TROUBLED PAST

Cloud had kept a close eye on Tifa as he’d explained about his own motivation for bringing Sephiroth back and had seen a look of guilt flash on her face as he’d mentioned the labs. He knew she had a hard time trying to forget Hojo had ever had his hands on him, and that she hadn’t been there, hadn’t looked for him. They hadn’t been that far apart, really; Hojo had never moved him from Nibelheim, and the blond knew Tifa blamed herself for never searching through the mansion, where she’d known so much had already happened.

Too late now to spare her the memories.

Strangely, it was Yuffie who spoke up first, as Tifa, lost in thought, kept her eyes down and away from his gaze. The young ninja cleared her throat nervously and also avoided Cloud’s eyes. “So, like, what we saw on that disk Zack gave us… it was… totally awful, Cloud.” She shook her head and grimaced, looking up at him with something Cloud readily identified as pity in her eyes. “Did Hojo… When you… you were in Nibelheim, did Hojo ever…”, she trailed off, unable to finish. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my–”

“No.”

A sigh, then, from both Yuffie and Tifa who sat next to her. The ninja had obviously asked the one question Tifa would never dare ask, the one question she probably wanted an answer to first and foremost.

He looked back at Zack and, seeing nothing but encouragement there, continued. “It wasn’t the same, with me and Zack. We were just… broken toys to him; something to pass the time while Jenova regrouped. It was different with Sephiroth… I think Hojo wanted to break him early, so he would have a way to control him when he got older, and a lot stronger than him.”

“Shit.” Sitting across from the doorway next to Barrett, Cid pulled a dog-end from his ear and lit up, almost unconsciously. Yuffie turned in her seat and shot a dark look at him, which the gruff pilot pointedly ignored.

Tifa kept her eyes on Cloud now, and he shifted, uncomfortable under the warmth and guilt he felt there. Vincent, leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, looked up at Cid, then at Cloud. “Are you saying that the torture we saw eventually stopped?”

Cloud nodded. “Some of it, at least. I know for a fact that Hojo continued his experiments up until the point when Sephiroth was sent to Nibelheim. Zack can attest to that.” He stopped, and knew Zack was nodding behind him. “Most of it Hojo justified as required testing; he was trying to make the best Soldier ShinRa had ever seen, and some of those files actually show him counting the minutes it took for Sephiroth’s broken bones to knit back together.”

“I’m sorry, Cloud,” Tifa interrupted him softly, her eyes still glued to his face. “We didn’t watch all of it.”

Zack shot her a smile and a waved her concern away. “Can’t blame you, Tif.”

She nodded, then waited for the blond to go on.

Cloud had to force himself to breathe again, to ease the tension in his chest.

“I watched all of it, and it’s all pretty awful. If Hojo wasn’t already gone…” He sent a helpless look to Zack, which the older man returned. This is hell. Gods, never mind, this is worse than hell. I think I would’ve preferred a flaming row over this quiet talk. “We don’t know for sure about…” He stopped, took another deep breath, shook his head sadly. “We don’t know for how long Hojo kept him imprisoned and raped him. There are files spanning several years on that disk; they eventually dribble off, but that might just be because Hojo moved or erased his backups.”

A nervous laugh escaped him as he added: “The only way to know for sure will be to ask Sephiroth himself. You’re all welcome to the job if you want it.”

Vincent’s deep voice from the corner forced Cloud’s eyes to the man. “Perhaps it would be best if our knowledge of Hojo’s true research was kept secret. At least for a while.”

“You’re right, of course.” Cloud sent the man a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Doesn’t hurt to ask, though.”

“And that’s what makes you think this is a good idea?”, Tifa asked, voice trembling and an angry, fearful look on her face. “We just hope to hell he doesn’t remember Jenova’s sick voice in his head and that he comes back the way he was before? You’ll have to tell him the truth eventually. What if he just goes insane again?”

