[A/N: Happy First Fic of 2010! A lovely cheery one to set off the year!
… I lie.
(:
OHGOD LOOK it's not Sephiroth/Genesis! … ish! Okay, it is, but does it count if Gen isn't there? I think not!
Leave me my little fantasies ;______; of violence 8D
And enjoy~!
(oh yeah, I gave up on the 50Shuffle Challenge :3) ]
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Cold metal, unforgiving. It rang with the sound of footsteps and whispered the swirl of leather, noises like ghosts rolling up the passageway before and behind him. He could have been silent if he so wished; a lifetime in elite military had taught him many skills. Yet he let the news of his arrival radiate through the underground complex, not wishing to hide himself - the one he came in search of would have sensed him in any case.
And it was not like there was anyone here to raise an alarm. DEEPGROUND was dead; long since abandoned by the remnants of the forces that had once inhabited it. The only ones who remained here were them – waiting here to recuperate before they moved on. Did they have a purpose any more? Sephiroth had no idea, but cared less. He was little interested in what they wanted.
His step did not even falter as he considered how best to persuade Genesis to join him. He had not seen the redhead since that night in Nibelheim too long ago… and they had parted on less than warm terms. He remembered the blood and the flames and the dirt under smudged hands, and for a second it was as if it was all real again; a feeling that sent fire through him, warming the freezing steel corridor. He would feel that satisfaction again, no matter what Genesis' answer was; he would not be swayed from his divine purpose.
The whisper inside his head urged him on, following the tiny signs of inhabitation to the correct area. He had only been here once or twice before, and this place was much changed since those times, damaged by Omega's rising. He had barely remembered its existence, though he had spent his whole life living above it in the building whose foundations the complex was. ShinRa had hidden so much from all of them. It had driven the one person he could almost love away; it had kept him from Mother for so long, and for that especially he would never forgive them. But justice had been taken and it had been so rewarding; now there was merely one more loose end to tie before the world would change once more for the last time.
This planet would belong to its rightful owners – he and Jenova. She wanted him to win it back; she promised wonders beyond comprehension, finally a fitting payment for everything he had sacrificed. And, merciful as she was, she had even allowed him this indulgence; even released her hold momentarily to let him do this himself. Alone.
But not for long.
The air grew warmer as he walked on, closer to the section of the complex that was in use. A smile crept over his lips and he quickened his pace by a margin, determined not to let impatience get the better of him but as unwilling to make the wait any longer than it needed to be. It had been too long to be alone; too long with no one but Mother for company, and though she offered everything else, she hardly provided succour. So close now…
A keypad was no match for the spurt of electricity he sent into it from a thunder materia, flicking the crimson light above the door to emerald and allowing him to slide it open and enter. This room was as inhospitable as the rest of the area, if a little above the outside temperature; and it was deserted too. Sephiroth moved on, more carefully now, little knowing how he would be received by anyone left here if Genesis had been joined by someone.
He was not sure how the redhead himself would welcome him – with a blade? An apology for what he had done? Curses, kisses, attack or acceptance? With his temperament, it could have been any or all of the possibilities, but it was prudent to stay alert though Sephiroth believed in his newly reborn state he could easily defeat the other. He just did not want it to come to that.
The next door slid open as easily, and there was definitely someone in here. But when Sephiroth entered cautiously, it was not familiar azure eyes that flicked to meet his in surprise, nor were they framed by flaming auburn hair and haughtiness. Instead, a younger man leapt up from where he had been reading to face him, bright hazel eyes glaring through him from under snow-white blond falls of hair. He was built heavier than Genesis, stronger and perhaps taller, though still not as tall as Sephiroth; yet still there was a definite familiarity about him, some set to his features that just…
"You," the blond hissed, and swept up an odd bladed gun aimed directly at Sephiroth's eyes, his whole body set in shock and concealed fear. "You're meant to be dead!"
Sephiroth had little idea who this impertinent boy was, though he looked familiar, but he was hardly surprised that he was recognised. At one point the entire world had thought of him as a hero, ShinRa's most shining success; then he had disappeared from the earth and the public mind, forgotten as easily as if he had never been as soon as they were no longer reminded of his existence. Only a few people had realised who it was that had almost destroyed Edge three years ago, the rest of the population content to merely rejoice that it was over. So it was not unusual that this one man was surprised to see him – merely strange that in return Sephiroth could have sworn he could almost identify the blond.
He did not reply to the accusation, searching the rest of the room instead. "Where is he?"
"Who?" the young man asked, tightening his hold on the weapon and glancing to where a second one lay behind him on the bed. It was obvious he knew what Sephiroth had come for – and equally as obvious he was afraid, even deep behind the facades he was building and constructing before him.
