You walked across time and space, and who knows what, to shake me out of my despair. You can't believe that you returning to your despair wouldn't matter to me. Even if it's rage and hatred... even if I won't like it. I can listen.
[ It can be a nightmare that he won't be able to do anything about. But Sephiroth would be trapped in that nightmare. If he has understood things correctly... Sephiroth has not had anyone to talk about it. For however long it has been, he has been trapped with what Jenova has been asking of him and his own pain, alone. If he can alleviate that for a moment...
It will not change anything. But it will be more than nothing.
[The way those words make Sephiroth's entire chest ache is profound. It doesn't quite reach his face beyond a subtle twitch of his mouth and the furrow of his brow, but he finally meets Angeal's gaze again.
He wonders... if they had a chance to speak again, would his Angeal still speak to him this way? If he's been watching over things from the Lifestream, he'll have seen every wretched, hateful thing Sephiroth has done. Surely he would be disgusted, honorable as he is. So many lives have been lost by Sephiroth's hand alone, and many more by the domino effect of his actions. Cloud - by far - had suffered the most, but he was also the one to free him from Jenova's shackles, to help him reclaim some of his memories. It's because of Cloud that he's able to be here at all, speaking to Angeal like this-- like a man rather than a cryptic monster with a sinister agenda. They'd shared some kind of kinship by the end-- nothing that could ever fill the respective voids in their hearts. They'd done too much damage to each other, but... the least he could do was grant Cloud peace after that, to allow him to be with his loved ones once more.
It meant leaving Sephiroth to his loneliness again, but... it's what he deserves, really. Even as it rankles him with rage and hatred.
He doesn't deserve... this. Angeal's empathy, his kind eyes, an ear and shoulder free of judgment. For a moment, he's even tempted to turn him away-- to cut the floor underneath him and return him to his timeline without a word. His fingers even tighten around Masamune, the leather of his gloves creaking with tension.
...But something stays his hand. For a moment, he could almost swear he feels fingertips brushing against his knuckles, the back of his hand. A squeeze. 'Stop.' But of course... when Sephiroth spares a glance, there is nothing. If he hadn't already been riddled with madness once, he'd say he's losing his mind. An exasperated breath pushes from his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line... but his grip on Masamune loosens.]
Stubborn fool. [It somehow sounds as fond as it does annoyed.] As you wish.
...There is nothing for me to return to. Merely emptiness. I am forbidden to join with the Lifestream, and so I wait only for the world to begin anew. Changing fate for others has done little to change mine.
[ He might not be this Sephiroth's Angeal, but he is Angeal. And, once he has had reason to stop thinking of himself as the obstacle that needs to be removed for things to improve, he has plenty of energy to pour into others. And Sephiroth is right there.
The answer is somehow... worse than he thought, though he did not know what to expect. His mouth firms into a thin line, but he doesn't flinch, or turn away.
Although, after a moment, he frowns. ]
Even if it may be... it's not a sound long-term solution. If solitude and despair and rage are what caused you to succumb and wreak destruction, leaving you alone and hopelessness to your unsated rage... will that not lead to the same disaster?
[ He is not trying to give hope. But he is certainly puzzled. It is possible that nothing else can be done, but leaving Sephiroth like that? With his powers to traverse realities at the very least still intact? ]
Perhaps there will be something else, eventually.
[ Something more, perhaps. Who is he to know? Sciense sometimes moves too fast for him, though he grasps principles; the way of the Star?
But he knows enough tactics and strategy to know that's just a ticking bomb. And that's even less what he wants, for his friend. (For the man he loves. The thought floats in his mind, and, for once, he doesn't push it back down. If he can do this... if he can spare his Sephiroth this fate. Perhaps he will be deserving of trying to claim it.) ]
Oh, Angeal. [A laugh entirely void of mirth. It's not quite mocking. All of this is quite a lot to digest, especially when you were just moments from relinquishing your life under the assumption that it would alleviate some of kind of burden. Angeal is being forced to look upon a reality that extends far beyond anything he ever thought possible. Anyone would be confused, buckling under such staggering weight. It's a credit to Angeal that he's meeting this head-on at all. Still--] Were it only so simple. The workings of Fate are far more elusive.
Every attempt I have made to not only stray from this course, but to allow other versions of myself to do the same, has seen Fate move to guide me back.
Perhaps I will never know peace. ...Perhaps I was only ever meant to know destruction.
[And maybe - at the very core of all of this - that's why Sephiroth keeps trying to save Angeal even when it will change nothing for his own reality. If he could see a world where his hands are capable of something other than bloodshed, a world where the lives entangled with his aren't damned only to suffering, then... maybe that will be enough.
--But this is circling around to a place Sephiroth is unwilling to linger in, even with Angeal.]
Enough. [In an instant, Sephiroth's cold veneer washes back over him; he brushes past Angeal without sparing another glance.] If there is nothing else here you wish to see, let us return.
[Once more, and with the same amount of effortlessness as before, he cuts a swath through the air, reopening the portal back to Modeoheim. He hesitates only long enough for Angeal to make the final decision.]
[ That was not quite what Angeal meant, but the fact that Sephiroth was being... guided along a course only makes something steady in his gut. He doesn't know what, or why, and perhaps he'll figure it out after some time to think. Not just now.
For a moment, he bows his head, raising the buster sword, blade up, to press his forehead against the flat of it.
Then he lowers it again, stepping closer to the opening.
Hesitates. ]
Oh, fuck it all.
[ A rare, very rare expletive, from him.
As he steps by Sephiroth, he leans to press the lightest kiss to his cheek, before stepping back to the solid world once again. ]
That. Is my promise. That I won't give up again. For both of you.
[ Only then does he turn to look at Sephiroth. Not even this cold can diminish that ethereal beauty of his, and Angeal squares his shoulders, hands behind his back into a rest of respect, but eyes soft, and warm. ]
[It's rare to see Sephiroth genuinely caught off guard, but Angeal manages to do it with one small kiss to his cheek. His eyes widen a little, a barely audible breath of surprise, the subtle way his body tenses-- he doesn't quite know what to do with himself in that moment.
Affection is such a foreign thing to him anymore.
But he doesn't pull away from it. He merely watches Angeal instead-- watches until the other man turns and makes his promise.
...What a stubborn, stubborn man. But it's nice to see after all of that despair. Sephiroth hums a soft laugh.]
Should you falter, I'll be watching.
[To anyone else, that might sound like a threat. But this, too, is a promise. Sephiroth carved a pathway to this world, and in doing so, he can now easily find his way back. For a time at least, he doesn't intend to stray far. If anything goes wrong, he'll do what he can. If Angeal calls for him, he will answer-- like some twisted form of guardian angel.
