Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Genesis is not alone.

He doesn't know how long he hasn't been alone. He hasn't exactly been in a stream of consistent consciousness. His awareness comes and goes as the planet turns. He wakes, he sleeps, but he does not move.

He knows, faintly, that there was a time where he would hate an existence like this. There was a time he was a living thing. A flame. Alight and ever moving. Hungry without satiation. He's not that any longer. He's glacial, but not cold.

In the moments where he can recognize what he is, that he has skin and blood and a mind in a body—he likens himself to ashes. Ashes with no wind to stir them. A mark of the truly dead: to be nothing at all, and to be stationary in that nothingness.

Yet these ashes are not alone.

There is a heartbeat made of mako, near him and around him all at once. There is water over rock, the shifting growth of stalagmites, the slither of creatures crawling on their bellies. And then there is it.

It is a peripheral presence. It tastes like mako, but Genesis hasn't tasted enough to know whether or not everything will taste like mako for him. Mako is grafted to his being and every place of sensory input that creates it. His mind, his nose, his mouth, his ears—mako, all the way down to the bone. The price of touching a gift that was never his to have.

It does not hover. Genesis knows hovering. He remembers it, from a man larger than him whose face escapes him, but whose voice doesn't. It echoes sometimes in the back of his mind, reminding him of honor, repeating stanzas of poetry to him, scolding him with a tone that is doting or exasperated or just to the right of loving. One of the greatest disappointment's of Genesis's existence is how little he can remember. The price of a flame going out.

It does not hover, but it will linger. Its heartbeat is steady when it comes, easily distinguishable. Genesis, with what little emotion he can reach, does believe he likes that. It is simple but it is sure. It is unique but it is predictable. It is all encompassing, drowning out the banal sounds of all else ignorant to Genesis's presence. Genesis knows no sun or moon or wind or rain, not any longer, but he knows it.

It will have a heartbeat that is slow and steady. It will surround him with a sound so solid he can feel it. It will come and go, and though Genesis does not have the presence of mind to count, he imagines he could tell the passing of the days by its coming and going.

But he can't, so he does not, so he sleeps.

—

Genesis's shelter is a cavern deep in the earth, closer to the Goddess he serves, and that means all that lives echoes. He is being reborn into something she can use. To be reborn, you must die.

Several times, apparently.

He has only recently gained enough cognizance to realize that is what's occurring. Even now, it is knowledge that he can hardly grasp. In his simple hindbrain, there is asleep and awake, and there is little in between that matters. This naturally means that he, in his odd in between state, does not matter.

But it does.

He can sense more of it now. His mind is coming closer together, the ashes of his remains gathering into a shape of a shadow. Genesis is there, but just barely. It is in that 'just barely' that he finds what it is.

It is a man.

Genesis cannot open his eyes. He has no way of seeing who this man is, what he looks like, or whether he's truly aware of Genesis's presence. He might not know Genesis is there at all. For all Genesis knows, perhaps he has encroached on this man's place of solitude. It would be amusing that even in death he manages to intrude. Amusing, that ashes would carry such traits of the flames they were long ago.

It isn't by sight that he learns its identity. No—Genesis cannot see the man, but he can feel him, and he can hear him. It is by this feeling, one that is growing stronger every day, that Genesis learns that he is a man. It is by listening that Genesis learns everything else.

He is not loud, and Genesis supposes that it is part of his nature. Even his heartbeat is a grounding force rather than a deafening one. He is not the sound of cleaving earth, and he is not the sound of whistling blades, and he is not the sound of laughter and blood. He is a sound of weathering. A sound of a monument that has stood strong against battering storms.

Genesis has learned that he was mistaken, back when he first learned to recognize his presence. The man is not so loud he drowns out the rest of existence that trudges on without Genesis. It is that the existence around Genesis quiets when he appears. There is a respect the earth pays him. A gift of the Goddess.

He is sacred. Genesis wonders if the man knows this, because for all the quiet the cavern awards his presence, the man never seems to acknowledge it.

Although, to be fair, Genesis is sure the man does not realize he has an audience. After all, he does not speak. He has the solemn quiet of a man behind a curtain, aware of an audience beyond, cherishing the peace before performance. This is a place of rest for him, Genesis somehow knows. This knowledge seems like less of a gift—it only strengthens that sense of intrusion.

Regardless of Genesis's thoughts, it remains that he cannot move. He can only listen and feel and wonder.

All of that, and then sleep once more.

—

Genesis's existence has graduated.

He is more aware than before now, and pleased by it. There is concrete rationale he can follow, time he can recall, knowledge that is based in himself that he can call on. He now has far too much knowledge from other place and times layered over himself, and his ongoing cycle of death and rebirth exacerbated the difficulty of drawing lines between the sources.

It's easier now. He is less ash and more clay, more solid, sticking to the shape he is given.

His hearing has sharpened. It's beyond the ephemeral now, the things no one else hears, and is swaying more into the actually audible.

The first noise is one of stone against metal. Familiar, comforting even. It makes Genesis think of Angeal, and Goddess, it's a relief to be able to recall his name. It reminds Genesis of his own tradition with Rapier; there's no telling if he'll see his sword again.

So he takes comfort in the man's routine, one he is carrying out surprisingly close to Genesis's cocoon. Stone on metal. Metal on air. Air on his tongue, moving without sound; the man mouths something to himself. He doesn't know he is not alone. 

Somehow, for Genesis, this is comforting. He is more whole. The man is still returning. Not for Genesis, for himself. Sacred man the Goddess loves, beneath the earth, in its belly, where he belongs. A gift.

Genesis rests a little longer.

--

When Genesis wakes next in the darkness, he knows it'll be the last time. 

Upon no waking has he ever felt so alert, so real. He can feel fingers and toes, ribs and thighs. His jaw clenches when he asks it, teeth grinding tight until his temples ache. Genesis has never felt realer than he has now. And neither has the man outside his chrysalis ever felt so close, so palpable, so real. 

There's a loud crack, and suddenly, skin against his. It's an explosion of sensation, not all of it pleasant under the tight grip. Then more cracks, cracks before Genesis's very eyes, made of sheer light against the black that was not the back of his eyelids. It's a wall of something in front of him, a wall being torn down with a hand that seems to match the one chained to Genesis's wrist.

A chunk of the black is ripped away and suddenly, the light pours in, and with it sound and with it, him.

"What the hell?" Is the first that Genesis ever hears of his voice. Amidst all the noise, it is quiet. It is nearby and not deafening.

"Are you…" Genesis's tongue is thick in his mouth, but he's too relieved at being able to use it to mind. Genesis can't see the man, but his hand is still warm around Genesis's skin. He's there. He's there, and here, and with Genesis. "Are you…the gift?"

"What?"

No, Genesis thinks, because he feels it coming on from the base of his neck, no, not now, not when I've finally-

Genesis returns to the cold and naked dark.

--

"I'm so sick of this shit," is the first thing Genesis hears when he comes to.

It is because of that statement he decides to keep his eyes closed. Genesis feels the heat of a fire nearby, the chirping of crickets. The ground is hard beneath him, from what he can feel of it. He's wrapped in something, something that he slowly recognizes as a sleeping bag. He's not used to feeling his limbs. It's a rather odd sensation.

"This better not be another triplets situation," the man grumbles. "Why am I always first point of contact? Why can't Vincent have it?"

"If I knew this Vincent, I'd spare you the trouble," Genesis manages to pipe up, then promptly has a coughing fit from his parched throat.

He can barely squint open his eyes, both from coughing and because the light of the fire is much brighter than he expected, but he sees enough to recognize blonde spikes. The man is nothing more than a blur as he moves closer, but something visibly cylindrical is held towards Genesis's face.

"Drink," the man orders.

Genesis tilts his face up obediently, clearing his throat before he manages to blindly wrap his lips around the bottle's mouth. It's gently tilted up as he drinks, trying not to swallow too greedily lest he hurt his throat. The man seems mindful of this too, tilting the water to him even and slow. He has evidently done this before.

Genesis can breathe easier afterwards, and his eyes clear a bit more. Squinting against the firelight is still harder than Genesis would prefer, but he can at least make out the man's face now.

Quite a pretty face, if Genesis is quite honest. He'd appreciate it more if there weren't mako eyes embedded in them, watching him carefully. Bright ones too, brighter than most SOLDIERs Genesis took lead of. Not quite at Sephiroth's level, but bright enough that the man is at least a First.

Genesis feels some degree of wariness. If this man has history with Shinra, or even fought in the civil war of sorts that Genesis brought about, this may end up an awkward position. Though, then again, does it matter? Genesis doesn't seek to restore his position, and he certainly has no interest in going back to Shinra.

But their proximity also means the man has certainly recognized Genesis's own mako stained eyes, even if he's neglected to make any comment or ask for rank. In fact, Genesis is beginning to wonder how long the man will stare at him neutrally when the blonde finally speaks.

"Do you remember anything?" Is what the man asks first. "Name, where you last were?"

"Yes," Genesis answers, then watches his facial expression carefully, "my name is Genesis Rhapsodos."

The man nods in acknowledgement. "Cloud Strife. Do you know why you were in the caverns?"

Genesis blinks. The man waits for an answer, apparently giving Genesis time to recollect. There's no recognition in his eyes. Not even a passing ponder, like it's itching something familiar.

"Are you a SOLDIER?" Genesis asks next, genuinely puzzled by this sequence of events. He lets his eyes open wider since they've adjusted to the light. Maybe Cloud didn't realize he was a SOLDIER too? Because he was squinting? "How long have you been serving?"

Genesis can't quite tell what it is, but something in Cloud's eyes flickers. Genesis can practically feel the man closing off. He's made a misstep.

"Never served as a SOLDIER. Just got enhanced," Cloud says shortly, which explains…nothing? "You served then?"

"…Yes," is the shortest answer Genesis has. He doesn't trust his arms to have the strength to push him up, but he does crane his neck about. There's foliage aplenty, but nothing specific enough to enlighten. "Where are we?"

"East continent, south of the Midgar area. Near a town called Banora." Genesis's head practically snaps back to Cloud. "Recognize it?"

"I am…from there." Not as true as it used to be, Genesis grimaces. Whatever is there now certainly isn't what he left. "As for being in the caverns…this is going to sound odd."

"Try me," Cloud says shortly.

To be fair, his deadpan countenance does give the impression of not being easily surprised. Genesis takes a deep breath and tries to figure from which angle to approach.

"I have done many things wrong," Genesis decides to begin, "things I am not proud of. The Planet gave me an opportunity for atonement. I gave myself to her, and I have been made and remade as part of that effort. Think of my place in the caverns as a cocoon of sorts."

He expects Cloud to look incredulous at some point, to question the likelihood, to ridicule him for addressing the Planet as a living thing, or even to interrogate him on whatever shameful things Genesis might've done. Instead, Cloud nods along to the information, eyes ticking back and to in thought.

"Okay," Cloud responds. "Do you know how long you've been down there?"

Genesis blinks. That was. Worryingly easy.

"You believe me?" Genesis asks, disbelieving himself. He knows how unlikely his story sounds. The response he's receiving is downright baffling. "No questions?"

"I just asked you a question." Cloud looks at him and, though his expression doesn't really change, Genesis feels that his logical ability is being questioned. "I've seen enough for your story to be probable. You aren't the first guy I've woken up from a supernatural nap."

"You are an odd man, aren't you?" Genesis says it the moment it comes to mind, then clears his throat and backtracks. "No offense meant."

"None taken," Cloud says, and from the way he shrugs a shoulder, he quite means it. "Still. Do you know how long?"

"No," Genesis closes his eyes and thinks. "The last year I remember…"

He murmurs it, surprised by how unsure he is of it, then opens his eyes. Cloud's face has taken a grim light, the fire's cast leaving a halo of light behind him.

"Genesis," Cloud says with more care than before, which already has Genesis worried. "I'm sorry. I think you've been under there for five years."

—

The shock of that resonates for long enough that Genesis finds himself glued to silence. He stretches his arms and rolls his ankles, wrapping his mind around it.

Five years. Five years in his cycle of death and rebirth, five years sleeping more than waking. Five years that Genesis knows nothing about.

Cloud suggests they focus on one thing at a time. He'd put Genesis in the sleeping bag because—well, he doesn't have to inform Genesis explicitly. Genesis can feel that he's naked. Despite having a monster of a bike that screams heavy travel, it seems that Cloud doesn't pack spare clothes as much as he packs sleeping ones. So his first order of business is to go get Genesis some clothes in the morning, and then…

"Do you want to go back to Banora?" Cloud asks evenly. "It may have changed, but…"

Maybe he meant to say, It's still there, or maybe, It's still home, or perhaps, You can find your people. He wouldn't know that none of that is true. Genesis isn't quite ready to part with the information either.

"Not now," he offers instead. He casts Cloud a curious glance. "Would it be a burden if I stayed with you? Where would you be?"

Cloud gets another complicated look on his face. Genesis wonders how many of Cloud's complicated looks he can get acquainted with.

"I live in the Midgar area," Cloud says in the voice of a man withholding something. "I have a…partner back home. I'd have to ask."

"Oh, of course," Genesis waves him off with his now better functioning arms. "One thing at a time."

He notes the hesitation before 'partner' as Cloud walks off with a PHS in hand, listening as his steps fade away. A male partner, perhaps? Genesis couldn't blame him for being wary if so; SOLDIER was rife with people of different kinds and different sexualities, but that didn't mean the system was friendly. Discrimination abounded from superiors. Hate speech was never addressed. Genesis was known to be gay within his first year of being there; it's not like he was ever any good at hiding it. He responded by cultivating a reputation of setting people on fire if they called him a slur. Who knows what Cloud's experience with other SOLDIERs might have been.

Never served as a SOLDIER, echoes in Genesis's mind. It's just as confusing on rumination. He's plainly a SOLDIER. What the hell does never served mean?

He's turning this over in his mind when Cloud returns from where he trekked off into the wild. His face is somewhat relaxed now. Must've been hearing his 'partner's voice. Genesis catches himself feeling soft on it; he's a sucker for romance.

"It's good," Cloud says bluntly once he's back in range. "I'll get you clothes and then we can head north. Might want to get some shut-eye."

So Cloud stamps the fire out and lays down on the ground without a complaint, balling up the long leather flap on his outfit to use as a pillow. Which speaking of, fashionable, but he doesn't strike Genesis as the type to care for aesthetics quite as much. Genesis should inquire about it.

Cloud's declaration that they needed sleep was, apparently, his good night. Not another word is said. Genesis stares up through the branches into the stars, shadows of black dotted with white. Never served, Cloud says. Well he doesn't goddamn act like it.

Genesis is not one to keep track of time. He hasn't been, for apparent years now, and having a corporeal body doesn't seem to change that. He has so many thoughts, so many questions, so many ruminations on his situation, that before he knows it, the sky is lightening to a tentative blue-gray. He hasn't slept a wink the entire night.

Cloud sits up before the sun is up and looks at him. Genesis looks back, arms freed from the sleeping bag, warm body still contentedly beneath.

"Clothes," Cloud repeats definitively, before pushing to his feet with a grunt and removing his not-fashion leather flap.

"Scandalized?" Genesis pokes. You don't really know a person until you know what 1) pisses them off 2) makes them defensive 3) makes them blush. He's aiming for all three.

Cloud, for his troubles, merely gives him a deadpan look. "I'm not driving you across the Wastes buck-naked. Not unless you want sand up your ass."

Genesis chuckles, which seems to somehow startle the not-SOLDIER man. Cloud's got bits of a country accent. It's cute.

"But you wouldn't object otherwise?" Genesis teases.

Cloud blinks at him. When he turns and walks off, guiding Fenrir through the lower bushes to a nearby path, Genesis still catches his ears going red.

Genesis hopes his laugh chases Cloud all the way to town. His gaydar has never been wrong.

—

The first break is to stretch their legs. Cloud rides long and hard, and while Genesis doesn't mind, he does miss his legs. All he has to do is get rather pointed in his shifting on the bike, and Cloud hooks the next exit he sees. Either he's considerate or he's easily annoyed. Genesis looks forward to finding out.

It's during this break, over a spread of take-out food on an outside table bench, that Cloud fills him in. It's rather rehearsed, so Genesis does him a favor and lets him have the floor. He must've spent their entire ride figuring out how to put it, with how purposeful and pointed some of the storytelling is. Five years, Genesis missed, and what a goddamned five years to miss.

"It's…" Genesis is struck for words when Cloud finishes.

Cloud is now chewing on his burger, slow and thankfully close mouthed, with a nearly bored set to his eyes. His delivery of events certainly didn't help. How deadpan can you be announcing that, "There were beasts of the Planet that woke up and attacked civilization," and then, "Apparently, there were a lot of fire tornadoes. Firenadoes. Dumb shit," and then, "Junon's the capital now. Shinra Jr. fucked off. He's around still, just chooses when to be annoying."

I mean, seriously! It's all just so…

Impossible. Fantastical. Creative, but unbelievable.

"A lot," Genesis settles on.

"You don't have to believe me." Cloud kneels and inspects one of Fenrir's tires, waving his hand out in the direction of the town's square. "Go out. Ask people. Ask about Meteor and Advent Day and the geostigma pandemic. I'm not the only one that can tell you."

That alone, the willingness to be checked by any old person on the street, already clues Genesis in. He knows, objectively, that even such a fantastical story is born of fact. There was a real haunt in Cloud's eyes, when he spoke of Shinra dropping the 7th sector plate. Meteor's approach, as dissensions grew. How Sephiroth's (Sephiroth's!) Meteor wrecked Midgar, bringing together what remained of Midgar's two halves, and sending the majority of the rest to Junon. The long trek to the city recovering as a shell of itself. Cloud and where he was in it, when the sickness struck, chasing children the most viciously.

But Genesis still reserves the right to discover. So he does exactly as Cloud says.

"Good afternoon," Genesis stopped an elder gentleman on the street. "I'm a writer for the Gratesill Gazette, and I'm currently working on an article about Midgar, before, during, and after the Meteor. If you have any experiences, would you have a few moments?"

That man did not have an experience, no, he was safe here in Gratesill. But his son lived in Midgar at the time, happily on top of plate, Shinra employee. Then the President was assassinated, and Shinra—

"Wait, assassinated?" Genesis lets slip, his surprise too damn obvious, and curses his blunder. Well, in for a gil. "By who?"

The man gives him an incredulous look. His expression seems to scream, What kind of writer are you?, but he blessedly restrains himself.

"Sephiroth, don't you know? Same bastard that brought the blasted meteor down?" The man scoffs at that, scrubbing at his nose with a finger. "Though I don't know the truth of that half. I think it was someone on Shinra's inside, that Rufus boy, and Sephiroth was a good scapegoat. I mean, don't it line up? Daddy's conveniently dead, and he's young and green, so stockholders are being difficult. I think he did the Meteor to try and act like Midgar's hero with another canon like Junon's, but it went belly-side, know what I mean?"

