Final Fantasy VII 1. Prologue: Where is my Dream?

**Disclaimer: **I own none of the characters portrayed within this fic save those I create myself.

This story will take place post AC but will not include elements or reference to Derge of Cerberus for varying reasons. That said enjoy, and remember the review button is your friend

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* * *

Thanatos (One Winged Angel)**

Prologue: Where is my dream?

Midgar….

Once a twisted labyrinth of steel fed by the lifeblood of the planet itself, now a living memorial to the folly of man.

High above the Midgar plains, top one of its loftier, and considerably dustier bluffs, a single man stands, looking out over the city.

His lips twist into a faint smile at the irony of his position. He had been here, in this exact spot, looking for exactly the same person just over ten years ago.

His smile faded.

Of course, back then he hadn't been alone.

Sadly he looked to his left and right, shoulder length silver hair fluttering in the fitful wind and ruffling the collar of his burgundy one-piece bodysuit.

A delicate, feminine hand rested itself on his shoulder and he cast another ghost of a smile over his shoulder, this one trying to be reassuring.

"It's ok", he said, his voice, slightly high for a man, quiet and unassuming, making him seem for all the world like a lost little boy, despite his tall, if somewhat slight stature, "I know I shouldn't be hanging around like this, but I miss them…"

The hand tightened slightly on his shoulder and he nodded reluctantly, casting one final glance out over Midgar.

"I used to dream about this…where is my dream now?"

* * *

Clash_! Steel rings on steel, the force propelling the powerful combatants away from each other._

Clang_! Another vicious blow from the slender blade of his opponent barely halted by the thicker, heavier blade he wielded._

_The blades locked, almost bringing him and his opponent face to face._

"_How did you become stronger?", came the deep, amused voice of his tormentor._

"_I don't want to tell you!", the shorter of them replied with venom, forcing their weapons apart and lashing out a kick that would have gone _through_ his opponent had it connected._

Flash.

_Sliver hair billowing in the wind, floating with unearthly power, the once great general looked around in confusion as his opponent's thrown blade spilt in mid throw, ringing him with a circle of steel. A half dozen swords where moments before there had been only on_e.

Slash!

_He felt fire blossom across his chest as his blond enemy streaked past, grabbing one of the blades in mid flight and releasing it as soon as it did it's damage. A faint gold/ blue aura surrounded the shorter man as he seemed to kick off thin air, accelerating back towards his hated enemy and grabbing another blade._

Slash, Slash, Slash, Slash.

_The silver haired warrior's eyes widened in shock as his body began to succumb to the wounds and his opponent came in for the final strike, cutting the final blade down across his body with inhuman force and a cry of pure hate._

_The golden haired swordsman landed agilely, his blades landing around him point first as he reached up almost casually to catch the blade he had just used to deliver the killing blow._

"_Stay there for me", he said quietly, "Trapped in memory"_

_A single black-feathered wing ripped forth from the torn material by the silver haired man's shoulder, wrapping protectively around its owner, ready to return him to his place in the lifestream before the corrosive power of that last attack could damage his soul._

_"I…will never be just a memory…Cloud"_

* * *

Cloud Strife sat bolt upright in bed, sweat flung from his slicked brow by the violence of the motion. He panted lightly as his mind registered his surroundings and helpfully provided him with a gentle reminder of where and when he was.

He was on the second floor of the bar christened "Seventh Heaven", the unofficial headquarters of "Strife Deliveries Inc" and also the home he shared with the orphans Denzel and Marlene.

_Used to share_, he mentally amended, the two nineteen year olds had moved out a few months ago to look for a place of their own and were renting an apartment not far from the bar so that they could still visit, and also so that Denzel could continue helping Cloud.

Now it was just him and Tifa.

Well, not quite. Cloud showed a rare smile, not missing the humour of the fact that people often thought he didn't know how to smile because they were never around when something amused him. He privately suspected it was part of some sort of cosmic joke.

He let blue eyes, glowing faintly from Mako infusion, glance at the softly breathing body next to him.

Tifa Lockheart Strife. His wife of seven years, was rolled over on one side, her breathing deep and even and her chocolate brown hair falling delicately over her shoulder.

His wife…and mother of his child.

Zeth Strife, born just under ten years previously after Sephiroth's aborted return and the death of Kadaj and his brothers.

Cloud frowned as bits of his dream returned to him.

This was the first time since that day he had dreamed of Sephiroth. Even his nightmares of the burning of Nibelhiem had faded upon his second defeat of his old foe and his final talk with Aeries.

Did this mean anything?

Cloud's brow furrowed further as he thought about anything he had heard lately that might have triggered his dream. There had been no mention of the events of that day recently, no one he recalled had even uttered Sephiroth's name in years. There was no talk of strange happenings or disaster on the horizon, no sudden disappearances or monster surges.

_No killer diseases_, he thought with a grimace, rubbing his left arm absently.

Still, there was a disconcerting feeling that _something_, had happened to trigger his unconscious thoughts, something potentially important.

"Father?"

The voice brought Cloud out of his musing. It was pitched just right to be heard above the faint noises coming from the streets outside, and quiet enough so as not to disturb even a fairly light sleeper like Tifa.

The voice belonged to Zeth, the nine year old with curious maturity, thick, messy, chocolate brown hair and crystal blue eyes.

