FicWad

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Square Enix related indica, such as characters, settings, etc.

WARNINGS: Violence, Language, OC, Evil Pyromaniac Bastards.

Chapter Seven:
Flames

When Cloud woke, the first thing he noticed was that he was cold. That, and his head felt as if someone had cleaved apart his skull with an axe. He heard a weak moan, but couldn't tell where it was coming from. Then he heard another . . . from himself. The moans were coming from him. He didn't need to bother with sitting up, he was already thus. He could tell because he could feel the cold of chilled stone pressed vertically against his bare back. Where was he . . . and where was his shirt for that matter?

He opened his eyes, expecting darkness, but, instead, everything was doused in a soft cerulean glow, which, he soon realized, was coming from his own mako-enhanced eyes. He'd guessed right. He was sitting up, but not on his own volition. That was when he noticed the bite of cold metal against his wrists.

. . . !? . . .

He was shackled to the wall. Now that he'd become aware of his body's situation, he also gained awareness of its discomfort at the position he was in. His arms ached beyond reason, and his knees ground painfully into the icy stone floor. At this realization, an alarm sounded in his mind. If someone tried to hurt him now, he would not be able to fight back or run. He was trapped. He gave a few weak tugs at his accursed metal bonds, but to no avail. His body was weak, and, with each exertion, his head pounded even more, so he decided struggling would not be the most satisfactory choice for himself at this moment.

His eyes had further adjusted to the dim lighting of his prison. Adding this to the light produced by himself, he could now see quite clearly. He was in a small cell. He couldn't see above him, but he assumed there must be a window there. It must have been dark out. That would explain the cold. Midgar's temperature always dropped at night because of its being so close to the Northern coast. Not to mention, winter had officially begun its course. Cloud shivered and continued the observation of his surroundings. The wall in front of him was dedicated solely to a heavy-looking iron door. Both walls to the left and right of him were boarded with wooden planks. He wondered vaguely why a cell would have two walls made of wood, and one made of stone.

Probably so these damned chains can't be pulled away. It's not like I'd be able to free myself from a wooden wall right now either. Why am I so weak now? Isn't mako supposed to make me stronger?

As if to answer his question, that familiar lump returned to his chest. He couldn't see it, as it was not physically there, but he could feel it, and it suffocated him. With the lump, as he'd learned, came the nausea. The last time this had occurred, he'd had no food in his stomach to lose, but now, he wished he hadn't eaten what Sephiroth had offered. He found himself retching on the floor in front of his knees. Great, now he'd have to smell it for Gaia knows how long.

His body had reverted into mako withdrawal, and at the worst possible time. Although his head hurt, he knew it wasn't from his body's lack of mako. This pain was different . . . new. He could feel something matting down his blonde locks, but what? Then he remembered. He'd been hit in the head with a heavy, hard object . . . twice. The thick substance in his hair must be blood, and his attacker must have brought him here.

Who was his attacker? Had Sephiroth been acting the whole time? Had the man turned him in for the sizeable reward he knew had to accompany his capture? Sephiroth certainly looked strong enough to crack his skull.

So . . . it was all just a lie, just a great big lie . . . like Arlex . . .

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. He'd actually begun to trust someone, Sephiroth, and, just like everyone else, he'd betrayed him too. That was it. Never again would he open up to someone. Never again would he so much as speak to anyone else. If the rest of the world's population wouldn't accept him for who he was, he didn't want to be accepted, and he was not about to change himself just for them.

At that moment, the iron door protested loudly as, presumably, someone pushed it open it from the outside. When the bright light from outside his cell reached his eyes, Cloud's fractured head screamed at him. When his vision recovered from being practically blinded, Cloud saw three men enter his cell, all of them wearing dark blue suits. Two of the men, the two largest, Cloud noted, took up guard stances behind the first. The smaller man, though still quite tall and menacing, stepped forward.

"There were no problems getting him Rozz?" The first man spoke to one behind him. Cloud recognized the voice, but couldn't place it.

"No sir." Cloud recognized this voice too, and he could place it. Rozz was the man who'd knocked him unconscious, not Sephiroth.

"Sephiroth didn't interfere?"

"No sir, I waited until he was out of the apartment."

"Good, good." The first man nodded. So, Sephiroth hadn't been a part of this at all. Guilt rose in Cloud's chest, an almost alien weight on his mind. He had never felt sorry for anything he'd done before. He was generally the one bad thing were happening to. He had immediately blamed Sephiroth without much thought after all the man had done for him.

