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It started with the sparring match. That hateful, hellmouth of a sparring match. Sephiroth was a Beta—he was supposed to be quick, mentally and physically. But he hadn’t been quick enough to stop his pack’s Omega from getting hurt by the shrapnel of the common sword Angeal had been using, and that had bad enough. But then the wound wouldn’t heal.
Genesis had been a little too aggressive in his attacks, and now it was costing him. He didn’t deserve to die for it. Even if he hadn’t been his packmate, he would have been Sephiroth’s friend—and Genesis was their Omega.
Pack took care of pack, right?
Of course Hojo had been able to stabilize his condition, and Sephiroth didn’t doubt that the man would also find a cure… for a price. And Hojo didn’t take payment in coin. There was only one thing he wanted.
Sephiroth paid. He’d known he was shaking when he went out in the morning, and thanked whoever was listening—Gaia, the ancients, the spirit of his mother Jenova—that Angeal didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what Sephiroth had agreed to, and he didn’t ask, and Sephiroth would have loved him for that, if he hadn’t loved him already. He couldn’t talk about the things Hojo did for the sake of ‘learning’.
His pack was the only thing in the whole wide world that was worth having. It didn’t matter if the torture down in the labs was starting to destroy his sleep as well as his waking hours, or that they were having to get increasingly inventive to keep their youngest pack member from understanding and rushing off to do something stupid.
Said pack member, Zack, was staring at him as they rode out to Nibelheim. He knew his face was impassive—he wouldn’t give away the throbs of pain, he couldn’t afford to, or he might just break down crying the next time Hojo sent for him. But the jerky ride didn’t help much with the pain or the nausea left over from Hojo’s experiment yesterday, when he’d injected something black and writhing and Sephiroth had blacked out for an hour. He was pretty sure Angeal hadn’t told Zack about carrying him back to their apartment, but the look on the young Alpha’s face could have been copied directly from Angeal’s.
It couldn’t be helped, so there was no use making it worse by telling the young Alpha how bad it could get. They could not lose Genesis. Sephiroth would make sure of it.
“Sir? Are you okay?” one of the infantrymen, a blond omega with the bluest natural eyes he’d ever seen, finally asked. It only really surprised Sephiroth that he’d beaten Zack to the punch.
“Fine,” he said. He tried not to growl, really he did, to Genesis’ teasing and Angeal’s exasperation. If Zack noticed the effect he had on most people, then he was a far better actor than Genesis gave him credit for.
Unfortunately, the Omega was effected the way most people were, and drew himself into a hard knot of limbs. But then, to Sephiroth’s surprise—he took a deep breath and tried again.
That… wasn’t normal either. Sephiroth found he approved.
“If… if you get motion sick, I have anti-nausea pills—I have to take them before long trips. Would that help?”
Behind the slight young Omega, Zack beamed. He liked displays of courage and of kindness.
“I… not usually. Is it specifically for motion sickness, or nausea in general?”
The Omega’s eyes narrowed with thought, as if he had forgotten the Silver General in light of the question, and he frowned and started digging through his pack, dragging forth a pill bottle that sounded like a maraca and staring at it. “Nausea in general,” he said a moment later. “Are you okay? Did you eat something foul?”
I didn’t eat it, but it was foul, Sephiroth thought, but thought that might make the little Omega wary again. Or make him ask more questions. “I think it was mostly an activity from before I got on transport,” he said, and shrugged, because Zack was watching, and Zack was a firm advocate of shrugs. The healing skin across his abdomen hurt, and he ignored it.
The Omega cocked his head at him, apparently concluding that something about his gesture was off. Perhaps he should practice it more. Zack would probably tell him. “Okay, here. Take some of them and lie down for a bit—they can make you dizzy before you absorb it.”
“He’s right, babe,” Zack said. “You should probably lay down anyway, you look like shit.”