That's something else Genesis learns. Apparently, Cloud's story lines up with the formal one given by Reeve Tuesti, (look at him, going up in the world), on behalf of the WRO, what Genesis has learned is the new Shinra replacement. However, people's opinions on the organization are more polarized. They seem to think that the WRO moving project by project has wounded the economy, and that even years later, there's an employment vacuum that was left in Shinra's wake. Others call the projects the best possible decisions; the WRO focuses on crises, things that need immediate attention, and take enough time to develop long term solutions. These people claim the WRO is not a Shinra replacement at all, but rather, what Shinra thought it was. An organization that helps ensure things like Meteor never catch the world off-guard again.

Genesis didn't expect to get into so many politics around it, but perhaps he shouldn't be surprised. Disasters are much easier to politicize in hindsight than they are in the moment. Besides, it's immersive. Once you've listened to people chat politics for a while, they're more open to…off-topic questions.

Such as:

"And what do you think of SOLDIERs, and how Shinra utilized them? Do you think they've caused any power vacuums, now that they have less management?"

Less, he says pointedly, instead of none. Purposely vague. No one he'd talked to had mentioned SOLDIERs. Odd, when so much of Shinra's reputation was central to the SOLDIERs they had. The middle-aged woman with a basket of laundry on her hip hummed in thought, hitching it constantly as she spoke.

"Well, if I'm honest, I'm not sure it matters much now. Ain't hardly enough of 'em left to bother anything." The woman's voice is a little hoarse, and she sniffs every few words, synchronized with the hitching of her woven basket. "Seeing one's like repeating a rumor. Could be right, could be wrong. Know a lot of 'em got killed off during the Shambling."

"Beg pardon?"

"What we called it." She nods sagely, jerks her chin to the east. "Ain't from 'round here. Grew up in the boonies on the east, and a lot of 'em came through that way cause'a all the Wutai stations. Came in groups, bright green eyes. Ain't eat, ain't hardly talk, just shambled on North."

"All SOLDIERs?" Genesis asked, baffled. Cloud didn't mention this. It seems quite important, seeing as their both SOLDIERs. Or Genesis is and Cloud claims he isn't. "But why?"

"Don't'cha know?" The woman sniffs, hitches. "That Sephiroth feller, they say he had hypnotized 'em all. Like a Pied Piper with his rats. Good lot of 'em died when he did. Left so much pain, so many haints. Whole of the north is a mass grave."

Now that, Genesis did not know, and it seems like a very important detail, even if slightly embellished. A lot of SOLDIERs followed Sephiroth, for some reason, and they paid their lives for it. Perhaps Cloud's a survivor of that? Is that why he's so cryptic about being a SOLDIER?

Oh, Genesis has questions, but he got enough answers for now. Enough answers to navigate safely. He thanks his final interviewee with gusto, simply insisting on kissing the back of her rough, washerwoman hand, before he returns to his tour guide to the world.

"I've heard enough," he responds to Cloud's wordless question. Then, to curry favor, "I believe you now."

Cloud nods and, without a further word, turns around to sling his leg over Fenrir. Taking his word at face value is an interesting decision on the blonde's part, but Genesis won't critique.

After all, Cloud Strife must be hiding something from him, to withhold such juicy details. Genesis fully intends to find out what.

—

"Would you…would you know what exactly became of Sephiroth?" Genesis asks. They've stopped at an inn on the way to Midgar—no, Edge, as Cloud calls it. The last one before they arrive.

Cloud stops completely in his tracks where he's leaning Tsurgi against the wall. The line of his back is so suddenly rigid that Genesis gets concerned. There's so much to keep up with in this world, so much knowledge he's only recently acquired, it's possible he misunderstood something.

"You knew him?" Cloud asks quietly. He hasn't turned around.

"Quite personally, yes," Genesis confesses. Then he shamelessly needles, "Did they erase my existence completely in that place? Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised."

He waits expectantly. Surely this is where he'll slip Genesis something approaching an answer. Genesis's entire new world is an enigma, but he is especially interested in the puzzle that is Cloud Strife.

Cloud clears his throat and finally does a half turn to look Genesis in the eye. There's something old and morose in that one eye he shows. Genesis fears he wouldn't be able to handle the weight of both, and quietly thanks Cloud for his mercy.

"I have memory issues. And I wasn't…at Shinra. When I was enhanced." Cloud shrugs his shoulder and sits on the edge of his bed, starting to take Tsurgi apart. "I wouldn't know."

"…Fair enough." Genesis internally chews on that information, and decides to let that go for now. Now that he's seeing the area, the topic feels especially tender.

"I was Sephiroth's friend." Genesis takes a deep breath and looks out the window, at all the people milling about. "I like to think I was, at least."

All those people he can see, and now he knows what they know. They call Sephiroth a monster. A maniac. A tyrant, even, like he ever ruled anything. He could hardly reign over his own breakfast, back when Genesis knew him. How is the man he knew—the one that was awkward with well wishes because he'd never been sick, the one that Genesis teased for reciting movie lines the way Genesis cited LOVELESS, the one that enjoyed sparring in a way so unique Genesis could only admire it—how was that man this monster everyone claims to know?

Genesis can't understand it.

"It's difficult, hearing what people think of him now," Genesis admits, trying to figure how he'll condense all those thoughts into words. "He was a hero. Better than Shinra ever gave him credit for, and in hindsight, I'm not sure he ever chose it."

Cloud is silent. A quiet shing starts up from across the room, repeating over and over. It's familiar to Genesis's soul. He can speak to it like an old friend.

"I suppose I want to find some way to honor his memory. The man I knew, not the man everyone talks about now." Genesis watches two children running about. They have odd patches of dark and light skin on their legs and arms. Cloud's explained to him that's the remnants of a disease they called geostigma. "I wasn't there. I don't want to believe what they say, but I can't say for sure that anyone is lying. Even if they are, I don't know what the truth is. Surely someone has to know."

Cloud's sharpening stone pauses. He resumes. Genesis sighs and shuts the blinds, pulling the curtains to.

"I get honoring a memory," Cloud says unexpectedly. Genesis turns and blinks at the blonde's back. His hands stay on one of Tsurgi's blades, yet his focus is in the conversation. "Sometimes…sometimes we can't rely on them, though. Sometimes the best thing we can do is let them go and live with what we have."

Genesis blinks again. He stares at Cloud's back and thinks truly spoken like a man that's gone without them, but that isn't fair either, when he thinks of it. An absence of memory likely wouldn't equal an absence of attachment. Genesis remembers what it was like, in his nothingness, to miss Angeal without remembering who he was. He wouldn't wish a hell like that on anyone.

But. It has been five years. Decisions have been made in Genesis's absence, the empire he served has come and gone, and he can't be the sum of those choices. He's only his own choice now, the one he made when he took the Goddess's hand and left it all behind.

"You might be right," Genesis ruminates softly. "Rather wise words, Cloud."

Cloud grunts. "Borrowed them."

"Then you know some rather wise people," Genesis credits where it's due.

To that, Cloud surprises him with a snort. When he turns his head around to glance at Genesis, there's a wry smile.

"She could be," Cloud says in one of those cryptic ways he favors.

Genesis hates how puzzling this man can be. It's endlessly intriguing, for a man like Genesis who seeks to know, and isn't that the most frustrating thing?

—

They make it to Edge not long after nightfall. Genesis is glad they make it after dark, because this gives him the opportunity that Fenrir does not have normal headlamps. No, all the lamps are overpowered red lamps that work gorgeously with mako-eyes. Genesis can't help a moment of delighted laughter over Cloud's shoulder. It's genius. So many years he worked for Shinra, and they never thought of something so ingenuitive and unique.

It helps that Genesis could swear that the wind carries a smaller, more even laugh, and lets Genesis see a glimpse of it before it's beaten away.

The main entrance to Midgar is the same one that leads to Edge. Genesis, immediately notes the lack of street lights. Fairy lights are hung from doors, materia bottled on ledges, shards with reflective paint lining the edges of the roads, bright blue bisecting the middle.

When they enter the square, it's an explosion of color. People still linger about, sitting in fold out chairs, talking and laughing and drinking. A fountain stands in the middle. A meteor with a tail of flame, a world beneath it, strong and bold.

So this is Edge, Genesis thinks. Several men see them and call out Cloud by name. Cloud, merely humming Fenrir through at a much slower pace than Genesis would expect, raises a hand and waves in reply. To each and every one. Genesis wonders if the anti-social man he has acquainted himself with for a day and a half has exchanged places for a stranger.

Eventually, they're pulling up in front of a bar teeming with chatter and music and clinking glasses. Cloud kills the engine and gets out with familiarity. This is the place. Genesis's simple black tee and black pants—(way to adhere Genesis to your modus operandi, Cloud)—were never going to impress by much, but he brushes himself down out of habit. He'd quite like to establish a closet, if he's frank.

He moves to get off the bike, pushing up and twisting—

Genesis seizes and drops to the ground, vision blurring, limbs going numb, and all he can think is not again.

"Genesis!" He hears above him, barely seeing a shock of blonde spikes before his vision is too clouded to tell anything apart. His shadow of a blur turns and looks up. "Tifa!" Then down again, "Genesis, can you—"

Genesis can't do anything. Genesis is falling asleep again.

—

Genesis wakes up far more comfortably this time. There are sheets. Something cool and soothing rests on his forehead. He's warm, the way a comforter is warm against a cold room. He almost doesn't want to open his eyes.

"Heart rate's up," comes a familiar voice from the corner of the room. That damn rat. Rat whose…wait a moment.

"Easy now," comes a soothing voice, feminine yet strong. "Don't fight your way out. You took a few solid hits on the sheets, and a couple to your head. Let's not get you dizzy yet."

"Sheets?" Is what Genesis's mind hones in on, eyes squinting back open. She's right. Now that he is more than blind warmth and vague feelings, his body aches. He can't move his ankles yet. He wiggles his fingers. "These sheets seem nice."

"She means the ground," comes that familiar voice. Ah, yes, Cloud. He knows this, knew this.

When Genesis's eyes are clearer, it's Cloud he spots first. Leaned on the wall, legs crossed, watching him through the shadows his brow casts. Then his eyes trail back to the woman sitting in a chair at his side, kind smile, eyes like rubies, and long braided hair down her back. Along with thighs like a workhorse and biceps with enough to be legally recognized as firearms.

"I suppose I have you to thank," he croaks, then clears his throat. She graciously offers a glass of water immediately with a concerned look. "Ah, I'm afraid I can't…"

"I'll do it," Cloud interjects, coming off the wall and taking the glass from the woman. She gets up from the chair and Cloud scoots it closer before he sits. Genesis thinks he sees something suspicious in his eyes when Cloud leans him up and helps him sip from it, but it doesn't truly matter. Genesis was going to wink at him regardless.

Cloud definitely lets him thud back on the bed a little too hard, which the woman lets out an offended gasp at.

"What?" Cloud deadpans, looking down at Genesis without an ounce of pity. "He can take it."

"He's a guest now, Cloud," she scolds, whacking Cloud on the shoulder with the back of her hand. She huffs at him then turns to Genesis again, voice soft as her smile. "Hey there, Genesis? I'm Tifa Lockhart. I own 7th Heaven, the bar, and you're upstairs where we live. Do you remember everything?"

"You are both very insistent on asking that question," Genesis notes, sighing. He can finally rotate his ankles. Good. "Yes, I do, including the fall. I must not be doing as well as I'd assumed."

"Could've been dehydration," Cloud says with surprising diplomacy. "Hasn't been five minutes."

"That's likely, yes," Tifa agrees. "I'll bring a few bottles up for you."

"Thank you, madam."

Tifa gives him the slightest quirk of a grin larger than her polite smile. Cloud doesn't look nearly as charmed.

Genesis's frame of the world comes into greater focus, and he hears the chatter expected of a bar, echoing up through the floorboards. Tifa seems to notice it the moment he does, glancing at Cloud and then back at Genesis.

"I'll have to go handle them, but listen. You're welcome for as long as you need to stay," Tifa says firmly. "That's final."

Genesis nods, thanks her once more, and she exits, closing the door softly behind her. It's Cloud and Genesis in the dark now, mako eyes glinting off each other.

"Where's your partner?" Is the first thing Genesis thinks to ask, blinking in confusion now that he's getting all his thoughts together.

"That was her," Cloud informs him.

Genesis's jaw drops. Oh, there's no fucking way. Genesis clicks his jaw shut, then has to resist the urge to sulk. Ugh, bisexual maybe, but the man is something.

"Genesis." Cloud interrupts his thoughts. Genesis turns to look him head-on and finds himself surprised at the grim look in the blonde's eyes. "You died."

Genesis's heart drops.

"Heart stopped for a solid thirty seconds. I didn't let her check your pulse. Needed to get you inside." Cloud is especially emphatic about that, compared to the previous sentences, but doesn't elaborate. "Had to drag you up here. By the time we laid you back, heart started again. Lucky Tifa didn't notice you weren't breathing."

Genesis is hardly sure if he's breathing now.

"It's still happening?" Genesis whispers, dreading the answer he already knows. "It was…I thought it was over."

"What was over?" Cloud demands instantly.

Genesis tells him, in stutters in starts, because it's only now that he realizes how hard it is to describe. Existing and not existing. Knowing and not knowing. Being while being nothing at all. A reprieve. A hell. A long, long nap.

"So," Cloud observes at the end, having taken it mostly in stride. "There's a chance this is going to keep happening."

"Yes, I suppose so," Genesis says waveringly.

"And we don't know when it's coming," Cloud continues.

"No, I suppose we don't." Genesis hums and notes, "But now that we know they're coming, we can time it."

"Already working on that." Cloud, in his greatest fashion, doesn't elaborate. He is so insufferable. "Not a good idea for you to be alone. You'll be staying until we figure that out."

Genesis can't even reply his, "Yes, that may be wise," before Cloud has gotten to his feet and left the damn room. Genesis blinks at the slightly ajar door, lightly stunned by the abruptness. It's soothed some when Cloud reappears with towels, a comfier change of clothes, and a bar of soap smelling strongly of rosemary and mint when set by Genesis's legs.

"Bathroom's first on the right." Cloud leans on the doorjamb and points down the hallway. "First on the left is me if you need me. Second on the left can be your business in the morning."

"How generous." Genesis works his arms up and pushes through his elbows, groaning as his body reluctantly obeys. Cloud comes forward to leave a supporting hand on his back. Thirty seconds being dead are quite taxing, apparently.

"Thank you, Cloud," Genesis says more seriously. He grabs Cloud by his arm before he pulls away completely, pulsing his grip on the forearm once. "I owe you for this kindness."

Cloud shrugs awkwardly, but Genesis can see his blush through the dark. He positively lights up with red at the ears; it's impossible not to see, with eyes like Genesis's.

"Just what we do," Cloud tries to slide it off casually. This time he stops in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at Genesis. "I'll wash up first, let you get your strength back. Let me know."

Let me know. Cloud leaves after, but it circles in Genesis's brain. Let me know. Left open and generous, left to fill in the blank. Let me know what you want. Let me know anything.

"I know you're hiding something," Genesis says softly to his empty room. "But you can keep your secrets for now."

Chapter Text

Cloud still takes his rides on occasion.

He's spaced them out a bit more, and he tries not to leave for as long. It's part of the ongoing deal he has with Tifa nowadays. He told Sephiroth that there's nothing he doesn't cherish. He's working on acting like it's true.

He still needs the space, though. It's a life he's not used to. Two kids that are basically his, even if thing's aren't organized enough for any paperwork to say so. Edge is a home of orphans and widows and families broken apart. People are more concerned with having a place to be safe than whether there's a fine print about who's living in your house.

So even if there's nothing saying so, people still ask Cloud how his son is doing. He'll go do repairs in someone's house and pretty much any older man present will ask about his old ball-and-chain. He hits the slap-dash market stalls to get groceries, sometimes buying produce right off of a truck freshly arrived at Edge's outskirts, and they tag on a couple of freebies for his kids.

That's one of the few 'good' things that came out of geostigma. There's a silent agreement everywhere now: you keep the little mouths fed.

It's a lot some days. Cloud's used to a solitary existence, in spirit if not in body. He was alone when he was at Shinra, from what of it he could remember. Zack was the closest thing he had to not being alone. Then there's the very, very little he can remember of the labs and their escape. There's only blinks of thought, glimpses of Zack's face hovering over him, a deep lethargy threaded through the memories. Cloud assumes he wasn't moving much simply because he has no memories of moving. Aside from that, he doesn't know anything about what it was like while Zack got them away from Hojo's labs.

He remembers the cliffs, though. He remembers crawling. He remembers Zack telling him to carry the legacy, and the passing of the Buster's hilt. Cloud remembers how that hurt enveloped him, and that he still can't find the edges of it. He's getting better at fighting how it holds him, but breaking free of it is something else entirely.

What he's beginning to realize is that it's a fear. He never wants to lose someone the way he lost Zack. Never again. He's afraid of it.

When geostigma started happening, that fear spiked—but what could he do? Cloud's a fighter first and foremost. It's what he knows best. Not having something he could fight made him curl into himself, resigned to death. The triplets appearing was almost a relief. There was something to attack. Something to hurt. Sephiroth reappearing could never be called a relief, but it was familiar. If there's nothing else Cloud can do, he knows he can fight. It's the easiest thing to do when he's afraid.

Now those threats are gone, and Cloud has a home with three other people in it. Tifa has been a little stricter, and understandably so, because she deserves better than not knowing whether he'll be there or not when she needs him. Cloud's still learning that, yes, Marlene and Denzel do need him in their lives, because he matters to them whether he wants to or not. He had to look that in the eye to realize that, no, his disappearing stints weren't meaningless. His absence didn't go unnoticed. His absence is, in fact, a weapon that hurts the people that cherish him. Even if he struggles to wrap his mind around being a person that's admired or liked, he can see when things he does hurt others. He doesn't want to hurt them more than he already has, accidental or not. He's gotten a bit better about at least being around.

Cloud still needs to go on his rides. The fear catches up sometimes, when Denzel knocks on the garage door just to tell him good night, or when Marlene finds a flowering weed in a crack and insists he come look at it. The fear is crippling sometimes, when Tifa laughs at the bar, shaker dancing in her hands. He cares about them. He cares about them so much, and if he stands still for long enough he realizes that anything could take them from him at any moment. When that fear returns, when it gets so bad he can't sleep, he genuinely needs the distance.

It took some negotiations and a lot of uncomfortable conversations with Tifa for her to understand. She doesn't fully get it, he knows, but she tries, and he's figuring out how to meet her halfway.

The big boundaries are 1) Cloud tells Tifa when he's leaving, 2) he gives a concrete amount of time he'll be gone, preferably less than a week, and 3) he sticks to that amount of time. The fourth, quieter rule, is that if he starts spiraling then he comes home. The trips lose their point if he can't use the time to calm down and come back evened out. Tifa's still whipping him into shape on that one.

