Archive of Our Own

[Three months, one week till day Zero]

It had all started when, one cloudy August morning in Nibelheim, momma Strife broke her leg.

She had been planning on making sugar cookies for the village children – those that had not yet been scared away by their parents’ stories of ‘evil old witch Strife’, anyway – to cheer them up on an overcast day that promised rain. While reaching for one of the ingredients on the top of the cabinet, the creaky old kitchen chair that had always been in slight need of repair had suddenly given way, resulting in an unlucky tumble and a broken femur.

Cloud hadn’t found out until two days after the accident, when he came back from a lengthy mission to Junon; after their neighbor Tifa had randomly happened upon the handicapped woman while on one of her irregular visits and called the elderly village healer, after the old man and her had carefully moved Mrs. Strife to her bed one room over and decided a call to the hospital in Rocket Town had been in order; after those doctors had arrived the day after via chopper with a portable x-ray machine and determined that while painful and lengthy in recovery, the break was clean and would need no additional setting. They had left her with a cast and instructions to keep weight off that leg for two months at minimum.

Not even having had a chance to take a quick shower or a nap after the mission before the receptionist had pulled him aside to relay the message from home, the exhausted infantryman had not taken the news well. Only after another call to Nibelheim, this time in person, and a few assurances from his mother (‘Yes, I really am alright sweetie, take a deep breath, and don’t you dare come down here!’), had Cloud’s heart slowed slightly in its frantic pounding. A following call to Angeal – the calm, comforting bear of a person being the first to come to Cloud’s mind in this situation – had further helped to ease his nerves.

The reassurance wrought from hearing his boyfriend’s steady voice had been short-lived, however, after hearing that during the five day assignment of Cloud’s squad, Genesis had been detached to Wutai for a quick, but risky maneuver that required the experience of a First, Sephiroth had been called away for some publicity event in Gongaga to dazzle potential new recruits from the jungle town (much to the jealousy of Zack and the bug-induced annoyance of the Silver General), and Angeal himself had been sent on a mission to dispose of some rather strangely mutated monsters just outside of Kalm together with his hyperactive puppy of an ex-student. Angeal had assured the younger one that they should probably be back inside Midgar’s city borders within two days, yet not, to his chagrin, in time to accompany him on his now necessary trip to Nibelheim to assure himself in person that his mother was well cared for.

And so, circumstances had brought Cloud to brave the wonky ferry ride between the two continents and the following truck ride to Nibelheim on his own.

Thinking back on it, the young cadet had to admit that his mom, while certainly not happy with the turn of events, seemed to be handling the injury quite well, even going so far as to tease her son (very gently) about his flustered state of mind and quick reaction in traveling to his childhood home. The pain medication the doctors had put her on made things tolerable for her, and Tifa had already agreed to look in on Mrs. Strife a few times a day to cook her meals and make sure her needs were seen to between her own lessons with Mr. Zangan. And yet….

…there was a nagging little feeling, deep in the pits of Cloud’s stomach, that just didn’t seem to want to go away. A feeling which had started during the truck ride to Nibelheim, as the surroundings behind the darkening, reflecting window of the vehicle had started looking more and more familiar, flat planes turning to sloping hills turning to mountains with coarse vegetation. Even though it had only been a little under a year ago that he had been accepted into the group of four, it felt like so long since Cloud had last gone anywhere without one of his beautiful, loving boyfriends accompanying him.

Whether it was Genesis dragging him out to the theaters for the latest play, Zack hitting that one burger booth in sector three with him, Angeal taking him on a trip past the wastelands to show him a particularly interesting part of flora near the coast, or Sephiroth abusing his special privileges as General to take him up to the roof of ShinRa tower overlooking the entire city during their lunch breaks – it felt like most of Cloud’s life outside the barracks, for better or worse, now revolved around these four. Being back in his old hometown alone, where people he hadn’t seen in over four years recognized him and gave him semi-friendly nods or not-so-friendly stares, had been… disconcerting. Seeing his mother laid out on the old worn quilt of her bed, smiling yet sporting more wrinkles on her forehead and in the corners of her mouth than he could remember…

Now, several days after the event, Cloud couldn’t shake the image from his mind; couldn’t help but conjure up images of the aging woman doing her day-to-day business, maybe humming quietly to herself, yet ultimately all alone in that old, creaky house of theirs. Had Cloud stayed in Nibelheim all those years ago, would he have been the one getting that pack of flour from the cabinet in his mother’s stead and have been able, with his young, boyish reflexes, to prevent a fall? Or would he even have taken care of repairing that ridiculously old chair way before somebody could have gotten hurt?

When Cloud had left home at the tender age of 13, he had done so to become a SOLDIER and make a name for himself; but now, he stayed for his boyfriends, for the wonderful, mind-boggling, supporting relationship he had somehow been gifted with by whatever friendly fates were out there. Had he chosen his own happiness over that of his mother’s?

“-- to Cloud, earth to Cloud, anybody home?”

The cadet flinched violently when he was ripped out of his thoughts by the grating voice of his best friend and lover, who apparently felt the need to underline his words by leaning upside-down over the seated boy, his face so close he could see the small ring of Mako-green around his pupils, rapping two gloved fingers against the side of his spiky head.

“Whaa! Zack, get out of my face!” he yelled with a clipped laugh and shoved the other away with a hand to his forehead.

“What now, I gotta make sure my buddy’s brain hasn’t been abducted by aliens, right? What would I do without your brilliant, overflowingly intellectual self lecturing me about the proper way of cooking up traditional Nibel stew or the merits of not leaving muddy boot tracks all over Gen’s entrance hall or—“ He was interrupted by a light punch to the chest. “Haha, okay okay, got it buddy.” He circled Cloud, still chuckling softly, to sit on the edge of the cadet’s desk. It creaked ominously. “Seriously though, you were really spacing out there; anything in particular on your mind?”

Cloud randomly picked up his pen, fiddling with it absentmindedly. The raven had returned from his mission with Angeal two days ago, sporting a uniform sullied with green gunk and a newly formed distaste of anything bearing tentacles. “Not really,” he admitted. Then, as his eyes fell past Zack to the calendar hung up on his wall: “Just… thinking about the exam, I guess.”

Bright, red circles marked the days ahead, being crossed out diligently every evening by the SOLDIER hopeful, continuing on up to a certain date still several months from now, yet closer in time than Cloud would have liked: the upcoming SOLDIER entrance examination.

Ever since last month, from near and far potential recruits had flocked to the city in hopes of seeing their dreams fulfilled: gaining entrance to the coveted SOLDIER program of ShinRa. In order to allow every candidate comparable chances, a four months period of training, both in theoretical classes and combat courses, was supposed to prepare them for the exam that would separate the wheat from the chaff. Only those who showed that they could acquire the knowledge granted to them and successfully use it in the heat of battle would get a chance to become a SOLDIER, though there would still be another period of extensive training after getting admitted before receiving the official title of SOLDIER Third class. This program had not yet been in effect the last two times that Cloud had tried to apply for SOLDIER, when he had barely been able to lift the practice sword he was supplied with.

Now, at the ripe age of 17, he was granted one more, and one last chance - for three was the maximum limit of applications - to achieve what he set out for as a child. While not unhappy in the infantry, Cloud never had given up on that dream of his, and his boyfriends had given him every encouragement he needed to give it one last try.

He had to do this. He couldn’t let leaving Nibelheim be in vain.

“Oh, I bet. Well, don’t let it scare ya, Spike. You’re gonna kick their asses! ‘sides, you still have a couple months, right? No biggie. Feel like hitting the gyms together tomorrow night? Or letting me give you some hints on your footwork?” While Cloud had stubbornly denied the other three elites’ offers of helping him prepare for the exam for fear of having an unfair advantage, he and Zack had been practicing some hand-to-hand combat and even sword work together ever since some time after his failed second attempt, just after they first met, and he had seen no reason to suddenly cut short what had become a regular activity for the two. He enjoyed the occasional rough-housing with his friend; their physical encounters did not always need to be of a romantic nature for him to enjoy them.

“Sure, why not. Um…” Cloud’s gaze fell on the textbook on materia theory lying open on his desk in front of him. Zack followed his line of sight and understanding bloomed on his face, dimming his excitement slightly. “Not that I’m not enjoying your presence or anything, but….”

“Ahh yes, sure thing Cloudy,” Zack slid of the table, falling into a quick impromptu squat and rising to stretch his arms above his head. “’A good soldier steels not only his muscles, but his brain as well’.” The stern imitation of his once-mentor’s voice was slightly ruined by the upwards twitch of Zack’s mouth and the hint of barely suppressed amusement behind the words. “Got it. But be sure to actually get out of this room every once in a while, alright? And by that I don’t mean the training halls. Actual outside environment. With fresh air and everything. You’re pale as a piece of chalk, Cloud,” he added as he regarded his lover’s bare arms, almost glowing in the fluorescent light of the neon tube above.

“Yeah, yeah. Admit it, you’re just blinded by my bedazzling beauty,” Cloud batted his eye lashes at him and made a show of flicking a spike of hair out of his face.

“In your dreams,” came the teasing reply, belied by the quick kiss Zack pressed to his lips before sauntering over to the door. “I’ll ring you up soon as I get off tomorrow.”

With that he was gone, the door closing behind him with a click before the room once more descended into silence. Cloud slumped back on his seat and shivered. Why did it feel like all the cheer and good mood had been sucked out to follow after his friend?

[Three months till day Zero]

'My dear little Cloud,

how many times do I have to tell you not to worry about me? Us Strifes are made from harder wood than that.

The leg is healing nicely, it is finally getting a little warmer here again (it really was much too cold for the middle of summer, until now), and just the other day I directed Tifa in making those sugar cookies I’ve been meaning to bake – no worries, Mayor Lockheart had that chair replaced already, no one got hurt this time. Well, except for little Christoph, if you remember, the little blond one of Mrs. Daymere – when he heard about the cookies, he came running up the path and stumbled, scratching his knees, but the cookies helped him right away.