He look at Cloud from the door to his and Tifa's room quizzically, hand over his mouth to politely cover a yawn.

The ex-SOLIDER wondered, and not for the first time, about his son's strange behaviour. Tifa had always shrugged it off, half-joking that it was nice to finally have a man in her life that had some manners.

Cloud's response had been to belch, a rare, if not inspired, show of humour. Zeth had looked ashamed rather than amused by his father's antics.

Pushing the memory aside, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees.

"What's wrong Zeth?"

"…I don't know…", the young boy answered eventually, seeming annoyed that he couldn't give a better answer, "Something woke me up, but I can't remember what"

"You too huh?", Cloud said, slipping out of bed and shrugging on a thin grey robe, knotting the sash loosely around his waist.

Zeth looked up at his father curiously.

"You mean you had a bad dream too?"

"…I suppose you could say that", Cloud conceded after a small pause. There hadn't been anything particularly bad about the dream. It was just strange that it would occur after all this time for no apparent reason.

"You…you won't tell mother…will you?".

Cloud couldn't help but smile at that statement. For all his oddities, Zeth was still a young boy at heart, more concerned about an overly affectionate mother's impact on his growing self-image than the dreams themselves.

"I think it will manage to slip my mind son".

The dark haired boy sighed with relief, prompting his father to chuckle lightly. He really was Cloud's son at times, and it showed in moments like this.

"I think you better go back to bed before we wake your mother up", Cloud said, ushering Zeth back towards his own room.

When he was tucked in again, Cloud sat near his bed until his son's breathing assumed the even pace of sleep and stole quietly from the room.

He paused by the door before closing it, taking one last look at his sleeping child.

Everything was peaceful and normal; the dream was just an abnormality, nothing to be concerned with.

Everything was fine.

Cloud could have never known just how wrong he was.

* * *

----Author Notes---

This is just a teaser of sorts, me testing the waters of FFVII reviewers to see if it's worth continuing. R and R


	2. Chapter 1: Normal is relative

Chapter One: Normal is relative

Cloud yawned behind a gauntleted hand as he waited for the short, balding man in front of him to finish his inspection of his package so that he would agree to sign for it.

It always amused and annoyed the blond haired warrior that some people didn't seem to believe that the man who had twice saved the Planet from annihilation could safely transport a small package from point A to point B without screwing up.

At the moment he was leaning more toward annoyance. The weather was questionable this late in the year at best, and he had no real desire to be stuck out in a storm. Couple that with his young companion's mood, a result of some kind of disagreement between him and Marlene, and you were left with an irritable Cloud Strife.

The customer finally consented that his package was in good order and signed the piece of paper given to him, with a grudging "Good work young man".

This was another source of irritation for the ex-SOLIDER. The presence of Jenova's cells within his body, and his exposure to Mako in high degrees had basically retarded his aging process. In other words, although being in his thirties, Cloud still looked nineteen.

A blessing and a curse.

Tifa was aging well, presumably due to her own impromptu Mako dip, but her aging process had only slowed, where as his seemed to have stopped. One day she would over take him and he couldn't help but wonder if she would hate him for his youth as she grew old, forced to watch as she and their son left him behind unchanged.

Cloud shook away these melancholy thoughts. One day he'd have to face them, but not today.

He turned back to the small street upon which his bike was parked, and the lanky boy with reddish-brown hair curled at the ends leaning against it in a white shirt and battered blue jeans.

"Denzel", he said, suppressing a smirk as the younger man jumped, having missed his approach entirely. It wasn't really that funny, but he was in a dark mood following that dream, and besides, this lack of attention was something he had taken his would be protégé to task on many a time.

The boy would never be a fighter, but his heart was in it so Cloud had long ago decided to push him to get the best out of him.

"Daydreaming again?", he asked, climbing onto the bike as a sheepish Denzel slipped into the newly attached side-cart.

"I guess", the younger boy replied strapping himself in, moving the age worn sabre and sheath give to him for his last birthday by Cloud out of the way first. It was a treasured possession and also a point of embarrassment. He had always wanted to wield a sword like his mentor's, but he lacked the physical strength to so much as lift Cloud's sword, so he was being taught with a lighter weapon.

Marlene, thought the whole thing was stupid. They never went outside the city usually, she had pointed out, and when they did they were always with either Tifa or Cloud so it was pointless.

This is what had caused their last argument. Denzel had been practicing in their living room and accidentally caught a vase she had put on nearby shelf only the other day. To make matters worse the flowers inside had been from Onee-sama's church. Marlene hadn't been happy to put it mildly.

He could still remember how he had shouted back at her, saying he needed to practice somewhere, and how she had blindsided him by asking the deceptively simple question _"Why?"_.

How do you tell someone the reason you're swinging a sword around your living room is because of a bad dream?

He had answered that he didn't want to always rely on Cloud and Tifa for protection. True, not the real reason, but true enough, he could still remember standing in front of that Summoned dragon, larger than any beast in nature, feeling absolute terror as it dawned on him that Cloud wasn't there, and Tifa couldn't protect him.

He was startled out of his remembrance as the bike shook beneath him and sputtered to life.

