Final Fantasy 7

Jesavette

Disclaimer: I hold no claim over this fic. The exact payout for a lawsuit is one fuzzy cough drop.

Notes: taking a break from SW: JD - *ducks objects thrown at her* -to write this. I'm aware that the story line of Cloud in training has been done, overdone and burned to a flaking cinder, but here's my go at it. This little darling may get Yaoi explicit later.

Grammatical errors most likely buried within this work. Hopefully they will be worked out eventually.

Jesavette, part one

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The air was filled with oily smoke, choking those that still lived and fought. The attack had been swift and unexpected and the dead heavily outnumbered the living. Even fewer still were fit to battle.

Cloud lifted his face from the dirt and glanced over his shoulder, watching his barracks burn to the ground. A low groan caught his attention and he ticked his glowing blue gaze to the man on the ground near him. A quick look told Cloud that his wounds were fatal. Cloud ignored him. A week ago he would have been horrified by his own actions. After three days of unrelenting onslaught from the enemy and watching most of his friends die from whatever place he was at the time, he merely dismissed the pang of conscience that arose. He would have been just as content retreating, but his training camp also served as an information-decoding center. Until they could confirm that all equipment had been destroyed and everything burned, they had to hold position.

Cloud rolled over, reloading his weapon close to his body. He also risked lifting his head to check the tracker strapped around his bicep. The blue dots representing the Shinra forces had diminished greatly. Cloud swore and rolled back over, settling himself back in the mud. Why the hell hadn't HQ sent back up, or some delayed trigger charges at least. They could really use some help if the higher ups expected them to hold the base for another twenty-three hours.

Cloud kept his body pressed flat to the ground and crawled, stopping frequently to assess his surroundings. The oil in the air had accumulated on his clothes and hair, camouflaging him to a certain extent. Thank you for small favors, at least.

He stopped suddenly, falling motionless. Moving around in the swirling smoke a ahead as a group of humans. If their upright an obviously stable physical condition didn't tip him off, the uniforms did.

"Oh, fuck," he breathed. Recon troops. No doubt equipped with gas masks and infrared goggles. He had an urge to just jump up, make it easier on them, but he wasn't suicidal. But he was crazy enough to do something other than lay there protectively. He strained to look through the swirling smoke and nearly jumped when they suddenly stepped clear of it. His hazed brain ran through options a little slower than he would have liked, but he was still thinking straight so he took his time. An idea presented itself- along with the chance to do it. The recon group, Cloud had confirmed it, was standing next to what used to the mess hall. Cloud didn't care about that; he cared about at the three tanks sitting outside marked flammable. The group was no more than ten feet from the trio of canisters. He had a chance to take them all out in one move. Slowly he moved his gun into position. Sprawled out in the mud, he took aim on the middle canister. The group hadn't moved. Morons. Even Cloud, a teenage trainee knew better.

"Dumbasses," he muttered to himself. He pulled the trigger. The group jumped and spun toward him, their weapons coming up-

- They were too late. Cloud's dead-on shot detonated the middle canister which sparked off the other two. The group disappeared in a flash of flame, screaming like infants.

"What in the hell was that?"

Cloud had forgotten he still had his headset on. A platoon leader, the only platoon leader left alive was shouting over the wide-band radio link.

"Recon," Cloud answered.

The headset crackled, cutting off part of the return. " …status?"

Cloud cocked an eyebrow. "Crispy."

"Strife, I'm debating whether to reprimand you or kiss you."

Cloud allowed a tiny smile. "Can we avoid both, sarge?"

"Whatever, kid." A burst of static made Cloud wince. All the goddam money in the free world and Shinra couldn't afford decent equipment?

"…over to the west wall."

"Yeah. On it." Cloud glanced around, then began the back aching scuttle to the west wall.

When he finally reached his target he found the whole area torn up and dead bodies everywhere. He saw one of his few still-living friends propped up against a wall, his weapon held tightly in his hands. Blood soaked his uniform and dampened the ground. He looked at Cloud, his eyes wide and red-rimmed. " The hell are you doing here?"

"Sarge sent me." Cloud answered. " What's going on up here?"

"Bomb. Sarge promised a medic."

Cloud sighed. He ducked instinctively as a bomb detonated somewhere nearby. That was the other half of the message he didn't get. "Guess that's me." He began tugging on his friend's uniform, pushing ruined cloth out of the way and probing the wound. The flesh beneath his hand jumped in pain. Cloud closed his eyes briefly then resumed his inspection. There wasn't much he can do. His friend knew it. Cloud squeezed his shoulder and the other boy nodded. Cloud crawled over to the next man still alive. A minor shoulder scrape. At last, something he could help with. He deftly cleaned it as well as he could and wrapped it.

