Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, you should know better than to think that I have that kind of money. I don't make money from writing these kinds of things, although it would be nice for several reasons. I write these for people, and for that smile I get when I get any kind of reviews.

I also do not own 'The Kill' which is the song containing the lyrics in this fanfiction. 30 Seconds To Mars is the genius behind those.

Description: Inspired by weeks obsessing over Crisis Core and watching Last Order for the thousandth time. Doesn't contain any spoilers that I know of, and if YOU think that there's one in here tell me and I'll put that in here as a warning. Mild language. Blah. You've read fanfiction before.

Also written for someone dear to me.

Break Me Down

What if I wanted to break?

Laugh it all off in your face?

What would you do?

-

It was horrid, the sound that left the raven hair SOLDIER as his back hit cold metal, a whimper following it as he allowed his tired body to slide down the material, a small trail of red trying to follow him. His hand tightened around the equally worn out sword, it's gray seeming to glow with the sickening color of mako from the room around them-- a color that he knew was ruining his own eyes as he tried to stand again.

His body hurt. It didn't want to move with him, it wanted to be leaning against the wall again. It wanted to sleep. Just fall asleep and let it stop. Wake up and have things be right. Wake up next to Sephiroth and tell him that the apartment was certainly on fire in hopes of getting him to stir earlier than normal. A good morning. Maybe a few kisses and the usual arguing over the fact that all foods were 'boring' in the fridge and they should 'totally go out for breakfast.'

It was something he wished for, to wake up again and restart everything. To be laughing and joking and tripping over nothing in hopes of his stupidity making others smile for once. He wanted to be back on the road, traveling with a sense of childish wonder.

But he wasn't. He was stuck in a reality that made him want to fall back onto his knees and scream until his lungs could no longer take it. The life of traveling and having fun and loving every second was gone, and in it's place was a demanding to mature and seriously face what was before him.

Insanity.

He forced himself to move, arms raising sword, it's metal shrieking as a thinner metal met it, the force of Sephiroth's blow causing him to stumble backwards a few steps, but his guard stayed where it needed to be.

SOLDIER, his dream, was not supposed to end like this. He knew that it would be hard, he knew that he was going to see horrible things, the things that ShinRa's pet Turks weren't allowed to see. He knew that he would be hurt in more ways than one. But this. The sound of metal against metal and the feeling of his will leaving him.

It wasn't what he wanted.

The small village was more than likely still on fire, the people there dead because they dare trust another human being. Other's angry and without hope to continue on. Kuraudou was somewhere, hopefully checking on Tifa and keeping her from doing anything else that would bring her to harm.

Him. The mako. Sephiroth. The calamity.

She was watching them, he couldn't help but shiver at the thought of the creature who had taken Sephiroth away from him. Jenova, high and mighty, in pieces in her glass throne was watching her 'son' fall into ruin and destroy anything that was important to him.

"Sephiroth!" It was more barked than anything, the youth's voice stern but obviously full of fatigue. He'd distanced himself enough to get a word out, his chest rising and falling rapidly while trying to find the breath that he'd lost in the room. The air was thick with something fowl, the mako causing the whole room to glow in a dizzying sort of way. It didn't seem right to call the other by name, a name that he had loved to say on numerous occasions due to the love attached...

Sephiroth wasn't Sephiroth anymore.

This wasn't one of their usual arguments, the kind started by insecurities and ending in tears. Those were normal. They always hurt, for one reason or another-- but the fact that he had gotten close enough to the other too see that much anger and confusion, that much emotion. It meant something. Something he thought was special. Something that wasn't supposed to end him. Something that wasn't going to end them.

He was on him again, swinging as if he was possessed by the true God of War, Zack's attempts to block becoming more and more so on the lagging side, every blow causing him to yelp and the metal to chip. He was running out of places to step backwards on the thick tubing that they were currently on, the entire room humming with machinery and hurting his ears.

A slip up, and he lost his grip on his inheritance, the Buster Sword wizzing past a set of chunk of tubing to lodge itself safely into a hunk of titanium. His legs instantly went into action, the male slipping from the pipe and diving for the sword. Gloved fingers strained, almost felt like they were going to pop off in that crucial moment, but a hand caught him by the hair, anything but gentle and everything including malice.

His cry bounced off the walls and became one with the humming, the sound of his body once again meeting a panel of metal following soon after before dying off. His arm gave a violent twitch, his body and the mako in it demanding that he stand and continue, not fall asleep or give in to anything. He ignored it, paid more attention to the blood that was still dripping down the side of his face. The cut on his arm, the ribs that were most likely broken. If he focused on them, maybe something would show some sympathy and make it stop.

The pain in his ribs did stop, however. In their place was something cool, almost like mint on the inside. The mako was being demanding, bent on keeping him alive and functional. With the pain dulled he would have to stand and fight, right?