Sephiroth sighed and laid down. He didn’t have to but Zack could get annoying when he was worried, and he wasn’t exactly feeling great. Laying down on the cool floor felt good, and a moment later Zack came and laid between him and everyone else, and while the gesture of protection was completely unnecessary and… incredibly sweet, it was also incredibly soothing. His scent helped, of course, and while Sephiroth was completely able to look out for himself… he wouldn’t have laid down and slept if he’d been alone with others here. “Thank you. Both of you.”
He could hear Zack’s grin in his voice. “No problem sweetheart. No, don’t worry, he’s fine. If he wasn’t he might use a contraction or even slang!”
The second part wasn’t to him then. He already knew how he spoke. “I will not do either.”
“Course you wont. Don’t worry, he’s fine. You can tell everyone in your hometown the Silver General owes you Cloud! Maybe leave out the bit where what he owes you is nausea pills though, sounds more impressive that way. It’s not like they’ll disbelieve you when he’s right there nodding gravely.”
“I can do that,” Sephiroth murmured, his awareness starting to fade. There was something in that that he had to latch onto before he forgot—“You are from Nibelheim, Cadet…?”
“Cadet Strife sir.”
“Cadet Strife, you are hereby given leave during the evenings of our time in Nibelheim, past Seventeen O’Clock sharp for the duration of our time in Nibelheim. Go visit your home pack, let your parents know you are doing well. I am willing to pose for pictures or nod gravely in conversation as needed.”
“I… yes sir! Thank you sir!”
It was nothing. He meant that. Though as he drifted off to sleep, he heard the cadet mention to Zack—did he know Zack? Perhaps the Cadet was one Zack was interested in mentoring—that his mother would be glad to see him. He felt a searing pang of longing, and then he was out.
He was out for two hours three minutes and forty three seconds. It was the last time he would sleep in Nibelheim. It wasn’t enough.
***
Zack was worried. He wasn’t stupid by any metric—he wasn’t as brilliant as Seph or Gen, each in their own way, but he wasn’t stupid. He just… overlooked details sometimes. He knew something was wrong—knew that it had to do with the last spar between the three older pack members, knew they hadn’t sparred since, because that wasn’t like them. It worried him. Genesis was more waspy and Sephiroth more distant since, and Sephiroth went down to Hojo more often.
And he knew that was wrong. Seph hated Hojo.
And yeah, his packmates were clearly hiding something uncomfortable from him because he was the new packmate, and it was normal to be protective of new packmates, and that was fine, and he wanted to pamper the next packmate just as badly as they wanted to pamper him. All that was fine.
But being out of the loop was starting to wear thin. How could he help Sephiroth when he didn’t know anything about what was happening?
He’d call together the whole pack when they got home. Until then… he’d do what he could. He didn’t really believe dragons posed a threat to Sephiroth, and certainly not when Sephiroth had him and two SOLDIER candidates for backup.
And Cloud had a chance to really show off his materia skills! That excited him—no one should be so abjectly unsure of himself as Cloud was. Sephiroth’s… problems with the science department aside, if Seph recognized Cloud’s skill on his report, Cloud was way more likely to make SOLDIER. Pretty much would have it in the bag! And that was great, because Cloudy’s magic was… hoo boy. He’d be as dangerous as Genesis, after growing a bit and getting the mako enhancements. Maybe more, because so far, Cloud had always been able to hold his temper. Maybe a little too much. He made sure not to tell Genesis this, because he liked having eyebrows and being able to trust his food.
Being in a pack with Genesis was weird sometimes.
***
Barret settled in to sleep, hoping his packmates were awake so he could get a good night’s rest. They usually were—he knew who his packmates were, and they should be in Midgar, so generally, unless they were out on missions, they slept opposite him.
Thank Gaia.
It wasn’t that he hated them or anything. He’d been cautiously optimistic when he’d first presented—cautiously, because Myrna’s pack had been a bunch of bastards, and also because turning up into his presenting dream married was… not the usual way of things. He’d never imagined he would have married before even meeting his soulmates when he was a child, but…
Well. How could he not. It was Myrna, and he loved her ferociously without needing fate or the planet’s guiding hand to say he should do so.