The next man he stumbled across was laying face down. When Cloud flipped him over the first thing he was the handlebar mustache and the brass shining cheerily at him form the man's breast pocket. Aww, great. The Colonel. And he was alive.

(This is a wonderful day. All the men dead here and this one had to survive. Am I being punished?)

"Help me," the Colonel rasped. His face was white and pinched with pain. "Need ko-reps." It was the slang term most often used for the mako-based painkiller distributed within the Shinra ranks. Cloud frowned. He had very little of it left. Giving it to another man under the right conditions could mean, at least temporarily, another set of hands. Cloud debated, then quickly dressed the Colonels wounds, ignoring him as he pleas turned to threats. Dismissing brass was dangerous, but his orders were to hold position and he was within his rights to make any decisions necessary to carry out those orders.

Th next man was in fairly good condition, just tired. His unruly red hair was plastered to his head and he was smeared with grease. When Cloud queried him, he had no injuries to report but he loosed a colorful string of profanities that Cloud had mentally echoed a hundred times over the past three days.

"How much more of this do we have to take?" the redhead asked.

Cloud shook his head. "Another twenty hours, minimum."

The read-head swore again, then introduced himself. "Reno."

"Cloud."

"You stationed here?"

"Training. Troopers, alpha platoon, though that's been blown to hell. Specialty in tactics and field medicine."

Reno whistled. "You're only a trainee?"

When Cloud nodded he arched his back to look over the barricade he was situated behind, then dropped back to his haunches. "Holy fuck, kid. If they don't send you straight to SOLDIER, I'm personally going to launch a campaign."

Cloud tilted his head curiously.

Reno raised an eyebrow. "I saw what you did two days ago, in the trenches."

Cloud looked into the distance, this time not reacting when something rocked the base's foundation. He looked back to Reno. "You're not stationed here."

"Turks. Got tapped to be the gopher boy to jog out here and give your commanding officer a message. I was just getting ready to leave when this got thrown in your faces. Over all, I can't say I'm impressed with this batch of recruits, but the guys that are still alive have my respect for life."

A half grin split Cloud's dirty face. No one 'jogged' here. They were four hundred miles from the nearest Shinra installation.

The bit of lightness was welcomed, but Cloud had to keep moving. He raised his hand and mocked a sword salute." See you around."

"Later kid. I'm serious about what I said. They better stick you in SOLDIER after this."

Cloud scowled, his unusual eyes flashing. "Right now I'll settle for being extracted."

*****

The next place sarge sent him was the communications office. The last guy sent had botched his orders up and the thing was still standing.

Cloud found the last guy sent slumped over a large bag. There was a neat slice in the back of his skull that extended through to his forehead. Shrapnel grenade no doubt. Cloud pushed him off the bag, hoping to whatever higher power hadn't lost interest in the doings down here that the bag was stuffed full with explosives. What he found was a bag full of gear. It looked like every bit of personal crap the trooper had was shoved in the bag. Cloud could hardly lift it. No wonder the guy had been caught by a frag grenade if he was fumbling over this thing. The blond methodically emptied the contents until his half-conscious prayer was answered. At the very bottom was a pair of time delay detonators. Hell, forget training- with enough of these, the most infinite loser of the washouts could survive. One could decimate a seventy-meter area. Cloud didn't want to blow up two hundred some odd feet of base, however. He gingerly popped the case and removed half the detonate plaster, rolling into a ball and sticking it in his utility belt. He snapped the casing shut again. Ducking into the small building he set the detonator in the middle, right next to the classified file case. He set the timer to give himself a minute-ten to get out of range and then scrambled out as the countdown began. He stopped just long enough to pat down the dead guy outside and remove everything useful, then ran for cover. He slid behind a concrete wall and curled on himself. Five seconds later the detonator blew. The office jumped on its foundation as the middle exploded outward. Superheated debris rained down on Cloud. He curled up tighter.

He had no idea how long he stayed behind the wall, but he knew it was well longer than he should have. His agonized body didn't want to move anymore, much less work and he really wanted to do nothing more than sleep. The demanding squawk of the sergeant on the headset finally prompted him to shift.

"Strife! Strife! Dammit, kid, answer! Strife!"

"I'm here," Cloud answered wearily. He forced himself to his knees. "Com office destroyed."

"I saw. Good job. Fall back to the south point. Tell Mayern that we're going to be spending the night out here, no lights, ration out the food and set up for sub freezing temps."

Cloud suppressed a groan. He hated cold. It had been a source of many jokes, since he came from a mountain town, but the truth was the Cloud absolutely hated to be cold. No doubt that the sarge knew that but Cloud kept his comments to himself anyway. "Yes sir. Strife out."

