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Final Fantasy VII: Angelic Threnody	By : DarkSeraphim1 Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1315 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core, Before Crisis, or Dirge of Cerberus. I do not profit from the writing and/or posting of this fic. I am just a humble fan paying tribute to another's wonderful creations.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Chapter Fifteen
       ‘Ripples form on the water's surface, the wandering soul knows no rest.’ -Loveless, ACT I
            Cloud leaned back against the damp wall, sighing quietly as he contemplated what he had just heard. “Are you sure you want to do this?“ he asked at length, lifting bright blue eyes to the room’s only other occupant.
            “Yes.” Sephiroth was resolute as he stood stiffly beside a row of lockers, ignoring the unpleasant aroma of soap, mildew, and dirty laundry that seemed to permeate the locker room as he waited for Strife’s answer. “It is best to begin now, before anything. . .untoward occurs.”
            Cloud looked down for a moment, his feline features distorting as he frowned. “What makes you think that Hollander will be any better than Hojo?”
            Sephiroth shrugged at that, the gesture unconsciously elegant. “Neither Angeal nor Genesis have ever complained of his methods. Also, I have been told-- repeatedly--that Hojo’s methods are cruel, sadistic, and,” he smiled faintly here, “complete bullshit.”
            Cloud blinked, sure that this was the first time he had ever heard Sephiroth curse. “And you’re sure he’ll go for this?”
            The smile changed, taking on a cynical edge that couldn’t be missed. “Oh, I’m quite certain Dr. Hollander will jump at the opportunity to study his rival’s greatest creation,” he answered mockingly. “I doubt we need worry on that point.”
            The younger man hid a cringe at that. He had always wondered how Sephiroth felt about growing up in a laboratory with an immoral scientist as his only parental figure. Now, he knew. “Okay,” he said, pushing away from the wall and glancing around the shower room. Luckily, they hadn’t been disturbed, but there were no cameras here, so it gave them more privacy than they would have had anywhere else in the building. “I’ll go to Hollander and set up a meeting. Where do you want to meet him?”
            “I would prefer my quarters, as there are no security cameras on the 70th floor, but Hollander’s laboratory would be the ideal place.” Sephiroth shrugged again, crossing his arms over his chest in a habitual gesture. “He will need to be assured of my sincerity, which will require giving him genetic samples. I am sure there will be tests he’ll wish to run, as well.”
            A slight grimace accompanied those muttered words. Cloud could only sigh in empathy. He wasn’t fond of laboratories anymore, either. “We really need to knock out the cameras, then,” he said, looking down as he thought of their nearly non-existent options.
            Sephiroth nodded in agreement. “I have already tried to disable them, but Shinra’s security system has proven surprisingly resistant to my skills. I have come close to being detected twice now. Would you have any skills that could help in this enterprise?”
            “Uh, no, I’m not a hacker.” Cloud hesitated, running a hand through his spiky blond hair, and hoped that he wasn’t about to make a mistake. “Look, you noticed how much attention Reno was paying to me at Zack’s party, right?”
            “Indeed.” Sephiroth couldn’t suppress a smile at the memory of the intoxicated Turk’s repeated attempts to lure Strife back to his room two nights ago. “I cannot say that I was. . .surprised by his persistence. Reno has never been one to give up easily.”
            Cloud silently cursed his fair complexion as he felt a blush creep into his cheeks. “Reno wasn’t hitting on me,” he mumbled with obvious embarrassment. “I mean, he was, but he wasn’t.”
            Sephiroth raised one silver brow, silently communicating his disbelief, and Cloud shook his head. “Look, Reno wasn’t nearly as drunk as he looked. I found that out as soon as you and Genesis left the mess.”
            Pale green eyes narrowed on his sharply. “What do you mean?” he demanded coldly.
            “Kadaj.” Cloud lifted his head and met those icy green eyes. “He looked at me with a really serious expression, and he said, ’Kadaj’. He remembers, Sephiroth. He remembers everything.”
            Sephiroth scowled with displeasure. “Why would the Ancient send him back?” he snapped, his agile mind already planning ways to rid himself of the potential problem.
            Cloud lifted one slim shoulder in a half-shrug, one black pauldron of his 2nd Class uniform rising and falling with the motion. “Maybe, because she knew that we’d need him.” The other man scoffed, and Cloud held up a hand to silence him. “Not only is Reno a whiz with computers, but he and Rufus. . .well, let’s just say that they’re close, and leave it at that.”
            This time, it was Sephiroth who blinked as he processed that previously unknown information. “I had always thought that Rufus was. . .involved with Tseng,” he said as discreetly as possible.
            “Yeah, me too.” Cloud smiled crookedly. “Shows what we know, huh?”
            “Indeed.” Sephiroth shook his head, sending long silver strands falling into his face. “Is it safe to assume that you would like to recruit him for our ‘mission’?”
