Baby Steps

By:

Mystwalker

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII. All OCs are mine, though.

A/N: A little one-shot from the same vein as Inheritance. As usual, based off my FFVII: Another Side universe. Couldn't get this one out of my head, so here you go!

XxXxX

Sephiroth walked up to the house in the fading sunlight, wanting nothing more than to finally get home. The ex-SOLDIER, now WRO agent, turned the key in the lock, pushing open the door. It opened into a quiet living room, the curtains drawn partly over the windows to keep out the worst of the summer heat. Sephiroth's hand immediately moved to the number pad by the door, keying in the code that would disable the alarm system before it started to ring. Once that was done, he stood in the doorway a moment longer, surveying the area in front of him and taking in the quiet. It was quiet for once, something that had become rarer and rarer in recent years. In the past, when they had first settled in Edge, the house had contained a sort of tense silence, as though its two occupants were forever skirting around each other, trying to sort out this new relationship between them. Then it became a more anticipatory silence, the silence of waiting. Waiting, in a practical sense, for the next mission, the next call to action, the next set of cries coming from the room down the hall, and waiting, in a mental sense, for the other shoe to fall, as if neither of them could believe that their pasts were truly behind them. Now, though, it was a more peaceful quiet, the whole house seeming to have settled into a sort of sleep in his absence.

He decided he liked it. It was pleasant coming home to the house like this.

He stepped into the house, unholstering Masamune from his back and setting it on its wall mount by the door, just above a familiar red-and-white shuriken. That had been another thing to get used to, walking around without his sword close by. Masamune had been his constant companion for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt like to be secure enough to be without it. But in this, as in other things, Aidan had forced both his and Cissnei's hands. The house needed to be baby-proofed. Blades, guns, explosives and ammunition were not things that could be left lying around for wandering hands to find. The wall mount had been the barest sufferance, installed only because after a few days of trying to keep their weapons locked up in the closet, they were both on edge. Nowadays, the floor was littered not with knives and weapon polish or a half-cleaned gun on the coffee table, but with blocks and toys and crayons turning up just about everywhere. He felt a small smile come onto his face as he walked into the living room, stepping around a train set and a half-finished Lego creation and pausing to glance at a piece of paper covered in crayon scribbles on the coffee table. Zack had mentioned once that he could always tell which one of them was home, or whether both of them were home, before even getting any further than the front door. Apparently, when he was the only one in residence, the house was in perfect military condition, whereas Cissnei took care of the important things like taking out the trash and keeping things hygienic, but tended to leave more things lying around, making the house look lived in. And when the two of them were both home, it was a constant cycle between one state and the other, so the house just felt more "alive". Whatever that was supposed to mean.

He walked past the coffee table, making his way up the steps towards the master bedroom. He'd seen the car in the driveway, so Cissnei was home, but considering the quiet and the time of day, he had a vague idea where she would be. He opened the door to the room slowly, so as not to make a sound and peered inside.

He was right. Cissnei was lying on her side, her arms curled protectively around a silver-haired toddler. She was, from the looks of it, asleep-she didn't stir when he walked in. The child in her arms did, though, and Sephiroth saw him raise his head and attempt to sit up, his green eyes widening as he saw him standing there. He had probably been just about ready to wake up. It was the right time of day. The child opened his mouth, about to call out. Sephiroth stopped him by placing a quick finger to his own mouth, whispering 'Shh'. He stared at him but complied, blinking with wide-eyes as Sephiroth walked over to the bed. Cissnei was still sleeping. He knew for a fact that she hadn't been sleeping well lately, that work, or at least the thought of work was keeping her up. He'd regretted leaving her with Aidan for the week, but they'd both agreed in this case that duty called. His son extended arms towards him wordlessly and he reached out, attempting to lift the small boy up without waking his mother.

Unfortunately, he made the mistake of trying to pull Aidan directly out of Cissnei's grip. At once, her grip tightened protectively, pulling him closer towards her. He saw her expression suddenly change as her dream most likely took a turn for the worse, and she shook her head slightly to the side. "Mm...no...don't..." she murmured in her sleep.

He had no idea which ghosts she faced down in her dreams. There were too many of them, in both their pasts. Entirely too many. But regardless, the damage had been done. He bent down, and as gently as he was able, pushed some of her hair out of her face. "Cissnei, it's just me," he whispered. "I just want to take him outside."

She didn't wake, but she did at least stop shaking. Her expression relaxed, and she seemed to let out a shuddering sigh, her grip loosening. He pulled the toddler from her arms effortlessly this time, shushing him again as he opened his mouth to speak. Aidan had just started being able to string rudimentary sentences together, and he didn't waste any time in practicing that skill. As soon as he stood up, Cissnei rolled over onto her other side, pulling one of the pillows closer to her and continuing to sleep peacefully. He walked back out of the room, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could manage.