"You left no evidence behind?"

At this question, the big man, Rozz, shifted nervously. At his silence, the smaller man turned.

"Answer my question Rozz." The voice was quiet and threatening, dripping with potential violence.

"Yes sir, there was blood."

"Blood. I thought I told you to make it /clean/." The man's voice had risen to an angry shout. At this, Cloud was able to recognize it fully. This was the same man who had visited Sephiroth earlier that same day. This was the man who's argument with Sephiroth woke him. This man was Tseng. This man was a Turk who had the power to prosecute him for his crime without a trial at all. This man would be his bane if he could not escape. Either that, or the thick green substance in his veins. He knew the mako had healed his skull fracture somewhat, but it also caused him so much pain. He didn't know if he should thank it, or damn it.

Tseng crouched down in front of Cloud and gazed deeply into his eyes. Cloud shivered. Tseng's black eyes held only one emotion, and Cloud rather prayed he had labeled it in error. The Turk's eyes were full of cold, bone chilling hatred.

"Blood . . . How much? Elaborate."

"My tranquilizer jammed. I had to disable him physically. Please forgive me sir, I . . . it's not my fault he bled so much." Tseng stood slowly and turned around.

"Yes, Rozz, it is your fault. You and I both know there are ways to disable a target without leaving so much as a scratch. I knew I couldn't rely on you in Rude's absence. I should have sent the rookie. I bet Reno would have done it right! But no, I chose you, and you fucked up." To Cloud's surprise, Tseng pulled a gun on Rozz and sent a bullet into the man's knee. Rozz fell to the ground writhing in obvious pain.

While Cloud was happy to see the man who had given him such a killer headache serve his punishment, he still didn't feel it was fair. He turned his eyes away and wished his hands were free so he could cover his ears, so as to not hear the man's heavy breathing and pained gasps as he lay there, crippled. His eyes widened at the realization that Tseng was armed. His vision blurred slightly, but he the ailment away. Now would not be a good time to pass out.

"Should I call a medic?" The other big man spoke.

"No, let him feel his pain as punishment for his foolishness. Rozz will remain here for the duration of this entire interrogation. When it is over, you may seek aid for him, but not until then."

The other man remained standing stoically behind Tseng as if nothing had occurred. Tseng turned and glared at him as if he were a filthy rodent, or maybe he was expressing his disgust for the vomit before him. Whichever it was Cloud couldn't truly tell.

Tseng spoke again, this time, to him.

"Thanks to our friend's little mess up, Sephiroth will be hot on our trail. I'm sure of it. Your abduction was meant to look as if you'd run away, but," he glanced to Rozz panting heavily behind him, "you know how that goes."

Tseng stepped forwards and took his chin roughly in a pail hand. Their faces were so close that Cloud was sorely tempted to spit on him, but wisely remembered the other man had a gun.

If he would do that to someone who works for him, what will he do to me?

When Tseng spoke again, the hairs on the back of Cloud's neck stood on end. There was a sense of insanity in his voice. The man was almost laughing.

"I had intended to simply ask you a few questions, and then kill you painlessly with a humane euthanization, but our anaesthesiologist won't arrive until morning. I'm certain Sephiroth will be here by then, so, instead, I'm just going to kill you now to save time. After all, all evidence goes against you. I know you killed that boy. Did you know he was my nephew?" Tseng released his chin with a painful jerking motion.

Cloud looked up to him. If Matthew was truly this man's nephew, why was he in the orphanage in the first place? He further took in the details of Tseng's face. Yes, oddly, he could see a resemblance. The same dark, silky hair. The same cold eyes. The same possessive smirk at having power over someone weaker.

"I searched for my nephew for six /years/, ever since I'd learned my sister had died. When I finally find him, I learn he's been brutally murdered by a disgusting little bastard. Matthew was to become a Turk. He would have been like a son to me."

Cloud flinched at the name. Words usually didn't bother him, but the truth about his father hurt. Tseng punched him in the jaw with an audible crack. The side of his face was greeted by a sudden burst of intolerable pain and he cried out. Slowly, the pain dulled until he could no longer feel the left side of his face at all. He knew his jaw had been broken.

"Normally, under circumstances like these, I would just shoot you without a second thought." Tseng waved the gun in front of him teasingly. "But, since this case falls so close to home, I think a quick death is a little too merciful for a murderer like you."