His current trip is just for the weekend; he left Friday and said he'd be back Monday. Today is Saturday, and he's done pretty much nothing but drive around. He's got a route he tends to follow, the same stops in different orders depending on how far he feels like driving. Small towns. People that remember him passing through but don't have much of anyone to tell.

He's leaned against Fenrir, watching the sun sink. He's considering a night drive to his next stop. Driving with built in night vision and enough swords to send anything running takes out all the anxiety and leaves nothing but a blanket of peace. He doesn't need many preparations to do it. All he's waiting on is the sunset.

It's a longer wait than he thought. He ends up wandering out into the wooded area. The place is heavy with pines and red clay, so of course Cloud wasn't expecting to stumble on the mouth of cave. This isn't the sort of area you'd normally find one in.

Old instinct takes over. Cloud enters out of curiosity.

The channel is wide, but just barely tall enough for Cloud to make it through without ducking his head. It goes down, down, down, for long enough Cloud considers tracking back and grabbing Tsurgi from Fenrir. This screams that he's walking into a nest; if nothing else, he has a Silence materia in his bracer. One of those and a couple of firagas to cover his ass should give Cloud enough time to run if he needs to.

So he keeps going, mako-eyes piercing the dark. Eventually he hears running water, noticing a faint blue light piercing the dark. He moves slower as the light gets brighter, crouching down as he sees his channel end into a larger cavern.

He doesn't see any immediate nest on the back wall, which is where most creatures would pick, so he scans the ceiling apprehensively. Plenty of stalactites, nothing hanging from them. Cloud hesitantly draws up to his full height, doing one more sweep of the room, carefully listening. No heartbeats that are too large, only the occasional skittering of bugs and rats. Nothing here is likely to attack him.

Now that he has that established, it's easier to appreciate how pretty the place is as he walks further in.

An underground river bisects it, the slightest of green glows from its depths. Not a direct Lifestream river, but the water must run through a nearby mako deposit. Possibly safe to drink, but enough to make most creatures sick. Not enough to actively mutate, not beyond a higher mako tolerance. The village nearby shouldn't have anything to worry about.

The faint blue glow is from the lichen crawling over the floor and walls, naked stone decorated with it. Some of the stones reflect the glow so brightly they look like black mirrors. Cloud stands in the middle and simply appreciates it all. It's a gorgeous place. Quiet, peaceful. Could make for a nice camp, actually.

He notes it, but a turn of his wrist to check his watch tells him the sunset should be long gone. A final glance is given to the room before Cloud backtracks, almost forlorn. Cloud leaves.

—

Cloud returns.

Sometimes he hits the West continent for his longer trips, visiting with Yuffie over in Wutai or hitting Cosmo Canyon if he gets the chance, but it's usually easier to stay in the east. Plus, Cloud's the last one to mind sleeping in the wild. Not like it costs him any money, and enhancements make it easy to go without food, if that's more convenient.

One of the worst things about his mako enhancements is that Cloud's awareness doesn't truly stop. He can wake up easily, because he can hear everything from his room to the street. Sometimes he startles awake because his brain can't tell the difference between an excited scream and a terrified one, not until he's breathed through it for five seconds and processed more of the environment, whether he's hearing kind or cruel laughter in his ears. Not to mention the nightmares. The fucking nightmares.

None of that happens to him in the cave. Never. It's perfect.

He visits the blue cave pretty often for a break, sometimes staying inside it for an entire night. There's something peaceful there that Cloud comes to enjoy. He never comes in to find a wild animal waiting, and he never emerges to find anything sniffing around the entrance. It's like nothing else can find it, and if that means Cloud gets an uninterrupted night's sleep with nothing but the sound of the river, he'll take it.

Cloud never minds leaning against a rocky wall and shutting his eyes while a jag digs into his shoulder blade. Those things are ignorable—mild discomforts. He can endure all of that for good rest.

—

He comes to view the blue cave as a second shelter. He knows all its surrounding terrain and nearby civilizations, so if he's nearby, he'll go.

It's been about a year of shacking up in there, and he's confident enough now to leave some things there. A spare tent tarp, if he needs it. A sharpening stone carefully wrapped in leather. A bottle with a mako-filter, in case he needs to drink some of the river water. A sleeping bag. Minor things that make it a little more comfortable.

It's a normal evening when he starts his trek downward after locking Fenrir up outside. Chances of his bike getting stolen are incredibly low, with how heavy the thing is, but chances are never zero. Cloud's looking forward to a good night's rest when he enters the cavern.

He stops two steps in. There's a heartbeat. A big, steady, speeding one.

Cloud swears he can hear it dead ahead, but there's nothing there. He hesitates, wondering if he should go back and get Tsurgi, scanning the room hesitantly. Some creatures are so big that their hearts aren't the best way of keeping track of them. But this heart doesn't seem that strong.

It sounds human. No matter how many times Cloud looks around the cavern, nothing is there.

He stares at the back wall. The heartbeat sounds human. Shit. Shit.

It's in the goddamn wall.

Cloud crosses to the other side in seconds, barely managing to not collide with the stone when he presses his ear up against it. He can hardly believe it, but his ears don't fuck with him. Well, they can, but they don't deceive him. He's right. It's a human heartbeat behind the stone.

Cloud starts cursing under his breath, backing up and trying to estimate depth. Whoever it is can suffocate in there. He doesn't know why they're in there, but it wouldn't be the first time Cloud has accidentally witnessed some bizarre way of killing someone. Cloud has something about always being in the right places at the worst times.

Time is ticking, and Cloud is going to have to measure his strength. He hits too hard, he might jostle the person, who could already be injured. If he goes too soft and the person is deeper in than he thought, he's wasting time. He's also wasting time just staring at the stone as he calculates, so he starts cracking at the wall with his fists.

Rapid soft hits will have to do, chipping away at the stone steadily and with enough time to stop if he spots human skin. Sometimes he resorts to digging his fingers into the stone, making it bend under his grasp like butter, and peels some of it away. It's not going as fast as Cloud would prefer, but the heartbeat is still steady. Still there.

Then, on one of his hits, his fist falls through and feels empty air. Cloud twists his hand around, searching, reaching—

He finds skin. He taps it with his fingers, identifies a wrist, finds a pulse to match the ringing beats in his ears. Cloud lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Thank the gods. Thank the fucking gods.

He isn't as rushed, knowing the person has a gap where they can get oxygen now, but that doesn't mean he slows. His other hand finds its mark with more surety, cracking stone and throwing it away. He unearths more skin, finds a face, finds a man.

A very, very naked man, who falls directly onto Cloud the moment he tries to make a bumbling step.

"What the hell," Cloud says freely, because he did just dig a man out of a wall.

The man does manage to lift his head, his other hand grasping weakly at Cloud's arm. He has mako eyes when he looks up at Cloud, bright even when they're clouded over. Shit. That complicates things.

"Are you…" The man's throat is so dry Cloud can hear it in the cracks of his voice. The man looks at him, and it's not the same as when Cloud's saved other people. That's not how you look at a savior; it's something else Cloud is seeing, and not knowing what makes him shifty. "Are you…the gift?"

"What?"

The man never answers Cloud's confused question. No, he passes out right there in Cloud's arms. Naked as all hell. Disconcertingly cold, too.

Cloud growls in frustration, glaring at the wall he dug the man out of. He heaves the man up onto his shoulder and turns. For fuck's sake, every time he thinks he's off the clock for shit like this, something else comes up.

There goes his favorite hideaway. How's he supposed to come down here anymore without expecting someone to be in the walls? It's ruined, damn it.

(Never mind how Cloud diligently spreads the blanket to lay the man across it, gently sliding his legs and body and arms into the sleeping bag. Never mind how Cloud goes to the surface to start a fire, constantly checking the man's temperature. Never mind how Cloud studies the man's face, his peaceful sleeping expression, wondering if the man is supposed to feel vaguely familiar.)

(Never mind all that.)

—

I should've left him in the wall is something Cloud thinks every hour, on the hour, from the moment he first meets Genesis.

Genesis asks how long Cloud has been serving, and Cloud thinks I should've left him in the wall when it's obvious that Genesis doesn't believe his answer.

"So you served," is what people like to say when they see Cloud's eyes. Like being a SOLDIER was a service and not a glorified weaponizing of living people. It's the nice way of saying that they were all experiments. It's the simple way of saying that most of them signed up as boys and were stuck there as men. It's not the full experience that Cloud had, and it's sort of useful to have a concrete difference to point to between him and other SOLDIERs, even if it's alienating. They served. Cloud just got slapped in a tank.

It's not the first time a SOLDIER has engaged with him, looking for common ground between their mako-tinged eyes. Cloud has to disappoint them every time with a quick summary that no, he didn't actually serve, no, his experience at Shinra was not the same, no, he doesn't remember any of the days where SOLDIER started going downhill because he wasn't there for it. He's expecting the same from this interaction. It's inevitable.

That's probably why he dances around it as much as he does. Five years this man doesn't know, and Cloud's not sure he wants to be the one to break the news to him.

I should've left him in the wall, Cloud thinks again after he's had to explain those five years. I should've left him in the wall, when Genesis mentions he was Sephiroth's friend. I should've left him in the wall, when Genesis teases Cloud until his ears are red.

It isn't until they reach 7th Heaven, when Cloud hears Genesis's heart stop, that the tone of it changes.

Fuck, Cloud thinks while he's hauling Genesis up the stairs, Tifa doubling back to reassure the patrons that nothing's amiss. Cloud couldn't tell her he was hauling a corpse inside. Maybe I should have left him in that wall.

He's relieved when Genesis's heart starts back up. He could never want for someone to die, but he can't act like the coming back is natural either. At least not until Genesis explains that's exactly what he's been going through, for years on end. Endless death and rebirth. A cycle he can't escape.

Cloud's resolve hardens afterwards. He couldn't explain it, but…something about Genesis's situation speaks to him. He's firmer on it than he himself expects, when he tells Genesis that he's staying with them. He doesn't expect how much he means it.

"Poor guy," Tifa murmurs later on when they're cleaning up the bar. Cloud explained the situation in full, aside from...the last bit. Then she laughs wryly, that same fatal amusement that Cloud catches himself with sometimes. "We sure know how to find them, don't we?"

"You telling me," Cloud murmurs, wiping tables down and turning up chairs. He can still hear late-night drunks stumbling about in the square.

He takes Tifa's rag from her when they're both finished and drops them in the laundry. He's going to have to make a run over to Marge's soon; she's got the largest drum, so if anyone needs to do something in bulk, they go there. Her arthritis is getting too bad for her to turn it like she used to. Cloud needs to take Denzel by and get him to help her out a bit.

"It must feel so odd for him. Waking up to a world that's changed so much. Especially with Shinra gone." Tifa slides him a drink with a little umbrella in it when Cloud sits back down. She stays standing behind the bar, playing with the toothpick in her own nightcap. "I can't imagine."

"…I can," Cloud confesses lowly. She looks up at him, and Cloud looks down at his drink. Easier with no eye contact. "It's like the world rearranged around you."

Tifa's hand is suddenly nearby. She doesn't grasp him like she used to, but the offer is there. She's nearby.

"I'm sorry I didn't know how to help you back then," she says just as quiet.

"Did what you could. Wasn't like I asked for help," Cloud reminds her, because they've done this dance. If he can't hold onto his guilt, she can't hold onto hers either. "He's different from me. More curious."

More doomed, Cloud keeps to himself. He didn't tell Tifa that Genesis's heart stopped. He didn't really get Genesis's permission to tell anyone, and that seems personal in its own way. He feels like it's the sort of knowledge Genesis should have control of.

"Well then, he's lucky, all things considered." Tifa hums and pats the back of his hand with the other one, grasping it gently. "There's so few people that could understand what it's like for him. It's a good thing it was you."

It's a good thing it was you, plays on repeat in Cloud's head that night. He sees Sephiroth every time he closes his eyelids. He ends up laying awake in his bed next to Tifa's, listening to her breathe.

I don't think it was, Cloud can't help but think.

He'll hate me, one day.

—

That, among other thoughts, gets stuck in his head as Genesis stays with them. He meets the kids in the morning, like Cloud promised, and is thoroughly stunned.

"I did not picture you with a nuclear family," Genesis explains his surprise bluntly. He was nice, but Cloud could see from the first slightly awkward interaction that Genesis hasn't spent much time around kids. Cloud can relate. "I didn't even picture you with a wife."

"Tifa's not my wife," Cloud feels the need to set straight. They're standing together in the staircase, speaking quietly, on the brink of going down or up. "We're just partners."

Genesis gives him the same look Cloud always gets when he explains that. It's the same look he gets when he says he's not a SOLDIER. That 'Are you fucking with me, or just fucking with yourself?' look.

Unlike the many others Cloud has dealt with, Genesis seems to rein it in after a few moments, turning pensive instead.

"Like a unit?" Genesis asks. He makes a point of looking down and into the bar, where the kids have both hopped up on bar stools as Tifa makes breakfast. "And you're just friends?"

Cloud can't explain the relief. Gods, it's nice when someone just fucking listens to him.

"Yeah," Cloud confirms. "Just friends."

Genesis nods. "And the kids?"

"Both adopted. Marlene's a daughter of a friend, actually, but he travels for work. Wanted her to have something steady." Cloud nods towards Denzel. He's currently staring at his mug like he has a grudge, but sipping from it anyways. "Denzel's an orphan."

"Seem to be plenty of those, from what you told me," Genesis murmurs. Cloud hums his agreement. Then the redhead laughs softly, and Cloud turns back to look at him. "Does he or does he not want to drink that?"

"Ah." Cloud snorts and leans a bit closer, lowering his voice in case Denzel's trying to eavesdrop. Cloud's learned not to underestimate his capabilities, even with some distance between them. "Kid wants to drink coffee now. He's caught me drinking it black, and he's mad Tifa gives it to him with more milk than mine."

"Oh, the horror." Genesis snickers. Cloud huffs.

"Yeah. I have to put milk in mine so he'll suck it up. Gotta go be miserable with him." Cloud pulls a face and this time, Genesis laughs even louder. Loud enough Tifa turns and looks at them. Damn it.

"You're up," she announces, like it's newly discovered and they haven't been hovering for several minutes now. "Come on down and get some while it's hot, yeah?"

"Careful, I'll get spoiled," Genesis calls back as he makes his way down the stairs.

Tifa laughs, brushes him off, and Genesis compliments her again, something about how delightful it smells. Cloud grimaces a bit as he follows. He can't tell how much of the flirtatiousness is Genesis's personality and how much is him showing interest in Tifa. And Cloud would rather he not.

Whatever it is, it calms down in the face of the kids, who have a hundred and one questions now that Genesis is a captive audience. Or Denzel does, taking charge in place of Marlene's relative shyness with strangers. Cloud can still see Marlene craning around Tifa to look at Genesis curiously, obviously listening in.

Where are you from? Are you a SOLDIER? Were you a bad SOLDIER or a good SOLDIER?

"Banora," and "Yes, I am," and "That depends who you ask."

"Do you think you were a good SOLDIER?" Denzel asks off the last answer, in what is likely a perfectly rational follow-up in his mind.

Genesis blinks, and he pauses. Hard. Cloud's about to step in and tell Denzel to finish his food at about this point. Kids have a way of asking complicated questions because they think they're simple. Cloud understands being caught off guard by it.

He starts to talk until he sees Genesis's expression change. His smile is tight, and something in his eyes is dim, but he answers.

"Not all the time," Genesis says quietly. Tifa looks up from where she was quietly talking to Marlene at the other end of the bar. Cloud swears she has a sensor for emotional statements. "But I was trying, at least. I think that's the most important part."

Denzel shovels a forkful of egg in his mouth and nods, like this is very important. He's still chewing when he opens his mouth. "Have you ever killed a—"

"Denzel, swallow before you talk," Cloud scolds. Time to draw the line there. "And finish up soon, we're going to help Miss Marge."

Denzel shuts his mouth, swallows, then eagerly asks, "Can we ride Fen?"

Cloud huffs a breath through his nose. "Yes, we can ride Fen."

Denzel punches the air and doubles down on his breakfast, practically bouncing in his seat with excitement. Cloud crooks a brow at Genesis once the kid is looking away. Genesis laughs a little under his breath, then turns to his own plate.

"Oh, are you taking the rags?" Tifa pipes up in the silence, turning out of her bar stool and heading for the laundry. "I talked to Timmy yesterday, he mentioned something about taking stuff to Marge. Maybe swing by his?"

"I'll stop by. Genesis, you coming?"

Genesis blinks at him with his mouthful, and presses a fist to his mouth while he swallows.

"I didn't realize—" Genesis blinks more, surprised, before he clears his throat and evens out. "I think I'd like to, yes."

Cloud nods, and that's all. Yet Genesis keeps staring at him for a few seconds after Cloud looks away. Cloud pretends not to notice, and Genesis goes back to eating eventually. Weird, but whatever.

"Well, me and Lenie are going shopping," Tifa says on her way back in with the basket of rags on her hip. "Let me get your sizes so we can get you a working wardrobe."

"You're too generous," Genesis simpers immediately, like a switch flicked on. Cloud has to close his eyes to keep from rolling them.

—

It's a pretty fast way to introduce Genesis to the neighborhood. Denzel rides in front of Cloud and Genesis behind, the rags carefully balanced on the latter's hip. They're riding slow, so Denzel is shameless in taking control of the tour. He does better than Cloud probably would've, mentioning neighbors as they pass them, waving hard to all that greet them. His matter-of-fact enthusiasm is a little contagious. Not for Cloud, he's tired, but it seems to cheer Genesis up a bit.

They're in the residential area, built for walking more than cars and fairly vacant this time of morning. Most people are at their jobs or on their way. The people they pass are scarce, and they move around Cloud's bike with friendly greetings and curious glances at Genesis.

"Den's on Fen," Denzel says at random, feet kicking out to the side.

"Den and Gen are on Fen," Genesis chimes in, and Denzel makes a noise between realization and utter delight. Cloud, with only the slightest of grudges, notes that Genesis is picking up on how kid's work a lot faster than Cloud did.

"Den and Gen are on Fen," Denzel announces, then looks up at Cloud like he's committed a crime. "Your name doesn't rhyme."

"Oh no," Cloud deadpans. "Guess I have to let one of you drive."

"Me!"

"No, that should be me. Can you even reach the handlebars?" Genesis critiques, leaning close over Cloud's shoulder. Cloud can feel Genesis's breath on his neck.

"I totally can, see?"

Denzel then proceeds with trying to reach for the handlebars, and fails. Genesis laughs at him, and Denzel huffs, stretching out further.

"If you fall, I'm laughing before I pick you up," Cloud informs him, only because he hasn't moved his speedometer a centimeter upwards. "You're gonna eat face, and I'll laugh."

"Quit being mean!" Denzel whines, but he sits back against Cloud with a huff, crossing his arms.

"Yes, Cloud, quit being mean," Genesis repeats, right next to his ear, his smile audible.

