Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Children ❯ The Ache of Denial ( Chapter 4 )

Shattered Children: Chapter Three

The Ache of Denial

 

He hadn't slept in twenty-four hours but Vincent wasn't ready to give in to the weariness just yet. He suspected that the three brothers, whose names he had finally discovered, were going to leave eventually. He wanted to be ready at a moment's notice to slip in and rescue Zack and Elena. Both were in dire need of medical attention.

 

Vincent shifted cautiously on his tree, careful not to shake the branches as he tried to find a more comfortable position. He watched as the boy, whom he had finally learned was named Kadaj, kicked the largest in the side, waking him up from a noisy, snoring sleep. Loz, the eldest, snorted and awoke with a huge yawn.

 

“What is it, nii-chan?” he asked, rising to his feet and stretching out the kinks from his bones and muscles. Even this far away, it was easy for Vincent to hear their voices and discern what they were saying.

 

“We're leaving,” Kadaj answered, already moving to their piles of collected items and rifling through it for something that Vincent couldn't identify from the distance.

 

The middle brother, Yazoo, spoke up, “To find our mother, Loz,” he explained. He was always the one to clarify for the eldest, Vincent had come to learn. He suspected that Loz was a bit behind in intelligence compared to the other two. Though he more than made up for it with his speed and strength.

 

“What about these guys?” Loz asked, nudging the unconscious Zack and Elena with the toe of his boot. Neither stirred.

 

Kadaj sniffed disdainfully. “Leave them,” he stated, pulling what looked like a sheath from the pile and clasping it to his back. “They aren't moving anytime soon.”

 

The elder laughed. “Yeah, they were no fun after all.” He cracked his knuckles, punching one fist into his palm.

 

“If they die, then we will have no problems,” Yazoo added with a nonchalant shrug. “We have what we need.”

 

Their flippancy annoyed Vincent. It reminded him all too much of Hojo and made him sick on his stomach. He twitched in his hiding spot but resolved not to move, at least for the moment. The three might have looked as if they were children, but he was certain that strength lay within them. A strength he couldn't overcome entirely on his own.

 

They made a few more tasteless comments, gathering up their weapons and readying themselves before finally taking off on a trio of cycles that Vincent recognized as being ShinRa brand. He could only believe that they had stolen them and were now planning on taking a boat from Bone Village to the Midgarian mainland. In any case, it seemed that Kadaj, though the youngest, was the leader. He filed that information for further use later.

 

He waited for the length of an entire hour, on the off chance that they might return for a forgotten item or something similar. But when they did not, Vincent finally stirred from his hiding spot. He carefully climbed out of the tree and hopped to the ground without making a sound before creeping into the camp.

 

It was completely silent, only the wind in the trees accompanying him. He made his way to Zack and Elena first, where they were tied up on the ground and crouched to check their vitals. Zack didn't stir as Vincent pressed fingers to his throat, but his heartbeat was strong and sure. Blood was caked on his forehead and he had bruises all over his skin, some dark green and purple, others still bright red. One arm was twisted brutally, the shoulder at an angle that wasn't healthy. Yet, he would live.

 

Vincent turned his attentions to Elena, noting that her breathing was at least normal. She stirred as he laid the back of his hand against her forehead, which was hot and streaked with sweat. Brown eyes opened briefly, blearily trying to focus on him.

 

“Valen... tine...” she croaked, body twitching slightly before she abandoned all attempts at consciousness and slipped back into oblivion once more. It was probably for the best. She was probably in an incredible amount of pain.

 

He needed to get the both of them out of there before the brothers returned.

 

Vincent dug out his phone and promptly hit speed dial, calling Cid in an instant. As if he had been holding his own cell in his hand, the pilot answered before the first ring even finished.

 

“Vince! What the hell's goin' on?”

 

Understandable since it had been a few days since he had last contacted the pilot.

 

“I need you up here, chief,” Vincent responded. “I've got to transport two injured out and quickly.”

 

Cid seemed to understand the urgency. “I better get an explanation later,” he replied in a warning tone. “I'm near the ruins of Icicle. I should be there in twenty.”

 

“Hurry,” the former Turk encouraged as Zack shuddered, likely trapped in some terrible nightmare. “They are badly wounded.”

 

“Got it.” Cid fumbled with the phone and Vincent could tell that he was briefly covering the receiver, though that didn't matter since his hollering was clear enough anyways. “All right you bastards, get this baby off the ground!” Cid returned to the phone. “See you soon, Vince.”

 

And then the phone went dead.

 

The gunman shook his head. Cid would never change. He slipped his cell back into his pocket and turned his attention back to Zack and Elena. He used his pocket knife to cut the ropes binding their wrists and ankles, grimacing at the angry red lines that were seeping blood beneath the twine. He tried to coax the both of them to drink a potion but mostly ended up spilling it over their faces. He poured the bubbling, cool liquid over the wounds he could see and tried to make them comfortable.

