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lucetilogs2008-07-22 05:31 pm
dawndigger.livejournal.com) wrote in lucetilogs2008-07-22 05:31 pm
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Who: Future!Simon (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dawndigger), Future!Sephiroth (bene_elohim), Cloud Strife (am_i_a_hero), Zack Fair (wingenvy). Later: Tifa Lockhart (7thheavensmile) and Denzel Strife (midgetedger).
What: It is tiem to fite, eh. And die and stuff. Character death, be ye warned.
When: At the beginning of the timeskip event, Tier 1.
Where: Between houses 29 and 50, and then house 50.
Summary: Seph goes batshit, attacks Zack. Zack calls for helplike a princess. Cloud goes, gets beat up, Hobo!Simon saves his ass. Geostigma is all, "hay yo." This is an AIM log, with Tifa and Denzel threads.
Rating: PG yo.
There was definitely something weird going on in Luceti. Granted, something weird was usually going on in Luceti, to the point where 'weird' were the normal days, but this was definitely a sort of weird that made him puzzle over the sanity of their captors. A bunch of people becoming kids again? It was cute and all, but kind of old hat. Not to mention he'd apparently missed this round, too. There was something off about this time, though, which had him stepping on eggshells for reasons he couldn't explain. He opted to stick close to home while he sorted out just what was going on.
Oddly enough, though, home was much darker than he imagined it would be when he opened the door. As he entered the house he and Sephiroth shared, he found it completely pitch black, no lights on, the blinds apparently drawn. Weird. He gave the closest switch and flip and found it busted. Really weird. Still, outages happened sometimes, so he began to wander the house, searching for the housemate he assumed was still around, though why he'd be lurking in the dark like this was beyond him. "Seph?"
He'd found his voice earlier that day…and hers. She'd begun to whisper to him, and it hadn't taken him long to figure out that it was his mother, it was Mother speaking to him. She told him she knew how he could escape, but first there were things to be done, things to be taken care of here in Luceti. It made sense; everyone seemed so content in their little green cage that Sephiroth had quickly grown irritated at the lax, lackadaisical attitude of his fellow prisoners.
Zack was among their numbers as those content to sit back and be used, something Sephiroth would have never imagined. But Zack had changed; Mother told him so, told him how Zack rejected her offer of salvation, how he'd boasted that he was happier here in this world. It was like a slap to the face- Zack was his second-in-command, his friend, and he'd told the boy that he wanted and needed his help. Help, apparently, the young man wasn't prepared to give.
It didn't matter. Sephiroth would take care of things one way or another.
When he heard Zack's voice call his name -that blasted nickname that he couldn't stand- something rose, white hot and ready inside Sephiroth's chest, and Mother whispered softly into his ear that it was time to take care of things. So he found his voice…just as he'd found hers. "Zackary."
Zack nearly jumped. It took damn near all the willpower he had not to, and it was a thing of pride that he didn't. But that came out of nowhere. Literally. He spun around, eyes widening, and spotted those glowing slitted eyes in the dark. Okaaaay, that was different. He fought back the various instincts screaming "BAD IDEA BAD IDEA" in his head and took a step closer, wishing he wasn't sensing that awful build-up of dread. This was Seph, for Shiva's sake. Just Seph.
"I'm right here," he replied, frowning in the dark and fumbling for another light switch. That one didn't work either. "What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark like this?"
"Mimicking you." Sephiroth couldn't help a soft chuckle at that, pressing a few fingertips to his forehead, shaking it a little. That was as corny as it was cliche. Mother hissed that he was wasting time, and the laughter faded as he glanced back up at Zack. "Where were you?" His fingers tightened on his biceps before he pushed off of the wall to meet Zack, moving closer. Masamune was in his room.
He wouldn't need it.
Wait, what? Seph sounded weird. Like something was off with him - familiar, but at the same time not. He took a careful step back as he heard the faint soft of Sephiroth approaching, not showing fear, only caution. He knew Seph hated people cowering from him, and he wasn't scared, just... concerned. Something was wrong here.
.... Hey, since when did he get his voice back?
"I was just out for a walk," he replied calmly, eyes flitting from one side of the room to the other. Damn the mako! He couldn't see a thing.
Sephiroth paused. "I see." He moved again, away from Zack this time, eyes adjusted to the dark as well as they would the day, and he reached for his journal, flipping through it, gaze becoming harsher and harsher as he examined its contents. Lazy, insufferable little insects. They didn't understand anything…and Zack was becoming one of them. Going for a walk. "Discover anything interesting, Zackary?"
"... Not really." Zack squinted a bit, following Sephiroth's movement only by his eyes. He could barely see more than a silhouette, and it was frustrating as hell. More than that, he was starting to get a good idea of just what was happening here, and he really didn't like it. Unconsciously his hand lifted to his chest, grazing over the spot where Masamune had sliced him in the Nibelheim reactor. Seph... sounded all wrong. "I think something weird's going on in town, though. Notice anything different?"
Sneering at this, Sephiroth snapped his journal shut with a sharp sound, turning to glare darkly at Zack through the shadows. "Different? From their usual behavior, I'm assuming? Hardly. Perhaps they look and sound differently, but they all still think the same way. Dullards." Sephiroth tossed the journal onto the couch; it skidded and nearly toppled onto the floor. "Becoming soft and lazy here, with their comforts provided. I daresay the majority of them have even forgotten that they've been brought here against their will."
Sephiroth lifted his chin. "Although I suppose that's not the case with you at all, is it?"
Well, shit. Zack took another step back, keeping his back to the door so it would be simple to turn and run for it if he had to. Admittedly he knew there was precious little he could do if Seph really wanted a piece of him, but there was still that hope that this could be resolved. ...Somehow.
"I don't forget that kind of thing," he disagreed quietly, eyeing his friend and inwardly praying he wasn't too far gone. "I just don't let it ruin my life while I'm here."
"Life?" Mother hissed in his ear, and Sephiroth agreed. His voice rose dangerously, and he took two quick steps in Zack's direction, hand lashing out to fist in the man's shirt at his neck. "This is not living, Zackary. This is passing the days in captivity like a drugged animal. There is no life here to be had. You were better of dead." Sephiroth emphasizes this by leaning in slightly. He would make Zack understand, one way or another.
That one stung. Zack had to fight back a wince, eyes averting briefly before he caught himself and went back to watching the other man, feeling a wave of frustration at not being able to get through to his friend. Even if it was currently one-sided.
Was Cloud right? Was it just a matter of time before this happened, or are the Malnosso...
It made sense - the timing certainly did. And if that was the case, then he didn't want to end up saying or doing something he'd regret. He didn't want to antagonize Seph either. This would be a tough one. "You and I are just going to have to disagree with you there, man," he replied, hands lifting to his hips. "It doesn't bother me as much as the others."
"Obviously," Sephiroth snorted, and released Zack. He turned on his heel towards the hallway, navigating easily to his room and recovering Masamune. The weight was familiar and welcome; Mother murmured her approval, and a ghost of a smile turned his lips as he traced the scratches and lines of the hilt with a finger. The soft clink of it against his belt heralded his return to the living room, and he drew the blade slightly, savoring the hiss of cold, refined steel. It had been too long; there had been nothing to fight, the Malnosso hiding away behind that damned barrier, and the citizens lulling themselves to sleep with a false sense of security.
Well. Perhaps all they needed was a bit of wake-up call. Sephiroth was more than happy to provide it, and drew Masamune fully.
Oh thank god. Zack didn't waste any time -as soon as Sephiroth let go and left the room, he took off like a rocket out of the house (or at least moving as fast as he could without running into something) and down the pathway to the bridge crossing the river. He didn't know what Seph was planning, but he had a really good idea that he didn't want to be too close when he snapped completely.
As he moved, he lifted his journal to his lips, hissing into it a quiet call for aid. Cloud wasn't at his best, but he could think of no one else he could trust with this. Much as he hated being in the state he was in, he knew he couldn't fight Sephiroth alone and survive. As it was... it would be close.
He'd run. How quaint. Of course, Sephiroth had expected it; Zack might have let himself fall into the impression that this world was bearable, but he wasn't stupid by any means. Regardless, there weren't many places Zack could go, and less people he could call. Sephiroth wasn't sure if it was because of Mother's whispers or even his own quiet musings, but he felt that if anyone should be liberated of this place, it was Zack. The Malnosso brought people back from the dead, but Sephiroth was sure he would be able to stop them before they could bring Zack back. If not...well, he'd just kill Zack again.
Sephiroth quietly opened the door and started after Zack, ears trained for his bootfalls, breaths and even heartbeat.
He was scared. Cloud had only been flipping idly through the journal for something to do; as the days passed, he'd been finding himself tiring much more quickly, and would spend a lot of time either in bed or reclining on the couch. He'd run out of books for the day and, too tired to go to the library and unwilling to tear Simon and Denzel from whatever activities they'd set themselves to, had settled himself on the couch with his journal, reviewing the strange events. Probably another experiment; there were people turning into children left and right.
And then he'd run across Sephiroth's entry. And his blood ran cold, fingers clutching the pages so tightly they crinkled. Not long after that, Zack's whispered message had reached his ears at the turn of the page and he was halfway across the room before it had even finished. The journal was abandoned on Cloud's bed and he struggled to buckle his hostler over his shoulder and around his waist with one hand. Angrily he abandoned it, wrenching First Tsurugi from the sheath and tearing from the house with a fervor he hadn't felt in weeks. Zack-
Zack-!!
Zack was getting a little tired of running, and he'd barely even started. It wasn't something he was used to, and it was definitely not something he enjoyed. Still, necessity always beat out pride in his mind, and survival was the most important thing of all. So that's why he was sitting around in a rather ragged cove of trees, ducking behind everything he could find for proper cover until backup arrived. Sephiroth was not pulling any punches at all.
Cloud... I hope I'm not going to damn us both by calling you here.
He didn't have to search far; Sephiroth always overestimated the stamina of normal people, and this case was no exception. He could hear Zack breathe in the copse of trees as if the man was right at his shoulder. His lips twitched, and slowly he advanced. It would be over soon.
Cloud tore across the river in one of the more shallow areas, water sloshing at his calves and soaking through his boots and pants, rushing around him and tugging at the cloth but not slowing his advance in the least. Zack had told him to look in the trees; he was hiding then, which meant that he couldn't run any longer. Not good, not good. The leather of his glove squeaked as Cloud's grip on First Tsurugi's handle tightened, and he scanned the clearing with a brief, hurried and panicked gaze. He didn't see Zack in the trees.
But he did see Sephiroth approaching them. Gritting his teeth and putting on a burst of speed, Cloud ducked past the clump of trees and lifted First Tsurugi, bracing the dull side with his left shoulder and hissing sharply as the Masamune collided with it with enough force to run a shock up along his neck and rattle his teeth.
Zack saw Cloud as he charged in, and that was his sign to join in. He knew he couldn't do much to help, but he'd been practicing like crazy and sparred with Sephiroth enough times to feel the confidence required to take on Sephiroth. ... With help, of course. He could at least serve as a semi-reasonable distraction.
He unsheathed the broadsword Angeal had given him and charged in from the side, swinging out towards Sephiroth's back. He didn't expect it to connect - please, this was Sephiroth - but it was as good a start as any.