This time it was Reeve who spoke up before the blond had a chance to react. “Doctor Hollcomb assures us that his Jenova cells are dormant. Theoretically, the real Sephiroth was killed in Nibelheim when he fell into the reactor core. We assume that the others were all clones, manipulated by Jenova.”

Tifa shot the man a dark look. “That’s it? We assume?”

“It always made no damn sense to me dat the guy never really used his sword much,” Barrett piped in. He sent a smile Tifa’s way. “I mean, yeah, if I had a sword dat damned big, I’d use it, and never mind playin’ around with Materia.”

“Barrett’s right,” Cloud agreed. He walked forward and pulled the chair next to Tifa. This was taking more out of him than he’d thought, and he wanted, needed, her support. He sat, and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze; her eyes were sad, betrayed. “The only time it felt even remotely like Sephiroth was when I fought him after Kadaj brought him through. And I think that was because Jenova was weak, and she let him go on auto-pilot. It was… a hell of a sword fight.” And pretty much touch and go for a moment… If Zack hadn’t pushed me, I think I might’ve given up. Sephiroth remembered Nibelheim; I’m sure of it… And that meant that part of his memories were intertwined with Jenova’s. But he certainly wasn’t about to tell any of his friends that; he felt sure they had enough reasons to oppose this plan without adding to their doubts.

“Yeah, and there isn’t much left of Midgar. It’s all just rubble now. You guys tore it up, man,” Yuffie added, with a wry grin.

Nanaki, who had remained silent at Cloud’s side, took a few steps forward. He sat down and gazed up at the group over the table’s edge. “We’ve also been monitoring the Lifestream closely. There’s been no sense of anything wrong, just a lot of activity. Nothing we’ve seen indicates that the soul that now inhabits Sephiroth’s sleeping body is anything other than the man Zack and Cloud knew.”

And Cloud knew that was a lie, because he’d told Red the same he’d told the others about his past encounters with Sephiroth; that they’d spoken a few times, in the barracks, that he’d known Sephiroth had been a decent, if quite distant, honest man. That he’d been enrolled in the Nibelheim mission because he knew the man, not because Zack had insisted he should go. Most of what he knew of Sephiroth had been gleaned from Zack, in the dark hours after his training and his classes. The cadet dormitories, silent and empty, Cloud sitting cross-legged on his bed, rapt, and Zack telling him stories from the Wutai war; tales of entire Wutaian battalions decimated, of monsters fought and defeated.

He remembered feeling small and insignificant, remembered his desire to become just as strong as the General. He was still a kid when they were sent to Nibelheim, although by that time he’d reached the official ShinRa legal age for troopers. The only person ever to have found out about his little lie on his application was Zack.

Back then, in the barracks, all he’d ever thought of was adventure and war. He would daydream of the glory and grittiness of an imagined battlefield and the rush of adrenaline; would hope to one day fight for what he’d thought he believed in. Getting into Soldier had been all that had mattered, all he could strive for. With the luxury of several years of pain and horror behind his belt now, and too much battle experience for his own taste, he could honestly say he’d been a fool.

And throughout all those years, trying to be something he wasn’t, Sephiroth’s presence overshadowed everything in his memories; glimpses of the man at official functions, the General sending a fleeting glance his way as he surveyed the ranks of new arrivals. Zack’s multitude of stories and little anecdotes had been filled with details of the man’s life and character, at Cloud’s own insistence.

His entire cadet training years were spent under some sort of spell, overshadowed by a uniform, and the deep swirling green and flowing silver of the man he wanted to impress most, the only man whose opinion of him could ever have mattered.

* * *
“You ready, Spike?”

The blond shook his head fervently, soft spikes of hair brushing his cheeks. Petrified wasn’t a strong enough word to describe his current state. He tried to answer his friend, failed to find his voice, took a deep, calming breath.

“How do I look?”

Zack smiled down at the smaller teen. His new trooper uniform fit him like a glove; he looked polished and fit for action, if a little on the small side. Cloud was obviously way beyond nervous, past apprehensive and straight into utter brick-shitting terror, but he was damned proud to finally be wearing ShinRa’s colours, and his eyes positively sparkled with pent-up energy. With the ShinRa helmet under his arm and his rifle slung over his shoulder, he was beaming.

