Summary: A sequel to Silent Sacrifice S/G ending. Sephiroth and Genesis travel to distant places, meet their fates and fight for their humanity.
Disclaimer: I own nothing or no one. Why would I need to, anyways?
Pairings: Sephiroth/Genesis
A/N: warning: dark themes, hints of madness, violence. Genesis' memories, part 2.
Chapter IV.
Shards (part II).
Genesis woke up in the morning to the sight of Sephiroth sitting with his bare back to him. His chin rested on his knees, and silver hair shrouded his frame. Redhead couldn't resist running his hand through those soft silken tresses. And immediately Sephiroth turned to face him.
"Good you are awake, Genesis," his smooth deep voice demanded at once. "I would like to know what had happened yesterday."
Genesis closed his eyes, pretending not to care.
"I was aroused," he lied rather indifferently. But what annoyed him sometimes Sephiroth was able to tell when he was not sincere.
Long ethereal fingers brushed his cheek.
"Don't lie to me, Genesis." With a faint reproach.
Azure eyes opened. Angelic face was mere inches away from his, emeralds hazed over. Loose silver strands hung touching his bare chest. He winded one slowly around his finger, an arch smile curving his lips.
Well, if Genesis couldn't lie he could distract his lover. Stretching lazily he pushed the blanket away and crawled onto Sephiroth's lap between his long legs. His palms firmly settled on his lover's bended knees.
Silver eyebrows rose.
"I am still waiting for an answer."
Genesis's fingers began caressing his thigh, sinking further and further; he drew closer and closer, until their lips almost touched.
"I am going to be gentle this time," purred Genesis in a low sensual voice.
Sephiroth immediately moved away, coldness seeping through every word he said.
"That is not the point."
Slightly frustrated, he made another attempt to kiss his lover, failing once more. Redhead couldn't help but feel he was losing his temper.
"You know," He spoke with rising anger, "I hate when you are in your holier-than-thou mood. Why don't you just admit you love it and stop avoiding me?"
Resting his back against the headboard Sephiroth quietly sighed.
"I never said I disliked it, Genesis."
"Then why are we arguing?"
His silver-haired angel waved aside.
"I am not. What I am saying is that I won't allow you to hide from answers just by having... this." He gestured to the bed.
Genesis' eyes flashed, fists clenched.
"Oh, don't tell me you are sharing everything," he hissed.
Sephiroth shrugged, answering in the same calm patient manner.
"I am not. But I know how to deal with my struggle. You don't seem to cope."
An arrogant sneer curled his lips.
"I certainly regret you have such an impression."
Sephiroth lifted Genesis' chin and looked directly into sky-blue eyes. Such gentle tender touch… such impossibly demanding gaze. Genesis swallowed listening to his words.
"I'll wait until you are ready. Because it is your heart that I love. A heart that showed me - this world is beautiful."
Redhead snorted, rising to his feet. He had a sudden desire to answer ruthlessly, feeling familiar pain in his chest that always indicated those shards would be back all too soon. He simply could not forget…
"My heart…" He turned aside and strolled to the bathroom. Before disappearing he added with cruel mockery. "But what if there is a void there?"
He knew he touched Sephiroth's sore spot as well. His head hung, silver moire veiling flicker of pain in emerald eyes.
Pain and barely hidden fear.
What if their hearts were nothing but a black empty void?
*flashback*
Undesired.
Genesis slowly stepped out of the shadows, bending down and touching woman's pulse. Her heart wasn't beating. His true mother, the one that gave birth to him also died, killed herself. Her body clad in dark green dress was helplessly sprawled on the floor.
He wondered what Angeal would say.
And the moment he thought of his friend the dark haired warrior entered the hut, his Buster Sword unsheathed.
Genesis greeted him with a nod.
"Welcome, my friend."
His austere features were torn between disgust and fear.
"What had you done, Genesis?" He asked in a quiet stern voice. "You are a monster."
Redhead smirked, a twisted cruel smirk.