When he was halfway down the stairs, he glanced at the toddler sitting in the crook of his arm. Aidan had been unusually quiet, and he had wondered why, but now that he looked at him, he realized that Aidan actually looked like he was actively trying to hold all of his words in. His expression was serious, his lips clamped together. He hid a smile. "You can talk now, Aidan," he said, keeping his voice low.

The boy seemed to catch on, because when he spoke, he was whispering. But his eyes, mako green and cat-like like his own, were fixed on his face. "Where you go?" he asked.

"I was working," replied Sephiroth. He glanced at him. "Were you good?"

"Yes." He spoke with a slight lisp at times, but then again from what he had observed with Zack, most children that age did. He paused, his eyes traveling back up the stairs for a moment before looking back at him. "Mama nappy," he declared solemnly.

Sephiroth nodded, feeling an amused smile come onto his face. "I saw."

"Aidan nappy too."

"You were taking a nap, Aidan," corrected Sephiroth, walking into the kitchen. "You're awake now."

He paused again, and Sephiroth could see him stop, and try to process this new fact for a moment. After a while, he leaned back, resting one hand on his shoulder for balance and looking back up at his face. "Aidan wake?"

He nodded. "Yes," he said. "You're awake. That's what it means when you aren't asleep."

He didn't know if the toddler understood everything he said-he doubted it, but he continued to use full sentences when talking to his son. Zack made fun of him for it, but he didn't see the point in replying in baby talk. The way he understood it, Aidan was the one trying to learn to talk, not the other way around. Besides, baby talk was acceptable when it was actual babies that were talking, but when it was adults, it was just plain ridiculous. Aidan seemed to puzzle over this fact for another moment, before looking back up at him.

"...Papa wake?" he asked.

Sephiroth felt his smile grow slightly rueful, and he shook his head, setting Aidan down in the high chair in the kitchen. "Sometimes," he said, patting him once on the head before walking over to the counters. "I wonder about that."

That was another thing he had had to learn on his own. How to interact with his son. He had been worried-the others had insisted that it would come naturally, but they didn't truly understand. They all had, in some form or another, childhoods to base this sort of experience on, parents who had at least been somewhat nurturing. For his own childhood, the only parent he had known had been Jenova. He had grown under Hojo's supervision without knowing that he was that man's son, and as an adult, he despised his father. His mother-his real mother-he didn't hold much against, but she wouldn't have known how to take care of a child. She had never had the chance to take care of him. He was afraid of what came naturally, worried that he might be too restrictive, too strict, that some part of him might carry shades of his father. And he was afraid at the same time of being too reactionary, of being too lenient, too supportive. He was still a firm believer in discipline, but at what point did someone stop becoming reasonable?

In this, Cissnei didn't know much either. Her own upbringing had been transient, everything she knew of her own parents started and ended with goodbye. An abandoned child in a Junon orphanage, essentially raising herself for six years before letting the Turks finish the job. Her childhood had been a constant struggle for survival followed by years of training and ending in becoming the youngest Turk in Shinra's history. He couldn't think of two people less suited to parent a child, and the other members of their group teased them for worrying about it? He'd seen how she tried to limit herself from being too protective over him, and knew she was struggling with a different sort of quandary. How much freedom was too much? How much was too little? Yuffie teased her by saying that she spent half of her time worrying about Aidan and the other half trying not to become a helicopter parent. She had retorted that being a helicopter parent was a lot less benign when she actually had access to a helicopter, but he knew where her protectiveness was coming from. Raised by the Turks, she was well aware of just how easy it was to lose something precious in this world. For the first time in her life, she had what she wanted, a family, and was worried she would lose it.

His own worries ran deeper-that he had cursed it. His blood. His cells. His genes. But so far, despite his hair and eyes, despite the fact that he was slightly stronger than he should have been, Aidan behaved like a regular child. A 'sweetheart' Aerith called him.

Well, he decided, opening the cupboards and looking through them, that couldn't have come from his side of the family.

"Aidan, what do you want to eat?" he asked.

"Candy!" was the immediate response.

He shook his head. "You can have candy after dinner," he said. "But you need to eat something else first."

"Ice-keem!"

"You can have ice cream after dinner instead, but you need to eat something healthy first." Already aware that this was not going anywhere, he started searching for something easy to prepare.

"Candy and ice-keem!"

"No, candy or ice cream after dinner. One or the other, not both. You have to choose."

"Hmm..."

While Aidan was mulling that over, Sephiroth lifted a plastic container from the fridge, holding it up. "This?" he asked. Aidan made a face. "You have to eat your vegetables," he said. "Or you won't grow." He set it on the counter, then continued to look through the fridge. "How about chicken?" he asked, holding up another container.

"Chicken!" Aidan repeated.

"I'll take that as a yes." Sephiroth set the container aside. "And you have to eat some of the vegetables too, or you don't get ice cream."