            Cloud barely refrained from rolling his eyes at the unnecessary question. “I think that Reno’s a part of this whether we want him to be or not.”
            Sephiroth sighed heavily and tucked his hair back behind his ears. He had never trusted the Turks, who were not only SOLDIER’s direct rivals, but had looked the other way as Hojo had tortured him as a child. To be forced to rely on one was. . .distasteful, to say the least.
            “Very well,” he said at length, adding, “Be sure he understands exactly what is at stake here. He may have survived last time, but were he to betray us, I can assure you that he would not do so a second time. Contact me once you have spoken to Hollander. I will be waiting for your call.”
            Cloud watched with consternation as his supposedly reformed nemesis turned on his heel and walked away with the dignified hauteur that one would expect of a king, not a soldier. Sephiroth might not be insane anymore, but he was still an asshole. Cloud dug his shiny new PHS out of his pocket--compliments of Sephiroth--and grimaced at the bright yellow Chocobo which danced across the small screen. Yeah, definitely an asshole, he thought as he dialed Reno’s number.
            “Yo.”
            “It’s me,” he said without preamble. “I talked to Sephiroth. You’re in.”
            “Of course, I am,” the young Turk responded lazily. “His Royal Hotness couldn’t do this without me, yo.”
            Cloud grimaced at the nickname Zack and Reno had given Sephiroth all those years ago. “Do you have to call him that?”
            “You’re kidding, right? You do remember who your little Kadaj looked like, don’t you?” Reno paused, and Cloud could picture his grin as he added, “There’s a reason I called him Baby Sephiroth, yo.”
            “Gods,” Cloud groaned, dropping his head into his hand. “Give it a rest, Reno. We’ve got a job to do here.”
            A snort sounded over the line. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Save your boyfriend, save Sephiroth’s boyfriend, save the world. I got it, yo.”
            Cloud just sighed and let it go. “Look, I’ve got a class in a few minutes, but I’ve got a free period after lunch. I’ve got to go down to Hollander’s lab and set up a meeting for Sephiroth, but we’ll need to disable to cameras while I’m there, and again during the meeting. Maybe, program them to go offline on a time-delay. You can do that, right?”
            “Oh, hell ya, Chocobo Boy,” Reno declared enthusiastically. “I’ll meet you in the library at thirteen-thirty.”
            “The library?” Cloud questioned, surprised by the choice. “Do you even know where the library is, Reno?”
            “Bite me, yo. I’ve got an in with the lady behind the counter. She’s crazy about redheads, yo.”
            “Yeah, sure she is.” Cloud sighed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I’ll see you then. Be careful, Reno.”
            “You too, Strife. I sure as hell don’t want to see you and Fair end up in Hojo’s hands, again.”
            “Reno. . .thanks.”
            “Later, yo. I’ve got a date with a hot blond.”
            Cloud grimaced as the line went dead, wondering if the "hot blond" was Rufus, and hoping he’d never find out.
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            “Can I help you?”
            Cloud smiled with a nervousness that wasn’t entirely feigned as he looked at a pretty young woman in a white lab coat. “I’m looking for Dr. Hollander,” he told her, hoping his too young features and bright blue eyes were as endearing as Tifa had always told him they were. “I’ve got a message for him from General Rhapsodos?”
            “Of course.” The young intern patted her dark hair as she added, “Follow me, Private. . .?”
            “Strife,” Cloud supplied promptly, hoping that this wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass. “Lieutenant Strife, 2nd Class.”
            “Really?” She perked up upon hearing that, and Cloud fought the urge to blush as she looked him up and down. “I’m Tina. Nice to meet you, Lieutenant.”
            He returned her smile, knowing that it wasn’t reflected in his eyes, and praying that she wouldn’t notice. “Nice to meet you, too, Tina.”
            Cloud waited until she turned away to let out a silent breath of relief. She was pretty enough, and he’d never much cared about the sex of his partners, but he definitely wasn’t interested. Aerith and Vincent had taught him to appreciate the beauty of both sexes, but it was Kadaj who had taught him what exactly what love was. One night, he thought bitterly. One single fucking night was all they’d had before he learned the truth, and it had changed him forever. If only it had been the same for Kadaj, as well.
            “Here we are.” He was pulled out of his reverie as Tina gestured towards an older man wearing a similar white coat. “Dr. Hollander, Lieutenant Strife has a message for you from General Rhapsodos.”
            “Thank you, Tina.”
Cloud was surprised at the deep, gravelly voice which emanated from the middle-aged scientist as Hollander turned to face him.
            ‘Very good, Angeal! It is time to extract vengeance for our family's suffering! ’
            Cloud blinked as the older man asked, “You have a message for me, young man?”
            He nodded even as another voice echoed through his mind. ‘No! My father is dead!’
            “I was told to give this to you in private, Doctor.”
            Deep-set brown eyes flicked over him, lingering on the multiple blades whose hilts stuck out of First Tsurugi’s harness on either side of him, before Hollander finally nodded. “Come into my office,” he said as he turned away. “We can talk there.”