Sephiroth's lips twitched upwards in grim amusement and his left hand curled, ready to take the weight of Masamune if this boy continued his foolish denials. "You know precisely who I mean, and you know I will find him with or without your help. Now tell me. Where is Genesis?"
"You can't take him from us," came the reply almost immediately, bravado lying above fear now, and the sudden hard determination on the man's face made his name click in Sephiroth's mind. Weiss… Rhapsodos. He had met him only a few times, years and years ago, when Genesis' younger brother was barely a teenager but still carrying the determination to join his sibling in ShinRa. Sephiroth supposed it was not odd that he was here if Genesis was – the three Rhapsodos brothers had always been close, and with both SOLDIER and DEEPGROUND dissolved it would only have been a matter of time before they reunited.
Sephiroth smirked. He had accidentally been given a way to get to Genesis; something he could manipulate to lure the redhead to his side. Perfect.
"I won't let you."
Weiss' statement brought Sephiroth back to the current conversation and he smiled wider, a predator utterly confident in victory. Masamune seemed to fill the whole room as he willed it into his hand, ethereal vapour licking off the gleaming steel before it dispersed, but to his credit Weiss hardly flinched. Sephiroth brought the sword to his opponent's throat, caressing taut muscles with the flat of the blade before tilting it to almost pierce the skin. The gun aimed at him had dropped a little, trembling slightly with every movement of cold metal over its wielder's skin.
"What if he wants to join me?" Sephiroth asked in a purr of a voice, using Masamune to knock aside the gunblade held in weak hands. Weiss barely resisted, as easily controlled as his brother was with that tone… The delicious flame started to build in Sephiroth at the thought, the remembrance of what he could have made Genesis do. But there was still a core of resistance in the blond; he shook his head, dragging hazel eyes up to Sephiroth's with defiance swimming in doubt reflected there.
"He wouldn't leave us again," he retorted sharply, shrugging away from Masamune's touch but not raising his weapon. "Not now we've been through so much for him."
"Perhaps," Sephiroth pretended to concede, drifting closer and keeping his sword levelled on the side of Weiss' weapon to prevent him from moving it suddenly. "Or perhaps he will forget you when I ask."
A tremble ran through Weiss that Sephiroth could see clearly from here, only a few feet away. Good. He had successfully planted doubt in the other's mind; a step towards control, manipulation. One had to give them hope and snatch it away, then dangle it again; give the puppet a string to grip onto that would make him dance.
"Did he tell you all about me, little Rhapsodos?" he asked calmly, moving close to trail one hand down Weiss' weapon-bearing arm and grip the wrist hard, twisting. A hiss of pain escaped the blond's lips, so like the ones that Genesis had released in Nibelheim, so beautifully eloquent.
"He told me enough," Weiss snarled, struggling to jerk his arm away but caught irrevocably in Sephiroth's steel grip. "He told me how he gave you everything and you just kept taking, and how you threw it all back and destroyed him."
"He did, did he?" Sephiroth replied with a smirk, not letting up his hold despite how Weiss' features were tainted with discomfort, every tendon under the ex-General's fingers raised and taut with effort to escape. He found he cared little about Weiss' words and accusations, only half-believing that Genesis had said them.
It was almost true, in any case; destroying Genesis that night had been all that Sephiroth had wanted, payment for what the redhead had put him through in return since he had abandoned ShinRa. The bitter words were expected - surely Genesis would not be foolish enough to hold any lingering respect for the one who had taken everything in the light of consuming flames? He couldn't do – not when he had said such things in the Nibelheim reactor, made a wound and levered it wider, tearing despair deep into Sephiroth before he had found the comfort of Mother and she had salved every injury.
"And did he tell you what he did to me?" His voice was harsher now with bitter memories, but Weiss did not cower from the acidity of his words.
"He said that was his one regret," the blond said in a savage voice, stopping his struggles to glare into Sephiroth's eyes, inches from his own. "That he made you become dependent on a monster."
The hand on Weiss' wrist twisted and pushed, sending the blond sprawling back onto the flimsy camp bed, Sephiroth pinning him there with Masamune laid squarely across the rapidly beating pulse in his neck, silver hair falling haphazardly around them as a molten curtain.
"How dare you speak of her that way when you have no knowledge on the matter!" the ex-General growled, ice lacing every word. He could hardly contain his anger, at Weiss for uttering the insult but as much at Genesis for indoctrinating him in this way.
There was concern in Weiss' eyes now, well-hidden but easily visible to someone such as Sephiroth, who had spent most of his life observing, picking up nuances of movement and expression but never contributing. When one knew their enemy's weakness without even having to ask, the battle was all but won.
But seeing the man now, trembling under his blade and vulnerable to any move his captor made, calmed the harsh anger in Sephiroth's mind and he smiled slowly, letting the expression without any warmth worm its way into Weiss' thoughts. He shrugged deliberately and shifted Masamune a little, so close to slicing into smooth skin beneath.