Sephiroth didn't follow Zack with his eyes, keeping them trained on the blonde in front of him, but heard the gravel and soil beneath his boot as he turned, heard the whistle of air parting for the blade of a sword -broadsword, probably- and could almost feel Zack's eyes trained on his back. It was a blow intended to cripple or kill; it could have, if Zack had the power necessary to do something like that to him. Sephiroth could move, knock Strife aside and block with the Masamune, but...
Seph's hand snapped out and he caught the edge of the broadsword, the sharp edge biting into his glove slightly, but leaving only a small red line across his palm, which sealed itself almost instantly with a hiss of Mako. Mother murmured murderous threats, and Sephiroth felt comfort; his eyes never left Strife's.
Cloud struggled against the force Masamune was applying to First Tsurugi; the assembled blade was too heavy. Cloud didn't have the strength to push back and keep the blade aloft at the same time, and he was about to move and duck around to snap the releases and snatch up Vigilante when a black blur emerged from the trees and circled Sephiroth gracefully, lunging in to attack. It was Zack; Cloud knew he wouldn't have stood idly by, but his heart sunk when Sephiroth merely caught the blade without even looking.
Something pulled at his attention and against his will, Cloud's eyes lifted to meet Sephiroth's; his left arm throbbed suddenly and he yelped, faltering, twisting First Tsurugi to knock Masamune aside and stagger to the side. If he could keep Sephiroth's attention forward, he wouldn't be able to attack Zack with the intent to kill, so he held his ground, panting, fighting the urge to clutch at his arm.
Zack knew this wasn't easy for Cloud; he could see him struggling, see the trouble he was having even so early into the fight. This was a dangerous game, and it was - he was forced to admit - a little frightening. If they didn't stop Sephiroth, who would? How many people would he hurt before they or anyone else was strong enough to stop him? The questions plagued him, and he hated it. Forcibly he shoved off his worries and focused back on the fight, struggling against Sephiroth's grip, but they both knew it was a lost cause. There was no way in hell he was going to break that grip.
Fine, screw it. He twisted the broadsword as much as he could in Sephiroth's grasp, then kicked off the ground, using momentum and the sword itself (and the grip holding it in place) to jump just high enough above to to lash a foot out at the Shinra general's head. Spike needed a moment to catch himself from whatever had hurt him - damn Geostigma again, probably - and dammit, Zack was going to deliver.
Sephiroth smirked when Strife retreated, but the blade in his left hand wrenched and Zack swung into the air. Assured that whatever Strife threw at him wouldn't be very dangerous, Sephiroth turned with an irritated frown and dropped the Masamune. With his two free hands, he knocked aside Zack's kick and caught Zack's neck neatly in his outstretched hand. He debated crushing the man's throat when the air shifted at his back and on instinct, he turned.
A collection of blades littered the ground around Cloud's feet, and a thin but vicious broadsword remained in his hand; it was now in a ridiculously speedy arc aiming straight for his head. With a sharp hiss, Sephiroth hurled Zack back towards the copse of trees, ducking and rolling, snatching up Masamune and bringing it up into a block.
Well that had gone spectacularly badly. Not that he'd really expected much. The second Sephiroth grabbed his throat, Zack intensified his struggles, lashing and kicking as best as he could with the hand of the strongest man in the world slowly choking the life out of him. Really, he was lucky Seph didn't snap his neck.
Not too long ago it wouldn't have been that easy.
He could do nothing to stop the man, however, and before he knew it he'd been sent flying, and though he tried to twist in midair to catch himself, his back became good friends with a tree and he was essentially down for the count. Attempting to get up after that one resulted in more pain than he was used to and a coughing fit, so before long he was forced to admit defeat and merely watch.
Cloud... win, or retreat. Please. But don't die...!
Cloud's roar was probably the loudest noise he'd made in months at the sight of Zack unmoving several yards away. He didn't know if he was stunned, knocked out or worse, but something burned in his stomach and pushed against the Masamune, hard, and spat curses through gritted teeth at the face gazing calmly back at him. He'd admired, adored and nearly worshipped Sephiroth in his youth...but since then it had been twisted into a mixture of pity, fear, dread and absolute writhing hate. Everything wretched that had come about had been brought by this man's hand; perhaps not directly responsible, but playing as much a part as anyone. He knew Zack defended Sephiroth, said that something was wrong, or different, but this Sephiroth, the one he was fighting now, was the one Cloud hated.
The one who'd hurt or destroyed everything and everyone dear to him...and who had just tried to kill Zack. Cloud's left fingers twitched, and with an almost detached sense of surprise wrenched his arm free of the sling to slug Sephiroth firmly across the face, the man's head snapping to the side from the force of the punch and staggering back. Shock entered his eyes for just a moment when Cloud's connected with his, and he leaped in for the kill.
That was a mistake. The moment Strife moved forward, Sephiroth barked out a gruff laugh and lashed out, closing a hand around Strife's wrist. All it took was a squeeze, a little twist and Mother's flooding presence and the young man's eyes snapped open, wide and panicked before he screamed, legs swaying for a second before collapsing. Sephiroth held him upright by the wrist. Mother was whispering, using the physical contact between them and twisting Strife's mind; the scream cut off into something more of a gurgle, eyes going blank as he shuddered.
Sephiroth released Strife after a moment, and the blonde crumpled neatly at his feet, twitching, eyes staring blankly at his feet. He tilted his head to the side; weak. They were always far too weak for his precious mother. Adjusting his grip on Masamune, Sephiroth lifted the blade high, giving Strife's left shoulder a rough kick to roll him onto his back; the man didn't so much as whimper. Dragging the point of Masamune over Strife's stomach and debating making this slow and painful, Sephiroth had to admit that he didn't have the time, and lifted the blade right over Cloud's throat with the intention of impaling his neck.
Waking up in Luceti for the second time in his life was one of the greatest shocks he'd ever experienced. he could recall with perfect clarity the first time - as a child, hiding in terror, and shortly after feeling more loved and cared for than any other time in his life. He couldn't remember going home, and many of the small details were missing, but it all came together to form one emotion he'd sorely missed: joy.
Once he'd gathered his thoughts and gotten his bearings, he realized he was surprisingly close to the home he'd shared with Cloud and his family years ago. It was amazing to see it still standing - it felt like it had been forever, and the nostalgia was almost choking. Why wouldn't someone crave a family? Idly, he wondered if anyone was still living there. Had they all gone home? Were the Malnosso still going at it? He could feel familiar wings at his back, so that seemed answer enough.
He'd been about to approach the house, maybe pop by to see if anyone was around - it was a long shot, but he wasn't known for giving up - but as he did so, he heard the clash of swords and raised voice not far off, just across the river. Someone was fighting, and it didn't sound good. Without hesitation he adjusted the staff at his shoulder and took off running, heading for the battle ahead.
What he found, however, was completely unexpected. Three very familiar men had gathered together, facing off and attacking all at once. Sephiroth, he knew, though much darker and more cruel than he used to be. Zack, doing his best without the boost of strength he'd heard about in his childhood, a brief contender before he was knocked out with disturbing ease. And then-
...And then-
And then it was time to move.
There was no time to think, no time to consider his options. The long katana flashed in the light, and energy flared around his body, shooting him forward at inhuman speeds. His staff rose, the drill attached to the end of it weightless in the midst of his charge, and before the men in front of him could react, he was between Sephiroth and Cloud, his staff blocking the katana's mortal blow. He strained against Sephiroth's arm, head lifting, one eye hidden beneath an eyepatch, the other shadowed in a protective glare.
"I won't let you kill them, Sephiroth," Simon murmured, hand tightening around his staff. It was his turn to protect Cloud.
Something was holding back the Masamune; something strong. Sephiroth met the eyes -eye, really- of the man in front of him, lips pursing tightly. The air was tight, laced with power, and he knew this wasn't an opponent to be taken lightly. The man was familiar…Sephiroth knew he'd met him before. He didn't forget a face, and would never disregard a power like this, ever. Cautiously, Sephiroth retreated, snapping back a few steps and keeping his eyes locked on the man's face, Mother murmuring in the back of his mind and, frankly, being a little distracting. He sent an exasperated shush in her direction and she silenced herself, albeit reluctantly. With the lack of her voice, Sephiroth searched his memory, and a name rang clear.
Simon.
Sephiroth would have grinned, if the man wasn't standing opposite of him and protectively over his prey. So, he had been correct. Naturally.
There was too much, too much too much-
Images and memories, voices, words, poured in and out and around and through his mind and tore at him, and Cloud desperately searched for what was real and what wasn't, clawing through it and trying to find something to hold onto, to keep himself.
Papa! Panicked, Cloud latched onto the voice, clung for dear life, hung on even as Jenova hissed and curled in his mind, pierced and thrashed and cut him to ribbons. Papa! Cloud gritted his teeth; something flapped above him- his body? He had a body?- and tickled his cheek. He shifted, his sense of self returned; that's right, he had a body. He was Cloud. There was someone above him.
"Simon," he croaked, searching for the little boy before remembering that he wasn't there, thank Holy. His head fell to the side; he was tired.
Simon heard the voice below him, heard what was said, but he didn't let it distract him enough to turn away from his opponent. Did Cloud recognize him? Did he remember him that well? The thought made a small smile cross his lips, short-lived but welcome in its coming. He held the drill-staff out in front of him, ready and waiting to defend against anything Sephiroth wanted to throw at him. He didn't know what to expect from the man, besides the fact that he had enough power to probably lay waste to this entire world and not break a sweat, but that didn't matter. He wanted to kill Cloud, and that meant that an entire army of Sephiroths couldn't make Simon back down.
"Turn back now," he continued, reaching within himself to activate his power, green energy swirling almost lazily around him. The intensity of the air around the both of them was breathtaking. "I don't care how strong you are. This isn't a fight you can win."
"That isn't an option." It was the truth; Sephiroth would eventually have to confront Simon regardless, and now was as good a time as any. Better, even, now that Simon had someone to look after. It wasn't exactly honorable, but Mother murmured to him that honor wasn't as valuable as it once was, and he had to agree. Why bother with honor when no one else did?
Not to say that this battle was going to be easy. In fact, if his hunch about Simon was correct he may not even be victorious. The sudden intensity of the air around them and the swirling green -resembling Mako, even- around Simon's form was enough proof of that. Sephiroth tightened his grip around Masamune's hilt, and charged.
Simon reacted immediately, twisting the drill-staff to meet Sephiroth's attack. On his own he could never dream to match that kind of speed, but with the Spiral power aiding him, fueling his body, he was able to fend off Sephiroth's incredible strength. This wasn't going to be a simple one-hit fight, he knew that much. But there was too much resting on his shoulders for anything but victory to be acceptable. Cloud's life, and Zack's, were on the line, and those stakes were too high for him to sit back and give up. He would fight till the last if he had to, even if it took all the Spiral power he could muster.
He didn't wait around for Sephiroth to make the second move, immediately spinning the drill-staff between his fingers, relying on the circular motion to raise its power, like always, and swung forward towards Sephiroth's side. If he'd had Gurren Lagann or the Core Drill, he would have been much stronger, but he'd have to make due. Hopefully he'd grown enough in seven years to be enough to defend against the seasoned warrior before him.
The blocked strike Simon swung at him rang loud, and Sephiroth's brow twitched lightly. Mother began muttering again and he hissed mentally for her to shut up, and let him concentrate thank you very much. Crossing his wrists, Sephiroth grabbed the bar of the staff, pushing slightly and dislodging Masamune to turn his back to Simon and swing the blade before and to the side, his hand tight around the staff, his back to Simon's grip on it and the sharp edge of Masamune cutting the air as it raced towards him.