No. No more. He couldn't take another blow. He was tired. He wanted to be back in his bed or in his office working on something trivial. He wanted Angeal to pop in and call him a dunce and end the simulation. Anything as long as he didn't have to stand and look into those catlike eyes that had forgotten him.

-

What if I fell to the floor?

Couldn't take this anymore?

What would you do?

-

But the blow came, Masamune meeting the metal behind his throbbing head, a bit of cheek and ear flesh splitting to make room for it to do so. The uncomfortable heat of fresh blood slithered its way down his neck and slowed upon meeting the thick fabric of his turtleneck. He wasn't sure if he had made a sound this time or not, eyes frozen on the other's form as if he were a mad dog tied to a tree waiting to be shot.

But he wasn't the one that was mad.

"You're a traitor, Zachary." Came the other's voice, smooth and cold from above him. "You betrayed me, and now you're betraying Kaasan. She..." The sword withdrew from it's metal place of resting slowly, causing the raven haired male to hiss slightly, the pain in his ear and cheek suddenly finding his senses, and the silver haired one smiled and exhaled a breath as if it was a happy sigh. "...does not like you."

And in that moment. He remembered meeting Angeal. His promotion. His fight on the train against the Wutai Soldiers. Reno chewing him out, and Rufus firing a warning shot at him the first time he stepped over the line. He remembered meeting Kuraudou. The conversation they had about SOLDIERs being monsters. Genesis tripping him and Angeal walking away as he screamed for answers.Telling the grunts that they would never amount to a thing and how he'd spoken to the Buster after doing so. He remembered the church, Earisu and taking the picture with Tifa. Sephiroth had looked away from the camera...

There was no telling what possessed him to move out of the way of the blade with such speed, the katana sticking in a place that his neck had been a moment before. It was unstuck and tempted for blood again with the same disturbing speed, Sephiroth turning slowly and allowing him to get his hands around the worn out blade and give it a dangerous swing. But it was easy enough for him to block, the thin katana taunting the heavy chunk of metal that pushed against it. Zack swung again, his boots not even on the floor and he screamed pitifully, anguish coating the sound of it all.

-

What if I wanted to fight?

Beg for the rest of my life?

What would you do?

-

"Why won't you answer me!?" A slam, and a clank. "Why did you do it, Sephiroth?!" A scream and the cry of metal. "They were our friends! Our fucking friendsand you killed them!" Laughter, and the sound of hope dying. "What about us?! What about all of those things you said-- all of those things that we were going to do together?!" Tears joined the blood on the cold floor in a small trail, following the one finally in enough pain to swing over and over again as if his life depended on it. The man before him stayed silent, blocking every single one. Zack hadn't landed a blow the entire time. But he was slowing down. The confusion and anger fading into misery. "...why don't you remember, Seph?"

There came no reply. There was nothing in the other's face but the will to carry out that bitch's orders. It was hopeless. He wasn't going to reach him... he was going to die trying. Sephiroth swung at him again, and his arms refused to lift.

His body flew an uncomfortable ways, a machine catching him by the back. The metal warped with the force of it, electricity cracking with some irritation as he lay still. The impact had caused his whole body to go somewhat numb, his feelings wanting to do the same as he lifted his eyes to watch Sephiroth turn, uninterested and slowly wander back to the tank that held his so called mother.

A combination of blood and tears rolled down his cheeks.

"You can't forget..."

He wanted to stand back up. Go over there and swing at him until the sense knocked it's way in...but his body would not move for him this time. It was finally done. One by one his senses left him. The blood wasn't in his mouth anymore. The metallic, fake smell of it all dulled. His hearing was leaving him, his voice seeming to be spoken in a far off tunnel as he asked Kuraudou to do what he couldn't: to end it. The glow of the room finally faded and his eyes slip shut-- and only after he fell into a sleep did the pain go away.

A part of him knew that when he woke it would be there again. The pain of knowing that he had lost someone else to the evil that was ShinRa. Freedom was all that he wanted to share with someone, but that freedom would only welcome him with death. He knew that, and it was something calming to think of. Maybe Angeal and the real Sephiroth were already arguing in the Lifestream.

Maybe he was dreaming, after all. In a few hours he would wake up partially on the floor wrapped in blankets and muttering at the sun for rising. All of his friends would be waiting for him in the cafeteria, and they could all drink hot cocoa until they were sick enough to take the day off. . .

But there were new voices, and his body was being moved to a stretcher. Something about being taken down to the basement. . .

Angeal, the real Sephiroth and all of his friends would have to wait a bit longer where they were. He still had to watch after Kuraudou, and teach him about so many things.

About being there for people.
About understanding the hard times.
About holding your temper and smiling instead of crying.
About protecting what you love.
And about knowing when to quit.

-

Look in my eyes.

You're killing me! Killing me!

All I wanted was you.

Reviews are always appreciated.

And peaches, too.

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