After all... he has little to go back to. He may as well make sure this world stays its new course. And... in some small way, maybe it'll soothe some of the pain to see Angeal seizing another shot at life. To see him thrive after clawing his way up from the depths of despair.]
...Go. Live.
[For now, Sephiroth has lingered enough, and Angeal... has a lot to do. He closes the portal between them, and it feels bittersweet. It won't be the last time they see each other, but... it does make his foolish heart yearn for his Angeal once more.
An unattainable dream is still a dream, indeed...]
[Sephiroth isn't eager to return to the Edge of Creation, to its deafening silence and vast loneliness, but... there's little point in lingering in this place between places. He has no desire to look upon any more memories; his heart feels ragged enough. Frankly, he's not sure what he expected to feel when he finally reached Angeal. After all this time, he thought he'd walled his heart away from all of that by now, but...
Maybe that was naive. Maybe no amount of ice or distance would have ever prepared him for seeing the man who had once been his entire world again. Angeal - with his gentle hands and kind eyes - has always effortlessly pierced through every shield Sephiroth has ever put up around his heart.
So deeply caught up in this train of thought, Sephiroth almost doesn't register the feather. But once he does, it becomes all he can see-- the white plume is radiant against the surrounding gloom. He slows to a stop just in front of it, hesitating.
It's not the first time he's... seen things, especially in isolation. Whether it's his mind desperately scrambling to cling to some semblance of comfort, or Jenova playing twisted mindgames as she is wont to do, Sephiroth doesn't claim to know. Part of him insists on ignoring it, to keep walking, but... in spite of himself, he crouches down... reaches slowly.
And to his surprise, the feather doesn't vanish under his touch.
Has his mind finally crumbled? Is he so broken that he's conjuring up the sensation of a delicate feather in his palm now?
Finally. I thought the place felt a tiny bit like you. Too empty to have much to go on on, but it was more than nothing.
[ In a place where there may not even be walls to lean against, Angeal somehow is still doing so.
After a moment, he raises his head to look sideways at Sephiroth. Lifts an eyebrow, and despite the trace of levity to his words, his eyes are dark and deep, worried and apologetic. ]
[Sephiroth's body goes rigid instantaneously, the moment Angeal's voice reaches him. The lines in his back and arms run so taut that they look like cords ready to snap, and when Sephiroth turns his head, there's a mixture of emotions. Inevitably, his face settles into something almost feral. Furious. And the way he slowly rises back to his full height-- it's not unlike an attack dog calibrating itself to strike.]
Begone. I have not the patience for your games today.
[His voice is soft, but it carries the force of a blade aimed to kill. Above all else, it sounds... wounded.
Because of course Sephiroth would believe this is Jenova - toying with an freshly opened wound - before he could ever allow himself to believe that Angeal is really here. He won't allow himself to feel that crushing disappointment again-- he cannot... lest he fall under Jenova's oppressive sway once more.]
[Even in his loneliness, Sephiroth never considered Genesis or his whereabouts. As far as he's concerned, Genesis is dead. That bridge was burned the moment he chose to call Sephiroth a monster in his moment of need, then demand his help in the same breath. When he'd told Genesis to rot, he meant it.
But Angeal... he'd assumed he finally found whatever peace he was looking for within the Lifestream.
And if what he's saying is true...
Well. There's a surefire way to find out, and he'd just as soon do it now before he humors any idea that Angeal's been looking for him all this time. He lets Masamune - which has become but an extension of his will - disappear into the ether. It's something of a peace offering-- an assurance that Angeal won't have its blade turned on him while Sephiroth stalks towards him with purpose.
Jenova can never quite create a perfect mimicry of someone. It's always surface level, with subtler details like hidden scars, marks, and blemishes being missed. Even with his memories muddied, he knows Angeal's body intimately. Not even a breath of hesitation stays Sephiroth's hand, deftly snaring Angeal's collar the moment he's within reach and pulling it to the side-- enough to expose a fair bit of his shoulder. He's expecting to see nothing, but--
His breath catches.
Right there on Angeal's shoulder, just above his collar bone, is a mark. Being two enhanced SOLDIERs, they could occasionally get a little carried away amidst their throes of passion, but only once did Sephiroth ever forget his own strength. His teeth found Angeal's shoulder in the heat of the moment, sinking in and breaking the skin. While it was a harmless injury in the grand scheme of things, Sephiroth had felt terribly guilty about it for ages. It took many reassurances from Angeal for him to stop beating himself up over it, but... right now, he's thankful for its existence. It's proof. Not even just that this is Angeal rather than Jenova, but... that it's his Angeal.
Standing there, he can't even begin to quantify what he's feeling. There's a lifetime of complicated emotions that he's been swallowing down for-- a long time. For a while, he only has the wherewithal to stare at the mark, running a gloved thumb over the faintly marred skin. Eventually, his face starts to contort. Anger. Relief. Frustration. Joy. Something cracks within those impassive green eyes, giving way to a sheen of not-quite tears. His fingers tighten around Angeal's collar until the leather of his gloves creak, jerking the other man closer to him.]
Why?
["Why" a lot of things. Why did the Lifestream reject him? Which couldn't he find him sooner? Why did he leave at all? --Why wasn't their love reason enough to stay?]
[ Angeal's time since that day when he forced Zack's hand has not been nearly as exciting or trailblazing as Sephiroth's own. He took a long time before his self-hate and despair at the impossibility to escape from what he is and what he has done faded even a little into resignation, a time of quiet madness that he does not much care to revisit, but does not shy away from, either. When it had ended...
There was still the need to accept all that he is, and to learn about it. A slow process, and, as some things either did not come naturally to him, or he was fighting against them, it took him a long, laborious time before he learned how to do some of the things that Sephiroth can.
And when he found his way to the place in-between, he got lost, observing all those memories.
That is why he knows exactly why Sephiroth's reaction was what it was, and why it brought him relief. If Sephiroth is railing against a Jenova attempt to reel him in again, that is a good thing.
That is also why a flick of Sephiroth's eyes towards his shoulder lets him know what to expect. Especially with Masamune put away, he doesn't flinch as Sephiroth reaches for him, and doesn't try to fight off the attempt to look.
It is only when Sephiroth stills, finding his proof and getting flooded with emotions as a result, that he reaches, placing his hands on the sides of Sephiroth's pinched waist. Not pushing or pulling. Just there.
That time...
Sephiroth felt guilt for it. But, to Angeal, it meant something else. It meant that, when Angeal pushed him beyond self-control and restraint, Sephiroth trusted him, subconsciously, that he could take what Sephiroth could give. He couldn't put it into words then, not the right ones to assuage Sephiroth's reaction, but, to him, this scar was more precious than any other mark upon his body.