He turned to the uninjured man behind him.

"Krall," Cloud couldn't understand the rest of Tseng's words, as they were in a language he'd never heard before. Wutanese, he assumed.

Krall left, dragging Rozz behind him.

Tseng faced him again with a maniacal chuckle accompanied by a matching smile. Whatever had been said between the two Turks, he knew, would bode ill for himself.

"Tell me . . . Cloud," his name rolled off the Turks tongue in disgust, "Can you think of a way to die that is both fast, and torturous?"

Cloud could think of many painful ways to die. They all seemed rather quick too, but he didn't wish to go through with any of them. He didn't want to die at all. Not quickly, not painfully. He wasn't ready. He still wanted to live. Before, he hadn't cared. He had always believed that, when his time came, he would be ready. Now he had seen the outside world. More its bad side than its good side, but the good was enough. He wanted to see more, so much more. Besides, how was he to ever find love in this world if he was dead? Could love even be found?

"Yes, I will avenge Matthew, and Sephiroth will be too late. There won't be anything left of you but a pile of black ashes." Tseng's voice was more a growl now than actual words, but all Cloud could register was the meaning of Tseng's words. Ashes? This could not be good.

Krall returned with two objects Cloud wished he'd never seen. A can of what smelled to be fuel, and a lighter.

Cloud finally found his voice to speak. His words were slurred from the numbness of his face, and pain shot through his neck with each syllable, but he didn't care. "No," he pleaded, "You can't. I didn't want to kill him. I didn't mean to. He made me do it!" His voice sounded small and weak. Of course it did. He was scared, and Tseng knew it. The knowledge only seemed to fuel Tseng's insatiable rage. All Cloud received in reply was a bark of laughter.

"You didn't want to do it? Ha! I've never heard such insanity!"

He took the fuel from Krall and began ceremoniously splashing it against the wooden walls and, more specifically, Cloud himself. Cloud shuddered as the cold liquid dripped from his soaked hair and into his eyes. It stung, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. His pants were now drenched in it as well. He had never been so afraid in his life. Never. He was going to die, and painfully at that. He knew anything he said would be futile. The mako withdrawal was ascending to its highest altitude. Sephiroth was no where to be seen, and he was going to burn to death.

He felt the tears welling up in his eyes, but he didn't allow them to fall. He wouldn't. If these next few moments were going to be his last, he was not going to spend them drowning in self-pity, even if he knew it was justified.

Tseng had emptied all of the fuel and took the lighter from Krall's meaty hands. As he lit it, all Cloud could think of was Sephiroth, and how the man would react to learning of his death. Would be sad? Would he even care at all? Would he even know? Cloud shook his head. No one would know, no one would care, no one would mourn the quiet boy who everyone hated. Surely there was nothing on this world for him. Nothing. Thus, he prepared himself for death. He was ready, he only prayed burning alive wasn't as painful as it sounded.
_

Sephiroth's powerful legs pumped as fast as he could make them. He had been running for at least an hour with the tiny bottles of green mako clinking in his pocket with each step, knowing he would need them. He knew where the Turks had taken Cloud. Midgar Prison was all they way on the other side of the populous city. He didn't know how long Cloud had been gone before he had made it back to the apartment to find him missing. Sephiroth knew Tseng planned to kill the blonde. Why this particular case angered him so, Sephiroth could not decipher.

He was receiving questioning glances from several bystanders. After all, if you saw a man with a seven-foot katana sprinting down the street with such speed and determination, you would stare too. All of these people knew who he was. He would have to answer countless questions in the days to come, but he didn't care. He would rather answer those questions with the knowledge that Cloud was safe, rather than the knowledge that he was dead.

If only he hadn't left him alone, this would never have happened. Perhaps if he had not stayed away for so long, maybe the abductor would have missed his chance.

He forced those guilty thoughts away. He could not blame himself. He couldn't have known the Turks would go as far as to take Cloud right from beneath him. Right from his own apartment. He was going to complain to the ShinRa executives like a pregnant woman when this was over.

Sephiroth had been so lost in his thoughts and the concentration of keeping up such an unforgivable pace, he hadn't even noticed when night settled over the city. What were the Turks doing to Cloud? More specifically, what was Tseng doing to Cloud? He had told himself no one would ever harm the boy again, not for as long as he was alive to have something to say about it, yet, at this moment, Cloud was in possibly in the most unsafe location for him at the present. Sephiroth was letting himself slip. He had never before fumbled the situation so severely that someone was in danger of losing their life.

