went on their day like normal. No one looked or screamed or called for a doctor about the blood that spread further and dropped onto the floor. 

She smiled like nothing was wrong. 

Cloud rubbed his eyes violently. 

There was no blood. No hole in her chest. 

“Woah, are you good? I know she’s pretty but–” Zack started and tried to figure out where, if at all, to touch Cloud in order to provide some kind of physical comfort.
“I’m fine,” Cloud bit out. 

Zack frowned but dropped it instead turned to look at Aerith. 

“So, you’re the Cloud I’ve heard so much about,” She dropped into the seat next to Zack. 

Aerith greeted them like a tornado not waiting for them to adjust and jumped directly into conversation with no concern for small talk. 

“Zack talks about me?” Cloud bunkered down to weather the next thirty to forty minutes of this person. 

“Yeah! He talks all about–” She started but was stopped by Zack’s hand shoved into her face. 

“Hey, let talk about something else– literally anything else,” Zack had a hoard of embarrassing secrets, the surprising part was this one involved Cloud . 

“Aeris, you grow flowers in a church?” Cloud took pity.

“Aerith,” She said making her tonged pushing on the back of her front teeth for the “th” sound visible. 

“Aerith,” Cloud repeated and got a little thumbs up. 

“Yup, 

It felt wrong. Even though he just met her and hadn’t worked her name into his mouth saying it the incorrect way, the correct way just didn’t click into place. 

“Aerith, you sell flowers?” Cloud leaded on the only information he had on her to make some kind of small talk. 

“Mhmm, in a church close by actually. Lilies,” She stole some of Cloud’s picked apart pizza and ate. 

Wind rushing in his ears. Wood breaking and a hard landing. The smell of lilies. 

Cloud felt his stomach roil. 

“Why lilies?” Cloud felt himself ask. 

“Its just what grows there,” She spoke around her stolen pizza. 

“We gotta go visit one day, like real actual flowers in the ground in Midgar,” Zack smiled making wild gestures with his hands and grabbing Cloud’s shoulder. His brain whined about the contact but Cloud forced himself to ignore it. 

“How? I though anything that grew had to be on soil from somewhere else?” Cloud asked. Midgar had an entire district dedicated to greenhouses growing crops on imported soil. 

“Yeah! That’s the crazy part,” Zack grinned widely clearly showing off.

“People buy the flowers?” Cloud wasn’t sure what the floral industry was like below the plate, but Cloud had neve once bought flowers here or in nibelheim. Maybe he should buy flowers.

“If I spin it right,” Aerith’s demeanor changed from sweet and cute to scheming. Both of them looked expectantly at her. 

“Oh Mr. don’t you want to buy a flower for your lovely wife? From the poor little girl from the slums,” Aerith fluttered her eyelashes and pitched her voice up an octave. “Its only 100 gil. Its all about how you spin it,” 

Cloud stayed silent about that. Nibelheim didn’t care much for economic classes. They tended to be an after thought. You could be poor as dirt but if your family did something great twenty years ago then you still had political sway. 

Aerith and Zack bantered back and forth swapping stories and jokes. Cloud sat quiet unable to get the vision of blood out of his eyes. His back had a phantom ache from a fall he never took. The last time something like this happened could be excused as a fluke nightmare, his brain mixing adrenaline and borrowed faces. The subconscious mind wandered in strange ways, but this time he was wide awake. Was he finally loosing his mind? 

Cloud shot to his feet nearly hitting the table in the process. The barracks were better. He could have a private break down there; contemplate the validity of his sanity. 

Sanity. 

He lost that when he dragged a man with a bird wing through the snow.

“I’m going to head home, nice meeting you Aeris,” the wrong name slipped through his teeth and only after it was out did Cloud realize he said it at all. 

“Oh- okay, I was hoping we could all go grab desert or something,” Zack petered off at the end into disappointed quiet. Aerith looked between the two of them with furrowed eye brows and the corners of her mouth pinched. 

“Maybe some other time,” Cloud muttered trying to break out of the situation and just leave . 

The air was still warm even late into the evening. Summer made under the plate become sweltering as the hot metal above radiated heat down during the day and kept it warm even as the evening settled in. 

“Hey! Wait up!” Aerith called from the direction of the restaurant. 

“What,” Cloud snapped maybe a little too harshly.

“I– I don’t know actually,” She looked at the ground concerned.

“It was nice meeting you,” It wasn’t but that would have be rude to say “I’m going now,”
Cloud left Aerith in her fog of confusion standing in front of the restaurant. He didn’t need more people complicating his life. He was fine.

Chapter Text

Cloud held the letter to his nose and breathed deeply. It was folded precisely, with a confident, clean crease in the middle. The smell of home in the summer lingered on the paper thanks to the pine needles in the envelope. Home was pine and soil and just a hit of Mako. The smell of Mako was easy to get in Midgar, but the pine not so much. Cloud brought the needles up to his nose. Instead of the gentle waft of scent that had clung to the letter, smelling the direct needles had the full impact of the forest smell. Air fresheners, try as they might in labs, could never capture the real deal. Setting the needles aside, Cloud reached for the new letters. They came in sets of three. Sephiroth wrote about his current projects in the house–

The renovations are being completed on schedule. I plan to order glass panes in the fall to replace the windows. 

And outside it. 

I’ve started a garden. Three kinds of herbs: oregano, rosemary, and thyme. Wild roosters have made their home nearby with a flock of feral hens. I am attempting to gain their trust.

Other times, he just wanted to express his feelings; he was getting better at that.

The house is too quiet. I find myself with long hours to contemplate my place in the world. 

Most letters had something from home in them, like pine needles or pressed flowers, once a spray of mom’s old perfume, but on occasion, he sent one that smelled only like him. Silly visions of Sephiroth rubbing the paper on his neck always popped into his head when one like that arrived. There was no good way to describe how someone smelled, no clear way to pin down what the scent was because it was a mixture of everything. It just simply smelled like Sephiroth. His script was still so neat it looked like a typewriter, and his wording was still kind of stiff. Cloud didn’t care about that. He was just happy to hear from home.

On the nightstand, his phone buzzed. Cloud placed the letter in the box 

Message from: Zack

You home?

Yeah?

Cool come over

What?  

I have a thing for you

?

Dude just open the door when I get there. 

Cloud squinted at his phone. He’d still do it, but he’d be huffy about being ordered around. 

Zack knocked on the door in a short pattern a couple of minutes after his text. A short travel time was a nice perk of living in the same building. Even if it was much easier for Zack to go down than for Cloud to go up. 

“Hey!” He announced, holding up armfuls of shopping bags and a slow cooker in his arms. The plastic strained against the weight of the contents. 

Cloud let Zack in and he set all the stuff down on one of the drawer dressers. 

“So you’re homesick right? Well after you hightailed it out of Kalm last night at the bar–” Cloud sunk into himself a little, Zack carried on, “Tifa gave me a recipe from Nibelheim. I’ve got all the ingredients all it needs to do in cook in this! Since you don’t have a kitchen I needed something that I could just bring to your room so you didn’t have to leave,”
Zack rambled as he took all the ingredients. 

“I could have gone to your room,” Cloud stood still suddenly feeling like a bother. 

“You could have, and I could have asked before inviting Aerith to our Friday night out. Its fine,” Zack didn’t look at him, instead focusing on putting together ingredients. Cloud rubbed his arms trying to get the buzzing feeling out of them. Zack going out of his way like this wasn’t necessary. It would have just been easier to gone to his room and done this there instead of having to jerry-rig how to cook in a room barely mean to be slept in. 

“I’m going to shower, is that okay?” Cloud had already planned to before Zack had barreled into the afternoon. A shower was the little piece of privacy he needed before tackling the idea of cooking in a room without a kitchen and only half a sink. 

“Its your room,” Zack raised his eyebrows for emphasis.

That was true but what were the rules for this situation? Was it secretly rude and no one told him because he’s magically supposed to know? Would it be weird to technically be naked with only a closed door between them? This is why he liked work, he knew the rules at work.

Cloud’s bathroom was small but serviceable. He avoided looking at himself in the mirror then quickly scrubbed his hair and skin while there was still precious hot water. He used the bar of conditioner that Sephiroth sent last winter. It was the size of a larger than normal bar of soap in Cloud’s palm. He Cloud had been saving for special occasions as it was leagues above what was both available in Midgar and affordable. This wasn’t a special occasion, but Zack was in his room so might as well smell the best he could.  

Cloud got out and dried off then slipped on his boxers and pants but decided to forgo a shirt till his hair stopped dripping. Going shirtless long lost its novelty years ago, but the top surgery scars were too expensive not to show off. 

“Hey– Hey,” Zack did a double take. 

Cloud blinked at him. The anxiety he’d managed to scrub off flared up again like a rash.  There had been no signs that Zack thought anything negative about trans people, but there was nothing to indicate he was okay with them either. The topic had never even come up.
“Gnarly scars,” Zack motioned to the same place on himself. 

“Yeah, chopping off your tits will do that,” Cloud snipped. His instinct for sarcasm fought with the growing self consciousness. Maybe it was a defense mechanism. 

“Why would you do that, tits are great,” Zack wasn’t messing with ingredients anymore. He lounged on the bed boneless. The slow cooker had been set on the dresser and programmed for two hours on high. Cloud squinted at him. 

“Not on me they’re not,” Cloud murmured. Zack exploded into a flurry of swinging limbs. The momentum pulled him up into a sitting position on the bed. The light sleepiness that had settled over him had been shook off at high velocity. His black spikes of hair stuck out at odd angles– odder angles. 

“Um–,” Zack said slightly breathless. “Sure, your body dude,”
Cloud ignored his sudden weirdness and worked on drying his hair quickly. As strange as Zack’s reaction was, it wasn't bad. That’s what counted in the end. He seemed more confused about why anyone would see boobs as a bad thing which was kind of funny. Very meat head soldier of him. Boobs always seemed out of place on him, like they were tacked on as an afterthought right at the end in a rush job. Cloud’s hair was dry enough so he grabbed a shirt from one of the drawers. Soft fingers touched his flank. Cloud curved away like the north pole of a magnet repelling from the south pole. 

“Sorry!” Zack jerked back as well. He stared down at his hand like it had acted on its own. 

“What?” Cloud snapped. He had been saying that a lot today. 

“That’s just a bad scar– and I wasn’t thinking,” Zack ran his fingers through his hair and studied the bed sheets. Cloud looked down at the scar on his side. It was one of the worse ones and one of the first. 

“I think I was six or something. Some kids put a firework in my house’s wood pile and it went off and well–”  The rest went unsaid. The five days in a hospital went unsaid. The 2 weeks of bandages and wound care went unsaid. Cloud shoved his head through the neck hole rough enough to stretch it out a bit. He adjusted the shirt with a few harsh tugs till it sat right. Zack’s expression turned sour. 

Both of them lingered in the silence that followed. This was why he didn’t share stories from his childhood. 

“It was nice meeting Aerith yesterday, I was having an off day,” Cloud shrugged dismissively. His bad mood didn’t need to be a big deal. Neither Zack nor Aerith had done anything to deserve his piss poor behavior.

“Really? That’s great, I was sure that you didn’t like her,” Zack smiled big and bright, quickly turning 180 in his mood. That was better. 

“Aerith was the kind of girl I wanted to be at one point in my life. Cute, funny, smart,” Cloud sat next to Zack, leaning back on his hands. Aerith had flaws just like everyone else even if Cloud hadn’t seen them yet, but she was so close the Idea Girl that existed in 10 year old Cloud’s head. If he could embody this vague idea of what Girl was then all the long hair and being called “young lady” would finally stick correctly. The unfortunate part was even for those born girls and those who figured it out later there was no right way to be Girl. Everyone was blindly trying to agree on what Girl was while enforce what it wasn’t. 

“You are cute, funny, and smart,” Zack blurted out. The words spoken out like gravity had forced them to fall. Cloud turned to look over across the bed where Zack was perched. He seemed just as surprised to say the word as Cloud was to hear them. 

“But like– in a manly way,” Zack winced. The attempt to save the previous comment was a sinking ship from the moment it was in the water. That did raise the question of how was someone cute ‘in a manly way’? 