 

His first aid training wasn't the best but it was better than nothing. Vincent attempted a few of the Cures he had in stock but they simply weren't strong enough. Many of the wounds and bruising were deeper than his limited capabilities. The rest would have to wait until he could get them to Junon.

 

With nothing more he could do for the two, he rose to his feet and set about to snooping around the campsite. The tents were devoid of anything important save rumpled bed rolls. He investigated the pile of items that Kadaj had been looking through earlier. Vincent found basic camping supplies and strangely enough, a huge chest buried beneath the random odds and ends. Children, these three definitely were.

 

Yet, judging from what he could find, they hadn't been staying here in the forest for a long time. In fact, it looked to be more of a recent home. He wondered where they had lived before. Were they remnants of Hojo's experiments recently escaped? Or had they been around for a lot longer, hiding and waiting for the right opportunity?

 

Vincent opened the huge chest after breaking the pathetic lock and looked inside. It was mostly empty except for a few materia rolling around the bottom. Light pink and yellow... support materia basically. Nothing too terrible or dangerous. But the chest definitely looked as if it were supposed to hold a lot more. But as far as he could recall, he didn't remember them taking anything like materia with them.

 

He closed the lid with a thoughtful frown. What were those three after?

 

Above him, the sound of many rotors attracted his attention. He looked up as a great gust of wind blew his hair around his face, rattling the skeletal branches of the trees. The Valenwind came into view, hovering over his general area. Thanks to his PHS, it was possible for Cid to easily zero in on his location.

 

Vincent rose to his feet, watching as the bottom panel of the airship slid aside and the hatch opened. A platform began to lower with a barely noticeable whirr and he could make out Cid and the crew braced on it. It was a good thing that Cid had designed the platform because the Valenwind wouldn't have been able to land in such a small area.

 

The bottom of the metal hit the ground of the clearing. “Stretchers get the injured,” Cid ordered, blue eyes immediately surveying the scene. He was already striding off the platform, heading towards the patiently waiting ex-Turk.

 

“Yes, Captain!” the ten or so crew members shouted in unison, snapping to attention and quickly getting to work. Cid had trained them well.

 

Relieved that the two would finally receive care, Vincent turned his attention towards his approaching lover. “That was faster than expected,” he remarked.

 

“As if my baby would be anything but,” Cid responded with a snort. He peered at his lover with a critical eye, looking for any injuries that he should be worried about.

 

Vincent rolled his eyes. “I'm fine, Cid.”

 

“Just makin' sure.”

 

A hand tangled in the front of Vincent's cloak as he was pulled towards the pilot, their lips meeting in a brusque kiss. Despite his discomfort with public displays, Vincent allowed it, knowing that his lover worried at length any time Vincent was gone from his sight for too long. And considering his behavior, the nightmares and such, before he left, Cid had right to be concerned.

 

“Miss me?” Vincent asked, somewhat jokingly.

 

“Don't ask stupid questions.” Cid looked around, raking a hand through his hair and dislodging his ever present goggles. Vincent had often teased him that he would have a permanent mark on his forehead because of them. “What's going on here?”

 

The ex-Turk frowned, watching as his lover's crew gently situated Zack and Elena into the stretchers to prepare them for transport back onto the ship. “It's hard to explain but it seems I wasn't entirely wrong about Jenova. She's back with three new puppets to carry out her orders.”

 

The pilot pulled his palm over his face in disbelief. “Weren't we done with this shit with Sephiroth?” he muttered rhetorically into his hand. “As if one hadn't been bad enough.”

 

“I have to stay here, Cid,” Vincent stated in all seriousness, knowing that the fact would upset his lover but having no choice in the matter. “I don't know what they are going to do next but I need to keep an eye on them. I'm certain that they will return here eventually.”

 

Blue eyes the color of the sky peered at him through calloused fingers, Cid's expression unreadable before the pilot growled and threw up his hands in defeat. “It's no use arguing,” he grumbled to himself, shoving a finger in Vincent's face. “But I don't want to hear nothin' about you dying on me. You're not fuckin' allowed.”

 

Vincent allowed a small smile to pull at his lips. “Don't worry. I have no intentions of doing so just yet.”

 

“Good.” Cid half-turned to glance behind him, noting that his crew was ready to depart and was only waiting on his command. “I know you're a great and powerful Turk but... be careful.”

 

“That goes without saying. I'll call you when I find out more.”

 

“Tch.” Cid turned away from him, back a bit more stiff than usual. He was worried and didn't want to show it too outwardly. “Make sure you do.”

 

He strode away from his lover, long, lingering goodbyes not their style. “All right! Let's get this thing back up! And carefully!”

 

“Yes, Captain!”

 

Vincent allowed himself another small smile as he took a step backwards and watched the platform rise with its burdens atop it. No, heartfelt glances and anxious waves of goodbye weren't really their status quo. He refrained from doing so and turned away, pulling out his phone once more. He had one more call yet to make.

 

He waited until the noise of the Valenwind had vanished before dialing Reeve. The President answered on the tail end of the second ring, sounding half-desperate and slightly breathless.

 

“Vincent?”