            Damn it, Zack, Cloud cursed silently, this isn’t the time for that! He forced the auditory memories--compliments of the small piece of Zack he had absorbed as he lay dying outside of Midgar--to the back of his mind as he followed the man into another room. He still wasn’t sure how much of what he experienced were his own memories or his dead friend’s, but it didn’t really matter anymore. They were a part of him, just like the Jenova cells that had made the intimate theft possible in the first place. Regardless of how or why, they were there, and they always would be. It was something he had come to terms with long ago.
            Cloud entered Dr. Hollander’s office and was surprised to see several potted plants placed at strategic points around the room. The only other people he’d ever known who could grow anything in Midgar were Aerith and--according to Zack--his mentor, Angeal Hewley.
            He very carefully closed the door behind him and turned to face Hojo’s fiercest competitor. “My message is very private, Doctor. I’m afraid that I’ve had to disable the security cameras for the duration of my time here.”
            Hollander frowned at that. “Now, see here, son--”
            Cloud cut him off. “I do have a message for you, Dr. Hollander, but it’s from Sephiroth, not Genesis.”
            The older man eyed him a little more warily than he had before. “S-Sephiroth?” he exclaimed, that deep voice wavering slightly. “What does Sephiroth want with me?”
            Cloud only sighed as he reached into his weapon’s belt and withdrew a single piece of paper. “He would like to meet with you, Doctor.” He extended his hand, the note held out between them. “If you’ll read this, it will explain everything.”
            Hollander looked at the folded paper in his hand with equal parts of interest and fear. “Who are you and why are you here?”
            Gods, but the man was stubborn, Cloud thought angrily. “I am a. . .friend of the General’s,” he said at last. “That’s all you need to know.”
            “Oh, fine, fine.” Hollander reached out and snatched the paper out of his hand as his curiosity got the better of him. He read it silently, those dark eyes widening dramatically as he finally looked up. “Is this for real?”
            Cloud couldn’t completely conceal his disgust as he nodded an affirmative. “Yes, Doctor,” he answered simply.
            “How do I know that Hojo didn’t set this up?” Hollander asked suspiciously. “It would be just like him to try to discredit me like this.”
            Cloud leveled grave blue eyes on him. “Do you honestly believe that Sephiroth would involve himself in something like that?”
            The older man hesitated before finally shaking his head. “No, Sephiroth has always been. . .kind to me.”
            A knowing smile curved Cloud’s lips at that. ‘Kind’ wasn’t a word he had ever heard used to describe Sephiroth, even before his brush with insanity, but he thought that he knew what Hollander meant. “Sephiroth is friends with your two charges, Dr. Hollander. He would never do anything to harm them. I’m sure you know that by now,” he added for good measure, hoping that he was right.
            Hollander smiled a little at that. “Yes, the boys have always been close, ever since they first met ten years ago.”
            “Then, if nothing else, you should know that you can trust him not to harm you, because he would be hurting them by extension.”
            “Yes,” Hollander agreed, a wide smile forming on his lined face, and Cloud couldn’t tell if he was really motivated by love for Genesis and Angeal, or eagerness at the thought of studying Sephiroth himself. He hoped, for Sephiroth’s sake, that it wasn’t the latter. Hollander would probably end up dead, otherwise, and they really did need him.
            “Well, Doctor?” he asked softly. “What should I tell the General?”
            “Tell him to meet here at twenty-two-hundred,” Hollander answered firmly. “I’ll see him, them.”
            “Thank you, Dr. Hollander. I’ll let him know.”
            Cloud slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him, and did his best not to run as he left the lab. He had to meet Zack for a sparring session, and he didn’t want to be late. It had been too long since he and Zack had crossed swords, and never as equals, and to say that he was looking forward to it would be a gross understatement.
            As he took the elevator back to the SOLDIER floor, he took his phone out of his pocket and dialed Sephiroth’s number. As soon as he heard that telltale click, he began to speak. “Tonight, twenty-two-hundred, his office.”
            There was a quiet, nearly inaudible sigh on the other end. “Excellent. You’ve done well, Cloud.”
            “Uh, thanks.” Cloud hesitated, remembering Zack’s tales about Sephiroth’s extreme disorientation after his sessions with Hojo, and added, “If you need any help tonight, call me.”
            Silence greeted his words, and Cloud knew that he had overstepped his bounds. “Sorry,” he muttered uncomfortably. “I, uh, I’d better go. I have a training session with Zack in a few minutes.”
            “Ah. Enjoy yourself, then. And Strife?”
            “Yeah?”
            “Thank you. I. . .appreciate the concern.”
            The dial tone sounded in his ear, and Cloud wouldn’t have been more surprised if the PHS had exploded in hand. Sephiroth had. . .thanked him?