"Ice-keem after dinner?" asked Aidan.

"Yes."

Aidan placed both hands on the tray of his high chair, one on top of the other. He kicked his legs back and forth, a slightly conflicted expression on his face as though he were thinking about something important. When he finally spoke, it was in a conspiratorial whisper. "Papa..." he said. "...Auntie Yuffie ate ice-keem before dinner."

"Did she now?" asked Sephiroth, looking up from spooning the food into a plastic bowl. He added just as many vegetables as he reasonably assumed he could get Aidan to eat without him making a fuss, then placed it in the microwave to warm.

"Yes!" said Aidan. He frowned. "She won' grow?"

"No, I'd imagine not," said Sephiroth.

Aidan was silent for another long moment, before coming to a conclusion. "Tell her Papa," he decided, nodding gravely.

"I will make a note of that," said Sephiroth. He took the food out of the microwave and let it cool on the counter top, searching for the spoon that went with the bowl. "Do you want to feed yourself or do you need help?"

"I want."

He prepared the napkins then, having a feeling they would need it.

He had just handed Aidan his food and was watching him eat when Cissnei reappeared, standing in the kitchen doorway. She looked wide awake now, a smile on her face as she crept up behind him. She wrapped her arms around him from behind. They weren't prone to random displays of affection, but on some occasions, it was justified. "Welcome back," she said. "How was Corel?"

"Hot and covered in soot," he replied, turning towards her as she pulled away from him. "I'm glad to be home."

"I'm glad you're home too. You're a little late."

"The mission took longer than expected," replied Sephiroth, folding his arms. He leaned against the kitchen table. "I told Reeve, so I'm assuming he let you know."

"He did," said Cissnei. She paused to wipe up a stray piece of food from Aidan's face, then joined him. "He also asked me if whether or not you were capable of looking after Aidan by yourself. I said you were, but at the moment, I'd rather you didn't have to."

His brows rose, and he turned towards her. "The verdict?" he asked.

"Apparently its necessary," said Cissnei, sighing. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "There's a drug lord operating out of Costa del Sol."

"Have Yuffie and Vincent been incapacitated?" he asked incredulously.

"Vincent's on assignment. Yuffie's on leave-family business." She glanced back at Aidan. "I wasn't happy about this either, but it's the price we pay for being too good at our jobs, I suppose."

Duty called. Again. "When do you leave?" he asked.

"Monday." At the sight of his expression changing, she raised a hand. "I know. It's soon. But it shouldn't take too long. And when it's over, I managed to convince Reeve into giving us the next week of vacation."

Something in the way she said 'convince' gave him pause. "How did you manage to do that?" he asked.

She smiled wryly. "Oh, just some old pictures I found lying around from his days at Shinra. Standard operating procedure, really."

"I must have missed the session on how to blackmail your employer," he said, amused in spite of himself.

"You and I were obviously on different training tracks," said Cissnei. "At any rate, I got Cloud to give me the keys to the villa, and Aerith might just take Aidan for the weekend." Her smile grew noticeably suggestive. He glanced away, already envisioning the separation anxiety that would occur on 'vacation'. He hoped Aerith had braced herself for a series of phone calls just as he was already coming up with increasingly creative ways to keep her phone away from her while simultaneously trying to ease her worries-("Aerith has taken care of children before.", "She has a mako-enhanced son.", "They would call us if something happened." -Well how am I supposed to know if they call if you won't give me my damned phone?!) Gaia, he was even imagining the counter-argument.

But he stopped himself from voicing those thoughts out loud, because he knew she was trying. And in a sense, he was trying too. They both had too many things occur in their pasts, and neither of them had ever really had time before now to heal. Instead, he took a deep breath, and focused instead on exactly what she was suggesting, instead of the anxiety that he thought might ensue. "I'd like that," he replied, returning her smirk with one of his own.

"Like Auntie Aerie!" declared Aidan, breaking the moment and causing the two of them to look up.

Cissnei's smile widened. "Oh, do you?" she asked.

"Yes. She's funny!"

"She's funny?" repeated Cissnei, still smiling. "I don't think I'd call Aerith funny..."

"Do you want to visit her, Aidan?" asked Sephiroth.

"Yes! Visit Auntie Aerie!"

"I think that's settled," said Cissnei, shaking her head. She turned away. "I'll go call Aerith."

"Cissnei," said Sephiroth, just before she could leave.

Cissnei looked up, looking back at him.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," he said.

A look passed between them, one that said she understood what he was trying to say. She smiled, shaking her head.

"Don't be," she said. "After you left, I had a much better dream."

She left the room, leaving him standing in the kitchen. Sephiroth glanced back at Aidan, stepping forward and stopping him from pushing the vegetables around his plate. Her words still rang in his head.

Maybe old wounds were healing after all.

One little step at a time.