 

“I'm sending Zack and Elena to you now,” the ex-Turk explained without worrying about exchanging idle pleasantries.

 

He cast a well-trained eye over the campsite around him, looking for obvious signs of his presence other than Zack and Elena being missing. He didn't want the three to realize that he was that nearby and watching them. Other than the lock being broken on the chest, there was nothing plainly evident.

 

“They are alive?” Reeve questioned, his voice filled with relief.

 

The gunman nodded though the other man couldn't see it. “For the most part, but I can't say for how long. Any word on Sephiroth?”

 

Reeve sighed, the strain in his voice clear as day. “Unfortunately, no. He is still ignoring his phone. What have you learned?” Vincent half-imagined that he was rubbing his forehead, trying to quell the oncoming headache.

 

“Not much to be honest. They are heading to the mainland but I have a feeling they will return eventually. I will keep watch until then.”

 

“I understand.” There was a squeak, likely Reeve leaning back in his chair. “This is all becoming terribly complicated. You have no idea where they will be going?”

 

Vincent frowned, nudging something beneath his feet and turning it over. But there was nothing of importance there. “They mentioned something about going to look for their mother so my guess would be Junon. I don't know what they managed to learn from Zack and Elena, if anything at all.”

 

“I see.” There was a moment's pause as Reeve contemplated this new information. “It's enough that the two of them are safe. We'll just have to hope that the brothers turn up without harming anyone in the process.”

 

The possibility of that was slim but Vincent didn't think he needed to tell Reeve that. “There is a chance that they may be coming after you,” he suggested, the thought occurring to him. “If they are anything like Sephiroth, then they will carry great hatred for ShinRa. You are the closest thing to it right now. Be on your guard.”

 

“And you as well. Don't take unnecessary risks. I don't think Cid will forgive me if something were to happen to you.... again.”

 

It shouldn't have been a joke but Vincent found it somewhat amusing nonetheless. Thinking of his lover, and what Cid had told him, Vincent knew that Reeve was right.

“I know. Goodbye, Reeve.”

 

He snapped the phone shut, double-checked that it was still silent, and slid the device back into his pocket. He cast one more glance over the campsite, but there was no more information to be found. He turned and crept back into the darkness, returning to his perch.

 

He had nothing left to do but wait for them to make their move.

 

******

 

Ring. Ring.

 

Oblivious to the silence of the room, and the fact that it was unoccupied, the phone continued to ring loudly, a request for someone to listen. The apartment, shared by Zack and Sephiroth, had been empty for the past couple of days, ever since Zack had left for the WRO headquarters. Of course, it hadn't seen its other tenant in three weeks either.

 

Dishes still sat stacked in the sink, waiting until someone got around to washing them and two bedrooms slowly collected dust. It was more of a place to keep their belongings than a real home since both men were frequently absent. But it was comfortable and it was solid, and it was there so they kept it anyways.

 

With a shrill beep, the answering machine suddenly bleeped on, cutting off the sound of the ringing as Zack's voice filled the house. “You've reached Sephiroth and Zack, or at least you tried to. Good luck there. Leave a message and we'll call you back. If this is Sephiroth, than you better get your scrawny ass home and stop making people worry. Peace!”

 

A low drone echoed in the room before Aeris' voice poured through the speaker. “Zack? It's Aeris. I can't seem to get through on your cell phone, you might want to get that checked out. I'm trying to get in touch with Sephiroth. It's Denzel. I'm worried about him. He's fighting but he's scared and frankly, I am, too. Please, call me back when you get this. Thanks, Zack.”

 

There was a click and silence reigned once more. The tape in the answering machine beeped and stopped, expecting the next message. The machine was already blinking red, signaling that two messages were waiting to be heard.

 

Despite the fact that the actual residents weren't home, a slim, leather-covered finger reached out and pressed the rewind button, listening intently as the tape whirred to life.

 

“So,” Yazoo stated with some interest, cocking his head to the side. “Our older brother is missing, it seems. He has been hearing Mother's call.”

 

“Don't presume too much, Yazoo,” another voice answered from the hall, having wandered casually around the home that didn't belong to him. Kadaj stepped into the darkened living room, briefly illuminated by the light from the window. “We knew it would be too easy to track him here.”

 

The youngest brother frowned, flipping the card in his hand and peering intently at the words on the laminated surface. “That man would have protected it more if he thought our brother was in any real danger.” The card caught the light and for a brief moment the name “Loire” and a flash of spiky black hair could be seen before it promptly disappeared back in Kadaj's pocket.

 

Suddenly, there was a crash and a clatter from the kitchen, followed by the sound of cursing. The two younger brothers turned their attention to the doorway where pots and pans suddenly went rolling by, making quite the racket. Kadaj groaned and covered his face with one hand. Loz wasn't ever going to be the most graceful.

 

“Whoops,” Loz said, appearing in the doorway with a sheepish grin. He kicked at one of the fallen pots and it shot across the room, clanging loudly against a far wall before dropping back down to the floor. “He isn't here, nii-chan.”