Cloud growls and turns his head, Genesis barely reeling back enough for their faces to not collide. They're still close. Very close, close enough Cloud can see flecks of grey in Genesis's eyes. And his smile is about how Cloud pictured it. Shit-eating.

"Should've known you'd be a bad fucking influence," Cloud grumbles into the small space between them. Genesis's smile grows, a twinkle in his eyes.

"You cussed!" Denzel hollers gleefully, and Cloud groans. "I'm gonna tell Tifa you cussed, and you've gotta give me ten gil!"

"Fuck," Cloud sighs, and Genesis laughs so hard it echoes off the metal city around them.

—

The day goes by. Cloud watches Genesis relax. Cloud keeps checking his watch for the stopwatch he set not long after Genesis woke, watching hours tick past. Genesis charms the britches off Marge. They hit twelve hours. They stop by Lisa's for lunch, then Gunther's to see if any interesting scrap has come in. Fifteen. They take a trip to the 'market' which is really just another square reflecting the main one, but racked with stalls instead of the main businesses.

Cloud keeps track of the time passing because he knows Genesis sure isn't. He's too enamored, insistent on asking everyone questions on whatever intrigues him. He's an adventurous man, Cloud quickly learns. Very different from when Cloud woke up. He just. Walked around, absorbed information, took cues if they were given to him and stumbled through if they weren't. Genesis moves with a confidence in his social ability that Cloud can't relate to. He's not exhausting though, like Yuffie can be, or loud, like Barret can be, or constantly making a very deliberate effort to keep Cloud involved, like Tifa does. He just. Is.

Not to say he's not involving Cloud. He is, to a surprising amount, but it seems to occur to him naturally to turn to Cloud and ask something. Cloud can usually see the moment Tifa is getting wrapped into something before she pulls back and talks to him, like she'd forget him if she got carried away. Not that Cloud would mind. He'd prefer she get carried away and enjoy herself, if it meant she'd stop worrying over him needlessly.

Genesis lacks that entirely. Probably because they've only known each other a couple days, and Cloud can attribute Genesis's questions to true curiosity. He asks interesting things too, like why a specific plant is so popular, why so many of the lights are materia based, whether the market has always been here. He listens just as attentively when Cloud explains how the early days of Edge's recovery involved a lot of farming in the Wastes, which made them prioritize hardy plants over leafy ones. Root stews and cacti-salads. Materia were in abundance more than electricity was; the early Edge settlers were almost exclusively materia users, while the rest stayed out on the Wastes and traveled inward to help with clean up. The market used to be in the main square, but as more people got settled, using the old under-plate practice of building upward instead of outward, a second square was built to house both internal and external trade.

"This place is a nexus of history," Genesis murmurs to Cloud at some point, genuine excitement glimmering in his eye. "You're a testament of survival. It's fascinating."

Cloud had to clear his throat and look away. He's never done well with compliments, and Genesis seems to be in a mood where they're plentiful.

"Tell them that, not me," Cloud mumbles back, resisting the urge to rub the back of his neck. He nods at the market around them, at both the older that survived and the younger, all the ones who witnessed the worst and came out better. "Wasn't as hard on me as it was for them."

"I bet you starved yourself so they could eat," Genesis accuses. Cloud whips back to look at him. Genesis's raised brow dares him to deny it.

"I didn't starve," Cloud denies anyways. Because he didn't. "Mako reserves kept me up. I only needed to eat once or twice a week."

"Hunger pangs will continue for the first three days a SOLDIER doesn't eat, and will continue to happen at random, with intensity, as long as the SOLDIER is burning energy. A SOLDIER can only function without food if the SOLDIER is not burning through those mako reserves. And I'm sure you were." Genesis looks thoroughly unamused with him. "I was a commander, Cloud. I helped wage war. Whatever you told your friends to convince them you'd be fine won't work on me."

Cloud swallows and looks away. Genesis doesn't move on like he hopes, standing there next to Cloud with a quiet intensity. Cloud finds Denzel talking to someone selling squash. Cloud can faintly hear him asking about why they're green.

"We all did what we had to." Cloud can't quite get himself to look Genesis in the eye again. "I'm not special for it."

"Maybe not. You don't have to understate what you went through, either." Genesis knocks his shoulder against his and Cloud looks up again, surprised. Genesis gives him a half-smirk. "I can only reliably embellish things when I know the truth, after all."

With that same glimmer in his eye, Genesis strides off to the booth Denzel has stopped at, leaning his elbow on top of his head as he introduces himself. Cloud watches him, wordless. He doesn't know what to say to that. Maybe there isn't anything to say. Maybe that's all.

He turns his wrist. Seventeen hours. If Cloud's estimate is right, they should get home.

Denzel is predictably difficult about leaving, because he loves the market after dark, but Cloud's firm. The boy sulks the whole way back. Genesis isn't as vocal, likely to help Cloud out a bit, but Cloud can feel him sulking about as much behind him. They pick the dry laundry up from Marge and head home.

Tifa's already got dinner on the stove, prepping some of the bar's food on the counter, and Marlene is playing with the dominoes Cloud carved from metal a while back. Denzel hurries over to join her, his fugue over leaving the market almost instantly dissipating. Tifa announces that Genesis has clothes upstairs, and the redhead thanks her profusely before he heads upwards. Cloud tracks him with his eyes and ears, listening to his heartbeat through the walls.

"Good day?" Tifa asks curiously, likely because Cloud is just standing in the middle of the room.

"Yeah. Marge is doing okay. Need to stop by more often. I'll probably have to do a delivery for Gunther in a couple days." Cloud starts moving around the room to set tables up. Opening hour is coming up. "I'll—"

There's a thump from upstairs, and a vacancy. Cloud holds a hand out for Tifa to stay and rushes up the stairs, faintly hearing Tifa tell the kids it's fine, and bursts into the guest room.

Genesis top half is splayed over the bed with his back to the door, clad in new sweatpants, shirt looped around one arm like he was in the middle of putting it on. He's on his knees, might've felt it coming and tried to get towards something soft. Shit.

Cloud shuts the door behind him and quickly lifts him up, holding him aloft with one arm around his waist as he pushes pillows together against the headboard. He settles Genesis against them as gently as he can. Tifa quietly assures the kids downstairs that nothing's amiss, Cloud's just making sure Genesis's clothes are fitting alright. Bless that woman.

Cloud resets his stopwatch, mentally adds thirty seconds for the time he took getting up here and situating Genesis, and waits. Waits. Sits on the edge of the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees, bouncing his leg. Waits.

Genesis takes a breath after two minutes and forty seven seconds, then immediately coughs. Cloud quickly glances around the room, curses when he realizes there's no water nearby, then focuses on helping Genesis sit up so he can breathe.

"Got you," Cloud says softly, because it usually helps him, to hear a voice nearby when he's fresh out of a nightmare. Not that literally dying would be the same but—well, the principle should apply, right?

Genesis keeps coughing for longer than Cloud's comfortable, and Cloud doesn't hear any liquid in his lungs, but it stays concerning. Cloud holds his shoulder tight and makes sure he doesn't curve in on himself too hard, but it's about all he can do. Each cough rings hard in Cloud's ears. Tears start leaking from Genesis's eyes with the force. Shit.

"Easy," Cloud says once Genesis can finally breathe.

Well, 'breathe' is a delicate way to put it. He's taking deep, gulps of air, and one of his hands flops around, limp at the wrist, until it finds the arm Cloud has across his front. He doesn't grasp Cloud. Just lays his hand there, like it's all he can do while he finally evens out enough to breathe through his nose on a five count.

"Shit," Genesis breathes out moments later. Cloud grunts in agreement. "Caught me off guard. How long?"

"Two minutes and forty. Did you feel it coming on?" Cloud asks first, mind already whirring with finding a way to predict it next.

"Give me a second, I-I'm still a bit scattered," Genesis says breathlessly. Cloud's still holding him, one arm around his back and the other around his front. Genesis's fingers curl around his forearm. "Am I—"

There's a knock at the door. Cloud's grip on Genesis's shoulder tightens once before he gets up, going to the door and opening it a crack.

"I heard coughing," Tifa greets, glass of water in hand. Her eyes are concerned, but she only does a half glance at the door, making no move to come in. "He okay?"

"He's steady now," Cloud confirms, taking the water with a nod. "Might be a second before we come back down."

"Take your time." Tifa says it a bit louder, likely for Genesis's benefit, and gives Cloud a firm look. Take care of him. He nods back and she turns, making her way back down the stairs.

Cloud shuts the door gently and returns to the bedside, sitting down and offering the glass to Genesis. Genesis thanks him quietly, but his fingers slips when he tries to grasp the glass. He groans quietly, frustrated, and Cloud lifts it to his lips instead. Genesis doesn't look happy about it when he drinks from it.

"Better?" Cloud confirms when Genesis has finished the glass. Genesis's replying grunt is noncommittal.

"I wasn't ready for it like I thought," Genesis murmurs, words bitter and eyes cast down. "I thought it wouldn't…"

Cloud can't pretend to understand what Genesis intended to end the sentence with. He doesn't know what to say to make something like this better, something neither of them can change. This isn't the first time he's wanted to yell at the Planet for making stupid shit, or letting shit happen, or being too dumb of a rock to listen. This isn't the first time Cloud's realized that none of the things he wants to do will change much.

"I'll be here," is what Cloud says, because it's the only thing he knows is true.

Not you'll be okay or it'll get easier or we'll be ready next time. Fate loves to prove him wrong too much. Cloud hates making promises he can't keep, so he should probably stop making them on the fly like this, to people he's only known for a couple of days. At least he's pretty good at them.

The words must not be a bad decision, because Genesis sighs, slumping as the breath leaves him. It reeks exhaustion. Cloud stays in place though. Kids in the house have made him a little better at the comfort thing.

"Thank you," Genesis whispers, pulsing his grip on Cloud's arm. "I…thank you."

Cloud nods even though he's out of Genesis's sight, and he stays. He also dutifully ignores the fresh tears on Genesis's cheeks when Cloud gives him space to finish getting dressed, leaning on the wall by the door. They head back down together, Genesis returning the glass to Tifa with thanks. Genesis leads, to Cloud's surprise, and explains to the kids that he seems to have a condition that makes him faint at random. The kids take it in stride; Genesis isn't the first person they've met with a chronic condition. Marlene shyly volunteers pillows. Genesis gets the same look Cloud sees on old ladies that want to pinch Marlene's cheeks. He manages to restrain himself when he declines, though.

Cloud watches Genesis for the rest of the night as regulars pour in, only parting to put the kids to bed, returning just to lurk behind the bar and covertly listen in as Genesis chats up the room. Cloud doesn't really absorb any of it. He's listening more to the cadence of Genesis's voice, trying to gauge its normal levels in case it changes when he has a death coming on.

No one should be alone for that, is the new thought Cloud attributes to Genesis from there on out.

No one.

—

Cloud takes the liberty of making some calls.

While Marlene and Denzel are bummed about it, the fact remains that Genesis can't stay with them forever. He could, but the 'guest' room is also half of Cloud's workshop. That and Cloud's not comfortable with the guy that can die any second having a door that leads him right to the stairs. Doesn't matter if he's going to come back. They can't depend on a bed always being nearby.

This is proven when, the next day, Genesis's death hits him right in the middle of dinner. Tifa is across the bar and manages to dart forward to keep his face from falling in his food, and Cloud's gathering his limbs together and hauling him up the stairs within a few seconds. Genesis has a coughing fit again. Tifa drops water off. Cloud helps Genesis get his heavy limbs into new clothes, because he somehow sweat straight through the first set. Cloud ends up bringing Genesis his dinner when they quickly discover that the strength in his freckled legs isn't coming back as fast as they'd prefer.

So yeah. No stairs, not for anywhere he's staying long term. Cloud makes a lot of calls.

Tifa keeps catching his eye while he's on the phone, polishing glasses and giving him knowing looks. Cloud ignores it. Whatever she's implying, he's not getting, so he's not entertaining her by asking what her deal is. He can see that she's waiting on it. He doesn't care. Whatever. She can keep it to herself.

Cloud postpones Gunther's delivery order with sincere apologies, offering to do a second delivery at half price whenever he's next available. Gunther has no complaints. With that, he clears out his first week, which is mostly Cloud showing Genesis around, Cloud and Genesis brainstorming, and Cloud slowly learning that, yes, he does actually enjoy the man's company.

He's unique, he's opinionated, he's a curious critic at heart. He's exhausted every time he wakes up from a death, and Cloud starts dropping him on the bed whenever Genesis tries to thank him. It gets the redhead to laugh and also gets him to stop thanking Cloud, so he'll take the win.

The best call he gets is from Josie, Edge's one and only boutique owner. He picks it up right after Genesis has gotten enough mobility in his legs to bend his knees, settling on the ground next to the bed.

"You keep this low, now, but I'm moving in with Yvonne," Josie informs him. A long and low breath comes between her words; she's puffing something over there, probably hanging off the boutique's balcony on the second floor. Much as she smokes, she can't stand the smell sticking to her clothes. "Was gonna extend my shop into that back half, get the Konba boys to fix it up for me, but if it can get some use you can have it."

"Can it fit two?" Is Cloud's immediate concern.

"If you don't mind sharing some elbow room, for sure." Fabric rustles. Another puff. "Though I was also going to ask the boys to knock out the back wall and extend it. Nothing but scrap on the backside. Can add another two hundred square feet that way."

"Good deal." Cloud mentally does some tallies in his head, glancing up at Genesis. Genesis is watching him, leaned on his elbow near the bed's edge. "How much you want for it?"

"I want first crack, that's what I want." Cloud's groaning by the time she's chuckling at him, closing his eyes and pinching his brow. "Come on cutie, who's this new flame I'm hearing about with eyes like yours?"

"A friend," Cloud grits out. He refuses to open his eyes and watch Genesis's doubtlessly amused reaction to this line of questioning. "Seriously, how much."

"First two months on the house if you tell me why you're moving in with him," Josie continues to needle.

"I'll blab about you and Yvonne. Give me a rate and I'll pay it."

"Oh fine, but you're taking the damn freebie, Strife, I'm not stretching you out." A pause, and a deep inhale. "How ‘bout this, I’ll met you halfway. Been short on help. Can the man work?"

Cloud lets go of his brow and glances up. Genesis has a smirk playing on his lips, which Cloud saw coming, but he shrugs with the shoulder he isn't leaned on before he nods. Then he mouths, 'You can tell her'. Cloud stares at him, hesitating, but Genesis shoos him on with his free hand. So Cloud puts the phone back to his ear with a clear of his throat.

"He can work. You'll probably get along." Cloud clears his throat when Genesis hums in apparent agreement. "Josie. Keep it low. He has bad fainting spells. Needs an extra somebody around, and that’s me for now. Temporary until we get him something better."

"Oh. Shit. Well. Mum's the word." Long exhale. "Swing by in the morning time, I'll give you two a tour. I'll go on call the boys too, sounds like you'll need the space. Had an aunt that used to fall bad all the time, and I know you gotta have room for something like that."

"Foot me the bill, Josie," Cloud warns her. She laughs at him.

"You'll get half and get Tifa to do me some free refills, how about that?"

Cloud grunts, discontent, but they’re about as stubborn as each other. He knows she won’t budge. “Good deal."

"Then good deal. Sleep well, sweetie."

Josie kisses at the phone before she hangs up, more out of habit than any sentiment in it. At least Cloud thinks so. He knows she does it on the phone with Tifa too, at least.

"You don't have to do that," Genesis says softly once Cloud's shoved his PHS back in his pocket.

"Do what?" Cloud asks, because playing dumb when people don't want him to do things for him is how he gets away with it best.

"Come on," Genesis scoffs, which is the usual response. "Cloud, I just watched you make arrangements to move out of your home to come stay with me somewhere else. You don't have to do that."

"Who else is going to?" Cloud says point-blank. "Anybody around that would do it free is too old to catch you. Anybody qualified is expensive and will check your pulse."

"Cloud, we can't do this forever."

"Do you have a better idea?"

The silence rings. Cloud's voice raised on that. He…didn't mean to do that. He hears the covers rustling behind him, and then one of Genesis's legs lower at his side, freckled calf stretching as he taps at the ground. Cloud scoots over and lets a hand hover upwards as Genesis slowly lowers himself down. Not touching him, but ready to catch him if his strength fails.

Genesis settles on the ground with a sigh. Cloud looks away once he's settled.

"This is a lot to do for me, Cloud. You do know that?" Genesis's voice is so much closer, but no louder. "Be honest with me. Why are you doing all of this?"

Cloud pauses. There's probably a simple answer to this question, but for some reason, it doesn't feel very much in reach. There's not one he thinks he can put in words. Not one that…

He'll hate you one day, Cloud's brain reminds him brutally, He'll hate you, but he doesn't deserve to be alone.

There's no answer that lets Cloud keep helping him. Genesis won't want to be near him once he knows the truth. This is Cloud's only choice.

"I have to," Cloud murmurs back. "Let me do this for you. Please."

Cloud can't look at him. Genesis breathes steadily, but Cloud can hear the way his heart rate spikes, can feel the eyes boring into the side of his head.

"I hope you realize I'm not dumb, Cloud," Genesis says upfront, honest as ever. He pushes to his feet, and only then does Cloud glance up, past his freckled legs to the back of Genesis's head. His hair is a little tangled at the nape. Cloud's fingers itch. "You can keep it for now, but I'll get the truth out of you one day."

With that, Genesis walks out—steady, good balance, not a thing to indicate his heart was just dead for five minutes—and leaves the door open behind him. The bathroom door shuts a moment later. Cloud sighs, cards a hand through his hair, and heaves to his feet.

"What's with that look on your face?" Tifa asks him the moment he's downstairs, polishing a glass in her hand.

Cloud glares at her, calling her out for being nosy with his eyes, and she only raises her brows, like she's justified. He huffs at her and sits down at a barstool. He cases the room first. It's coming up on closing hour, two or three older guys lingering that'll see themselves out eventually. Satisfied, he turns back and lowers his voice.

"Talked to Josie. She's got a place Gen can stay." Tifa hums at this, pleased. "Good enough to fit two."

Tifa doesn't look surprised at this detail being mentioned. She's watched him pick out what he's packing, after all. "How'd Genesis react?"

Cloud grunts. "Don't think he's happy with me. Asked why I'm doing it all."

"And what'd you tell him?"

"…Basically nothing."

Tifa sets her glass down and glares at him. Cloud glares back.

"What?" He snaps.

"We've talked about this," she says lowly, leaning on an elbow. She looks unimpressed and disappointed. Cloud valiantly acts like it doesn't affect him as much as it does. "Come on, Cloud, he has a right to know."

"He'll hate me."

Cloud pinches his lips after he says it. He wasn't expecting it to come out as pathetic as it felt, or with a bit of whine in it. Tifa doesn't comment on that, but it probably isn't the mercy Cloud takes it as.

"No, you already hate yourself over it, and you're pushing that onto him," Tifa states, promptly proving his point of no mercy being shown. "He has a right to know the full story, and he has a right to feel however he wants about it. You don't get to say how he feels before he can even tell you."