Speaking of Tifa, did she write you yet? I heard the two of you talking about wanting to keep in touch when you came down. Such a helpful young lady… But I forget, my beautiful little boy is already quite taken with his mystery boyfriend, is he not? I cannot wait until you finally gather the courage to come introduce him to your old mother… '

The hand holding the by now well-worn letter fell to the side, its owner’s gaze drifting lazily over the buildings and streets of Midgar below, illuminated by innumerable tiny pinpricks of light. One leg dangling below him, the other curled against his chest, Cloud was sure his position on the narrow window ledge of a rarely used storage room would have given at least half his boyfriends a minor heart attack had they seen him. Well, at least he was taking Zack’s advice to heart and made sure to get a little ‘fresh’ air (as fresh as was possible in the smoggy Midgar, anyway), even if sitting above a four hundred foot drop without safety measure hadn’t quite been what the man had had in mind. It was Cloud’s usual place to think, and he enjoyed the quiet.

Thoughts swirled through the boy’s mind in no particular order. While he had confessed to his mother, after much consideration, that he was currently seeing a male SOLDIER (which she had taken to surprisingly well, considering her knack to hang on to old traditional Nibel values), he had yet to tell her that her cute, innocent little boy was actually in a functional relationship with four older men. The others had accepted his decision for the time being, yet assured him they would be more than willing to meet the infamous Mrs. Strife if he did change his mind about the issue.

Really now… that woman raised you, fed you, taught you, and then let you leave her when you were barely into your teens, yet you can’t even repay her with a bit of honesty.

He pushed the unwelcome thought from his mind.

Tifa had written him a letter, actually. It had been weird, seeing his old childhood friend again after all this time, more so after what the last words had been that the two exchanged. That promise hadn’t even come to the forefront of his mind until after his worries about his mother had been settled and she’d taken him aside for a walk. Coming home without having made SOLDIER was an offense she had easily forgiven him under the circumstances. He’d told her a little about his third try at the entrance exam coming up in November, and she in turn talked about her lessons with Mr. Zangan. They both agreed to stay in touch and encourage the other to give their best to get stronger.

Don’t you dare disappoint her.

With a sigh, Cloud rubbed at his temples, hoping to dispel the lingering ache that had settled there a while ago and made itself entirely at home.

It had started with his mother’s broken leg, but it continued with the little things.

Little things like headaches, like insomnia; like that odd, hollow feeling somewhere behind his breast bone. Cloud stopped sleeping well, thoughts swirling through his mind in an untamable maelstrom as soon as he laid down to rest, keeping him up until the wee hours of the morning, when he would slip into an uneasy slumber riddled with disturbing pictures. Nothing solid, nothing he could grasp and remember when morning came, but those dreams always left a bad taste in his mouth. All he could recall were snitches of running, of being too late; his mother’s impassive face, the backs of his boyfriends, walking away from him; flashes of a deep, all-encompassing guilt.

With another heart-felt sigh, Cloud pocketed his mother’s letter and turned away from the sight of Midgar’s night life, knowing he had to be back at his barracks before lights-out.

He would be in for another long, long night.

[Two months, three weeks till day Zero]

One more lap…. Just one more….. come on, Strife, one foot in front of the other. If your legs are tired tonight, your mind’s gonna follow. Just one more….

“Cloud!”

Not having expected the call from somewhere behind his left shoulder, the cadet stumbled to a stop, panting heavily. The bone-deep exhaustion he had stubbornly been ignoring during his mindless running suddenly crashed over him, almost making him keel over, the track’s orange stripes spinning in dizzying circles around him. Then, from one moment to the next, strong arms were around him, holding him upright, his burning cheeks pressed against cool leather. The heady scent of metal, lavender and something like burnt wood surrounded him. Sephiroth.

“Cloud?”

“Seph…”

The transition from gym floor to bench never quite reached Cloud’s mind, but all of a sudden he was being eased down onto the cheap plastic before his legs had a chance to give out from under him, and a strong hand on his shoulder kept him steady. Slowly, the dizzy feeling dissipated and the young man could focus his gaze on the image of his boyfriend sitting next to him.

“How long have you been running, Cloud?” Sephiroth asked while rummaging in the depth of his coat for a potion, which he handed over to the sweaty cadet. Cloud omitted an answer in favor of gulping down the offered drink. “You should not push yourself so hard.”

“…I guess,” the boy admitted evadingly after one last gulp, letting the hand holding the bottle drop to his side and leaning his head back against the walls of the gym. His gaze drifted over to his SOLDIER boyfriend dressed in his usual leather garb, watching him attentively with a worried frown creasing his forehead, past the near-empty training hall before falling on the suit-clad exec standing and waiting semi-patiently in the background near the doors. “You here with Lazard?” he asked rhetorically.

“Yes. He wanted me to personally greet the new recruits in training hall B. Give them a good first impression of the company, and the like”, Sephiroth replied, his voice stiff with a hint of distaste. It was no big secret in their little group that the Silver General abhorred his position as ShinRa’s perfect poster boy.

While not widely known, news of their relationship had eventually reached some of the higher ups, seeing as Lazard had to be aware of any sort of favoritism going on in his troops – not that there was any. Cloud consistently made sure of that. At the very least, the director of ShinRa had never openly expressed any sort of derision about their unusual arrangement. “Well, better not keep him waiting, then.”

Sephiroth nodded, yet hesitated in standing up. “You…. are well, are you not, Cloud?” The question was asked haltingly, the voice’s owner obviously not quite comfortable yet, even after all this time, with talking openly about emotions.

“Yeah”, Cloud tried to assure, a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I…. I’m fine.” At the slightly dubious look coming his way, he decided to elaborate. “Really. I’m doing okay. Don’t worry”, he finished off, even going so far as to force a little smile on his face which turned out more genuine than he had hoped, touched by his awkward boyfriend’s efforts as he was.

A few sleepless nights was nothing he couldn't handle.

“If… you are sure”, the General decided, finally rising to his feet and smoothing out non-existent wrinkles on his coat. “Be sure to stay off the tracks for the rest of the day at least, Cloud. And get some rest.” With this, and a quick touch of gloved fingers to his face that made Cloud’s heart beat a little faster (the General still wasn’t too good on the pda, so small gestures like these meant a lot to the young man), Sephiroth turned on the spot and returned to the now no longer so patient looking Lazard, who blessed him with a short yet polite nod in his direction.

As soon as the two men had rounded the corner, Cloud struggled to his own feet. The potion had successfully invigorated him, given him just a little more energy sparking through his veins, distributing adrenalin into his system. Absentmindedly, he disposed the empty potion bottle into the trash can.

Just one more lap…. one more, and maybe I’ll catch some actual sleep tonight….

[Two months, two weeks till day Zero]

“Jeesh, ya should’a seen Brigg’s face, he looked about ready to blast ‘is head off!”

“I mean, yea, it’s fucking boring ninety percent of the time, and that guy sure knows how to keep his voice at a monotone, but I don’t think anyone’s ever had the balls to fall asleep in his class, far as I’ve heard.”

“You got s’m guts, Strife.”

He pushed the hand away that had playfully tried to shove him and forced a smile on his face while setting down his tray and sliding onto the bench. “Yea, yea…. whatever, Stevens. Like you’ve never napped with your eyes open in that class.”

“Difference being, of course, the open eyes part, and the lack of snoring. Makes the whole napping process just a tid-bit less obvious, y’know.”

Cloud ignored him in favor of listlessly shoving around the contents on his plate with a fork. Green sludge, today, with bits of brown somethings swimming in it. Yikes.

“Soo, seeing as you’re still gracing us with your glorious presence at this very moment, I suppose he didn’t kick you out’a the program yet?”

“Washroom cleaning duty. Every evening except weekends ‘til the exams.”

“Ouch,” the recruit opposite him, Rogers, winced in sympathy, “Though honestly, it could be worse. I thought you were done for when he called you to the front after lessons.”

“Hnn,” Cloud grunted.

“Shiva’s butt, Strife, I dunno when you turned into such a friggin airhead. And I sure dunno how you plan on getting through exams if you keep using classes as nap-time, haha.”

Cloud kept his gaze trained on the food in front of him, tuning out the chatter of his class mates around him (“Leave him alone, would ya?! Ya should’a seen how far he’s pushed himself in the gyms yesterday. Looked ready to drop, yea”). Soon enough, he felt the by now familiar sensation of bile rising up his throat, churning his insides. He pushed the plate away from him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stomach any more. Already, he could feel panic bubbling up inside him, choking him, wrapping around his throat and squeezing. Two and a half months, that was how much time he had left until the gallows. And the way things were progressing now, he would go down with flying colors.

Deciding to spend the rest of lunch break in his room catching up on the class work he missed during his ‘nap’, Cloud stood up abruptly. And promptly had to grasp the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grip when the cafeteria spun before his eyes.

“Leaving already, Cloud? Ya barely had one bite!”

“Gotta keep up your strength, yea!”

“I forgot to do some homework for history,” Cloud lied through his teeth and grabbed his still more than half full tray when the dizziness finally dissipated.

“Like I said…. Such an airhead.”

He fled the table, as fast as he could pass off without actually seeming like he was running away, leaving the laughter of his ‘friends’ behind him. Suddenly, he couldn’t be out of the mess hall fast enough.

Twenty minutes later found Cloud squeezed behind the desk inside his little two-man room (his bunk mate thankfully still being out eating lunch), staring at the same book page he had opened upon arrival. The words swam before his eyes.

“—concepts and courses of action directed toward securing the objectives of national and multinational policies and strategies through the synchronized and integrated employment of military forces and other—“

National… courses of action… through the synchronized—

Fuck… who am I kidding.

With a weary sigh, Cloud buried his face in his hands. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted for the tight feeling in his chest to loosen up, to let him breathe again.

He knew there was an unread message on his PHS from Zack, likely asking about when the cadet would get the next time off. The punishment he had gotten for falling asleep during his strategy class would interfere with his nightly training sessions with the man, effectively ending them completely apart from Saturdays and Sundays, maybe. Letters from Tifa and his mother laid at the edge of the desk, ignored, waiting to be replied to. He had ten minutes to get to his next class.