Denzel lent back as the motorcycle pulled onto the small cobbled street that was Kalm's only road, and picked up speed as it passed quickly through the open gates to the small village.

He rested and arm on the edge of the side-cart and looked back at the rapidly retreating village. Perhaps Marlene was right, perhaps he really was wasting his time, they hadn't even spotted a monster on the horizon for months.

His eyes drifted lazily over the few bluffs that made up this area of the Midgar Plains.

He felt sleepy, his lids heavy. He hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night.

His gaze lingered on the top of a passing bluff in the distance, and he squinted. There was something up there.

Sliver hair fluttering in the breeze, contrasting with the dark burgundy bodysuit.

Denzel blinked rapidly, sitting up.

The figure was gone.

Just the result of a sleep clogged mind and bad dreams, Denzel reasoned, turning away but not relaxing again.

He glanced up at Cloud, but the older man didn't seem perturbed by anything, he was concentrating on the road ahead.

_Nothing to worry about_.

* * *

From atop the bluff, a sliver haired figure re-emerged from his hiding crouch behind its edge. The boy had almost spotted him; he needed to be more careful.

It was hard all this lurking, he was neither a patient or sneaky person by nature; he'd never had reason to be.

So why had **he** been asked to do this?

He sighed, he knew why. Climbing down the bluff carefully, he leapt astride the waiting bike and fired it up, pointing in the direction of Midgar.

The others would be coming soon, he could feel them gathering.

* * *

_Clang_! 

"Very good", Cloud said admiringly.

He and Denzel were locked face to face, their sabres pushing against each other in a struggle for dominance. Cloud was impressed. He had fully expected to have the younger boy in the yield position by the end of that last manoeuvre, but Denzel had surprised him by ducking and baiting him into this stand off.

True it was a foolish idea, Denzel strained against Mako enhanced muscle, both white knuckled hands gripping his blade fiercely, while Cloud still handled his own sabre single handed and was showing considerably less effort, but that didn't stop him feeling proud of his young apprentice.

Denzel grunted something unintelligible in response and laboured harder.

Cloud stepped to the side abruptly, breaking the lock and removing all resistance to the younger man's forward motion.

Denzel stumbled forward and was sent face first into the dirt as Cloud slapped his passing backside with the flat of the sabre.

The blond ran a hand through his spiked hair and adjusted the collar of his purple fleece-vest while waiting patiently for Denzel to regain his feet.

"What did you do wrong?", he said, his tone that of an instructor to pupil who had flunked something simple.

"…I was pushing to hard Sensei, I forgot my balance", he replied, sounding angry with himself.

"Wrong"

"Sensei?", Denzel said, looking up confused.

"Wrong", Cloud repeated patiently.

"You shouldn't have been like that in the first place", a helpful voice piped up from on top of a nearby stack of old crates.

Zeth was sitting cross legged on the dangerously balanced pile, and Cloud was glad that Tifa was visiting Marlene at the moment, she would have had a heart attack… after beating the boy's father to within an inch of his life for allowing him to climb up there in the first place.

Cloud wasn't sure exactly how Zeth had gone from sitting quietly at the edge of the courtyard as he was told, to attaining a ringside view, but he made a mental note to talk to his son about it when he was finished here.

"Father is, much, much stronger than you, if that were a real fight he would have over powered you and killed you by now".

Denzel half glared at the boy. He was right, the pint-sized mountaineer was always right, it was one of the things that unnerved him about the boy at times.

"Shut up twerp", he growled.

"Loser", the dark haired boy replied with a flash of the indignant temper Cloud had been famous for as a child.

"Know-it-all!"

"Weakling!"

Cloud rubbed the bridge of his nose to stave off the incoming headache. Zeth and Denzel had never really got on. Almost as soon as Zeth could talk he had turned all of his negativity on the older boy.

Tifa had explained to him it was a form of jealousy. Zeth thought of Denzel as his older brother, the one who got all of his father's time and attention and who had had his mother all to himself before Zeth was even born.

Sibling rivalry or not it was irritating and confounding at times It only ever seemed to calm down when Marlene was around to play peacekeeper. Both boys obviously liked her, another thing that proved Zeth was still a little boy inside was the way he would become quiet and shy around Marlene. Thus a wonderful quiet would descend upon the house. At least for a time.

Unfortunately Zeth's shyness was yet another thing that seemed to bug Denzel and Cloud would watch with something between bemusement and disbelief, as they would wage a silent war to see who could hold her attention the longest.

Denzel was de-facto winner of that little contest considering he now lived with the girl although Tifa had laughed to herself and patted his cheek fondly when Cloud had asked her if those two were going to start dating.

The argument was becoming increasingly vocal now, and showed no signs of letting up or at least becoming more creative.

"Hey!", Cloud said, raising his voice above the din to get their attention.

Both boys fell silent instantly, looking at him with expressions suggesting they had forgotten he was there.

"Zeth, go inside, Denzel and I will be done soon"

The dark haired boy seemed inclined to argue, but grudgingly gave in under his father's uncompromising countenance.

"Yes father", he said, clambering down from his perch and shuffling moodily back into the house.

"And you", Cloud said, getting Denzel's attention, "On guard"

_Clash_!

* * *

Zeth listened as the ring of steel on steel resumed, kicking at couch as he passed and dropping into it.

