Miasma

Chapter 6

Tomorrow.

The word kept echoing through Genesis' head even as he and Tseng beat a swift path back to HQ. It was nearly 03:00, and what little time was left to them had to be spent coordinating their efforts to make sure that everything went smoothly. And really, 'smoothly' was a relative term; there was nothing smooth about this. It felt hastily, almost desperately thrown together; and he didn't know if that meant that all other attempts would have been doomed, or if this was just a really bad idea. They split up upon returning to the Upper Plate, nothing but wordless nods as a form of communication. As much as he hated to do it, the redhead made a point of circling back to Garter's & Gorgons to pick up his coat, making sure he stumbled on his way out...giving a good show of being so intoxicated he couldn't see straight. He tried not to think about what could have happened if his sister and her unusual companion hadn't intervened. Realistically, what had been happening was less consensual and more running along the lines of assault, but he'd been there too many times to be able to consider himself a victim. Aerith was right about owning up to it, but there would be time to think on that later...when things weren't so ridiculously urgent.

His tail returned when he was about two blocks away from Headquarters, this time with much more focus than before. Under different circumstances, he might have been irritated, but he'd been out from under surveillance for several hours and he could only count himself lucky he'd been able to avoid if for that long. Genesis forced himself to slow down once he entered the lobby; made his steps casual if a little bit weaving as he passed a receptionist who he was fairly sure hated him for leaving her hanging six years prior. Thankfully, she seemed too preoccupied to give him her usual vitriol-imbued glare, and he wondered idly if luck was on his side or if it was just too early for anyone to give a fuck about him. From Reception the redhead went straight up to residential, trodding through empty winding corridors and standing in bereft elevators like a misplaced, anxiety-filled ghost. By the time he made it to Angeal's apartment the Commander was vibrating with tension. Because it was now or never and he needed his childhood friend's help with this or it was all going to go to hell. It took five or six series of sharp raps for the dark-haired FIRST to apparently pull himself out of bed and answer the door. When he did, he looked-if possible-so irritated to see him Genesis half-expected to be turned away.

Instead, his fellow SOLDIER grumbled something gravelly and grudging before palming the access key and stepping back. The younger man thanked whatever stars were on his side as he swept over the threshold and into the darkness of the flat. Angeal's apartment was considerably more homely than his; with a good amount of scattered disarray and personal belongings that gave it less of an art-project feel and more of a lived-in feel. Pictures of several squadrons he'd trained hung all over the walls and there were many photographs of him and Sephiroth while they were all still in training. The silver-haired man had quickly gotten out of the initiate stage of things while they somewhat straggled behind, but there was still a fond, nostalgic ache behind each snapshot. A few commemorative trophies were shoved into cabinets and display stands on the far side of the living room, but most of the older man's apartment was taken up by a somewhat bizarre collection of nautical paraphernalia. It was no secret that the owner of the Buster Sword had a great love for all things seaworthy, and most individuals who knew him well enough were aware that a day out sailing was as good a birthday present as any. A decorative wooden paddle rested just under the double-hooks where Angeal hung the Buster sword, and an old diving helmet had been converted into a sort of exotic fish habitat. Other than that, the flat was filled to the brim with related antiques and various knick knacks, but Genesis remained near the door, anxious to get this over with.

"What's this about Genesis?" Angeal queried wearily, scrubbing a hand over his face. He paused and sniffed tentatively, his nose wrinkling as he did so. "You reek! What have you been doing?!" He eyed the state of the redhead's disheveled clothes and groaned. "Gaia, Gen, tell me you didn't-"