Cloud took a shuddering breath, willing the burning feeling behind his eyes away.

Fucking useless, aren’t you.

[Two months, one week till day Zero]

He was roused from his sleep by an impatient knock at the door, but it wasn’t until he heard the swish of a keycard and an exasperated voice reached his foggy mind that Cloud’s gritty eyes slowly cracked open.

“Odin’s beard, should’a known we’d find you like this, Cloudy.”

A sharp hiss of air. “Care to tell why exactly you aren’t dressed yet?!”

…dressed? Why wouldn’t he be…?

It took a moment for the disoriented cadet’s brain to catch up to what was being said and find its way back down to earth, to helpfully supply him with the fact that the warm metal ridges poking into his cheek belonged to his spiral-bound notepad, which his head was currently resting on uncomfortably. A lazy glance at is immediate surroundings revealed his pencil case in sharp detail, two inches from his nose on his desk, and, behind that, the empty bed of his bunk mate Fred.

Remembering the voices from somewhere behind his chair, Cloud gingerly sat up, feathery spikes whipping back from where they’d been stuck to his forehead. “Wha…?” He blinked owlishly as he turned around in his seat and finally came face-to-face with the four men invading his living space, some still lingering in the doorway or just behind that.

The hand which had come up to rub at the indent beneath his right eye stilled as Cloud took in the sight of his boyfriends’ appearance. Clad in various forms of suits, fancy dress shirts and other formal wear, the four looked like they had just walked off the latest front cover of a runway magazine. While already overly handsome on a normal day, dressed like this, these gorgeous men simply stole Cloud’s breath away.

But why would they…..

Oh.

Oh.

“Crap…” escaped the sleepy cadet in a shaky exhalation.

Right.

The impatient sigh of a certain redhead drove home the fact to Cloud what exactly was going on: the date. Dinner-date, actually. The dinner-date Genesis hadn’t been able to shut up about all throughout the past week, commenting daily on how excited he was that they all would have a day off together and how difficult it had been to get a table for that specific occasion in one of his all-time favorite, upper-Plate establishments.

The dinner-date that had completely slipped Cloud’s mind as he fell asleep over his history textbook that afternoon. A quick glance at the clock told him there was no way they wouldn’t be late by now.

“Damn, I’m so sorry, guys,” Cloud scrubbed his hand wearily over his face in order to get rid of the sandy feeling in his eyes. If only that fogginess in his mind would go away. His mouth felt dry. “Lemme just… I’ll be ready in a minute…”

He pushed away from the desk and shakily rose to his feet, only to have his knees buckle below him, unable to support his weight. The world turned dark before his eyes. Cloud braced himself for the impact when, suddenly, strong arms wrapped around his waist. Zack’s scent filled his nose. “Whoa whoa whoa there, Spikey. I don’t think you’re going anywhere like this.” He vaguely felt himself being lifted up and carried over to his bed, somebody else taking hold of his dangling legs and pushing back the covers.

He was laid down, the sheets carefully being tucked in at his sides. Cloud felt the bed dip at the same time that the black veil over his eyes started to lift and Angeal’s rumbling voice drifted over to him. “You’ve become mighty thin, Cloud. Looks like I’ll have to feed you up a bit again with some of that Nibel stew you like so much, hm?”

Already feeling sleep trying to tug him back under, Cloud made one last attempt at rising, murmuring to Zack kneeling by his head: “I don’t… I can still—“

“Shush.” A firm hand pressed him down into the mattress. Absentmindedly, the young man wondered what it was his two boyfriends saw that made them so insistent. “Go back to sleep, little chocobo.”

The last thing Cloud saw before the lights were switched off and his consciousness finally fled was the sight of his lovers exiting the room one by one, and the door being pulled closed by Genesis, who regarded him with one last, unreadable frown on his face.

[Two months till day Zero]

Cloud had been able to avoid his boyfriends for a few days after this particular incident, aided by the fact that most of them had been detached on missions, except for that one time where Zack had passed him up in a hallway and too-casually asked him if he was doing okay. Cloud had quickly affirmed before fleeing the scene.

Not seeing most of them had not, however, rid him of the sharp pang of guilt that shot through the cadet every time he thought of how disappointed the others must have been in him. Time with all of them together was rare and precious, and Cloud had gone and ruined it.

He beat himself up over it, for not having forced himself to just get dressed and accompany them instead of succumbing to sleep, for having made himself so exhausted to begin with, for having these stupid thoughts run through his mind every single night keeping him wide awake.

It was for that reason that one early Thursday morning found Cloud on a pilgrimage to Genesis’ apartment with a bag of his mother’s homemade cookies in hand, knowing the other was scheduled to return from his assignment the night before.

After a short hesitation, the blond used the spare keycard he’d been given to open the door. No use waking the short-tempered redhead up if he had come back home late at night; he could just leave the cookies on the counter with a note and make himself scarce again.

He tip-toed quietly through the entrance hall and found the living room empty. No surprise there. He was just about to walk into the adjacent kitchen when he became aware of raised voices from the bedroom. Feeling bad for eaves-dropping yet being unable to resist, Cloud turned back to the hallway and strained his ears.

“You’re bloody coddling him, is what you are.”

“I am not coddling, I’m just trying to take care of him. For goodness’ sake Genesis, you’ve seen him. He’s running himself into the ground, stressing about that exam.”

“That doesn’t excuse his behavior!”

A cold, cold shudder washed down Cloud’s back.

They were fighting.

About him.

“I never said it did, all I’m saying is he obviously needs some time. He’ll come to us on his own, when he’s ready.”

“This is ridiculous. He’s a grown boy, not a little child, Angeal! If he’s got a problem, he needs to talk about it. That’s how things work. We shouldn’t have to be the ones running after him, hoping that, just maybe, he’ll find the grace to bestow is with the knowledge of just WHAT. The HELL. Is wrong!”

Rare was the time that his big, calm bear of a boyfriend raised his voice. But when he did, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were being scolded by a disappointed parent.

“Bahamut, now you’re just being childish, Genesis. If he’s not ready to talk yet—“

“Who are you calling a child here?!”

“Cloud.”

The boy in question flinched, ripped away from the conversation he had just inadvertently overheard. In the doorway to the kitchen stood Sephiroth, the tall, imposing man’s face unreadable.

Feeling like a cat caught with its paws in the cookie jar (oh, the irony) and his heart beating in his throat, Cloud stumbled forward to deposit his treat-filled bag on the coffee table. “I, uh… I-I just wanted to drop these off, for you guys. My mum sent me cookies, I thought you might like some. I should, uhm… I’m gonna be late for the drill. See you later!” The words tumbled out of his mouth in a mess, while he turned around to flee the apartment.

Another call of his name stopped him in his tracks. “Cloud.”

Closing his eyes briefly with a wince before schooling his face into a hasty mask of neutral expectation, the cadet faced the First again. His hand clenched on the doorframe.

“You kept some for yourself,” it sounded more like a statement than a question, but by now Cloud was familiar enough with Sephiroth’ manner of speech to know the older just wanted to be reassured that the younger wouldn’t have to go without the sugary treat.

Cloud put on a smile and lied through his teeth. “Sure.”

He had to get out of here.

A nod was all the invitation it took to make him vacate the apartment as quickly as he could manage, not even stopping to listen if the other two were still arguing at the end of the hall.

As soon as he turned the next corner, Cloud broke into a run. He barely made it into one of the seldom used emergency stairways and down a couple steps before stumbling against the wall, sliding down the cool concrete and coming to a standstill.

His breath was rattling through his lungs in quick, heaving gulps, refusing to settle down even after a minute. He couldn’t breathe. The walls spun. He spun. The stairs beneath him were unstable. Any second now, they would topple away and leave him to plummet to his death.

Cloud leaned his burning forehead against the cold stone and clenched shut his eyes, unable to control the sobs escaping his lips. This wasn’t his first anxiety attack these past few weeks, and he had a strong feeling it wouldn’t be his last, but usually they only happened late at night in his bunk, when the walls closed in from all sides and the silence threatened to shatter his eardrums.

They were fighting.

It’s your fault.

Two months…

Angeal was yelling.

You’re gonna fail, and they will see; see what a failure you are, when you’re being sent back to the infantry with your tail between your legs, you worthless piece of—

I can’t breathe. The floor’s coming closer…

Angeal was yelling.

I can't do this...

Such a child--

I CAN'T.

…

Friday promised to turn into a quiet evening.

It was an unexpected night off for most of Cloud's infantry division, but he wasn't going to complain. Upon his return from cleaning duty to the eerily empty barracks, Cloud found his room once again absent of a bunk mate. Seemed like Fred was out and about, enjoying his free time.

With a drawn-out exhalation, the blond cadet sunk down on his desk chair. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone out with the others from his squad. He usually drew upon the excuse of extra schoolwork – which none of his old buddies could really argue with, seeing as they weren't going to try out in the exams – but more often than not, lately, Cloud just found himself staring apathetically at his open textbooks, a numb, cold feeling spread out through his body, devoid of all energy.

Cloud was just about to resign himself to one of those evenings when a knock sounded on his door. “Yeah?” Had Fred lost his key card again?

That thought was quickly discarded when the door opened with a soft 'swish'. In walked somebody Cloud wasn't really expecting after what had happened the day before at Genesis' apartment, somebody the boy wasn't sure how to feel about at the moment.

“Sephiroth?”

“Hello.” The tall, imposing man shuffled inside hesitantly, closing the door behind him. Cloud couldn't help but think how out of place the General seemed to look, down here in the barracks.

“Hello back at you.” The cadet turned around in his swivel chair to fully face the other. After a few seconds, when it became clear the awkward man wasn't about to start talking first, Cloud extended his hands to him to pull him closer, a soft smile on his face. Sephiroth stepped into the space between his spread knees. “What brings you here?”