*****

It was nearly thirty hours later when the first Shinra transport set down under the cover of protective counter fire. The injured were the first loaded, then the most of the trainees. Shinra put a lot of stock in its recruits, holding them at a high value. Cloud was kept back, assigned to track and tag the location of all remaining survivors for the extraction teams. Then he was stuck IN one of those extraction teams. He did his job willingly, but he collapsed on the floor of the last transport, nearly unconscious. He was dimly aware of hands pulling at him, but the lock in his mind that kept his body going by telling him that he still had a job to do had been snapped off and he passed out cold before the transport was under way. He had the time. It was at least a day's travel to the closest base.

*****

Technically, everyone should have been cited for incompetence. The base had pretty much been at a standstill the past six days and there was little the instructors and brass could do. After word of the assault on the base at Kelby had leaked down recruits could barely be forced through their drills with any semblance of attention. Images of death and fear for companions hung over the base like a lead blanket. The much-revered SOLDIERs were barely noticed as they moved through their daily routines quietly, cutting the blanket of preoccupation just long enough to be afforded the necessary respect before it sealed up again, drawing everyone's attention back to a battle no one could see.

Zack carried his gear over one arm, his ever-present buster sword strapped across his back. The tense frown on his face was not natural nor was it reassuring. The black haired SOLDIER stalked to the quarters he shared with Sephiroth and dumped his gear by the door, shedding the heavy shoulder armor. He yelled once up the stairwell to the second floor then strode to the small kitchen.

Sephiroth entered the kitchen just as Zack swallowed a handful of pills and leaned on the counter, his head down. Seph moved behind him and gently worked his fingertips in small circles just under the younger SOLDIER's shoulder blades. Zack didn't move for long minutes.

He finally raised his head, his luminescent eyes glowing dimly. He exhaled deeply. Sephiroth trailed his hands down Zack's back to rest on his flanks. "Everything all right?"

The SOLDIER looked over his shoulder and the silver-haired general. "Fine." He moved away form Sephiroth's touch.

Sephiroth curbed his rising irritation. Zack had been less than responsive for weeks, becoming evasive whenever Sephiroth pushed the issue of intimacy. "Is there a reason you called me, or did you just want to interrupt?" At this point he wouldn't put it past Zack. His lover's odd behavior was becoming more and more eccentric.

"There's a reason. The transports from Kelby arrived, they're offloading now."

Sephiroth's expressed settled into a frown as he followed Zack out of their housing to the main grounds of the base. He'd been the first to speak to his superiors after the unexpected assault on Kelby. His request to take a support team to reinforce the undefended base had been denied the first time and the three times after that. They cited 'reasons that cannot be discussed due to classified content.' Sephiroth knew it was a political defense screen to keep their enemies from believing they'd hit a sore spot. The general still had a hard time swallowing the fact that Shinra allowed the trainees at the base to be sacrificed over a matter of pride. Their enemies already knew that attacking the base would inflict some degree of damage- they wouldn't have assaulted the base otherwise. It grated him. It grated Zack worse. How many dead over some fucked up delusion of security?

Sephiroth stopped at the edge of the commotion. Transports were gathered in a half circle, expelling troops by the dozens. Frankly, Sephiroth was surprised so many were still alive. Others gathered around the survivors: med crews, officers, other recruits…

Sephiroth raised his head when a familiar face hopped from the transport. They'd gone through training together but while Sephiroth had advanced, he'd chosen to stay behind to help train the newcomers. He didn't notice Sephiroth; he seemed to be watching something else. The General angled his head to see what.

A young boy, no older than sixteen, was furiously batting away medics trying to get at his injuries. At first all the general saw was a dirty boy. Then glimmers of an unnatural allure began to show though. The boy turned in his direction briefly to snap angrily at someone behind him and he saw the boy's eyes. They glowed deeply from within, an astounding shade of anomalous blue. Sephiroth glanced at Zack. The SOLDIER was staring back, one eyebrow hiked up. He tilted his head in the direction of the boy; Sephiroth shook his head. He'd never seen this one before.

Sephiroth waited patiently for his next chance to catch Sarge's attention and wave him over.

*****

"Strife. Over here."

Cloud altered his stride and angled toward the sergeant. He was standing next to someone that Cloud thought he should know. The supposedly mild sedative he'd been given after finally submitting to a thorough examination was fairly potent. Apparently that was Shinra's operating standard; throw troops in the fire, then drug them until they can't complain about the burns. The Sarge raked an expert eye over him apparently deciding against saying whatever was on his mind. "They get you cleared?"