It was one of the reasons why he started looking, despite knowing that he hurt Sephiroth more than anyone other than Jenova and possibly Hojo did. One of the reasons he dared hope that, when the storm of fury is over, perhaps Sephiroth will forgive him, a little.
When Sephirothh pulls him in, the hands at the sides of Sephiroth's waist move a little, to the small of his back, but he still lets Sephiroth decide if that pull is for an embrace, or to shake him more easily. He'd accept either, and much worse, besides.
The anguished question, on the other hand...
He sighs softly, and doesn't avoid Sephiroth's broken glare. Considers for a moment, then tries to put some things into words, into an answer, even if he knows it will be only words, right now. ]
Because we were kids caught in the attempt by scientists to play god, and each of us broke in a different way because of it. You hated the world. I hated myself. And it was all-consuming. And also, because I was a fool.
[Sephiroth has always been a man of impeccable self-control, and it's only a credit to that very fact that he doesn't simply crumble the minute Angeal's hands find his waist. How long has he yearned for Angeal's hands upon him once more? And it's not just any touch-- it's familiar and kind. It's something Angeal has always done with him: placing his hands on his waist or back to anchor him, but letting Sephiroth himself decide if he wants more or less than that.
A silent yet loving language just for the two of them.
Right now, Sephiroth isn't sure what he wants. Everything within him is at war. He longs to be held tenderly, shielded from this nightmare they've all been living. He longs to instigate a fight, to throw him down and pour out every angry word he's been holding in. He longs to push him, to slam his back against the ground and kiss him utterly breathless.
Instead, he can only stand there with a faintly trembling hand buried in Angeal's collar, glaring him down with the force of a thousand blades. He knows - just from his interactions with Angeal's past self alone - that his words are true. He understands now what Angeal was dealing with in a way he couldn't have known at the time, but it doesn't ease any of the pain. It's not fair to resent Angeal, especially after everything Sephiroth himself has done in his fury and hatred but...
He does.
Emotions are illogical little things that way. He has so much anger that he scarcely knows what to do with it, but Angeal certainly doesn't deserve the brunt of it. It's not his fault any of this happened, and yet--]
You are still a fool. [The words spill from his mouth, thoughtless and cruel. Whatever semblance of a wall Angeal had been using to lean against, Sephiroth pushes him firmly into it with his whole body. Perhaps it's there because they willed it so-- perhaps because Sephiroth is yearning to press ever closer to Angeal, but he's still too tangled up in his fury to know any other way but this.] What makes you think I have anything left to give after all this time?
[The words bite, but Angeal's known him intimately enough... Maybe he'll see that there's still pieces of the Sephiroth he once knew - loving, patient, and kind - buried underneath all of that wicked and scorching fire.]
[ Even as his body responds to Sephiroth's proximity - by holding on to him tighter, closer, even if he doesn't make that tender while he can see the tension and fury from a mile off, and it needs to come to a head before proper sweetness can begin growing once more - his eyes widen at the words. Not in hurt, or offense. Not even pity. But, for the first time in a very, very long time, Angeal feels proper anger that is not directed at himself, his eyes flashing for a moment. Goddess-damned Jenova, and all who inflicted her on this kind soul.
The anger is not at all directed at Sephiroth, on the other hand, so his voice is still calm, or at least contained. ]
A fool I am, for fucking up so badly. But what I am not is what made us what we are. Neither Shinra, nor what they dabbled with without understanding - and so I am not here to take from you. [ Because they have all taken and taken and taken from Sephiroth, until, yes, Angeal can well believe Sephiroth has little enough to give, and even less to give him. At least right now, little beyond pain, that is, one way or another.
But Angeal is used to his own pain, and he can take Sephiroth's, support him. ]
[Angeal pulls him closer, tightens his grip around his waist and back, and it takes everything Sephiroth has not to lurch into him. He'd almost forgotten what those strong hands felt like, pressing firmly against him and holding him flush against the other man. Even with the barrier of leather between their skin, the mere pressure of his fingers is enough to set him on fire.
He thought he'd accepted that he'd never feel Angeal's touch again, but... he's not so sure anymore. He doesn't know if it's the fury or the desire that's consuming him. Maybe it's both.
Starting with giving all of myself to you, Angeal says, promising not to keep taking from him like the rest of the world had, and just like that, the little bit left of Sephiroth that's holding him composed splays apart at the seams. He doesn't have the words for any of this-- so perhaps action will suffice in its stead. It's not gentle when his free hand flies up, fingers biting into Angeal's jaw, and pushes his head back. It's even less so when Sephiroth crashes his mouth against Angeal's, kissing him furiously like he'll otherwise starve.]
[ Angeal's own lips twitch slightly at the sound of that soft laughter, and he nods.
They are SOLDIER 1st class. They have all gotten well-used to surveillance at all time. Even without the layers to the whole experience, Angeal wouldn't have felt threatened by those words. But it is... extremely precious to him, in ways that Sephiroth probably knows, to know that, should he falter, he won't fall down alone.
Even if, with all the burdens that this Sephiroth is carrying, Angeal will try not to add himself... again. It is a promise that means much and more to him.
He watches Sephiroth until the opening closes, then he bows his head and gives a salute with the Buster Sword in his direction.
Only then does he turn to follow in the puppy's steps.
Once he is outside, he holds up his hand... not holding the sword. ]
It's fine, Zack.
[ ... at which he promptly gets golmmed by the youth, and has to blink slightly as he's alternately embraced and shaken. ]
Don't ever do something like this again, you hear me? Ever!
[ And on he rambles for a bit, before Angeal finally pushes him away, a scowl in the direction of the other person present. ]
Wait outside.
Angeal!
Go.
[ Zack gives a growl, but then turns and storms off, and Angeal turns slowly towards Hollander. ]
Oh, no, you don't. If I'm gone, there won't be anyone left to help Genesis!
You can't help Genesis, anyway. What you did to him, to us, is beyond your comprehension. The evil you have unleashed.
Angeal! You can't kill me! I'm family!"
My mother understood, in the end. There are things you don't do to family. Goodbye. Doctor Hollander.
[ There is no salute this time. The Buster Sword descends swiftly and leaves no chance of survival.
Then Angeal's shoulders hunch, his stomach churning. There are things that do not get easy even after years of warfare. But his determination doesn't waver... though, for a moment, he just stands there, the enormous emotional whiplash finally catching up to him.
He can't be weak anymore. Way too much depends on him not wavering.
Eventually, he squares his shoulders and walks out. Arm around Zack's waist, he takes off. Once Zack's complaints run out, he lets some distance pass, before he chimes up again, carefully. ]
Angeal?
Yes?
What the hell happened?