It wasn't fair that his father always favoured Denzel over his own flesh and blood.

The young boy brooded darkly, his mind full of thoughts of how to get back at his 'elder brother'.

Lost in thought he almost didn't notice the strange tugging sensation until he began to rise from the couch.

He looked around uncomprehendingly, not being able to recall having stood. This time he felt it clearly. The magnetic draw, that urged him to leave the room and follow its siren call.

Zeth prided himself on being more mature than other boys his age, more logical. He knew nothing about this mysterious call, and would go nowhere until he had an inkling of what caused it.

Then, suddenly it was gone. It was as though the caller had realised Zeth was not coming and had given up.

No. Not given up, he felt that acutely, whatever had reached out to him was just testing itself, and now it knew were he was.

It was an irrational and illogical thought, but the boy knew it to be true.

Something was coming for him.

Zeth suddenly felt very afraid.

* * *

On the outskirts of the city a silver haired youth shook his head to clear the dizzying sensation of the mind call. It was all starting, just as predicted.

* * *

She looked out over those that had been gathered so far. All kneeling obediently before her, heads bowed to hide the slit like irises they all possessed. This was the first Calling. A test of sorts, people drawn from all over the Midgar continent, and still more arriving. She knew that not everyone had come; there were those who were to far away, or those whose minds were to strong at this range.

There were also two minds she had touched but been unable to influence at all.

Those two would have to be destroyed.

She looked out warmly over all those assembled, all her brothers and sisters.

The breeze tossed her waist length silver hair, occasionally obscuring her own slitted blue/green eyes.

"Brothers and Sisters", she spoke more calmly than she felt, her voice carrying out over those gathered, defying the wind and the mounting storm.

They all lifted their heads as one to look at her.

"Ten years… it has been ten long years since the last attempt to destroy us. There are now only us left, this hateful planet has flushed us from the lifestream, taken Mother and Oni-sama from us…but we will not let it win"

"I ask you now, will you help me?"

The roar was deafening.

Her lips rose in a beautiful smile.

"On, to Midgar, Oni-chan has something that belongs to us".

* * *

Vincent cocked his head curiously, waiting for a repeat of whatever had caught his attention.

When it wasn't repeated he crouched lightly, pressing his flesh hand to the cold earth and closing his glowing red eyes.

There had been something, an uncomfortable tremor from the planet, like it was tossing in its sleep under the grip of a bad dream.

Vincent knew all about bad dreams. His nightmares were part of his atonement, though they had lessened now. Vincent was learning to forgive himself. He had seen that sin could be forgiven; Cloud had proved that ten years ago.

"What you doing on the floor vamp boy", a teasing voice enquired from behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder and stood, but remained silent, mentally counting down from thirty.

Behind him the Wutain heir and former ninja and Materia hunter, folded her arms and bounced slightly with impatience.

At twenty her smile slipped a little, and Vincent was careful to hide his grin. This little game was always fun, but if he showed it, it would probably cease.

Ten, a trace of a scowl, arms now are her sides rigidly.

A chuckle was quickly swallowed before it could emerge as he counted down the last few seconds.

_3, 2, 1…_

"Hey! Don't ignore me!"

"I wasn't", he said simply, hiding another grin as she turned her back to him with a '_Hmmph!_' and attempted to toss her short black hair.

About five years ago Vincent had returned to his former home, have finally lain the memory of Lucericia to rest.

Yuffie had run into him while investigating rumours of ghosts in the forest. She should have known that tales of a Wutain man with blood red eyes that glowed in the darkness and a vermilion cape that seemed like a thing alive, carrying the terrifying apparition away on the wind, meant that Vincent Valentine had returned to the place of his birth.

She had invited him to enjoy the hospitality of his homeland…well her actual words had been, _"Come back to the Palace with me and stop creeping out the locals ya bum_", but as a princess she had probably meant the former.

She was a strange girl Vincent thought, possessing far more 'pep' than any being had a right to, while somehow managing not to be _too_ irritating, at least now that she had finally matured a little.

As if hearing the unspoken compliment she turned around and smiled slightly.

Her face was quiet pretty in the moonlight he had often thought, and now, as then, he shrugged off the unwelcome thought, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

He may have laid his first love to rest but that did not mean he was looking for another.

"You coming in now, or gonna have another heart to heart with the dirt?", she enquired.

He said nothing, just breezed past her, back toward the direction of the village.

"Hey! What did I say about ignoring me!"

He kept walking until he heard her booted feet pounding on the ground in pursuit.

There was a pause and a rush of air.

Vincent's cape seemed to flare around him, lifting him into the air and depositing him safely on a nearby roof as Yuffie crashed to the ground where he had just stood, yelping as her flying tackle found no target.

The former ninja glared up at where he was perched balefully.

"Can't you ever just be normal!" she shouted scrambling to her feet.

"Normal is relative, for me this is nothing out of the ordinary"

"Grrhhh, when I get hold of you you're a dead man Valentine!"

"I believe someone beat you to it".

Yuffie starred at him slack jawed for a moment. Had Vincent Valentine, the man personality forgot, just made a joke? Her surprise was replaced by anger as she realised that last comment had put him one up on her.

Wordlessly she leapt at him, landing and touching off again even as he drifted to a new location, chasing him from rooftop to rooftop across the town.

