MEETINGS

There was a long, drawn-out pause as Sephiroth collected his thoughts. His anger, having flared at the mention of Hojo, was slowly dissipating, replaced with a growing sense of inevitability; he had always suspected himself of being capable of the worst monstrosities, had always known that, eventually, the carefully constructed walls he had built against his own rage would crumble. It had simply never occurred to him that Hojo's forceful meddling could send him spiralling out of control. His one small lapse in concentration and self-control had destroyed Nibelheim and turned him into the most destructive force their planet had ever known.

He slowly unclenched his fist and felt a sudden, warm gush of blood drip from his opened hand. It was a small comfort to feel that warmth; with everything he now knew about himself, blood was a strangely comforting familiarity. He had half expected the green glow of mako to mock him, to seep out of his wounds like so much dark poison. He raised his eyes from his hand to find Zack staring at him nervously, with that slightly worried look still on his face.

Sephiroth grimaced and shook his hand out at his side, splattering the floor with little drops and streaks of blood; the tiny wounds his nails had dug into his flesh were already closing.

Zack's eyes followed his hand before traveling back to his face. "I want to ask you how you're feeling, Seph, but with everything you've just learned, I can't even begin to imagine how you could answer that question."

The former general sighed, taking a moment to drag his uninjured hand through his hair before allowing his fingers to settle over the bridge of his nose. He found it difficult now to meet Zack's gaze. "The file states that it was Strife who stopped me. You knew him, before all this?"

Zack shrugged, and Sephiroth felt the relief radiating from the younger man. Sephiroth couldn't blame him; in the face of all that he had learned, the young cadet's involvement seemed to be an easy topic to discuss.

"Well, you know how it was in those days; the kid got dragged into the ranks for entirely the wrong reasons. I just thought he might appreciate a friendly face, you know? That's how it started anyway; Cloud's personality is a little addictive, I guess." Zack shot him a lopsided grin. "He was just so carefree, it was hard to stay away. Guess he took to me as well, despite the difference in ranks. Why d'you ask?"

Sephiroth shook his head. "You said it yourself, Zachary; he didn't belong in the army. He was ill-suited to the mindset and unused to combat. Care to explain how he managed, apparently without help…" Sephiroth stopped and picked up the file again, rifling through it swiftly. An unpleasant little sneer escaped him as he read. "To throw me into the reactor core at Nibelheim, it seems. And then again, later on, to best me in single combat, twice."

Zack's grin faded as Sephiroth spoke. "How do you know so much about him? I'm pretty sure I only mentioned him in passing."

Sephiroth's heart leapt in his throat for a full second as he realized he'd divulged too much information; in his haste to get away from the subject of Hojo and ShinRa, he'd forgotten how Zack tended to focus on the small details. Damn. You're still an observant little tit, aren't you? Outwardly, he shrugged, keeping his face carefully neutral. "I saw him following you around and checked up on his files since he didn't seem to fit the standard for cadets. I was right, apparently; his instructors had few compliments to write about him."

"A lot's happened to him, man. Don't be an ass about this. Cloud has got a lot more nerve than most people give him credit for and he's strong as hell."

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at his friend. Zack waved his unspoken comment away. "Not just strong, physically. I mean, he is, obviously, otherwise you would've kicked seven kinds of shit out of him. He's just a lot more tenacious than a lot of folks, is all I'm saying."

"… Tenacious?"

"Yeah," Zack countered.

There was another uncomfortable silence, during which Sephiroth kept his eyes trained on the younger man. "You're full of shit, lieutenant."

Zack almost laughed. "Sorry man, that's all I can say; it's all I know from what he's told me. If you want a better answer, you'll have to ask him yourself."

Ask him yourself. Sounds easy enough, Sephiroth thought. "I got the distinct impression that Strife would have preferred to be anywhere but here in the lab, Fair. I don't believe a conversation with him would be pleasant."

Zack shrugged. "Who said any of this would be easy?"

Sephiroth stood angrily and slapped the folder back down on the desk next to Zack, who jumped slightly and had the decency to look sheepish about it. "If all you've told me is true, Zachary, then why on Gaia am I even here? I was already dead and gone, and it seems the world must have been a better place for it," he snarled.

Zack's face was calm, his eyes betraying nothing. "That's another question I can't answer directly, Seph. I'm just along for the ride because Cloud asked for my help."

"You can't possibly be suggesting that this was all his idea."

"Why are you asking me?"

"Fine," he huffed, picking up the folder again. "I'll talk to Strife."

"He's in Hollcomb's office, it's just down the hall," Zack said, suddenly chipper again. The black-haired man jumped off the desk and gingerly slapped Sephiroth's shoulder. "Hey, the old band's getting back together, eh? I'll walk you there."

He followed Zack out, noting with a hint of trepidation that Zack's shoulders and back were rigid with tension, even as he chatted with the nurses and military personnel on the way out into the hallway. Sephiroth dumped the folder unto a nearby steel table as he walked past it.

Cloud awoke from blissfully dreamless sleep to find himself slouched against the smooth mahogany of Hollcomb's desk, his head pillowed against his arms. He blinked his eyes slowly as they adjusted to the gloom; he couldn't remember turning the lights off but the office was lit only from the slight sliver of artificial light that filtered through under the door. The blond raised his head painfully and felt his tendons and muscles scream in protest. He pushed himself up off the desk and raked a hand through his hair sluggishly. He probably hadn't slept for very long, because he still felt exhausted, with the added bonus that his shoulders and back were now raking their own versions of hellish pain across his nerves.