[ Ah. The difficult question... but the only one that really matters. Angeal sighs. ]
It seems that Shinra... and especially the science department, went and meddled with something they really shouldn't have. Far, far more powerful than they could have imagined. Genesis, I... and Sephiroth are the products of that meddling - and both vulnerable to its influence and desired by it. If I... had followed through on what I started, Sephiroth would have succumbed, and the suffering would be beyond what any of us could have reconned. The Sephiroth who we saw back there had. He is powerful, enough that he can cross the streams of time. And he did, because I might be able to make a difference.
So, what? You're not set on dying anymore?
More or less. I thought the star'd be better off without me-- [ he can feel the full body flinch that Zack gives, and remembers what Sephiroth showed him of the youth's grief, ] --but it seems removing myself would actually be worse. I still must find a way to not squander it, of course.
You're an idiot, you know that?
... and a coward besides, apparently.
[ That gets him a kick in the shin, and he can't help a small grin. The banter flows more easily, after that. Zack doesn't ask him where they are going, but that might be just the relief.
They are almost approaching Midgar when it's Angeal's turn to break the silence. ]
Zack. In one way... Genesis was not wrong. It turns out that Shinra is the enemy. I need... more information about that. But it may be that I will deflect for real, and Sephiroth also. If I can, I'll try to keep you up to date, but if it happens, it will be because of facts. If it comes to that, I won't fight with you.
[ He can't make Zack turn traitor, too. But he won't go against him if they end up on different sides. ]
You're such - what will you even do, Angeal?
That depends on what we find. That's why I'll try to keep you up to date.
Right. Well, unless that 'Shinra is the enemy' turns out to be complete hogwash, I'd probably be helping.
Thanks, Zack.
[ It's a relief, to hear that. It'll still make a difference, how accurate future Sephiroth's claim was, but...
He drops off Zack near the entrance of the headquarters. And finds his own way to Sephiroth's corner of it.
[Something about the latest lead on Genesis and Hollander had left a sinking feeling in Sephiroth's gut. Maybe it was the fact that Angeal asked for Zack specifically on that mission and... not him. Before they left, he'd pulled Zack aside and asked him to stay in touch-- keep him updated. He had been for a while, but... it's been radio silent for quite some time. Sephiroth makes a concerted effort not to let his thoughts needlessly run away from him, but he can't help the worry roiling endlessly within him.
He's been in his office, busying himself with paperwork and sparing his phone periodic glances when the knock at his door comes.
Angeal's voice soon follows, and Sephiroth's relief is profound, bleeding the tension out of his shoulders within seconds. So profound, in fact, that he bypasses calling him in entirely to go meet him at the door instead. The moment he opens it, he's giving Angeal a once over, looking for injuries and any sign of something amiss. Only once he's satisfied with his brief inspection do his eyes flick back up to meet Angeal's.]
Come in. [He steps aside, giving the other man space to slip into the office.] ...Are you and Zack alright? We lost contact. I was beginning to worry.
[ Goddess, but Sephiroth is beautiful. Especially when the memory of the colder, more broken version of him in his mind, seeing his one with his soft radiance unmarred hits him in the chest. The once-over makes him hunch his shoulders a little once more, trying to lower his wing, before remembering that he can't really hide it. (Before remembering that, maybe, this Sephiroth also... might care for him.)
Then the warm voice and the concern make his mouth helplessly curl up. After what did happen, the normality of this ... feels good.
He lets the door close behind him first, and leaves the sword leaned against the wall next to it. ]
I was... uninformed, in some ways, and got interrupted before doing something rather final. But it is all right, now.
[ Deep breath. ]
We need to talk. If this is not a good time, I can find you later.
[Something about the way Angeal looks at him makes Sephiroth's heart clamor about noisily in his chest, and he can't quite pinpoint what it is. He's not so foolish as to think Angeal could be looking at him adoringly, and yet--
He returns the other man's smile with one of his own before returning to his desk, opting to sit on the edge of it rather than in the chair. But... Angeal's implication of doing something rather final gives Sephiroth significant pause, the smile fading slowly. His assurance that everything is fine does nothing to keep Sephiroth's brows from knitting together in worry.]
Even if I didn't have time, I wouldn't know a moment of rest if I left myself to wonder what that means. [A beat.] Angeal, what happened?
Angeal finds a spot and leans against the wall, to stop himself from acting on his dreams imagination too soon, resting his weight heavily against it. ]
First of all, because I have a vague idea that you won't like what you hear, at least... most of it, though I don't really know how much you won't, let me start with, I'm not leaving you again. Even if I have to physically quit the building, I won't be far out of reach. That's a promise.
Beyond that...
[ He falls quiet for a moment. ]
I'm trying to figure out where to start. About me, about you, or with words that I should've said years ago.
[As Angeal continues on, Sephiroth's confusion only grows. It seems as if something profound happened during that mission, but he's struggling to grasp where all of this is coming from. He doesn't have any better idea of where Angeal ought to start than the man himself does, but he does his best to consider it.
The fact that Angeal is already remarking that he has unfavorable news, and that it may or may not be unfavorable enough to incite a promise that he won't leave-- well. Sephiroth isn't exactly reassured.]
I'm afraid I don't understand, but... [He pauses, and at the heart of all of this, he's really just worried about Angeal. Everything else is secondary.] Let's start with you, I suppose.
[ Assuming that Angeal himself understands it all, or knows what is best... or, at least, what isn't worst, may be slightly overestimating him. He has had a little time to think things through on the way here, and all he's come up with is that, well.
Neither Genesis nor himself reacted well to finding out what they are. Sephiroth probably won't, either. And how bad that will be... Angeal doesn't know. The future Sephiroth seems to have faith that Angeal will make a difference to it, to him, but without the bond that Sephiroth had with his Angeal...
Still. Hiding the truth, and letting him learn from vehemence and lashing out... that will be worse. ]
As you may have... guessed, [ he lets his wing beat lightly against the wall, ] Genesis and I are not ... quite human. My mother had ... cells implanted in her from something that the scientists did not, and I am certain still do not, understand. From her genetic material, Genesis was created. I was born the more conventional way, but the changes are still... in me.
When my mother realized what her long-past deeds have brought, she took her own life. [ His gaze strays to the Buster Sword, leaned against the wall as he had left it that day, then drops to the floor. ] But what I am means that I am somewhat more... durable. Monstrous, hopeless, but durable.
I couldn't remove the blight that I am from the star on my own. So I was going to force Zack to do it... [ He doesn't dare meet Sephiroth's eyes. But he can't not at least try to gauge his reactions. ] I was interrupted, and made to reconsider.
[Sephiroth listens carefully, trying to discern where this is going. Some of this, he suspected, but... there were enough missing pieces that he never quite grasped the depths of it. The implication that Angeal and Genesis were created in a sense is enough to put Sephiroth into shock.