Zack thought he was cute .

“I’m going to check on the food,” it was the only way to run away without physically leaving the room. The latches came undone with a loud snap. They peered into the open crockpot into what can only be described as A Mess. Uncooked dough sat on top bubbling and upon scooping some out, black char covered the bottom. The icing on the awfulness was the smell. Why did it smell sweet ? There was nothing sweet in there.

“Damn it, I was really trying to get this right,” Zack actually pouted, running his hand through his dark hair. 

This was hands down, no competition the worst nibelheim pie that Cloud had ever seen or smelled. It technically couldn’t be called the worst tasting because he was not going to eat that thing. Doing that might have killed him. This wasn’t food, it was a biohazard.

It was barely a twitch of his lip at first, but it grew bigger until Cloud was laughing with his whole chest so hard his throat hurt from trying to suck in air. 

“No- no this-” Cloud snorts through his laughter, “This is perfect. The thought in it– you tried so hard. Thank you,” Cloud looked fondly at the pie, at the effort that went into it, even if it was probably a new form of pesticide. His attention turned back to Zack who looked nothing short of struck dumb.  

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile for real,” Zack whispered. 

“I don’t have a lot to smile about,” Cloud whispered back; he ran his finger along the cooled dish the pie sat in. “People don’t normally put effort into me like this,” 

Zack’s heart broke in real time. Cracks formed around the edges of his expression as they got bigger his better nature fell away to anger. His eyebrows met as they furrowed. The muscles in his neck went taut with a clenched jaw. Calloused hands held Cloud’s like fine porcelain. 

“You’re always worth the effort,” Zack pleaded. 

“I mean– sometimes yeah, but-” Cloud shifted his gaze anywhere but the green eyes that looked at him with such intense emotion. Cloud didn’t think so poorly of himself to believe that no one would ever put in effort. He was just being realistic. Zack interrupted before he finished.

“ Always, ” Zack squeezed tighter, like that would get the point across more clearly. " Always" was a stretch, Cloud was stubborn and bad with people and killed a person out of panic. 

“Zack , ” Cloud chided. 

“You’re always worth my effort.” A strange sadness had settled in Zack’s eyes. Cloud swallowed something thick in his throat that tasted like the beginning of tears. 

“ Zack ,” Cloud said again with more embarrassment. This was too much attention on him. Zack was zeroed in on him like a dog hunting a bird. If Sephiroth had taken a sledgehammer to his trust issues, Zack had been chipping at them with a chisel. 

He didn’t know. Zack didn’t know about the person he’d made into a corpse, the Valkyrie in his home, the destiny of his family. 

“You don’t know that, th-there’s a lot about me you don’t know! What if I’ve done something terrible?” It was Cloud’s turn to plead as he tried to take back his hands. He had done something terrible. Instead of letting them go, Zack pulled him in closer. Now flush, chest to chest, Zack pulled Cloud’s hands to cup his own face. His face was smooth with no hint of stubble or left over teenage acne. A cloud passed over the sun casting the room into a darkness with the blinds closed. Zack’s eyes casted a soft green glow into his lashes.

“There’s no way your sins could possibly outnumber mine,” Zack spoke into Cloud’s palm, jaded and bitter. Cloud was sure he’d known how to speak once, but now holding the face of the best man he could think of, there wasn’t any words in his brain.

“My gods don’t keep a ledger,” Cloud braved looking into those bright eyes that now welled with tears. They were glossy and wide showing off the soul behind them. How bright it was.

“Fuck it,” A large hand slid itself into the blond hair at the base of Cloud’s neck. 

Zack’s lips were chapped from a dry summer. His gentle grip tensed while sighing through his nose; Cloud was a cold drink of water and Zack a man dying in the desert.

Oh gods, Oh Goddess. 

Zack was kissing him. 

After a small bite to his bottom lip Zack pulled away dazed as if drunk on the feeling.

Zack kissed him. 

Oh Gods. Oh thunder and mountain and frost. 

What was he supposed to do now? 

Cloud coughed hard. He couldn’t seem to suck in air. His chest clenched in a familiar tightness. 

“Inhaler, Bag–” Cloud choked out, doubling over to cough more. 

Zack snapped into action and dumbed out the bag to find the inhaler. 

Puff, inhale, hold, hold, breath out. 

A few weaker coughs fought their way out but the painful vice grip was passing.

“Is an asthma attack after kissing you good?” Zack awkwardly smiled. 

“Do not fucking make me laugh,” Cloud bit out in pain still doubled over. 

Zack rushed off somewhere and when he came back the slightly toothpaste-encrusted plastic cup of water from the bathroom. It was pressed into Cloud’s hand who was still wheezing. Drinking was a balancing act of trying not to do too much too fast and also trying not to cough through the water. They both sat there in silence, Cloud didn’t have a choice if he spoke or not. The medication made it to were he could breath, but it didn’t reverse the fact that his airways had just seized and were now raw and inflamed. Cloud sat on the floor. He did the best he could to breath deeply. Zack fiddled on his phone.

“I ordered pizza,” he sounded small. He was a lot of things. So many things that very few people could claim they really knew him but out of every hat or title that Zack wore – small wasn’t one of them. It was Cloud’s job to be quiet and scared. 

“Sorry,” Cloud rasped out. He took the blame out of pure habit.

“Don’t be, wasn’t like you asked me to kiss you then to have an asthma attack about it,” Zack didn’t–maybe couldn’t –look at Cloud which was somehow worse. 

“Why,” Cloud paused to attempt to swallow down the gathering nerves, “Why would you kiss me?” 

The sigh that Zack huffed was all the louder for the heavy silence in the room. The room they were both in, but Zack had retreated into a world all his own that had no entry point.

“The worst part is that you genuinely mean that,” Zack laughed weakly.

 A chasm had split open between them in the space of that kiss. Cloud didn’t know how to cross it. 

“I can’t be anymore obvious, I really can’t. Please don’t make me say it,” Zack pleaded. Not in the goofy, playful way when he joked with his friends or was trying to get someone to make bad decisions with him. This was the end of a desperate and frayed rope.

“I don’t understand,” Cloud whispered. Zack was his friend, his first friend really, and he’d managed to hurt him by doing absolutely nothing. 

“Then let me kiss you again. I’m sorry I didn’t ask before. I’m asking now. Can I kiss you,”  Zack begged. He was begging.

He shifted his body so that he was looking at Cloud leaned forward, braced on his palms, the short rough carpet probably digging in red indentations. His green eyes swallowed up the room leaving nothing else to look at. Nowhere to hide. For once in his life, Cloud had clear choice. If he said no, then no. If he said yes, then yes. It was terrifying– invasive. Power he didn’t know how to wield.

Then the room came back into frame, the green eyes and Zack feel backward. His hands came up to hide his face. Zack said something muffled into them in a language that definitely wasn’t Common. 

Gongagan. Zack cursed in it sometimes.

“We really are both bastards,” Zack said clearly with his hands away from his face. He was laid out on his back, focused on the blank ceiling. 

“Why am I a bastard?” Cloud found his voice deep in the back of his throat. He hadn’t done anything in this situation. Zack was the one who kissed him.

“You’re so dedicated to your own self-hatred you don’t even know you’re in love, and I’m too selfish not to try and take you from him,” Zack whispered. 

“What do you mean– him?” Cloud whispered back. It was a redundant question. 

“Don’t leave your mail out in the open,” Zack made a vague tired gesture at the box. 

Fuck. 

Fuck.

“Valkyrie is the one that made that scarf isn’t he? The roommate,” Zack didn’t wait for an answer, “He’s head over heels for you and you him, but you never say it. You never mention a relationship. There’s no ‘I love you’ in those letters. That plus you’re too good of a person to cheat on someone equals that you’re not in a relationship. Are you?”
“No,” Cloud said voice almost too shaky to speak properly. He was dizzy from looking up to watch the tower of lies fall apart around him. Zack stopped speaking. Cloud didn’t know for how long, the dread warped his sense of time. It could have been thirty seconds or five minutes. It didn’t matter. His heart raced to the point of pain in his chest the entire time.

“If neither of you will say it then I will. I love you,” His voice tilted up at the end with the edges of mania.   Zack said it like it was true. The declaration cut through Cloud so sharply he didn’t even register the pain of it till a few seconds later. 

“No you don’t,”  

“You don’t get to make that decision for me,” The slowly building momentum that threatened to swallow Zack soured to anger.

He didn’t need to. It was obvious what would happen If all the lies and secrets and the lengths that he would go to keep them really came out. 

“There are things you don’t know–” Cloud started.

“Oh goddess, you keep saying that. Anything you’ve done, I promise you I’ve done worse. What did you that was so bad? Kill someone?” 

It wasn’t supposed to be serious. An exaggeration. Something so out of the realm of possibility used for effect. The nail bent when it was hit right on the head. 

“Yes,” 

Zack froze. 

“Right before the reactor was attacked. He worked for Shinra, too. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time and saw something he shouldn’t have. So I killed him,” 

Cloud finally said it out loud. Nauseating panic grew in his gut like the spines of a cactus. He’d just pulled the pin on a grenade without knowing if it was armed or not.

“That’s–” Zack started. Cloud waited guiltily for sentencing, “I can’t judge you, maybe someone like Aerith or Tifa could but I went to Wutai. I will have to live with what happened there– the lives I destroyed forever, but I won’t bury myself in grief. It won’t open the lifestream,” This wasn’t the condemnation Cloud had been bracing– almost hoping for. It wasn’t the absolution of guilt he’d never believe either. Zack had rejected the job of deciding all together. 

“Zack,” He answered the plea and gathered up Cloud in his arms. His hair smelled like bargain brand shampoo and was still damp. The clothes he wore where worn threadbare meaning he felt the intense warmth that Zack put off. He held him till the shaking stopped and the grief falling down his face dried up.  Cloud pushed away anyone who got too close out of fear of judgment, both legal and emotional. There were so many lost chances to have friends and acceptance after years of rejection in a small minded town. Zack looked into the ugly face of the truth and decided he wasn’t any better. 

The leftover lies tied his viscera into braided knots. What a horrible shame he still didn’t know who the Valkyrie was. If he had, maybe Cloud could bask in the feeling of Zack’s strong arms; the steady drum of his heart beat. 

“What do I do now?” He was afraid, but not of Zack, but of the future. What did he do with these emotions thrusted into his care? 

“You eat pizza,” Zack stood. That sounded as good an idea as any.

“Hey wait! You went through my mail!”
“You left it out!”

Chapter Text

Their relationship had, for all intents and purposes, survived the ordeal of confessing romantic feelings unchanged. Cloud was still shy and a little prickly and Zack was still resolved to hug him anyway. 

The only thing that had changed was the sheer amount of questions. 

“So ‘Valkyrie’, how did you get that name?” Zack wailed on a punching bag. Each hit echoed in the gym like thunder.

“Valkyries in Nibelheim are responsible for guiding warriors off to the afterlife. When I first met him I thought–” I was dying . Cloud caught the words before they could get away from him. That would only cause more questions and concern, “he was beautiful. Valkyries are always beautiful,” 

It wasn’t untrue. 

Zack stopped his punching and rested his forehead on the bag with a groan. 

“What?” Cloud heart rate picked up. He still said the wrong thing even after trying to be considerate. 

“Dude, that is so fucking romantic,” Zack’s forehead left a sweaty spot on the bag

“Oh,” Cloud hadn’t meant it to be, but that’s a win– he guessed.

“It’s all the Loveless you read, it’s rotting your brain,” Zack teased, tutting his finger like a mother scolding a child. 

“Being romantic is a sign of brain rot?” Cloud raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah dog, why do you think I can have someone's tongue in my mouth then call them bro. It's because my brain hasn’t been eaten by ancient poetry,” Zack rapped his knuckles on his head to show how ‘intact’ his brain was.

“I think that might be the Mako,” there was no link between Mako and brain damage, but there was a first for everything.

“Don’t give the Mako credit for what is my homegrown sparkling personality. That’s stolen valor or something,” Zack wailed on the punching bag again. 