 

“How wonderfully astute of you,” Yazoo commented dryly, rolling his eyes.

 

The eldest brother frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Shut up, 'Zoo. We can't all be as quick as you.”

 

Yazoo shrugged with an elegant flip of his hair. “In any case, I wonder where he can be found. Perhaps with that man again?”

 

“No,” Kadaj inserted with a shake of his head. “He hides from one, he hides from all.”

 

“Do ya think he knows where mother is?” Loz asked, strolling over to the hallway where several pictures hung. He frowned at one, flicking it with his finger and causing it to crash to the ground, the glass splintering over cheesy smiling faces.

 

Kadaj didn't answer, however. His brow furrowed as he crossed his arms, thinking deeply. In the back of his mind, he could feel the subtle whispers, the grasping touches of Jenova. She wanted him to find Sephiroth, to bring her favored son back to her. It pissed him off, but he wouldn't think of ignoring her. Besides, even if he had wanted to, he couldn't.

 

“Nii-chan?”

 

The youngest brother blinked and lifted his gaze. “Head to Midgar,” he told them, one hand digging in his pocket for his phone and pulling it out.

 

“Why?” Yazoo questioned.

 

“It isn't hard for me to guess our brother's thoughts,” Kadaj answered distractedly, one finger cycling through the numbers on the answering machine until he located the one he needed. “I am certain he is in that area. It is, after all, where our other brother died.”

 

Loz snorted. “Midgar?” he said, shaking his head. “That place is nothing more than ruins. There's nothing there.”

 

“And that's the reason why brother goes there,” Yazoo explained thoughtfully, suddenly understanding Kadaj's rationale. “To remember.”

 

Kadaj nodded, hitting the buttons to dial a number he knew by heart before holding it to his ear. “Exactly.” As the other end rang, he gestured his brothers to follow him out of the apartment, not bothering to lock it behind them. He wanted them to know someone had been there.

 

He watched as Yazoo and Loz climbed on their bikes. “I'll join you as soon as my business is finished here. Don't kill brother just yet,” he ordered as they started up the engines with a set of twin roars. “Mother still plans on using him.”

 

Yazoo watched Kadaj carefully as he said this, something unnameable behind his gaze. “And what are we to her, I wonder?” he muttered to himself as his elder brother laughed beside him, obviously thinking of Sephiroth's fate and prepared to enjoy the opportunity to play. “Come Loz.”

 

With a final smirk, Loz followed after Yazoo, the two of them speeding down the street to head out of Junon. Kadaj wasn't concerned for them. He would be following in a moment. But first, he had a few things to take care of.

 

On his phone, a voice mail finally picked up. The answer was mercifully brief, and something in Kadaj's expression softened as he listened to the familiar voice.

 

“It's me,” he began, knowing he would be immediately recognized. “Meet me at the usual spot in an hour. I'll be waiting.”

 

Short and sweet as always. He ended the call and quickly dialed another number, one he had learned from the machine inside. Kadaj leaned against his bike as he waited for the call to connect, a strange excitement building inside as he thought of the meeting that was to come. But also, a sadness was growing as well. Because he knew what he had to do.

 

He never should have allowed himself this happiness in the first place.

 

On the other end, the phone was answered after the first ring. “Tuesti here.”

 

“I know you have mother,” Kadaj began without introduction, diving swiftly into the topic at hand. He crossed one arm over his belly, trying for nonchalant. “Where is she?”

 

There was a swift intake of breath on the other end. “You!”

 

“Yes, me. Your little pets told me everything. They weren't that strong after all.” He paused for effect, eyes narrowing in anger. “Where is she?”

 

“Dead, or haven't you heard?” the WRO's figure head responded, almost cockily.

 

Kadaj's fingers tightened around his phone and he heard the slim plastic give a creak in protest. “You're leading me on,” he declared through clenched teeth. “And I hate liars.”

 

“It is only you who believes I am lying,” Reeve countered, though the waver in his voice belied his bravado.

 

In the back of his mind, mother was growing irritated with the audacity of this mind. It made Kadaj's own blood began to boil. “That is because I think you do have mother there.” The youngest brother paused. “In fact, I know,” he hissed.

 

“We have nothing,” Reeve insisted emphatically. Yet Kadaj could tell that the President was growing worried, afraid even. “Now, where are Zack and Elena? What have you done to them?”

 

He waved dismissively as he straddled his bike, prepared to ride off and join his brothers. “Why should I answer your questions when you can't answer mine?” Kadaj countered nonchalantly, pretending to study his fingers.

 

There was a low curse on the other end as Reeve failed to disguise his anger. “What do you want from us?” the WRO figure head demanded in a low tone.

 

Kadaj smirked. “No need to be vulgar, Mr. President. I think that we can come to some sort of agreement, don't you?”

 

“I don't negotiate with terrorists.”

 

The silver-haired man sniffed imperiously. “Pity,” Kadaj drawled. “I'll be seeing you.”

 

Before the other man could say anything further Kadaj promptly pressed the END CALL button, cutting him off. He immediately turned his phone off, just in case the President was capable of tracing the call as well. Shoving the cell into his pocket, Kadaj let loose a low, taunting chuckle.