Sephiroth was incredible. By far the most skilled opponent Simon had ever faced, and fleetingly he wished he had more experience with hand-to-hand combat. Still, there was no avoiding it now. He focused for a split second, energy around him intensifying, swirling together around his body to create a shield just big enough to deflect the Masamune. At the same time he let a fragment of the energy pass through his hand into the staff, and it practically roared to life, the drill at the top spinning perilously close to Sephiroth's head. Simon gave the staff a good, rough shove, intent on driving it downwards while the pale-haired soldier couldn't use his sword to defend.
There was no time. Masamune struck the shield- there was a sharp, harsh sound, and his hand nearly went numb from the force. Ripping the sheath from his side with his left hand, Sephiroth brought it up to defend. Of course, it didn't stand up to the drill, but its desctruction gave him just enough time to duck and roll away to the side, breathing a little labored.
Simon was incredible. It almost gave him a flair of pride. Almost.
Simon relaxed the aura of Spiral power around his body, feeling more strained than he had in the battles against the Anti-Spirals years ago. Something was wrong - he was getting tired too quickly. Was it because of where he was? He vaguely recalled hearing something about people being weaker in Luceti... that had to be it. And if that was the case, it meant he couldn't be wasteful about where his energy was spent.
He straightened up, holding the drill-staff level before his body once more, and stepped to the side so he was between Sephiroth and Cloud's prone body once more. He wasn't about to forget who the man's true target had been. Now how could he force a retreat? It would be better if he could avoid a death, particularly when Sephiroth had already dealt with that once before. And he had no way of knowing if his sudden mental shift was due to the Malnosso's meddling... he hated not being aware of the situation.
"Sephiroth," he tried again, turning his body slightly to the side. He didn't want to give Sephiroth the advantage - with the eyepatch on, he had one very crucial weakness which the man had yet to exploit. "I'll say it one more time. You're not going to win this."
"Your confidence isn't without adequate reason," Sephiroth muttered, eyes flicking quickly to Strife behind him to ensure that the man wouldn't get up and help. It didn't look like it. He returned his attention to Simon, rising again to his feet, Masamune at rest at his side. "However, I think you are overlooking a crucial detail." He gestured lazily to Cloud with the tip of his sword, and to Zack. "They need medical attention; if not given, they'll most likely die. You don't have the time to waste here, but I do." If he could force Simon into a panick, or into a hasty retreat then he might have the opportunity he'd need to strike and kill.
Sephiroth had a point. He could feel the life pulses of Cloud and Zack - that was what Spiral power was, after all - and they were weak, thready, not quite all there. They weren't dying, but they weren't doing well either. That just added to the urgency of the situation. Still, he couldn't just charge in blind. He might have done so years ago, in his youth, but with age comes wisdom, as they say.
"Thanks for pointing that out," he mused, shifting position so his body was slightly lower to the ground, energy flaring dangerously to life once more. With a flick of the wrist his drill began to spin again, faster than before, glowing green. "I'll have to end this, then."
And with that said, and a powerful roar on the tip of his tongue, he lunged forward, stabbing the drill in for the strongest blow yet.
Sephiroth surpressed a smile; not a response he'd been expecting. Simon had changed; certainly the Simon of the past would have panicked, withdrawn. This new Simon...he was a warrior, and a good one. A well of respect warmed his stomach and shushed Mother's angry reprimands, and as Simon lunged Sephiroth lifted Masamune to block.
The drill connected with the flat of the blade, spun against it; there was the shriek of metal on metal, and the sword vibrated against Sephiroth's bracing wrist and through down to the hilt, in his hand. Something occured to Sephiroth and he lurched back just in time. Masamune gave one last shriek before there was a sound of shattering glass, and the blade snapped. Shards exploded outward, one nicking Sephiroth's cheek and drawing a line of red even as he kicked back. He stared hard at the hilt in his hand before throwing it aside.
Simon almost let a smile cross his lips, but he wasn't about to get cocky. Sephiroth was unarmed, but that didn't mean he was defeated. He pulled back the drill-staff, still spinning wildly, and pointed the tip at Sephiroth's throat. "I think the next move is yours," he said quietly, waiting to see what the soldier would do. It was a shame about his sword, though - that had been an incredible blade.
There wasn't a choice, now. Without Masamune, materia or anything of use -he'd cast a thought at the blades littered near Strife's body, but he was less adept at broadswords than katanas, and Simon had overpowered him with Masamune- Sephiroth didn't stand a chance. He would have to deal with Simon eventually, yes, but being killed here wouldn't advance his crusade in the least. "I know when to admit defeat," he murmured, and stepped back. Somehow, he knew Simon wouldn't attack (he had more important things to worry about)...so he gave the man his back, striding away towards the bridge. "Watch them closely. Don't think I've given up."
Simon watched him go, holding his position until his opponent was far enough away that he could react fast enough if Sephiroth decided to return. He doubted that would happen, but still, with lives on the line it never hurt to be too cautious.
Once he felt safe to do so, he spun around, hurrying back to Cloud, crouching beside him and setting the drill-staff aside so he could raise Cloud up a bit, gently shaking him. He saw no real injuries - what had Sephiroth done to him?
"Cloud," he called, voice laced with fear. He shook the man again. "Cloud!"
In his mind, the voice of a small child called Papa, papa.
Ugh. Someone was shaking him; Cloud grimaced and shook off the cobwebs and ache, opening his eyes. Sunlight shone down and blinded him, and he winced away from it, waiting until the red behind his eyelids became bearable before squinting up. There was a face hovering above him, but one look at the eye visible told him it wasn't Sephiroth. In fact...it was familiar. Very familiar. Cloud stared with half-lidded eyes, sifting through torn and shredded memories to place a name to the face, but it slipped away.
Giving up -for now- with a defeated sigh, Cloud relaxed into the stranger's arms, closing his eyes and licking his lips. "Zack," he said, remembering, and the words felt like sandpaper on his throat even as he attempted to turn and crane his neck to where the man had been lying.
Simon felt a wave of relief to see Cloud awake, giving him a good onceover to check for injuries before addressing his words. "Zack's alive," he reassured Cloud, gently brushing back his hair. He hadn't aged a day - still the same young, strong papa he remembered. "Can you stand if I help you? I don't want to leave you here, but I can't carry you both back at once."
Sweet Holy that voice was familiar, but Cloud just couldn't identify it, as hard as he tried. Not that the sensation was a particularly foreign one, but it was annoying all the same. He licked his lips again, swallowed and nodded. Hell yes he could stand up. Clutching at the man's shoulder Cloud sat up, giving himself a second to settle the vertigo before struggling to stand. Much to his irritation -and, faintly, relief- his left arm was once again useless...and now the numbness had spread partially to his neck. He couldn't turn his head completely to the left or the right, and even his chest and side felt fuzzy, like he'd been grazed by a Paralysis spell. Not exactly a good thing, considering that was where his heart was, but it was still beating so he was in good enough shape to move, anyways.
Simon did his best to help Cloud to his feet, supporting him gently and wrapping one of Cloud's arms around his shoulders. As they rose to their feet he brought the drill-staff with him, slinging it over his shoulder with a chain. Once Cloud was stable enough, he carefully led the way over to where Zack lay.
The other man was still unconscious, but when Simon carefully set Cloud back down to check him, he was stable and there was no indication that he was going to die before they reached the house for a proper examination. His back wasn't broken or anything, and the blood on his head from the collision he'd suffered was minimal. Now came the hard part - bringing them both back. It really was a good thing he'd grown up. Thin as he was, he still had enough strength to heft Zack onto his shoulder and help Cloud back up, and after a bit of juggling and careful balancing, he began their slow trek back to the house.
"How bad is it?" he murmured, casting a worried look in Cloud's direction every once in a while. "Are you in a lot of pain?"
Cloud's head was hanging just a bit, but he still shook it, although his voice was still rough. "No. It doesn't hurt anymore." And it wasn't a lie; the numbness was welcome after the pain from before, but the physical discomfort was the least of his worries. His memories were still fractured, and try as hard as he could he was having difficulties piecing them back together. Things he knew he should have known -this man's name, his birthplace, what Tifa's favorite food was and where Denzel liked to hide candy so that Tifa wouldn't take it away- escaped him far too easily, and he was quickly becoming just as frustrated as he was worried. From all the reports he'd read when he'd first been diagnosed back in his own world, memory fragmentation and failure had been the last stages of the disease, but he was a week early.
Sephiroth must have advanced it somehow. Cloud scowled, brow furrowing as he glared down at his boots. He steeled himself and gently detached the man's arm from his shoulders, pausing with a hand to the trunk of a nearby tree and glancing back at the clearing. "My swords- I can't leave them."
"Relax," Simon murmured, shaking his head and continuing forward, "I'll come back for them when I've got you both settled. I can't carry everything like this." He smiled gently, trying to catch Cloud's eyes and hoping he was a reassuring somehow. "I promise, I won't abandon them there."
Cloud looked terrible. Not in pain, as he said, but still, he was definitely not in perfect condition. It worried Simon a great deal, and he headed for the house as quickly as he could.
Cloud felt a twinge, gazing back at the swords reluctantly, and back at Zack draped over Simon's shoulder.
Zack was more important.
Cloud trudged after Simon, footsteps dragging slightly. He was exhausted, but he'd been this tired before and still managed to move onward. It wasn't anything he couldn't deal with, and besides that...with his failing memory, he was curious. "...who are you?"
Simon glanced back, startled by Cloud's question, though he really should have expected it. It had been 21 years for him - he hardly looked anything like the child he'd once been. Tall, thin, battle-worn, and far less shy than he used to be... there were nothing but echoes of the old Simon in him now. He honestly couldn't think of a single thing to do that would make him recognizable to the man he considered his adoptive father, regardless of age.
Instead, he smiled, shaking his head slightly, and murmured, "Someone you used to know."
He looked like he was about to say more, but before he could do so, there was something wriggling about in his cloak, and a scant second later Boota poked out of it, right beside Simon's head, paw lifted in greeting. "Buu-buu!"
Boota...Cloud blinked at him. What was that little guinea-pig rat-thing (mole-pig, if he recalled correctly) doing here? It always only rode around with-
Suddenly something clicked into place and Cloud gaped at the man an entire half-foot taller than him. "S-Simon...?!"
Simon blushed a little, lifting his free hand to scratch at his cheek. "Ah... yeah. It's me." He smiled a bit nostalgically, his visible eye soft and calm. "It's been a long time... Papa."
It was strange, calling a man several years younger than he by that name, but he couldn't think to do anything else. Papa was Papa, no matter what age he was.
More staring, and suddenly Cloud swayed, leaning against a nearby tree with the heel of his palm pressed to his forehead and his voice faint. "Okay. Okay. I can see that happening, probably. Weirder stuff has happened here."
Simon's smile faded, immediately following Cloud to the tree and reaching out to touch his shoulder, trying to be reassuring. "Are you alright? Don't push yourself!"
Shaking his head, then realizing the motion and correcting himself with a nod, Cloud pushed off of the tree. "I'm fine. Let's get back to the house." Thankfully, their -their ! This grown man was Simon!- house wasn't that far, and as soon as the door was open and Simon inside with Zack laid out on his bed Cloud gratefully sank into a chair at the table, resting his forehead against the cool wood with a sigh.
