Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, Vincent Valentine, Sephiroth, Professor Hojo, Shinra, or any other character/location/whatever copyrighted by Square Enix. The random, nameless scientists, however, are my own creations.

Kind of a long-ish (Ha. No, not long-ish, just long.) note here. This will probably be the only one of the story unless I feel the need to say something extra.

First off, many thanks to the reviewers of my last story, if you happen to be reading this. Since it was a one-shot I could not express my gratitude in another author's note but your words gave me encouragement as well as a little more confidence in my writing. So yeah, I love you guys.

Now this is a story that has always just kind of sat in the back of my mind and has served as background (kind of) to a lot of my Sephiroth/Vincent fiction (though my ideas about their relationship have never been recorded so...). A lot of the scenes that will appear in this story have been done and redone in many fanfics before this one, so I can understand if they cause some exasperation. Maybe my slightly different (hopefully) twist on things will make those scenes a little more interesting. Who knows.

Originally this story was going to be about brief meetings Sephiroth and Vincent had throughout the timeline of FF7 pre-game (Er, before the original game), but then I decided what the heck, I'll just write up their entire history together (Meh, not really. There's a bit of time skipping so we only get the important stuff). There will be some nonangst-y parts amongst the angst, but for the most part it will be a total angstfest. Not as angst-filled as some fiction... but still pretty angst-y.

Finally, a few warnings. This story isn't rated M for pr0n or language, but for gore. A little later on there will probably be a bloody fight scene or two and there will be a bit of "disturbing imagery" (movie rating terminology!) throughout, but for the most part it'll be pretty mild. I might bump the rating down to T if I finish writing and it all hasn't turned out quite as gory as I thought it would. Also, this is a Sephiroth/Vincent story, but it can be interpreted as more of a father/son-ish relationship (or maybe more of a mother/son relationship. Vincent is a bit more maternal than paternal... -cough-) than a romantic one. It all just depends on how you squint at it.

Oh, and the title won't make sense for the first few chapters but it will later on.

And the Italic text ends here.

He had been ripped violently from soothing, soft, green light to searing pain and cold. Behind him there was a frigid solid but he wasn't sure what it could be. His mind was slow, his vision unfocused, even his sense of smell seemed to be be malfunctioning as he could not discern any scent but a stinging antiseptic. There was crying somewhere in the distance, but the cry was so soft he was not sure if it was real or a part of a rapidly fading dream.

A low, almost maniacal voice drifted from the darkness around him, "... Finally brought ba... alive! Truly I... brilliant..."

Without warning, there was cold, clammy flesh pressed against his forehead. Fingers, thin and wet, brushed his skin lightly as his dark bangs were pushed from his eyes. There was a dark, familiar scent that made him want to wrinkle his nose. He couldn't place it, but it was so very familiar...

"Awake... yet...? No dou.... side affect..." The icy hand left his forehead and the presence at his side faded.

Without the mysterious person at his side, he was left alone with the throbbing pain in his chest. He tried to move but only succeeded in twitching his fingers slightly. Slowly, the coldness at his back was becoming more distinct as feeling flowed back into his body. The pain in his chest too was beginning to spread and the familiar scent from earlier was becoming stronger. Somewhere in the surrounding gloom, someone one was still crying. Distantly he wondered why no one was trying to comfort the source of the sad sound, but the thought quickly faded as a sharp ache began to form behind his eye and a quiet groan was forced from his throat.

The soft thuds of somewhat-heavy footfalls found his ears. He imagined polished black shoes on hardwood floor before his mind became unfocused once again. It was so difficult for him to keep a single thought in his mind for more than a few seconds, but he was unable to dwell on the reason behind his sluggishness for the presence had returned. His face was suddenly hit with hot breath and he tried to turn and look at the unknown person but all he could see was darkness and a deep green glow that seemed to have no definite source.

"... This... probab... help..." There was a small prick on the inside of his right elbow and at the same time the clammy hand reappeared and pressed suddenly against his chest.

And then there was agony. All his senses were functioning perfectly now, in fact, they were working almost too well. Immense pain shot from where the hand was placed to his head before rocketing down to his toes. The solid at his back was so cold it burned and his body jerked violently at the new sensations. His eyes were wide and the blackness before him seemed all consuming, he wanted to scream both in pain and in fear, but his voice was caught in his throat. There was a loud, mechanical hum in the background and the distant cry was suddenly magnified. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized the cry was shrill and high, the cry of a child or a baby. He could not even begin to fathom the reason a baby would be in this dark place of pain but all logical thought was quickly swallowed by another wave of agony and spasms.

The smell of powerful disinfectants hit him once again and his nose burned furiously. He could feel his eyes beginning to water when the smell was abruptly overpowered by the dark scent from before. Grim recognition rolled through his mind. Blood.

Immediately after the thought processed, he noticed how sticky his chest was, how wet it was near the origin of his pain. He craned his neck forward despite its stiffness. Pain lanced down his spine but he continued to push, determined to ease his suspicions.

Where smooth, unbroken skin should have been there was instead a gaping hole. It spanned from the left of his upper chest, where his heart resided, to the center. A wound of such size surly should have killed him. He was completely covered in blood and though the blood on his sides had begun flaking, there was still a copious amount wet and fresh around the cavity in his chest. He felt instantly nauseous and as he stared into near-hollow space he saw a soft, pink mass buried well inside give a sudden, pulsing twitch accompanied by a familiar lubb-dub in his ears. He screamed, horrified, and convulsed, sending his head backwards and his eyes away from the disturbing sight. A sharp, metallic twang rocked his brain as the back of his head met the icy table behind him.

A metal table. An operating table, uncomfortable and cushion-less. He remembered seeing such a table once in a lab belonging to a madman.

Overcome with terror, he struggled, but found his extremities bound. His eyes darted to his right and saw a cruel smile and coal black eyes behind shining lenses. Eyes filled with intelligence and the unholy light of insanity, eyes convinced of their own, undoubtable brilliance.

Somehow, over the sounds of his own, ragged breathing and panicked noises, crying drifted into his ears once more, but this time he was able to determine a direction. His wide eyes flicked past the insane man next to him and spotted an operating table similar to his own deep in the darkness of the lab. Upon it was a tiny, struggling form bundled in a single blanket. The piercing noise stopped abruptly and the bundle stilled just long enough to turn towards him slightly.

He could see feathered hair of some undefinable shade atop the baby's head. The green glow of the room reflected off its pale hair, forming a sort of halo around it. Even with the distance between them, he could see the baby's wide, unnatural eyes glowing from across the room. A bright shade of green he had never seen before and dilated pupils that were slit vertically like a cat's. The pain in his body seemed to quiet momentarily as he stared into those eyes, both fascinated and disturbed.

He could remember, from a time that seemed so long ago, a name whispered in a soft, pleasant voice by a beautiful woman with long brown hair. A name she had said to him with a frightening and obsessive sort of happiness prior to her fall, a death bestowed upon her by the very baby before him now.

And then there was pain once again. Cold hands were pressed against his chest as he gave an unexpected lurch. His body surrendered to a new series of convulsions and as his consciousness faded he spared the child one last look. The baby watched him with a calmness that was quite at odds with its earlier screaming.

The edges of his vision were blackening rapidly and as he was swallowed by darkness he uttered a single word.

"Sephiroth..."