"But how could you know any better?"
"What do you mean by that?" Weiss demanded, an inferred insult bringing cold dislike back into his gaze. His arms twitched underneath Sephiroth, struggling to free himself, but still firmly pinned like a butterfly tacked onto a board.
"Only that you must have nothing to go on but whatever Genesis tells you…" Sephiroth replied after a laden pause, watching the reactions his insinuations garnered, sweet confusion and denial tracing over the boy's features. "What does he talk about now? His Goddess and her precious gift that he failed to find? The injustice done to him?"
Weiss did not reply for a long time, his lips hard and thin in resolute silence until they burst open with a hiss at Masamune's bite, a needle-thin line of bright crimson lacing over the curve of a pale neck. Sephiroth did not cut any deeper; shallower wounds, after all, inflicted the most pain in numbers. Deeper incisions tended to gather together into a writhing mass of pain, not the exquisite, teasing agony he wanted to engender. A weakening agony, of a type that would prise open lips and free tongues far more easily than torture instruments; and there was an art to this, one that Sephiroth had become a master in.
"I won't tell you anything more!" Weiss growled, suddenly kicking Sephiroth off and gaining a deeper cut to his collarbone than his captor had intended. Thrown to the floor, Sephiroth instinctively rolled and came to stand only to face the barrels of both Weiss' gunblades, the smooth nubs of bullets just visible down the polished cylinders. He ignored the weapons, unafraid of them, and instead locked his eyes with hazel ones; defiant, belligerent, assured.
"You think that you can kill me?"
"I will," the blond retorted, snapping back both barrels to ready them with a snick before returning their aims with deadly accuracy to Sephiroth's chest. "I'm not intimidated by you, Sephiroth. I have no ties to you, unlike my brother. I don't care if you live or die." He smiled grimly, an expression that transformed his features into almost a mirror of Genesis'. "Though I would prefer the latter."
The simple unconcerned courage of this man forced Sephiroth to laugh, a low, rolling laugh that clearly unnerved Weiss, though he hid it well. The ex-General shook his head and stepped back a step; and then, in a manoeuvre too swift for his opponent to follow, swept Masamune in such an arc that knocked both the weapons levelled at him away and brought him close enough to Weiss to seize him and smash him back against a wall.
The skitter of the gunblades crashing against the opposite side of the room was the only sound besides heavy breathing as Weiss struggled wildly, gasping in pain at the hand holding him flat against the iron-clad wall, his feet just touching the floor. Sephiroth grinned – a savage, feral grin – and shifted closer to Weiss; so close that he could see in minute detail every nuance of expression over the blond's face, could feel every flutter of a panicked pulse, so close that he would only have had to move mere inches for their lips to touch. But though they might be similar, Weiss was not Genesis, and Sephiroth had no intention of doing so; such a contact would be far too personal, and he had no wish of becoming, in any description, intimate with this man. A hunter did not get to know their prey for the occasion of the kill.
"You are far weaker than you think, Rhapsodos," he murmured, watching Weiss' eyes fix onto his blades and strain for them. "Genesis could not kill me, and neither can you. He was too bound by foolish, mortal ties; you are too trapped by how you think he would react to the news that you murdered your brother's lover."
"You are nothing to him," Weiss gasped furiously, his endeavours growing marginally lighter, less determined. Sephiroth shook his head, still with that smile, marvelling at the blond's sheer denial – or useless will to protect Genesis by resisting here.
"That's not true, is it?" he said, a slight patronising tone dying his voice. "Tell me, how does he think to find me? He must have discussed his plans with you. And you tried to dissuade him…" He saw by the rising anger and draining of blood from Weiss' face and knew that he was close, or on, the answers. "Jealous, were you?"
"You can't just come here and take him back," came the snarled reply, bitterness and hatred dripping from his words. Sephiroth shrugged and released his hand, dropping Weiss in a crumpled, gasping heap at the base of the wall, the blond rubbing his fingers instinctively over fresh bruises. Above him, Sephiroth saw his imminent attempt to rush for his weapons but cut down Masamune in front of him; a living steel barrier to any move Weiss wanted to make.
"I think," he purred, using the edge of the blade to lift Weiss' face towards him, "that I shall. Tell Genesis he doesn't have to come looking for me."
With a flick, he knocked the blond's head back against the wall with a clang; he had got to the door before the enraged yell rumbled out and two bullets tore into the metal besides him. He looked at them; looked back at Weiss, the guns trembling in his hands; smiled.
"I suspect I will be seeing you again."
More bullets ripped through the air where he had stood moments before as the power Mother gave him manifested and his body disappeared, in a moment re-materialising above ground. Safe.
The same, most unfortunately, would not be said for Weiss when Sephiroth visited this place once more to claim his prize.