The silver-haired First eyed him for a long moment. Cloud tried to hold back the anxiety bubbling up inside him, snatches of the overheard fight coming to the forefront of his mind. There was no way Sephiroth had not realized he'd been listening in on the argument, and with his enhanced hearing he had probably known what its topic had been. Was he here to talk about it with Cloud, to finally demand some answers for his strange behavior as of late?

“You are having the day off today, are you not?” he asked in his deep, soothing baritone.

Cloud nodded.

“In that case... I had actually been wondering, if maybe... you would not be opposed to...” The older man's gaze fell down to where his hands were fiddling with Cloud's, entangling their fingers, threads of silver hair dangling between them. Cloud suddenly realized he was nervous. What reason did Sephiroth have to be nervous? “...to going out in Midgar tonight?”

So relieved was the cadet that the previous day’s events were not going to be addressed, that it took his brain a moment to catch up to what was being asked of him.

A night out?

Seph was asking him on a date. Cloud's breath halted.

It had been a while indeed since he had last had any substantial, romantical alone-time with any one of his boyfriends. Or since he'd spent the night at any of their places. Between his studies, combat classes, disciplinary punishment and his – if slightly reduced – duty at the infantry, his free time had been eaten up almost completely.

He should say yes. But...

It wasn't even that Cloud still planned on doing any more homework that night. But he could still feel that frigid numbness settled in his limbs, pressing him down into the chair. Suddenly, the crowded, bustling streets of Midgar seemed daunting, intimidating, ready to swallow him up if he dared set a foot on them. If he just stayed here, in his room, he wouldn't run the risk of embarrassing himself, of saying something wrong, or being the cause of Sephiroth having a bad time with him. His mind felt like a huge, gaping emptiness; a bottomless pit staring back at him. How was he supposed to come up with a conversation topic over breadsticks and a gilded menu filled with sophisticated, flowery food names in whatever restaurant Seph had been planning on dragging him to?

Suddenly, even the act of pulling on his boots seemed like an impossibly heavy labor to Cloud.

He had just opened his mouth and taken a breath to relay his answer when the blond did the mistake of looking up at his boyfriend's eyes.

“I...”

Gods. Sephiroth had obviously been anxious, for whatever reason, about asking him on the date. It showed in the stiff way he held his mouth and the tiny crease between his brows. Small tells, but signs Cloud had long since become familiar with. What was he even doing anymore?

With a quiet sigh, the blond bit down on his lip. Now it was his turn to fidget, and his gaze which drifted to their entwined hands so as not to have to watch the spark of expectation die in his lover's eyes. “I... don't know,” he finally replied in a small voice.

The larger hands tightened slightly around his. “We needn't... stay out long, if you still have work to do. We could simply go for a walk.”

Guilt bubbled up inside Cloud, at the same time as he cursed his indecisiveness. The rejection would be like a slap to the face for his boyfriend, he knew. But Cloud was just so... tired.

“I'm... I'm sorry, Seph,” another sigh as he mustered the courage to look up with a pleading expression, “but I'm just not... feeling up to it tonight, okay? Maybe some other time.” As expected, there was a small flinch to Sephiroth's face, but he hid the hurt quickly, and well.

“I see. If... you are sure.”

The carefully neutral tone of voice meant the General was closing up again, and the blond had half a mind to back-pedal and renounce his words. After all that had happened, after Cloud had ruined the last night out with his lovers, after he had closed himself off from them and buried himself in his books and classes, even now Sephiroth had gone out of his way to invite Cloud for a pleasant evening in the city. The boy felt vaguely sick.

He wasn't worthy of this attention.

When the cadet stayed silent, the elder seemed to take that for an answer and slowly started to withdraw. “My apologies, Cloud. I should leave you to your studying.”

Suddenly scared of leaving things in this state, of letting Sephiroth vacate the room thinking the younger didn't appreciate the gesture or – worse – his presence, Cloud startled upright, his fingers shooting out to clutch around the other's wrists. “Don't!” When regarded with a questioning glance, he stumbled: “...don't leave. Please. Do you... wanna stay a bit?” It wasn't much, but it was the most Cloud could offer in his drained state

Sephiroth let himself be pulled back between Cloud's legs in front of the chair. His hands drifted up to the young man's cheeks, holding him in place to regard him carefully. Cloud's own hands had followed, still encircling his wrists loosely. “If that is what you want.” The blond's answering nod prompted long fingers to slip into the mess of feathery spikes, and Cloud let his head be maneuvered forward to rest against Sephiroth' warm chest, his own arms finding their way around the man's back.

For a moment they simply breathed; and it was enough.

Later, Cloud would carefully shift the two over to his bed, where he would curl up against the elder's side, ear pressed against his ribcage, and the steady ba-thump of a heartbeat would lull him into a state of not-quite-sleep, but close enough to it to mute his frenzied thoughts for just a while.

[One month, three weeks till day Zero]

“…I’m worried about him.”

Groggy as he was, it took a long moment for Cloud to get his bearings. He was feeling incredibly warm, and comfy. Sleep pulled heavy at his lids with promises of sweet oblivion, keeping them firmly closed even as he slowly became aware of the whispered conversation going on over his head.

“I know.”

“I mean he’s always been kind of a cuddly sleepy-head, y’know, but never to this extent, right? He even told me he got disciplinary for falling asleep in his class once. It's just... not like him.”

Still on the precipice of slumber, his mind lazily pieced together that his head was lying on someone’s lap, legs stretched out behind him, the deep baritone of his elder, dark-haired boyfriend rumbling through the clothed torso his cheek was nestled against. A hand was cradling his shoulder, another scratching soft patterns against his scalp.

He could vaguely recall a late dinner with Zack at Angeal’s place, then a movie night, and falling asleep on the couch before the main antagonist had even been introduced.

“He hasn’t been eating much, either. I’m worried about him losing weight. I know the exam must be frightening him, but this…”

Even in his current state of mind, it did not take Cloud long to figure out who his two boyfriends were talking about. To be the cause of their worry, however…

Angeal sighed. “I guess we can only hope that if something is the matter, Cloud will come to us in his own time for help.”

“Hey, Angeal…” Zack’s voice seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. “You… you don’t think anyone’s giving him a hard time, right? I swear, if any of those nosy, misbegotten, better-than-thou SOLDIER wanna-bes with more brawn than brain so much as touched him-“

…what?! Suddenly it was more than marginally difficult for Cloud to continue feigning sleep. He had not been so naïve as to hope his changed behavior over the past few weeks would have completely passed his lovers’ notice – as the fight between Angeal and Genesis had shown him - but to actually hear them stating their worry over him and then finding out it was based on completely wrong, over the top assumptions…

If only there had been trouble with the other recruits training with him for the entrance exams, he would at least have had a proper reason for his curious mood swings as of late. But like this… there was no explanation, no trigger that Cloud could think of, other than his wonky mind making things up in his head, distorting reality as it saw fit. The young man had everything he could have ever hoped for: A steady income, friends, a third chance to finally achieve his dreams, and most of all, the most understanding, supporting lovers a boy could ask for. And yet here he was, feeling sorry for himself, closing himself off from those very people trying to help him, shunning their every effort.

It came to him in a moment of heart-wrenching clarity: He did not deserve these men.

A whimper, however small, escaped his lips unbidden; the shudder coursing through his body halting the conversation still taking place above him in its tracks.

“Shhh, it’s okay Spikey,” he heard Zack’s voice whisper to him soothingly. The hand previously stroking his hair slipped down the side of his face fingers-first, cradling his cheek and swiping a calloused thumb below his eye. “It was just a dream. We’re here. You’re okay. We’re not going anywhere.”

Even distressed, the boy could not resist the familiar gesture and let himself be lulled back to sleep. And yet, he knew the realization he had gained that evening would not leave his mind for nights to come.

[One month, two weeks till day Zero]

“I’m telling you, Cloud, the guy wouldn’t be able to tell turquoise from cyan if you held a gun to his head, yet here he goes trying to sell me a burgundy curtain that’s clearly a dark shade of maroon. A blind person could’ve seen that! How am I supposed to decorate a stage with bloody maroon? It explicitly states in the set-up of the third act that the curtains are burgundy. Never mind the fact that….” He let the excited chatter of his boyfriend’s tenor wash over him, slowly starting to unwind the tension in his shoulders (while subconsciously registering the desire never to be asked about the difference of cyan and turquoise at gun point, as he had a feeling he would not emerge unscathed).

Frankly, he had been expecting things to be awkward, if not strained, between him and Genesis after what he had taken to calling the ‘dining-out disaster’, especially after overhearing Genesis' thoughts on the matter during his fight with Angeal. And for a while, it had – though in hindsight, he wasn’t quite sure anymore if that was actually owed to hostile vibes from Genesis’ side or simply the fact that Cloud had tried his best to give his hot-blooded lover a wide berth after the incident.

He had been a little hesitant, at first, when he’d gotten the invitation via PHS message to help out with dinner before Sephiroth came over, but now that he was here, back in Genesis’ cozy apartment, he realized how much he had missed the familiarity. Whereas he didn’t particularly mind being at his other boyfriends’ abodes, this one simply felt the most like home to him and was the one everyone tended to flock to automatically (seeing as Genesis never stopped complaining about bug-infested plants at Angeal’s apartment, Sephiroth’s never felt quite lived in, and Zack’s Second Class lodgings were actually on a completely different floor).

Due to being frequented so often, the place had changed with time – just little things, like the fifth chair added to the dining table in a slightly off color, the picture frames of treasured memories of all five casually scattered across cabinets and shelves, or the crude drawing of a smiling purple cow curtesy of one Zackary Fair pinned with magnets to the fridge door – a story for another time.

Yes, it was easy forgetting about his troubles and sleepless nights, the feeling of being stretched too thin as of late, while mashing potatoes in a bowl and watching Genesis mix ingredients for some creamy desert seemingly at random, while still managing to underline his impassioned narrations about stage design (a new pet project of his) with agitated hand gestures. It lulled the cadet into a sleepy stupor that he was only snapped out of once he realized the First was now addressing him directly with a question.