Playing god with human lives--
But if only that's where Angeal's explanation ended. He goes on, talking about his poor mother and then...
'I couldn't remove the blight that I am--'
No... Sephiroth's heart stops for a moment, because-- Angeal surely couldn't have wanted to end his life...
'So I was going to force Zack to do it.'
To say that this revelation upsets Sephiroth is... putting it lightly. It hits him like a freight train. No longer relaxed, he pushes off from the desk and rises back to his full height.] What? [He'd known something was wrong, and he elected not to intervene. It's clear that he should have, but he's grateful to this other person - he assumes Zack - for interrupting Angeal's suicidal inclinations. And Zack-- being put in that position must have been terribly painful for him. Sephiroth is struggling to even put to words how he feels, himself-- anger, sorrow, relief. It's all muddied together, gripping his chest like a vice.]
Angeal... [He hesitates, searching for the right words.] Nothing about you is a blight on this planet, nor is any part of you monstrous.
[Maybe that's easy to say when he's not the one going through it, but... he drifts towards Angeal regardless. He's always been a little awkward with affection; he never got much experience with it. But he reaches both hands out, grasping Angeal's arms at the elbows.]
I-- didn't realize you were feeling this way... ['Why didn't you talk to me?' is what Sephiroth starts to ask, but... no. He knows Angeal well enough by now to know why. More than likely, he thought himself a burden. He reconsiders his words and starts again.] Losing Genesis was painful enough. I can't bear to lose you, too.
It takes a moment for Angeal to realize that it's his legs that gave out, even with Sepiroth's hold on his arms, and he's dropped on his knees before him, looking up at the other man with his eyes stinging, and helplessly grateful and adoring.
So much for being strong for him.
He struggles to make his lungs work, for a moment, then. ]
I- I'm sorry.
[ Less for dropping like this, though he is, and more for--
For doubting Sephiroth. ]
I stayed away so I wouldn't taint you. But I - I was, also, paralyzingly terrified that you would think otherwise.
[ The older Sephiroth was fury and ragged ages and pain, carrying the burden of all that had happened. That he would not find Angeal monstrous seemed more natural. That his Sephiroth, the hero, the example, the bright hope for so many, would not - that he would reassure Angeal. It is too much, all at once. ]
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You walked across time and space, and who knows what, to shake me out of my despair. You can't believe that you returning to your despair wouldn't matter to me. Even if it's rage and hatred... even if I won't like it. I can listen.
[ It can be a nightmare that he won't be able to do anything about. But Sephiroth would be trapped in that nightmare. If he has understood things correctly... Sephiroth has not had anyone to talk about it. For however long it has been, he has been trapped with what Jenova has been asking of him and his own pain, alone. If he can alleviate that for a moment...
It will not change anything. But it will be more than nothing.
He breathes out. ]
Lucrecia Crescent. I will remember her name.
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He wonders... if they had a chance to speak again, would his Angeal still speak to him this way? If he's been watching over things from the Lifestream, he'll have seen every wretched, hateful thing Sephiroth has done. Surely he would be disgusted, honorable as he is. So many lives have been lost by Sephiroth's hand alone, and many more by the domino effect of his actions. Cloud - by far - had suffered the most, but he was also the one to free him from Jenova's shackles, to help him reclaim some of his memories. It's because of Cloud that he's able to be here at all, speaking to Angeal like this-- like a man rather than a cryptic monster with a sinister agenda. They'd shared some kind of kinship by the end-- nothing that could ever fill the respective voids in their hearts. They'd done too much damage to each other, but... the least he could do was grant Cloud peace after that, to allow him to be with his loved ones once more.
It meant leaving Sephiroth to his loneliness again, but... it's what he deserves, really. Even as it rankles him with rage and hatred.
He doesn't deserve... this. Angeal's empathy, his kind eyes, an ear and shoulder free of judgment. For a moment, he's even tempted to turn him away-- to cut the floor underneath him and return him to his timeline without a word. His fingers even tighten around Masamune, the leather of his gloves creaking with tension.
...But something stays his hand. For a moment, he could almost swear he feels fingertips brushing against his knuckles, the back of his hand. A squeeze. 'Stop.' But of course... when Sephiroth spares a glance, there is nothing. If he hadn't already been riddled with madness once, he'd say he's losing his mind. An exasperated breath pushes from his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line... but his grip on Masamune loosens.]
Stubborn fool. [It somehow sounds as fond as it does annoyed.] As you wish.
...There is nothing for me to return to. Merely emptiness. I am forbidden to join with the Lifestream, and so I wait only for the world to begin anew. Changing fate for others has done little to change mine.
A fitting penance, I suppose.
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The answer is somehow... worse than he thought, though he did not know what to expect. His mouth firms into a thin line, but he doesn't flinch, or turn away.
Although, after a moment, he frowns. ]
Even if it may be... it's not a sound long-term solution. If solitude and despair and rage are what caused you to succumb and wreak destruction, leaving you alone and hopelessness to your unsated rage... will that not lead to the same disaster?
[ He is not trying to give hope. But he is certainly puzzled. It is possible that nothing else can be done, but leaving Sephiroth like that? With his powers to traverse realities at the very least still intact? ]
Perhaps there will be something else, eventually.
[ Something more, perhaps. Who is he to know? Sciense sometimes moves too fast for him, though he grasps principles; the way of the Star?
But he knows enough tactics and strategy to know that's just a ticking bomb. And that's even less what he wants, for his friend. (For the man he loves. The thought floats in his mind, and, for once, he doesn't push it back down. If he can do this... if he can spare his Sephiroth this fate. Perhaps he will be deserving of trying to claim it.) ]
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Every attempt I have made to not only stray from this course, but to allow other versions of myself to do the same, has seen Fate move to guide me back.
Perhaps I will never know peace. ...Perhaps I was only ever meant to know destruction.
[And maybe - at the very core of all of this - that's why Sephiroth keeps trying to save Angeal even when it will change nothing for his own reality. If he could see a world where his hands are capable of something other than bloodshed, a world where the lives entangled with his aren't damned only to suffering, then... maybe that will be enough.
--But this is circling around to a place Sephiroth is unwilling to linger in, even with Angeal.]
Enough. [In an instant, Sephiroth's cold veneer washes back over him; he brushes past Angeal without sparing another glance.] If there is nothing else here you wish to see, let us return.
[Once more, and with the same amount of effortlessness as before, he cuts a swath through the air, reopening the portal back to Modeoheim. He hesitates only long enough for Angeal to make the final decision.]
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For a moment, he bows his head, raising the buster sword, blade up, to press his forehead against the flat of it.