 

Strangely enough, in the back of his mind, he could feel the trickle of mother's amusement, her glee. She was more than ready for blood, for the destruction that was to come. And like a loyal servant, Kadaj was prepared to grant it to her.

 

In however many pieces she wanted.

 

*****

 

The Midgar Zolom had never been a challenge to him. He remembered a time when ShinRa soldiers had quivered in fear at just the thought of the monster. Now, he could defeat one with just a single slash from his sword, or a cast of any one of the materia in his arsenal. It was pathetically easy.

 

Sephiroth didn't even bother to fight them anymore. He just sped across the murky waters of the swamp on Odin and shot through the cave connecting to the other half of the continent. With the speed of his bike, he could usually cross from Junon to Midgar in a span of two days, and even faster if the weather was clear.

 

A part of him looked forward to returning home, even if another part of him clenched in uneasiness, wondering what he would have to hide this time around. He knew he couldn't avoid seeing Tseng either. Even if he didn't know what he was going to say, he knew he had to somehow fix the tension that was building between them. Either that or end it, which he was loathe to do.

 

He shot out of the cave with a roar of the motor, a small crowd of birds fleeing at the mere sound of him. Not that he paid their actions any attention. Something buzzed in his pocket and he belatedly realized that it was his cell phone ringing again. They were being awfully persistent lately, despite knowing he never answered.

 

Sephiroth bit back on the throttle, slowing down just a tad as he dug a hand into his pocket, fumbling around for the vibrating PHS. But before he could even answer it or glance at the Caller ID, he heard the sound of motors that didn't belong to him. Which was strange considering that he knew there were few that dared travel nowadays thanks to the mutant monsters and such.

 

He flickered his gaze around, looking over his shoulder to see two cycles, smaller than his own, approaching on either side. From the distance, however, he couldn't make out the identity of the riders. And it didn't look as if they were just casual travelers either. His every sense went on alert as he pocketed his phone and revved the motor.

 

Odin responded quickly, eagerly shooting forward with a loud rumble that made its entire frame shudder. The wind from his speed caused his hair to whip around him, but it was a distraction he could handle. Sephiroth dared a look over his shoulder, spotting one of the two appearing to lift his arm.

 

It had to be a signal of some sort. Were there more foes hiding behind the rocks around him?

 

His questions were answered when seconds later, beasts seemed to spring from the ground, rising from a dark mist and coalescing into dangerous beings. They resembled skeletal wolves with spines all over their bodies and long, whipcord tails that could easily punch a hole through a man's body. No longer wanting to question, Sephiroth quickly activated the compartment for the Murasame and withdrew the long sword.

 

It was just in time to slash at a monster as it sprang at him, the beast dissolving back into fine black mist the moment his sword passed through it. They were strangely quiet creatures, neither panting nor growling as they attacked and their feet didn't make a sound on the rocky ground. Almost as if they were only specters or something similar. But he didn't have the opportunity to analyze. More were springing towards him.

 

Silver flashed through the air and three more beasts fell to his sword. His bike swerved slightly and he struggled to maintain control of it, losing some of his speed in the process. Another beast launched itself at him and he cursed under his breath. The damn things were pretty relentless, reminding him a bit of the battle against Doomtrain. He slashed through that one and it was then that he noticed his two pursuers had managed to catch up in the meantime.

 

“Where is mother?” A deep voice demanded over the roar of their motors and the whistle of the wind.

 

From his other side, the second male commented, “We've been looking for you, brother.”

 

He felt something inside of him warm and grow cold all at the same time as he finally laid his gaze on the two travelers. His eyes widened in surprise. He had never seen another person in his entire life with hair the same shade as his. And their eyes... they were also a direct match for his. And why did they call him 'brother'? What the hell was going on in Gaia?

 

“M-mother?” he repeated, another sense of deja vu attacking him. Pain raked across his mind, a fierce and yet sibilant whisper, and Sephiroth winced, faltering slightly.

 

“You should be joining us,” the one on his left stated, steering his bike closer. He tilted his head to the side in a somewhat seductive manner. “Help us to find her.”

 

Sephiroth gritted his teeth. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he growled over the noise of three motors, his heart beating a mad rhythm in his chest. Desperate for some type of grounding, his fingers tightened on the hilt of the Murasame.

 

The larger man, the one on his right, laughed and jerked his bike uncomfortably close. Sephiroth reacted quickly, veering Odin away from a potentially dangerous collision. The tires rolled over the stubby, rocky ground, bumping uncomfortably. Things weren't looking too good for him.

 

“You'll know soon enough!” the one on the right announced, lifting one of his hands and revealing that he held a weapon.

 

In one brief glance, the most that Sephiroth could discern was that it resembled a really short blade and a rifle at the same time. He ducked down purely on instinct, lifting up the Murasame just in time to block the shot aimed for his head. The bullet nicked the upper edge, careening away from him. If he had been just a millisecond later...