“Not sure that’s something you want to take credit for and that’s not what stolen valor means,” Cloud replied. Zack mocked him light heartedly with a little mouth made from his hand.   

“What’s his real name anyway?” Zack undid the hand wraps that protected his knuckles. A red alarm went off in Cloud’s brain. All systems are on high alert! Mayday! Mayday! Lying again was the last thing he wanted to do. 

A slightly damp strip of cloth hit Cloud in the face. 

“Zack! That’s gross!” Cloud threw back the sweaty hand wrap while wrinkling his nose in disgust. Zack just laughed at his misery and grabbed the wrap back from where it had been flung. 

“Yeah, but it was funny,” Zack grinned not at all apologetic. 

“For you! Its all sweaty, ugh,” Cloud smacked him which was a mistake because Zack’s arm was also sweaty. Cloud shook his hand in the air to get the sweat off to no effect then just rubbed in on his jeans. 

“I’ve got like, fifteen minutes left if that clock is right, then we can go hang at my place,” Zack took a big drink of water from a bottle then rewrapped his hands. 

“Yeah, sure,” Cloud swung his feet a little. The back of his heels hit against the stack of mats he was sat on. The thunder of fist against bag started up again. 

Zack rarely had his hair up, something about personal image and branding. In private like this on the Soldier floor’s gym was the exception. Even up in a ponytail, short baby hairs managed to escape and stick to his forehead and back of the neck from the sweat. He was in an old shirt with the sleeves cut off and large spots around the collar were darker from sweat as well. This training wasn’t about strengthening, but rather the exact opposite. A normal Soldier would punch that bag right off its chain, but not every situation called for a punch strong enough bend metal. This exercise was about control.  

Bang! BangBang! Went fist against bag.

Zack was laser focused, muscles tightened like a spring ready to release. 

Bang! BangBang! Went fist against bag.

Each hit was precision placed all in the same exact spot. Zack stuck the bag and struck it again as it swung toward him. 

Bang! BangBang! Went a fist against his house's door. Angry voices of Nibelheim residents yelling at them to get out. Go up the mountain where they belonged. 

The tips of Cloud’s fingers went numb. No matter how hard he pressed there wasn’t any sensation. He tried again and again to push the blood and nerves back into his hands to replace the static fuzz. 

Two large wrapped hands covered Cloud’s in a blanket of warmth he could only feel in his palm. Up close there were several thin scars that littered over his second and first knuckles. 

“Hey,” a simple greeting said with more care and warmth than it warranted, “I lost you there for a second. Are you okay?” Zack tilted his head to the side. He pumped off heat and was still short of breath. 

“Um–” Cloud’s head was too foggy to lie, “I can’t feel my hands. The noise,” 

He’d been listening to the impact for almost an hour. Why was it panicking him now? The memory of the actual event was fuzzy, it was so long ago, but the fear was crystal clear. 

“Okay, I’m going to sit here and hold your hands,” Zack spoke in a hushed tone barely above a whisper. The gym was empty, only the soft whir of the AC unit. Each breath of quiet pushed static out and sensation in. It went on like that for a moment. A deep breath, then static out, blood in. Hot shame colored Cloud’s cheeks. He hid in the hollow of Zack’s collar bone.

“I keep freaking out on you,” He whispered. Half the time they hung out some old memory was triggered or his anxiety flared or he didn’t get some stupid social cue. Each time Zack patiently waited it out. It had to get annoying after the third panic attack. 

“I don’t mind,” Zack said. He was just being nice. Their relationship was too fragile to be truthful. Cloud made an unconvinced noise. 

“I think you feel safe around me, that's why you panic, because subconsciously you know that I’ll help or you won’t be punished. I like that. I like that I make you feel safe,” Zack petted Cloud’s hair. 

Cloud never thought of himself as safe. His house, his livelihood, his dignity, the list went on. None of it was certain. There was always something to lose. He’d never realized that Zack had crossed himself off that list. 

“Feel better?” Zack leaned back and pulled away Cloud’s hiding spot. 

“Tired,” Cloud admitted. 

 “Lets head back,”

Cloud was mostly back to baseline by the time they got to Zack’s room. This tension in his arms had relaxed and the rabbit-like feeling of wanting to bolt in the underbrush had faded.

“Make yourself at home, you know,” Zack waved him off while he changed out of sweaty clothes then sat down at his desk to grade papers. Cloud often forgot that Zack’s job on base was to teach. In turn, Zack forgot Cloud was a secretary and not normal infantry so it all evened out. 

“How are they doing?” Cloud asked, sitting on the bed. Soldier 3rds had to pass entry level college classes as part of the training. It was basic foundations for duties they would have to fulfill in the field later.

“They’re stupid but that’s normal,” Zack graded with a glittery pink pen. 

“That inspires confidence about the Soldier Program,” Cloud snarked. If he could be sarcastic then he really was feeling better. Zack shrugged.

“These guys don’t always have a lot of schooling. I barely knew how to read and write when I entered the program. It's why Angeal mentored me,” Zack put some stacks of paper aside. 

“Really? How did you get through basic training?” Asthma plus being short made him a very easy and a popular target for bullying. Even though Cloud ran all the same drill, slept on the same shitty mattresses, and endured all the same abuse; suffering didn’t always build comradery. The only thing that was good about Basic was getting out.

“I didn’t. Good Mako aptitude scores plus prodigy at sword play bumped me right into Pre-Soldier classes. It was only then did they care to ask if I could write anything past my name and read anything that didn’t have to do with construction. Dad was a carpenter and mom did glass blowing. Dad wasn’t a great reader himself and mom didn’t have the time to teach me. Don’t get me wrong they were both amazing parents, just busy,” Zack had stopped grading to talk.  

“What about local schools?” Cloud asked. Even he’d gone to some school in the small three room school house that Nibelheim had.

“Not a thing in Gongaga. You either got taught by your parents or someone else in the town,” Zack didn’t seem even slightly ashamed of his lack of education. Cloud had been miserable in school. Even if his mom hadn’t died it was a matter of when he dropped out not if .

“I dropped out in year 10. I was 16. My Ma got sick and wasn’t getting better. One day, she had to go into town and the cold was just too much for her system. Couldn’t actually have a funeral for her till spring when the ground thawed,” Cloud fought back the urge to cry. He’d found her dead and ended up wandering all through town balling– crying for help because his mother had just died and he wasn’t strong enough to carry her. Tifa’s dad was the only one who finally came out to help after Cloud had gone horse in the middle of the square.

“We have a similar problem during the rainy season. Ground could get so waterlogged it basically becomes marshland. Really hard to bury someone,” Zack booted up a desktop and opened some program and started entering in the grades he’d just done. He didn’t apologize or offer sympathy for Cloud’s mom. He just took it as it was– information. It wouldn’t bring her back nor did it actually make Cloud feel any better about her death. 

“What about your dad?” Zack asked. 

“Wasn’t really in the picture,” Cloud shrugged. His dad was a non-issue. His name was Kellin, he left before his mom could tell him about her pregnancy, and that was that. Cloud refused to miss a hypothetical relationship. Zack didn’t dig further. There wasn’t any deeper to dig. 

“You did reactor work after that?” Zack clicked a save button then got out a new stack of paper and a new tab on the program. 

“Yup, it was work.” That was the best that could be said about that era of his life. 

“I was 13 when I joined Shinra. 16 when I got sent to Wutai for my first tour under Angeal,” When Cloud buzzed when he was nervous, Zack froze. Heat leads to expansion and cold leads to contraction. The same proved true for Zack. He pulled his knees in and sat up. He took up less space. 

“It was the first time I really understood what I was getting into. There was this– ” Zack breathed out shakily. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Cloud had decided to be open about the blood on his hands. When he confessed, he wanted a judge, jury, and executioner. Wanted someone to finally validate his guilt when Sephiroth hadn’t, but If he’d told Zack to fuck off, no doubt that would have been the end of it. There was no obligation to give anything back. 

“I want to. You were honest with me,” Zack bit out sharply with a sense of urgency. 

“There was this woman– Wutian. I was on my own. I’d gotten separated from my unit and I knew where base camp was so I wasn’t worried. I was walking and she– the woman– comes onto the road facing away from me. She was hurt. Her hair– I remember her hair being really dirty. She turned around and finally noticed me then stumbled backward and fell.  She was yelling at me terrified. I didn’t know any Wutian. She was begging for something I couldn’t understand. I took a step forward. I wanted to help her up,”
Zack swallowed.

“She was calling me something again and again. I didn’t want to hurt her, but if she kept screaming she’d give away my position. I wasn’t going to hurt her. I wasn’t. Oh goddess Cloud, I really wasn’t. I reached for her. She– she pulled out a gun and shot herself. A-angeal said that the locals. Essentially women. Would rather kill themselves than fall into Shinra’s hands,” Zack stared blankly into his desk. He wasn’t focused on anything specific, as if he was mentally somewhere else.

“What was she calling you?” Why was that the most immediate thought in his head? 

“Demon. That’s what they called Soldiers. Demons,” Zack’s voice was forced into a whisper. Cloud surged forward from his seat and wrapped Zack up in as much of himself as he could. There was the insane instinct that if Cloud could hide Zack then he could shield him from the terrible memories. The chair creaked in protest to Cloud basically leaning all his weight onto it. 

“It- its okay, that was literally over 10 years ago,” Zack said with a shaky laugh, but still clung to Cloud like he was the only thing keeping Zack in one piece. 
Cloud couldn’t say it wasn’t his fault. Zack wouldn’t believe it nor would it even be true. No matter how the propaganda spun it, the simple truth was that Wutai was invaded and the country pillaged. Shinra didn’t have a draft so anyone that was in Wutai was there by choice. On the other side of the blood soaked coin, Shinra also was a cut throat corporation that manufactured the poverty that pushed people to military service when they wouldn’t otherwise. It had no troubles working for demons. One demon, summoned at the crossroads of poverty, Shinra and war: profit. Everyone suffered for Profit. 

There were no easy answers, no one free of guilt nor entirely to blame, but his best friend was crying in his arms. Cloud did the only thing he could.

“Look at me, blubbering away, getting snot all over your shirt,” Zack clearly and desperately tried to patch the holes in his defense.

“It’s okay, I’m not mad,” Cloud whispered. Entering into the military at 13 and an active warzone at 16 was not a life that said it was okay to cry. Soldiers couldn’t cry. They had to perfect and strong to lead Shinra to glory. There was no use for children. Zack clung to Cloud as a drowning man to a life preserver. 

In the position of Cloud standing and Zack sitting their normal roles were reversed. Zack looked up at Cloud with eyes that begged. There were no words exchanged between the two of them, barely the sound of breathing disturbed the thick silence. Even though they had been friends for months, neither of them knew much about the other before Shinra. Both of them were private people, Cloud was just more direct about it. Zack dodged questions about his values and past with a smile and a joke. Cloud took the tactic of staring blankly till the point sunk in. That confession had broken a wall between them. It was the proof they needed that variability and emotion wouldn’t be punished like it had been so many times in the past.

“I have class in the morning,” Zack gently removed himself. 

“Yeah, I have work,” Cloud replied. 

It was a polite tactical retreat that Cloud wasn’t going to push on. Being that open was terrifying and exhausting especially for someone like Zack who didn’t have any practice at it. 

“Do you want to watch cat videos for a bit before I have to leave?” Cloud held up his phone. 

“Fuck yes,” Zack abandoned his grading.

Most of the content warnings happen in these next scenes

The secret police were waiting at his desk for him the next morning.

For a split second, Cloud thought about running, but running only meant he was guilty. The officer was also lazily spinning around a live stun baton. That was a very good deterrent not to turn tail.

“Hello, how may I help you?” Cloud switched on his corporate voice. Just act like everything is fine. Don’t give them a reason. 

“Cloud Strife?” he asked. 

“Yes sir,” Cloud mentally planted his feet. Imaginary roots flowing from his feet into the ground. They were big and solid and gripped the soil like a great Oak. Do nothing that is not a direct order. 