“What about you, Cloud? You haven’t been talking much about your friends from infantry lately. Any trouble in paradise?” he was asked with a wink. Turning back to the mashed potatoes, Cloud missed the slightly too sharp gaze thrown his way. He was suddenly reminded uncomfortably of Zack and Angeal’s conversation, worrying about him being harassed by the other recruits-in-training.

“Nahh,” he returned with an uneasy laugh, setting down his bowl, “Just haven’t had the time to hang out much with my buddies lately. Too much to do, what with the exam and all, y’know?”

Genesis nodded, though the calculating gleam had yet to leave those eyes. Wanting to distract him, the younger continued, forcing his voice into a semblance of normalcy: “Though – man, you should’ve seen Matthews on the patrol just the other night. Not to rat him out or anything, but he was kind of wasted because it was his and his girlfriend’s anniversary, and anyway – we were all making a little fun of him, when suddenly this huge-ass—“ The swiping movement of his arm was suddenly cut short when the back of his hand connected with something vaguely cold and firm, followed by a brief moment of weightlessness as the resistance gave way and a loud, tinkling CRASH.

The young man’s heart seemed to come to a quick standstill, before continuing at approximately thrice the speed as he realized what exactly he had just artfully pushed right off the kitchen island while trying to embellish his infantry tale: Genesis’ twenty-something year old glass dish, decorated with careful, intricate engravings of Banora Whites on the edge, one of the precious few things the redhead had deemed worthy to take with him from his old hometown; set out in advance to be filled with desert later.

Cloud felt like he was going to be sick.

All cozy feelings of good humor gone, he dropped to his knees immediately, the first apology already out of his mouth before his skin touched ground. Dear Bahamut, when he kills me, please let it be quick.

“Shit! Sorry, gosh I-I am so sorry, I–“ He didn’t even notice his breathing starting to pick up dangerously, concentrated on his task of scraping together the glass shards with his bare fingers, hoping some of the mess would still be salvageable – it wasn’t.

“Cloud.”

“-should have been paying better attention, I’m so sorry-“ Didn’t feel the sharp edges cutting into his shaky hands, drawing blood to the surface. Stupid stupid stupid, can’t do anything right Strife can you you clumsy idiot of a-

“Cloud.”

“-gonna pay for it, or find you a new one, I-” The touch of long, warm fingers on his cheeks was enough to snap him out of his ramblings for a moment. Squeezing his eyes shut, he said his last prayers and waited for the inevitable Firaga to the face. Needless to say, his mind stumbled to a screeching halt when suddenly, hot lips pressed against his own.

The kiss lasted only for a few seconds, but was enough to shock the cadet into silence. When Genesis pulled away, he locked his gaze firmly with Cloud’s wide-eyed one, the grip on his chin gently, but decidedly keeping his head in place. “It’s okay, Cloud.” Each word was enunciated slowly and clearly, and there was a frown between Gen’s eyes. Cloud wondered what he was missing.

“You…” He had to swallow a little. “You’re not – mad at me?”

His boyfriend shook his head slightly. “I can promise you, I am not mad at you and I am not upset about the bowl.” Finally leaning back a little, out of Cloud’s personal space, the man spared a glance at the glass shards between them. Cloud wondered for a minute when the other had kneeled down beside him. “If anything, I’d been thinking about getting a larger one for a while now – with five hungry mouths to feed, this one just hasn’t been quite cutting it anymore.”

Apparently satisfied that his youngest lover wasn’t about to break into a fit of stuttered apologies again, Genesis’s eyes focused instead on the torn up, bleeding hands now hanging limply at Cloud’s sides. Taking them into his own by the wrists and turning them over, the First inspected the injured appendages before carefully pulling the young man to his feet. “C’mere,” he mumbled, pushing Cloud into one of the bar stools behind the kitchen island.

Only then did Cloud take notice for the first time of the burning in his chest and slight vertigo, whirling the kitchen around his head for a moment, making him nauseous. His breathing was still slightly erratic, but slowing down. Had he really come this close to having an anxiety attack again? Huh.

Before Cloud even had a chance to note the older man’s absence, he had returned with a pair of tweezers. After using them to get rid of the tiny glass shards that had gotten stuck to the damaged skin, he enveloped both hands with one of his own and cast a Cure that he held with the other. The warm, green light left behind a tingling feeling that seemed to spread out through Cloud’s body.

All this had been done in silence; the elder perhaps realizing the younger’s need to briefly organize his thoughts. After handing him a wet towel to clean away the blood, Genesis proceeded to take care of the small mess on the floor. Thankfully, the dish had been empty, the desert still waiting in Gen’s mixing bowl to be decanted; thus, clean-up was a quick affair.

“Get the plates?” Eager to be of use, Cloud dropped the bloodied towel in the sink and sallied forth to set the table. Sephiroth would be here soon.

Dinner went quietly. The young cadet had retreated into his now familiar shell again, clearly unwilling to talk about the experience, the elder willing to leave him be for now. Sephiroth seemed to feel the tension in the room, but lacking the social skills of his more extraverted boyfriends, saw himself unable to diffuse it. The two older men made quiet conversation, while Cloud tried his very best to ignore the loaded gazes Genesis kept throwing in his direction.

…

From this point onwards, things kept going downhill; if they hadn't already been going in that direction for a while now.

At first, Cloud had tried his very best to please his lovers – bring them treats, volunteer to do the dishes, a favor here and there – in an attempt to quell the deep-set feeling of guilt in his chest, of being unworthy of these brilliant men's attention.

This feeling had multiplied tenfold on one particular occasion: It had been an especially bad day for Cloud when he had been doing his homework at Angeal's apartment one afternoon. A pounding headache behind his temples had brought his long-buried anger issues back to the surface so that when the older man had asked him a simple question, Cloud had snapped at him. He'd apologized profusely, of course, once he'd realized what he was doing, but the other had just waved him off. So when the next day, Angeal had shown up at his room in the barracks with a piece of Cloud's favorite spicy cake in hand – which Cloud knew Angeal was somewhat adverse to himself – he'd almost felt like crying.

All he did anymore was cause his boyfriends grief, so why in Shiva's name did they keep sticking up for him?!

He slowly started to withdraw from them after that, finding more and more excuses not to attend their meet-ups or heed invitations, claiming to be busy, or after a while simply ignoring their text messages. If he wasn't around them, he couldn't hurt them; or screw things up. It was simple logic, really, in his mind.

With time, Cloud's social interactions became limited to the inevitable communication with his superior officers during infantry missions and classes, and his letters to Tifa and his mother. Whereas he steadily upheld a happy front towards his mom, claiming everything was going fine and dandy, Cloud actually found it somewhat easier to be more frank with Tifa. It was the distance, he thought, that made it possible for him to open up to his childhood acquaintance; to mention his worries about the upcoming examination, his sleepless nights and headaches. The heavy guilt in his chest he kept to himself. In return, Tifa talked about her own struggles; of never feeling like her efforts in training with Mr. Zangan were enough, of sometimes feeling weak, powerless; of her stifling fear of wasting her life away in the sleepy little mountain village.

Cloud could hardly find the energy anymore to get out of bed in the mornings; his tight schedule and the promise of disciplinary actions were the only things making him attend the drill before sunrise. Meals were a struggle, forcing himself to down enough sustenance to survive the day, but never enough to stop the dizzy feeling in his head when he stood up too fast. He stumbled on the tracks, got pounded into the ground by his partners in sword works and hand-to-hand, fell behind in class. It was a wonder he hadn't gotten anyone killed yet during his missions.

And all the while, Cloud kept ticking off the days in his calendar with big, red crosses.

[One month till day Zero]

That night was spent on his favorite, quiet window ledge in the abandoned storage room of floor 46, looking out over nighttime Midgar and the bustling lights of cars and trains some four hundred feet below, wondering if perhaps his boyfriends wouldn't be better off without him.

It was long after the beginning of the morning drill when the weary cadet managed to drag himself back to his room, way beyond caring. His roommate was, once again, out; probably sweating himself through lap after lap with a red-faced officer shouting after him.

A shaky, red cross was slowly traced across the innocent little square saying 'November 1^st'.

One month.

One single, simple month.

Cloud made it to the restrooms just on time in order to be violently sick.

One month. There was no, absolutely no way he stood a chance of passing the SOLDIER entrance exam anymore. His dream was over. He might just as well pack his bags and move back to Nibelheim, so as not to have to face his failure every day. Or better yet, move far away to a place where no one knew him, to start over.

He didn't even dare think about his four lovers, wherever they might be at the moment, and what their opinion of him must be by now.

Before he knew what he was doing, Cloud was out the door, leaving the barracks, leaving the infantry building complex behind him. His legs broke into a run on their own as soon as he felt fresh air on his face and wind in his hair. Buildings passed by his eyes, anonymous faces, all blending together, but the blond paid them no heed.

He vaguely recalled using the subway to get below plate, away from shining window fronts and curious onlookers, to where people minded their own business. Coming back to himself, Cloud found himself between several piles of rubble and old, broken down cars. He could hear a few children playing in the distance, but apart from that, the place was abandoned.

Breathing heavily, Cloud sat down on a large chunk of concrete.

He shivered. It must have been raining above-Plate, he realized belatedly, noticing the way his dripping wet hair and clothing were plastered to his body. He was too numb to really feel the cold, but his body reacted involuntarily anyway.

“My, you look mighty out of place here, don't you?”

With a start, Cloud turned into the direction of the unexpected voice.

Either the area hadn't been as abandoned as he'd originally thought, or he had simply been lost in thought for a while without realizing he'd drifted off, Cloud mused, but either way he now found himself in the company of a petite young woman in a white sundress, looking at him curiously.

The wooden wagon off in the back, filled to the brim with white and yellow flowers, triggered something in his memory. “...Aerith?” he asked, uncertainly. He doubted anyone else in the slums would fit Zack's description of his friend down here, but you could never be too sure.