Simon glanced at Cloud briefly, watching him slump into a chair, and forced himself to check Zack out before he did anything else. The man was just knocked out, it seemed, so he set a bit of ice over the head wound and covered him with a blanket to let him rest. Once he'd finished there, he moved to where Cloud had sat and crouched by his chair, lips pursing. "Can get you anything, or help you in any way? You look terrible."
Again, Cloud stopped himself from shaking his head and paused to actually consider the question before answering quietly, not lifting his face. "A glass of water would be really, really great." Plus, it would give him time to try and figure out the words needed for the plethora of questions muddling up the mess already present in his head.
With a hasty nod, Simon was gone, disappearing into the kitchen and hurrying back just a few moments later, taking up the same position and handing Cloud a glass of water. He smiled sympathetically, waiting to see what would happen next. Hopefully he could do something to ease Cloud's worries. He hated to see the man who had done so much for him in such a terrible state.
Lifting his head wearily and taking a grateful gulp of the water, Cloud let his head fall back to the table, resting for a moment. After a few seconds, he turned his face to stare at Simon, sure that his expression portrayed just how confused he was. "...what happened?" He hoped that Simon would understand that he wasn't just talking about Sephiroth.
Simon blinked, then shifted, rising to his feet and sitting down in the chair beside him. He hesitated a moment, then brushed a hand through his hair, smiling weakly. "I wish I could tell you, exactly. To be honest, I'm not sure - I remember being here as a kid, but that's been about twenty years now... and a lot else has happened since I went home."
"T-twenty..." Cloud echoed faintly; Simon was twenty-seven then, maybe twenty-eight. He finally lifted his head and examined the boy -man, the man- closely, noting the bags beneath his eyes, tired lines, the eyepatch. His hands were calloused and worn, and the look in his visible eye was the same one he saw in the eyes of his friends, family, in the mirror; the eyes of someone who suffered horrible loss, and had struggled to survive.
It broke Cloud's heart, and he furiously suppressed the automatic need to berate himself for not protecting Simon from those kinds of experiences. Instead, he merely reached out across the table, leaning forward, and...set his hand atop Simon's head, ruffled his hair slightly. It was strange; Simon was taller than he now, and older, too. But he still saw his little boy, the sweet, caring, shy and honestly good little kid he'd found in the forest.
Simon's eyes widened at the gentle, familiar act, and it barely took a second for that small smile to break out into a grin, eye sparking with more life than before, a definite and unmistakable joy there. He was back... he was home! Cloud was with him, and who knew who else he'd find in Luceti again?
He swallowed hard, almost shaken, and bowed his head briefly, brushing a hand through his hair. "I'm glad... I'm so glad I made it back here..."
It wasn't hard to recognize the tone of someone who had suffered, and Cloud was torn between wanting to press for details and telling him keep it to himself. Wearily, he offered Simon as solid a smile as he could, and rested his head back on the table. He was so tired... "If you want to talk about it, I'll listen. But if you want to keep it to yourself...well, I can definitely understand that."
Simon glanced back at Cloud, studying his expression and the position of his body. It only took a moment to make his decision. "I'll tell you anything you want to know," he offered softly, brow furrowing, "But right now you should be resting. You look exhausted, and I won't let you force yourself for my sake."
Cloud searched his expression, and pursed his lips, brow furrowing sadly. Did he remember...? "...Simon, what...do you remember from being here in Luceti...?"
That was about as transparent a question as Simon had ever heard. He paused a moment, considering his options, and replied, "It's all coming back to me in pieces, bit by bit. But... I remember everything about you."
And if he was interpreting the look on Cloud's face right, he... was almost at the end of his time.
Well...it was a relief and not at the same time. This way, he wouldn't have to tell Simon again...but it was still a hard expression to see on a loved one's face, even if it was older than he remembered it being. At least this Simon appeared to be taking it better than his child version, not that it was a surprise. Cloud closed his eyes and sighed through his nose before nodding slightly, pressing his palm against the table and struggling to stand. He felt a weight settle in his stomach when he found he couldn't; his legs shook and wouldn't support his weight.
Simon was on his feet immediately, grasping Cloud's arm and gently easing it over his shoulders once more, hefting the man to his feet. "There we go," he mumbled, smiling again, though it was a bit strained. "You're still alive now, so let's try to keep that true for as long as we can, okay? That means you have to let me take care of you this time."
Cloud hated to be a downer -much to everyone's surprise, he was sure- but time had turned him pessimistic over optimistic, and he didn't want Simon to believe something that wasn't going to come true. He let his head rest against Simon's shoulder as they started down the hallway to the bedroom -guest, probably, since Zack was in his bed. "Simon, I'm tired. I...don't want to drag out the inevitable."
Simon frowned, not liking that fatalistic attitude, even if they both knew it was the truth. It didn't mean he had to like it.
"You promised you'd come back," he murmured, leading them down the hall and guiding Cloud into his room, guiding him towards the bed. "I... hope I'm still here when you do."
"I will come back," Cloud told him firmly, and he toed off his boots as he slid into the bed, looking up at Simon with a tired but determined expression. "And...you'll be here when I come back. I'll hurry." He offered a smile, reaching out and giving Simon's hand a quick squeeze before setting his hand on his stomach, above the covers.
"You'd better," Simon managed, expression pained, but dammit he would hold on to that smile for as long as he could. "I'll come looking for you if you don't, and you really don't want me to be the one to find you then!" He grinned, the expression a bit cheeky, and lifted a fist. "I'm not afraid to use a good punch as a life lesson, even to you."
Giving a snort, Cloud lets his head rest on the pillow and he closes his eyes; a nap sounds really good. "I wouldn't put it past you, now that you've got the height advantage."
Cloud was looking more and more tired as time passed, so Simon softened his voice, pulling up a chair to sit beside the bed. "No matter how big or old I am, you'll always be Papa. I promise."
Cloud snorted again, although it was softer and more affectionate. He turned his head to murmur to Simon, although he didn't open his eyes. "I'm younger than you now...admittedly, it's a little weird, but you're still Simon so it's not that weird." He laughed softly.
Simon reached out, brushing a hand through Cloud's hair soothingly, just as Cloud used to do for him. "I get the feeling things will be kind of weird for a while," he mused, "But maybe that's okay. Maybe a bit of weirdness is just what we need." It certainly had helped today - he'd been able to protect Cloud and Zack from death, and he himself had been able to reunite with people he'd never imagined seeing again.
Shifting slightly into the touch, Cloud sighs; sleep tugs at the corner of his mind, but for some reason he feels the urge to fend it off and does so, opening his eyes a fraction to look up at Simon. "...things got hard for you again, didn't they?"
Simon hesitated, not wanting to stress Cloud out too badly. But it wasn't something he could easily hide, either - he knew he looked tired, and the way he dressed was a dead giveaway that he hadn't settled anywhere. Not to mention the eyepatch, and he was wary of diving into that one any time soon.
"A little bit," he admitted, smiling like he meant it. "Things happen. But it's more important to just keep going with it, no matter what."
"It's okay to rely on other people," Cloud murmurs, gaze dropping from Simon's face momentarily before lifting back up, sincere. "You don't always have to do everything alone."
Simon shook his head, giving Cloud's hand a little pat. "Sometimes you don't have a choice. When people rely on you to help them... or when the ones who want to help you are gone..." He stopped himself there, and let his smile fade, looking away for a moment. "Anyway, what's past is past."
Cloud's expression fell, and his lips pursed as his eyes closed. "You're right, probably. ...you'd probably know better than me, at this point." It was strange. He was so accustomed to feeding Simon his own ideals -or rather, the ideals of other people he'd adopted as his own- that hearing Simon refute something he'd said was almost like a rejection. It stung a little, even though he knew Simon's situations differed from his own, and it struck him that while he was still "papa," he couldn't be "papa" right now.
Simon caught his expression, lips pursing, then leaned down to rest his chin on his arms on the bed, his own expression a bit wistful. "I knew someone who'd hit me for being such a downer. He'd tell me to believe in him, or believe in myself, or even to believe in you. He's the reason I kept fighting... the reason I couldn't afford to lose. I always wanted to be like him." He shook his head, nostalgic now. "The same way I wanted to be like you, when I was here. I probably don't know better than you... I just deal with things differently, I guess. It's... who I've become."
"Mm," Cloud hummed, nodding slightly, and automatically -without him even realizing it- his hand lit atop Simon's head, stroking his hair. "I know the feeling. You push and push and...try to be like the person you look up to, but end up not quite making it." He sighed, eyes still closed, and his hand moved sluggishly atop Simon's head. "I'm not at that 'accepting yourself' part yet that you sound like you've reached, but I'm sure I'll get there someday." He allowed himself a tired chuckle. "I was so sure I was screwing you up somehow."
Simon shared the chuckle, shaking his head, leaning into the touch and letting his eye close for a moment, enjoying the fatherly motion after so long. "You did nothing wrong. The months I spent here were some of the happiest I've ever experienced."
"Good." Cloud smiled faintly, even as his fingers lingered on Simon's hair before trailing vaguely off the side of his face. "I was hoping I'd..." He trails off, losing his train of thought, appearing to doze off, breathing light.
Simon opened his eyes and watched him for a long moment, lips pursed, expression pained and visibly grieving already. He really had no time left, did he...
He lifted himself up, giving Cloud's hair one last gentle stroke, and returned to his chair to watch over him. "You did," he murmured, smiling almost peacefully, though inside he felt anything but. "You really did."
Rousing himself slightly, Cloud blinked sleepily up at Simon before his head fell to the side, eyes closing again. "Love you, kiddo."
Simon swallowed hard. "L... love you, Papa."
Really, there was nothing else he could have said.
dawndigger), Future!Sephiroth (bene_elohim), Cloud Strife (am_i_a_hero), Zack Fair (wingenvy). Later: Tifa Lockhart (7thheavensmile) and Denzel Strife (midgetedger).What: It is tiem to fite, eh. And die and stuff. Character death, be ye warned.
When: At the beginning of the timeskip event, Tier 1.
Where: Between houses 29 and 50, and then house 50.
Summary: Seph goes batshit, attacks Zack. Zack calls for help
Rating: PG yo.
There was definitely something weird going on in Luceti. Granted, something weird was usually going on in Luceti, to the point where 'weird' were the normal days, but this was definitely a sort of weird that made him puzzle over the sanity of their captors. A bunch of people becoming kids again? It was cute and all, but kind of old hat. Not to mention he'd apparently missed this round, too. There was something off about this time, though, which had him stepping on eggshells for reasons he couldn't explain. He opted to stick close to home while he sorted out just what was going on.
Oddly enough, though, home was much darker than he imagined it would be when he opened the door. As he entered the house he and Sephiroth shared, he found it completely pitch black, no lights on, the blinds apparently drawn. Weird. He gave the closest switch and flip and found it busted. Really weird. Still, outages happened sometimes, so he began to wander the house, searching for the housemate he assumed was still around, though why he'd be lurking in the dark like this was beyond him. "Seph?"
He'd found his voice earlier that day…and hers. She'd begun to whisper to him, and it hadn't taken him long to figure out that it was his mother, it was Mother speaking to him. She told him she knew how he could escape, but first there were things to be done, things to be taken care of here in Luceti. It made sense; everyone seemed so content in their little green cage that Sephiroth had quickly grown irritated at the lax, lackadaisical attitude of his fellow prisoners.