            The elevator doors opened, and he shook himself, closing the phone and tucking it away. He left the glass and steel tube, grateful that his enhancements had taken care of his motion-sickness, if nothing else. The elevator ride had always made him nauseous as hell.
            “Hey, Spike!”
            He saw Zack halt in mid-squat and smiled fondly. “Hey, Zack,” he greeted, forcing himself to remain still as the other boy stood and immediately plunged a hand into his thick blond spikes. “Do me a favor, Zack? Leave me some hair on my scalp, alright?”
            Zack merely grinned and hooked one arm around his neck, pulling close for a stranglehold of a hug. “My little Chocobo,” he crooned, laughing when Cloud began to struggle in earnest. He wrestled with his new apprentice for a few moments before finally backing away, his grin widening as the other boy’s hands immediately went to his hair. “Are you ready, kid?”
            Cloud nodded and lowered his hand to First Tsurugi’s main blade, his expression turning solemn, as it so often did. “I’m ready, Zack.”
            Zack looked at the bizarre weapon’s ensemble and whistled slowly. “Where the hell did you get a sword like that, kid?”
            “Sephiroth,” Cloud lied with no hesitation. “It’s called First Tsurugi.”
            “First Sword, huh?” Zack only nodded, damned glad that Sephiroth had found this kid, who was fast becoming one his closest friends. “How many pieces does it have?”
            “Six.” Seeing his interest, Cloud drew the main blade and explained, “This one opens,” he flicked his wrist, and the blade split apart, revealing the serrated design that ran down the center, “and increases its size and range. The other five blades can each be used separately, or connected to make one larger sword.”
            Zack shifted closer, running one gloved hand very carefully down one side of the double-bladed sword. “It’s only got one materia slot,” he pointed out.
            Cloud smiled at that. “If it’s the right materia, that’s all you need.”
            “True.” The other boy laughed as he withdrew, drawing the Jr. Buster from his back and gesturing towards the VR Room. “Ready to give it a go, Spike?”
            That spiky blond head bobbed, and Zack couldn’t help but reach out to muss it. “Time for your first real lesson, Cloud. Don’t worry,” the other boy added as the VR door slid open, “I won’t go too hard on you—yet.”
            “I’m not worried,” Cloud told him solemnly. “I know you’d never hurt me.”
            “Damned straight,” Zack said with a firm nod and another grin. “Now, where would you like to go?”
            He thought of all the places he had been over the past eight years and shrugged. “You choose,” he said, smiling fondly as the other boy faced the control room window and yelled, “Gongaga, please!” with obvious enthusiasm.
            Cloud laughed at that, remembering their first conversation, and Zack’s answering grin suggested that he’d chosen his hometown for that very reason. The virtual reality chamber began to change around them, and in a matter of moments they were in the forests that surrounded Zack’s native village of Gongaga. The humid, nearly tropical climate was apparent in the wave of heat that engulfed them, as well as the mist that wound itself lovingly around their legs, and the simple cone-shaped buildings in the distance. It was even more beautiful than Cloud remembered because the mako reactor hadn’t yet been destroyed, and the town was still whole.
            The older boy smiled as he turned around once, sighing with just a hint of nostalgia. “So, what do you think of Gongaga?” he asked proudly.
            “It’s beautiful, Zack,” he answered truthfully, mentally adding, ‘It always was’.
            “Not quite as backwater as you thought, huh?”
            “No,” Cloud responded with a chuckle, “it definitely beats the hell out of Nibelheim.”
            “Really?” Zack considered that, his expression brightening. “Hey, we could spar there, if you’d rather--”
            “No,” Cloud cut in quickly, too quickly to be casual. “Gongaga is fine with me.”
            Zack studied him for a long, tense moment. “Am I sensing some issues here, Spike?” he asked with concern.
            Cloud looked away, forcing memories of fire, torture, and mako from his mind. “A few,” he murmured at last. He raised his head and managed a crooked smile. “Let’s just stick with your hometown, okay?”
            “You’ve got it, man.” Zack held the Jr. Buster before him at an angle, his expression turning cocky. “Alright, Cloud, let’s see what you can do.”
            Gaia’s former champion extended his right arm and turned First Tsurugi so that it reflected a stray shaft of simulated sunlight, turning the sword’s edge to a bright, gleaming gold. “Bring it on, Pup.”
            Zack burst out laughing even as he said, “Oh, you are so going to pay for that, Spike!”
            Cloud smiled, a reckless smile that was rare, and a warning in itself, and launched himself at the other boy. Zack met him halfway, looking delighted as the Jr. Buster meeting First Tsurugi in a shower of sparks. Their shared laughter rang happily through the VR room, echoing dreams that had died in the most violent of ways, and changing the fate of The Planet forever.