“Let’s not make this hard at 6:30 in the morning, okay? It is too fucking early for that bullshit,” The officer took a step forward. There was no mistaking what “this” could be. The officer grabbed his arm and forced it behind him then used the leverage to shove him chest down into his desk. Anything that wasn’t his clothes where dumped on the desk. The click of handcuffs was deafening. 

Being walked through the halls handcuffed was probably the most humiliating thing to ever happen to him. People gawked and whispered at each other and the officer just strolled behind him without a care in the world for the parade he was putting on. Cloud tried to walk tall in order to preserve some of his dignity but then he spotted Dottie, hand over her mouth, aghast. Her expression of horror was too much. The tile used on this floor of the tower were speckled with flakes of color. That was the only thing he looked at for the rest of the march. 

The elevator was empty and that was a blessing as much as it was a curse. There was no one to stare but he was now alone with the officer. He pressed the number for the basement parking garage. 

“So,” He started with casualness better suited for small talk, not an arrest. “Do the carpets match the drapes,”
The statement was so bizarre that Cloud wasn’t sure if he’d understood. 

“Your hair blondie, is it natural? Your eyebrows are also blond so my guess is yes, but maybe you’re just dedicated,” the officer flicked one of the wild strands of hair. Based on that, Cloud had heard him right. He’d just asked the first thing assholes are taught in “catcalling 101”. It didn’t dignify an answer. It was better to stay quiet anyway. 

Cloud had never been arrested, but he had spent his whole life as the person with the least amount of power in any given room. Being arrested was just that dynamic of power vs weakness concentrated and distilled. Whether it was a drill sergeant, shift manager, or secret police, the rules were all the same. Head down, do as asked only when asked and understand anything you do or don’t do can and will be used against you. 

“Goddess, you are boring. Didn’t even try to resist, took all the fun out of it,” The officer whined like it was a real problem. Cloud was being disappeared by Shinra secret police and the officer was complaining he didn’t get to use excessive violence. The absurdity of it was baffling. This had to be some kind of ploy to get a reaction. This guy could not be this annoying naturally. 

The elevator dinged and opened to a raw concrete hallway. The walls were so unlike anything else in the tower. Where the tower was polished to a minimalist corporate shine. The hallway almost seemed unfinished with how rough and empty it was. The sound of walking was intensified by the acoustics of the concrete. It was dead silent other than the echoes of their footsteps. No other signs of life. This was when it started to sink in what was truly happening. There would be no trial, no jury, or judge. Cloud would be wiped from the face of the planet, every official trace he existed deleted. His birth and work records would be wiped. His property seized. 

His house.

Sephiroth .

He’d burn this building to the ground. The entire city was reduced to ash. 

Was there anything Cloud could actually do about it? The officer wouldn’t listen, the story was so ridiculous it wasn’t worth even rehearsing.  

Fine. Cloud thought. If he went down, he’d take all of them with him. 

Empathy kicked in through the sharp bitterness. There were normal people that lived in the tower who hadn’t done anything except do a normal job. Beyond Shinra, there were civilian businesses that worked with Shinra in the tower. They’d die because of Cloud. 

They reached a fairly normal van. The windows were tinted, but other than that it was entirely unremarkable. It made sense. If you’re transporting someone you plan to disappear you don’t drive them to their execution in the most conspicuous thing to ever hit the road.

Cloud vomited in his mouth and swallowed it back down. 

Execution. 

He was going to die. 

As he walked up to the van, there was someone already in the driver's seat. The officer put him in the back and climbed in with him. 

“You know, most people at least ask Why,” he sat slouched on the metal bench. 

“I know why,” It was the murder.

“Holy shit you do speak,” The officer sat up with an aggravating grin that made Cloud sorry he spoke in the first place.

The longer Cloud thought about it the more questions rose.  This was a lot of cloak and dagger for a pretty straightforward murder.  If they found the body, how did they tie it back to Cloud? Sephiroth wore gloves most of the time, so no weird fingerprints. Cloud was also sure that if they thought Shinra Tower Sephiroth killed someone, they wouldn’t bother digger further and let the case go cold.

“Say something again,” The officer poked his leg with the turned-off stun baton. It was demeaning to be ordered to do tricks like a circus animal after being paraded like one. Cloud thought about staying silent just to spite him. 

That baton looked very solid.

“Why didn’t the military police arrest me? Why the secret police?” Cloud would at least die informed. 

“1. We’re called Turks. Secret police, that's hilarious, I’ve got to tell Tsung that,” The driver banged on the wall separating them from the cab, “What? He’s going to be interrogated and dead in the next week, so what if he knows Tsung’s name?” The officer spoke about him dying like he was sending an email or refilling the printer. Just another day on the job.

It should upset him. He didn’t feel scared or angry or indignant. It wasn’t that he wanted to die, he wanted to go home and see Sephiroth and see those green cat eyes one last time. It was the form the ferryman's boat took. 

Cloud realized part of him has been waiting for this since he pulled the trigger. Finally, someone one sentencing him properly for the crime.

“Hello, earth to twink,” The officer waved a hand in front of his face snapped him out of his revelation. 

“2nd. To answer your question. The higher up you go the closer we listen, and boy you found a way right to the top– a Soldier First. You admitted to murdering a Shinra employee right before an avalanche attack on your reactor. The military police handle murder. Turks handle terrorists,” he finished. The higher up you go the closer we listen

Did they have Cloud’s room bugged? Was the fact that Zack was close with Cloud enough to warrant bugging his room? Cloud lamented the ridiculousness of his situation and how it was entirely his own fault. He’d made the split-second decision to pull the trigger. He’d decided to tell Zack.

Trying to convince his guard that he wasn’t a terrorist wouldn’t do any good. Cloud hadn’t warned the reactor about Tifa’s attempt to get in. Did that make him a terrorist? The van finally started up, and they pulled out.  

The drive was short. The city was unchanged from inside the van. There was no transformation, no seeing the city in a new light due to his new terrible situation. It was still the same dirty, industrial hole in the world. They took the winding ramp down to the slums. 

A windowless slate gray prison-like building came into view. It was well out of the city center. Cloud was marched inside through a back entrance, hauled in by a painful grip on his upper arm. 

If he thought being marched through the halls handcuffed was humiliating, that was nothing compared to the degradation of a cavity search. Cloud stood stripped naked, trembling so hard he couldn’t string thoughts together. His vision swam with the effort to stay grounded in his body. It was a losing battle. His hands weren't his own, his body didn’t belong to him. Tears covered his cheeks.

Cloud would have preferred being shot. 

The cell had iron bars for a front wall and door. The other walls and floor were exposed concrete that bit into his skin. He tried not to look at the blood stains and what they implied. They splattered the walls in wide arcs or sunbursts from a center point. That wasn’t the worst part– it was the smell. In the corner was a bucket that radiated the burning odor of ammonia. It might have been emptied out but clearly hadn’t been cleaned. 

Cloud was dumped onto the floor like a sack of flour, facing the wall and hadn’t moved. He lay limp like a thing already dead. 

Time disappeared in that cell. There were no windows or clocks so only the growing hunger in his stomach gave any indication of how long it had been. Hunger pains were beginning to chew at his side. His stomach was making him regret skipping breakfast, but the bucket made him slightly glad there was nothing for his system to digest. The buzzing fluorescent lights in the hall never dimmed or turned off. Worse, they even flickered sometimes. That fueled his growing headache that threatened to mutate into a migraine. At a loss as to what else to do, Cloud had tried to sleep several times, but he couldn’t. Something would throb or he just couldn’t settle down on the rough floor. In the near silence and isolation, he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to the worst places. 

The Turk mentioned an interrogation. Is that what came next? Cloud had visions of being tied to a chair, someone with a shadowed face asking him about the mountain– what was up there. Who had he talked to. 

Cloud wasn’t a strong man. If they decided to hurt him, he wouldn’t be able to keep the truth safe. 

Maybe they wouldn’t hurt him directly. Maybe they’d just leave him in here and let his mortality-the need for food, water, connection-do the hard work. A core of shame formed in his chest. He was never strong or smart enough to keep important secrets. Tifa on some level had trusted him to keep her involvement with Avalanche secret when she’d asked him that impossible secret. Sephiroth trusted him not to give away their life together on the mountain. Both of them had made the wrong decision. A team is only as strong as its weakest link.
Cloud was the weakest link. 

This was the fate of The Strife. 

This was supposed to happen. 

Something wet slid down his finger. 

Blood. 

He’d unconsciously started scratching at the floor with a few fingers. It had filed down his nails then broke skin. Cloud stared at the slow trail, the drop of blood traveled down his hand then into the valley between his knuckles, then finally dripped onto the floor. 

The entire day had been one hardship after another. Something was rotting inside of him. The only mercy was that his body could only take so much before it gave out. 

Cloud woke up slowly. First gaining feeling in his legs then spreading from there; sides, arms, cheek. Even as he came to sleep tried to keep his grasp. That left him in a state between sleep and waking. Only the simplest thoughts managed to come together and he floated between more conscious and more awake. A hand brushed away strands of hair no rougher than moonlight. His eyes finally opened to meet peridot green. 

“Hi,” Cloud whispered, smiling. 

“Hello,” Sephiroth replied. He didn’t smile back but blinked slowly. His eyelids drifted shut then opened again with the same unhurried ease, not a rush in the world. 

The big black wing retracted leaving Cloud free to sit up, which he didn’t. Instead choose to raise his hand up to softly stroke up and down the length of Sephiroth’s noise with a single finger. Sephiroth basked in the sensation with a single sigh. 

“Did you sleep okay?” Cloud asked under the quiet that had draped over the morning.

“Well enough,” Sephiroth replied at a similar volume. 

Cloud’s hand moved up a little higher to trace along Sephiroth’s hairline. He moved down his face to the temple then tucked a few silver strands out of the way, finally letting his hand rest draped over the side of Sephiroth’s neck. His hair never tangled when he slept. It had a mind of its own splaying anywhere it could reach, but never tied into knots. His joints never popped and his muscles never got sore from a poor sleeping position. Sephiroth's own body seemed to love him even if the feel wasn’t always returned. 

Cloud laid content to just gaze and be gazed at in return. 

“We need to get up eventually.” Cloud shifted into another position. 

“Eventually,” Sephiroth made no motion to leave the bed or even sit up. 

“Eventually,” Cloud agreed. 

They would get up– later. 

Cloud is standing in an empty, uncaring cosmos, he is not alone. 

Tifa and Barret stand beside him just as determined. 

This is it. They can’t afford to lose here. Not even everyone is counting on them. 

Sephiroth uncanny and divine floats above him cloaked in the form of a GOD. Soldier, Mercenary, Grunt. All those labels and identities don’t matter anymore. Cloud decides who he is, what legacy he will be. 

Cloud was no longer his puppet. He charges in with a sword ready to set free the ghost in front of him.

“Hello, Mr. Strife,” a voice said. Cloud snapped out of his shifting dreamscape back into bleak reality. The arrest. The cage. 

He wanted this to be over. 

“If this was anyone else, I wouldn’t even think to involve myself. However, you present a special case. We have a mutual friend, and a Soldier or two in my debt is always an advantage I want to have,” The voice said. 

He wanted his mom

“Cloud! Fuck, by the goddess, I’m here,” Cloud sat up quickly and turned to face the bars.

Zack.

Zack .

He was out of breath. His previous rapid string of assurance was cut into choppy phrases by labored gasps of air. It added to his generally strange haggard appearance. His shirt was wrinkled and hair was unwashed. This wasn’t the put together Commander or the energetic puppy. This was someone scared. 

Cloud flicked his eyes away from Zack to the man standing beside him who’d spoken earlier. Wutain. Long dark hair. Pretty in an untouchable way. In the same style, an expensive suit as the Turk. 

Sephiroth was also there. 

The Turk pulled out a ring of keys that must have been for the cell out of an inner pocket of his suit. Zack didn’t wait. He grabbed two bars and wrenched them apart. The metal groaned in protest as it bent. Flakes of rust fell to the ground. The ease that he warped the bars made it seem like they weren’t solid at all. Zack fell into the cage and down at Cloud's side.
“Cloud, Cloud , Cloudy sky. It's okay, I’m going to make it okay,” One hand slid under the crook of his legs, the other supported his back, Zack maneuvered Cloud’s body like a doll with cut strings. Through a thick haze feeling and reality in general started to sink back into place. Cloud brought his arms to loop around Zack’s neck. He was so tired and wrung out he didn’t even feel embarrassed about being carried.