Zack was among their numbers as those content to sit back and be used, something Sephiroth would have never imagined. But Zack had changed; Mother told him so, told him how Zack rejected her offer of salvation, how he'd boasted that he was happier here in this world. It was like a slap to the face- Zack was his second-in-command, his friend, and he'd told the boy that he wanted and needed his help. Help, apparently, the young man wasn't prepared to give.
It didn't matter. Sephiroth would take care of things one way or another.
When he heard Zack's voice call his name -that blasted nickname that he couldn't stand- something rose, white hot and ready inside Sephiroth's chest, and Mother whispered softly into his ear that it was time to take care of things. So he found his voice…just as he'd found hers. "Zackary."
Zack nearly jumped. It took damn near all the willpower he had not to, and it was a thing of pride that he didn't. But that came out of nowhere. Literally. He spun around, eyes widening, and spotted those glowing slitted eyes in the dark. Okaaaay, that was different. He fought back the various instincts screaming "BAD IDEA BAD IDEA" in his head and took a step closer, wishing he wasn't sensing that awful build-up of dread. This was Seph, for Shiva's sake. Just Seph.
"I'm right here," he replied, frowning in the dark and fumbling for another light switch. That one didn't work either. "What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark like this?"
"Mimicking you." Sephiroth couldn't help a soft chuckle at that, pressing a few fingertips to his forehead, shaking it a little. That was as corny as it was cliche. Mother hissed that he was wasting time, and the laughter faded as he glanced back up at Zack. "Where were you?" His fingers tightened on his biceps before he pushed off of the wall to meet Zack, moving closer. Masamune was in his room.
He wouldn't need it.
Wait, what? Seph sounded weird. Like something was off with him - familiar, but at the same time not. He took a careful step back as he heard the faint soft of Sephiroth approaching, not showing fear, only caution. He knew Seph hated people cowering from him, and he wasn't scared, just... concerned. Something was wrong here.
.... Hey, since when did he get his voice back?
"I was just out for a walk," he replied calmly, eyes flitting from one side of the room to the other. Damn the mako! He couldn't see a thing.
Sephiroth paused. "I see." He moved again, away from Zack this time, eyes adjusted to the dark as well as they would the day, and he reached for his journal, flipping through it, gaze becoming harsher and harsher as he examined its contents. Lazy, insufferable little insects. They didn't understand anything…and Zack was becoming one of them. Going for a walk. "Discover anything interesting, Zackary?"
"... Not really." Zack squinted a bit, following Sephiroth's movement only by his eyes. He could barely see more than a silhouette, and it was frustrating as hell. More than that, he was starting to get a good idea of just what was happening here, and he really didn't like it. Unconsciously his hand lifted to his chest, grazing over the spot where Masamune had sliced him in the Nibelheim reactor. Seph... sounded all wrong. "I think something weird's going on in town, though. Notice anything different?"
Sneering at this, Sephiroth snapped his journal shut with a sharp sound, turning to glare darkly at Zack through the shadows. "Different? From their usual behavior, I'm assuming? Hardly. Perhaps they look and sound differently, but they all still think the same way. Dullards." Sephiroth tossed the journal onto the couch; it skidded and nearly toppled onto the floor. "Becoming soft and lazy here, with their comforts provided. I daresay the majority of them have even forgotten that they've been brought here against their will."
Sephiroth lifted his chin. "Although I suppose that's not the case with you at all, is it?"
Well, shit. Zack took another step back, keeping his back to the door so it would be simple to turn and run for it if he had to. Admittedly he knew there was precious little he could do if Seph really wanted a piece of him, but there was still that hope that this could be resolved. ...Somehow.
"I don't forget that kind of thing," he disagreed quietly, eyeing his friend and inwardly praying he wasn't too far gone. "I just don't let it ruin my life while I'm here."
"Life?" Mother hissed in his ear, and Sephiroth agreed. His voice rose dangerously, and he took two quick steps in Zack's direction, hand lashing out to fist in the man's shirt at his neck. "This is not living, Zackary. This is passing the days in captivity like a drugged animal. There is no life here to be had. You were better of dead." Sephiroth emphasizes this by leaning in slightly. He would make Zack understand, one way or another.
That one stung. Zack had to fight back a wince, eyes averting briefly before he caught himself and went back to watching the other man, feeling a wave of frustration at not being able to get through to his friend. Even if it was currently one-sided.
Was Cloud right? Was it just a matter of time before this happened, or are the Malnosso...
It made sense - the timing certainly did. And if that was the case, then he didn't want to end up saying or doing something he'd regret. He didn't want to antagonize Seph either. This would be a tough one. "You and I are just going to have to disagree with you there, man," he replied, hands lifting to his hips. "It doesn't bother me as much as the others."
"Obviously," Sephiroth snorted, and released Zack. He turned on his heel towards the hallway, navigating easily to his room and recovering Masamune. The weight was familiar and welcome; Mother murmured her approval, and a ghost of a smile turned his lips as he traced the scratches and lines of the hilt with a finger. The soft clink of it against his belt heralded his return to the living room, and he drew the blade slightly, savoring the hiss of cold, refined steel. It had been too long; there had been nothing to fight, the Malnosso hiding away behind that damned barrier, and the citizens lulling themselves to sleep with a false sense of security.
Well. Perhaps all they needed was a bit of wake-up call. Sephiroth was more than happy to provide it, and drew Masamune fully.
Oh thank god. Zack didn't waste any time -as soon as Sephiroth let go and left the room, he took off like a rocket out of the house (or at least moving as fast as he could without running into something) and down the pathway to the bridge crossing the river. He didn't know what Seph was planning, but he had a really good idea that he didn't want to be too close when he snapped completely.
As he moved, he lifted his journal to his lips, hissing into it a quiet call for aid. Cloud wasn't at his best, but he could think of no one else he could trust with this. Much as he hated being in the state he was in, he knew he couldn't fight Sephiroth alone and survive. As it was... it would be close.
He'd run. How quaint. Of course, Sephiroth had expected it; Zack might have let himself fall into the impression that this world was bearable, but he wasn't stupid by any means. Regardless, there weren't many places Zack could go, and less people he could call. Sephiroth wasn't sure if it was because of Mother's whispers or even his own quiet musings, but he felt that if anyone should be liberated of this place, it was Zack. The Malnosso brought people back from the dead, but Sephiroth was sure he would be able to stop them before they could bring Zack back. If not...well, he'd just kill Zack again.
Sephiroth quietly opened the door and started after Zack, ears trained for his bootfalls, breaths and even heartbeat.
He was scared. Cloud had only been flipping idly through the journal for something to do; as the days passed, he'd been finding himself tiring much more quickly, and would spend a lot of time either in bed or reclining on the couch. He'd run out of books for the day and, too tired to go to the library and unwilling to tear Simon and Denzel from whatever activities they'd set themselves to, had settled himself on the couch with his journal, reviewing the strange events. Probably another experiment; there were people turning into children left and right.
And then he'd run across Sephiroth's entry. And his blood ran cold, fingers clutching the pages so tightly they crinkled. Not long after that, Zack's whispered message had reached his ears at the turn of the page and he was halfway across the room before it had even finished. The journal was abandoned on Cloud's bed and he struggled to buckle his hostler over his shoulder and around his waist with one hand. Angrily he abandoned it, wrenching First Tsurugi from the sheath and tearing from the house with a fervor he hadn't felt in weeks. Zack-
Zack-!!
Zack was getting a little tired of running, and he'd barely even started. It wasn't something he was used to, and it was definitely not something he enjoyed. Still, necessity always beat out pride in his mind, and survival was the most important thing of all. So that's why he was sitting around in a rather ragged cove of trees, ducking behind everything he could find for proper cover until backup arrived. Sephiroth was not pulling any punches at all.
Cloud... I hope I'm not going to damn us both by calling you here.
He didn't have to search far; Sephiroth always overestimated the stamina of normal people, and this case was no exception. He could hear Zack breathe in the copse of trees as if the man was right at his shoulder. His lips twitched, and slowly he advanced. It would be over soon.
Cloud tore across the river in one of the more shallow areas, water sloshing at his calves and soaking through his boots and pants, rushing around him and tugging at the cloth but not slowing his advance in the least. Zack had told him to look in the trees; he was hiding then, which meant that he couldn't run any longer. Not good, not good. The leather of his glove squeaked as Cloud's grip on First Tsurugi's handle tightened, and he scanned the clearing with a brief, hurried and panicked gaze. He didn't see Zack in the trees.
But he did see Sephiroth approaching them. Gritting his teeth and putting on a burst of speed, Cloud ducked past the clump of trees and lifted First Tsurugi, bracing the dull side with his left shoulder and hissing sharply as the Masamune collided with it with enough force to run a shock up along his neck and rattle his teeth.
Zack saw Cloud as he charged in, and that was his sign to join in. He knew he couldn't do much to help, but he'd been practicing like crazy and sparred with Sephiroth enough times to feel the confidence required to take on Sephiroth. ... With help, of course. He could at least serve as a semi-reasonable distraction.
He unsheathed the broadsword Angeal had given him and charged in from the side, swinging out towards Sephiroth's back. He didn't expect it to connect - please, this was Sephiroth - but it was as good a start as any.
Sephiroth didn't follow Zack with his eyes, keeping them trained on the blonde in front of him, but heard the gravel and soil beneath his boot as he turned, heard the whistle of air parting for the blade of a sword -broadsword, probably- and could almost feel Zack's eyes trained on his back. It was a blow intended to cripple or kill; it could have, if Zack had the power necessary to do something like that to him. Sephiroth could move, knock Strife aside and block with the Masamune, but...
Seph's hand snapped out and he caught the edge of the broadsword, the sharp edge biting into his glove slightly, but leaving only a small red line across his palm, which sealed itself almost instantly with a hiss of Mako. Mother murmured murderous threats, and Sephiroth felt comfort; his eyes never left Strife's.
Cloud struggled against the force Masamune was applying to First Tsurugi; the assembled blade was too heavy. Cloud didn't have the strength to push back and keep the blade aloft at the same time, and he was about to move and duck around to snap the releases and snatch up Vigilante when a black blur emerged from the trees and circled Sephiroth gracefully, lunging in to attack. It was Zack; Cloud knew he wouldn't have stood idly by, but his heart sunk when Sephiroth merely caught the blade without even looking.
Something pulled at his attention and against his will, Cloud's eyes lifted to meet Sephiroth's; his left arm throbbed suddenly and he yelped, faltering, twisting First Tsurugi to knock Masamune aside and stagger to the side. If he could keep Sephiroth's attention forward, he wouldn't be able to attack Zack with the intent to kill, so he held his ground, panting, fighting the urge to clutch at his arm.
Zack knew this wasn't easy for Cloud; he could see him struggling, see the trouble he was having even so early into the fight. This was a dangerous game, and it was - he was forced to admit - a little frightening. If they didn't stop Sephiroth, who would? How many people would he hurt before they or anyone else was strong enough to stop him? The questions plagued him, and he hated it. Forcibly he shoved off his worries and focused back on the fight, struggling against Sephiroth's grip, but they both knew it was a lost cause. There was no way in hell he was going to break that grip.
Fine, screw it. He twisted the broadsword as much as he could in Sephiroth's grasp, then kicked off the ground, using momentum and the sword itself (and the grip holding it in place) to jump just high enough above to to lash a foot out at the Shinra general's head. Spike needed a moment to catch himself from whatever had hurt him - damn Geostigma again, probably - and dammit, Zack was going to deliver.