Cloud opens his mouth. Both of Tifa's brows raise. Cloud closes his mouth and grits his teeth, forcing himself to actually process her words this time.

…Oh, shit.

"I'm doing geostigma again," Cloud sighs, exhausted. He wants to bang his head on the table, but settles for setting an elbow down so he can bump his fist against his forehead a few times. He squeezes his eyes shut, frustrated. "Fuck. I'm doing geostigma again, aren't I."

"Yes, you are." Sounds like Tifa picks another glass up, by the slight ring in the air and the rasp of cloth. "And same as before, the longer you let it go on, the worse it'll get."

"Fuck," Cloud repeats, then drags his hand down his face. It rests over his eyes, leaving them in darkness that he decides to stay in for a bit.

Tifa lets him have his moment of silence, a bit more acquainted with how he needs it to process.

They've come some way. And it started with Cloud shutting the hell up and listening to her, then moved to talking to her sometimes while also shutting the hell up and listening to her, and. Well. They're good now. They understand what they want from each other. They have their own way of communicating, and they don't let what other people assume or think they should be affect them. They're not Tifa and Cloud, they’re Tifa and Cloud. That's important to them, and that's what matters.

But they both decided on it.

"Just…" Cloud drops his hand and opens his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek hesitantly. Tifa's eyes are already waiting on him. "I've gotta get him settled first. Then I can tell him."

Tifa's expression drops.

"Cloud," she warns, "putting it off isn't good."

"I know, I know, just—" Cloud puffs a breath and clamps his hands together on the table, gritting his teeth. "I want to make sure he's steady first. In case he doesn't want to talk to me after."

Tifa's eyes are judging. Cloud looks away with a wince. The next few glasses are handled a bit rougher than usual. Cloud waits it out.

"Well." Tifa sets a glass in front of him. It's got a finger of one of his favorite whiskeys, nice rock of ice in the middle. "Is that all?"

Cloud takes it and blinks at her. "Huh?"

"Is that all?" Tifa leans on her elbows and suddenly, there's the glint in her eye Cloud's been ignoring and avoiding the whole week. "I know how your guilt works, but is that the only reason you're helping him out?"

"Don't know what you mean," Cloud says, and he's not lying about that, for once.

She, of course, chooses to say while he's taking a sip, "Last person you waited on hand and foot like this was Aerith."

Cloud doesn't cough his whiskey up, nah, it's too good for that. Instead, he fucks up his swallow and gets some fast tracked to the wrong pipe. He hopes Tifa's satisfied with the solid two minutes he's hacking his fucking lung up. Those two minutes of hacking are also horribly, damningly enlightening, because gods know Cloud's body fucking him up has never stopped him from overthinking.

"Fuck you," is the first thing Cloud manages to choke out. Tifa full body laughs at him. He catches enough of his breath to add, "I don't have it that bad yet."

"But you got it," Tifa giggles. Cloud sighs. "You like them high maintenance and bossy. I knew he was your type the moment he opened his mouth."

"Please shut up," Cloud pleads. He can't even defend himself.

"Nope. I'm gonna do the exact same thing I did before."

"Tifa."

"I'm about to be his bestie," Tifa proudly announces.

This time, Cloud lets his head thunk on the bar and stays there.

—

Cloud's right. Genesis and Josie get along swimmingly. He hadn't expected Genesis to be familiar with fashion, SOLDIER background and all, but Genesis weaves his way through Josie's fabrics with ease. They're speaking each other's language so fast that Cloud's utterly unsurprised when Josie gleefully announces Genesis as hired.

"Oh, you got me a good one, sweetie," Josie smiles at Cloud something like a shark, lips stark red against her black, closely trimmed beard. "Now what the hell is this I'm hearing about you paying the Konba boys three fourths?"

"Tifa got the other bit as a thank you for the dress you gave her for Yuffie's coronation because she never paid you back," Cloud explains quick, because Josie's got a piece of fabric real tight between her hands and Cloud's learned not to underestimate how fast that woman can move. "Wasn't me."

Josie squints at him and huffs, gesturing with two of her long nails that she's keeping an eye on him, but lets it go in favor of giving them the tour. Cloud's notes what modifications he's going to do, asks Genesis if he has any requests, and they have a solid plan. Genesis and Josie shake on it, then Cloud and Josie shake on it, and the deal's done.

The kids hate it immediately. They're the last to know Cloud is moving out, and no matter how temporary he says it is, they stay upset with him for several days. He has to ply them both with sweets and promise he's coming back every single day for at least one meal before they let him give them hugs again. And even that probably wouldn't be possible without both Tifa and Genesis giving testimonies on his behalf. Gods, kids can be brutal.

They aren't rushing at first. Josie's already moved the majority of her things out, so Cloud's very aware that nothing is stopping them but themselves. First it's because the kids are too raw from the announcement. Then it's because Tifa wants to share a few drinks with Genesis while he's still readily available. Then it's because Cloud's wrapping up the shop and garage in a way he knows it will be secure while picking up all the spare keys so Denzel doesn't sneak in and do something.

They get comfortable. Genesis announces he doesn't mind the kids seeing him during his episodes, so Cloud leaves the door cracked instead of shutting it. The kids do pop their heads in occasionally to check on him. Denzel says "He looks dead," and Tifa pops him on the back of the head. Cloud laugh comes out a little harder than he means it to. Marlene, on the opposite end, leaves her teddy for when Genesis wakes up, gently sliding it beneath his arm. She does so with a valiant announcement that she doesn't need to sleep with him, and hasn't had to in a while (bald lie), so Genesis can borrow him. Cloud informs him on the teddy's presence the moment he hears a heartbeat. Along with her lying. There's a smile playing over the redhead's lips before he even opens his eyes.

They weren't rushing at all. They get forced out, really.

"Holy fuck," Cloud whispers when Genesis's heart starts back up. Three in the morning. It’s the first time Genesis has had a death while Cloud was asleep. "Fuck, man."

He doesn't get his moment of silence for long. Genesis coughs so hard his head lifts, and Cloud's pressed for time.

He wordlessly helps Genesis sit up. Holds onto him through the coughing fit. Cloud barely hears Tifa get up and go downstairs. His ears are ringing more from the jolt of panic than from Genesis's rasping coughs.

Cloud waits it out. Tifa opens the door, sets the glass of water on the table closest to it, and goes back to bed. One of the kids—sounds like Denzel, kid sleeps so light—is rustling around. Genesis is still coughing. Hacking. Cloud hears fluid.

That's not good. That's not fucking good.

The bad things are stacking a little high, so Cloud has to make himself slow down and count his breaths. He forcefully clears his mind, careful not to hold onto Genesis too tight as the redhead's throat seizes and his lungs rebel, but Cloud holds on. Genesis's body isn't even strong enough to fight the coughs right now. Cloud can't leave him.

He doesn't time it. He doesn't know how long it takes before it's over. But Cloud's numb when it finally does, gently leaning Genesis back onto the bed. He won't be talking after a fit that bad for at least a few seconds.

Cloud slumps onto the ground, knees first before he thuds down onto his side, closes his eyes, and takes the first deep breath he's had since he woke up. Fuck. Fuck.

"What happened?" Genesis says blearily from above him, hoarse and barely suppressing a cough. The bed creaks as he tries to sit up, then the springs whine when he fails and falls back down. "Cloud? Cloud, are you there?"

"Here," Cloud rasps out. He pushes up, off the ground, and goes for the water first. "Got your water, hold on."

Cloud helps him drink and set the glass aside once it's all gone. In the dark, Genesis's tongue darts out over his lips. Even the shine of his mako eyes is dim. Cloud doesn't like it.

"What happened?" Genesis repeats. He sounds wary, like he knows it's not a good thing to be asking. Cloud doesn't have the energy to put a front up.

"Your heart stopped," Cloud mumbles, dragging his hands down his face and speaking from behind his palms. His voice echoes slightly in its isolation. "Woke me up."

There's a bout of quiet between them. Cloud can still hear liquid in Genesis's lungs. It's getting worse. Cloud doesn't understand why it would be getting worse. Don't Genesis and his damn Goddess have a deal?

Cloud almost laughs at himself. What is he thinking? The Planet only looks out for its own once everybody's screaming. The Planet meant for Aerith to go back to it eventually. Knowing Cloud's luck, he went and took a liking to yet another agent of the Planet doomed for death. Or at least whatever hell it's been putting Genesis through.

"For how long?" Genesis finally asks what Cloud's been dreading.

Cloud doesn't answer, teeth clenched, and head still in his hands. The pause goes for much longer this time.

"Cloud," Genesis presses, voice a little stronger. "How long?"

Cloud's next breath is unsteady.

"I don't know," Cloud whispers. His hands are shaking. Fuck. "You were out for thirteen and twenty six when I got here. I don't know how long before."

It's a big jump. It was getting longer, sure, but it felt gradual before. A minute to three to five to seven. He was averaging around seven and eight for several days now. Cloud can't even disguise it.

This scared the shit out of him.

Too long, is what he wants to say. Long enough your skin got too cold. Long enough I could see you getting paler. Long enough I thought it might be the last time. Too long. Too fucking long.

They're quiet for a long time. He knows that because eventually Genesis pushes himself up to sit back against the headboard, and the time it takes him to recover enough to do that is usually half the time he's dead. Cloud's averaged it before.

"I don't want it to be that bad around the kids," Genesis murmurs softly. "They've seen me for the shorter ones, but this…"

"Yeah," Cloud agrees, voice still hardly above a rasp. "Yeah."

Yeah. That's how they finally move out.

—

It's not like it's hard. Genesis informs Cloud that the SOLDIER dorms for Thirds were much smaller, and Cloud counters that the infantry was four to a space and small besides. Roommate misery contest aside, they've already cohabited for over a week, so their rhythm practically finds itself. Cloud gets the bathroom first, Genesis gets his coffee before Cloud drains the pot, Cloud keeps Genesis from cracking his head on the kitchen tile when he dies. Normal roommate stuff.

They both adjust fast, but Genesis adjusts faster. He loves the boutique, takes to it like a fish to water. Josie lets him pick from the clothes too, claiming he's a free model, and…Cloud can't say she's wrong. Genesis looks cut from a magazine no matter what he's wearing. He goes from slacks and loose blouses to dresses with pumps to tight leather pants and mesh tops. The day Genesis wears block heels with the leather pants and walks into their apartment shirtless almost gives Cloud a heart attack, but he survives. Don't get him started on Genesis wearing blue. If it's blue and shows skin, where Cloud can see how stark his freckles are against the color—

Cloud has a cold shower pretty much every damn day.

Rght, and how's Cloud doing? Cloud is…going a little stir crazy.

Don't get him wrong. It isn't bad living with Genesis. Sure, Genesis favorite watch is drama, and he has a weird thing where he doesn't put tops all the way back on when he returns stuff to the fridge, (what the hell is with that?), but he's not a bad guy to live with. Ironically, after Genesis's death, they have the calmest conversations. They try to make it feel like something normal. It is their normal. Might as well move around it.

Genesis tells him about really being a SOLDIER. Cloud, hesitantly, opens up about being a lab rat, how he doesn't quite remember it, but that he's one of the living examples of the bullshit Hojo did. Genesis doesn't look at him any differently after. He grasps onto Cloud's hand and doesn't let go, though. Cloud's heartbeat is in his ears and he's sure he's blushing something stupid, but it's nice. He ends up telling Genesis a bit more than even Tifa knows. More about Zack.

Genesis has a moment of recognition come over his face when Cloud says the name and…honestly, Cloud's borderline desperate to ask. He can hardly remember when Zack was a SOLDIER. He wants to know if Genesis remembers him, if Genesis was his superior, what he remembers about him. But Genesis doesn't say anything.

Cloud doesn't ask. What kind of hypocrite would that make him?

It's not bad living with Genesis. Cloud's not bored either, not at first, even though his delivery service is the slowest it's been pretty much ever. Working with the Konba boys, Jarod and Kula, is a good week of work. It's faster with a SOLDIER that can balance metal beams on his shoulder and perfectly size up anything put in front of him. It's done in no time, really, and Cloud presents it to Genesis as a gift when he gets off of work. Brand new bedroom. Genesis is excited, if a bit tired when he walks in to explore.

He also gives Cloud a fucking heart attack almost twisting both ankles in his pumps when he dies. Genesis's joke of the night, once he can talk properly, is that the new bedroom is to die for. Cloud watches him laugh until he chokes, then waits a few seconds for spite before he gets up to refill Genesis's glass with water.

Cloud's not bored, no, but getting stir crazy was inevitable after the first week. Cloud knows he isn't made for it. Being in one place for too long, he means. But it doesn't matter that both Josie and Genesis have him on speed dial. Whenever he leaves, the anxiety follows. There's no time estimate that's reliable. It can happen any second. Cloud can be away for a total of ten minutes before he's itching to go check on him, because fuck, a call wouldn't be enough. Cloud has to lay eyes on him.

The best cure is to take quick drives over to 7th Heaven with Genesis, usually on his lunch break, to catch up with the kids and Tifa and mess around in his garage a bit. He's started getting that itch he does for a drive, but the idea of it never sits for longer than a few seconds. He can't leave. Not yet.

A voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Tifa tells him that this isn't good, and that means something, and Cloud needs to get some shit straight. Cloud hears the voice, even sees the real Tifa give him pointed looks behind Gen's back, he just…

Not yet, Cloud keeps saying to himself. Get him steady first. Then tell him.

The problem with that is…

Genesis isn't getting better.

His deaths get longer. Genesis reaches a point he can feel when they're coming on, and they get a bracelet he can click that makes a matching set on Cloud's wrist light up. That alone helps them get him out of the boutique and into bed before it happens, and starts preventing a lot of the fall worries they had before.

How Genesis can tell it's coming on, he conveniently doesn't notify Cloud at first.

Cloud discovers how he knows when the how gets worse. Which means he finds Genesis leaned against a wall in the apartment, sweating bullets, only one shoe off, makeup running with tears.

Cloud has to bite his tongue hard that day. Why didn't you tell me, when he's wiping Genesis's makeup off while he's gritting his teeth through pain. Why didn't you tell me, when he's gently undressing Genesis from his tights and belt and gorgeous red sundress, pointedly avoiding looking at his skin as he redresses him in shorts and a soft shirt. Why didn't you tell me, almost falls off his lips when Genesis's heart stops and Cloud watches the tension leave Genesis's brow. He doesn't like how it looks like a release.

That's the first time Genesis's death breaks twenty minutes.

Cloud doesn't ask, because he's trying not to be a hypocrite, but it must be written all over him. Genesis is uncharacteristically quiet as they do their standard after-the-fact routine. Cloud refuses to be the one to break the silence. It angers him, because he doesn't know how long Genesis has been feeling pain before it happens. Cloud doesn't know how many days he could've spared Genesis that pain, how many days he could've done something to make it better. It pisses him off that he couldn't do something sooner.

Cloud leaves him in the bed and goes to finish up the dishes so he doesn't say something stupid. He scrubs harder when he hears tentative footsteps exit the bedroom.

"Cloud?" Quiet and hesitant.

Cloud doesn't turn around. He scrubs the pan in his hands harder.

"Cloud, that's not fair," Genesis accuses right after. He sounds hurt. Cloud's not turning around. "Cloud, come on, just…"

Whatever Genesis means to say, he never gets out. It's replaced with a frustrated noise followed by a series of stomps, and the bedroom door slamming. Cloud scrubs, and scrubs, and scrubs, and—

A deafening crack stops him. He looks down into the sink. He. He cracked the fucking pan.

Cloud takes a long, deep breath. Pulls it out of the water, sets it on the counter. Observes the damage long enough to determine he'll have to replace it. Dries his hands and makes sure he didn't cut himself.

Then he crouches, bites his fist, pinches his nose, and screams without a sound.

Chapter Text

About a week later, Tifa and Genesis want a girl's night. Genesis's death happened in the early afternoon, twenty two minutes and three seconds, which means he doesn't have to deal with any lingering soreness by the time they get over there. Genesis goes upstairs to catch up with the kids, his overnight duffel over his shoulder, and Cloud sticks around downstairs.

"Where's Marie?"

"She's coming, Cloud," Tifa says with pointed patience, sending him a chiding look. "She's young."

"She's your help. That you're paying for." Cloud huffs, sending a critical glance at the door. "I've been gone all day and got here sooner than her. She can't be early for a shift? Help you on the taps?"

"She's new to it, Cloud, she'll catch on. Have a little patience, hun."

"New to it is two weeks. It's been a damn month. She knows what time you open and what'ya need to do. Lot less pain for both'a'ya if she just got here before—"

"You have an accent," Genesis voice suddenly pipes up, and Cloud honest to god jumps before he locates Genesis on the staircase. He's in something new, fluffy and blue, shorts and a long sleeved shirt. It's gaping. It's off one of his shoulders entirely, which draws Cloud's eye about as much as the gleeful look on his face. "You have a country accent. How have I not heard this before?"

Cloud feels dumbstruck. He doesn't think Genesis has looked at him with a smile like that since…

Well hah, fuck you, gaping baby blue shirt, Cloud lives with your owner and has gotten acclimated to his skin-showing style. He's developed a tolerance to that much freckled skin being on display. Cloud's calm and collected in the face of this shit.

"Uh," comes out of Cloud's mouth. Real eloquent. Tifa slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes already crinkled with the laughter lines of a goddamn traitor. "No I don't."

Oh, fucking smooth.

Tifa starts downright laughing at him, and Genesis's giggles match her. Tifa made good on her promise. They're partners in crime. Cloud needs to start checking his hair for grays. Genesis works his way down the stairs, all soft smiles and soft fabric and all Cloud can think is oh shit, not already, no, come the fuck on.

Genesis and Tifa keep teasing him and Cloud keep standing there like he's dumb. He leaves them be and goes and works out his emotions where he does it best: in the garage, with Tsurgi on the table, oiling the gears and sharpening the edges.

The last time Cloud was in love with someone, she died. Now, Cloud is in love with a man that never stops dying. He must have a kink for it. He's just a sucker for punishment, yeah? Fucking LOVES when it hurts.

He varies wildly between morose and pissed off about it and ends up working on little projects he hasn't touched in years, thanking his past self for putting sound proofing in the walls early one. He isn't tortured by Genesis's laughter any more than he has to be, and by that he means it's already echoing enough in his mind. The way he leans on Cloud when a death has really taken it out of him. The way he shuffles in his pumps when he's rushing out the door. The way his hair fans across his pillow when Cloud lays him down, the hazy look in his eyes never stopping him from watching Cloud. The way he pops his hip when he's eating something over the counter, scrolling his new PHS and announcing new Junon gossip. The way he ugly cries during his stupid dramas. The way he is.

Yeah. Cloud's got a lot to hammer out in his shop. He's getting his money's worth off that sound proofing.