"Now there is nothing new there. But, don't worry," his melodic voice altered just a bit, allowing something that still resembled comforting to ring in it, "she took her own life. I had nothing to do with it. Perhaps, she simply couldn't stand our nature…"
Angeal stepped back, looking as if he was slapped across his face when Genesis passionately demanded.
"Do you understand now why we can't live on that side any longer?"
There was a commotion outside, and Genesis abruptly turned and walked away, without waiting for his friend's answer. Zack had stormed passed him without even noticing. Like a shadow Genesis stood outside waiting until Angeal and his apprentice were out of the hut again. He didn't deign to listen to their conversation. He knew Angeal much better than that ignorant youth; his childhood friend would never return to work for Shin-Ra, not after what they had done to him and his parents. Zack's attempts were so laughable, that he almost chuckled.
Angeal was out of the house first. It appeared his apprentice just shoved him aside and into the opened door. Zack shouted something about honor. How pathetic. Honor? How a monster like Angeal and like himself could possess an honor? It was like suggesting a fish could fly.
When Zack ran after his mentor Genesis tripped him, and raven-haired youth fell. In the mean time Angeal got up, sheathed his sword and started to walk away. Genesis pushed himself off the hut wall.
"My friend," he addressed Angeal's back, "do you fly away now?
To a world that abhors you and I?.."
Angeal's raven-haired apprentice shouted something like "Shut up!" but Genesis didn't even look at him, continuing in his smooth mocking voice, azure eyes fixed on broad black-haired frame.
"…All that awaits you is a somber morrow
No matter where the winds may blow…"
Angeal didn't even look at him. He also denied Genesis.
Undesired.
Zack jumped to his feet, angered, bewildered and they both watched Angeal disappear. Then Genesis turned his attention to him again.
"I don't see Sephiroth here today… but are you game?"
That should be interesting. A summon materia appeared in his gloved fingers and he used it to call a monster. That would keep Zack busy and provide an entertainment for him.
After all Sephiroth didn't deign to show up. Genesis felt slightly bored...
And undesired. No wonder his other friend didn't even want to see what became of him…
He laughed harshly, as Zack began his fight…
Genesis carefully closed the bathroom door and climbed over the high edge and into the bathtub. Turning the water on he sat down, not even making a single attempt to take a shower. He head to remember everything, all his fall and rise, or those shards would not melt.
It was useless to run from his past.
Azure eyes closed. Darkness fell and in that darkness…
*flashback*
Thirst.
Cold metal surface of a lab table underneath his palm. His hand slid, reaching for the glass stem. Taking it to his lips Genesis made himself swallow the contents of a goblet. Cool limpid water touched his lips, filled his mouth and pain subsided, leaving him weakened and tired.
Genesis sat, leaning on the headboard of his bed. Slow listless thoughts coursed through his mind, and he was unable to concentrate on any particular thread. He would think of Sephiroth, of Angeal's denial, then of Sephiroth again, and in his heart those names stirred nothing. As if they never existed.
Yesterday Genesis wasted his last chance. Sephiroth offered him love, and he walked away. Redhead hurt him deeply, but knowing his friend, he would most likely forget about Genesis' existence. When it came to treachery, Sephiroth wasn't the most forgiving person.
Genesis closed his eyes, forcing himself to remember…
Pure stream of silver moonlight, perfectly shaped bow of thin lips, flicker of emerald flames between half-closed eyelids…
Nothing. Today he felt nothing. Today he desired no one. Today he could only think of a cure.
Azure eyes opened as if unwilling to see too much of the world around him, only noticing a book on his chest. Opening the first page Genesis read slowly, thoughtfully as if trying to taste the words he spoke.
"I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air…"
Steps… their light sounds touching Genesis ears as butterfly wings. Only one man knew a way to his room, only one man could visit him. Such was Genesis' desire.
After all monsters like him should be hunted down and forgotten.
"Ah, Hollander," clear sky-blue eyes riveted on scientists' obese frame as he entered, on his unshaved face and dirty robe. He was drunk, Genesis thought with disdain.