Being married did mean that the usual development of family circles was somewhat on it’s head, that he needed time to her and only her that in the years after presenting, most people gave to their soulmates. That… could cause problems, he knew that.
But. He’d hoped they’d be decent people. Hoped they’d understand that he wouldn’t cast her aside, no matter how wonderful they were—hoped it would be his friends, so they could be pack with people who already understood and loved them. And so Myrna wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed when she met them-- her pack had… given her insecurities that an adoptive pack might struggle to accept.
A few years ago now, he’d finally met them, if only in dreams.
He didn’t know these people. Their voices were strange to him, in the dream, and the one his instincts said was Omega was… the brashest, cockiest young pup he’d ever met.
Oh Gaia. They were… twenty something at most? He had the horrible feeling that he, not yet in his mid twenties, was the oldest. Not really a surprise since it had taken them so fucking long to present… or had the issue there been the sleep schedule? He wasn’t usually asleep during the day. It had been years since he’d been asleep at noon. Which meant what? They were night shift? That was fine but…
They did seem accustomed to each other. Not their presenting dream then….
“Come on out, hot stuff,” the omega had purred at him, the… theatre? Was he in a Theatre? He’d done his fair share or research about presenting dreams, every horny or lonely teen did, but most dreams were bedrooms or dens, places of safety and intimacy. Why the fuck would his omega pick a theatre? “We won’t bite. Unless you ask nicely!”
There was a groan he registered as a another Alpha. “Look, he’s always like this. It’s not as bad as it sounds, really he’s not, but he’s pleased and proud to have us and for him, that’s turning into…” the alpha trailed off.
“Back off and let him take his time,” another male voice. A beta? Perhaps the voice of reason, even. “He’ll join us when he’s ready.”
“But I want to meet him!” the young stupid omega had growled, irritable.
They were all maybe early twenties, horny, idiots.
Loveable idiots, to be sure, and he liked them fine, but… but there was no way that the Omega would understand his marriage. Being pack didn’t automatically mean sex, in fact it usually didn’t mean sex, but… being the babysitter to a pack of young hooligans while they stumbled into maturity scared him just a little. Okay, he wasn’t all that much older than them, but he wasn’t going around flirting with every person who rolled into his dreams. Which clearly made him the responsible eldest in this pack, Gaia help him. And that one seemed like an attention whore, who would take sharing him personal. He kept himself still and calm. Politely uninterested. Fondly, and amusedly uninterested, because it was hard not to love the idiots… but uninterested just the same.
He would not cast Myrna aside for anyone. And while joining a pack without Myrna was more than possible, it would mean travel, as he learned listening to them talk, being in Midgar, so far away, and she’d feel like a burden and… and he couldn’t do that to her. She needed him here.
Fortunately, mostly they slept opposite him—he realized, as time went on and he listened, that the two were SOLDIERs—living in Midgar then. Which was fine—even a little reassuring, to know that his pack was the kind of people in SHINRA military. Cute kids.
But tonight, for the first time in some months, one of them—the beta—must have been in on a mission.
The beta—Sephiroth, he had learned his name was, and hadn’t that been a shock—felt more than exhausted, wrung out, drained, and he hurt everywhere. It made his hackles go up—no one should be hurting his pack, but the beta only sighed, then, for a wonder, laughed. “You don’t need to protect me.”
And that… felt wrong. The omega—Genesis, the flashy SOLDIER who wore the dumb red coat, apparently in combat, like an idiot, routinely tried to make Barret reciprocate the dream, either with soft, coaxing words, or, honestly more frequently, with insults and attempts to get a rise out of him. And sometimes with his omega magic. But none of that came as close as this did to making him reveal himself, if only he could ask why he hurt like this.
“It’s nothing,” Sephiroth said, soft and gentle. “Pack looks out for pack, right? You needn’t fret for me, mystery alpha. I had to take care of Genesis.”
Ahhh. War injury protecting the hothead omega. Seemed right.