 

His opponent smirked and the other laughed. “Too slow!” the large one shouted, veering in close once more and aiming a fist at Sephiroth.

 

The shadows merged from the ground once more, becoming loping, skeletal beasts with a deadly hunger. Gritting his teeth, Sephiroth pushed Odin into a screeching whirl to avoid the attack of the nearest creature in the same moment as he lifted the Murasame, slashing out at one of the two men. The larger one swerved to avoid and Sephiroth quickly changed the angle of his attack, swiping upwards to cleave through a shadow monster.

 

A shot cracked the air.

 

Sephiroth jerked to the side but was too late. The bullet caught him across the side of his temple, sending pain racing through his skull. He could feel the warm blood dripping down his face, even as the tingle of mako began to work on the wound. He grimaced, trying to peer through the blood dripping into his eyes when sharp fire suddenly spread through his left arm.

 

He doubled over at the sudden agony, forcing Odin to screech to a halt as he began to lose control when his fingers spasmed, arm going numb. Sephiroth cursed under his breath, peering through a haze of pain to see the two speeding past him, their shadowy minions disappearing in a fine spray of black mist once more.

 

“We'll be waiting, brother,” the smaller male called over his shoulder with a smirk before he revved his engine and the two disappeared into the distance, heading towards Junon.

 

Sephiroth growled low in his throat, annoyed that he would be beaten by what looked to be children before grimacing, more fire prickling at his skin. He hunched over his bike, his sword dropping to the ground as he clutched at his arm. He could handle pain, he reminded himself, he was used to pain. Hojo had made certain of that.

 

But this agony was altogether something different, as if his body was trying to consume itself. He knew what it was, of course. He would have to be blind and deaf not to. Geostigma, the same disease attacking the children had always sunk its claws into him. He could feel the sickness throbbing through him, stealing away his strength.

 

Worse than that was the voice on the edge of his mind. The familiar whispers that he had once thought he could no longer hear. But they were there again, entirely unwelcome yet he had no choice but to listen.

 

My child. See the pain that this planet has caused you? Return to me. Return to me, my son. I will make you whole.

 

You are mine.

 

He felt them, the burning fires of Nibelheim, the screams of the innocent as his sword and fell in a bloody rain. He heard her laughter, her encouragement, relived his own anger and fear. Relived it all on the tail end of the pain as she whispered to him.

 

Sephiroth squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his jaw against those treacherous requests and tried to think of something, anything else really. Denzel's innocent smile. Zack's raucous laugh. Tseng's drowning kisses. The little things he clung to in moments of weakness when he was almost overwhelmed by the calls of Jenova.

 

More pain joined the fire in his arm, as if a silent refusal to allow him peace. He could feel the wound seeping and creeping across his skin, dirtying the bandage he had learned to keep wrapped around it. From the top of his arm to his elbow, across the backs of his shoulders, and still it longed to stretch further, trying to swallow him completely.

 

It truly was as if the Planet had chosen to punish them and him in particular. Which he couldn't blame it for. But the children, they didn't deserve to suffer. Not Denzel. All he wanted to do was live and smile... and be happy.

 

Sephiroth couldn't help but wonder if the Geostigma was his fault in some way.

 

It was several agonizing minutes later when the pain faded enough that he felt he could move from his coiled position and the pleadings of an alien woman disappeared from his mind. The former General gasped tiredly, unclenching his fingers and swiping at the sweat on his brow, coming away with blood as well. He purposefully let his mind go blank as he probed gingerly at the wound at his temple, but it had already closed completely, leaving nothing but streaks of blood.

 

Small favors.

 

Sephiroth sighed and leaned down carefully, grasping the Murasame and carefully wiping the road grit from the gleaming blade. Beneath him the Odin continued to rumble as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. He let his mind remain mercifully empty as he returned the Murasame to its usual compartment.

 

He took one, then two deep, steadying breaths and then allowed himself to think. The pain faded away to a few twinges as he dug out his phone, finally checking the missed call. It had been Aeris. The thought of speaking to her and Denzel at the moment however, was not appealing. Not when his body was still faintly trembling and he spun with questions.

 

He needed to know who those two were and what they meant by 'mother'. He needed to know why they called him brother and why looked so much like him. Sephiroth needed answers.

 

He called Reeve.

 

“Tuesti,” Sephiroth stated crisply once the man picked up, sounding tired and worn down. “I need answers,” he finished, using his best 'General' tone.

 

There was a moment of silence before a sigh of relief echoed through the receiver. “I'll do my best.”

 

His arm ached but it was something he could easily ignore. Sephiroth lifted his gaze, eyes tracing the path the two men had taken towards Junon. “What is going on? Why are there two men who resemble me? And what did they mean by mother? I know you must have some clue.”

 

“What?” Reeve exclaimed in astonishment. “They came after--”

 

The call cut off before the WRO President could even finish his statement.

 

Pursing his lips in irritation, he looked at his phone and noticed that the battery warning light was blinking at him. Dammit. He had known it was getting low but not that low. It seemed his answers would have to wait.