The brunette's eyes widened slightly, and she daintily clasped her hands behind her back, rocking on her heels. “Ohh, you know me? I'm sorry, my memory must be getting a little rusty. Have I seen you before?”

Quick to reassure the flustered girl, Cloud held up his hands. “Ahh, no. No worries, you haven't. It's just... I'm a friend of Zack's, he mentioned his 'little flower lady' from below-Plate a couple of times. And I figured there probably wouldn't be that many flower-selling girls in the slums,” he explained.

Understanding bloomed on Aerith' face, but then she narrowed her eyes and tilted her head at him. “...a friend of Zack's? Do you mean as in...” Here she trailed off.

Cloud wasn't sure how much exactly Zack would have told the young woman, so he erred on the side of caution. “I am... a part of the group.”

At this, Aerith' entire face lit up. “Ahh! I see. You must be Cloud, then!” He vaguely noted how handsome the happy smile made the girl look. In another time, in another world where he wasn't happily involved already, Cloud might have considered himself interested in her. “'Hair like a blond chocobo butt, and a pointy, cute little button nose to go with it', is what Zack always said.”

The description startled a snorted laugh out of Cloud. “Yeah, that sounds like Zack alright.”

It felt surreal, all of a sudden. Standing here, still dripping wet, in the eerie not-quite-twilight of the slums between pipes and years-old rubble; talking to this young woman who smelled of spring blossoms and had dimples on her cheeks and knew Zack well enough to impersonate his speech patterns. Cloud felt as though he’d been plunged into a different world. He should be in his combat class by now, getting his ass handed to him, or maybe listen to his class mates’ chatter in the mess hall. Everything was so, so far away right now.

“What... what did you mean, earlier, that I look out of place?” he asked, for lack of anything else to say.

In response, the girl just leveled a pointed, yet playful look at his person. Cloud looked down, and suddenly became aware he was still in his infantry outfit; the fabric clinging to his skin in odd patterns. Huh. Apparently he hadn’t changed out of it after yesterday’s evening assignment.

“You don’t see a lot of infantrymen down here, at least not dawdling and minding their own business.”

“I… guess.”

They slipped into a slightly awkward silence, and Cloud leveled his gaze at the folded hands in his lap, slightly obscured by the dripping strands of hair hanging into his eyes.

Children laughed somewhere in the background.

With a slightly exasperated sigh, Aerith leaned back against her flower cart, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You know, my mother always used to tell me people don’t talk anymore. They live together, they work together, but they never talk. There would be so much less frowny faces in the world if people just told each other what was bothering them.”

Cloud stilled. He wondered, once again, what kind of things Zack shared with his friend.

“Maybe… maybe people don’t know how to word their problems. Or they don’t think they’re worthy of the other person’s attention.”

“Nonsense,” Aerith waved away with a brash move of her hand. “Everybody deserves having someone listen to them, no matter how small or big their problem might be.”

Cloud watched her straighten up again, a determined glint in her eyes that meant business. “Tell you what,” she plucked a white flower from her cart after a short moment of consideration, “I’ll give you a flower for free, if,” the white blossom was waved in front of his nose, “you promise to talk to your precious people. And kick Zack in the behind to come down here again sometime.”

Flabbergasted, it took the blond a moment to process what was being said. When he reached out to take the flower, Aerith quickly withdrew it again, nagging “Promise!”

“I promise.”

“Good.” The flower was placed in his open palm. “Well then, what are you waiting for?” She grabbed Cloud by the shoulder and – with more force than he would have expected – steered him off the boulder, back into the direction he suspected the train station to be in. “You’ve got a job now, Cloud. Don’t dawdle! Shoo!”

Aerith’ tinkling laughter trailed after him as the cadet stumbled the first steps, before automatism kicked in and he continued walking at a measured pace. His head turned around to the woman one last time, but she soon vanished behind a pillar.

Well then.

Cloud’s fingers lightly stroked the ivory petals as he trudged back to ShinRa. Fragile little things, they were; it was a wonder they flourished so well down here.

He’d reached the train station by then and stepped onto the closest wagon heading for above-Plate, flower in hand. Not soon after he’d picked a seat at the back of the compartment, the train took off.

The cadet’s free hand fell away to slip into his pants’ pocket, where it touched the rough corner of a sheet of paper. Tifa’s last letter.

‘…I’ll be honest with you’, it read. ‘I’m bloody worried, and I don’t know how to help you. Talk to someone, Cloud. Please...’

The spiked head softly thumped back against the wall.

‘…us Strifes are made from harder wood than that…’

‘…everybody deserves having someone listen to them.’

 Huh.

Guess he didn’t have much else to lose anymore, either way.

There were some people he owed an apology.

...

“Come in, Cloud,” sounded Angeal’s voice from inside. Apparently, his timid footsteps and unconscious, typical knocking pattern had already given him away to the Mako-enhanced hearing.

After dropping the white flower off at his quarters into a filled water cup and giving the idea some quick consideration, Cloud had decided his calm, dark-haired lover would be the best choice to go to. He was still feeling anxious about Genesis; Zack always seemed like such a happy person that Cloud couldn’t quite imagine the other being able to sympathize with him very well at the moment, and he didn’t want to force an extensive conversation about emotions on the poor, socially-inept Sephiroth.

So, Angeal it was.

Shyly, the boy pushed the door open and stepped inside. The apartment was in its usual state of orderly array, just the way the older SOLDIER liked it. Plants of various shades of green dotted the abode generously in no particular pattern, crammed into nooks and crannies wherever the chance had presented itself. Even in the soft afternoon light filtering through the windows, the pink geranium occupying the side table clashed terribly with the particular shade of red of the squishy sofa, which currently accommodated two SOLDIER Firsts.

Cloud’s heart sank briefly at the sight of the redhead nestled thigh-to-thigh next to his plant-loving boyfriend, followed by a sharp twist of guilt. When had it come to this?

For a moment he just stood there, in the middle of the living room, fidgeting slightly. All of a sudden, his mind was drawing to a blank. “Hey, umm….” He’d been so focused on his choice of finally really talking to his lovers that he’d completely neglected to think on what he wanted to say.

Taking pity on his flustered lover, Angeal rose to his feet, walking over to their youngest to greet him with a quick kiss to the cheek. “Hello Cloud. How are you doing today?”

“Fine, I guess. Uh…” When had it become so difficult to talk to his boyfriends? He couldn’t seem to be able to swallow down the lump which had built up in his throat, choking him.

After a careful once over, Angeal gently took his hand. “Come sit with us, dear.” He was tugged over to the couch and pressed down into the cushions, squished between the two elder men. Still not clear on how he should start or, by this point, not sure anymore what he was even doing here at all, Cloud simply kept his head low and his gaze trained on his twitching fingers, clenching and unclenching in the coarse fabric of his pants. He was hyper-aware of the proximity of his boyfriends next to him and the uncomfortable silence settling over the room.

“So, you seem to have something on your mind, Cloud. Care to share?” Angeal tried to coax out of him; his voice deep and calm.

With no small amount of mental willpower, his fingers stilled. “I…. I guess I do, yeah.” And clenched around fabric again. “I just don’t know where to… it’s kinda stupid, really. Actually, it’s not really that important. I should just…” he made to stand up, only to be held back by a warm hand settling on his thigh.

“If it has you this flustered, I doubt the matter is as unimportant as you make it out to be.”

Cloud sighed. His gaze traveled upwards to meet Angeal’s for a brief second before instantly falling away again. “I….” He pushed a shaky hand through his slightly damp hair, aware of the weight of Genesis’ stare on the side of his head but not brave enough to meet it. So far, the redhead had yet to say a single word since he’d entered the apartment. “I suppose I just wanted to…. apologize, for acting a bit… off, these past few weeks,” finally came the halting explanation. “I’ve just been… feeling a bit down lately.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The voice coming from an unexpected direction surprised him into looking up and meeting Genesis’ gaze head on. Contrary to his implicit assumptions, the man’s expression was slightly guarded, but not hostile. The question had been asked in a soft, probing timbre, gentler than he would have expected.

He took a deep breath before swallowing audibly. “There isn’t much to talk about, really. I just haven’t really been feeling… much like myself lately, y’know?” It was getting difficult to hold that blue-eyed gaze, so he dropped it again, but stayed turned in Gen’s direction. Distantly, he realized Angeal’s fingers had slid into the hollows between his own. “Like I said, it’s stupid, and it’s not like there’s anything really wrong, but I… I…” He had to take another shaky breath, and then it all just tumbled out of him, like the floodgates had been opened.

“I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and I can’t concentrate in class, and I feel dizzy all the time, I- I just don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep getting my ass handed to me in classes because everyone’s just so much better than me no matter how hard I try, and I can never remember all the strategy and materia theory. So now I’m… I’m scared, because I know there’s no WAY I’ll pass that stupid exam, and I’ll be such a fricken disappointment to you, and to my mom, and to Tifa— I’m so sorry I fail at everything and I don’t know why you even put up with me… I can’t— sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe, and I’ve got all these thoughts in my head, and I’m just so, so… tired.”

With these last words, gasping, Cloud finally lifted his pleading eyes to Genesis’, whose gaze had visibly softened from his earlier neutral mask. Elegant fingers reached up to gently cup his cheeks, stroking the skin over his cheekbones tenderly. “Shh…It’s okay, love. Take a deep breath.”

Tears started to prick Cloud’s eyes. “Why’s this happening to me? I don’t understand. There’s nothing wrong, I’m just making a big deal out of nothing; it’s pathetic.”

Genesis’ hands trailed down his jaw and neck to settle on his scarf-clad shoulders, a comfortable, reassuring weight. “These things don’t always need a reason, sometimes they just happen. But that doesn’t mean it's not important, Cloud; or that it can’t hurt you. It’s okay to need a little help every once in a while. We’ve been very worried about you, I’m glad you finally decided to come to us.”

Angeal’s rumbling voice added from behind him: “Your mental health is just as important to us as the rest of you, Cloud.”

“You’re not… mad at me? For being such a failure?”