Cloud doesn't look up when the door opens. He, foolishly, assumes it's Tifa for a solid thirty seconds. Then his ears reach past the metal he's drilling a hole into and lock onto a heartbeat he knows inside and out, and he freezes.

"I would like to ask something selfish of you."

Cloud puts his tools down without missing a beat, wiping his hands off on the nearest rag. Which might be a shirt. Doesn't matter, his hands are clean and he's facing Genesis where he's leaned against the door jamb.

This is the first time they've talked since…then. Talked properly. They can't do a day without saying something to each other, they have to, and Cloud's not so cruel that he's going to help Genesis up in total silence after a death if Genesis wants to talk. But it's been small things. Chores. Keeping up about Edge's going-on's. The kids, Josie and Yvonne, Cloud installing a tub at some point.

Not a talk. So Cloud sets everything aside and makes way.

"Okay," Cloud says evenly, trying not to betray the speeding of his heart. Sue him—he gets a bit eager to have something solid to do for the people he cares about. Loves. What the fuck ever. "What's up?"

Genesis visibly hesitates. Cloud's having none of it—he gets off the stool and gives it a cursory dust off, gesturing Genesis to sit down. It's almost comical, how different Genesis looks sitting on his work stool, all soft blue PJs and freckled skin, surrounded by a supernova of metal and grease. Cloud sort of likes it. For all the contrast, it's nice having Genesis in his space. Even if Cloud sort of wishes he had a blanket to give him.

"I don't think I've done a very good job hiding that it hurts," Genesis blurts.

Cloud doesn't need an intro to know what it is.

"No, you haven't," Cloud confirms.

"I…"

Genesis looks honest to god nervous, which in itself is nerve wracking. Cloud steps a bit closer, and with more confidence than before, grasps Genesis's shoulder. He massages his thumb into muscle gently as Genesis takes another bracing breath. They've had a lot of skin contact over the past month. This is nothing.

"Goddess, don't I feel childish for it," Genesis forces out in a rush, "but I don't want to hurt."

Cloud loses a little bit of the wind in his chest, but…he gets it. Being sick of hurting. Feeling like you don't have the right to be sick of it. That, he knows. He doesn't let his hand stop its movements. Genesis closes his eyes into the back and forth of Cloud's hand, lashes fluttering. Cloud's heart aches a little from the sight.

"If you wanted it to hurt, I'd put you down," Cloud jokes, trying to loosen things up a bit.

Genesis's mouth hardly twitches though. Cloud stares at him for a few moments, mind frozen in the moment his joke fell flat, until the world starts moving and he understands.

"No," Cloud says immediately, reeling back and away, chest becoming a mass of things his head can't keep up with. "No."

"Cloud," Genesis says gently, ever so gently, reaching out for him. "Cloud, listen."

"You're fucking mad," Cloud spits, jerking away from Genesis's hand so harshly he almost trips over his own boots. Cloud's barely got his legs under him, standing there panting, looking down at Genesis with wild eyes. "The hell is wrong with you? Why the hell would you ask that?"

"Something isn't right!" Genesis interrupts before Cloud can really get into it. Cloud bites his tongue and yields. "Cloud, I'm not recovering."

Cloud crosses his arms and projects with every inch of his being that he does not like this. Then he leans against Fenrir and stares, waiting for Genesis to continue.

"I think something is wrong," Genesis says softly, like he thinks Cloud's going to spook. And shit, he might. "It was never like this before. It was never…good, but it wasn't this bad. My rebirths always made me come back better. Something is wrong."

"Right. And me killing you is the way to fix it. Gen, what the hell," Cloud snaps. Unable to stay still, he pushes up and starts pacing. "I can't—what's the logic here?"

"It might, I don't know, it might—"

"You don't know?"

"Cloud, we have to try something!"

"I'm not doing this!" Cloud wants to lash out, wants to hit something, but settles for whirling around and stomping his way back to Genesis. Genesis stares at him with wide eyes as Cloud looms over him, fingers twitching with the urge to grab, but he's better than that, curls his hands into fists instead. "I have done everything fucking possible, gave you anything you fucking needed, but I'm not doing that! You're not making me."

"I haven't made you do anything! You chose to do everything you've done, and I never asked for that!" Genesis bursts, launching up from the chair and forcing Cloud to take a step back. "You won't even tell me why you do any of it! Don't put this on me! I asked for one thing, when we met, and that was a place to recover. YOU did the rest of this! Not me!"

"You never told me no," Cloud grits. Genesis reels back and stares at him like he's crazy.

"Don't you even start that shit," Genesis hisses back, eyes blazing. "Don't act like I'm responsible for your actions. Don't act like anything put us here but you."

"What, like I'm the only one keeping secrets?" Cloud barks a mirthless laugh, and Genesis flinches. Not much, but enough for Cloud to see. "I know you remember Zack. I'm not the only one keeping shit under wraps."

"Zack was the protege of my childhood friend and fellow commander, Angeal Hewley. We did not get along. I started calling him puppy as a joke, then Angeal picked it up as a nickname, which annoyed the shit out of me." Genesis rattles it off rapid fire, like he was waiting to say it all, and Cloud's somewhere between stuck in his angry spiral and smacked stupid. "Zack annoyed me. He had a heart of gold and was always cracking stupid jokes and grunted obnoxiously loud when he did his stupid squats. I caused the SOLDIER equivalent of a civil war, and we were on opposite sides, and I was cruel to him out of spite, and then he was…"

Genesis loses steam, his shoulders wilting a little. His heart is pounding loud, louder than Cloud's own, or maybe that's just Cloud's habit of listening to Genesis's much closer.

"He was kind to me, in the end," Genesis whispers. "I would've killed him if given the chance, and when he had it, he let it go. Gave me a second chance instead. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be alive at all. I owe him. That's why I'm…I'm trying to make the best of this. To make this a life I can stand, because he saw something worth giving a second chance to, and I want to prove him right."

Cloud stares. Genesis takes a deep breath, and when he closes his eyes, twin tears roll down his cheeks. Cloud's anger feels so far away. Everything feels so far away. He's numb in his chest and legs and shaky fists.

"There. Your answer." Genesis harshly pushes out the breath he took, and when he opens his eyes, his gaze is hard. "Your turn."

Cloud can't open his mouth. He wants to. This would be the time. If he could just get the courage, and the words, and open his fucking mouth and tell him, then this would be the—

"That's what I fucking thought," Genesis spits, then he turns on his heels, slings the door to the bar open, and slams it shut behind him.

Cloud stands there, still facing the space where Genesis was standing in front of him. He doesn't know how long he's standing there. In a daze, he stumbles over to the door and sets his hand on the door knob. He cracks it, then can't make himself take another step.

He stands there and listens to Genesis's heartbeat. Genesis and Tifa's voices swim in his ears, intertwining with each other, all the words meaningless. It's mainly Genesis's heart he listens to. Steady, if a bit fast, when he goes behind the bar. Slows a bit after several slams of glasses, then picks up speed just as fast with the SOLDIER metabolism doing its job. Cloud stands there until Genesis's heartbeat goes upstairs, settling in the bed that Tifa never took the sheets off of. Just in case. Tifa's heart lingers downstairs, not as well learned as Genesis's is to him but just as familiar. Tifa lingers, maybe waiting on Cloud to emerge, but she eventually goes upstairs too.

Something in Cloud finally gives way.

In minutes, he's suited up on Fenrir and peeling away from the city, shedding all the emotions whirling in his chest until he's nothing but kicked up dust and whipping wind.

He rides for hours. Switches between pavement and dirt, just to keep himself on his toes. He takes whatever beating the wild gives him, and takes the same from the man-made roads. It feels vindictive. Feels right. Better than all the bullshit he's been doing.

He got comfortable, is the issue. Living with Genesis. Having his attention, basking in his light, sharing with him and caring for him and loving him. Gods, Cloud must've been doomed from the beginning. Loving him. It was always going to have to end eventually, and he knew that from the moment Genesis said Sephiroth's name, yet he still didn't let go.

But, (it takes around two hundred miles for Cloud to say this): he's better than running away. Cloud's better than that, has been working to be better than that, for a couple of years now. He got the worst of it out, had his cry, (how long that lasted is between him, his shades, and the wind), and he's got to face the music eventually.

He turns around right as the sun rises. Should be plenty of time for him to get back.

Except, right around when Midgar's shell is visible in the distance, Cloud gets a crawl up his spine. He checks his rear views first, because that's usually it. Something trying to sneak on him. He puts a finger on the pull that releases Tsurgi's blades and waits.

Nothing attacks. Cloud's going a decent speed for once, and slides over from the silty dust onto the paved highway with a slight tilt. The feeling doesn't go away. It never gets worse, but the fact it isn't going away automatically makes it worse. Cloud doesn't like it. He starts counting down the mile markers, the signs counting backwards the closer he gets to Midgar.

On ten, he's wary. By five, he's ready to pull his PHS out and call Tifa, but barely restrains himself. He's not far out, and he holds out until three, where he convinces himself it won't be long and he'll go straight to the bar. Just close enough to hear his heartbeat. Just close enough to know—

He hits the one mile mark, and the bracelet on his wrist lights up red. Cloud's heart drops. Cloud's head blanks out.

He guns it.

—

Last time he downright let Fenrir fall for the sake of speed is when he fought Sephiroth's triplets from hell. Now, Fenrir falls in front of 7th Heaven as Cloud sprints inside and up the stairs, reflexes the only thing keeping him from banging against every possible surface on the way up.

He doesn't process the crying until he's in the doorway.

Cloud stands there panting, his shadow cast over the room. Genesis is curled up in the bed, like he does when the pain is worse in his chest than his limbs, arms wrapped around himself. His heartbeat is gone, his bracelet still blinking, the baby blue PJ set replaced with…oh.

Cloud's old shirt and shorts. A set he left here. Fuck.

Tifa's on her knees next to the bed, crying into her arms, her hair messily fresh from her sleep braid. Cloud just missed it. Just barely.

"How long?" Cloud asks anyways, just to be sure.

Tifa's still crying. Cloud stalks forward and kneels next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders gently. She starts sobbing harder and Cloud shushes her, gently as he can. Fuck. He should've thought about this. Shouldn't have left. Fuck.

"I'm sorry," Tifa starts trying to choke out between her sobs, gripping the collar of her sleep shirt too tightly. It's one of Cloud's old ones, too. "Cloud, I-I-I don't know what happened, I t-thought I was—"

"I know, it's okay," Cloud soothes, rubbing her shoulder and, gently, trying to pull her away. He gives up on getting a time estimate from her. She moves where he leads her, getting to her feet when he pulls. Which. Isn't a good thing. "Hey, it's okay—"

"Cloud, he's dead!" She wails, and the sobs overcome her from there. Cloud's the only thing holding her up, and he accepts he's not going to be able to console her much from here, but fuck, he really doesn't want to leave Genesis now, and—

"Gen's dead?"

Cold water rushes down Cloud's spine. Tifa chokes on her next sob, immediately shoving her fist against her mouth. Cloud slowly looks over his shoulder.

Denzel's standing in the doorway, eyes wide and lip trembling. Marlene's standing behind him, dragging her teddy, sleep still in her eyes.

"No," Cloud says slowly, and Tifa's head snaps to him. "He's just asleep."

"Then why'd Tifa say he was?" Denzel shoots back, even with his eyes starting to water. Brave boy. Cloud's heart breaks a little.

Granted, it's a good chance to try to explain things, if Cloud can get anything out before another pair of waterworks starts.

"Because sometimes, when Genesis sleeps, his heart stops," Cloud says calmly, leading Tifa towards the doorway. She sniffs, glancing at him confusedly, but swallows the worst of it down for the kids' sake. "It's been taking him longer to wake up lately, and that's scary. It just caught Tifa off guard."

Cloud would bet good gil that some of Tifa's crying went away because she's staring at him like he's crazy. They've never actively hid death from the kids before. They explained what happened with Aerith to Marlene, even if it was a softer version. Other kids died during geostigma, some of them Marlene's playmates. Adults in Edge have died, and they've explained it every time.

So yeah. Cloud can see from the corner of his eye that Tifa is looking at him like he's lost it. But the kids are developing some belief in their eyes precisely because Cloud and Tifa have never lied about death before, which is what he was hoping for.

"I'm gonna stay with Gen until he wakes up," Cloud stage whispers, guiding Tifa's hands down to the kids. Like two magnets, Denzel grabs one hand and Marlene grabs the other. "Could you take her downstairs for me? Maybe get some hot chocolate?"

"Before breakfast?" Marlene immediately perks, even though she pronounces it like Cloud's just suggested a cardinal sin.

"Only today," Cloud concedes. Denzel fist pumps with his other hand, and Marlene smiles so toothily Cloud can see where she lost an incisor. Gods, they're growing. "Go on, take care of her for me."

Tifa laughs wetly as the kids proceed to drag her downstairs enthusiastically, Denzel assuring her everything's going to be fine and Marlene announcing, "We'll put extra marshmallows in yours!"

Cloud pushes the door to until there's just a crack of light, smile lingering. Then he turns around, sees Genesis, and sighs.

Cloud touches his skin and it's still warm. He was right. He narrowly missed it. Genesis isn't stiff, so Cloud stretches him out of the doubtlessly pained position, putting extra pillows where Genesis prefers them, one under his legs to make it easier on his back when he wakes up. Denzel's footsteps putter up the stairs at some point, and he pushes inside without a single doubt, leaving a glass of water on the nightstand.

"We made extra hot chocolate, but you'll have to come and get it," Denzel tells Genesis's still face with a properly chiding look. He looks like Tifa's son more often lately. "You're gonna apologize for scaring Tifa, too."

With that, he leaves the room, all but stomping, and shuts the door behind him with a click. Cloud blinks.

…He probably owes Tifa an apology just as much as Genesis does.

Cloud doesn't watch the clock. It doesn't really matter. The biggest fear he had when the bracelet started blinking was that he'd be too late altogether. That Genesis would wake up alone, or with someone who didn't get it, someone who wouldn't bring him water fast enough or help him stretch the stiffness out of his joints. Cloud didn't want to be too late to be there for him when he promised. He's too relieved to care how long it takes. He sits there, Genesis's hand in his, trying to keep it warm even as he knows the rest of him is going cold.

Genesis's heart starts. His chest rises. Cloud is already sitting him up by the time the coughing starts.

His every breath rattles a bit. The fluid in his lungs has gotten worse, and every cough is an honest hack. Cloud holds on to him like he always has, and even though it shakes him every time, even though his own throat and chest seem to pang with sympathy—Cloud's relieved. Cloud's so relieved.

This is about where Cloud realizes he's been really fucking stupid. Like, backwards about how stupid he was even being, that kind of stupid.

He doesn't talk first. He doesn't think he gets to, after the conversation they had when they parted, but he's there. Cloud waits out the coughing fit. Helps Genesis get the water down. Lays him against the pillows, then lifts one leg, massaging feeling back into Genesis's ankle. He's working the other over when Genesis has caught his breath enough to open his eyes and stare at Cloud.

Cloud doesn't know the look Genesis is giving him right now. It makes him want to look away. That's why he doesn't.

"You're here," Genesis croaks. Disbelieving. He thought Cloud wouldn't be.

"Yeah." Cloud swallows and set's Genesis's foot down, thumb swiping one last time over a patch of freckles he's been familiar with. "I can…not be. If that's what you want."

"No," Genesis says immediately, the force surprising Cloud. Genesis's hand twitches at his side, fingers reaching forward. "Stay. Here."

Cloud moves to sit next to Genesis and takes the hand that was reaching, holding it in both of his, warming it best he can. Genesis's eyes, barely open, start to swim with tears.

"Gen. Ask me anything, I'll do it. I'll stay. That's my choice," Cloud says, and he's a bit of a coward for doing it now, when he knows Genesis has to wait for the fluid in his lungs to drain off before he can speak a full sentence.

"But please," Cloud begs, bending down and pressing his head down to their clasped together hands, breathing over their wrists where their pulses meet. "Don't ask me to hurt you. I don't want to."

Genesis's breath still rattles. Cloud's gripping his hand so tight that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Genesis is squeezing back.

"Okay," Genesis murmurs. Cloud smells the salt of tears, and dutifully ignores how much of it is probably from himself. He focuses on holding tight and relishing in Genesis's voice, weak as it is. "Okay."

—

When Genesis walks downstairs, Tifa socks him in the face. Then she hugs him and cries until the shoulder of his shirt is soaked. Once she's done, she does the same to Cloud on both counts.

Cloud and Genesis make eye contact over her head, Genesis's look far more stunned than Cloud's. He probably wasn't expecting it to hurt. Cloud knows better. It stings more than anything, and it won't bruise either of them, but it's a lot more than most un-enhanced people can do. And that's her holding back.

They both owe her an explanation, and they both give her one. The real one. She rips them a new one for so long her Nibel drawl shows up. They both obediently sit through it until she's finished, after which she hugs them both again and says she's going back to bed.

Their day ends up taken up mostly with the kids because of it, which is the least they owe Tifa after a hellscape of a morning. It helps assure them that Genesis isn't gone too, and they're bright as ever once Denzel's gotten to play with a metal slingshot Cloud made and Genesis and Marlene do a few rounds of dress up.

Genesis keeps looking at Cloud, and for once, Cloud doesn't look away. He lets it show a bit more than usual. The concern. The care. The fondness. Genesis is looking at him differently, too, and Cloud takes note of it, even if he isn't sure what it means.

They ride home on Fenrir together. Cloud gets amused at his own thoughts; since when did that little boutique apartment end up being home?

He knows the answer, when Genesis takes his shoes off in the doorway, stretching his back as he heads further inside without a glance back at Cloud. This place could be the middle the a ruin and it'd still be home. Cloud's a fucking sap.

Genesis gets the bathroom first, then comes out with a cloud of steam, his flame-red silk pajamas, and his lotion and body butter in hand. He plops on the couch and turns the TV on without a word, a clay mask setting on his face. Cloud, just as faithful to their routine, slides into the bathroom and does his standard shower. Except a little longer. For courage purposes.

By the time he comes out with a towel around his neck and his standard shorts to shirt combination, Genesis is curled up on the edge of the couch, eating out of an ice cream pint. Cloud takes a deep breath, sucks it up, and sits on the other end.

Genesis ignores him. Fair.

"I'm sorry," Cloud opens quietly.

Genesis's spoon stops. He reaches for the remote and mutes the TV, but he doesn't turn. Cloud swallows and turns to look at Genesis head on, even dares to move closer to him across the couch.

"I owe you an explanation. Two explanations, actually." Cloud's voice goes weak, and he clears his throat, blinking rapidly. Gods, this is it. Time to wreck his entire life, he guesses. "I—"

"Hold on." Genesis stops him with a palm held in front of him then gets up, putting the lid on his ice cream and heading for the kitchen. "We're not having this conversation while I'm in a mask."

Cloud's eyes follow him, stunned, and he nervously laughs. It's pitched oddly enough that Genesis actually sends him a concerned glance. Cloud really wants this over with so he can get rid of the nerves.