Hollander tottered, putting his arm on the wooden headboard in such a masterful manner. He smirked, looking down at redhead, and in those fish-like eyes… Creator looked at his creation with almost parental fondness. Creator looked at a failure knowing he had power over it.
"Genesis," with slight almost mocking satisfaction, "how are you doing?"
Azure ayes flashed, fists clenching involuntarily.
How dare he? How dare he laugh?
"Much better," he forced those words with as much indifference as he could muster.
Hatred, blinding, scorching overflowed him as a mountain streamlet after the spring storm. He imagined how his long fingers would settle on Hollander's neck, how his hands would move, abruptly, with ruthless precision, how his neck would snap with a crunching sound, how his lifeless body would collapse, broken as a toy in maladroit hands of an impatient child. Those visions stirred pleasure, strange, almost tangible, but…
Hollander had to live until he found his remedy.
A thirst for cure was burning as a venom is his veins. A thirst for cure was driving him insane.
A smirk played across Genesis' features. Lifeless, fixed, it clung to his lips in a planned studied gesture.
He was mocking the whole world because the world had mocked him.
"We are going to attack the Science Department."
Genesis nails deeply sank into his palm. He ordered him around as if he was an obedient plaything.
"What for?"
Hollander looked pleased, hearing his voice, melody of anger and hatred merging with his natural sound.
"I want Hojo's life."
"Where is the cure?"
Cackling laugh.
"You dictate your demands. I certainly like that."
Hollander left, shuffling his feet, swaying, almost falling to one side. Genesis didn't look at him. Before the scientist left the room, his voice rang in redhead's ears again:
"Just remember. There is no way back without a cure. And I would give you one… once you obey."
He spoke as if there was any way back at all. Genesis was a monster and no cure would change that. He laughed under his breath, long fingers unclenching. There were scarlet crescents on his palm and blood underneath his nails. If it wasn't for this pain, Genesis would have lost his temper and killed Hollander.
He was no possession. He was no toy.
Rising abruptly Genesis headed for the door. He would not sit around expecting a cure; while he could still obey Hollander's demands, that search for the gift was the best hope.
His copies guarded the exit. Their emotionless azure eyes looked at him with no curiosity.
Such irony. He was a copy of himself now, with white streaks in his auburn hair, with morbidly pale face. And his toys, his clones were blameless. He let his fingers slide along the golden skin, along those feminine lips. Copy felt nothing, continuing to stare at Genesis with void empty eyes. Its previous personality was erased completely.
And his… his soul remained trapped in a helpless husk.
Genesis pushed aside his copy with genuine hatred. Why? Why was he degrading, but clones remained untainted? Did they also laugh at him?
He needed a cure. He craved for cure.
That thirst was stronger than any other.
Thirst… Almost subconsciously Genesis drew forward, filing his cupped hands with water and swallowing warm clear liquid. It didn't help. It wasn't thirst that could be quenched by any means.
It was there, inside him, always.
The thirst to forget about everything, about…
*flashback*
The dying dream.
Genesis Rhapsodos – among other things like receiving a perfect education, reading and composing poetry, improving his skill with blade and progressing in warfare tactics – excelled at breaking people. Unlike anyone else he knew much about human weaknesses. Dread of death. Fright for their families and beloved. Genesis knew how to play with those all-too-human foibles. It was his way of feeling he still had power over something in this world.
Those two captives wouldn't be able to put up much resistance. He could read their emotions and thoughts as if they were an opened book. In all known world he knew there was but one man who remained an enigma. For the last few days he couldn't stop thinking about him. Perhaps, since their paths crossed often lately. Or perhaps for no reason at all.
Sephiroth.
That name was as a melody to his ears, as sprays of molten silver, as emerald flames…
That name was mocking him. He hated that name.
Genesis pushed off the wall and came to stand by the metallic table. Flashes of pain followed his every movement, and he had to make inhuman efforts to keep his face calm. Thin almost feminine fingers circled the stem, clenched. Genesis lifted the goblet to his lips, drunk. Water touched his tongue, but he couldn't feel its cool taste. Genesis had to drink a lot or he would have withered from thirst.