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             Sephiroth stood outside the door to Hollander's laboratory, hesitating uncharacteristically as he reached for the buzzer. Once he did this, there would be no going back. He was gambling not only on Hollander's capacity for mercy, but on his integrity as a scientist. He ignored the cynical part of his mind, which reminded him that such men had no integrity, and concentrated on the hope that this second chance had awakened within him. Yes, there was a very real possibility that Hollander would simply use him as Hojo had, but Sephiroth had learned the hard way that you could not receive trust if you did not first give it of yourself.
           This was the only way, Sephiroth reminded himself sternly. If he did not give himself to Hollander, Genesis and Angeal would never be cured. Even supposing that he somehow managed to alter the course of past events, the degradation would eventually make itself known, and he needed to prepare for that, regardless of his own personal demons.
            He closed his eyes for a long moment, picturing Genesis in his mind as he had appeared that last, fateful night in the Nibelheim reactor. Graying patches of brittle skin had dotted his graceful swan neck, curling over the curve of his jaw in a path that, even then, Sephiroth had longed to follow with his lips. His fiery auburn hair had been streaked with ashen ribbons, the eyes that had once rivaled the sky in their precious azure hue had faded, their rich glow gone as if it had never been. That smooth, beloved voice had wavered weakly as he'd spewed his madness-laden truths, and Sephiroth had grieved to see him thus. Even as Mother had entered his mind and persuaded him to close his heart to his dying lover's pleas, he had grieved. For himself, for Angeal, but most of all for Genesis, whose madness had tainted all he loved until all but he were destroyed by it.
            "No," his whispered to himself, forcing the tide of painful memories aside. This time would be different. He was different, and he couldn't allow his fears to weaken his resolve. He would save Genesis, and he would save all of the others in the process. There was simply no other alternative.
            Keeping that thought firmly in the forefront of his mind, he raised his gloved hand and pressed the small button that would announce his presence within the locked laboratory. He waited patiently as Hollander's rather heavy tread came to his mako-enhanced ears, a slight hesitance in the pattern suggesting nervousness as he approached the other side of the door. Sephiroth couldn't blame him for his fear; even those who had no knowledge of Sephiroth's origins feared him. He could only imagine how much worse it must be for Hollander, who knew full well how he had been created, and exactly what mometic legacy he carried.
            There was a series of quiet beeps, and the door swished open to reveal the portly figure of Dr. Hollander. "Sephiroth," he greeted warily. His dark eyes darted to either side of Sephiroth's head as he searched the corridor behind him, and Sephiroth merely stood there and waited for him to appease his fears. While he might not view honor as Angeal did, in black-and-white absolutes, he followed his own personal code. Hollander would live, provided that he did not betray him. Hojo, on the other hand. . .
            Satisfied at last, Hollander stepped away from the doorway, and Sephiroth hid the sudden, cruel smile that last thought had conjured as the scientist cast him a guarded look. "Come in," he said, gesturing towards a plain wooden door on the far side of room. "We can talk more comfortably in my office."
            "As you wish," Sephiroth murmured, taking a chance and leaving the other man at his back as he strode through the lab. He ignored pristine equipment and the medical beds with their padded restraints, reminding himself that Hollander was not Hojo, and that he was not the helpless child he had once been.
           He came to the plain wooden door, which bore a simple metal nameplate bearing Hollander's name, and pushed the door open. Mako-green eyes quickly scanned his surroundings, cataloguing everything in a matter of seconds. He found the plants particularly interesting, as this was one of the few habits that Angeal shared with his biological father. Perhaps, there was something to the notion that personality traits were passed down genetically from parent to child.
            Something to ponder later, he told himself. He took a seat in one of two low-backed chairs that sat at an angle facing Hollander's rather cluttered desk. He kept his expression neutral as Hollander seated himself behind the rather unattractive metal contraption, waiting until the other man met his gaze to speak.
            "Let me be frank, Doctor. I am concerned about Genesis and Angeal, and I have come to speak to you regarding that concern."
            Hollander's frowned. "Why would you be concerned about them?" he asked with surprise. "I can assure you that Angeal and Genesis are in perfect health."
            Sephiroth sighed silently. Subtlety had never been his forte, and when it came to his friends' well-being, he couldn't afford it to be. "I know about the Jenova Project," he stated bluntly.
            The older man paled significantly upon hearing that. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," he stuttered unconvincingly.
            One silver brow quirked upwards as Sephiroth caught and held his gaze with his own. "Jenova Project 'G' used stagnant cells from the being designated Jenova on two unborn fetuses. Dr. Gast Faremis believed Jenova to be the remains of a two-thousand year-old Cetra. He was only partially right."
            Hollander blinked repeatedly before straightening in his seat. "What do you mean by 'partially'?" he demanded, his caution forgotten as he leaned forward. "Gast ran a multitude of tests, and each confirmed that Jenova was an Ancient."
            "If you will allow me to clarify, Doctor?" Sephiroth waited until the older man closed his mouth and nodded to attempt an explanation. "The body you found in the Northern crater was the remnant of an Ancient. However, it had come into contact with an entity that they knew only as The Calamity From The Skies. It was, in fact, an alien virus that ended the Cetra race. The virus was sentient, capable of infecting many at once, and of influencing their thoughts and behavior, as well as mutating its hosts physically."