But Sephiroth was gone just as quickly, and it did not seem good, that he was awake already.
Hopefully he’d be asleep soon again. Idiot. You couldn’t heal injuries running around.
***
Genesis got more and more nervous as the days went on, and Sephiroth did not dream with them. It wasn’t unusual, really, for Sephiroth to be unable to sleep with them when he was on the other side of the world. He was on the opposite time zone after all, and that mattered to whoever you were dealing with at least.
But Zack stole naps to talk to them, and what he told them was… disquieting. Certainly, ridding the reactor of monsters was important, and yes, getting Zack out doing things was… good for him.
But in a dreamscape of an apple orchard, with sweet blossoms perfuming the air and petals raining down around them, Angeal and Genesis remained alone.
And as the days wore on, it felt… worse.
Genesis had been worried about Sephiroth a long time. He couldn’t complain, shouldn’t complain, because he knew it had something to do with Hojo suddenly pulling a treatment for him out of his ass—knew exactly the coin the bastard would want to be paid in.
And… he wasn’t at his best. His condition had psychological effects. Even hallucinogenic ones, sometimes.
But Sephiroth had not looked fine when he left the building, and in the dreams, the air felt… wrong.
Omega’s intuition, maybe. But Sephiroth was on the other side of the world. They had sent the younger Alpha with him, though, and Zack would keep Sephiroth safe. Or die trying.
Ridiculous thought. Sephiroth wouldn’t need help. He never did.
***
Zack checked the building again. He was feeling antsy, and he wanted to prove he was a good protector, because Cloud was adorable.
Yes, Sephiroth and Angeal and yes, even Genesis were adorable, but they didn’t really need his protection. Well, Sephiroth did at the moment, but he outranked him, and he’d ordered Zack to leave him alone, so… away Zack went.
And now he was at Cloud’s old place eating and talking with his mother, and checking the door and the windows every seven minutes like a newly presented Alpha on his first date because his beta wasn’t letting him help and this omega was cute.
There. And Angeal said he couldn’t make his thoughts orderly.
But Mrs. Strife was nice, and put up with his stupidity, and smiled, and encouraged second and third helpings. He thought she’d get along well with his mom.
He didn’t think Cloud had presented yet, and maybe they’d be really lucky and he’d be part of their pack. After he made SOLDIER, since he’d probably doubt himself forever any other way. But even if he didn’t… he wanted to watch him thrive at Shinra.
He checked on Sephiroth again that night before going to bed, because the Beta needed sleep and gentle loving reminders were what pack did for each other. But he hadn’t worried. He’d fall asleep on his own soon. Right?
When he woke up a few hours later, everything had gone to hell.
***
Sephiroth had always longed for a mother, and never more so than going through that basement, learning horror after horror about himself.
He wasn't sure he wanted one anymore. He wasn't sure he wanted to be born. He found horror after horror in the mansion, and he knew it wasn't... reasonable but... but things had disappeared a lot, when he was a child. People had disappeared. If it seemed like they would be too useful to him, or too kind. So he hadn't left the first night. And he hadn't slept. How could he, when answers were right here anyway and... and he'd lost track of time, but... but he couldn't have been too long anyway, right? Right? He'd been trained to stay up multiple nights at a time anyway. And maybe it seemed like Zack had left a lot of meals outside the door, but they were normal sized meals, so that made sense, right? Gaia. Human-sized meals. What did Cetra even eat? Did he want to know?
Did he want a mother who hadn't likely wanted him, and hadn't cared enough about how lonely he was, how much he was suffering, not to find him?
Of course I cared, my Son.
That was another thing. He was hallucinating. He couldn't tell anyone. It hadn't been long enough for sleep deprivation hallucinations to start up, right? Right? Even if it was, Hojo was always so interested in any... voices. He always had been. And reading what he had done to the last Cetra in his... keeping... even if he hadn't been reading about that he couldn't have made himself tell Hojo and face... whatever he did to investigate.