Sephiroth smirked when Strife retreated, but the blade in his left hand wrenched and Zack swung into the air. Assured that whatever Strife threw at him wouldn't be very dangerous, Sephiroth turned with an irritated frown and dropped the Masamune. With his two free hands, he knocked aside Zack's kick and caught Zack's neck neatly in his outstretched hand. He debated crushing the man's throat when the air shifted at his back and on instinct, he turned.
A collection of blades littered the ground around Cloud's feet, and a thin but vicious broadsword remained in his hand; it was now in a ridiculously speedy arc aiming straight for his head. With a sharp hiss, Sephiroth hurled Zack back towards the copse of trees, ducking and rolling, snatching up Masamune and bringing it up into a block.
Well that had gone spectacularly badly. Not that he'd really expected much. The second Sephiroth grabbed his throat, Zack intensified his struggles, lashing and kicking as best as he could with the hand of the strongest man in the world slowly choking the life out of him. Really, he was lucky Seph didn't snap his neck.
Not too long ago it wouldn't have been that easy.
He could do nothing to stop the man, however, and before he knew it he'd been sent flying, and though he tried to twist in midair to catch himself, his back became good friends with a tree and he was essentially down for the count. Attempting to get up after that one resulted in more pain than he was used to and a coughing fit, so before long he was forced to admit defeat and merely watch.
Cloud... win, or retreat. Please. But don't die...!
Cloud's roar was probably the loudest noise he'd made in months at the sight of Zack unmoving several yards away. He didn't know if he was stunned, knocked out or worse, but something burned in his stomach and pushed against the Masamune, hard, and spat curses through gritted teeth at the face gazing calmly back at him. He'd admired, adored and nearly worshipped Sephiroth in his youth...but since then it had been twisted into a mixture of pity, fear, dread and absolute writhing hate. Everything wretched that had come about had been brought by this man's hand; perhaps not directly responsible, but playing as much a part as anyone. He knew Zack defended Sephiroth, said that something was wrong, or different, but this Sephiroth, the one he was fighting now, was the one Cloud hated.
The one who'd hurt or destroyed everything and everyone dear to him...and who had just tried to kill Zack. Cloud's left fingers twitched, and with an almost detached sense of surprise wrenched his arm free of the sling to slug Sephiroth firmly across the face, the man's head snapping to the side from the force of the punch and staggering back. Shock entered his eyes for just a moment when Cloud's connected with his, and he leaped in for the kill.
That was a mistake. The moment Strife moved forward, Sephiroth barked out a gruff laugh and lashed out, closing a hand around Strife's wrist. All it took was a squeeze, a little twist and Mother's flooding presence and the young man's eyes snapped open, wide and panicked before he screamed, legs swaying for a second before collapsing. Sephiroth held him upright by the wrist. Mother was whispering, using the physical contact between them and twisting Strife's mind; the scream cut off into something more of a gurgle, eyes going blank as he shuddered.
Sephiroth released Strife after a moment, and the blonde crumpled neatly at his feet, twitching, eyes staring blankly at his feet. He tilted his head to the side; weak. They were always far too weak for his precious mother. Adjusting his grip on Masamune, Sephiroth lifted the blade high, giving Strife's left shoulder a rough kick to roll him onto his back; the man didn't so much as whimper. Dragging the point of Masamune over Strife's stomach and debating making this slow and painful, Sephiroth had to admit that he didn't have the time, and lifted the blade right over Cloud's throat with the intention of impaling his neck.
Waking up in Luceti for the second time in his life was one of the greatest shocks he'd ever experienced. he could recall with perfect clarity the first time - as a child, hiding in terror, and shortly after feeling more loved and cared for than any other time in his life. He couldn't remember going home, and many of the small details were missing, but it all came together to form one emotion he'd sorely missed: joy.
Once he'd gathered his thoughts and gotten his bearings, he realized he was surprisingly close to the home he'd shared with Cloud and his family years ago. It was amazing to see it still standing - it felt like it had been forever, and the nostalgia was almost choking. Why wouldn't someone crave a family? Idly, he wondered if anyone was still living there. Had they all gone home? Were the Malnosso still going at it? He could feel familiar wings at his back, so that seemed answer enough.
He'd been about to approach the house, maybe pop by to see if anyone was around - it was a long shot, but he wasn't known for giving up - but as he did so, he heard the clash of swords and raised voice not far off, just across the river. Someone was fighting, and it didn't sound good. Without hesitation he adjusted the staff at his shoulder and took off running, heading for the battle ahead.
What he found, however, was completely unexpected. Three very familiar men had gathered together, facing off and attacking all at once. Sephiroth, he knew, though much darker and more cruel than he used to be. Zack, doing his best without the boost of strength he'd heard about in his childhood, a brief contender before he was knocked out with disturbing ease. And then-
...And then-
And then it was time to move.
There was no time to think, no time to consider his options. The long katana flashed in the light, and energy flared around his body, shooting him forward at inhuman speeds. His staff rose, the drill attached to the end of it weightless in the midst of his charge, and before the men in front of him could react, he was between Sephiroth and Cloud, his staff blocking the katana's mortal blow. He strained against Sephiroth's arm, head lifting, one eye hidden beneath an eyepatch, the other shadowed in a protective glare.
"I won't let you kill them, Sephiroth," Simon murmured, hand tightening around his staff. It was his turn to protect Cloud.
Something was holding back the Masamune; something strong. Sephiroth met the eyes -eye, really- of the man in front of him, lips pursing tightly. The air was tight, laced with power, and he knew this wasn't an opponent to be taken lightly. The man was familiar…Sephiroth knew he'd met him before. He didn't forget a face, and would never disregard a power like this, ever. Cautiously, Sephiroth retreated, snapping back a few steps and keeping his eyes locked on the man's face, Mother murmuring in the back of his mind and, frankly, being a little distracting. He sent an exasperated shush in her direction and she silenced herself, albeit reluctantly. With the lack of her voice, Sephiroth searched his memory, and a name rang clear.
Simon.
Sephiroth would have grinned, if the man wasn't standing opposite of him and protectively over his prey. So, he had been correct. Naturally.
There was too much, too much too much-
Images and memories, voices, words, poured in and out and around and through his mind and tore at him, and Cloud desperately searched for what was real and what wasn't, clawing through it and trying to find something to hold onto, to keep himself.
Papa! Panicked, Cloud latched onto the voice, clung for dear life, hung on even as Jenova hissed and curled in his mind, pierced and thrashed and cut him to ribbons. Papa! Cloud gritted his teeth; something flapped above him- his body? He had a body?- and tickled his cheek. He shifted, his sense of self returned; that's right, he had a body. He was Cloud. There was someone above him.
"Simon," he croaked, searching for the little boy before remembering that he wasn't there, thank Holy. His head fell to the side; he was tired.
Simon heard the voice below him, heard what was said, but he didn't let it distract him enough to turn away from his opponent. Did Cloud recognize him? Did he remember him that well? The thought made a small smile cross his lips, short-lived but welcome in its coming. He held the drill-staff out in front of him, ready and waiting to defend against anything Sephiroth wanted to throw at him. He didn't know what to expect from the man, besides the fact that he had enough power to probably lay waste to this entire world and not break a sweat, but that didn't matter. He wanted to kill Cloud, and that meant that an entire army of Sephiroths couldn't make Simon back down.
"Turn back now," he continued, reaching within himself to activate his power, green energy swirling almost lazily around him. The intensity of the air around the both of them was breathtaking. "I don't care how strong you are. This isn't a fight you can win."
"That isn't an option." It was the truth; Sephiroth would eventually have to confront Simon regardless, and now was as good a time as any. Better, even, now that Simon had someone to look after. It wasn't exactly honorable, but Mother murmured to him that honor wasn't as valuable as it once was, and he had to agree. Why bother with honor when no one else did?
Not to say that this battle was going to be easy. In fact, if his hunch about Simon was correct he may not even be victorious. The sudden intensity of the air around them and the swirling green -resembling Mako, even- around Simon's form was enough proof of that. Sephiroth tightened his grip around Masamune's hilt, and charged.
Simon reacted immediately, twisting the drill-staff to meet Sephiroth's attack. On his own he could never dream to match that kind of speed, but with the Spiral power aiding him, fueling his body, he was able to fend off Sephiroth's incredible strength. This wasn't going to be a simple one-hit fight, he knew that much. But there was too much resting on his shoulders for anything but victory to be acceptable. Cloud's life, and Zack's, were on the line, and those stakes were too high for him to sit back and give up. He would fight till the last if he had to, even if it took all the Spiral power he could muster.
He didn't wait around for Sephiroth to make the second move, immediately spinning the drill-staff between his fingers, relying on the circular motion to raise its power, like always, and swung forward towards Sephiroth's side. If he'd had Gurren Lagann or the Core Drill, he would have been much stronger, but he'd have to make due. Hopefully he'd grown enough in seven years to be enough to defend against the seasoned warrior before him.
The blocked strike Simon swung at him rang loud, and Sephiroth's brow twitched lightly. Mother began muttering again and he hissed mentally for her to shut up, and let him concentrate thank you very much. Crossing his wrists, Sephiroth grabbed the bar of the staff, pushing slightly and dislodging Masamune to turn his back to Simon and swing the blade before and to the side, his hand tight around the staff, his back to Simon's grip on it and the sharp edge of Masamune cutting the air as it raced towards him.
Sephiroth was incredible. By far the most skilled opponent Simon had ever faced, and fleetingly he wished he had more experience with hand-to-hand combat. Still, there was no avoiding it now. He focused for a split second, energy around him intensifying, swirling together around his body to create a shield just big enough to deflect the Masamune. At the same time he let a fragment of the energy pass through his hand into the staff, and it practically roared to life, the drill at the top spinning perilously close to Sephiroth's head. Simon gave the staff a good, rough shove, intent on driving it downwards while the pale-haired soldier couldn't use his sword to defend.
There was no time. Masamune struck the shield- there was a sharp, harsh sound, and his hand nearly went numb from the force. Ripping the sheath from his side with his left hand, Sephiroth brought it up to defend. Of course, it didn't stand up to the drill, but its desctruction gave him just enough time to duck and roll away to the side, breathing a little labored.
Simon was incredible. It almost gave him a flair of pride. Almost.
Simon relaxed the aura of Spiral power around his body, feeling more strained than he had in the battles against the Anti-Spirals years ago. Something was wrong - he was getting tired too quickly. Was it because of where he was? He vaguely recalled hearing something about people being weaker in Luceti... that had to be it. And if that was the case, it meant he couldn't be wasteful about where his energy was spent.
He straightened up, holding the drill-staff level before his body once more, and stepped to the side so he was between Sephiroth and Cloud's prone body once more. He wasn't about to forget who the man's true target had been. Now how could he force a retreat? It would be better if he could avoid a death, particularly when Sephiroth had already dealt with that once before. And he had no way of knowing if his sudden mental shift was due to the Malnosso's meddling... he hated not being aware of the situation.
"Sephiroth," he tried again, turning his body slightly to the side. He didn't want to give Sephiroth the advantage - with the eyepatch on, he had one very crucial weakness which the man had yet to exploit. "I'll say it one more time. You're not going to win this."