“Hey! back with us, Spike? You’re doing so good. Focus on me. You’re safe,” Zack said. Of course, Cloud was safe with Zack. It was Zack . Cloud looking back over Zack's shoulder saw Sephiroth unfazed. It was a stark comparison to the desperate, frantic rambles. The green cat eyes held none of the affection or softness they had in the dream of home. They were severe and calculating. But they were here. With him.

“Is he real?” Cloud’s voice was a little sore but It hadn’t been long enough for raspiness due to lack of use to set in. 

“Sephiroth? Yeah, he’s real. Helped me pull some strings to get you out after Dottie told me you’d been carted off by Turks,” Zack was on the move now out of the cage. Sephiroth stood still like a black obelisk. He made no motion to help instead taking on the role of passive observer. His eyes too in everything with the same blank indifference. Cloud was in range just long enough to reach out and hook a few strands of long silver hair on his finger. Sephiroth’s focus bored holes into Cloud. Their exchange was cut short as Zack moved with purpose out of the prison. 

“Shut your eyes, we're going outside and I don't want the sun to hurt them,” Zack paused before a door labeled Exit. Cloud squeezed his eyes shut and braced for impact. The sun shone through his eyelids. The darkness turned the shade of orange/red when bright light shines through flesh. Eventually his eyes adjusted enough to open them. Zack was rapidly approaching an unremarkable car. It wasn’t an expensive classic, but it also wasn’t a complete shit box either. 

“I’m- I’m–” Cloud wasn’t okay. He wouldn’t be okay till Midgar was a distant bad dream. He’d weathered Nibelheim, his mom dying, reactor work, Sephiroth, and basic training. Being arrested and nearly being disappeared hit a wall in his mind. This was never going to stop. His life had been one bad event after another because he was a Strife. 

Zack buckled him in and climbed into the driver’s seat. It wasn’t long till Cloud fell asleep to the hum of the road. 

When he woke up again, it was in a proper bed. The quality of it was night and day compared to the hard concrete floors and even the unforgiving mattresses of the infantry dorms. Cloud basked in it with his eyes closed till his brain woke up enough to be curious about where he was. 

The room was simple with the impersonality of a hotel room, but none of the sterility. This place was lived in with scuffed paint on the dresser and stains on the carpet. The drapes were a floral pattern that was popular 30 years ago. 

A stack of clothes sat neatly folded on the nightstand with a small note on them. 

“These are for when you wake up. You’re in the guest room above seventh heaven. Come downstairs when you’re ready  – Zack” 

The clothes were sweat pants that had to be cinched around his waist and rolled several times at the leg. a “Kalm 7th annual car show” t-shirt, and to finish a loose gray zip up jacket. The excess fabric hung off his shoulders and hips like sheets. He looked smaller than he already was then de-aged 5 years. The stairs down creaked like old knees with each step. Cloud cringed at the loud announcement that he was up and moving. It wasn’t that he was trying to be stealthy, just that a lot had happened. Zack would probably be a little overwhelming. He had every right to be the reason Cloud was even alive. Downstairs in the main bar area Tifa, Barret, Zack, and three other people all sat around a table that had seen better days. The air wasn’t tense but none of them seemed to be in the best mood either. 

“Hi,” Tact and subtlety was not a part of the bare bones thoughts left in his skull. For once he wasn't anxious about what to say or replaying it in his head to try and find a better way it could have phrased something. Cloud didn’t care. He’d just been arrested. 

“Hey! You’re up!” one of the new people said. He had a bright smile that lit up not only his face but the energy he had around.  A red bandana covered his hair but didn’t obscure his face. 

“Cloud!” Tifa stood up. She visibly fought with herself whether to go run up or give him space to breathe. 

“Yeah,” Cloud didn’t move from his spot at the base of the stairs. He didn’t have shoes on and this was still a bar in the evening. The floor didn’t look sticky but that wasn’t enough evidence to risk that texture nightmare. 

Cloud speaking was the trigger to snap Zack out of whatever fugue state he’d been in while at the table. He fell out of his chair into a sprint that ended in him crashing into Cloud like the consequences of gravity. They would have toppled backward if not for one of Zack’s hands grasping the banister to keep them steady. Even one armed, Zack was a big guy and the embrace swallowed Cloud. The other arm came back and the feeling doubled. The few remaining thoughts in his head turned to cotton. 

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” Zack whispered, then said some things in Gongagan. Cloud was okay with that at the moment. The whole ordeal had been less than 24 hours, but it was the humiliation, the threat of death, dealing with Turks , that sucked all the energy out of him. Cloud was happy to do whatever anyone said, especially if it was Zack. He let himself bask in the Mako fueled body heat of a Soldier. For that thirty seconds the world outside the two of them didn’t matter. 

“Let the kid breath Fair, your over inflated muscles are going to suffocate him,” a new voice broke through their embrace. Cloud didn’t want to be let go. It was perfect right where he was. There was nothing in that moment that could hurt him. His stomach disagreed. Loudly.

“C’mon lap dog, let the punk go so he can eat something,” Barret said. Zack did back off if only to glare at Barret. No longer hidden by six feet of Soldier they all looked at him. He was the most interesting thing in the room. The spotlight of attention burned. 

 The floor had wet spots not from spilled drinks but mopping. It was a darker wood or had been stained darker to feel more expensive. It wasn’t the smoothest floor but lacked anything like exposed nails or major chips. A set of red lace up boots stepped in front of him. They where worn and had the marks of being repaired several times. The laces had been recently replaced.

A hand landed on his shoulder. Cloud couldn’t stop himself from flinching.

“Do you want to take your food up to your room? Zack and I explain what you missed,” Tifa spoke quietly as if not to startle off an animal. It wasn’t a far off from how Cloud felt. 

“Yeah,”

Chapter Text

Cloud sat with his back against the headboard of the guest room’s bed. The soup was on a tray with a piece of bread and a glass of water. It was thick with chunks of meat and aromatic vegetables. There was the earthy scent of herbs as well. Cloud couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a dish with vegetables in Sector Seven. How much money was sitting in front of him? Cloud ripped off a piece of bread then dunked it into the soup letting it soak up the broth. It was warm and tasted like the best meal he’d ever had. Almost dying made food taste better.

“So, good news and bad news,” Zack started. His hand rested on Cloud’s ankle. It was a remarkable show of restraint that was all he was doing. In the places were skin met skin an itching feeling prickled gently. Cloud resolved not to move. Tifa sat on the side of the bed opposite to Zack and kept her hands politely folded in her lap. 

“Bad news first,” Cloud wanted that out of the way. Rip off the bandage and hope it didn’t take any hair with it. 

“In order to get you out of custody, you’ve been dishonorably discharged for going AWOL. Additionally, you’ll need to serve out your last scheduled task as a civilian,” Zack rattled off the information unpassionately. This was functionally a mission debrief. It made the reality easier to digest. 

There were a thousand things that could have been the bad news after being rescued from Turk custody. Being dishonorably discharged was honestly probably one of the lighter consequences. At least he was legally still alive and his entire presence hasn’t been scrubbed from record. That wouldn’t be hard, Cloud’s life hadn’t felt much of a paper trail outside of Shinra. Fuck, he was unemployed again.

“What task?” Cloud asked eating more soup soaked bread. There hadn’t been any assignment scheduled to his knowledge. 

“A guide up Mt. Nibel, Sephiroth and I are going to check in with a reactor and having someone from the area on a mission is preferred,” Zack finished. Cloud sucked in a short gasp which caused bread to go down the wrong tube. Raspy coughs rattled his body trying to get the bread up out of his airways. 

Returning to Nibelheim was inevitable; the clock had run out so much sooner than anticipated. He was going home to back where he belonged. Cloud was surprised to find a feeling of apprehension despite plenty of reasons to go home. His Valkyrie was in there. His mother’s house was there. The goal had always been to survive four years of service then get back to being a recluse. Even with everything pulling him to home, life in Midgar had a magnetism to it that pulled him away from the charted path. Zack had barreled into his life in the best way. Tifa wanted to reconnect. He wasn’t The Strife here– just Cloud.

“Where’s the signed poster?” Cloud arched an eyebrow and Sephiroth’s passive expression. 

“Food is done,” was his response instead of actually answering Cloud’s question. 

“Don’t dodge! Where is it you bird!” Cloud leaned into his space. Sephiroth petted his hair back which only made Cloud blue screen a little.

“Somewhere safe where you can’t toss it out,” Sephiroth ate his sandwich, a paper towel wrapped around the bottom, so his hands didn’t actually touch the food. 

The air flowed in through an open window. The sun shone.

It didn’t matter.

“So, I’m out of a job and no one is going to hire a dishonorably discharged infantryman. Cool. Great. Fun,”

Cloud took large gulps of water.  He needed to be employed and if it pulled his attention away from having to deal with his own emotions than wasn’t that convenient. 

“You could join Avalanche,” Tifa offered it with the same seriousness of offering a spot on a sports team. Zack smacked her arm with a serious look. 

“He knows. I tried to have him get me into the Nibelheim reactor before he joined up with infantry,” Tifa glared back. She said ‘infantry’ like it was dirty. Zack furrowed his eyebrows and looked between Cloud and Tifa. 

“You know about Avalanche. The environmental activists,” Zack’s voice didn’t sound like he believed that at all. Little anxious asthmatic Cloud wouldn’t possibly know about the terrorists. Once the fog of indignation cleared a bit Cloud reasoned that wasn’t an unfair assumption. Groups that blow up reactors weren’t in the habits of advertising their existence either. 

“Um, yeah. How do you know about Avalanche,” Cloud felt like this was a comedy of errors. How dose a high ranking member of Shinra military end up knowing a group like Avalanche? 

“I’m a member. I’m their inside man within Shinra,” Zack said. 

A member. 

Cloud felt his perception of Zack rewrite itself.

  Zack was an eco-terrorist . 

Maybe that made exact sense. There was no one better to see the horrors of Shinra Corp than those just below the top brass. The perfect situation to be exposed to the abuse behind the scenes but not powerful enough to change it. The equal and opposite question was Why would a group like Avalanche ever allow someone so deep into Shinra hierarchy into their group? There were so many ways that could be dangerous. 

It’s because it was Zack. 

“That makes too much sense now that I’m hearing it,” Cloud leaned back. The tangible sorrow Zack carried with him about what happened in Wutai. The way he fought for a better quality of life for the community under the plate. Of course the child soldier war veteran would be against the people who made the child a soldier and a war veteran.  A laugh bubbled up from the ridiculousness of the entire situation. Cloud let it pop out of his mouth. Then another. And another. Till Cloud was basically beside himself in a giggles fit. His sides ached with the force of laughter.  

“I’ve seen you eat absolute shit falling off a jeep and you’re a big bad eco-terrorist ,” Cloud said in between laughing and gulping air. Suddenly every stupid thing Zack has said or done is underscored by the fact he was in a radical splinter group of an Eco-Terrorism organization and Shinra Public Enemy #2 only bested by the Wutai Nationalist Party. 

Zack turned into a sputtering mess. 

“That’s not fair! I contain multitudes!” Zack protested over Cloud’s laugher which showed no sign of stopping. 

“Come here you chocobo ass looking–” Zack lunged. Cloud’s body jerked hard on pure animal instinct; the movement was too violent to be called something as small as a flinch. His whole body seized for a second. All the levity and laughter drained out of the room in an instant leaving only heavy awkwardness. Cloud’s nails bit into his palm like insects.

“Sorry,” He murmured eyes downcast. Embarrassment and shame created a potent emotional cocktail.

“You just got out of a Shinra black site, give yourself some time,” Tifa wrapped her fingers around his own and they burned. It was meant to be a comfort. Anyone else would have taken it as an act of kindness. Cloud tried his best not to rip away too abruptly. 