Then he lowers it again, stepping closer to the opening.
Hesitates. ]
Oh, fuck it all.
[ A rare, very rare expletive, from him.
As he steps by Sephiroth, he leans to press the lightest kiss to his cheek, before stepping back to the solid world once again. ]
That. Is my promise. That I won't give up again. For both of you.
[ Only then does he turn to look at Sephiroth. Not even this cold can diminish that ethereal beauty of his, and Angeal squares his shoulders, hands behind his back into a rest of respect, but eyes soft, and warm. ]
Unattainable dreams are still dreams.
[ And you are allowed to dream, my friend. ]
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Affection is such a foreign thing to him anymore.
But he doesn't pull away from it. He merely watches Angeal instead-- watches until the other man turns and makes his promise.
...What a stubborn, stubborn man. But it's nice to see after all of that despair. Sephiroth hums a soft laugh.]
Should you falter, I'll be watching.
[To anyone else, that might sound like a threat. But this, too, is a promise. Sephiroth carved a pathway to this world, and in doing so, he can now easily find his way back. For a time at least, he doesn't intend to stray far. If anything goes wrong, he'll do what he can. If Angeal calls for him, he will answer-- like some twisted form of guardian angel.
After all... he has little to go back to. He may as well make sure this world stays its new course. And... in some small way, maybe it'll soothe some of the pain to see Angeal seizing another shot at life. To see him thrive after clawing his way up from the depths of despair.]
...Go. Live.
[For now, Sephiroth has lingered enough, and Angeal... has a lot to do. He closes the portal between them, and it feels bittersweet. It won't be the last time they see each other, but... it does make his foolish heart yearn for his Angeal once more.
An unattainable dream is still a dream, indeed...]
the end of the line
Somewhen...
As Sephiroth's wandering steps turn a corner...
There is a white feather on his path. ]
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Maybe that was naive. Maybe no amount of ice or distance would have ever prepared him for seeing the man who had once been his entire world again. Angeal - with his gentle hands and kind eyes - has always effortlessly pierced through every shield Sephiroth has ever put up around his heart.
So deeply caught up in this train of thought, Sephiroth almost doesn't register the feather. But once he does, it becomes all he can see-- the white plume is radiant against the surrounding gloom. He slows to a stop just in front of it, hesitating.
It's not the first time he's... seen things, especially in isolation. Whether it's his mind desperately scrambling to cling to some semblance of comfort, or Jenova playing twisted mindgames as she is wont to do, Sephiroth doesn't claim to know. Part of him insists on ignoring it, to keep walking, but... in spite of himself, he crouches down... reaches slowly.
And to his surprise, the feather doesn't vanish under his touch.
Has his mind finally crumbled? Is he so broken that he's conjuring up the sensation of a delicate feather in his palm now?
--How pitiful.]
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And then another.
And then. ]
Finally. I thought the place felt a tiny bit like you. Too empty to have much to go on on, but it was more than nothing.
[ In a place where there may not even be walls to lean against, Angeal somehow is still doing so.
After a moment, he raises his head to look sideways at Sephiroth. Lifts an eyebrow, and despite the trace of levity to his words, his eyes are dark and deep, worried and apologetic. ]
Welcome home?
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Begone. I have not the patience for your games today.
[His voice is soft, but it carries the force of a blade aimed to kill. Above all else, it sounds... wounded.
Because of course Sephiroth would believe this is Jenova - toying with an freshly opened wound - before he could ever allow himself to believe that Angeal is really here. He won't allow himself to feel that crushing disappointment again-- he cannot... lest he fall under Jenova's oppressive sway once more.]
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All right, that's fair enough. But before you attack, consider...
You're not the only one who got rejected by the Lifestream.
[ Genesis did also.
Why wouldn't Angeal? ]
But you've been a little difficult to track down.
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But Angeal... he'd assumed he finally found whatever peace he was looking for within the Lifestream.
And if what he's saying is true...
Well. There's a surefire way to find out, and he'd just as soon do it now before he humors any idea that Angeal's been looking for him all this time. He lets Masamune - which has become but an extension of his will - disappear into the ether. It's something of a peace offering-- an assurance that Angeal won't have its blade turned on him while Sephiroth stalks towards him with purpose.
Jenova can never quite create a perfect mimicry of someone. It's always surface level, with subtler details like hidden scars, marks, and blemishes being missed. Even with his memories muddied, he knows Angeal's body intimately. Not even a breath of hesitation stays Sephiroth's hand, deftly snaring Angeal's collar the moment he's within reach and pulling it to the side-- enough to expose a fair bit of his shoulder. He's expecting to see nothing, but--
His breath catches.
Right there on Angeal's shoulder, just above his collar bone, is a mark. Being two enhanced SOLDIERs, they could occasionally get a little carried away amidst their throes of passion, but only once did Sephiroth ever forget his own strength. His teeth found Angeal's shoulder in the heat of the moment, sinking in and breaking the skin. While it was a harmless injury in the grand scheme of things, Sephiroth had felt terribly guilty about it for ages. It took many reassurances from Angeal for him to stop beating himself up over it, but... right now, he's thankful for its existence. It's proof. Not even just that this is Angeal rather than Jenova, but... that it's his Angeal.
Standing there, he can't even begin to quantify what he's feeling. There's a lifetime of complicated emotions that he's been swallowing down for-- a long time. For a while, he only has the wherewithal to stare at the mark, running a gloved thumb over the faintly marred skin. Eventually, his face starts to contort. Anger. Relief. Frustration. Joy. Something cracks within those impassive green eyes, giving way to a sheen of not-quite tears. His fingers tighten around Angeal's collar until the leather of his gloves creak, jerking the other man closer to him.]
Why?
["Why" a lot of things. Why did the Lifestream reject him? Which couldn't he find him sooner? Why did he leave at all? --Why wasn't their love reason enough to stay?]
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There was still the need to accept all that he is, and to learn about it. A slow process, and, as some things either did not come naturally to him, or he was fighting against them, it took him a long, laborious time before he learned how to do some of the things that Sephiroth can.
And when he found his way to the place in-between, he got lost, observing all those memories.
That is why he knows exactly why Sephiroth's reaction was what it was, and why it brought him relief. If Sephiroth is railing against a Jenova attempt to reel him in again, that is a good thing.
That is also why a flick of Sephiroth's eyes towards his shoulder lets him know what to expect. Especially with Masamune put away, he doesn't flinch as Sephiroth reaches for him, and doesn't try to fight off the attempt to look.
It is only when Sephiroth stills, finding his proof and getting flooded with emotions as a result, that he reaches, placing his hands on the sides of Sephiroth's pinched waist. Not pushing or pulling. Just there.
That time...