While he had promised such things to Cloud in his head, he hadn't bothered voicing his thoughts. The blonde probably thought no one would come for him. Cloud probably thought he was going to die. Sephiroth wished he could know what tortures Cloud was being subjected to at the hands of the Turks.

He was almost there. The fenced-in fortress was now visible over the tops of surrounding buildings. He would have no trouble getting into the main structure, but the Turks' section, that would be a different story. Tseng had likely ordered his subordinates not to allow him entrance, thus the presence of Masamune.

He arrived at the front gate with a slight sweat, but his breathing was as smooth as if he'd just gotten out of bed. After noting a small stream of smoke drifting from the back of the facility, he calmly made his way to the entrance, where he was immediately admitted. The inmates were probably burning trash. He continued down the reinforced, stone hallways calmly. Underneath his stoic exterior, he wanted nothing more that to race madly toward his destination, but didn't, knowing it would raise suspicion. Then, he might not get in at all, and Cloud would be doomed.

His thoughts as he walked through the rows of cells and their occupants were quite violent. Sephiroth was not generally a very creative person, but when it came to formulating methods of torture, he was a god. He couldn't kill Tseng. ShinRa needed him unfortunately. While he utterly detested the man, he had to admit, he was quite useful in times of war. No, he wouldn't kill him. He planned to inflict pain on the Turk until he begged for forgiveness. How much pain he inflicted upon Tseng depended on how much badly the blonde was hurt. There had been so much blood. What if Cloud had already bled to death?

Sephiroth reached the Turks' level of the prison, which many fondly referred to as The Snake's Layer because, like a snake's layer, many who entered never came out. Sephiroth's nose was immediately greeted by the suffocating smell of smoke. The usual entrance guards had gone, most likely to seek fresh air. He had to find which cell they had thrown Cloud into. He continued down the dimly lit hallway until he encountered a large man standing outside an iron door.

The man had undoubtedly been expecting him, as he pulled a machine gun on him as soon as they'd made eye contact. Well, he'd found Cloud's cell.

The man held the gun shakily, his finger threatening to pull the trigger. Sephiroth charged him with Masamune held eye-level. The man began to fire as soon as his reflexes allowed him to, but was too slow. Sephiroth swept the flat of his blade against the gun barrel before the man could take aim, and knocked the gun aside. Now the man was defenseless. He made a mad scramble backwards for the gun, but Sephiroth brought his sword back down and the big man fell to the ground. He had been cut from his shoulder to his opposite side, and the wound was quite deep. He would live, but he was out of commission for now. Sephiroth didn't bother finishing him off, Tseng was his target, and he suspected that both he and Cloud were on the other side of the door.

The door . . . it was locked, and it looked quite sturdy. Sephiroth placed his hands on the iron, searching for a weak spot, and, to his horror, it was searing hot. He quickly withdrew his hand. The smoke, the heat. That meant one thing.

Weak spots be damned.

Sephiroth took a few steps back, and lunged forwards with all of his strength. He threw his shoulders into the downward thrust, and a clear ring sounded throughout the stone dungeons. At first, it looked as if Sephiroth hadn't touched the door at all. Then, as he stepped away, the cut became slowly visible as the door fell in two massive pieces. An alarm blared as the door gave in to its demise, and billowing smoke enveloped Sephiroth instantly.

For a moment, Sephiroth stood, starring into the roaring flames, hesitant to proceed. Contrary to popular beliefs, he was not immortal. What if his hair caught on fire? He would burn to death . . . If not, he would be bald for the rest of eternity.

. . . but Cloud's in there . . .

He sheathed Masamune, convinced Tseng wouldn't stick around in heat like this, and shrugged his coat higher on his shoulders. Ignoring the alarm, he plunged into the heat. Once inside the small cell, he noticed most of the flames were on the side wall, not the back.

That's odd.

The heat seared his eyes and made them water, but the flames barely touched him. The smoke was more of a bluff than anything, but it still made breathing difficult. Cloud couldn't still be alive. Surely the blonde had suffocated by now, but he had to check. A gap in the fire appeared, and he caught a glimpse of an arm chained to a wall. He pushed through the fire, his coat protecting him from the intense heat. There, chained to the back wall was Cloud. Luckily, the flames hadn't made it to him yet, but were dangerously close. Their wispy tendrils lashed out and scathed his bare chest and torso, but none caught, despite the fact that the boy was drenched in flammable fuel.