 

If those men looked like him and spoke of 'mother' then it was likely Hojo had something to do with it. He dreaded to think what else that damned scientist had concocted. He had no choice but to wait until those men showed up again. And then, he would get his answers.

 

Sephiroth's now useless phone returned to his pocket and he reached for the handlebars, revving his engine. A quick glance told him he had plenty of fuel to get to Fort Condor for one last side trip.

 

If the time for his final retribution was coming, then he was determined to be prepared.

 

For better or worse.

 

****

 

Archer was beginning to grow anxious. He dared a glance at his watch again, noting that only three minutes had passed since the last time he looked. Meaning it was now twenty minutes beyond the time they were supposed to meet. He craned his neck to look out into the street, but could see no sign of his date.

 

This would have be the third time he had been stood up. Concern was riding on the forefront of his mind. He had known that his lover was acting strangely lately, but had pushed it aside and blamed it on paranoia. Perhaps he should have been more suspicious?

 

He had more than thrilled to open his phone and find he had a message waiting in his voice mail left only a few minutes before. After throwing an excuse at Reeve, one he couldn't repeat now even if he tried, he had run out the door, anticipation beating loudly in his heart.

 

Archer didn't really have a good explanation for anything. If someone had asked him why or how, he didn't think he could put it into words. But what he felt he wouldn't deny. Nor would he give up. It was as if he had finally found that piece, the final bit to the greatest invention of his life he had been looking for.

 

All he knew was that when green eyes looked up at him, he didn't see anything else.

 

A sudden noise at the entrance to the alley gathered his attention. He jerked his eyes excitedly, a form stepping out of the crowds into the slight dimness between two buildings. There was a glint of something silver, a bare hint of movement, and then a warm body was in his arms, lips pressed to his. It always galled him that his younger lover was taller than him.

 

But for the moment, that was the last thing on his mind. He closed his arms around his lover and deepened the kiss, tongue dancing through familiar territory. All of the anxiety's and the worries felt as if they were bleeding out of him. Just knowing that Kadaj was safe was enough to ease his concern by a great deal.

 

“You look like hell, Kyle,” Kadaj commented once the kiss had ended. He had taken to calling Archer by his last name as a joke and somehow, it had stuck like that. Not that Archer minded all too much.

 

“Archer Kyle? That's kind of backwards isn't it? Compared to the usual I mean?”

 

Amethyst eyes sparkled warmly at the brief memory. “Just a few crises. Nothing I can't handle.” The palm of his hand brushed down his lover's back, feeling the warmth and suppleness of leather beneath his touch. “You, on the other hand, look great Touki.”

 

“Don't I always?” Kadaj responded cheekily, closing the distance between them for another heart-stopping, consuming kiss.

 

It was all Archer could do not to lose himself in the moment, forcing himself to remember that they were in some back alley, away from prying eyes but still nowhere wonderful. Not to mention Kadaj had been missing for about two weeks now and had been acting strangely before that.

 

Their lips parted, enabling Archer to speak as he continued their earlier line of conversation. “Yes but the leather...” he trailed off, wondering when his lover had decided to change his usual attire. It was practically melded to the pale skin, displaying every curve of his body. “I want to peel it off.”

 

Kadaj rolled his eyes. “You would have me naked all the time if you could,” he accused, but there was a note of fondness to his tone rather than irritation.

 

“It's a possibility,” Archer admitted, and before he could talk himself out of it, he avoided the questions for another moment more.

 

He tangled his fingers in silver strands and tilted Kadaj's head to kiss him once more, never able to get enough of the taste of his lover's lips. A mixture of innocence and sorrow, regret and anger, there was so much emotion to be found in everything that Kadaj was that sometimes Archer wondered if he were drowning in it. Maybe that was why he was so addicted.

 

Kadaj eagerly returned the kiss, pressing his slimmer body against Archer's with an air of unrequited need. Arms coiled tighter around the engineer's neck, tongues tangling together. Archer felt a sense of desperation to the embrace, a hungry sorrow in their kiss. It was as if Kadaj was desperately trying to hold back his emotions but at the same time unable to do so. Almost like he knew he was saying goodbye.

 

Those worries and questions cropped up again, taking away his enjoyment from the long desired reunion. He broke off the kiss, growing serious. “Where've you been, Touki?” he asked, looking into green eyes that always captivated him.

 

Kadaj cut his eyes to the side, unable to meet his gaze. “It's better if you don't know,” he replied after a moment, tongue snaking out to moisten his lips.

 

“What do you mean?” Archer asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. “What's going on?” He didn't like the tone of voice that his lover was using, something resigned and defeated.

 

“There's some stuff going on,” Kadaj began in a vague explanation. “Some things I have to take care of.” He chewed on his lip and withdrew with a sense of reluctance, returning his gaze to Archer. “It's probably best if you forget about me, Kyle.”

 

His heart began a strange rhythm in his chest. “What are you talking about?” Archer demanded, reaching to draw his lover back to him. He didn't like the look in Kadaj's eyes.