A frown creased Genesis’ brow and his eyes narrowed slightly. “The only thing I’m upset about – and we will have words about that later, darling – is that you didn’t talk to us earlier.” Already foreseeing the apology building in Cloud’s throat, the redheaded SOLDIER pressed three fingers against his mouth, halting it in its tracks. “But all that matters now is that you’re here and we can work out how to make you feel better.”

“We’re here for you, Cloud.” Angeal’s hand tightened around his.

Suddenly, it became hard to speak around the thick lump in his throat. The tears which had threatened earlier finally spilled over, dripping down his cheeks. “I.. I-I don’t – d-deserve you guys.” His breath hitched.

Instantly, there were warm arms around him, enveloping him, dragging him over into Genesis’ lap and pressing him snug against the knit fabric of his black shirt. Cloud burrowed his face in the other’s neck and clutched at the SOLDIER uniform weakly with one hand. “I never, ever want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, little bird. Have I made myself clear?”

Cloud just sobbed softly in response. He could feel Angeal’s large paw of a hand stroking his arm soothingly. “It’s true, though. You guys do so much for me, there’s no way I could ever be able to repay you for it. All I ever do is make things worse. I dunno why you even let me stick around…” he sniffed.

“Tell me, Cloud…” Genesis easily slipped into his calm story-telling voice. “Ignoring for just a moment enhanced healing powers, if Angeal broke his leg on a mission and couldn’t walk for a few weeks, if he were unable to go to work or even clean up his home, would that make him a failure in your eyes? Would you turn your back on him, deciding he was worthless because he’s not being useful to society or yourself?”

“Of course not!” Indignant, Cloud lifted his chin to look into Genesis’ eyes. “How can you even think that?!”

In favor of replying, the other merely lifted an eyebrow with a tilt of his head.

Cloud huffed. “That’s… not the same.”

“A hurt mind is no less damaging than a hurt limb, darling. It's, quite simply, less visible.”

The blond curled up again against his boyfriend with a sigh. Tears still occasionally trickled from his eyes unbidden, soaking into Genesis’ shirt. He was starting to feel comfortable and toasty warm though, here in his lover’s arms. Gods, how he had missed the physical closeness, he thought as the arm around his waist tightened. He felt like he could just stay in Genesis’ soothing embrace for the rest of eternity, forgetting everything else. He could think of few places that made him feel as protected as he was here.

Cloud didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly the couch dipped and Angeal pressed a cup of hot tea into his hands, at just the right temperature to warm him but not burn his tongue. It was only after the first sip that he realized how bloody parched his throat felt. “I have a feeling you haven’t really been drinking enough lately.”

He shrugged. “I just… forgot about it, a lot.”

“When that cute little brain of yours doesn’t get enough water it doesn’t function right anymore, and it’s easier for your thoughts to get caught up in circles,” Genesis added in.

Cloud made a non-committal humming noise before going back to sipping his tea, glad his breathing had stopped hitching infrequently. He felt more than saw the other two exchange a glance above his head.

“Cloud...” Angeal started. “If you don't have any objections, we would like to call the others down. I know they're around base at the moment, and they've been just as worried as we were.”

The cadet froze. Right. He'd been feeling so relieved about Genesis' and Angeal's acceptance that his mind had so far omitted anything else. He started fidgeting again, all the nervousness and hesitancy from earlier returning. It was ridiculous though; if anything, the past half or so hour should have shown him there was nothing to be afraid of.

“Sweetheart?” At Genesis' gentle prod, Cloud nodded, and Angeal immediately took out his PHS to send a text. Feeling that lump returning to his throat, the blond set the half empty cup down on the coffee table. Angeal pulled Cloud's legs into his lap to give them a light massage.

It couldn't have been more than five minutes later when a short warning knock sounded at the door, before it opened with the swish of a key card and two men stepped inside.

Cloud wasn't sure exactly what Angeal's text had told them, but he could only imagine the picture that presented itself to Zack and Sephiroth as they entered the living room. A small, blond cadet in rumpled-looking infantry uniform smothered between the two SOLDIER Firsts, messy damp hair falling into his face, tear tracks beneath shadowed, blood-shot eyes; the half empty tea cup sitting on the little table.

Wordlessly, the new arrivals made their way over to them. Zack stooped to kneel on the carpet in front of him, reaching out and gently grasping his hands, bringing them to his lips. Cloud barely had a moment to appreciate the disquieted, yet soft, affectionate expression on his face before Sephiroth, who had settled on the couch next to Genesis, turned his head around and placed a loving kiss to his forehead.

Suddenly, it was all too much, way too much. This love they showed him, being smothered in everyone’s affection...

Sephiroth, who was too socially awkward to make small-talk if his life depended on it, yet made the effort to spend time with him in Cloud's quarter after being rejected for a date; who took him to the tower's roof and let him crash on the old couch in his office while he worked and who would lay the world at his feet if he could.

Zack, who roughhoused with him as much as he offered a warm shoulder to lean on when they got wasted on a night out, who made him laugh and roll his eyes and never once complained when Cloud's class work took over his life and cut their time together dreadfully short.

Angeal, who had once taken Cloud out to the wastelands to show him the twinkling desert night sky, who taught him about plants and baked him cakes and never doubted Cloud would eventually come back to them.

And Genesis, flamboyant diva extraordinaire, who had blazed into his life with a passion only matched by the flames he so favored in battle, who used to boost Cloud's confidence by miles with his mere presence and taught him all about the fine, delightful details of life.

Four wonderful, wonderful men; and he had hurt them terribly with his silence.

Cloud felt like he'd been plunged in ice water.

“Spike?”

When Zack started tracing his calloused thumb over Cloud's knuckles, it was over. There was nothing he could do against the tears that suddenly built behind his lids like an oncoming monsoon and spilled over, hot and scalding on his numb cheeks and lips. The frozen feeling spread from his heart outwards, to his toes and the tips of his fingers; and it became hard to breathe around the ice inside his lungs.

“I... I'm s-sorry.” The world turned oddly blurred before his eyes, distorted through the haze of tears, but he had to make sure; had to ensure that his words reached those four around him. Nothing else mattered. “I'm so, s-so s—orry...”

“Shh no Spike, it's okay, hey-”

It was like he'd been turned into an automaton with no voluntary control over his actions. He couldn't stop his breathing from turning into sobs, nor the choked apologies spilling from his lips as though he were a broken, scratchy record player; couldn't keep his hands from shaking violently and twitching into loose fists.

His mind took note in a detached way that he had started hyperventilating, and that that certainly wasn't a good thing, but now his vision was tunneling and the ringing in his ears made it hard to focus. Cloud was distantly aware of being moved by strong hands, and settled with his back against someone's chest.

Blood was rushing through his veins at what felt like a hundred miles an hour, his throat was closing up and his lungs burned and he wondered for a brief moment if this was what it felt like to be dying.

Then, slowly, he became aware of a hand massaging his rib cage, right over his fluttering heartbeat, and lips that barely brushed the shell of his ear. The even, steady voice was close enough to penetrate the white noise in his head. Cloud latched onto it with a vengeance.

“...focus on breathing, Cloud. Breathe with me.”

“I c-can't...”

“Yes, you do. In and out. Deep breaths. Come on.”

Cloud lifted his hands to clutch at the one on his chest. He could feel the person behind him breathing slowly and evenly, and tried as best he could to match their pace. From seemingly out of nowhere, another hand touched his forehead to gently push his head back, where it settled on a soft shoulder. The motion helped straighten his throat and clear his airways. The blond closed his damp eyes and concentrated on the stream of air rushing to and fro his lungs, and Genesis' voice murmuring soothing encouragements into his ear.

Deep breaths. Right.

(Much later, when everything was said and done, Cloud would find out his redheaded lover had quite some experience in dealing with panic attacks, having been subjected to them frequently himself as a child. Back then, he'd explain, it had usually been Angeal to snap him out of them, at which point Genesis would give the man in question a warm smile across the kitchen table.)

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, but slowly Cloud seemed to find his way back to himself. His hitched breathing slowly evened out, his muscles uncoiled, lax hand falling into his lap as he sagged back against Genesis.

Though his entire body felt heavy as lead, Cloud managed to lift his eyelids and was able to take in his surroundings once again.

He was met with three faces equally marred by concern.

While both Angeal and Sephiroth hovered close and sported worried frowns, it was Zack who looked almost as shell-shocked as Cloud felt. He was hugging the blond's legs, running warm hands up and down his calves, and had his chin propped up on Cloud's knee with that wide-eyed, lost puppy look on his face. Somehow, he looked incredibly young.

“...Cloud? Are you- are you okay?”

Cloud wanted nothing more than to reassure his distressed friend, to run his fingers soothingly through those black spikes and down the finely sculpted cheeks. But his limbs were weighted down with stones, too heavy to even think about lifting.

“...yea. Just... tired.”

Instead, it was Angeal who laid a comforting hand on Zack's shoulder and said, “I think we could all probably use a nap now.” He gently steered the Second away from the couch to give Genesis room to lift the blond from his lap up and into his arms. On the way to the bedroom, Genesis carefully passed his load of limp cadet off to Sephiroth, claiming that he and Angeal would make a few phone calls to ensure they wouldn't be disturbed and that Cloud would be put on sick leave.

Darkness was starting to creep in at the edges of his vision, but Cloud could still make out Sephiroth' face close to his, his long, silver mane trailing in tendrils over his shoulder and covering them both under a veil. He wrapped his arms around the older man's neck and burrowed into his warmth, breathing in the soothing, masculine scent that surrounded him.

“I... I'm s-” he started once again, and was shushed once more by a deep, rumbling voice.

“It's okay, Cloud. We will talk once you have replenished your energy. For now, just rest.”

By now, they'd reached the bed, and he felt himself being eased under the covers, boots and armor being removed by steady, practiced hands. Sephiroth climbed in behind him, spooning him, and was soon after joined by Zack. The raven clutched him close, obviously still needing the reassurance that his boyfriend was alright.