He was fading away, day by day. Two nights ago his senses began to die away, and today…
He poured himself more water, quaffed it up.
Today his hair turned completely grey, last golden locks disappeared. Genesis used to like looking at his reflection in the mirror, reveling in understanding how young and desirable he was. As of lately, his room had no mirrors.
Black thigh-high boots with low heels rustled against the stone floor as grains of sand, poured off by the wind. Scarlet leather coat creaked with his every move. Genesis came to stand in front of his captives, noticing thin streamlets of cold sweat on their foreheads as he stared at them with hatred. Those two were Hollander's assistants, back during those days when he conducted his experiment. He wasted a lot of strength and time trying to find them both, and now he had the right to demand an answer. Just one single answer.
"What is the cure for… this?" His hand rose to his pale face gracefully, with dignity. The other reached out to take a gag out of older captive's mouth.
"We don't know," a quiet reply immediately followed.
"Wrong choice," Genesis' feminine lips curved into a cruel smile as his palm slapped across the younger prisoner's face. Stream of blood gushed from his broken nose, his head jerked limply, and the younger man uttered something that reminded a muffled sob. The older one paled.
"B-but we know n-nothing," he mumbled hastily, stammering. The younger weakly nodded. "Hollander did everything, we just…"
Genesis had no patience that day. In a swirl of scarlet leather and crimson steel he touched the younger man's throat with his blade, so deceptively slowly, tenderly as if just caressing. Blood immediately began oozing from thin scarlet cut on prisoner's neck, droplets landing on grey clothes. He mumbled, eyes visibly widening as his fingers clawed the metal surface of his chair in agony.
Blood drained from older man's face. He uttered a strange gurgling sound, desperately but unavailingly fighting disgust and fright. After younger captive's body went still his stomach turned.
With a fastidious grimace Genesis took a step back so that bile wouldn't stain his boots. Now he was broken, he thought with satisfaction. Now he'd say anything.
He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently wiped older man's lips. The younger captive was dead, and last carmine drops were lazily falling on the floor.
The one remaining captive was making hoarse sounds, eyes dark from bodily fear.
"I am asking my question for the last time," Genesis affectionately purred, circling the chair despite pain that followed his every movement. Fingers clutched at the metal back of the chair. "How can you stop the degradation process?"
The older man just wheezed and mumbled. Genesis' eyebrows shot up.
"S-cells," the scientist finally forced out of his mouth, "Jenova…"
"What is it?" Genesis immediately demanded.
But all he could say was:
"S-cells… Jenova…"
Genesis shook his head with barely hidden frustration. Who was Jenova? And where can he find those S-cells? But it was a beginning…
Redhead looked intently at the prisoner. He was still young and quite handsome. Too bad he broke too soon…
"Please, spare me…" he implored watching Genesis' hand rise.
"Hush," redhead pressed his index finger to prisoner's lips.
Hollander's assistant flinched, but immediately froze catching his annoyed glance. Genesis closed his eyes, compelled the world to narrow down to a single detail, to a single sensation and brushed the man's lips.
He felt nothing. Nothing of those feelings touching Sephiroth's lips stirred.
Either his skin grew numb or the only person able to ignite such bliss in him was his former friend. Azure eyes flung open. Pushing unruly body aside he came to stand by the window.
Sephiroth…
Genesis hated him.
His dream was burning in flames of his madness.
His dream was dying with him.
Yes, on that day Genesis hated Sephiroth. And loved on the next.
Loved and hated, hated and loved… until he found Hollander's notes on Jenova project. There he read about his beloved friend being a monster, there he found his cure.
And as strange and ironic as all his life had been they all were the same.
His friend. His love. His cure…
*flashback*
Shards.
Genesis was smiling. That smile reminded him of a tired unbidden guest whose presence wasn't welcome for quite some time. He couldn't remember when he was smiling like that. Without bitterness, without mockery, without arrogance.
A tired but genuine smile.