She landed and took off in a new direction, vaulting over the edge of one roof and sliding down it out of his view before dropping back to street level and running around the darkened streets without so much as a whisper.

She clambered up a handy trellis and stole up to the lip of roof she was now positioned on.

She peered over the edge grinning widely.

Just as she had predicted, Vincent was standing a few roofs away, looking in the other direction carefully, probably not believing she could have covered enough distance quietly and quickly enough to get behind him.

_Arrogant jerk_, she thought, swinging her body over the lip of the roof and leaping noiselessly over to the next, kicking off again without a sound, sailing gracefully toward her unsuspecting target, _Doubt the Great Ninja would you_.

Her smile grew with anticipation, her arms outstretched.

Without warning he whipped around, steel claw lancing out and clasping her right wrist, its fleshy counterpart capturing her left, leaving her dangling out over the street bellow.

Her following curses would have given Barret or even Cid pause as she flailed and kicked at him. It was embarrassing, he had played her and she had fallen for it.

"Are you finished?", he asked calmly when she eventually tired, face flushed prettily from all the shouting. It probably said a lot about the Wutain princess that in amongst all that cursing not one person had stuck their head out to see if she was ok.

She glared at him and stuck her tongue out. It was a ridiculously immature gesture from a twenty-eight year old woman, but Vincent found it…endearing?

He drew her in, allowing her feet to touch down on the roof. She really was quite beautiful now that she had matured.

Vincent frowned a little, as close to an open display of confusion as he ever displayed. _Again these thoughts? Why now, after five years?_

"Erm, Vincent…you can let me go now", Yuffie said, her voice he noted holding a slight tremor. Why? Could she be picking up on these thoughts? Perhaps having similar ones?

He looked into her eyes, trying to read what she was thinking; it was an ability that had served him well in the past.

Unfortunately it didn't appear to be working. Those slightly wide brown orbs revealed nothing.

_Perhaps a closer inspection_, part of his mind reasoned and he leaned closer. If he'd paid more attention to which part he might not have done so.

Yuffie, perhaps having the same thought had come closer at the same moment. Their lips met before either could correct the situation and with a pulse of electricity their muscles were temporarily disconnected from their bodies.

Under the pale light of the moon, the Undying Sinner and the Princess kissed. It was a scene repeated all across the world in different situations, so it wasn't that strange. Then again **this** moment was a result of a shift neither could have known about, a shattering of impossibility.

Was it normal? No. Yes?

Normal is relative, and against that which was about to occur, nothing else would ever seem out of place again.

* * *

----Author Notes----

Build up, I know it sucks but bare with me, all will become clear next chapter. R and R people


	3. Chapter 2: Calling

**Note: **For those unaware, Imouto little sister

Chapter 2: Calling

Cloud collapsed face down onto the couch with a dull _thud_.

He was exhausted. Zeth had been in one of his stubborn moods tonight; one of those even Tifa couldn't seem to talk him out of. It was close to midnight and the boy had only just gone to sleep, finally loosing the battle for consciousness.

Cloud had almost considered using one of the Sleep Materia he had amongst his collection.

"You awake?", a voice asked as a pair of hands began massaging his back gently.

"No", came his muffled reply.

"Really", Tifa said and he didn't need to roll over to see her smile, "You're talking".

"Don't let that fool you", he responded, his own grin hidden by the material of the couch.

She slapped his back lightly for the wise crack and went back to her ministrations, loosing up muscles made tense by long hours driving and training, and a troublesome son.

"Hard day?"

"Not really", he shrugged without rolling over, feeling various knots and aches dissolve under her touch, "Denzel's getting better though".

The massage stopped for a second before continuing.

Years ago, before his marriage, Cloud wouldn't have noticed it, or if he did he would have been clueless as to its meaning. Now he was older and wiser in the ways of women… well, those of his wife at least.

"He seemed distracted today", he commented, given his spouse the opening she was probably waiting for.

"So was Marlene", she moved from his shoulders down to his lower back, "They had a… disagreement".

"What kind? Or should I say, from how far away could it be heard?", that earned him another playful cuff.

"Nothing major, he was swinging that sword you gave him around the living room in their apartment".

"He has to practice somewhere", Cloud winced as she pushed down a little harder than necessary.

"I know, but he knocked over a few things, and besides, a house isn't for swords", she said and Cloud grinned to himself, he'd heard that plenty of times.

"You want me to talk to him?"

"…No, let Marlene do it"

Cloud chuckled.

"What?", she asked suspiciously, levering him around onto his back and sitting next to him.

"I just don't know if I should leave him to face the apprentice of the mighty Tifa's tongue all by himself", he caught the blow before it landed, pulling her down and wrapping his arms around her waist to pin her in place.

She blew a strand of hair out of her face and rolled her eyes at him.

They lay there for a few minutes in silence, comfortable and secure in each other's presence.

"Everything's moving on and changing, isn't it", she said quietly, "Denzel and Marlene have moved out, we haven't heard from anyone but Barret in years, and that was to tell us that Cid and Shera finally got married. Reeve's off with whatever Rufus and Neo-Shinra are doing on the west continent, Reno and the Turks with them. Nanaki is still in Cosmo Canyon and no one knows were Yuffie or Vincent might be… and we're here, married with a little boy who seems more grown up each time I look at him".