For once warm and comfortable in his little cocoon, surrounded by the people he loved and trusted most, as well as mind-bogglingly exhausted, Cloud fell asleep.

…

He slept well into the evening, for once completely oblivious to the goings-on around him. Apparently, Angeal and Genesis had joined the three on the bed at some point in time; it was a tight fit on the queen sized mattress, but they had all been willing to budge close together. Everyone had needed the assurance that their youngest was well and unharmed in their midst.

It was late, around 10, but for the first time in months, Cloud had the feeling of being sort of well rested. Angeal and Zack threw together a quick dinner of pasta for all of them, and then, once they'd sat down at the table to eat, they talked.

Mostly, it was the four SOLDIERs asking questions and Cloud answering, haltingly at first, but then more and more steadily after a few encouraging words from the others. When had things started, what had triggered it, what exactly was going on at all (seeing as Zack and Sephiroth still had to be caught up on that).

After giving it some thought, Cloud realized that his fear of the examinations had only been the tip of the proverbial iceberg. His real problems lay in his sense of self-worth. Or, rather – lack of. The visit to his mother had merely tipped off an issue that had been buried inside of him for a very long time now. He felt the need to prove himself to his mother, to justify his choice of moving to the center point city of ShinRa and ease his guilt for abandoning the single mother in a town that at best tolerated her. That guilt was only reinforced by his unwillingness to tell his mother the truth about his relationship with the others. And then, there was that deep-set feeling of being undeserving of the love and affection the four SOLDIERs showed him, of having done nothing worthwhile at all to have earned it.

All things combined had resulted in Cloud's countless sleepless nights, which were followed by headaches, lack of concentration and appetite, resulting in turn in inferior performance in class which only served to reinforce his fears of being worthless to the others and failing his mother.

At some point in time, Zack reached across the table to take Cloud's hand, trailing his fingers softly over the too-thin knuckles and saying, “You've really run yourself into the ground, haven't you, Spikey?”

Cloud kept his gaze trained on their entangled hands while giving a soft, “I guess...”

“You have become way too thin, Cloud,” Angeal piped in from his spot next to Zack. “I’d go so far as to say you are rather underweight. It’s no wonder you get frequent dizzy spells with such a low blood sugar level. Is it the cafeteria food that’s bothering you? I wouldn’t mind cooking you a proper meal here every evening, or one of the others will if I’m unavailable.”

“I… would love that,” the cadet replied, remembering how good the simple pasta he’d just eaten had tasted; though that could have also been because of his eased state of mind. “But I’m not sure I’ll have the time. I’m still on cleaning duty in the evenings.”

“That is another matter we will need to address.” Sephiroth’ turn now. “We will talk with your commanding officer to have you relieved of the remaining disciplinary action, so that you will be free for specialized training sessions in the evenings.”

“Specialized… training?”

“Cloud…” Genesis fixed his gaze on him. “Between the four of us, I have not a single doubt we’ll still be able to get you properly prepared for your exams in time. You’ve been training hand-to-hand with Zack already, anyway, Angeal can give you some pointers on your sword work, I’ll help you with the materia, and Seph just so happens to know a thing or two about strategy and history. What we need to know first, though… is if you even want to become a SOLDIER.” Seeing the blond open his mouth for a hasty reply, he added, “No Cloud, I want you to really think about this. Don’t do this for us, do it for yourself. We won’t think any less of you if you decide against it.”

“That’s right, Spike!”

“We were not really given a choice about this, Cloud. You are. Decide wisely.”

His jaw clicked closed with a snap.

What did he… want?

It was true. ShinRa had occasionally been caught in a bad light by eco-terroristic groups, saying the reactors were draining the planet of its life force and polluting it. Dirty schemes were rumored to be going on in the higher executive levels, not to mention the lowest basements of the labs.

There were many dark sides to being a SOLDIER, sides the PR department artfully knew to side-step but which Cloud had gotten to witness first hand through his boyfriends, and the job threatened with a life-long commitment.

But was that reason enough to give up on his dream?

A SOLDIER did still have his honor, and used it to defend helpless people from the monsters that roamed the world. They tried to do some good in the world.

And, who knew; maybe Cloud would even eventually be able to help change the organization from the inside, turn it better.

It was worth giving it a try.

“Yes.” He nodded with a determined glint in his eyes. “If there’s any way I can make it, I want to be a SOLDIER. I know it’s not all it’s made out to be, but I want to give it a try. I want to really change something. And I won’t do that as just another mindless grunt in the infantry.”

Genesis seemed pleased with the answer, then narrowed his eyes as Cloud continued.

“But… I’m not sure if I’m okay with the extra training. I mean, there’s a reason I only let Zack help me in the beginning; I don’t want to get any unfair advantages over the other recruits. And getting the help of three Firsts and one Second is hardly what one would call fair…”

It was Angeal who replied to his concern. “I can see where you’re coming from, Cloud; and I am happy you are trying to go about this the honorable way. But I’ll be honest with you… the way things are, I’m not sure you’ll be ready on time if you just train on your own. If you still had some months, yes, I do not doubt you could catch up, but as far as I know, you only have one more month left.”

“It’s not like you need more time because you were lazy, Spike,” Zack continued gently. “You were just going through some tough shit, and had a lot on your mind. That could’ve happened to anyone, really. So don’t feel bad about it, okay buddy?”

Cloud sighed. Apparently, he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Okay.” His gaze wandered from one side of the table to the other, fixing each of his lovers in turn. “Guys, I… I just want to say ‘thank you’. So much. If I’m quite honest, I still don’t know why you all put up with my mess of a self, but I really am grateful, for everything.”

Genesis, sitting next to him, reached out to trail a finger delicately down the side of Cloud’s face, at the same time that Zack squeezed the hand he still held in his and Sephiroth twined his ankles around Cloud’s leg. “One day, I hope you’ll be able to see all that you are worth, little chocobo,” the redhead stated. “But until then, I suppose we will just have to try and show you, every single day until you do.”

[One day till day Zero]

One more push… just one more. Come on, Strife, you can do it… There we go.

With a puff of air, Cloud lifted the weights one more time before heaving them back onto their bar, guided by Zack’s helping hand. He sat up and reached for his water bottle.

“Great job, Cloudy! You’re stemming nearly twice as much as you were last week,” his friend exclaimed loudly. Then, more quietly, he added in a sultry voice, “Lookin’ good, too,” followed by a wink.

The cadet in question chuckled lightly and playfully punched the other in the stomach.

It was true, he had to admit; Cloud really had put on some muscles during the past four weeks of intense training, and his thin, sleeveless workout shirt showed them off quite nicely. Gone was the pallid, sickly-looking skin color and prominent ribs, exchanged for tentative abs and pecs and shining, healthy blond hair that was promptly ruffled by the black-haired Second in revenge for the punch.

Cloud packed his gym bag and together they set off for Sephiroth’ apartment for dinner. The elder slung an arm around his shoulders good naturedly. “No really, though, Cloud. You’re doing great. Gen said you even managed to shoot a fireball at him yesterday? Shiva, they won’t even expect you to actually use any materia yet, just know the mechanics behind them. …did you hit him with it, though? I would’ve payed some good gil to see that!”

“Pff, as if. He just held up a hand and smothered the flames in his glove. He did look pretty proud though…,” Cloud trailed off with a shy smile on his lips.

“He’d better be, Spike! You’ve come a long way…”

A long way, indeed. And not just in training. After a long few days of consideration, fretting, and gentle, calm encouragements, Cloud had finally phoned his mother and talked to her; told her about how he hadn’t been feeling well lately, how much he’d run himself into the ground worrying about the exam, and also about the guilt he felt towards her. He’d hesitantly informed his mom about his real relationship, about the four loving men who had taken him into their midst and been there for him when he needed them most.

Mrs. Strife had taken the news surprisingly well. Perhaps it was the knowledge that his partners had taken good care of her son when she could not, perhaps she’d simply come to terms with the fact that her little boy was grown up, lived in a modern city with different norms and values and could make his own decisions.

Either way, she was curiously awaiting a visit of these people that held such an important position in her son’s life, as soon as they all managed to find some free time to make the trip to Nibelheim.

For a moment, they continued in silence. Zack squeezed his shoulders.

“You nervous ‘bout tomorrow?”

Cloud contemplated.

One month ago, he would have thought it impossible to make the kind of progress he had. He’d thought of the exam as a lost cause, then.

Now, after four weeks of intensive one-on-one sessions with all four of his boyfriends, after sparring with Zack and Angeal until the sweat began to run into his eyes, after soaking up Sephiroth’ substantial knowledge about battle tactics (and playing chess with the older man, of all things), after getting lectured by Genesis about materia theory over lunch (the redhead had come up with ingenious ways of integrating kitchen utensils and vegetables into his explanations); and most of all, after getting a filling, home-made meal every evening and free cuddles and an open ear whenever he needed it, Cloud felt ready.

Maybe not quite as strong as some of the best in his class, but ready. Ready to give his best, and confident it would be enough.

“A little, maybe. Who wouldn’t be? But… I know it’s gonna be okay, either way. Whatever happens, happens. If I get in, I’ll be a happy little camper; and if not, I’ll find something else to do with my life. There’s enough things to do in the world, y’know?”

Zack’s hand came up to ruffle Cloud’s hair once more, but the younger ducked away just in time. “That’s the spirit, dude!”

[Day Zero]

The alarm blared annoyingly and way too early in the morning, but it was okay.

Smothered between Genesis and Sephiroth, the blond cadet had had a restful, refreshing night. The two fed him scrambled eggs and toast, some of which was mooched right off his plate by Zack, who showed up a little later with Angeal to grab some free breakfast of their own.

He got a spatula hit on the fingers by an angry redhead for his efforts.

At six thirty, they all gave Cloud one last peck on the lips and good luck wish before he went to join the other recruits for the first exam.

He was ready. He could do this.

And if it turned out that he didn’t, things were okay too. He would be loved no less by these four, at the very least; he knew that now.

He was not alone.

With a confident smile, he headed out the door.

“Let’s mosey!”

The end.