He had found a cure.
Snow fell. The storm was gathering strength; raging wind threw hundreds of snowflakes into the window, and they obediently fell onto the glass, melting, melting, melting…
Like an ice shard.
Like human life.
Genesis turned around and his gaze immediately fell onto the wide screen which had an image of a tall silhouette stubbornly walking through the storm. Snowflakes danced around his silver hair as halo; thin lips were pressed together, emerald eyes cold and unreadable.
Enigma. Icy impenetrable enigma. Long fingers touched the screen, gently sliding along the striding frame. Genesis desired him now, perhaps even more than ever since he was the cure. Since he had a small hope for putting the shards of his life together into something worthy to be called living.
Silver-haired general lifted his head as if feeling Genesis' eyes on him. Certainly he couldn't know redhead was watching him, but feel something – with his mako enhanced senses – definitely. Genesis smiled to himself. Sephiroth would belong to him, with time.
When one of his toys reported about the crash Genesis ordered his clones to watch them closely. It was too easy.
Sephiroth was too careless. Perhaps he wanted Genesis to know about his presence. But what of his intentions? Why was he heading to Modeoheim? Did Shin-Ra send him or did he come on his own accord?
It didn't matter. He couldn't risk wasting his only chance. He would take those S-cells, take without asking. He could not bring himself to ask.
As for Sephiroth… Genesis wasn't thinking about how their rendezvous could end for his friend.
Shuffling steps. Genesis switched the screen off. It was undesired for Hollander to find out about his little plan. Hollander entered the room in slow self-confident strides, shot a glance at black monitors. Genesis pretended to be studying the ceiling.
Same simple smile played across his lips.
"Why are you smiling?" Hollander looked extremely satisfied. Redhead knew why: his insane plan moved onto another stage but to be honest Genesis didn't care in the slightest. Scientist was very proud of it but he didn't even deign to listen to his mumblings.
His steps light and graceful Genesis came to stand behind professor; despite the sickness he still knew he was handsome and desirable.
Palms settled on scientist's shoulders, his breath tickled wrinkled skin, and redhead noticed short dark hair rising on Hollander's neck. Professor slightly trembled.
"I had a good day," Genesis cooed.
Scientist never knew how close to death he was at that moment. Genesis' finger clenched slightly; one abrupt movement, and his neck would have broken like a branch of a stunted tree.
But Genesis wasn't so merciful.
Let him think everything was as before. Let him think that the puppet's strings are safely tied to puppeteer's hands, that the following day would bring him closer to accomplishing his insane plan. Let him believe everything was in his power.
Then he would fall harder. Genesis' goal was to push him just a bit further, so that after the fall he would have no strength to rise.
Predatory smile snaked pale lifeless lips. The delight that the thought stirred was indescribable.
Genesis was finally free.
Turning around he headed for the exit. He had to gather strength before the upcoming rendezvous with Sephiroth. When he was out of room Hollander's smug question reached redhead's ears:
"Do you think tomorrow will be a good day as well?"
Genesis laughed at that. And in utter silence his voice rang as chimes of little bells, as a whisper of falling crystal shards…
Genesis was not at fault. His fall ended in the Lifestream that carried him to Nebelheim reactor. Redhead thought it was a fateful choice, so he found an unoccupied manor in the outskirts of the small town. Using Hollander's copying device he replicated Sephiroth's genes just from one drop of blood and cured himself.
From then on he thought he had to get back up. After all he was not a single monster in this world. There were two of them now. And so redhead began searching for a way to take Sephiroth with him.
The only thing he didn't know was that Sephiroth had a weakness, an incurable bleeding wound. His friend doubted his own humanity, and monstrous nature was as a death blow to Sephiroth's willpower and sanity. And if he didn't stop his silver-haired angel from falling redhead would have gone with him as well.
Bitterly smirking to himself Genesis rose to his feet. That was the last shard, now he could walk out of the bathroom and face Sephiroth again…
Until the next time they'd come back…
Until the next time he'd ask himself that question…
Was his heart a void?