"Your confidence isn't without adequate reason," Sephiroth muttered, eyes flicking quickly to Strife behind him to ensure that the man wouldn't get up and help. It didn't look like it. He returned his attention to Simon, rising again to his feet, Masamune at rest at his side. "However, I think you are overlooking a crucial detail." He gestured lazily to Cloud with the tip of his sword, and to Zack. "They need medical attention; if not given, they'll most likely die. You don't have the time to waste here, but I do." If he could force Simon into a panick, or into a hasty retreat then he might have the opportunity he'd need to strike and kill.
Sephiroth had a point. He could feel the life pulses of Cloud and Zack - that was what Spiral power was, after all - and they were weak, thready, not quite all there. They weren't dying, but they weren't doing well either. That just added to the urgency of the situation. Still, he couldn't just charge in blind. He might have done so years ago, in his youth, but with age comes wisdom, as they say.
"Thanks for pointing that out," he mused, shifting position so his body was slightly lower to the ground, energy flaring dangerously to life once more. With a flick of the wrist his drill began to spin again, faster than before, glowing green. "I'll have to end this, then."
And with that said, and a powerful roar on the tip of his tongue, he lunged forward, stabbing the drill in for the strongest blow yet.
Sephiroth surpressed a smile; not a response he'd been expecting. Simon had changed; certainly the Simon of the past would have panicked, withdrawn. This new Simon...he was a warrior, and a good one. A well of respect warmed his stomach and shushed Mother's angry reprimands, and as Simon lunged Sephiroth lifted Masamune to block.
The drill connected with the flat of the blade, spun against it; there was the shriek of metal on metal, and the sword vibrated against Sephiroth's bracing wrist and through down to the hilt, in his hand. Something occured to Sephiroth and he lurched back just in time. Masamune gave one last shriek before there was a sound of shattering glass, and the blade snapped. Shards exploded outward, one nicking Sephiroth's cheek and drawing a line of red even as he kicked back. He stared hard at the hilt in his hand before throwing it aside.
Simon almost let a smile cross his lips, but he wasn't about to get cocky. Sephiroth was unarmed, but that didn't mean he was defeated. He pulled back the drill-staff, still spinning wildly, and pointed the tip at Sephiroth's throat. "I think the next move is yours," he said quietly, waiting to see what the soldier would do. It was a shame about his sword, though - that had been an incredible blade.
There wasn't a choice, now. Without Masamune, materia or anything of use -he'd cast a thought at the blades littered near Strife's body, but he was less adept at broadswords than katanas, and Simon had overpowered him with Masamune- Sephiroth didn't stand a chance. He would have to deal with Simon eventually, yes, but being killed here wouldn't advance his crusade in the least. "I know when to admit defeat," he murmured, and stepped back. Somehow, he knew Simon wouldn't attack (he had more important things to worry about)...so he gave the man his back, striding away towards the bridge. "Watch them closely. Don't think I've given up."
Simon watched him go, holding his position until his opponent was far enough away that he could react fast enough if Sephiroth decided to return. He doubted that would happen, but still, with lives on the line it never hurt to be too cautious.
Once he felt safe to do so, he spun around, hurrying back to Cloud, crouching beside him and setting the drill-staff aside so he could raise Cloud up a bit, gently shaking him. He saw no real injuries - what had Sephiroth done to him?
"Cloud," he called, voice laced with fear. He shook the man again. "Cloud!"
In his mind, the voice of a small child called Papa, papa.
Ugh. Someone was shaking him; Cloud grimaced and shook off the cobwebs and ache, opening his eyes. Sunlight shone down and blinded him, and he winced away from it, waiting until the red behind his eyelids became bearable before squinting up. There was a face hovering above him, but one look at the eye visible told him it wasn't Sephiroth. In fact...it was familiar. Very familiar. Cloud stared with half-lidded eyes, sifting through torn and shredded memories to place a name to the face, but it slipped away.
Giving up -for now- with a defeated sigh, Cloud relaxed into the stranger's arms, closing his eyes and licking his lips. "Zack," he said, remembering, and the words felt like sandpaper on his throat even as he attempted to turn and crane his neck to where the man had been lying.
Simon felt a wave of relief to see Cloud awake, giving him a good onceover to check for injuries before addressing his words. "Zack's alive," he reassured Cloud, gently brushing back his hair. He hadn't aged a day - still the same young, strong papa he remembered. "Can you stand if I help you? I don't want to leave you here, but I can't carry you both back at once."
Sweet Holy that voice was familiar, but Cloud just couldn't identify it, as hard as he tried. Not that the sensation was a particularly foreign one, but it was annoying all the same. He licked his lips again, swallowed and nodded. Hell yes he could stand up. Clutching at the man's shoulder Cloud sat up, giving himself a second to settle the vertigo before struggling to stand. Much to his irritation -and, faintly, relief- his left arm was once again useless...and now the numbness had spread partially to his neck. He couldn't turn his head completely to the left or the right, and even his chest and side felt fuzzy, like he'd been grazed by a Paralysis spell. Not exactly a good thing, considering that was where his heart was, but it was still beating so he was in good enough shape to move, anyways.
Simon did his best to help Cloud to his feet, supporting him gently and wrapping one of Cloud's arms around his shoulders. As they rose to their feet he brought the drill-staff with him, slinging it over his shoulder with a chain. Once Cloud was stable enough, he carefully led the way over to where Zack lay.
The other man was still unconscious, but when Simon carefully set Cloud back down to check him, he was stable and there was no indication that he was going to die before they reached the house for a proper examination. His back wasn't broken or anything, and the blood on his head from the collision he'd suffered was minimal. Now came the hard part - bringing them both back. It really was a good thing he'd grown up. Thin as he was, he still had enough strength to heft Zack onto his shoulder and help Cloud back up, and after a bit of juggling and careful balancing, he began their slow trek back to the house.
"How bad is it?" he murmured, casting a worried look in Cloud's direction every once in a while. "Are you in a lot of pain?"
Cloud's head was hanging just a bit, but he still shook it, although his voice was still rough. "No. It doesn't hurt anymore." And it wasn't a lie; the numbness was welcome after the pain from before, but the physical discomfort was the least of his worries. His memories were still fractured, and try as hard as he could he was having difficulties piecing them back together. Things he knew he should have known -this man's name, his birthplace, what Tifa's favorite food was and where Denzel liked to hide candy so that Tifa wouldn't take it away- escaped him far too easily, and he was quickly becoming just as frustrated as he was worried. From all the reports he'd read when he'd first been diagnosed back in his own world, memory fragmentation and failure had been the last stages of the disease, but he was a week early.
Sephiroth must have advanced it somehow. Cloud scowled, brow furrowing as he glared down at his boots. He steeled himself and gently detached the man's arm from his shoulders, pausing with a hand to the trunk of a nearby tree and glancing back at the clearing. "My swords- I can't leave them."
"Relax," Simon murmured, shaking his head and continuing forward, "I'll come back for them when I've got you both settled. I can't carry everything like this." He smiled gently, trying to catch Cloud's eyes and hoping he was a reassuring somehow. "I promise, I won't abandon them there."
Cloud looked terrible. Not in pain, as he said, but still, he was definitely not in perfect condition. It worried Simon a great deal, and he headed for the house as quickly as he could.
Cloud felt a twinge, gazing back at the swords reluctantly, and back at Zack draped over Simon's shoulder.
Zack was more important.
Cloud trudged after Simon, footsteps dragging slightly. He was exhausted, but he'd been this tired before and still managed to move onward. It wasn't anything he couldn't deal with, and besides that...with his failing memory, he was curious. "...who are you?"
Simon glanced back, startled by Cloud's question, though he really should have expected it. It had been 21 years for him - he hardly looked anything like the child he'd once been. Tall, thin, battle-worn, and far less shy than he used to be... there were nothing but echoes of the old Simon in him now. He honestly couldn't think of a single thing to do that would make him recognizable to the man he considered his adoptive father, regardless of age.
Instead, he smiled, shaking his head slightly, and murmured, "Someone you used to know."
He looked like he was about to say more, but before he could do so, there was something wriggling about in his cloak, and a scant second later Boota poked out of it, right beside Simon's head, paw lifted in greeting. "Buu-buu!"
Boota...Cloud blinked at him. What was that little guinea-pig rat-thing (mole-pig, if he recalled correctly) doing here? It always only rode around with-
Suddenly something clicked into place and Cloud gaped at the man an entire half-foot taller than him. "S-Simon...?!"
Simon blushed a little, lifting his free hand to scratch at his cheek. "Ah... yeah. It's me." He smiled a bit nostalgically, his visible eye soft and calm. "It's been a long time... Papa."
It was strange, calling a man several years younger than he by that name, but he couldn't think to do anything else. Papa was Papa, no matter what age he was.
More staring, and suddenly Cloud swayed, leaning against a nearby tree with the heel of his palm pressed to his forehead and his voice faint. "Okay. Okay. I can see that happening, probably. Weirder stuff has happened here."
Simon's smile faded, immediately following Cloud to the tree and reaching out to touch his shoulder, trying to be reassuring. "Are you alright? Don't push yourself!"
Shaking his head, then realizing the motion and correcting himself with a nod, Cloud pushed off of the tree. "I'm fine. Let's get back to the house." Thankfully, their -their ! This grown man was Simon!- house wasn't that far, and as soon as the door was open and Simon inside with Zack laid out on his bed Cloud gratefully sank into a chair at the table, resting his forehead against the cool wood with a sigh.
Simon glanced at Cloud briefly, watching him slump into a chair, and forced himself to check Zack out before he did anything else. The man was just knocked out, it seemed, so he set a bit of ice over the head wound and covered him with a blanket to let him rest. Once he'd finished there, he moved to where Cloud had sat and crouched by his chair, lips pursing. "Can get you anything, or help you in any way? You look terrible."
Again, Cloud stopped himself from shaking his head and paused to actually consider the question before answering quietly, not lifting his face. "A glass of water would be really, really great." Plus, it would give him time to try and figure out the words needed for the plethora of questions muddling up the mess already present in his head.
With a hasty nod, Simon was gone, disappearing into the kitchen and hurrying back just a few moments later, taking up the same position and handing Cloud a glass of water. He smiled sympathetically, waiting to see what would happen next. Hopefully he could do something to ease Cloud's worries. He hated to see the man who had done so much for him in such a terrible state.
Lifting his head wearily and taking a grateful gulp of the water, Cloud let his head fall back to the table, resting for a moment. After a few seconds, he turned his face to stare at Simon, sure that his expression portrayed just how confused he was. "...what happened?" He hoped that Simon would understand that he wasn't just talking about Sephiroth.
Simon blinked, then shifted, rising to his feet and sitting down in the chair beside him. He hesitated a moment, then brushed a hand through his hair, smiling weakly. "I wish I could tell you, exactly. To be honest, I'm not sure - I remember being here as a kid, but that's been about twenty years now... and a lot else has happened since I went home."
"T-twenty..." Cloud echoed faintly; Simon was twenty-seven then, maybe twenty-eight. He finally lifted his head and examined the boy -man, the man- closely, noting the bags beneath his eyes, tired lines, the eyepatch. His hands were calloused and worn, and the look in his visible eye was the same one he saw in the eyes of his friends, family, in the mirror; the eyes of someone who suffered horrible loss, and had struggled to survive.
It broke Cloud's heart, and he furiously suppressed the automatic need to berate himself for not protecting Simon from those kinds of experiences. Instead, he merely reached out across the table, leaning forward, and...set his hand atop Simon's head, ruffled his hair slightly. It was strange; Simon was taller than he now, and older, too. But he still saw his little boy, the sweet, caring, shy and honestly good little kid he'd found in the forest.