He tore the shackles from the wall, and the unconscious blonde fell into him. Sephiroth could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He had been slightly burned from the close vicinity of the fire. How was he supposed to get Cloud back through the flames without the combustible liquid catching fire?

He lay Cloud against the wall while he quickly removed his coat. When it was off, he wrapped it around the blonde, and lifted him into his arms. Making sure every last blonde spike was safely tucked away. He dodged back toward the door at lightning speed. Sephiroth's bare chest stung and the flames licked around him. He felt the pain of their bite on his exposed arms, but held his precious cargo tight.

He nearly stumbled over the dead guard on his way out, but caught his footing before he collided with the adjacent wall. He wanted to check Cloud's condition, he didn't think the boy was breathing, but he had no time to do so. The alarm had done its duty. He turned at the sound of several pairs of combat boots marching behind him. Tseng had sent mere troopers to dispose of him? No, the Turk had sent them as a distraction. The snake was undoubtedly fleeing the building by air, acting on fears that Sephiroth would chase him down, and he would, but after he had tended to limp body in his arms.

Sephiroth always wore spare materia under his coat sleeves. Now, the thick leather straps that held them were visible to all. The band of troopers halted as the fire materia began to glow ominously. Sephiroth combined its power with that of a wall materia, and cast. A roaring wall of fire sprang between himself and the troopers. They wouldn't bother him now.

He carried Cloud away from the flaring wall, and lay him down gently, removing his coat from the feverish blonde. Panic shot through him. As he had feared, Cloud wasn't breathing. Luckily for both of them, standard military training also included many courses on cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR).

Sephiroth tucked his hair behind his ears, pinched the blonde's nose, and covered the boy's mouth with his own. He gave Cloud two desperately needed breaths of oxygen before ascending to proceed the chest compressions. The white-haired man placed his hands in the center of Cloud's chest, and began to push downward strongly, forcing the boy's heart to pump oxygenated blood into his brain. After thirty pumps, he descended again to administer breaths. After the first one, Cloud coughed and inhaled greedily, gasping for air. Dazed, glowing eyes sought him out without recognition. Cloud whimpered slightly before closing his eyes again from exhaustion.

Sephiroth looked over the still-thin body. Cloud's skin was red in many places, only slightly burned, but his left leg had actually been engulfed at some point, or so Sephiroth guessed. The flesh there was blotchy and swollen. Blisters had begun to form. Sephiroth knew, that if Cloud were fully conscious now, he would be in utter agony. The mako had most likely saved his leg from being burned to cinders. The substance possessed antiflammable components which turned out quite handy in situations of this nature.

The mako. Yes, he had brought a few bottles, knowing Cloud would need some. Sephiroth couldn't imagine being in both the pain of first and second degree burns and that of mako withdrawal. As if to prove his point, Cloud thrashed against the stone floor, desperately clutching at his head, which, Sephiroth noticed, had two very noticeable gashes.

So that's where the blood came from . . .

Sephiroth searched his coat pockets until he found a tiny green bottle of glowing liquid. Thankfully, they all came with an injection needle. He prepared said needle, and slid it into Cloud's upper arm while holding him down. Cloud's pained breathing was often punctuated by agonized vocalizations. Sephiroth had to get him home to tend to the rest of his wounds. The boy seemed to have regained some awareness, and it appeared he wasn't enjoying it. Sephiroth had been burned a few times, but never this badly, and, judging by the pain of his smaller burns, he didn't envy Cloud one bit.

He lifted the blonde as gently as he could, as to agitate his heated skin as little as possible. The mere contact was enough, and Cloud gasped from the pain. Sephiroth soothed him as much as he could, murmuring kind words as he brushed a stray lock of wet blonde hair from his eyes. No one deserved this kind of suffering . . . except Tseng maybe. After he'd taken care of Cloud, he would make the Turk pay.

Sephiroth couldn't take Cloud to a hospital. Someone might recognize him. Also, Sephiroth didn't have any of the needed information to check him in without a hassle. The white-haired man knew he could easily override the hospital's authority with his position, but he could also just as easily take care of Cloud himself.