“I’m not joining Avalanche," Cloud knew it would be a bad idea from several different angles. The Turks already knew his face, didn’t have the physical strength or the mental fortitude for that kind of work, and he was flat out bad luck. Rather than gain any kind of meaningful ground on the convenience of Mako, Avalanche was more likely to get caught and executed publicly with him around. It wouldn't be the first time that Shinra had made an example out of resistors. 

“Good,” Zack said. He was somewhere else, lost in the current of his own thoughts. Cloud wanted a peak at the course, but it was probably better to let them run without prying. There had been a glimpse at the fun, goofy guy that Cloud knew, but mostly he’d been replaced with someone much more serious. Before, it was the other way around with the serious guy as the personality that came through the cracks. Now out of the Tower away prying eyes, which one was real and which manufactured? Was Zack goofy naturally and forced into line by the weight of command and the strain of battle or was he serious and the puppy an image created by his PR team? 

“Cloud, there’s more to Avalanche than blowing up reactors. There’s community outreach, information coordination, supply management, and your experience fixing weapons and organization could be really helpful. We’re a protest movement first and foremost. Direct action is great but to change the world we have to take care of the people too. We have to show them that together we can stand up tall without Shinra’s reactors or their money. If we can’t do that then even if Shinra is destroyed someone just as exploitative will take their place,” Tifa was a ray of warmth. Her hands flew like a fluttering bird as she gestured wildly while speaking. Her mouth may have been forming the words but it was her heart that was speaking. She smiled with genuine excitement for the ideas that Avalanche promoted. Ideas of fraternity and solidarity. This wasn’t a catchy tag line for recruiting members, it was actual hope for a better world. 

Hope. That was the most dangerous thing about Avalanche.  

“He’s not joining, Tifa,” Zack’s words were unforgiving. A wall blocking any resistance. 

“And who are you to decide that for me?” Cloud bit back. He was good at taking orders when there wasn’t a choice. That was different from someone making his decision for him. 

“The guy who saved you from getting killed!” Zack yelled. That didn’t give him any extra rights. This wasn’t a life debt situation. If it hadn’t been for that stupid confession then Cloud wouldn’t have ever brought up the incident in the first place. 

“Wasn’t Sephiroth the one who actually got them to release me?” Cloud countered. 

“Who do you think asked him!” Zack sounded ready to burst. 

“You saved my life, but you don’t get to decide how I live it,” Cloud glared. Zack’s frustration flared hot enough to push him to the other side of the room then it cooled to tired wispy smoke. He dropped his head into his hands. He gripped the strands harshly then raked through his hair standing up straight with the motion. His back muscles displayed prominently in the form fitting shirt tensed taut. 

“Tifa, can we have the room?” Zack asked stiffly. She nodded then slipped out the door quickly. She’d grown increasingly stiff in her seat as the two of them yelled at each other. The room suddenly felt much smaller with her gone. The walls changed to keep him stuck inside instead of the rest of the world out. 

“Why do you look like you think I’m going to hit you?” Zack’s tight frustration sat on his shoulders. It drained out in a rush replaced by sad confusion the moment he turned to face Cloud.

“I–,” Cloud knew why it felt like he was trapped in a cage with a pacing predator. The little voice of anxiety had said that this was the last fuck up he got and the opposite voice of reason was nowhere to be found. Knowing why didn’t make rationalizing irrational thoughts any easier.

Zack circled the bed till he came to Cloud’s side and sat on the edge. The tray of cold, half finished food was relocated to the nightstand. 

I’m sorry for yelling at you, but I’ve never done– will never do anything to hurt you like that. Not on purpose. I need you to at least give me that,” 

It wasn’t a big ask. Zack shouldn’t have to ask for that at all. They’ve argued and had disagreements but never did it even come close to a physical fight. 

“You haven’t, I know you won’t,” 

“Okay… okay,” Zack deflated like a worn balloon. “I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life, but I care about you and if Shinra finds out joined Avalanche. There’s no amount of favors or bribes I could use to save you,”

“I know that, obviously, but–” Cloud bristled at the idea that he didn’t know exactly what Shinra would do after living it yesterday. 

“I don’t think you do!” Zack wasn’t yelling. His voice was loud but there was no heat behind it. Just desperation. A need to be understood completely. “When I learned that you’d been taken by Turks, I’ve never been that scared. I was fucking terrified. To think you’d been hurt or killed or taken somewhere I couldn’t reach, damn it ,” 

Tears cracked open Zack’s voice. It created a large wound in his sentence that threatened to engulf the rest of the thought. Tears spilled out despite his efforts to swallow them with big gulps of air. They slid down to his chin and dropped steadily darkening the already deep blue denim pant leg. The dam finally broke and with it Zack into deep body shaking sobs.  Cloud held onto him tight to keep the pieces together.  

“I’m sorry that I scared you so badly,” if he hadn’t been kidnapped Zack wouldn’t be crying like this. 

“No, no . You didn’t do anything wrong, fuck–” Zack’s wet cheeks rubbed tears onto Cloud’s. This kiss was not the deep confession like the last one but ended as quickly as it came.
“Wha– huh– I told you. You said,” Cloud was dizzy with the pistol whip of a kiss. Hard, quick, and left you dazed. He’d seen it happen in basic training but he did know a kiss could create the same experience. Zack and Cloud were never going to work. Zack was too tied to midgar and Cloud to nibelheim. Even if the whole Sephiroth thing wasn’t an issue neither of them were willing to move. No matter how warm Zack kissing him felt. 

“I know, I know. Just– When Dottie told me about seeing you it had taken almost three hours for her to reach me through all the bullshit red tape. By then, I was sure Reno had marched you out to some dark corner and put a bullet in your skull. I though– for hours before Angeal said you might not be dead,” Between the time that Dottie had found him and then Angeal, Zack sat in a world where he believed Cloud was dead. The man he loved gone without the chance to rage against or say goodbye. Cloud thought of a world where Zack was dead. 

A rain soaked cliffside. The gleam of wet bullet casings littered the ground with the puddles. The smell of iron and mako below the mud and gun smoke.

You’ll be my living legacy

The image hit so vividly Cloud was half confused why he was in a bedroom. His head drifted like coming out of an intense dream paired with heavy sleep but he was awake for the entire thing. Zack was still sat in front of him on the bed. It wasn’t even raining. 

“Are you okay? You went somewhere else there,” Zack moved into his line of sight. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m ok,” Cloud whispered. His fingers fisted into the thick blanket. His crying had lightened to scattered sniffles.

“I don’t think you are,” 

No he wasn’t. There where at least three big reasons why he wasn’t okay and now he had the image of Zack dead seared behind his eyes.

“No, of course I’m not, I got kidnapped yesterday,” Cloud snipped. Zack took it in stride.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. It happened when we first met and with Aerith,” Zack replied more gentle than Cloud’s previous tone warranted. Cloud didn’t realize that he outwardly reacted to those flashes. Not the emotions they caused after, that had to be written all over his face, but during the actual vivid images. He apparently “went somewhere”.

“You remember us meeting that well?” Cloud asked. It was both a valid question and a good way to distract from that particularly awkward conversation that might lead to an institutionalization. 

“Of course, you were beautiful,” Zack said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Beautiful. Cloud wasn’t so obtuse to think he wasn’t pretty, but the way it was normally applied to him always came with expectations. Sex, de–de-transitioning, favors. This time it was like stating grass was green.

“I was terrified of you,” Cloud admitted. He picked at a hangnail. Way back then Zack had represented a world that had deeply hurt Sephiroth. He belonged to some distant Hero Cloud shared a face with. Everything he wanted to avoid in life. Then he proved both of those things wrong. 

“Oh, I knew, but you were funny and pretty and talked to me like I was a person once you relaxed a little. That’s really rare to find all three, I knew I had to hang onto you,” Zack held his hand to stop them from pulling at the loose skin. It threatened to start bleeding. 

Geese always know when to start long migrations and where they will end for spring. The capability and instinct built into their bodies through years of evolution. It was a feat of nature carefully tuned to the rest of the planet. There was an instinct for each other developed by universal constants far beyond Cloud and Zack that led to their collision. It could be nature and nurture that brought them together, the greater work of the gods, or just luck. 

They were always going to find each other. 

Cloud surged forward to clumsily ram his lips into Zack’s. He was so tired of this dance, this shaking deer on thin ice carefulness around each other and what they both wanted. This was only going to end in heart break; they might as well make the pieces worth the pain. The fallout would come, but it would come later. Right then there was only the woodsy smell of Zack’s cologne and the warmth of his hands and press of his lips. Cloud had never taken initiative like this and quickly found himself at a lose as to what to do. Everyone said books made sex unrealistic and were definitely not a guide, but that was all he had for reference. What did he do with his hands? His legs? Did he escalate? Deescalate?  

“Hey, hey , listen I am absolutely on board for whatever change of heart you’ve had, but yours is beating like a rabbit’s. This doesn’t have to happen even if you want it to,” Zack smoothed Cloud’s hair back. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never done this ,” Cloud gestured to the open air and then up and down Zack who laughed. It was a good sound. 

“That’s fine. It is! It’s been a long two-ish days for the both of us. Let’s take a raincheck,” Zack who was an actual emotionally mature adult and not the anxiety riddled teenager playing as an adult said. He’d wanted this, started it with all the confidence of someone yelling Leroy Jenkins and running into a suicide mission, and now it was falling apart. Cloud sighed and sunk into the bed. 

“Cloud, can I be honest?” Zack started with a grin that could only mean trouble. 

“Yeah?” Cloud replied with a healthy dose of caution. Zack leaned down. His body tilted to one side and braced himself on his left forearm. Warm breaths of air brushed over Cloud’s rapidly reddening cheeks. 

“ I would love to have as much sex with you as you’d allow, but I haven’t slept since I talked about Wutai. I couldn’t get it up if I tried,” Their conversation about Wutai was days ago.

“You haven’t slept since our conversation about Wutai?” Cloud found the words to speak even after Zack’s voice stole them right from his throat.

“That’s what you focused on in that statement?” Zack sat back. He raised a skeptical eyebrow paired with an amused grin.

“You said you hadn’t slept in three days! What else am I supposed to focus on?” Cloud’s metaphorical feathers puffed up. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Zack waved him off and fell to the mattress. The springs creaked in protest. They both sat in the awkward silence they both wanted to be more comfortable. A lot of emotions had happened in quick succession. Blame it on the emotional high of almost dying. This was what happened when people didn’t talk to each other. If only talking was easier. 

“I don’t think I’ve cried like that since I was kid, really little,” Zack broke the silence. It was his favorite thing to break as a chatterbox. 

“That’s not healthy,” Cloud replied. 

“No it’s probably not,” Zack agreed. He had willingly signed away his childhood before he had a proper signature. The military didn’t know how to raise a child, only how to break down a person into a loyal dog. The only reason he probably talked about his emotions at all was thanks to Angeal’s intervention. 

Cloud yawned and a few moments later Zack caught it. 

“How the hell did my life end up like this,” Cloud murmured under the rapidly impending drowsiness. The last several hours had been a whiplash conversation as they both decided to actually talk about their feelings for once. 

“I’d like to know that too,” Zack replied, the comment directed inward rather than as an answer to Cloud’s question.

Chapter Text

Cloud felt the unforgiving road clearly through every rattle and jerk of the van. The meager amount of food left in his stomach fought its way up to his throat. Maybe the carsickness was from the general lack of cars for his entire life or just an unfortunate quirk of biology. Either way it still left Cloud with his elbows braced on his knees fighting the swaying waves nausea. He could handle all sorts of ailments from bruises to poison ivy rashes without much verbal complains but nausea always reverted him to a frail child. Cloud breathed through another gag and violent uprising of stomach bile. A bubble of gas bullied its way out of his mouth as a quiet but potent belch. His mouth tasted foul. A firm hand rubbed soothing circles. 

“Thanks Zack,” Cloud murmured. 