Simon's eyes widened at the gentle, familiar act, and it barely took a second for that small smile to break out into a grin, eye sparking with more life than before, a definite and unmistakable joy there. He was back... he was home! Cloud was with him, and who knew who else he'd find in Luceti again?
He swallowed hard, almost shaken, and bowed his head briefly, brushing a hand through his hair. "I'm glad... I'm so glad I made it back here..."
It wasn't hard to recognize the tone of someone who had suffered, and Cloud was torn between wanting to press for details and telling him keep it to himself. Wearily, he offered Simon as solid a smile as he could, and rested his head back on the table. He was so tired... "If you want to talk about it, I'll listen. But if you want to keep it to yourself...well, I can definitely understand that."
Simon glanced back at Cloud, studying his expression and the position of his body. It only took a moment to make his decision. "I'll tell you anything you want to know," he offered softly, brow furrowing, "But right now you should be resting. You look exhausted, and I won't let you force yourself for my sake."
Cloud searched his expression, and pursed his lips, brow furrowing sadly. Did he remember...? "...Simon, what...do you remember from being here in Luceti...?"
That was about as transparent a question as Simon had ever heard. He paused a moment, considering his options, and replied, "It's all coming back to me in pieces, bit by bit. But... I remember everything about you."
And if he was interpreting the look on Cloud's face right, he... was almost at the end of his time.
Well...it was a relief and not at the same time. This way, he wouldn't have to tell Simon again...but it was still a hard expression to see on a loved one's face, even if it was older than he remembered it being. At least this Simon appeared to be taking it better than his child version, not that it was a surprise. Cloud closed his eyes and sighed through his nose before nodding slightly, pressing his palm against the table and struggling to stand. He felt a weight settle in his stomach when he found he couldn't; his legs shook and wouldn't support his weight.
Simon was on his feet immediately, grasping Cloud's arm and gently easing it over his shoulders once more, hefting the man to his feet. "There we go," he mumbled, smiling again, though it was a bit strained. "You're still alive now, so let's try to keep that true for as long as we can, okay? That means you have to let me take care of you this time."
Cloud hated to be a downer -much to everyone's surprise, he was sure- but time had turned him pessimistic over optimistic, and he didn't want Simon to believe something that wasn't going to come true. He let his head rest against Simon's shoulder as they started down the hallway to the bedroom -guest, probably, since Zack was in his bed. "Simon, I'm tired. I...don't want to drag out the inevitable."
Simon frowned, not liking that fatalistic attitude, even if they both knew it was the truth. It didn't mean he had to like it.
"You promised you'd come back," he murmured, leading them down the hall and guiding Cloud into his room, guiding him towards the bed. "I... hope I'm still here when you do."
"I will come back," Cloud told him firmly, and he toed off his boots as he slid into the bed, looking up at Simon with a tired but determined expression. "And...you'll be here when I come back. I'll hurry." He offered a smile, reaching out and giving Simon's hand a quick squeeze before setting his hand on his stomach, above the covers.
"You'd better," Simon managed, expression pained, but dammit he would hold on to that smile for as long as he could. "I'll come looking for you if you don't, and you really don't want me to be the one to find you then!" He grinned, the expression a bit cheeky, and lifted a fist. "I'm not afraid to use a good punch as a life lesson, even to you."
Giving a snort, Cloud lets his head rest on the pillow and he closes his eyes; a nap sounds really good. "I wouldn't put it past you, now that you've got the height advantage."
Cloud was looking more and more tired as time passed, so Simon softened his voice, pulling up a chair to sit beside the bed. "No matter how big or old I am, you'll always be Papa. I promise."
Cloud snorted again, although it was softer and more affectionate. He turned his head to murmur to Simon, although he didn't open his eyes. "I'm younger than you now...admittedly, it's a little weird, but you're still Simon so it's not that weird." He laughed softly.
Simon reached out, brushing a hand through Cloud's hair soothingly, just as Cloud used to do for him. "I get the feeling things will be kind of weird for a while," he mused, "But maybe that's okay. Maybe a bit of weirdness is just what we need." It certainly had helped today - he'd been able to protect Cloud and Zack from death, and he himself had been able to reunite with people he'd never imagined seeing again.
Shifting slightly into the touch, Cloud sighs; sleep tugs at the corner of his mind, but for some reason he feels the urge to fend it off and does so, opening his eyes a fraction to look up at Simon. "...things got hard for you again, didn't they?"
Simon hesitated, not wanting to stress Cloud out too badly. But it wasn't something he could easily hide, either - he knew he looked tired, and the way he dressed was a dead giveaway that he hadn't settled anywhere. Not to mention the eyepatch, and he was wary of diving into that one any time soon.
"A little bit," he admitted, smiling like he meant it. "Things happen. But it's more important to just keep going with it, no matter what."
"It's okay to rely on other people," Cloud murmurs, gaze dropping from Simon's face momentarily before lifting back up, sincere. "You don't always have to do everything alone."
Simon shook his head, giving Cloud's hand a little pat. "Sometimes you don't have a choice. When people rely on you to help them... or when the ones who want to help you are gone..." He stopped himself there, and let his smile fade, looking away for a moment. "Anyway, what's past is past."
Cloud's expression fell, and his lips pursed as his eyes closed. "You're right, probably. ...you'd probably know better than me, at this point." It was strange. He was so accustomed to feeding Simon his own ideals -or rather, the ideals of other people he'd adopted as his own- that hearing Simon refute something he'd said was almost like a rejection. It stung a little, even though he knew Simon's situations differed from his own, and it struck him that while he was still "papa," he couldn't be "papa" right now.
Simon caught his expression, lips pursing, then leaned down to rest his chin on his arms on the bed, his own expression a bit wistful. "I knew someone who'd hit me for being such a downer. He'd tell me to believe in him, or believe in myself, or even to believe in you. He's the reason I kept fighting... the reason I couldn't afford to lose. I always wanted to be like him." He shook his head, nostalgic now. "The same way I wanted to be like you, when I was here. I probably don't know better than you... I just deal with things differently, I guess. It's... who I've become."
"Mm," Cloud hummed, nodding slightly, and automatically -without him even realizing it- his hand lit atop Simon's head, stroking his hair. "I know the feeling. You push and push and...try to be like the person you look up to, but end up not quite making it." He sighed, eyes still closed, and his hand moved sluggishly atop Simon's head. "I'm not at that 'accepting yourself' part yet that you sound like you've reached, but I'm sure I'll get there someday." He allowed himself a tired chuckle. "I was so sure I was screwing you up somehow."
Simon shared the chuckle, shaking his head, leaning into the touch and letting his eye close for a moment, enjoying the fatherly motion after so long. "You did nothing wrong. The months I spent here were some of the happiest I've ever experienced."
"Good." Cloud smiled faintly, even as his fingers lingered on Simon's hair before trailing vaguely off the side of his face. "I was hoping I'd..." He trails off, losing his train of thought, appearing to doze off, breathing light.
Simon opened his eyes and watched him for a long moment, lips pursed, expression pained and visibly grieving already. He really had no time left, did he...
He lifted himself up, giving Cloud's hair one last gentle stroke, and returned to his chair to watch over him. "You did," he murmured, smiling almost peacefully, though inside he felt anything but. "You really did."
Rousing himself slightly, Cloud blinked sleepily up at Simon before his head fell to the side, eyes closing again. "Love you, kiddo."
Simon swallowed hard. "L... love you, Papa."
Really, there was nothing else he could have said.
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When she read the message, her blood ran cold and she dropped the journal. Sephiroth... Cloud was going to fight him and help Zack. Lowering her eyes, she looked at her fists for a moment and then shook her head. She'd be of no help to him. The fire that had driven her in the fight two years ago was gone... she had said it herself on board the Shera, Cloud was the only one who had found that strength again. And he was the only one strong enough the take on Sephiroth. Even with Geostigma.
And so she waited. She waited until she heard the door open again, and the sound of voices filtered through the halls. Cloud was back, along with someone else. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. She went to check on who was home and in the process saw Cloud, Zack, and a blue haired man that she finally found out to be Simon. Only he was older... just like Denzel.
She gave the men some time, waiting as Simon lead Cloud to his room. She didn't want to barge in on them during their talk. It seemed like it was something just between the two of them. But a little while later, Simon told her he was going to give her some time alone with Cloud. As he left the room, Tifa went inside, her hands clasped in front of her as she went over to his bed.
She pulled up a chair and sat down, gazing down at the blond in front of her. Gently, she reached out and touched his cheek, stroking hair back from his face. "Cloud?" she whispered lightly, trying to see if he would respond or not.
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Well, the idea wasn't as scary as it had been a few months ago.
Faintly aware of the shifting presence beside him and the smell of well-oiled leather, whiskey and the underlying scent of women's floral soaps, Cloud knew that Tifa had come. Immediately a stone of guilt dropped down into his gut when he realized he'd left without so much as a word to her, and when her calloused fingers touched his face and stroked his hair, he made the effort to turn his head and blink up at her. "Sorry..." he offered in a whisper, and shifted his arm. His muscles wouldn't obey; he didn't have the strength to lift his hand to cover hers, but he knew she would be able to tell just by looking at him. She could always do that; read him like an open book, even when nobody else could.
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Eventually she opened her mouth and said, "Cloud... I..." but she didn't know where to go from there. What was she supposed to tell him here and now? What could she say that wouldn't sound silly or painful? Her voice cracked and she lowered her head, trying to hide the glistening in her eyes.
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He was such a child.
Furrowing his brow in frustration and anger, Cloud dredged up the will to move his hand and set it on her arm, letting himself rest once he had a steady enough grip so that his fingers wouldn't slip off. His vision was blurry, but he could still make out her hair, the shape of her eyes. The way her shoulders sloped gracefully, the curve of her back. She was beautiful. "I love you," he murmured, almost automatically. Then he remembered that this wasn't the same Tifa from before; she had forgotten all that had happened here in Luceti, and he winced, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see her expression.
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"You... you do?" she asked, making sure she had heard him correctly. Her heart was going a mile a minute as she waited for him to answer her. She barely breathed, but hell if she noticed.
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Silly girl. "Yeah." That was all it would take; he faintly rubbed his fingers against her arm.
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"I love you too." It was so simple to say. Why had it been so difficult to get out before? Probably because then, she hadn't known his answer. But now... now she knew everything would be okay. No matter what.
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It took her a few seconds to answer. She swallowed, and then gave Cloud the most loving smile she could muster. "Yes. That sounds... wonderful." She reached over and gave his hand a light squeeze. "I'll be right here when you come home."
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Although, it didn't hurt, as the reports said it would. For that, Cloud was grateful.
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After a little while, he decided to go and check on his parents. Knocking gently on the door, he clicked it open and poked his head inside, "Mom... dad? I'm coming in okay?" He saw the back of Tifa's head and she nodded, so he walked inside. He kneeled down beside the bed and gently put a hand on Cloud's shoulder. "Hey dad. It's me... Denzel."
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He was rambling, losing track of his thoughts. Licking his lips, Cloud attempted speech again and was pleased to find himself still capable...although the words came out more as a breath than a whisper. He was so tired. "Denzel...you grew up good..."
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"Yeah, all thanks to you guys," Denzel replied softly, a small laugh ending his sentence. "But you don't have to talk anymore, just rest. We'll be right here with you."
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Denzel swallowed, finally finding his voice again, "And... I love you dad."
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