           Sephiroth thought of the books that he had read in the basement of Shinra Mansion, and of what he had gleaned from Cloud Strife's mind during Meteorfall, and of the Ancient's very own words. "I believe that Jenova was the last of the infected Cetra, the sacrifice, so to speak, that the rest of the Ancients made to keep The Calamity from destroying The Planet. Unfortunately, it took all of their spirit energy to seal Jenova, until only a handful of Cetra remained. Ifalna Faremis, Dr. Gast's second wife, was a descendant of one of these survivors, as was her daughter, before their untimely deaths at Hojo's hands."
            Not quite the truth, as Ifalna had died seven years after Gast's murder, but close enough to it to serve Sephiroth's needs. And, if Hollander believed that Aerith Gainsborough-Faremis-was already dead, then he would have no reason to hunt the girl once Hojo had been disposed of. "As for Genesis, Angeal, and I," he continued calmly, "we also carry the remnants of that virus within our bodies. While you used static cells on Gillian Hewley, and on Genesis and Angeal as a consequence, Hojo took it a step further. He used active cells taken directly from Jenova's brain, and injected them into the unborn child which Lucrecia Crescent carried."
            Sephiroth met his gaze unflinchingly. "I am that child," He finished simply.
            Hollander stared at him for a moment before releasing a deep sigh. "How did you find out?" he asked heavily. "None of you were ever supposed to know about the project."
           "Does it matter?" Sephiroth questioned in a quiet voice. "I am here because I believe that I may carry the last of the Cetra bloodline in my veins, and that my cells may be all that stand between my closest friends and death."
            "But there's nothing wrong with Angeal or Genesis," Hollander protested. "I test them myself on a regular basis. I've seen no signs of this virus you speak of, Sephiroth. I assure, I would have already taken action if I had."
            Sephiroth only shook his head, concealing his anger at the scientist's arrogant ignorance. "Their very genetic structures are flawed, Doctor. Their human mothers were not mometically strong enough to overcome the abnormality that the dead cells are even now creating within them. The virus is a part of them, Dr. Hollander. I doubt that you would be able to find, let alone isolate, the virus from their human and Cetra cells."
            "Yes, that would be. . .difficult," the other man allowed.
            "Indeed. The inert cells that you used to create Genesis and Angeal are degrading," he stated flatly, ignoring the older man's startled expression. "It will be years before Angeal shows any signs of it, if at all, but for Genesis, the process has already begun. Should he suffer an injury-even a relatively minor one-those cells will respond by absorbing the healthy ones which make up his human half. As with the Cetra so long ago, both his mind and his body will be affected, mutation and madness occurring in a very short period of time. This is what I wish to prevent, Doctor Hollander."
            Hollander was frowning at him, the look in his brown eyes a mixture of suspicion and fear, and Sephiroth smiled coolly in response to them. "No, I have not been affected by the mental instability that has been predicted," he lied smoothly, "but there have been certain. . .physical side-effects which have occurred."
            Those dark eyes moved over him, and Sephiroth had to suppress an irrational impulse to laugh. "You have seen Jenova for yourself, yes?" he asked instead.
            A terse, "Yes," was his only response.
            "Then, you have seen the mutations of which I speak. My eyes, for example." Sephiroth stood as he spoke, making a vague gesture with one gloved hand. "The color of my hair is another trait I share with Jenova, as is my high resistance to magic."
            "All of which have been duly noted by Hojo in his reports to the Board," Hollander snapped with the first signs of impatience, "and can be explained by the high mako doses you've received over the years. You're not telling me anything I don't already know, Sephiroth. Certainly, nothing that I can't counter with science."
            Sephiroth moved to an open portion of the room, cringing inwardly at what he was about to do. "Shall I show you something that not even Hojo has been made privy to?" he asked in a deceptively soft voice. "Something that will fly in the face of the science you and he put so much faith in? Will that help convince you of my sincerity?"
            The old man swallowed hard, his lined face paling, even as he nodded warily. Sephiroth drew a deep breath and lowered his head, gathering the courage to reveal the part of himself that marked him most singularly as Jenova's son. He lifted his right hand to his face, closing his eyes as he drew on his indomitable will, and willed his wing into existence.
            Hollander's surprised gasp told him of his success, and he lowered his arm without looking at the abominable appendage, which even now rained glossy black feathers all around him. "Do you see?" he questioned flatly. "Do you now believe that I am sincere in my desire to help my friends?"
            "Y-Yes!" Hollander gasped, his eyes wide with stunned amazement. He stood and came around the desk, his eyes not on Sephiroth, but on the accursed wing. "Can you feel it?" he asked abruptly, the scientist in him taking over as he reached for it.