Cloud's thoughts from earlier that day surfaced, but he shoved them aside.

"Yeah, we all did our bit, so now it's time for us to relax", he said, sleepily, unconsciously hugging her tighter, "Everything changes".

They dozed off in each other's arms, a serene peace filtering through the silent abode, the last for many nights ahead.

* * *

The night guardsman of Midgar yawned and shifted in his seat, stamping his feet against the cold and wrapping his hands more firmly around the steaming coffee mug he held.

Another dead night, not so much as a delivery to break the monotony. It was nights like this he really hated, when there was nothing to do but stare out across the endless plains and wonder if there was something staring back.

He shuddered and turned away from the open window of the guardhouse, kicking up the heater another notch.

He sighed and leaned back in his seat. Perfect, finally a bit of warmth.

_Thunk_.

He looked down at the crimson stained steel protruding from his chest. Curiously he felt no pain; the blade must have severed his spinal cord when it passed through.

He looked with child-like fascination at the delicate patterns made on the floor by his blood and the coffee that had escaped when he dropped his mug.

There was a strange lurching sensation and wet slurping noise, and then he felt no more.

The wielder of the double-edged blade smiled as his head bounced lightly on the floor before rolling to a stop.

She bent and wiped the gore from her sword on his age worn uniform and vaulted back out of the open observation window she had entered through.

The sky was split by lightening and the silent broken by a peel of thunder and the crash of a thousand raindrops striking metal roofs.

In that flash, illuminated for a split second, was a mane of silver hair, and thick black coat…and the dark outlines of hundreds of armed men and women.

* * *

Zeth woke with a stifled scream as the first flash of lightening lit up his small room. He huddled instinctively deeper under his blankets and shivered. The warmth he sort from the thick covers could only warm him externally. Inside he still felt cold.

He'd had the same dream as the previous night.

A tall man garbed in liquid shadow, silver hair spilling down his back and out of sight, had stood before him, with a smile that was a travesty to its cause and piercing blue/green snake like eyes.

He had stooped down before the terrified young boy and whispered only one sentence.

_"I have found you"_

The dark haired boy spasmed in fear, his normally calm blue eyes as wide as the could go as he furtively scanned every shadow for any sign of the man from his dreams.

_Come to me_

Zeth froze. He slowly craned his head around, but could see nowhere, and no one the voice could have come from. Was it the dark man? Was he in his head!

_Come to me little brother, don't be afraid_

That wasn't the voice of the dark man; it was too high, female, kind and soft.

_W-who are you?_, he thought, feeling vaguely ridiculous for talking to a voice in his head.

_I want to meet you_

_Why?_

…_You're a very special little boy… Zeth_

Zeth jerk upright, how could she know his name? He felt afraid again, but couldn't explain why, huddling tighter into his 'bunker'.

_Shhhh,_ her voice came again, soft and soothing, _Don't be afraid little one_.

Zeth felt his fears subside under her mental reassurances, the way they would when his mother would hold him.

_Won't you come and meet us Zeth?_

The boy suddenly had a flash of a pretty woman's face, marred by sadness, and a longing for… something.

_Us? _

_Yes Zeth, your family_

Zeth was confused, his family was right here wasn't it? Mother and Father. Marlene, even Denzel he reluctantly added.

_We all want to see you Zeth_, the voice was pleading now, and the young boy felt sorry for the speaker. She sounded so lonely.

_…Alright… Where are you?_

In his mind he could see her smile, and couldn't help but feel a little shy, like he did when Marlene smiled.

_Just go where your heart tells you little brother, it will lead you to us_.

The dark haired boy nodded as if she were in the room to see him and pushed the covers aside. Clambering out of his bed he went over to the draw that held his clothes, quickly pulling a faded, grey, sleeveless sweatshirt with a hood over his blue long sleeved pyjama top and donning his boots.

He lifted the hood up as he left the room stealthily, not understanding why, but knowing that he needed to be quiet, or he would never meet the sad, pretty lady.

He winced each time one of the stairs creaked and sighed with relief when he reached the bottom.

His breath seemed deafeningly loud as he clicked open the locks that separated the house from the bar and slipped through the door.

The bar itself was dark and quiet, almost sinister lit only by the occasional flash of lightning.

Zeth paused by the door, feeling indecisive has his small hand closed around the handle. Did this make any sense? Going out in the middle of a storm at the behest of a voice in his head?

_Zeth?_

He cast one final glance before opening the door, squinting against the pouring rain that lashed in, soaking him as he stepped outside and carrying its icy chill through the protective layers.

He closed his eyes, centring on the tugging sensation he could feel at the back of his mind.

_I'm coming_

* * *

Cloud struggled against unseen shackles. He was restrained in a place devoid of light or sound or touch.

Although he felt nothing, his prison was as cold as ice and his body trembled ineffectually against the fridged touch of the air.

"Hey!", he shouted, listening as his voice echoed throughout the cavernous void unheeded, "Hey! What's going on here!"

"I brought you here…Cloud".

Cloud's blood froze in his veins. That voice, it couldn't be, not again.

The shadows seemed to ripple and undulate, and a face formed in the black. A pale face with cruel snake like eyes that seemed to glow with their own inner light.