Zack shrugged. “I dunno, you still look a bit like jailbait to me.”

“What?!”

“You know, just maybe a little more troublesome jailbait, but still jailbai– Aaaah!”

A well-aimed punch at the older teen’s shoulder promptly shut him up and forced his grin to get larger, if that was at all possible. “Come on, Zack, what the hell?!”

“You look great, kid. The girls’ll fall all over the place for you.”

A hesitant pause there. “Right.”

“Honest.”

“Yeah, okay… If you say so.” Cloud shrugged and pushed his way past his friend to reach the doorway. “Come on, I can’t be late, Zack.”

“You’ll knock ‘em dead, kid,” Zack answered, a fleeting smile on his face again.

They made their way down to the ShinRa barracks’ main communal hall, passing other newly promoted troopers who were filing in ranks in the room. The air was heavy with tension, and every nervous trooper’s face turned to Zack as he and Cloud made their way down to the front of the lines. An elevated section held a hastily erected podium and Zack gave the blond’s shoulder a gentle tap and sent another beaming grin at him before walking up to the side of the stage, where he stood stiffly at attention, waiting.

Minutes ticked by in the silent room, and Cloud had time to reflect on the fact that Zack had led him directly to the first line of troopers. He hadn’t been paying attention at all, and realized with a start that he was utterly exposed, and that he would have a completely unobstructed view of the lectern and surrounding stage.

He shot Zack a dark look when he understood that the older teen had led him there on purpose, but the dark-haired fighter’s gaze was fixed on a point slightly above and behind the ranks. This wasn’t his Zack, this was military Zack, and Cloud knew he wouldn’t get anything now from his friend.

Shit.

Sneaking a furtive glance to his left, the blond noticed that the troopers around him looked about as apprehensive as he felt and he let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. Feeling a little better, he shifted his weight and raised his head to look back up at Zack, intending to burn a hole in his treacherous friend’s face with a well-deserved glare.

He never made it to Zack’s face; his eyes met smouldering green on the way up and he realized that the entire room had gone deafeningly silent.

The General stood there, not five feet from him, looking over the massed ranks of new troopers. Cloud hadn’t even heard the man enter, let alone walk all the way to the middle of the room to stand in front of him. Lost in his fear and awe, he had time to note that the General was a lot taller than he’d thought; he’d seen the man from a distance once or twice, but now he had to actually look up to meet his eyes. The dark leather uniform and heavy armour he wore only served to enhance his impressive build and he held himself proudly, all coiled power. The General’s hair fell down his back in an incongruous cascade of silver silk that did surprisingly little to soften the man’s fierce image and demeanour. Up close, his eyes almost glowed, even in the harsh lighting of the ShinRa hall.

He was, in short, both nightmarishly alien and almost painfully alluring.

Cloud shuddered, once, and the green gaze shifted quickly straight to him. His stomach lurched, and in a haze of panic he silently prayed whatever gods could hear him to force his lunch to stay exactly where it belonged in his stomach. Following Zack’s lead, he focused his eyes on a point to the left and slightly above the man’s shoulder. He almost felt the General’s eyes on him and he willed his body to behave, forced his feet and legs to stay firmly where they were and not bolt him out of the room.

An eternity passed before Sephiroth turned and climbed up to the podium in easy, graceful movements. He stopped next to the lectern and Cloud saw his eyes drift over them once more before settling on Zack, who promptly relaxed and shot the General one of his usual grins.

The black-haired man waved a hand at them, almost pointing directly at Cloud. “Future of ShinRa, sir. What d’you think?”

A pause.

“Let’s just be thankful the war is over, then.” Sephiroth’s voice was quiet, but in the silent room it seemed to boom and echo around Cloud’s skull. The General shook his head slightly. “They’re a little young, Zack.”