Sephiroth didn't walk Cloud back to the apartment. That would have taken forever, not to mention, it would be pure torture as fare as the boy's condition was concerned. Instead, he located the parking garage and took one the ShinRa company cars. They were all the same model, and all shared the same key, so, if you had a key to one, you could drive them all. Sephiroth settled the now shivering blonde into the back seat, folding his coat as a makeshift pillow. The fire had affected his relative body temperature. His body may be shivering, but it was really far too hot for comfort. Sephiroth hastened behind the wheel, and proceeded the thirty minute drive back to his apartment.

During the drive, Sephiroth looked to the back seat often. Cloud seemed delusional, if anything. His eyes settled on him, this time, Sephiroth saw recognition there, but it was gone quickly. Sephiroth knew the lethargy was caused by a rise in body temperature due the burns. Cloud needed to be cooled down, and fast.

He eased to a stop in front of the apartment complex, trying his best not to throw Cloud into the floorboards. Cloud cried out as he lifted him once again, but the sound was muffled into Sephiroth's arm and chest. He draped the coat over the boy's fragile body, in case they met anyone in the hallways.

Once inside his apartment, Sephiroth took Cloud directly to his bedroom, and lay him down softly onto the large four-poster. The boy was now emitting a seemingly endless chain of heart wrenching sobs, and Sephiroth couldn't blame him. Now that he had the chance to investigate the burns in a properly lighted area, he saw they were far worse than he'd first seen. He removed what was left of Cloud's pants. The entire left leg had been burned away. He winced in sympathy for Cloud's leg. The burns there were bordering on third-degree, the worst kind.

Sephiroth retrieved a bowl of cold water from the kitchen, and began the task of cleaning the burns. At the contact of cold water on hot skin, Cloud emitted what could only be defined as a scream. Sephiroth ceased his actions. The boy was suffering, and Sephiroth blamed himself. If he had arrived on the scene sooner, he could have prevented this. Tears now trailed down Cloud's face. He definitely needed a pain reliever. A strong one, but Sephiroth didn't keep them around. He never used them, but he knew someone who did. Zack.

He glanced at his bedside clock. Zack was due back to Midgar from his assignment a couple of hours ago. Sephiroth prayed the man had kept to his given schedule.
_

Zack thanked the driver of the old blue truck as shut the door. Finally, he and the two SOLDIER Third Class had made it back to Midgar. Either the monsters in North Corel had been drinking protein shakes, or they had somehow gotten into a natural mako spring. Either way, they were almost too much for the three of them to handle . . . almost.

Zack led the third class back to ShinRa headquarters to notify the executives of their return. He wondered if Sephiroth was in their office. The man had been known to work late. Oh well, he would find out sooner or later. He had to go up and fill out a report on the assignment.

Damned report . . . Can't it wait until morning? Zack yawned from exhaustion.

The SOLDIER Third Class who had been sent on the mission with him departed his company to head down to their respective rooms. ShinRa had to provide housing for all of their employees, even the cadets. Hell, especially cadets. They practically lived here at the ShinRa Academy. Zack envied the other two, as they would no doubt be headed straight to bed.

Zack barely made it into the elevator before collapsing onto the nearest wall. After pushing the appropriate button so the elevator would take him to the level Sephiroth and his office was on, he almost fell asleep on said wall. Had it not been for the fact that he had to urinate so badly it hurt, he might have done so.

Stumbling out of the elevator, he trudged to his office. His bladder demanded that he run with as much speed as possible, but his aching muscles refused to hear it. Why did his office have to be the farthest one from the elevator?

Because Sephiroth wanted it that way. He inwardly cursed the General with as many curses as his tired mind cared to construct at the moment.

As soon as he entered the office, he didn't bother looking to Sephiroth's desk to see if he was there or not. Sephiroth always worked late. He lumbered directly to the conjoined bathroom, vaguely wondering why the white-haired man hadn't greeted him by complimenting on his current state of appearance with any of his sarcastic comments. Once in the bathroom, he waited so long for his full bladder to empty, that he almost fell asleep standing.

There you go Zack. Fall asleep standing over a toilet with your cock hanging out. Sephiroth would /never let you hear the end of it./

He zipped his pants and exited the bathroom, only to notice Sephiroth was no where to be seen.

Odd . . . Well, that explains the absence of the dry humor and 'constructive' criticism.

He supposed Sephiroth had chosen this one night to actually get the proper amount of sleep a human required, mako enhanced or not. He plopped down at his desk with an unnecessarily loud thump. He hated doing reports, especially this late. Didn't the ShinRa executives realize that, just like their fat, lazy asses, he needed sleep too? Evidently not.