A face framed by long silver hair.

"No…No I destroyed you for good!"

The room was filled by a bass rumble, an amused and malicious laughter.

"You cannot destroy one such as I…Cloud", Sephiroth said, wrenching a shoulder free of the darkness, which seemed to adhere to him like tar, "You trapped me for a time, but nothing more".

Cloud glared defiantly at his foe.

"You took everything from me in the end…Now I will take something from you…Cloud".

Cloud's vision blurred, he felt cold and wet, his inadequate clothes clinging to his skin as he tried to shield the rain from his eyes with small hands.

_Small hands?… Zeth!_

His vision returned and he was once more alone in the void with Sephiroth.

"Bastard! Leave him alone! He's not part of your Reunion!", Cloud flailed violently against his unseen bonds, feeling them weaken slightly.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow and gave a chilling smile, "Who said anything about Reunion…Cloud".

* * *

Cloud woke with a yell of rage, throwing Tifa clear of his body as he sat up.

His wife, a naturally light sleeper, was awake in seconds, just soon enough to stop herself from impacting with the small coffee table next to the couch.

Cloud's eyes darted around the room manically, half expecting to see Sephiroth's head smiling at him from the flickering shadows.

The din of the rain and the storm was drowned out by the pounding of his own blood in his ears.

"Cloud?", Tifa asked, approaching him cautiously, wondering what had woken him so violently, "What's wrong?"

The blond warrior didn't answer, he flew from the living room, taking the steps up to the second floor three at a time, skidding to a halt and using the doorframe of Zeth's room to arrest his forward momentum.

His gaze fell on the bed and his heart nearly stopped.

Gone.

Zeth was gone, Sephiroth had taken his son, somehow reaching from beyond the grave yet again and tearing into the heart of Cloud's new life.

Cloud strode purposefully across the hall to the room he shared with Tifa, kicking the door physically off its hinges when the old handle chose the wrong moment to be awkward.

Three strides later he was armed, he hesitated for a moment, looking at the chest of Materia just visible under his bed.

He crouched and slid the chest out, opening it and digging through the pile of glass like orbs inside for the one he sort, clasping each one briefly and concentrating on the images he could pull from the Planet's Meta-consciousness through it.

_No, no, no…Yes!_

He pressed the orb against his skin, willing it to sink through the skin and become a part of him.

"Cloud?", came a scared voice from the door, "Cloud, what's going on, where is Zeth?".

Cloud stood, torn. Part of him wanted to go comfort his distressed wife, while another was telling him there was no time.

He deliberated, uncomfortably aware that every second delayed was a second that Zeth got further away from them.

He crossed the distance to Tifa and took her shoulders gently.

"Zeth is gone", he said, cursing the return of his blunt nature in emergencies as he felt her stiffen beneath his gloved fingers, "I'm going to bring him back".

He felt his heart being crushed in a vise as he brushed Tifa aside. She was to numb with shock to respond and he could see her slowly sinking to her knees out of the corner of his eyes.

_Damn you Sephiroth, when I find you I'll make sure you never come back again_.

He reached the bar and paused by the open front door, scanning the street left and right, unaffected by the rain lashing at him, sticking his usually spiked hair to his face.

Calling on the power he had absorbed, Cloud watched as the world slowed, each individual raindrop suddenly visible in detail as he stepped out into almost frozen storm.

Water droplets fractured like delicate crystal around him as he walked through them.

Left or right?

He glanced down, hoping for a clue but finding none.

Left or right?

Cloud randomly chose a direction and began to run, he could only hope he wasn't too late.

* * *

She was there. Just like he had pictured her in his dream.

Dressed in a sleeveless long black coat over a deep red, almost purple bodysuit that clung like a second skin, her long silver hair billowing in the wind, she smiled at Zeth with that beautiful smile.

The only thing that seemed to contradict the image to the young boy, was the double-edged broadsword that hung casually from one hip.

"You came", she said, the happiness in her voice distracting him from the instrument of death at her waist.

She was standing under the minimal protection afforded by the concrete overhang formed by the hole in the wall installed for the gate and guardhouse.

Zeth didn't know how to answer, so he just nodded mutely.

She smiled again, opening her arms toward him as if to embrace him across all that distance.

"Are you coming with us Zeth?"

The dark haired boy pushed rain slicked hair out of his eyes. Again he found himself at a loss for words. He wanted to, he couldn't explain it but he did. He wanted her to be happy, even though he'd never seen her before tonight.

There was a whisper, the sound of steel on leather and Zeth let out an involuntary shriek as a dark figure somersaulted down before him, landing with a splash, a bolt of lightning giving Zeth a perfect view of his burgundy bodysuit and the wicked looking double bladed katana he wielded.

His back was to Zeth as the pretty woman's face went from happy to angry with terrifying ease, her features twisted with contempt.

"_Oni-chan_", she said, mock bowing, the sarcasm clear in her inflection, "This doesn't concern _you_"

"Is that any way to talk to your elders imouto?", the new man said with a slight snort of laughter.

_Little sister?_, Zeth thought confused, staring up at the newcomer, why had he called her that, he sounded younger than her.

Zeth peered closer at the man, noticing for the first time his shoulder length silver hair.