Sephiroth felt guilt for it. But, to Angeal, it meant something else. It meant that, when Angeal pushed him beyond self-control and restraint, Sephiroth trusted him, subconsciously, that he could take what Sephiroth could give. He couldn't put it into words then, not the right ones to assuage Sephiroth's reaction, but, to him, this scar was more precious than any other mark upon his body.
It was one of the reasons why he started looking, despite knowing that he hurt Sephiroth more than anyone other than Jenova and possibly Hojo did. One of the reasons he dared hope that, when the storm of fury is over, perhaps Sephiroth will forgive him, a little.
When Sephirothh pulls him in, the hands at the sides of Sephiroth's waist move a little, to the small of his back, but he still lets Sephiroth decide if that pull is for an embrace, or to shake him more easily. He'd accept either, and much worse, besides.
The anguished question, on the other hand...
He sighs softly, and doesn't avoid Sephiroth's broken glare. Considers for a moment, then tries to put some things into words, into an answer, even if he knows it will be only words, right now. ]
Because we were kids caught in the attempt by scientists to play god, and each of us broke in a different way because of it. You hated the world. I hated myself. And it was all-consuming. And also, because I was a fool.
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A silent yet loving language just for the two of them.
Right now, Sephiroth isn't sure what he wants. Everything within him is at war. He longs to be held tenderly, shielded from this nightmare they've all been living. He longs to instigate a fight, to throw him down and pour out every angry word he's been holding in. He longs to push him, to slam his back against the ground and kiss him utterly breathless.
Instead, he can only stand there with a faintly trembling hand buried in Angeal's collar, glaring him down with the force of a thousand blades. He knows - just from his interactions with Angeal's past self alone - that his words are true. He understands now what Angeal was dealing with in a way he couldn't have known at the time, but it doesn't ease any of the pain. It's not fair to resent Angeal, especially after everything Sephiroth himself has done in his fury and hatred but...
He does.
Emotions are illogical little things that way. He has so much anger that he scarcely knows what to do with it, but Angeal certainly doesn't deserve the brunt of it. It's not his fault any of this happened, and yet--]
You are still a fool. [The words spill from his mouth, thoughtless and cruel. Whatever semblance of a wall Angeal had been using to lean against, Sephiroth pushes him firmly into it with his whole body. Perhaps it's there because they willed it so-- perhaps because Sephiroth is yearning to press ever closer to Angeal, but he's still too tangled up in his fury to know any other way but this.] What makes you think I have anything left to give after all this time?
[The words bite, but Angeal's known him intimately enough... Maybe he'll see that there's still pieces of the Sephiroth he once knew - loving, patient, and kind - buried underneath all of that wicked and scorching fire.]
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The anger is not at all directed at Sephiroth, on the other hand, so his voice is still calm, or at least contained. ]
A fool I am, for fucking up so badly. But what I am not is what made us what we are. Neither Shinra, nor what they dabbled with without understanding - and so I am not here to take from you. [ Because they have all taken and taken and taken from Sephiroth, until, yes, Angeal can well believe Sephiroth has little enough to give, and even less to give him. At least right now, little beyond pain, that is, one way or another.
But Angeal is used to his own pain, and he can take Sephiroth's, support him. ]
I am here to give to you, instead.
Starting with giving all of myself to you.
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He thought he'd accepted that he'd never feel Angeal's touch again, but... he's not so sure anymore. He doesn't know if it's the fury or the desire that's consuming him. Maybe it's both.
Starting with giving all of myself to you, Angeal says, promising not to keep taking from him like the rest of the world had, and just like that, the little bit left of Sephiroth that's holding him composed splays apart at the seams. He doesn't have the words for any of this-- so perhaps action will suffice in its stead. It's not gentle when his free hand flies up, fingers biting into Angeal's jaw, and pushes his head back. It's even less so when Sephiroth crashes his mouth against Angeal's, kissing him furiously like he'll otherwise starve.]
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the innocents
They are SOLDIER 1st class. They have all gotten well-used to surveillance at all time. Even without the layers to the whole experience, Angeal wouldn't have felt threatened by those words. But it is... extremely precious to him, in ways that Sephiroth probably knows, to know that, should he falter, he won't fall down alone.
Even if, with all the burdens that this Sephiroth is carrying, Angeal will try not to add himself... again. It is a promise that means much and more to him.
He watches Sephiroth until the opening closes, then he bows his head and gives a salute with the Buster Sword in his direction.
Only then does he turn to follow in the puppy's steps.
Once he is outside, he holds up his hand... not holding the sword. ]
It's fine, Zack.
[ ... at which he promptly gets golmmed by the youth, and has to blink slightly as he's alternately embraced and shaken. ]
Don't ever do something like this again, you hear me? Ever!
[ And on he rambles for a bit, before Angeal finally pushes him away, a scowl in the direction of the other person present. ]
Wait outside.
Angeal!
Go.
[ Zack gives a growl, but then turns and storms off, and Angeal turns slowly towards Hollander. ]
Oh, no, you don't. If I'm gone, there won't be anyone left to help Genesis!
You can't help Genesis, anyway. What you did to him, to us, is beyond your comprehension. The evil you have unleashed.
Angeal! You can't kill me! I'm family!"
My mother understood, in the end. There are things you don't do to family. Goodbye. Doctor Hollander.
[ There is no salute this time. The Buster Sword descends swiftly and leaves no chance of survival.
Then Angeal's shoulders hunch, his stomach churning. There are things that do not get easy even after years of warfare. But his determination doesn't waver... though, for a moment, he just stands there, the enormous emotional whiplash finally catching up to him.
He can't be weak anymore. Way too much depends on him not wavering.
Eventually, he squares his shoulders and walks out. Arm around Zack's waist, he takes off. Once Zack's complaints run out, he lets some distance pass, before he chimes up again, carefully. ]
Angeal?
Yes?
What the hell happened?
[ Ah. The difficult question... but the only one that really matters. Angeal sighs. ]
It seems that Shinra... and especially the science department, went and meddled with something they really shouldn't have. Far, far more powerful than they could have imagined. Genesis, I... and Sephiroth are the products of that meddling - and both vulnerable to its influence and desired by it. If I... had followed through on what I started, Sephiroth would have succumbed, and the suffering would be beyond what any of us could have reconned. The Sephiroth who we saw back there had. He is powerful, enough that he can cross the streams of time. And he did, because I might be able to make a difference.
So, what? You're not set on dying anymore?
More or less. I thought the star'd be better off without me-- [ he can feel the full body flinch that Zack gives, and remembers what Sephiroth showed him of the youth's grief, ] --but it seems removing myself would actually be worse. I still must find a way to not squander it, of course.
You're an idiot, you know that?
... and a coward besides, apparently.
