Dedicated to my friend, Siiri, a great person with great thoughts. Just a little Christmas present...hyvää joulua.

Of Nails And Sinners

I - The Sham Mirrors

I don't own anything

Vincent was leaning to Sephiroth's chest behind him, exposing his neck while turning his head to the left. Eyes closed and mouth partially open, breathing heavily from the Mako poisoning, he tried to remember, to think anything at all.

Nothing.

So he focused on his feelings.

And this felt nice.

It was dark in the room they were sitting in, the dim lightning from the streets of Midgar coming from the window being the only source of light they had. He liked being in the dark. Yes…

It felt safer that way.

It was also warm in there. The water was dripping from his hair while the hot steam was filling the whole room, blurring the window on the other side of the room. He had been in the dark before although he could not quite recall where and when.

Vincent's companion placed two fingers on his cheek. He leaned on the cool touch. Then the same fingers were on his neck to feel his pulse. He felt his heart rate speeding up for some reason. The silver haired man had his left arm wrapped around his waist while casting Cure to his chest. It was covered with cuts and bruises from the fight they were in earlier. He gasped, realizing the pain was fading away. And slowly, he opened his glowing, crimson-coloured eyes, now focused on the other man. Two sets of Mako eyes met. There was a sardonic smile on the lips of this beautiful creature and the expression on the flawless face seemed somehow troubled. Creature's deep, unnaturally glowing turquoise eyes gazed intensively into his red ones. Maybe the creature could see everything just by doing that. There was coldness in those eyes, a flash of madness, pure wickedness and cruelty. He did not fear those eyes. He found himself on some level fascinated by that coldness, that untouchable icy mask the creature was wearing. Somewhere behind that mask the man had created he was burning inside. He saw the agony which uncertainty had arisen. He wanted to ask what had caused it. Instead of saying anything, he leaned a little more backwards, closing his eyes again. He could feel the steady beating of the man's heart. Those arms were wrapped around his body again. The warmth was comforting, maybe more…almost intoxicating. The situation felt unrealistic. He was dozing off.

He could feel the light kisses on his right cheek.

"Hey…"

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look hazily at the man.

"Are you alright?"

He was not sure how to respond to this question so he laid his head back to the man's chest and sighed. His eyelids felt heavy.

"What's wrong with him?"

"His eyes are glowing and he won't respond to anything. It's Mako."

"But he hasn't been anywhere near…"

"Life stream. That must be it."

Voices in the dark. He had heard them somewhere before. His eyes were burning as he tried to open them. He closed them and tried again. Nothing but a blur. Then he realized there was a group of people looking anxiously down at him. A man with huge, dark bangs of hair pointing at every direction possible gestured to the others to back off. They did as they were being told to do and walked silently out of the room. Two of them did not move. One was a young man with blond hair that was standing out equally wildly as the dark hair of the man next to him. The other one was a silver haired man with annoyed and a little worried expression on his otherwise calm face. The man was drumming the bedside table with his fingers. They all seemed nervous.

"Can you hear me?"

He looked at the dark haired man questioningly.

The three glanced at each other.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

He opened his mouth only to realize his throat was too sore to speak so he nodded instead.

The group smiled although one of them tried to hide it by placing his hand before his mouth.

"Can you remember anything?"

He shook his head.

The smiles faded as disappointment took place on their features.

"Do you know who we are?"

He thought that question for a long time, concentrating on the faces before him but soon shook his head again. The silver haired man looked away. His fist crashed loudly to the bedside table.

Disapproving glares from the other two.

"Why are you even here, Sephiroth? To laugh internally at his state?" the blond man hissed through his gritted teeth.

Then there were more glares between the three.

"Look, why don't you just go. You can come here later with the others," was being whispered wearily.

"I am not moving."

"Go, -now-."

He closed his eyes and tried to tune them out.

It seemed to work.

"Hey, mind waking up?"

Someone was shaking his shoulder lightly. The loose fabric of his boxers was still soaked from the shower. It did not really bother him. The lights were on and there was a towel on his shoulders. He was shaking from the cold. He did not mind. Familiar eyes were locked into his.

He felt like he was drowning on those deep pools of Mako.

He did not mind at all.