"I've been poked, prodded, bandaged and inoculated against thirty different viruses, half of which I've never heard of."

Sarge nodded curtly. "Good enough."

The large man eyed Cloud critically. "Sergeant Kiler has been telling me your exemplary actions at the base."

"Thank you sir." Cloud said.

"You look dead," Sephiroth said. " What did they promise you to keep you standing?"

"I was promised a hot shower, dinner and sleep."

Sephiroth's eyebrow jumped but his cool expression didn't falter. "They'd have to offer me a good deal more than that."

"Right now, that's all I want." Cloud's guileless expression led Sephiroth to believe it.

The general examined Cloud thoughtfully. They way Kiler was eyeing this boy suggested that there was more to this than plain concern for a man under his command. Sephiroth wondered if they were sleeping together. He could muse on it later; the boy looked ready to hit the dirt. "Go. Get your rest."

Cloud barely mustered a sloppy salute. "Sir."

The general watched him depart, stumbling tiredly and moving on through sheer willpower. "He looks ready to drop, Julis."

"He's alive. That's more than anyone can say for the rest of his squad."

Sephiroth's eyes sharpened. "His entire squad is dead?"

Sarge nodded. "Artillery shell took out the barracks. Killed his entire squad but he somehow got out without a serious injury."

Sephiroth nodded absently, then looked his old friend up and down. "Get some sleep. You look as dead as Strife."

The Sargent saluted tiredly.

*****

After the excitement over the survivors faded and watching the bloodied troops emerge from the transport became depressing, Sephiroth retired to the quarters he shared with Zack.

Sephiroth swirled the tumbler in his hand gently.

"Will you drink that already?"

Sephiroth paused and ticked his severe gaze to Zack. He was stretched out on their bed, belly down, watching Sephiroth. "Am I bothering you?"

"Yes," Zack said shortly. Sephiroth resumed his methodical swirling. Zack rolled out of bed and pulled the tumbler from his lover's hand and quickly tossed back the liquor. He set the crystal glass down and locked eyes with Sephiroth belligerently.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed dangerously. He stood up, squaring off against Zack. The SOLDIER stared back unflinchingly. Abruptly Sephiroth sighed. Every night with Zack ended in a fight. He stepped forward, pressing an almost chaste kiss to his firm mouth. Zack allowed it. He brushed Zack's tense jaw with his knuckles, twining the fingers of his other hand with his lover's. Sephiroth reached behind to flick off the single dim light and took them both down to the bed. He half pinned Zack beneath him, his eyes searching Zack's face. The younger man's intense violet eyes flickered uncertainly. Sephiroth sighed again, dropping his head over Zack chest. Disappointed, he shifted his weight, allowing Zack to roll away.

Zack settled on his side, facing away from him. He felt Sephiroth's palm brush his spine, then hesitantly snake around waist. Pained, Zack closed his eyes as Sephiroth held him closely. What he felt for his lover wasn't true deep love, although it might have been similar. But he couldn't do this much longer without hurting them both. He reached over his head to stroke Sephiroth's neck gently. He left his arm there, the most he'd done in weeks. Sephiroth silently urged Zack to continue, but he didn't. He stopped, leaving his strong arm draped over his neck. Sephiroth forced down a growl of incompleteness. He was not content with merely being close, as Zack seemed to be. He wanted more, but he was reluctant to bring this to Zack's attention. Despite his own internal conflict, he sensed one of greater proportions in Zack and was determined to give him the time he needed. In any case, there was no way he could force Zack and hope to have both of his arms attached come morning. This idea made him smile into the back of Zack's head. His chosen lover was indeed strong, frighteningly so to anyone but Sephiroth.

The general found his refused attention wandering back over the events of they day. He'd have to debrief a number of people tomorrow, in addition to meetings to attend, higher ups to reassure. He'd also be able to get a look at Cloud Strife in the daylight. The brief meeting with the trooper had been disconcerting. Sephiroth hadn't been able to pin down the familiar manner of the boy. He resolved to track the boy down and talk to him at length.

Zack moaned softly in his sleep. Sephiroth abandoned his thoughts instantly, rising up slightly over his lover. Zack's expression was vulnerable, and lined with unease. His muscled body twitched, twisting something in Sephiroth's chest. Zack's withdraw from him was painful, but the worst was not the rejection. It was having to watch Zack suffer alone.

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This fic most likely will not follow any established information on FF7. This is due mainly to the fact that I have never played the game. If you would like to see this fic continue, your must Review. I will not begin writing the second part until I have at least twenty reviews (this is simply because I have a half dozen other fics in the works and prioritize according to the one people want the most.)

Muchas gracias