Just as he removed the proper forms from a drawer and slammed them haphazardly onto the desk, the phone rang.

What the hell? Must be a vampire or something. /Normal people are all sleeping at this hour./

He seriously contemplated not answering. He had work to do, and, besides, it probably wasn't important.

But . . . Would someone call at this hour if it /weren't important?/

Reluctantly, he reached for the phone at the fourth ring, and picked it up.

"To whom do I owe the honor of this late night call?"

Sephiroth's voice surprised him from the other line. His friend sounded gruff, and . . . out of breath? No, worried? Urgent? This was new.

"Zack, thank Mother Gaia. I was afraid you weren't back yet."

Afraid? Something's definitely wrong.

"Zack, I know you keep strong pain relievers in your quarters. I need some . . . now."

This was strange. Sephiroth never used pain relief medication, no matter how badly he was hurt.

"Seph, is something wrong? Are you hurt?" Zack was begging to worry. Sephiroth's behavior was too far out of character for his liking.

"Please Zack, just bring the medicine. I'll explain everything when you get here."

"Seph, did you accidentally shut your balls in the oven or something? Because you would never take pain relief before, no matter how hard the medics tried to shove it down your throat."

At that moment, Zack heard a pained outcry in the background.

"Zack, it's not for me. Just bring the damned drugs." Zack detected a definite note of urgency that time.

"Alright, I'll be there in ten minutes. You've got some filling in to do once I get there."

With that, he hung up the telephone. He starred angrily at the paperwork on his desk, before sticking his tongue out at it.

"Hah, I don't have to fill you out until tomorrow."

His personal quarters were a few levels down. He boarded the elevator and retrieved the drugs from his bedroom. He wasn't supposed to have them, so he kept them under a loose floorboard in his closet. The formula for these drugs was created by ShinRa's top scientist, Hojo. While Hojo wasn't good at much else, Zack had to admit, the man could make drugs powerful enough to knock out an elephant. He had stolen them from the laboratory after Hojo had died . . . or retired . . . or whatever . . .

What happened to that old slime ball anyway?

It didn't matter. He had other things to think about at the moment. Sephiroth had said the pain relievers weren't for himself. Then who? He remembered the pained moan from the background. It sounded almost as if its owner was dying. Zack began to walk faster, the medicines well hidden inside his uniform.

He had made out into the lobby. The secretary and guards may as well have been sleeping. They were as alert as limp, dead, fish. He exited the building and flagged down a cab.

While the driver was speeding down the dark streets, as Zack had ordered, the SOLDIER's mind wandered back to his previous conversation over the phone. He had never heard Sephiroth so . . . so unhinged. The man was usually calm, collected, and all around . . . well . . . Sephiroth. There was no other way to describe it.

Hmm . . . I leave for three days, and Sephiroth grows a personality . . . Maybe I should go away more often. Next time I go on an assignment, maybe President ShinRa and Palmer will lose one hundred pounds each. Pah, like /that's gonna happen. Aeris murdering me in my sleep would be more likely./

His thoughts weren't all that accurate, and he knew it. He had always known Sephiroth had a personality in there somewhere, and a heart too. The man just didn't like to show in case someone decided to use it against him. After all, he wasn't the man's friend for no reason. Over the years, Sephiroth had shown him more and more of himself gradually. But that had taken years. As far as Zack knew, no one else had the privilege of knowing him so well.

Then who is in his apartment right now? Who could he be so worried about that he actually let his walls down?

This was confusing, and the suspense was killing him. The cab driver wasn't driving fast enough. He needed answers to his questions, and he needed them now.

Maybe he's finally found a lover.

In three days?

I guess Sephiroth doesn't value his morals as much as I thought.

But who could pry him open in /three days? It's taken me years.

Zack had to admit, he was a little jealous. Whoever this person was, whoever these drugs were for, he was definitely gifted.

At last, the cab driver stopped and Zack leapt out of the seat as fast as he could. He no longer felt tired for some reason, just excited. He almost ran off without paying the driver, but stopped himself. He gave the man the gil, and began a mad dash up to Sephiroth's apartment, curious to discover many things.

Zack knocked on the Sephiroth's door once. Then the door swung open inwardly. Sephiroth grabbed him by the collar and pulled him inside before quickly locking the door again, both the knob, and the dead-bolt.