“No problem, glad I’ve never been motion sick. You’re looking pretty rough there,” Zack replied with a good dose of sympathy. There were those Mako advantages again. With advanced hearing and thus more sensitive inner ear, Soldiers seemed like they’d be more susceptible to motion sickness, but their brain didn’t get mixed signals about if their body was in motion or not. Apparently they also never got confused with which way was up while in deep water. Perfect Soldiers. Cloud wanted to bristle at the comment about his state, but he could get upset about the fact Zack was perfect and never got sick and Cloud couldn’t even be in a car without violent nausea or he could focus on not loosing his lunch in front of Sephiroth. 

The car hit a bump in the road. Could he steal the infantry man’s helmet? There was nothing else in the car to act as a container. Maybe Zack’s pauldrons? 

“And you’re sure we can’t use a Remedy?” Zack said backwards toward Sephiroth. 

“Yes,” Sephiroth cut ahead to the end of the conversation. 

“I’ll be fine, promise.” a lie the color of fresh snow, “save it for a better time,” The nausea was probably best left untreated anyway. A panic attack lay underneath the motion sickness. He almost couldn’t get into this one with how the last time he was in a van went. 

Cloud’s knuckles went the same color as his lie, clutched tightly together. Last time he’d been so scared, so out of it, that his carsickness was distant. Now it was front and center stage. He tried to think about anything else besides the pulse of his stomach. 

The mission. Go over the mission. 

Two days ago.

Cloud didn’t dare to even breathe. Drawing breath might be seen as an insult to the giants that surrounded him. Why was he taking their oxygen? They asked as they killed him. If they even asked. He was an insect to them. An organism that they wouldn’t even think twice before killing if he got in their way even slightly. 

Director of Research and Development, Dr. Hojo

Commanding General Sephiroth. 

Director of SOLDIER, Dr. Lazard. 

Lieutenant General Fair.

He didn’t even have the warmth of his friend to ease the frost rapidly forming on his spine locking him into place. Zack, his friend, the teacher, the goof ball was nowhere to be seen and in his skin was a Commander. It was so easy to forget Zack held more power in the snap of his fingers than a clap of lightning. Those three years of age separating them never felt longer. 

“I still don’t understand why the overkill of both Sephiroth and I going. I’ll be more than enough,” Zack said, annoyed. 

“We have no idea the strength of the entity killing the reactor transmutations,” Dr. Lazard pulled up a blurry photograph from inside the reactor. There was a figure in motion that made any defining features unrecognizable. Cloud’s stomach twisted. The tight squeeze of panic began its constriction. 

“This is also a big photo op for the general. The final event before we start to wind down his public appearances. The image transition from General to Director has to be done gradually or we risk having to hinge sales and attention on temporary shock factors,” Mrs. Gabrielle Hernandez spoke with her hands over to Zack. She handled Public Relations for Sephiroth and smelled of salted caramel chews. One such chew sat in his pocket. 

“Get in, find the malfunction in the reactor, kill any transmutations we find, capture or neutralize Entity Doe,” Sephiroth summarized the brief. He’d also changed from their brief interaction in the medical wing. There was no hint of warmth, no soft curiosity. Text to speech readers had more inflection. 

Entity Doe. Taken from John/Jane Doe.

Capture or Neutralize. 

Good luck with that. Hopefully Cloud could keep anyone from getting killed.

“You,” Mrs. Hernandez snapped to Cloud who almost jumped out of his skin. She started inhale like she was about to speak then paused and pursed her lips. There was a question on her face. 

“Mr.” Cloud only barely didn’t whisper. 

“Mr. Strife, please do not allow the General to be culturally insensitive. It’s the whole reason why you’re going,” She said. 

It was?
“I thought I was a guide up the mountain,” Cloud dared to question.

“Guide/cultural liaison,” She made teetering motions with her hand out flat. 

“In the equipment, why is Strife getting a civilian field kit? We’re walking up the main road. Why does he need clothes and supplies meant for combat?” Zack asked with a frown. 

“The main road has been cut off due to a rockslide. You’ll be finding an alternate route,” Lazard replied. Cloud’s head started tracking the various routes up the mountain he knew. Some were faster but took more dangerous routes others were slower but safer.

“No, I don’t want to take a civilian into a potential combat situation. We can find our own way up,” Zack spoke with authority. Cloud had been reduced to a civilian. Not untrue, but from his friend it shrank him smaller than ever.

“He’s hardly a civilian. Two years of infantry work, plus basic training. Trained to hold a rifle and understand procedure.  Between both of us, he won’t be an issue,” Sephiroth spoke up. Cloud didn’t mention that he’d never seen active combat and worked behind a desk for his infantry career. 

“We need the quickest way up the mountain. The Reactor is bleeding and thus so is R&D. Stop whining over minute details and fix the issue. This could have been an email,” Dr. Hojo spoke for the first time all meeting. Cloud’s safety was the “minute detail” they were arguing over. He bit his tongue. That’s what he was really. A minute detail. here was no place for him among the titans. Cloud didn’t know that they’d planned for Sephiroth to take Lazard’s position. That Angeal had been working closer and closer with Lazard and Sephiroth to take over the Commanding General Position. That Zack was going to take over Angeal’s position next to Genesis. He wasn’t a chapter in Zack’s life, just a footnote in Commander Fair’s. 

“Sir, we’ve reached Nibelheim,” Light flooded the back as the doors swung open. The motion sickness began its retreat in the face of stillness and fresh air. 

Almost three years gone and now he was finally back. 

For better or worse. 

The clean mountain air hit first. The distinct lack of mako and industrial smog. Cloud took a quiet deep breath then let it flow back out.  He took in the tree’s oxygen and gave back the Co2 they needed. Fall was threatening the heat of summer based on the cool breeze that danced in. A piece of him slotted back into place. He was a part of the ecosystem again, its flow and ebb.

“How does it feel? It's your first time back to your home in a long time, right?” Sephiroth appeared next to him. Cloud’s eyes had drifted closed without much care for who was around him. They remained closed through the question. He felt – settled. Like the foundation of a house. His nerves creaked like old pipes adjusting to a change in weather at the same time as a great anxiety had finally eased. Being in Nibelheim was never easy, but it was predictable. A different, much more manageable form of tension than living in midgar. He knew the form cruelty takes. 

“This isn’t my home. I lived up on the mountain. Nibelheim is just the closest town,” Cloud decided on saying with careful respect. Sephiroth made a thoughtful noise. His gaze turned to the mountain that interrupted the horizon and shrank the town with its size. Could he tell that Valkyrie was up there with some strange doppelganger mental link? Did Valkyrie know Sephiroth was in town? 

“It seems we are alike. I have no hometown as well,” Sephiroth said. His tone was almost normal. This was just small talk with an average person even with the faint tone of sadness. 

“You still have parents though. Right?” Zack strolled up to the conversation unaware or unconcerned with the atmosphere. 

“My mother is Jenova. She died right after giving birth to me. My father….” Sephiroth trailed off then broke into laughter that warm or gentle or even happy. It was inward, as if there was some joke that no one was in on. 

“What does it matter? Lets go,” Sephiroth shook his head, his emotions crossing over into physical movement. 

As they were about to enter the town a familiar face hustled up to them. 

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting, I’m Zander the mayor here,” Zander was a homely man with an accent to match. He’d never been cruel to Cloud but never did anything to discourage the harassment. “I wanted to greet you myself– to welcome you to our humble little town,” The mayor stumbled only a breath when speaking to the General. A few others stood around conveniently paused in their tasks trying to get a glimpse of the celebrity. None of them paid Cloud any mind. 

“Consider yourself off duty till sundown, 1900 hours,” Sephiroth said as he walked into Nibelheim. His grand uniform was ill-fitting against the wood and simple aesthetic of the town and its people. All dark brooding leather next to linen and cotton dyed for function rather than fashion. While it made Sephiroth look commanding and important, it only made the dirt roads dustier and buildings more rickety. 

“Off duty then, you can show me around, tell me all the best secret spots,” Zack knocked him with a playful jab. There was the distinct problem that Cloud didn’t know any secret spots. There were no childhood memories of finding hidden places to imagine into fortresses or ships. No favorite restaurants or shops.Zack really shouldn’t be seen with Cloud anyway. Anything touched by The Strife might as well be rotten. Cloud shuffled a hair away. 

Still not wanting to disappoint an expectant looking Zack, Cloud flitted through his metal filing cabinet of places in Nibelheim he liked. It was a very small mental file.

“I could show you the Great Hall?” Cloud said with a shrug. 

“Yeah! Lead the way,” Zack smiled.

The way to the Great Hall was a simple path. It was the focal point of the town and definitely the reason Nibelheim has lasted as long as it has. It was a traditional long house with the odd patterns of weathering  that came only after years of gradual refurbishment. That cycle of wear and then repair left it no less dignified. The Grand Hall was seen as the sanctuary of Frigg and always open in some capacity. Startlingly few people milled about. Those that were there tended to food heated on the hearth or did some other menial upkeep tasks. The lack of traffic didn’t bother Zack at all as he looked up in awe at murals on the ceiling and the detailed carvings on the various oaken support beams that had been brought from out of the region in favor of the softer pine wood. The carvings showed the town's origins in fur trapping and hunting as well as the old local gods of the region. It was the closest thing that Nibelheim got to writing down their traditions. 

“Wow, we don’t have anything like this in Gongaga,” Zack murmured. The awe of the Great Hall stole the volume from his voice. It was the appropriate reaction to a place like the Hall. The Hall’s second level was an open concept. The second floor wasn’t necessarily a floor but an area that wrapped all around the edge of the hall with most of the middle not there so that someone on the second level could easily call down to the first. 

“Nowhere has anything like this,” Cloud said with a little bit of conflicted pride for Nibelheim.

Zack was studying the mural with his head craned back to stare at the ceiling. It would give him away as someone from out of town if the Soldier uniform didn’t immediately. His brow furrowed with twin confusion and curiosity. Cloud followed his gaze to The Strife depicted in the mural– his desperate arm outstretched, the knives in his back with rivets of blood down his back, the Valkyries looking down at him with pity. 

“Do you want some food?” Cloud rattled off the first thing that might get Zack’s mind off the mural. Exactly as predicted he perked up at the idea. 

“Oh I’m starved, absolutely,” Zack was always a little hungry, a well documented mako side effect.  Perpetual stew upon first glance seemed like a strange witches brew of ingredients that wasn’t safe, but the temperature was too hot for germs to live and grow. The harvests could be mapped out by the content of the pot. Potatoes had a good year, due to the sheer volume of them. Someone had found a large colony of mushrooms. Lastly, there wasn’t a lot of meat so hunting had been poor. Cloud paid the person manning the pot with a handful of gil and gave the stew to Zack. 

“I don’t think you can buy literally anything in Midgar for 50 gil,” He shoved a spoonful of stew in his mouth and didn’t wait to talk. 

“That’s one of the things I missed, even over priced in Nibelheim is about average in Midgar," Cloud sat with his own bowl steaming delightfully. 

They ate with meandering conversation; talking about this or that, mostly about the mission. Cloud was strictly ordered to duck and cover the moment trouble started. It was a bit stupid because what else was he going to do? Zack got seconds and thirds and stared at the pot thinking about fourths but never got up. They tossed around the idea of bringing Sephiroth back a bowl. Cloud knew that Valkyrie liked the stew but it wasn’t fair to make that assumption about Sephiroth. They decided against it.  Sephiroth probably had a pretty strict diet plan. Zack had never seen the man eat. There was a large basin of dishes near the small kitchen area that they dropped their bowls into.

The sky was painted with the hues of early evening as they stepped out into the cooling air.

“I should head to the hotel, get some shut eye before tomorrow. You bunking with us or are you heading home?” Zack trailed off. Cloud halted.

He could go home. Nothing was stopping him from sleeping in his own bed with Valkyrie. Drinking tea that was familiar and tasted right. Bathing with homemade soap. His hands twitched as his gaze settled on the mountains. 

“ Home ,” Cloud repeated mind not with them but up the mountain. The climb up and trip down half an hour by foot each. If he timed it right, it was entirely possible to get back down and arrive on time… only to go right back up. 