            Sephiroth gazed down at him with veiled emerald eyes. "Yes, Doctor, I can feel it," he answered tonelessly. He felt Hollander's hand as it ran along the humerus bone, and couldn't prevent the defensive twitch which quickly lifted it out of his reach.
            "I must apologize," he said stiffly, forcing the appendage to remain still as the other man examined it. "I am not used being touched in such a manner."
            "Of course." Hollander gazed at the wing for a long moment, noting the thickness of its feathers, as well as the strength he had felt when it was pulled away from him, before raising his gaze to Sephiroth's once more. "I'll need to run some tests to gather data."
            Sephiroth only nodded. He had expected nothing less. "Providing that Hojo can be kept ignorant of this, I am more than willing to begin now, Doctor."
            Hollander frowned as he glanced at the plain digital watch that was strapped to his left wrist. "It's a little late to start a physical examination, now. Why don't I take a blood sample, and examine some of these feathers to start. We can schedule an appointment for a full physical once I've analyzed the results."
            "Very well." Sephiroth kept the relief out of his expression as he unbuckled his coat. "Where would you prefer me, Doctor."
            "In the main lab," Hollander said, gesturing for him to precede him. "Just sit on one of those cots and I'll be right with you."
            Sephiroth inhaled deeply as he approached the nearest bed. He removed his leather trench and draped it neatly over the end of the mattress, trying not to feel exposed as he sat gingerly on the bed's edge. He was doing this for Genesis, he reminded himself, ignoring the faint stirrings of panic as years of Hojo's 'treatments' flashed through his mind. Hollander might be a scientist, but he did not seem to be a particularly cruel man. He was overreacting to a fairly normal situation, and he needed to get his emotions under control before Hollander realized that he truly had not been spared the mental imbalance that was such an integral part of Jenova's legacy.
            Hollander returned with a BD Vacutainer set, consisting of a plastic hub, a hypodermic needle, and a vacuum tube. "Make a fist for me, son."
            Sephiroth blinked at the affectionate appellation, surprised both by it and the kind tone that the scientist used. Hojo had always called him 'boy', usually coupled with a disgusted sneer. Silently, he extended his arm and fisted his hand, watching with little interest as Hollander picked up a cotton swab and doused it with a clear liquid that smelled suspiciously like alcohol. He proceeded to swab the inside of his elbow, much to Sephiroth's consternation. Then, he inserted the needle into his median cubital vein. There was a slight sting, a bit of pressure as his blood was drawn into the tube, and then it was over.
             Hollander carefully set the sealed tube aside and once again swabbed swabbed the minuscule puncture wound that was already closing. "May I ask why you're doing that, Doctor?" he asked curiously.
            The older man looked up at him with surprise. "I'm cleaning the area so that it won't become infected," he answered, his tone suggesting that Sephiroth should already know this.
            "Ah." Sephiroth merely raised both brows as he pointed out, "I am immune to most common bacteria."
            "It's more a precaution than anything else, Sephiroth." Hollander frowned as he taped a small bandage over the spot. "Hasn't Hojo ever done this for after an injection?"
            Sephiroth shook his head negatively, scattering his overlong silver hair. "Not to my recollection, Doctor."
            Hollander paused as he took a closer look at his rival's superior creation. Sephiroth was gazing at him with those opaque, cat-slit green eyes, the expression in their vivid depths neither friendly nor unfriendly, more neutral than anything else. They also showed a sort of inquisitiveness that he would expect from a child, not a twenty-five-year-old man, and he wondered if maybe this almost childlike simplicity was what had drawn Angeal and Genesis to him all those years ago.
             "Well, he should have," he stated gruffly, turning away as he palmed the priceless vial of Sephiroth's blood. "You can put your coat back on, son. We're done for the time being."
             "Very well." Sephiroth stood and reached for his coat, relieved to feel the familiar leather hug his skin once more. "I assume you will contact me when you have run your tests?"
            "Yes," Hollander answered emphatically. "Would you like me to contact you directly, or should I go through the cadet you sent to me this afternoon?"
             Sephiroth hesitated only for a moment before answering. "I would prefer that you contact Lieutenant Strife. Hojo can be. . .ruthless when dealing with those he believes have betrayed him."

            Hollander nodded slowly, his dark eyes meeting Sephiroth's own with a boldness he wouldn't have thought himself capable of. "And the boys?" he asked finally.
            "Can never know." Sephiroth would never forget Genesis' coldness as they met in Mako Reactor 5. The jealous rage which had been carefully banked behind those fading azure eyes, his utter belief that, although he was a monster, he was meant for greater things. As it had turned out, he had been right, though not in a way any of them could have foreseen. As for Angeal. . .
            "No," Sephiroth murmured aloud. "It is best that they remain ignorant of this, Doctor. The mental instability that I have mentioned is to be avoided at all costs."
            "And, you'd rather they not know exactly what you are," the scientist guessed shrewdly.