“We were all pretty young once, sir.”

Sephiroth’s eyes came to rest on Cloud again, and the blond could almost feel his heart try to hammer itself out of his chest. Panic, pride and something unrecognizable assailed him. He fought to keep his breathing steady and only just managed not to disgrace himself by fainting.

“I suppose they’ll do.”

* * *
Cid’s voice broke Cloud out of his daydream, and it was with a with a dizzying sense of repeating history that he startled himself into the present; Zack’s comforting presence at his side blurring the line between his cadet years and the man he’d become. It was hard to remember those years now; he could hardly believe he’d ever been quite that young and naive. And, let’s face it, impressionable. That promotion ceremony is pretty much burned in my memory…

The gruff pilot exhaled a cloud of pale blue smoke. “Tifa’s still right though. Let’s say he doesn’t remember squat. Let’s just assume everything goes right and peachy… What happens when we tell him what actually went down with the space bitch?” He shuddered, remembering the mangled monster they’d all fought. “When we tell him that thing’s name? I know the guy’s got to remember his mum’s own name…”

“We all know Hojo lied to him about Lucrecia’s death, and Jenova’s role as his mother has little to do with the actual truth. It was what he found out about himself in Hojo’s research that made him lose it in Nibelheim,” Vincent added. “Some of that research was in error.”

Cloud nodded. “Or planted there on purpose.” The others looked at him as though he’d grown a second head. He shrugged. “I really wouldn’t put anything past Hojo at this point.”

Cid exhaled again, more of a sigh now. “Fuck, Cloud, you expect us to call this one? I don’t want that responsibility, kid.”

“No.” The blond shook his head and looked each of them in turn. “I take full responsibility for whatever comes of this. I just wanted to be straight with all of you, and explain my reasons.”

A long, uncertain pause followed.

“Fair enough,” the pilot answered.

“You’re agreeing with this?”

Cid turned to Yuffie, nodded, then looked back across the table at the blond. “Yeah. I trusted you with my back before, kid. I just hope to hell you’re right.”

Cloud sent a thankful and exhausted smile the old pilot’s way. “Thank you, Cid.”

An answering grumble from Barrett resolved itself into: “Fine, but if he goes bonkers again, I’m tearin’ him a new one.”

Yuffie smiled at him as well. “If everyone’s okay with this, then I’m in, too. Guess I can’t stop you anyway.”

He nodded at her and sent a look towards Vincent, who nodded back. “You know you have my support.”

“And mine,” Nanaki added.

Cloud turned back to Tifa, dreading what he might see in her eyes. “Tif…”

She shook her head, tears glinting in her lashes. But when she looked back up at him, she was smiling, and his heart almost broke that he was putting her through this. She reached over and laid a hand on his arm, then let her gaze shift to the table.

“Not yet. Please don’t ask me to be okay with this today, Cloud.”

“I understand.” Not yet, but perhaps one day. It’ll have to be good enough for your little guilt trip, you selfish bastard. “I’m sorry, Tifa.”

“Don’t apologize. You wouldn’t be asking, wouldn’t be here doing this, if you didn’t truly believe this was right. I trust you, too. It’s just… hard.” She smiled a bitter little smile and the trust and forgiveness in her eyes almost broke his resolve. “It’ll take a while to digest this. You have to give me time.”

“I promise.”

“So, that’s it? What now?”, Yuffie asked.

Cloud nearly jumped out of his skin as the shrill beeping of a PHS rung out through the room. “Shit, Reeve.”

“Sorry, I have to take this,” Reeve said as he slid a hand into his breast pocket and pulled out his PHS. Flipping it open, he answered and sent Cloud an apologetic look.

Which quickly transformed into an almost comical grimace of surprise. Cloud turned to stare questioningly at Zack, who answered with a shrug.

“He’s what?! … We’ll be right down. Thank you, Diane.” Reeve flipped the device closed and slipped it back in his pocket.

“We’re out of time, people. Sephiroth’s awake.”