“If I go up, I’m not sure I could make myself go back down, not for a while,” Cloud smothered the excitement with reason. “I’ve been away for 3 years, what’s a few more days?” 

Valkyrie might not let him go back down and he wouldn’t have the will to disagree. 

A carefully hidden tension released in Zack’s shoulders with an exhale not powerful enough to call a sigh.. 

“Call it selfish but I’m a little glad you're staying at the inn. Not quite ready to lose my best friend for at least another 48 hours,” Zack tried for levity but ended up sounding sad. 

“You’ll still have Kunsel and Aerith,” Cloud kicked some gravel. This was inevitably going to happen but sense never made the truth any easier. 

“They can’t replace you like you could never replace them,” Zack sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Cloud didn’t know what to say to that so he didn’t. 

They walked in weighted quiet till the hotel.

The ordinary two story building that was hosting Shinra was named The Nidhogg Hotel after an old dragon that prowled the region. Its name was more a formality as it was the only hotel in town. 

It was in the square with the water tower in the center. The Great Hall was the focal point of the community but the water tower was literally in the middle of town, an anchor. Everyone used it to give directions. 

Cloud stared at it.  

Just promise me one thing. When we’re older, and you’re a famous Soldier… if I’m ever trapped or in trouble… Promise you’ll come get me.

Huh?
That’s what heroes do. They save people. Please? Just once. C’mon promise me.

Fine. I promise

Heroes and Soldier. 

What a strange promise to make. 

Cloud had actually never been in the hotel despite his many years living in Nibelheim. It made sense after a moment to think about it. Why would he ever need to stay in a hotel in the town he lived in? Lived near at least. 

The downstairs turned to upstairs as they went up to their room. Sephiroth gazed out a window like a frozen doll. 

“What are you looking at?” Zack looked out the window to try and catch whatever had caught Sephiroth’s attention. 

“This scenery. I feel like I know this place,” Sephiorth murmured. 

Cloud’s stomach tightened. Did Valkyrie and Sephiroth really have a connection? Where they bleeding into each other? 

“We have an early start tomorrow, you should get some sleep soon,” Sephiroth verbally waved them off. Their room was close by. It was a standard room with barebones decorations with a sort of impersonal manufactured homeliness. An imperfect recreation of a warm space. 

They were also short a bed. 

Cloud somewhere had gotten out of the habit of assuming the worst of people in Midgar. He’d learned to give the benefit of the doubt– probably a side effect of having at least one friend. It was nice to see the good in people. That benefit quickly died. Cloud looked at the single bed and could just see the hotel manager giving them a single with a bitter snear that he had to host The Strife. The future glee at Cloud made to grovel for another room or have to sleep on the floor. Anything to make his life harder. 

“We can share for the night then get a different room in the morning,” Zack had began shuffling around pillows and blankets as Cloud fummed. Zack kept a level head as he focused on fixing the problem. Little things like this didn’t seem to bother him but he also didn’t know about the targeted nature of the “mistake”. 

“Only weird if you make it weird,” Zack declared as a universal law then full body flopped onto the bed. Cloud shrugged and grabbed everything he needed for his nighttime routine and got ready for bed. Cloud had his facewash, lotion, and toothbrush. He was carful to take care of his skin. The silky soft texture was a battle he’d fought hard. Ghosts of acne past still lingered slightly, but careful diligence of skin care had lessened any permanent damage. 

Zack brushed his teeth, chugged water and was done. 

The monster.

The bed was only half a foot too small to comfortably fit two grown men even if Cloud was more average height. The sheets and mattress was okay quality, he’d slept on worse and on better. The sounds of the wilderness, including chirping insects and the wind, played as the backdrop. Nothing like the constant noise of busy Midgar that had underscored the night for the last three years. The temperature dropped rapidly as the sun set below the horizon. With summer making way for fall it would only get colder. 

Zack to his side was out like a light, breathing deep and even. Sleeping anywhere was a military thing. Jackie and Huxley could fall asleep anywhere– busy mess hall, back of a car, standing. Cloud never quite got that perk. He stared at the ceiling and his mind floated absently to thoughts and back. He was so close to home but so far. Midgar had changed him and reverted him. He’d gotten confident enough to speak up for himself outside of his house, but he was also so so afraid after the arrest. He cared less about what people thought of him and cared so fucking much what Zack thought. Had he changed at all in the last three years? Was he happy about who he was if he did?  

Cloud sighed and let his arm rest over his eyes. 

Could Valkyrie tell he was in Nibelheim? Would he be upset Cloud didn’t go straight home? 

There was a good reason he didn’t. Couldn’t risk abandoning his side of his release deal. 

Zack was completely unaware of the turmoil in Cloud head. His face was relaxed completely and a little bit of drool escaped his mouth. He looked at peace. Vaunrable. 

A wave of self-loathing crashed into him sending him emotionally tumbling. 

He was going to break Zack’s heart staying here.

Chapter Text

Cloud woke in the morning freezing and half way to completely falling off the bed. The blanket was stolen in the night by a fucking thief who was still happily asleep. Catlike, Cloud oozed off the bed carefully and wobbled his way to standing. Ma used to yank the blanket off in revenge for thieves, but Cloud doubted he had that kind of strength. 

In a stroke of inspiration, he filled a glass with water from the bathroom. This early in the morning the pipes still haven't heated from the chilly night. 

As if in slow motion, the water descended from the glass and directly onto the blissfully unaware Soldier. Zack came to life like a revving engine, sputtering water from his face and hair. Cloud fell to the ground dying with laughter.

“The fuck was that for!” Zack shouted while swiping the hair out of his face. 

“Being a thief! I woke up without any blankets, you ass!” Cloud yelled back without any heat to it. Even if he was upset, it was hard to seem so while still on the floor from laughter. Zack shoved him with his foot.

“How is that my fault! I was literally asleep! Now I have to report with wet hair,” Zack muttered, shaking his hair out like a wet dog. 

The walk to the meeting spot was quiet, the rest of the town not yet awake. The morning was cool without dipping into cold with the last bit of summer still clinging onto the world.  A gathering storm on the horizon made the sky a brutalist slate gray, oppressive and looming. It was bad luck kind of weather, but there was no way to reschedule the mission. There was one road up the mountain where Sephiroth, the mayor, the infantry man, and some guy with a camera.

“Ah! I wanted to give you something before you went up. A blessing for your mission up there,”

“Zander said with a smile that was partially covered by his mustache. A wooden talisman with old symbols of luck carved into them, a red wood stain gave them a deep brown color. One was handed to Sephiroth and one to Zack. 

“Thank you,” Sephiroth said plainly. Despite his lackluster reaction, he inspected the gift carefully, feeling the carved symbol with his gloved thumb. Zack did the same and even gave it a quick sniff. He looked at Sephiroth’s despite them being exactly the same. 

"Doesn't Cloud get one?” Zack questioned. Cloud stiffened. Nibelheim didn’t advertise The Strife, best to keep him as the skeleton in the collective closet. To Zack and Sephiroth he was just a normal if reclusive member of the town. Zander looked pensively between Cloud and Zack– stuck between a rock and an awkward place. Cloud sighed internally and tried not to let it become an actual noise. Right before a mission was not the time to air out Nibelheim’s terrible cultural traditions. 

“Don’t need one. I live here remember,” Cloud slid in for the save. 

“Oh! Guess that makes sense,” Zack scratched his head with a contemplative face. That was good enough for now.  

“Um– Excuse me?” The man with the old camera held it up for the dual effect of hiding from Sephiroth and miming what he wanted- a photo. “For posterity?” 

Sephiroth seemed to contemplate it for a second. The only indication he was thinking about it at all was the slight narrowing of his eyes. 

“Not today,” Sephiroth said and turned to walk away, clearly done with delays to this mission. The photographer silently argued with the mayor with hushed hisses and stilted hand movements. The mayor saw a chance to brag and gain some small piece of prestige from evidence of the Great General’s visit for the few tourists that passed through. Cloud saw an opportunity. 

“Sir,” Cloud started with his best non-threatening voice. “It’s just one photo. Where’s the harm in that?” 

It was gutsy for him to talk to Sephiroth like this, but nothing about him this last day painted him as the person to lash out from being inconvenienced. Also, what was Sephiroth going to do? Fire him? 

Sephiroth rolled his eyes very slightly, probably the most expressive Cloud has seen this version of him be, and turned to face the camera. 

“Be quick,” Sephiroth ordered. Zack bounded up with a jump in his step to the square arch that marked the trail. He struck a pose, arms folded. 

“I was hoping to just get the Soldiers,” the photographer said sheepishly.

Of course.

Cloud stepped out of the way. With a bright flash the camera went off. It would probably be a nice photo with the morning light and the two men. No Strife to taint the memory. Sephiroth immediately started up the path not waiting for anyone's go ahead. 

Cloud trotted over to the mayor who startled back a half step. 

“You owe me,” Cloud whispered in his ear. It was enough to make the old mayor flinch however small. The rush of power felt like a cigarette full of nicotine. 

“We’re leaving! C’mon!” Zack hollered. 

For all that Nibelheim was familiar, it wasn’t truly home. That feeling of nostalgia didn’t fully hit him till the trees became dense and the dirt untamed. Animals rustled in the underbrush while birds sang overhead. His feet fell into a rhythm that was muscle memory by that point in life. Mt. Nibel wasn’t hard to hike physically, but things like the reactor, the rise of monster sightings, and a dip in tourist meant that it didn’t see many people. That left the forest to grow lush and healthy at the base. They fell into a loose formation. Sephiroth was in front. His feet made very little sound even on the dry dirt and leaf litter. Even at 6 '1, it was like someone had pressed the mute button on his entire existence. He didn’t exude a presence in the world. Cloud considered all the times Valkyrie had snuck up on him and decided he’d be more surprised if Sephiroth made noise. 

Cloud was in the middle with the infantryman. The helmet and uniform left him unremarkable. There was no way to see any defining features by design. Shinra meant for them to be faceless canon fodder. Even still Cloud envied the man’s option to disappear into the background and be forgotten. 

Bringing up the rear was Zack. between the town and their current position on the mountain a switch had flipped in his head. He wasn’t near silent like Sephiroth but there was an air of professionalism that had blanketed his mood. He didn’t ramble or joke instead kept his head on a swivel for threats. 

The path forked and the crew turned to their guide.

“The one on the left will take us to a bridge and then its a straight shot to the reactor,” Cloud said with full knowledge of the paths of the trail but it was still creased with doubt. The team moved left. 

The dense forest of the base of the mountain gave way to bare rock and scrub brush. The passive chatter of birds quieted and left nothing but wind for noise. Mako lines emerged from the soil like the hidden limbs of a beast or the reaching roots of a massive tree. At one point they should have been buried underground but rapid erosion and weathering had uncovered them. Further on they hit the bridge. It was well made, anchored into the ground with metal and the length held together with steel cabling. No rust stained Cloud’s fingers as he touched the large beams at the start. No green oxidation either. It was nice for a bridge that was an alternative route.

“I’ll go first,” Zack said.   

The bridge swayed threateningly in the wind. 

Zack and Sephiroth switched positions in the formation as the infantryman and Cloud where ushered forward and then Sephiroth behind them. Cloud’s knees knocked with the creak and shift of the bridge. His knuckles ached with strain of holding to the metal cables so tightly. Sephiroth walked with perfect rhythm to the sway. He didn’t need to hold onto anything or even viably correct his balance. The smell of ozone. The storm. A metal bridge.

Cloud let go of the cables right in time as an arc of lightning reached down and struck the bridge. The sound of it slammed into his ears as a massive impact of Thor’s hammer against the anvil of the sky. No matter how well built the force of the strike broke the bridge in half. They all grabbed onto what was left. Cloud’s heart pounded in his head. In his ears. The left over buzz zipped through his hands and sent his hair on edge. 

If he died so close to home. So close to the finish line of this corporate nightmare. Cloud clung to a broken piece of bridge as a river raged at them below, threatening. What were the options besides Fucking Panic? They couldn’t pull themselves up and they can’t just stay dangling. That only left down. Sephiroth must have come to a similar conclusion because he drops down into the water below without a word. Only way out was through.

He let go.