He thumps his head against the back of the couch and waits, agonized, through the running water from the bathroom, and the following four steps of Genesis's nighttime skincare. Fuck. He thinks of bailing. Talks himself out of it. Thinks of postponing. Reminds himself he did that for way too long, and it's basically bailing, then talks himself out of it.

He's gone another two rounds of it when Genesis finally returns, skin glowing and smelling like citrus, plopping down on the couch much closer to Cloud than before.

"I'm listening," Genesis hums, hiking his knee up until it bumps against Cloud's thigh. "What is it?"

Cloud clears his throat. "I…"

Genesis is watching him, eyes cautious but body open. He's comfortable. Not happy with Cloud at the moment, but in his element. In their home.

"I…" Cloud tries again. His heart is in his ears. Genesis's head tilts to the side a little.

Cloud looks at him. Really looks at him. He knows how stupid this is. He knows that he needs to just tell him, rip the bandaid off, get it over with for both their sakes. But when Genesis looks at him now, even when there's something off between them, that look. Like he'll listen. That he wants to know. That he'll wait.

It feels like more than Cloud deserves. It feels like something he'll lose the moment he tells the truth.

…Cloud can't do it.

"Fuck," Cloud whispers, turning away and hunching down over his knees. He pressing his palms into his eyes, taking refuge in the darkness and the sparks of pressing pain. "Sorry. Sorry."

Cloud breathes in and out, tries to take it slow. Faintly, he hears rustling on the other end of the couch, then Genesis's warmth is closer. A lot closer. Cloud can feel that there's barely any space between their shoulders and Genesis's thigh is firmly against his, close. Cloud can't look up.

He'll hate me. He'll hate me. He'll hate me.

"That's alright. Deep breaths." Genesis's next breath is held for a moment, but his heart is steady; it catches Cloud off guard when a hand rests between his shoulder blades. "It's okay, Cloud."

"You don't have to tell me that," Cloud groans from the dark. "Don't, don't say it's fine, it's not, it isn't fair to you and—"

You'll hate me. Don't be kind now, you'll hate me.

"Cloud. We'll talk about that in a second. Focus on breathing." Genesis's hand starts going in circles, which is soothing, but also distracting, and Cloud doesn't deserve that. "In and out, Cloud. Don't think. Breathe. Count if you need to."

That's advice Cloud can take. He knows that. Cloud breathes, seven count on the inhale, hold, eight count out. Genesis's hand is there, but that's not really related to him breathing, so he doesn't have to think about it. Cloud breathes. In and out.

The moment he's even enough to no longer count for his breaths, Cloud is exasperated. He doesn't need to look at his watch to know that some ridiculous amount of time has passed, and he can't help the guilt over making this conversation about him.

"Sorry," Cloud says again, prying his hands away from his eyes and blinking the dark away until his vision clears. He turns and is, somehow, still surprised by how close Genesis is to him. Cloud could count the freckles on his face if he wanted. "I didn't mean to make that about me, that's not—"

"Okay, stop," Genesis cuts him off. His eyes aren't exasperated, but they aren't pitying. It's something careful, but not on eggshells. Cloud doesn't know what Genesis is looking at him with. "I'm going to say something, and then you can tell me whatever you feel you need to say, alright?"

Cloud swallows thickly. Uncertainly, he nods.

"We both have emotions going on. One of us feeling one thing does not automatically mean the other has no right to emotions. It means we both need to recognize what belongs to us, and what belongs to the other." Genesis's hand is still between his shoulder blades. Still rubbing, as he doesn't look away from Cloud for a moment. "I'd like to make something clear. I am not upset because you're keeping something from me. I'm upset because it gives the appearance you either don't trust me, don't think I can handle it, or haven't been forthcoming about your intentions. That's something I get to be upset about."

"Yeah," Cloud agrees, swallowing again, nervous. "You do."

"However. Whatever it is, it's upsetting enough that we're here now." Genesis waves his other hand between them, and Cloud assumes that's to encompass the entire pathetic display Cloud just put on. "And, well, you're upset with me too, aren't you?"

"What," Cloud says hoarsely, because being upset with Genesis is the furthest thing from his mind.

"What I suggested. Killing me. You were upset, and you had the right to that. And…" Genesis hesitates now, looking away for a moment and taking a breath. "I…I can admit that was brought about by a lapse of judgment."

When Genesis turns back at him, his gaze is cast down between them. Cloud's never seen him look this uncertain before.

"My issue, Cloud, is that I don't understand. I have watched you take length after length for my comfort, and all I know about you tells me you're a good man." Genesis laughs wryly. "I don't understand, and that's not something I like, and when I am subject to things I don't like I tend to take drastic measures. You've seen how I act when people wear neon yellow."

Cloud snorts and chuckles at the abrupt aside, Genesis laughing softly with him, both of them immediately accosted by a memory of just that. Someone walked into the boutique wearing neon yellow pants and Genesis promptly left the front of the shop, taking a full minute to collect himself before he walked back out. He then did that seven more times over the half hour the woman was in the store. It was Cloud's amusement for the day.

"I want to know. I want to know very badly," Genesis says once they've sobered again. His hand leaves Cloud's back, and this time, rests gently over Cloud's hand where it's rested on his own thigh. "But I don't want to force you to tell me something before you're ready just to satiate myself. I could never want that from you, Cloud."

Cloud processes it all, staring at the place where Genesis's hand rests on top of his. Something about this is distinct. He can feel that they've shifted places from before. It's terrifying. Thrilling. Soothing. Cloud turns his hand over slowly, spreading his fingers and lining them between Genesis's. Genesis grasps his hand first. Cloud's heart is in his throat for a different reason than before.

"I've got issues," Cloud starts, careful with every syllable. "I'm not good, at getting things from my head to my mouth. I want to tell you, because I owe it to you, and you deserve that explanation, but…"

"Cloud. I know a few things for sure. You take care of people whenever you can, and you don't want to hurt me." Genesis's grip pulses on his hand, and Cloud hesitantly looks up to find Genesis's eyes. The soft expression on his face feels like a gut punch. "I believe that. I know that. I know you aren't keeping this secret to hurt me. I just don't know anything else. That's what bothers me."

Cloud nods, then looks back down at their joined hands. His tongue rolls in his mouth as he looks for a response. Genesis doesn't sigh in exasperation; he hums in thought, then taps the back of Cloud's hand in a one-two.

"How about this. You aren't ready to tell me yet. Do you think you could tell me why not?"

Cloud's tongue stops. He tilts his head a little while the thought rolls around.

"If not, then—"

"Hold on," Cloud interrupts this time, because he can work with that, he just needs a second. "I can do that."

He can. This is something he can do, because he's figured out how to do it before. Sort of. It's how he got better at communicating with Tifa. He doesn't feel things one at a time. The biggest parts are never the easiest one to get, but sometimes, if he starts with the smaller things, the big ones get enough space he can figure out how to put them into words. That's something he can do.

"I don't want to lose you. As my friend. As a person." It's a confession of sorts, but Cloud's surprised by how little he minds making it. "You're…you. That matters to me. Being someone you can rely on matters to me."

"Was it always like that?" Genesis sounds curious more than anything. Not accusing. Not surprised. Just curious. "You've done so much for me from the beginning, I've wondered about it."

"Not…really." Cloud hesitates a bit more around this part. It's going to be awkward regardless, but something is likely better than nothing. "I felt guilty. Not because of anything you did, I just…"

"Feel guilty? Yes, Tifa's mentioned something about that," Genesis huffs. Cloud can't laugh about it, but there's a wave of exasperated amusement over knowing they have talked about him. In detail, apparently. "I know you well enough to know you aren't liable to stop feeling guilty, are you?"

"You said it," Cloud replies, trying to make light. Genesis's laughter is dry.

"I hope you know I don't like the idea of being a charity case, Cloud. Not as a tool to make yourself feel better, and not as a weapon to make yourself feel worse. I hope that's not what you're implying to me."

"I'm not. That's not it," Cloud's quick to correct, making sure to look Genesis in the eye for this part. Exposure therapy or something, he's getting better at it. "I helped you because that's something you needed, and I could give it to you, and you deserved that."

"Why?" Genesis head cocks as he observes Cloud like some sort of puzzle. Their hands are still intertwined. Cloud can't make that leave the corner of his awareness. "Why do I deserve it?"

"You—" Cloud stops. He doesn't know how he was planning to end that. He tries to follow it, looking for his own reason. Gods, his head is a mess.

When he finds it, it feels like his head's been dunked under water. He blinks rapidly.

"It's not your fault," Cloud whispers. He's pulling it from somewhere deeper than he expected, something that was broken that hasn't put itself all the way together yet. "This situation. How it hurts. How you can't get away from it. It's something that was done to you, not something you asked for."

Genesis stares at him, and Cloud can watch the shock in his eyes blossom before the redhead pinches his lips thin and stifles it. He even chuckles, wrung out and thin as it is, shaking his head like Cloud doesn't understand.

"I accepted an offer, Cloud. I wasn't powerless. This is to right my wrongs. I want to serve the Planet," Genesis replies. He even squeezes Cloud's hand with a wistful smile. Like it's fine. "This is my silent sacrifice."

"I wanted to be a SOLDIER. Wish got granted, didn't it?" Cloud says shortly. Genesis manages not to recoil, but his smile all but flinches off of his face. "You didn't sign up for this. I can get that. It isn't fair. I can get that. No one should be alone for it. I know that."

Genesis, for the first time, looks lost for words. He keeps opening his mouth and closing it again. Cloud gains a bit of confidence in the words as they come, straightening a bit, tightening his grip on Genesis's hand.

"I want to tell you what I'm hiding some day because you deserve that from me, and you deserve it because it isn't fair to you if I don't." Cloud takes a breath when the self-loathing comes back again, pushing past it to say this one last thing. "You're my friend. I might've helped you out at first because I thought I should, but I do it now because I want to."

With that, Cloud loses his momentum, mind a swirl of adrenaline and emotion but no more words flowing forth. Which is just as well, since Genesis looks properly stunned to silence by it all. It's Cloud's turn to wait.

"I asked you to kill me," is the first thing that comes out of Genesis's mouth. He looks…he looks ashamed now, and Cloud is hit with a sudden curiosity on what was going through Genesis's head before. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm over it. Mostly," Cloud says, and he's being honest. Having to haul ass to get back to Genesis and realizing how potently he needs to be close by—it reorganized some priorities. It hadn't come to mind until Genesis mentioned it earlier on. "I don't get why you thought it was a good idea, but it's fine."

"Again, not understanding your motives wasn't making me the most rational of men. I'm actually a little embarrassed, now." Genesis laughs, and it sounds as nervous as Cloud's been feeling most of the time. "You know I hate this. It's burdensome, not being able to control it, and now the pain on top of it. I've practically made you a nanny. I couldn't fathom it not being frustrating for you, or that you weren't secretly resenting me for chaining you here."

"Why the hell would you think that?" Cloud asks, baffled.

Genesis laughs at him again, rolling his eyes and waving a hand around. "Cloud, do you realize everyone knows how much you love the road?"

Cloud blinks. "Oh."

"Yes, oh," Genesis scoffs, but he keeps laughing good-naturedly about it. "So many people here rely on you and think of you and worry about you. I can't have a single conversation without you coming up. They know how you are, Cloud, and they know you haven't done one of your trips since I got here. I'm pretty sure a few of them think I'm turning into the ball-and-chain they thought Tifa was."

"You're not," Cloud feels the need to clarify. "I've never thought that."

"Doesn't make it any less true," Genesis pushes. "I know how you are, and I know you wouldn't ever say so, but that doesn't make it any less true."

"Well, maybe I'm willing to give it up for now," Cloud counters. "I've been fine."

"You can starve and say you're fine, that's not an indicator," Genesis throws right back. "Maybe you need to admit this is hard on you too."

"Maybe I can handle it."

"Maybe you won't always feel that way."

"Maybe I care about you enough to know I will."

"That's sweet, but maybe me and my needs don't change you and your needs."

Cloud bites his lip before he gets him back, both of them staring at each other with their chests rising and falling hard. They're still holding hands. How are they still holding hands?

"Why am I arguing with you?" Cloud asks suddenly, because he's sort of perplexed by it in the moment of silence. He's holding Genesis's hand. His chest doesn't feel like a mess of emotion. He doesn't feel like the weight of everything he's hiding is looming over them.

"Because you don't know how to take help," Genesis returns without missing a beat. But his lips twitch upwards around the words. "And I don't know how to give up."

Cloud sighs and threads his other hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. He's pretty sure it doesn't hide the small smile he's fighting. The noise of amusement Genesis makes pretty much proves that.

"Cloud," Genesis continues. He squeezes his hand and, this time, the redhead moves over and lays his head on Cloud's shoulder, shifting his legs away to make it easier for their height difference. "You need to drive. Last night was proof. I don't want you giving that up for me. Can I ask that of you?"

Cloud takes far too long to process that words were said, because his entire nervous system hones in on Genesis's warmth against his side. Very distracting. Cloud feels like Genesis is doing this on purpose. He has to be. Genesis isn't dumb. He flirts with customers like breathing, and a lot of those customers flirt back. He has to have caught on that Cloud's a lot sweeter on the redhead than he should be. Dammit.

"That's cheating," Cloud says hoarsely.

Genesis proves him right with another laugh and pointed squeeze of Cloud's hand. "It's called using the weaponry at your disposal."

Oh, he knows. Shit.

"If I say I'll consider it will you let up?" Cloud already sounds strung, but he's currently gauging how far he is from begging. The more he thinks about Genesis's hair tickling his neck—ohhh, not far. From either begging or doing something stupid or somehow passing out because he's blushing too hard.

"You're cute when you're overstimulated," Genesis teases without quarter. Cloud groans and tries to tug his hand away, which Genesis lets go of with a delighted laugh. "Okay, okay, we'll talk later."

Genesis sits up off of him and Cloud practically launches off of the couch. Genesis laughs, but it's not mean, and even though Cloud's ears burn, he doesn't feel as mortified as he could. He feels…satisfied. Like when he finishes something in the workshop, or a bad kink in a project finally got worked out. Some of the tension is gone. No, a lot of it is gone.

And yeah, he's embarrassed as all hell, and Genesis knowing about Cloud really liking him will probably open another can of worms, but for now?

Right now, it's not so bad.

—

It sets in worse the next day. The mortification is much worse the next day.

"He knowsssss," Cloud groans when he manages to get Tifa alone upstairs, head in his hands. "He fucking got me."

"I'm telling you," Tifa chirps without a ounce of sympathy for his plight. "Headstrong and perceptive? Aerith all over again."

"Tifa, please."

"You're a man with a pattern, that's for sure."

"Oh my god, shut the hell up."

Genesis's deaths don't get better. Genesis and Cloud do.

They're different after. That was expected. What blows Cloud's mind is that, just the same as before, it feels natural. It never stops feeling natural, for Genesis to playfully hook a finger in his belt and tug while he walks by. Or for Cloud to end up standing between Genesis's thighs while he's sitting on the kitchen counter in the morning. It feels right to slip into these new positions of sharing the bathroom mirror at the same time, and curling their legs under the same blanket on the couch, and having three different ways of riding Fenrir together.

It feels right. They do it like they've been doing it for a while. That blows Cloud's mind already, and it's not even the revolutionary half.

They fucking talk.

They were doing it before, but it's different now. Stays different, with the hushed voices they talk in now, curled close enough neither has to raise their voice. Nice different, with the time on the balcony of the boutique late at night, elbow to elbow, watching the wind ruffle Genesis's fluffy robe as he laughs brightly against the night sky. Better different.

It's not as scary. Cloud didn't realize until he and Genesis started talking, that talking is something he's been accustomed to experiencing as an event. Talking felt like oncoming dread and a pit in his stomach.

It's not like that with them. Sometimes it's Genesis asking Cloud whether his aversion to anything that feels sticky is because of the labs. Sometimes it's Cloud asking Genesis if he remembers former bits of Midgar that Edge was built on. It feels like making the old things less painful. Cloud didn't know talking could be so small. Or that it could get easier so fast with the right person.

And that seems to cement, as the days and deaths go on. Cloud holds Genesis through minutes of pain and then keeps his body safe through minutes without heartbeat and then helps him come back to life after it all. Cloud doesn't expect to feel so much intimacy through an act that should probably remain clinical. It comes through anyways, when Genesis first breaths become asking Cloud about his day. Cloud will always indulge, and they'll pretend for some time that they both forgot the day Genesis woke up and couldn't remember where he was.

"It doesn't matter," Genesis had consoled Cloud, because Cloud had freaked out a little. The signs of amnesia unsettled him enough to be visible. "I know for certain I can remember you, and that you're supposed to be there. I got confused because I couldn't remember the majority of my day, and I thought we were at 7th Heaven still. It's not an indicator of something larger, Cloud. Just some confusion."

Then they both acted like they believed it. Life goes on and all.

Cloud begrudgingly accepts negotiating off days. It takes weeks for Cloud to get comfortable with leaving Genesis with Tifa, but sometimes right after he dies, that's when Cloud takes a ride. The deaths can get a little fast and loose, but they know for sure that Genesis won't die again less than twelve hours after. That's twelve hours straight that Cloud can ride, then come back with time to spare. It's five rides before Cloud's shaken enough of the anxiety to leave the Wastes. Ten rides before he'll stop checking his phone as often as possible. Twelve when he finally realizes yes, this is helping, and he really did need it.

His life's a little more stressful than before, he'd say. Of course he needs to ride more often. That's the whole point—decompressing all the pressure he builds up. Keeping his secret still bothers him even though he's opening up to Genesis more, and Genesis's deaths take up to an hour and a half out of their days and nights. Each death leaves echoes through the hours after. Genesis likes to watch his dramas after, as something mindless. Usually with a pint of ice cream for indulgences sake. Genesis will recap entire rants he's had before just to know his mouth works like he wants it to. He'll avoid blankets in favor of fluffy clothes and robes to avoid feeling like he's still lying on the bed, unable to move as intended. That, Cloud understands. At some point Cloud tells Genesis exactly how much he understands. They make a solemn pact to use each other as blankets if need be. It's so un-serious Cloud could cry.

Riding is how Cloud indulges himself. He probably needed them all along. It's always been best to think through things or not think of things when it's just him and the wind. He needs it most, probably.

He gets some deliveries started again, though he's careful to space them out. Sometimes it's just nice to have the off nights for the sake of being with Genesis. Plus, he has enough savings to slack a little, and Genesis officially makes enough at the boutique to pay what hardly qualifies as rent. Josie's too sweet on him to charge what the place is worth, but Genesis will bake for her to make up the difference. Cloud would slip her something, but he's…tight in the pockets.

Okay, he's scared of her. He's not great at fighting back if she tries to pull him into the dressing room, and she'll do it out of spite if he reimburses her more than she likes.

Cloud likes how they're changing. Loves it, even. They're not in a bad place to be. But fuck.