He couldn't. He couldn't. He couldnt, couldnt, couldnt couldnt couldnt couldnt couldnt
So he didn't. He didn't even tell Zack-- the young Alpha was worried, he could tell, but he might tell Hojo himself if he was worried and he was already spending so long in hell and he needed every second he could get out. And if Hojo found out he hadn't told him right when it started up he might... he might not help Genesis anymore, and he couldn't make himself tell him but he couldn't just let Genesis die so... so what...what could he do?
So concerned about them, my Son? You are above such things.
His hands were shaking, an unseemly display of emotion, and he should probably sleep now but he needed to know, he needed to make sure he knew the worst of it because he didnt think Hojo could get it once it was in his head-- please, if anyone is listening, please--
You don't need to beg me, my Son. Hojo has served his purpose.
If the auditory hallucination would just ignore him, it would be so much easier to ignore her. It. It wasnt a person it was his grey matter misbehaving, and he didnt need to pay attention to it---
Oh, my Son. You are so frightened and confused. And of such silly things. Let me help you.
His hands started to move on their own, and as he fought to control them, it finally came to him-- he wasn't hallucinating. He was dreaming. He must have fallen asleep in the library-- it would be ridiculous to think even he could keep himself awake much longer than two days. He wasn't a god, no matter what sick twisted excuse Hojo gave himself for treating him like... like... He didn't need the man's help. He wasn't a god. He didn't need any help to ascend. He wasn't awaiting some last link in his blood to make some real majestic... thing pour fourth from him. And he wasn't prone to hallucinations. So he had to be dreaming. It wasnt a good dream-- he was killing people. Protecting people, that was how he got out of the labs, proving he could fight, so this had to be a dream, or a nightmare.... But he could usually control himself in nightmares. His hands didn't do things on their own in nightmares-- they were usually strapped down anyway. It didn't matter. He couldn't control any part of his body, and he would never hurt his young Alpha, so he couldn't be awake. This couldn't be real.
***
How had it all gone to hell so fast? Cloud had known Zack was worried, but he hadn't been alarmed until he woke to cries of fire and he saw... and he saw... He would never close his eyes without seeing his mother... like that... ever again. He'd have killed Sephiroth for that, just that, but then he saw Tifa, weeping and wounded... he'd always loved the pretty Beta, and her grief... even if it was for a bastard like her father, tore at his heart. But he wasn't a mighty Alpha or a swift Beta, he was an Omega who didn't have any materia on him to play to his strengths, and the only person who might have had a chance at a frontal attack... Zack, was already on the floor and bleeding by the time Cloud got to him. He wasn't sure how he did it, though the song of the ancestors... now with a new voice in the chorus, a voice he loved, drumming in his ear, he half suspected there was some strange magic at play here that he didn't understand, the will of the Planet and the spirits within rising.... but maybe it was always like this, after a slaughter. How would he know? Whatever it was, it seemed to have Sephiroth in thrall too,if he didn't hear Cloud coming. He was saying something soft, something pleading to the weird steel angel statue, but Cloud didn't want to hear it. Cloud didn't want to know whatever that sick bastard thought was happening. The sword slid in with some effort. It was easier than he expected it to be, driving it though his hero who had killed his... everyone, probably.
“I hate you. I hate you,” he told him, and he was crying, and pathetic, not to be able to save anyone from... from this bastard, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter if he was the most pathetic thing in the world if Sephiroth would just die.
Sephiroth jolted when the blade slid in, less like it hurt and more like someone had thrown a cold bucket of water in his face, and he turned. Looked at Cloud. And his face was.... Cloud didnt know what emotion sat on his face. But something flowed back into his inhuman eyes, like he'd been held at one remove the whole time.
“Thank you, Cadet Strife.” Sephiroth said, very soft, and fell into the mako without another word. Cloud turned and crawled back to Tifa-- he'd been hurt? He'd gotten hurt in there somewhere too. Funny, he didn't even remember that in the face of his hate. He crawled to Tifa and knew no more.