            "There is that," Sephiroth acknowledged with a shrug. "It would lead to questions I'd rather not answer, and I would not like to lose the only two friends that I have."
            Hollander raised one dark, rather bushy brow at that. "I seriously doubt that ten years of friendship would be lost over something you have no control over."
            "Perhaps," he said neutrally, "but it is not a chance I am willing to take."
           "Very well, then. Angeal and Genesis will remain in the dark. But," the scientist added, "you should consider telling them. There's an old adage that says, 'A burden shared is a burden halved'. It could help to have someone to talk to about this."
            Sephiroth smiled suddenly and said, "Is that not what you are here for, Doctor?"
            Hollander chuckled at that, hiding his surprise as he discovered that Hojo's perfect, supposedly emotionless specimen had a surprisingly wry sense of humor.
            "You should get some rest, son. I'm sure you have to be up early."
            "Yes, I do." Sephiroth strode to the door and paused, half-turning as he said, "Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your kindness, as well as your discretion in this matter."
            The older man merely shook his head and waved him away, a smile still creasing his weathered face. Sephiroth inclined his head and let himself out, closing the door carefully behind him. It was done, and it hadn't been nearly as bad as he had expected. Of course, the truly intrusive tests were still to come, but Hollander had made the experience almost. . .pleasant. He could see why Genesis and Angeal spoke of the man with such fondness, if the pseudo parental concern he had displayed was any indication of his normal behavior.
            He stepped away from the door, only to be drawn up short, as Cloud Strife pushed away from the opposite wall. "What are you doing here?" he asked more harshly than he had intended.
             Cloud shrugged, those old eyes meeting his briefly before sliding away. "Zack used to tell me what you were like after you're appointments with Hojo," he answered quietly. "I thought you might need some help after this one."
             Sephiroth processed that with silent surprise. "Then, I must thank you once again," he said at last. "But as you can see, I am quite well, Cloud."
            "Yeah, I can see that, Sephiroth." Cloud studied him for a moment before shrugging once more. "Is Hollander willing to help us?"
             Us. Sephiroth nearly smiled at that. "He is going to help me search for a cure for the degradation process."
            "Using your cells," the younger man stated flatly.
            "Genesis once believed that the near-pure Jenova cells I carry within me were the answer to his condition," Sephiroth explained, though he couldn't have said why he was doing so. "I didn't help him then, and Nibelheim burned. I will do all that I can to help him, now."
            Bright blue eyes widened on his. "Genesis was in Nibelheim?"
            Sephiroth closed his eyes for a long moment, pushing back those painful, maddened memories. "It was he who revealed the truth of my birth to me. Between my own emotional difficulties and Mother's influence. . ." his voice trailed off as his eyes opened once more. "I turned him away, and in doing so, doomed us all. It was a lapse in judgment on my part, and it will not be repeated. Genesis must be saved, or all will be lost."
            Because he can save you, Cloud thought a touch of resentment, then forced himself to think past his own admittedly biased view. Sephiroth wanted to save the man he loved, which would save his own life in turn, but Cloud knew that there was more to it than that. There was Zack and Angeal, two of his best friends, who had died as a result of not only Genesis' madness, but of his own. He had died believing that Hojo was his father, while clinging to the desperate belief that Jenova was the mother he'd never had. He'd never been given the chance to meet Vincent, had never heard the stoic gunman's painfully fond remembrances of his real mother. Cloud didn't think that Sephiroth even knew how strongly he resembled Lucrecia Crescent, or just how many mannerisms he shared with his deadly but graceful Turk father.
            Sephiroth had lost his sanity and his life that night in Nibelheim, but he had lost himself long before that. Hojo-and Shinra-had robbed him of any chance he might have had to live a normal life, and they had lied to him while they did it. Cloud could understand why Sephiroth wanted to salvage whatever he could of his life, even if he couldn't let himself trust the other man's questionable hold on reality.
            "We'll save him," Cloud said at last, smiling faintly at his nemesis' wary yet hopeful look, "but not tonight. It's past curfew, and I need to get back to my room before the security cameras come back online. I'll call you if Reno and I find a way into Hojo's files."
            Sephiroth's lip curled at the reminder of their unwanted ally. "I am hesitant to place my faith in a Turk," he said with disdain. "Are you sure that we can trust him? After all, you were at odds with him in the past."
            Cloud snorted quietly. "I was 'at odds' with you, too," he pointed out dryly. "Look how that turned out."
             A dissatisfied grunt was the silver warrior's only response. "I will see you later, then. Goodnight, Strife."
            Cloud watched him walk away with a sour expression, then turned to and went the other way. The stairs were much safer than the elevator, and he didn't have to climb up sixty flights of them this time around. Small favors and all of that, he thought with a very Zack-like grin. He entered the stairwell and leapt up the first set, eager to return to his new quarters, for some much-needed sleep. Espionage took a lot out of you.
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Final Fantasy VII: Angelic Threnody