_Just like hers…_

There was another rasp of steel on leather as the silver haired woman drew her own weapon, clasping it delicately with both hands and setting her feet shoulder width apart like Denzel and his father would when training.

The newcomer left his blade hanging at his side one handed.

"Get out of my way brother", she growled, her voice low and dangerous. Zeth was beginning to rethink having come out here in the first place.

"I can't let you do that Kikuyu, you know that", he said with a shake of his head, cocking his head to the side languidly, "Besides, I can tell you now, Reunion won't solve anything".

A small smile spread across her face, but there was nothing pretty about it, "Who said anything about Reunion?".

The man seemed shocked by that, but before he could answer the shadows seemed to come alive.

One of them, a man with hate-warped features clothed entirely in ragged black clothes reached out to grab Zeth… and fell back with strangled cry as the newcomer's sword tore his throat out so fast Zeth wasn't sure he had even moved, only the corpse twitching in its death throes beside him offered any conformation that anything had happened.

Zeth scrambled back from the rapidly expanding pool of crimson fluid, looking around as more and more shadows seemed to pour from every available space, trying to overcome the silver haired man with shear numbers.

Zeth caught him throwing a smirk at the woman who had called him here as he lazyily sidestepped a lunge, decapitating the broad shouldered man who had attempted to take him down with deadly grace and a flick of the wrist.

He drove his duel blades through the chest of a black clad woman, snapping out a high kick that hit the throat of another attacker with a sickening pop of cartilage before whipping his weapon free and slashing savagely across the chest of another.

Less than a minute had passed and there were over twenty dead bodies piled around him.

He wove the blade through a tight infinity loop and returned it to its ready position at his side.

Thunder broke the sudden silence as the silver haired woman stared at the bodies of the fallen with a mix of sorrow and anger.

After a moment the swordsman looked around as if confused by the carnage, "Why… why do they not…".

"This is the curse this world has put on our kind brother, we can never return to the lifestream", her voice was laced with bitterness, "Though their bodies are dead, their souls remained trapped within the rotting husks…Do you still think I should be stopped oni-chan?"

The rain beat down restlessly as the two siblings stared each other down. Eventually it was the elder of the two that broke gaze.

"Yes", he whispered, forcing himself to meet her eyes again, "We shouldn't be here".

"…I'm sorry you feel like that…"

He watched as she resumed her stance, blade point aimed at his heart.

On some unspoken signal she moved, blurring across the distance with rapid footfalls, swinging her blade around in a powerful arc.

The swordsman inverted his blade rapidly, laying it parallel to his arm in time to catch her assault and force it wide.

He whipped his fist around, smashing it into the side of her face and sending her reeling into a nearby house.

She shook her head to clear it and kicked off the wall, pushing herself back toward him, the air ringing with the clash of steel on steel they exchanged a flurry of blows.

A high cut to the head was parried and a return thrust to the stomach danced around with a low swipe that had to leap above.

The swordsman came back down with a vicious swipe that forced his opponent to throw herself clear rolling and hastily flicking rain soaked hair out of her face as the force of his attack cracked the concrete inducing a minor tsunami of rain water.

She came in again, connecting with and elbow to the face as he blocked a swipe at his mid-section. Capitalising on her success she delivered a savage roundhouse kick that grounded her opponent, ducking and lashing out with her blade, managing a shallow gash across his leg before her previous attack forced him out of her range.

The silver haired man showed no signs he had received even a superficial wound, powering back in as soon as he recovered with an overhead blow that drove her to her knees when she tried to pit her own raw strength against his and finding out the hard way that he was far stronger than he appeared.

Angling her blade above her head she was able to deflect his next blow, rearing back her blade to drive it through his stomach.

Inches away from his vulnerable abdomen, his sword came back across, catching her own between its twin blades and wrenching it free of her grasp, sending it clattering to the ground out of her reach.

He held his weapon beneath her chin, tilting it up so that their gazes met, blue/green to blue/green.

"I'm sorry", he said; surprising her how genuine his sadness appeared.

Her eyes sort out Zeth's and she smiled apologetically at the scared looking young boy, mouthing a farewell and closed her eyes.

"No!"

* * *

"No!"

Cloud's head snapped around, he recognised that voice. _Zeth!_

He had long since spent the energy inherent in all humans to utilize magic, and the rain hammered down at it's normal pace, threatening to blind him with his own blond tresses.

Now his feet were given wing by something far more powerful than magic. A father's concern for his child.

As he drew closer to where he believed to be the source of the shout, he felt his worry intensifying. He was drawing closer to the gates with every step, had Sephiroth taken Zeth that far already.

Cloud drew on reserves he hadn't known he possessed, willing himself to cross the distance faster, hand snaking behind his back to draw the waiting weapon.

He rounded the final corner, and was brought up short by what he saw.

Zeth was standing before a fallen woman, his arms outstretched and his young eyes screwed tight.

Standing above them, twin bladed katana drawn back for one final sweeping blow, short silver hair clinging like a skull cap to his head, was a man Cloud recognised instantly.

_Kadaj_

* * *

---Author Notes---

No Cloud, don't do it! Anyone thinking something along those lines? Hehehe, keep tuned to see what happens next. Oh and please remember to R and R, it is kind of vital to the continuation of this fic.


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