[ That gets him a kick in the shin, and he can't help a small grin. The banter flows more easily, after that. Zack doesn't ask him where they are going, but that might be just the relief.
They are almost approaching Midgar when it's Angeal's turn to break the silence. ]
Zack. In one way... Genesis was not wrong. It turns out that Shinra is the enemy. I need... more information about that. But it may be that I will deflect for real, and Sephiroth also. If I can, I'll try to keep you up to date, but if it happens, it will be because of facts. If it comes to that, I won't fight with you.
[ He can't make Zack turn traitor, too. But he won't go against him if they end up on different sides. ]
You're such - what will you even do, Angeal?
That depends on what we find. That's why I'll try to keep you up to date.
Right. Well, unless that 'Shinra is the enemy' turns out to be complete hogwash, I'd probably be helping.
Thanks, Zack.
[ It's a relief, to hear that. It'll still make a difference, how accurate future Sephiroth's claim was, but...
He drops off Zack near the entrance of the headquarters. And finds his own way to Sephiroth's corner of it.
A deep breath, and he knocks on the door. ]
Taking visitors?
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He's been in his office, busying himself with paperwork and sparing his phone periodic glances when the knock at his door comes.
Angeal's voice soon follows, and Sephiroth's relief is profound, bleeding the tension out of his shoulders within seconds. So profound, in fact, that he bypasses calling him in entirely to go meet him at the door instead. The moment he opens it, he's giving Angeal a once over, looking for injuries and any sign of something amiss. Only once he's satisfied with his brief inspection do his eyes flick back up to meet Angeal's.]
Come in. [He steps aside, giving the other man space to slip into the office.] ...Are you and Zack alright? We lost contact. I was beginning to worry.
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Then the warm voice and the concern make his mouth helplessly curl up. After what did happen, the normality of this ... feels good.
He lets the door close behind him first, and leaves the sword leaned against the wall next to it. ]
I was... uninformed, in some ways, and got interrupted before doing something rather final. But it is all right, now.
[ Deep breath. ]
We need to talk. If this is not a good time, I can find you later.
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He returns the other man's smile with one of his own before returning to his desk, opting to sit on the edge of it rather than in the chair. But... Angeal's implication of doing something rather final gives Sephiroth significant pause, the smile fading slowly. His assurance that everything is fine does nothing to keep Sephiroth's brows from knitting together in worry.]
Even if I didn't have time, I wouldn't know a moment of rest if I left myself to wonder what that means. [A beat.] Angeal, what happened?
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[ Oh.
He's... tired. How did that happen?
Angeal finds a spot and leans against the wall, to stop himself from acting on his
dreamsimagination too soon, resting his weight heavily against it. ]First of all, because I have a vague idea that you won't like what you hear, at least... most of it, though I don't really know how much you won't, let me start with, I'm not leaving you again. Even if I have to physically quit the building, I won't be far out of reach. That's a promise.
Beyond that...
[ He falls quiet for a moment. ]
I'm trying to figure out where to start. About me, about you, or with words that I should've said years ago.
Preferences?
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The fact that Angeal is already remarking that he has unfavorable news, and that it may or may not be unfavorable enough to incite a promise that he won't leave-- well. Sephiroth isn't exactly reassured.]
I'm afraid I don't understand, but... [He pauses, and at the heart of all of this, he's really just worried about Angeal. Everything else is secondary.] Let's start with you, I suppose.
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Neither Genesis nor himself reacted well to finding out what they are. Sephiroth probably won't, either. And how bad that will be... Angeal doesn't know. The future Sephiroth seems to have faith that Angeal will make a difference to it, to him, but without the bond that Sephiroth had with his Angeal...
Still. Hiding the truth, and letting him learn from vehemence and lashing out... that will be worse. ]
As you may have... guessed, [ he lets his wing beat lightly against the wall, ] Genesis and I are not ... quite human. My mother had ... cells implanted in her from something that the scientists did not, and I am certain still do not, understand. From her genetic material, Genesis was created. I was born the more conventional way, but the changes are still... in me.
When my mother realized what her long-past deeds have brought, she took her own life. [ His gaze strays to the Buster Sword, leaned against the wall as he had left it that day, then drops to the floor. ] But what I am means that I am somewhat more... durable. Monstrous, hopeless, but durable.
I couldn't remove the blight that I am from the star on my own. So I was going to force Zack to do it... [ He doesn't dare meet Sephiroth's eyes. But he can't not at least try to gauge his reactions. ] I was interrupted, and made to reconsider.
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Playing god with human lives--
But if only that's where Angeal's explanation ended. He goes on, talking about his poor mother and then...
'I couldn't remove the blight that I am--'
No... Sephiroth's heart stops for a moment, because-- Angeal surely couldn't have wanted to end his life...
'So I was going to force Zack to do it.'
To say that this revelation upsets Sephiroth is... putting it lightly. It hits him like a freight train. No longer relaxed, he pushes off from the desk and rises back to his full height.] What? [He'd known something was wrong, and he elected not to intervene. It's clear that he should have, but he's grateful to this other person - he assumes Zack - for interrupting Angeal's suicidal inclinations. And Zack-- being put in that position must have been terribly painful for him. Sephiroth is struggling to even put to words how he feels, himself-- anger, sorrow, relief. It's all muddied together, gripping his chest like a vice.]
Angeal... [He hesitates, searching for the right words.] Nothing about you is a blight on this planet, nor is any part of you monstrous.
[Maybe that's easy to say when he's not the one going through it, but... he drifts towards Angeal regardless. He's always been a little awkward with affection; he never got much experience with it. But he reaches both hands out, grasping Angeal's arms at the elbows.]
I-- didn't realize you were feeling this way... ['Why didn't you talk to me?' is what Sephiroth starts to ask, but... no. He knows Angeal well enough by now to know why. More than likely, he thought himself a burden. He reconsiders his words and starts again.] Losing Genesis was painful enough. I can't bear to lose you, too.
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It takes a moment for Angeal to realize that it's his legs that gave out, even with Sepiroth's hold on his arms, and he's dropped on his knees before him, looking up at the other man with his eyes stinging, and helplessly grateful and adoring.
So much for being strong for him.
He struggles to make his lungs work, for a moment, then. ]
I- I'm sorry.
[ Less for dropping like this, though he is, and more for--
For doubting Sephiroth. ]
I stayed away so I wouldn't taint you. But I - I was, also, paralyzingly terrified that you would think otherwise.
[ The older Sephiroth was fury and ragged ages and pain, carrying the burden of all that had happened. That he would not find Angeal monstrous seemed more natural. That his Sephiroth, the hero, the example, the bright hope for so many, would not - that he would reassure Angeal. It is too much, all at once. ]
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