Then the white-haired man turned to him.

"Did you bring the pain medicine?"

Zack answered by reaching into his pocket to extract the bottle of pills. Sephiroth took it from him as soon as it was visible and rushed toward his bedroom door. Zack followed hesitantly. Sephiroth was acting so strange.

Zack stood at the door and watched as Sephiroth forced one of the large tablets into the mouth of a small blonde teenager. He then held a glass of water to his lips and instructed him to drink. The thin boy did so, but weakly. Sephiroth lay him back onto the bed, carefully cradling his head, which was covered in what Zack could only determine as blood, into a soft pillow. The blonde's breathing came in pained gasps.

Zack crept forwards, closer to the bed, in order to better assess the situation. The boy was sweating like a snowman in the dessert, and his left leg was covered in what looked to burns. Bad burns. The rest of his body looked much the same, though of a lesser severity. Tears fell from his clouded blue eyes as he whimpered incessantly, occasionally crying out in pain.

Zack looked to his friend, who was now holding the boy's hand in a loving manner, caressing it lightly. Sephiroth seemed to be waiting for the drugs to take effect.

The dark-haired man leaned himself against the nearest wall. Sephiroth cared about someone? This boy?

I was only gone /three days . . . right?!/

Several minutes passed as the blonde's sobs quieted. Zack watched as Sephiroth reached up to caress his cheek, where a large bruise had begun to show itself.

Finally, the boy's breathing evened into long, slow breaths. He had fallen asleep. Sephiroth reached onto his night stand, where a bowl of water sat, and wrung out a cloth. He then began to gently wipe away the blood from the boy's hair. Zack decided it was safe to speak.

"What happened to him?" His voice was low and soft, as not to wake the resting blonde.

"The Turks did this. More specifically, Tseng." Sephiroth paused. Zack was about to ask another question, when Sephiroth began again. "They were trying to kill him, Zack. They were going to burn him alive."

Zack could sense his friend's anger as it boiled inside him, maturing into higher levels. He pitied Tseng terribly. Sephiroth was probably planning ways to kill him at the moment. Rule number one in the manual of dealing with powerful, mako-enhanced military geniuses with seven foot swords. Never incite their wrath, or else you will die a very bloody and painful death.

"What is his name?" was Zack's next question.

"Cloud. Cloud Strife. The boy from the news."

What was Sephiroth talking about? Zack never watched the news.

"What?"

"Haven't you watched the news?"

"No . . . too boring."

Sephiroth looked up at this. He had been cleaning Cloud's burned leg. Sephiroth starred into his eyes, as if measuring his loyalty.

"Zack, I want you to promise me you can keep a secret."

Zack had never seen this side of his friend before. Of course he could keep a secret.

"Sephiroth, I'm your friend. Friends keep secrets."

"Would you keep a secret even if I told you I was housing a murder under my roof?"

What was Sephiroth talking about? Murderer? Sure, he trusted Sephiroth's judgment. If Sephiroth trusted said murderer, then so would he. But why had the white-haired man asked him such a silly question?

"Of course I wouldn't tell anyone. If you were illegally housing an entire /fleet/of murderers, I wouldn't tell a soul."

Sephiroth nodded, then continued his work.

"Seph, is there something you want to tell me?"

The General paused again. "It's a long story. I'm not sure Cloud would want anyone else to know part of it. Promise me, Zack, promise me you won't let him know I told you. After all, he made me promise not to tell anyone else."

"Then you shouldn't tell me."

"Yes, you need to know because I think you can help him."

"Help him?"

"Just listen to the story. Get comfortable."

Zack left his wall and went to sit on the edge of the bed. The blonde didn't really take up that much of it at all.

Sephiroth began his story with how he had seen the news broadcast on television, and of all of the events that had happened afterwards. He would tell Zack everything.
_
Author Notes:
Merry Christmas! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I worked hard to get it posted before Christmas, as a gift. I beg of you not to kill for what I've done to poor Cloud, but every event serves its purpose. Why almost kill Cloud? To strengthen the bond between him and Sephiroth of course!

I apologize to those of you who like Tseng, but I had to make him an antagonist for my fic to go as I've planned. Rest assured, not /all/Turks will be evil, I promise.

This is the first time I've used and point of view other than Cloud's or Sephiroth's. Zack should get to share the lime light too!

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**R&R**
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