The physical affection really gets him sometimes.

See, the facts that Cloud knows cancel out a lot of his emotions about those moments. A fact is that Genesis is a flirt. A fact is that Genesis is partial to hugs and kissing cheeks in greeting and gesturing and surrounding with his presence. He keeps a hand on the elbow of older ladies when he walks with them, if their arms aren't interlocked. He leans into Tifa, stretches his arm behind her if they sit side by side. Cloud's found Marlene sitting on Genesis's back with her hands in his hair. Cloud's also found Genesis and Denzel strewn on their backs across one of the twin beds, Denzel holding his tiny gaming console high so they could see, Genesis's legs hanging off the bed. He's just. A man that is physically intimate.

It just so happens that Cloud is a person that likes Genesis to a point that those physical moments always feel significant. It's harder for Cloud to deny him anything, and it's harder for Cloud to string sentences together, and it's harder for Cloud to fight his own smile and softening tone. It makes Cloud easy when Genesis's hands are on him, or any of his warmth against any part of Cloud's body. It's objectively a little funny, how easy it is for him. Cloud views it as an inside joke. Genesis is himself, and Cloud's got it pretty bad for that huh, haha, why don't I ask you what's for dinner with my arms around your waist.

The physical affection. REALLY gets to him.

For example. There's right about now, where they're both on their way back up to feeling like living people after a death. Genesis is taking a long bath (in the recently installed bath tub he is getting a kick out of) so Cloud goes up to the boutique's balcony.

He hears Genesis's heartbeat getting closer before the steps register. Business like usual. Genesis is in one of his fancier robes, the one with fluff on the cuffs and collars and the bottom hem, and he looks like he's floating around in blood silk, with the way it slips across his skin. He's not wearing anything up top, Cloud can see that for certain. He's not even going to investigate below Genesis's waist. Cloud's not that much of a sucker for punishment.

Yet and still, it's business as usual. They talk. They watch the stars. The main difference is that Genesis is basically on top of Cloud. He only gets worse as they talk. Somehow, they end up on the subject of how Cloud reacts to Genesis dying.

"It doesn't bother you?" Genesis asks incredulously. His finger is tracing the divots of Cloud's forearms where they rest on the banister.

"Not really." Cloud shrugs a shoulder.

Genesis sucks his teeth at him, fingers walking up Cloud's arm. "You've watched two people you love die in front of you, and watching me die repeatedly doesn't bother you?"

"I wouldn't say it doesn't bother me. It's unsettling because I never know how much longer I'll have to wait. That bothers me." Cloud gets distracted for a moment when Genesis's fingers find their way into the hair at the base of Cloud's skull. The massaging and stroking motions are very distracting. "But I'm not helpless. That's…that's what made it worse. Not being able to do anything. I can do something for you. It's not as bad."

"You tell me if it gets to be too much," Genesis borderline chides. Cloud didn't realize he could be such a fusser. And a hypocrite, considering the hand in his hair.

"Mm."

"I mean it, Cloud."

"It won't."

"You can't know that."

"I can."

Genesis's hand withdraws from his hair just to pop him lightly on the back of his neck. "You are insufferable, do you know that?"

"Yet you don't suffer anything you don't like."

"I don't, do I?" Genesis tucks his chin on Cloud's shoulder, and Cloud continues to act like he's ignoring the redhead for the sake of his own sanity. "Wonder how much I must like you."

"Enough, apparently." Cloud's going to go insane if he thinks too much about Genesis's heat against his back, so he just doesn't.

"Mmm." One of Genesis's hands thinks it's being sneaky, grazing around the lining of Cloud's belt. "More than."

Cloud shifts on his feet again when Genesis shamelessly rests a hand over Cloud's abs, hand spread wide. Distraction. Now. "How many times did you get reported to HR when you were serving?"

"On what counts?" Genesis replies without missing a beat. He's plucking at a stray thread on Cloud's shirt, and Cloud has to fight squirming. "The arson or the assaults?"

"…I was going to say assault, but I'm curious about arson." Cloud sighs. "Please get your hand off my ass."

Right. Things like that? Regular occurrences. Fine. Just fine. Cloud's going nuts, but he can play along. All that means is giving minimal reactions or giving Genesis the reactions he wants when it's clear he wants them. Nothing crazy.

But he does get tired. One particularly long day with a delivery to someone five hours away that decided to get a temper already has Cloud in a bad mood. All he's eaten is dust, he missed Genesis's death because of that woman, which is fine on the count that Tifa could come by, but not fine in that he was not supposed to be gone for long enough to miss it.

He's already pissy about it, probably unfairly, so for some reason seeing Genesis when he gets in doesn't make him feel any better. If anything, Genesis glowing and headed towards him with the beginnings of a hug telegraphed in his gait just makes Cloud's mood worse.

"Gen," Cloud sighs, unlacing his boots right at the moment Genesis is in his usual hug range. "Not today."

"What?" A hand rests on Cloud's back where he's bent over, pressing lightly down his side like it's looking for bruises. "Are you okay? Did you fall off Fenrir again?"

"I didn't fall, a bird hit me," Cloud explains for the fifth time. He stands up straight just to get Genesis to stop. "And no, it didn't happen again."

"Then what's…?" The genuine confusion in his eyes makes Cloud want to grit his teeth. He really doesn't feel like solidifying things they both know by saying them aloud, but fine.

"I don't feel like playing today, okay?" Cloud says, exhausted, yanking his boots off before he heads for their kitchen.

"Playing what?" Genesis asks, and again. Curious. There's a sharper edge to it, of offense, and Cloud sighs and digs around in his head to elaborate without being bitchy.

"Y'know, the thing we do," Cloud tries to describe pretty much in vain. Long fucking day, and these words aren't working with him. "Where you use what you know. And we. Are this."

"I'm not sure I know," Genesis says haltingly, watching Cloud with a look in his eyes that's a bit too careful. "What is this?"

"Something neither of us defined, apparently," Cloud deadpans as he makes a sandwich. He stops when he's layered the meat over the bread, staring down at the plate. "I'm being bitchy and vague, aren't I."

Cloud looks back up, shame following him more than a little. Genesis's eyes aren't soft, but they aren't harsh either. The raised brows Genesis aims at him are warranted.

"A tad. Perhaps finish eating first?"

"I'll do that," Cloud concedes, and shuts up as he focuses on finishing his sandwich.

Genesis spends a hot second in the bedroom while Cloud machine chews his way through. He is indeed a lot calmer once he has something on his stomach that isn't road dust, and two glasses of crisp water straighten his head out a bit.

Cloud takes a shower for good measure, and it's after that when Genesis reappears in their general living area. Two mugs of hot chocolate, gifted to them by the kids, sit in front of him at the kitchen counter. Cloud can smell it across the room and joins him the moment he's dried his hair sufficiently.

"Now. Do you want to talk about what the hell that was?" Genesis breaks the ice once they've both had a sip.

"Sorry," Cloud volunteers out of the gate. "I was doing asshole talk."

"I mean, it's fine," Genesis says with a bit of tone that makes Cloud give him a dubious look, "I'm just confused about what we're supposedly playing."

"When you're affectionate with me. It feels like we are. I thought we were, I guess," Cloud confesses slowly, rubbing his neck as Genesis's quietly attentive judgment doesn't let up.

"I'm confused," Genesis says bluntly. "How is me being affectionate with you supposed to be me playing when I'm doing it all the time? Consistently?"

"Well." Cloud blinks at Genesis, heart panging a little but willing to ignore it. It's just Genesis being Genesis. They're just talking. "It's funny, right?"

Cloud sees Genesis's expression drop immediately, and that's about where he realizes he must've been a lot further off than he thought he was.

"Why would it be funny?" Genesis says quietly, staring Cloud down with steely eyes. Cloud's not sure he's blinked. "Do you find something about it amusing?"

"I feel like I need to apologize again," Cloud sounds out hesitantly, giving Genesis a wary glance.

"Not yet," Genesis apparently believes is a gracious response. "Cloud. Did you think me being affectionate with you was a joke? On you?"

"I wasn't going to put it like that," Cloud protests feebly, and Genesis looks accordingly unimpressed. "I mean, you're a flirt. I'm not mad about it, but there's no reason for you to take me serious. I thought you just. I don't know, thought it was fun to…"

"Use it? Take advantage of it?" Genesis raises a brow and Cloud shuts his mouth. Better not to say he was looking for a better way of saying just that. "Cloud."

"You're a flirt and people like you, I'm not special," Cloud continues, because the look in Genesis's eyes makes him nervous. He has a feeling this is out of control but no reason why, because he swears the point he had made sense. "There's no reason for me to expect special treatment."

"No reason? Expect?" Genesis repeats him. Cloud knows he's in deep shit when Genesis doesn't even throw a mocking laugh in the mix. "Holy fuck, you need it spelled out."

"What does that mean?" Cloud rankles. This is where Genesis laughs in his face, and that stings for a second. "Hey. Come on."

"I like you, you faithless man," Genesis huffs out after his laughter calms down. "I like you, as in I thought we'd reached the couple stage, and here I was honeymooning while you think you're my live-in booty call."

"What," Cloud says, not a single bit of it registering.

"I know you like me quite a bit, and I like you quite a bit as well, so I was getting physical because I am interested in you, and you are conveniently interested in me as well." Genesis then groans and drags his hands down his face. "I thought you were just bad at reciprocating because physical touch isn't one of your main love languages. No. You need it written on the wall, you ridiculous, amazing man."

"What," Cloud repeats, because now he's registering and nothing makes sense.

"Get rid of that stupid fucking cot in the corner and start sleeping in my bed. I want to cuddle and I intend to do so romantically, so fuck getting embarrassed about your morning wood," Genesis all but spits out, striding over and grabbing Cloud up by the collar. "Do you understand me? You are special to me. Does that compute? Are we in the same language yet?"

"Yes," Cloud gets out shortly, after which Genesis drops him and Cloud's heels meet the tile again. "Okay. Sorry."

"Yes, you are," Genesis says curtly, then dips down to kiss Cloud on the cheek. "I'm going to go warm the bed up. You will join me once you have your head on straight."

"Okay," Cloud repeats. He feels a little dizzy.

Genesis does as he promised, closing the bedroom door behind him. Cloud leans heavy on the kitchen counter. It's the only thing holding him up.

That was a little hot, is a thought that decides to make a debut once Cloud has sorted out most of his reactions to the issue. This is also the thought that makes him get off his ass and head for the bedroom. Might as well get a head start on Genesis's demand to not get embarrassed.

—

The day Cloud finally tells him isn't all that special.

Cloud doesn't know he's ready to tell him when he wakes up. The death is early that day, which means they have plenty of daylight to work with, and the lingering echo of the death isn't so loud as to throw their entire days off. Cloud does some work on Fenrir over at his garage off of 7th Heaven, and Genesis helps Josie debut her new pieces at the market. Pretty good days on both their ends.

Genesis's feet are tired, but he's still aglow with the day. Cloud doesn't know what it is about it that makes the moment right. Genesis has got a worn out happiness to him, and Cloud has a weird amount of peace in his chest, and somehow he thinks this is the right time.

Genesis senses it somehow. Cloud's not good at hiding his intentions anyways. Genesis notices the gravity that comes over him and sobers. They're curled together on the couch, side by side, same blanket over their legs and legs up on the same reclined seat. This is a blanket they purposely never put on the bed. Easy on both of them.

"I've got to tell you that story I've been holding off on," Cloud introduces carefully. "Do you want the story then the stab, or the stab then the story?"

Genesis hums. His demeanor mellows so fast that Cloud knows he's somehow discerned exactly what's happening. Their feet are pressed over each other under the blanket, so Cloud feels when Genesis shifts his legs as he thinks.

"Go ahead and stab me, the story will fall into line," Genesis decides.

"It's not a small one," Cloud warns to be fair.

"Hit me, let's get it done," Genesis insists.

He said so, Cloud internally winces, but he dd let Genesis choose.

Cloud takes a long, deep breath.

"I killed Sephiroth."

Then he starts at the beginning.

—

Genesis is quiet through all of it. It's odd, compared to how Genesis usually reacts to stories. Genesis likes to ask questions, get elaborations, learn the full scope of the picture. The absolute lack of input from Genesis stands out, but Cloud doesn't let it stop him.

When he's finished, ending with the party finally returning to Midgar when all was said and unfortunately done, Cloud sits there. Genesis is rubbing his brow, processing. Cloud patiently waits for his verdict.

His heart seizes when Genesis sighs shakily, but Cloud restrains himself. He doesn't get to comfort Genesis for the pain he's inflicting. Not unless Genesis says so.

"Oh, Seph," Genesis whispers. He drags a hand down his face, grasping tight over his mouth. "He really was gone."

Genesis doesn't quite cry. But he sits there in silence for a long, long time, hand over his mouth and eyes closed. Cloud shuts up and waits.

Genesis finally opens his eyes after what feels like several eternities. He looks tired, when their eyes connect, but then he smiles. Genesis smiles, and Cloud's internal spiral of despair screeches to a halt.

"Thank you." Genesis moves closer and, slowly, sets his hand on top of the fist Cloud has clenched against his thigh. "For telling me the truth."

Cloud stares at him. Then he stares down at the hand touching him. Internally, he feels like he has to bang his head a few times to get it to start, and even then it stutters.

"You're not mad at me?" Is the first thing Cloud can think to ask past his utter confusion.

Genesis barks a dry laugh at him.

"Oh, I'm not happy with you. But I understand why you didn't want to tell me." Genesis's thumb strokes over the back of Cloud's fist. This feels different from their usual. Cloud keeps staring at Genesis's freckled hand against his in fascination. "I don't appreciate how you hid it, but I understand why."

Cloud's baffled. He slowly looks back up at Genesis. His mako-blue eyes are still tired, but now they're fond. Fond, and that other third thing Cloud isn't sure about yet. Cloud swallows thickly.

"But you're. Not mad about me…?" He can't help asking again. It feels too good to be true.

"You saw the truth. The things you told me, what he said, how he treated you…" Genesis sighs and closes his eyes again for a long moment. When he reopens them, Cloud sees the grief he catches glimpses of sometimes. "The man I knew did a lot of things, but he would never take someone's autonomy from them. I know that for certain."

"What if he was in there?" Cloud presses, because he's thought it himself, and just the chance of it bothers him. It should be bothering Genesis. It shouldn't be this easy. "What if I was wrong?"

"Now you're just chasing wind like a fool," Genesis scolds him, popping him on the thigh the way Tifa pops the kids. Cloud's eyes dart to the area Genesis hit.

…He's pretty sure the bodily reaction he just had wasn't what Genesis was looking for.

"You mean more to me now than he did then," Genesis continues, grabbing onto Cloud's hand again. "He's well and truly gone either way. I know the sort of man you are, and it's enough to know you wouldn't kill anyone in cold blood. I trust you."

Cloud processes. Then he's in disbelief. Then he's studying Genesis's hand in his before he looks up at the man beside him. Genesis is close, the way he usually is these days. Their noses are a mere few inches apart.

"You mean that," Cloud confirms, because he's only now realizing that somehow.

"Yes, Cloud," Genesis says with such tender exasperation. "You, the man who has taken care of me dead and alive, have earned my trust. More shocking news at six."

"I want to kiss you," Cloud says bluntly, because it's the only thing they haven't gotten around to. Because Cloud kept avoiding it. "Is this a good time?"

"Let me check my schedule. Oh golly, I'm free," Genesis deadpans him, closing his eyes with a weary sigh. "Please don't say you wouldn't kiss me before because of the Sephiroth secret."

"I wasn't kissing you because—"

"That motherfucker is still cockblocking me," Genesis groans, turning and squirming closer until he and Cloud are even height, mouths aligning even while his brow is furrowed from frustration. "Bastard."

"Gen," Cloud pleads, because they're so close, and Cloud's feeling too many things at the moment to estimate whether Genesis was being humorous or serious. "Am I kissing you or going to hit the shower?"

"Come here," Genesis snaps definitively, grabbing him by the collar and pulling until they collide.

Cloud knew he was gone, but this solidifies it. He was forcing himself to keep still as Genesis came onto him, but the dam breaks. His arm is around Genesis's waist, tugging him close, the other at Genesis's nape, grasping at the hairs that always test Cloud's patience with their tangles. Cloud breathes against him, moves their mouths together, and groans when Genesis hitches his leg up onto Cloud's thigh. Cloud can't help redirecting the hand in Genesis's hair to lay a hand there, rubbing at the smoothness there, grasping tighter until Genesis moans into his mouth.

"Hell," Cloud breathes when their lips part. Genesis smiles down at him.

"Now I know I'm hot, but come on now," Genesis teases. Apparently making out is also a way to calm him down if he's getting snippy. Cloud notes it.

For his trouble, Cloud tightens the two grips he has on Genesis's thigh and waist, and stands up. Genesis squeaks in surprise, arms flying up to hold onto Cloud's shoulders, then he laughs delightedly then Cloud throws him down to the couch on his back. Cloud has a smile creeping up his own face when he follows, settling between Genesis's thighs. It feels right. Like he was made to be there.

"Thank you," Cloud whispers, dodging the expectant purse of Genesis's lips to kiss his cheek. Cloud can't even parse what he's thanking him for. The knot in his chest has unwound into so much relief and happiness he doesn't know what to explain or how. "Thank you."

"Thank me in kisses," Genesis orders. Cloud obliges with another peck against his cheek, speeding up when Genesis starts laughing again. "Not there!"

Genesis gets his hand in Cloud's hair and pulls him away. There's a glimmer in his eye at Cloud's throaty noise of complaint, partly inflicted by the tight grip in his hair. Cloud has a premonition that Genesis will be taking advantage of his new knowledge very often in the future. Cloud's fate is set in stone.

"Here," Genesis coaxes, pulling Cloud down until their mouths line up. "And stay."

"Wasn't leaving," Cloud mumbles before he obliges. Has to get his last word.

Those are his last words for a long, long time. No words. Only warm mouths, wandering hands, and all the love Cloud's locked up finally being unleashed.

—

Genesis feels it coming on while they're still intertwined. Genesis ushers him into bed, pulls him under the covers, tucks himself under Cloud's chin.

Their legs tangle, and Cloud cherishes every labored, pained breath Genesis makes against his skin, passing his hands over his back in what comfort he can give. He doesn't stop when Genesis stops breathing. He gets up once, to secure water and another blanket, and takes Genesis right back into his arms. It hurts a little more. Feels more like a vacancy, when Cloud's holding him close and his heart has stopped. A clock is right in Cloud's line of sight from where he's laid. He has to look the half hour that passes right in the eye, down to the second.

His largest hope, when Genesis wakes up in his arms, is that he's warm. He hopes it's as though the cold never touched him.

Maybe it worked, maybe it didn't. Genesis coughed either way, was parched and weak and confused on waking either way. But the moment there was strength in his arms, the moment he could move his legs again, he moved them to Cloud, around or against him, pulling closer.

Dead or alive, Cloud holds him either way.