Warning and Authors Note
I wrote this out to try to sort through my own strange feelings about a loss. It is thick with angst and strange emotional turmoil. I thought this would help, but I don't think it did. I need to thank Vietta who helped me with this story and put up with my ranting about it as well.
It is an odd thing for me to write and in first person. I don't think I have ever written an entire story in this manner before and I very much doubt that I will do so again.

This is very much a departure from what I normally present.

One shot. Reeve first person point of view..

Disclaimer:
Don't own anything in the Final Fantasy fandom, just using for my own amusement

BREAKDOWN

It's stupid.

I don't know why I'm tearing up at the sight of the old picture.

It's so very stupid.

It shouldn't be affecting me this way; I hardly knew the man. We were nothing more than acquaintances.

I think I only talked with him once.

I can't understand why there are tears forming in my eyes and a pained feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Is it just the loss of such a man? He had been great. He had been the Great General Sephiroth and was a seemingly unstoppable.

He's gone. He has been gone for quite awhile so why is it upsetting me now?

The picture shows him in the grandeur that he fell from. Looking at it makes my throat hurt and my eyes burn.

It's silly, stupid, dim-witted, asinine and childish to be feeling this way.

I had always wanted to get to know him better. He was always so confident, proud and in control. I had admired that in the man. I had thought at one point we could have become friends. I had always enjoyed listening to his cool voice in the meetings we had attended together and how he always had everyone's ear. The subtle teasing he would give to the other military personnel that he knew well and how firmly he put them in their place for when they went out of line.

I wish I had talked to him more. I would have enjoyed hearing his opinions on things outside the military.

Maybe if we would have talked things would have been different.

A hand touches my shoulder and I draw my watery eyes from the picture. Tseng is giving me a soft look. "Are you alright?"

A simple question and a comforting touch caused an unwanted tear to fall.

I hate the weakness I'm feeling. Why am I crying over a man that I had a hand in killing? I wipe at my eyes furiously. "I'm fine," I lie. I throw the paper down so that I don't have to look at the image of the fallen man.

I didn't know that I had admired him so much; enough to draw tears out of me like this.

"You need to rest. We can do the rest without you," Tseng said softly, patting my back. I notice that he's using his body to hide my tears from the other Turks and the WRO that are in the area.

"I'm fine." My voice sounds anything but fine as I feel another tear roll down my cheek and into my beard.

I want to understand why I'm crying over a man that is long dead.

Tseng urges me to stand. "You have been pushing yourself too hard. I'll escort you back to your tent where you can rest."

I try to say that I'm fine again but all that comes out is an embarrassing sob. My throat hurts and my vision becomes blurry. Tseng is the only thing that keeps my knees from buckling under me. I'm grateful for the firm grip on my arm.

I take a couple of deep breaths as we walk and I am finally able to get some coherent words out. "I do think I need to sleep."

Tseng just gives me a nod and a comforting squeeze on my arm as we continue to walk out of the abandoned lab. I see some confused looks and I lower my head so that no one can see that I have been crying and that more of the silly tears are pooling in my eyes.

"I am such a fool," I mutter under my breath. I hate how weak I sound.

I'm stronger than this. I have always prided myself on my emotional control just as I once admired Sephiroth's. I don't have his ability to stare down the most stubborn of men but I know how to use my words and logic to keep things going the direction that I need them to go. I can stare and talk down the angriest of men and have.

Yet I weep over a man I hardly knew.

"Reeve?"

I raise my eyes see Vincent giving me a confused look as he tilts his head to the side. It would be humorous if I didn't want to cry from the thick concern that I hear in his voice and see in his face.

I don't respond as I pull away from the leading arm of Tseng and enter) my tent. I go to my small desk and sit down. Images on my computer show the uploaded pictures that they have been placing on my computer. They blur from fresh tears that I'm weakly trying to will away.

I can't see who enters but I feel Vincent's cold metal hand on my arm gently pull away from where I'm sitting. "You are going to rest." He nudges me towards my cot as he speaks.

I realize that I have not used the cot for more than three days.

Tseng is standing just in the door way, giving me a concerned look. I see that he holds the picture I had been looking at and I almost ask for it. "I will get a Sleep materia if you are going to be so stubborn."

I sit on my cot as the two men give me concerned looks.

"When was the last time you ate?" Vincent asks.

I can't remember and try to think of my last meal.

"I will ensure that food is brought," Tseng states simply as I fail to answer.

I'm touched by their concern for me. Tseng and Vincent are men that are not known to show emotions and they always gave off an aura of strength. It is something that I wish I could present.

I feel like a blubbery fool and that thought sends more tears down my face. My nose is running and my head is swimming. Tissues are handed to me and I use them. A leather gloved hand on my shoulder and a strangely soft voice urge me to rest.

Tseng had left. I didn't hear him leave. It's Vincent who is comforting me now. "Do you wish to speak of it?" It's strange having the man who has his own heavy burden of sorrow asking me if I want to talk about what is making me cry.

I don't, so I shake my head.

It doesn't make any sense and there is no logic in the feeling of missing a man that I didn't know.

"You have been pushing yourself to hard." Vincent sits beside me. "It will do no one any good if you do not take care of yourself."

Was that what Sephiroth had missed? His dearest of friends had left him and he had no one left to confide in his heavy level of sorrow. Is that why he went insane? I have friends that still surround me and even in their silence have supported me. Two of the most unlikely people to seek emotional support from are currently offering me comfort.

"Do you cry, Vincent?" I don't really expect an answer from him. My own voice is thick with sorrow.

The answer took awhile and he spoke it in a low voice, "Sometimes. It helps purge the soul when it becomes dark." He hands me another tissue.

I take it, wiping my eyes and blowing my nose; feeling a little embarrassed doing this in front of Vincent. He doesn't seem to mind though.

"Tseng went to get you some food. Do you think that you will be able to eat?" Vincent asks after I have finished mopping my face. The soft concern in his voice nearly sets my tears falling anew.

I hate being a slave to these strange emotions.

It is a loss, and I have lost a lot in my life, and I just don't understand why it took so long for the grief to hit me.

Tseng returns with some food. The thought of the head of the Turks bringing me food and the small gesture of kindness from him sets me off into a new set of tears; just when I thought I was finally getting my emotions back under control. Tseng places the tray of food aside and pulls out a materia. They are going to use Sleep on me. I can tell by the concerned frowned on their faces that both men are worried.

Is this what it felt like for Sephiroth? He lost himself in a fury that caused him to nearly destroy the world, maybe I'm destined to lose myself in a torrent of silly tears? Sephiroth didn't have his friends to comfort him. His madness had made the world turn against him instead of going to aid him.

I really wish I had talked to him more.

The green ball pressed held against my chest and Tseng casts the spell on me. I allow my burning eyes to close as I feel leather hands guiding me to my cot.

I just hope that dreams will elude me as the darkness takes me.