 

But the younger man took a step out of his reach. “Look, I can't tell you. I don't want you to get hurt so just pretend you never knew me.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “And... get out of Junon.”

 

“What do you mean, 'out of Junon'?”

 

Instead of explaining, Kadaj looked away from him, his eyes focusing on something that Archer's couldn't see. His face was clouded by fear and something else, something that Archer couldn't quite place. His senses prickled warningly.

 

“It's probably not safe here. Not anymore.”

 

Confusion growing even further, Archer again reached for the silver-haired male. “I don't understand,” he began, concerned by the skittish way Kadaj was acting. “Kadaj, I can't just--”

 

“You have to!” Kadaj argued, interrupting him in a sharp tone full of such command that even Archer was taken aback for a moment. “Forget you ever knew me. Forget everything!”

 

With those bewildering words, Kadaj slashed his hand through the air and turned, darting out of the alley where they had been concealing themselves.

 

Amethyst eyes widened and Archer had the sudden fear that this would be the last time he ever saw his lover alive if he didn't stop him now. He raced out of the alley after him, skidding to a halt when he saw the sheer mass of people passing by in the street.

 

“Kadaj!” he yelled, despite knowing it was futile. If Kadaj wasn't willing to stay, then he wasn't going to answer a call.

He frantically tried to spot unusual silver hair or dark leather in the crowd, but it was as if his lover had vanished into thin air. There was no sign of him, not even a hint of the direction he could have taken. Strangers passing by saw the wild look in Archer's eyes and shied away from him, otherwise, no one was paying him any attention.

 

He ground his teeth together, hands clenching into tight fists. What the hell was going on? Archer ground his teeth, his hands clenching into fists. What the hell was going on? And just when he was starting to grow close to the other male. What was that fear? That worry? And Junon? How wasn't it safe anymore? Did it have something to do with Jenova? Was Kadaj connected to all that after all?

 

He had known from the beginning that Sephiroth was the only person in the world with hair of that color. He didn't know why either. The first time he had seen Kadaj his first instinct had been one of curiosity and perhaps a bit of wariness. But after talking to the boy and getting to know him, he had been convinced there was nothing to be concerned about. Or was that only because he had already fallen for him? Had he let his own loneliness blind him?

 

He had asked Reeve and the others but as far as they knew, Sephiroth never had any brothers and the Jenova experiments ended with Sephiroth. Archer knew that he was probably taking a risk but he couldn't just say no. There was something in Kadaj's eyes, there had always been something in his eyes, that was begging to be believed.

 

The circular questions were killing him.

 

It was in that moment that his phone chose to ring, jangling noisily in his pocket from where he had forgotten to turn it silent. Cursing under his breath, Archer dug out the annoying contraption, not even bothering to look at the name on the face.

 

“Hello?” he answered a bit more harshly than he intended.

 

“Are you busy?” He recognized the voice in an instant. It was Reeve.

 

Archer looked around him, straining for one last glance of Kadaj. But it was futile. His lover was gone to who knows where for who knows what reason.

 

“Not anymore,” the engineer responded, tone filled with defeat. He shoved his free hand into his pocket and turned his feet in the direction of the WRO headquarters.

 

“Good. I just received a few strange calls, including one from Sephiroth. He was trying to ask me something but his phone cut off. I need everyone back at the office. And right now, that's basically just you.”

 

Archer sighed. “Is it those three again?” he asked. 'Those three who resemble my Touki according to what Sion said?' he reminded himself.

 

“Maybe. We don't know.” Reeve let out a breath of exasperation. “We're trying to track them down now.”

 

“I understand.” The engineer glanced around, reading a sign post and judging his distance from the building. “I'm not that far. I should be there within ten minutes.

 

He closed the phone before Reeve could say anything else and shoved it into his pocket. The president would understand given the current situation. Everything was blowing up around them before they could get a handle on it. Archer could only hope that another long and drawn out war wasn't in the making.

 

He had ten minutes to get his emotions under control. Luckily, he had a lot of skill in doing that. He was certain he could hide it from the others. He didn't want them to know anything had changed.

 

It simply couldn't be coincidence that Kadaj resembled Sephiroth or that he had started acting strangely around the same time that all the other odd events were happening, including the appearance of the Geostigma. It was only in the past month or so, however, that Kadaj had really started to disappear and become difficult to contact. But did that really mean that his Touki was one of the brothers, one of those with Jenova in his veins? The same that had taken and tortured Zack and Elena? Archer's stomach churned at the thought.

 

He didn't want to believe it but the evidence spoke for itself, the evidence that he didn't want to peer too closely at for fear he would have to give up something he didn't want to give up. True Kadaj was much younger than him, but that had nothing to do with his maturity, his knowledge. There was something strong and undeniable about him, something gravitating that he couldn't ignore.

 

And now he was supposed to forget? Just like that? Impossible.

 

Archer couldn't help but wonder if he was cursed to always lose those he cared care for. Because every time he turned around, they were leaving him. It was a never ending loop from which he couldn't escape.

 

And it was entirely unfair.

 

******