Sighing, he got up and took a few wobbly steps towards the door before freezing completely; as he'd got to his feet he'd felt something brush past him, a dim sense of a presence nearby. Narrowing his eyes, willing himself to see clearly in the dim light, he swiftly surveyed the room. Hollcomb's empty office, furnished with its narrow desk and overflowing shelves, seemed darkly sinister in the gloom. Heart beating erratically, he scanned the darkness nervously once more before turning back to the door with another sigh.

"Looking for something, Cloud?"

The blond's breath caught in his throat, a smooth and tremulous hiss that sounded ridiculously loud in the quiet room. Sephiroth's voice had come from directly behind him and Cloud forced himself to turn around nonchalantly.

"How the hell d'you get in here?"

The silver-haired man shrugged, and the slightest ghost of a smile teased the corner of his mouth. Cloud's heart fluttered and he forced himself to scowl at Sephiroth.

"The door wasn't locked."

Which was in no way an explanation for the fact that the blond hadn't seen him when he'd peered through the gloom or why the man had simply been waiting there in the dark. He shot the taller man a tired, dismissive look, forcing every single bit of impatience he could behind his expression. "Right. Have you spoken with Zack?"

Another nonchalant shrug was his only answer and Sephiroth's smile grew slightly wider, curling and twisting its way treacherously through Cloud's rampant thoughts and straight to his groin. This is… definitely not good. What are you, sixteen? Get a grip on yourself!

"Zack is unimportant."

Cloud froze, cursing the darkness; Sephiroth had moved slightly to his left and into a dim pool of light. The shadows that flowed across his handsome face turned it harsh and threatening, all sharp angles and glowing green. He stared at Cloud now, awaiting a reaction.

"What?"

"Zack doesn't matter. Your little rebel friends don't matter. Reeve certainly doesn't matter and neither does his little neo-company," Sephiroth intoned, walking outside the light to Cloud's left. The blond jumped when he felt a hand brush against his shoulder and then the silver-haired man was standing right behind him.

Sephiroth's hands travelled up both of the blond's arms to rest lightly on his shoulders and Cloud struggled to maintain his facade of detached anger. He tensed, opened his mouth to protest and prepared to whirl around and push the other man back when Sephiroth leaned in and continued, breath rushing out in a soft caress against Cloud's ear.

"But you, Cloud, matter very much."

It was little more than a soft, whispered hiss, barely audible over his wildly beating heart. He was frozen, unable to think, to concentrate, to move, as the silver-haired man chuckled softly behind him. He felt one of Sephiroth's hands leave his shoulder to cup his chin, fingers splaying against his throat, and he closed his eyes, unable now to even breathe.

Another breathless chuckle against his neck forced a shiver through him and he struggled to regain control of the situation before everything went to hell. Sephiroth's presence was devastating; it filled his entire world, forced the air from his lungs and left him reeling and dizzy. He had to get out of here. He twisted his head slightly to jerk it out of the man's grasp but Sephiroth reacted with lightning speed, squeezing his hand around his throat and dragging his chin firmly back into place.

Cloud's heart lurched as his stomach twisted in violent fear. He raised his arms to the hand that was wrapped around his throat and tried to pry the man's fingers off. No sooner had he moved that another shock sent him reeling and he probably would have stumbled to his knees had Sephiroth not been supporting him.

The silver-haired man pulled Cloud's head further to the side and ran a hot, moist tongue up the side of the blond's neck all the way up to his jawline, where he nibbled slightly before withdrawing.

Cloud couldn't have stopped the moan that wormed its way from deep in his throat and past his treacherous lips if his life had depended on it. The man's touches were liquid fire against his flesh and he found himself pressing backwards against the other's taller frame almost involuntarily; he doubted if he could manage to stand on his own without fluttering like a leaf. He couldn't clear his eyes or focus his gaze. Behind him he heard, and felt, as Sephiroth sighed and shook his head.

"Everything I've done, Cloud, has been for you."

Of course that pierced through the thick haze of lust that he was floating in. He struggled to clear his head. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Everything… You wanted to follow me out of Midgar, Cloud, and I took you away. You wanted to be scared of me, you wanted to hate me and so I made myself a great threat to you and everything you loved. I left destroyed creatures and burned memories for you to find and revisit."

Cloud shook his head slightly, disbelieving. He struggled now against Sephiroth, but the man held tight.

"You wanted to be rid of the girl, Cloud, because she complicated things," he continued, voice now turning accusatory. "I took care of that for you, Cloud. You wanted to be left alone, so I made them fear you; I made you a puppet and a tool. You wanted Tifa to stop chasing after you, and I made myself hard to forget."

There was a pause, and Sephiroth's voice was vicious when he spoke next. "You wanted to be alive again, to fight for something again, so I came back for you, Cloud. I've given you everything you've ever wanted… Everything!"

Cloud desperately fought to struggle out of the man's grasp. He was spun furiously around and pushed back roughly until his thighs slammed against the edge of Hollcomb's desk. Meeting Sephiroth's gaze was like a slap to the face; the man's features were angry and sharp, his eyes narrowed and pupils dilated. He held both of Cloud's struggling hands in his own and leaned closer.

"You will give me this in return, Cloud."

And Sephiroth's lips came crashing down against Cloud's in a kiss that buckled his knees. Panic ignited within the blond in a thunderous wave. No, no, no, no, no, NO! Not like this. Never like this! He pushed against the older man, snarling, and struggled to free his trapped hands. Sephiroth pulled back with a smirk; there was a sort of twisted laughter dancing in his eyes, and as Cloud shoved, hard, against Sephiroth's weight, he simply released one of the blond's wrist and back-handed him with the flat of his hand.

Cloud's head flew to the side and he crumpled against the desk, raising a trembling hand to his cheek. He made the mistake of checking for blood, eyes leaving the silver-haired man for slightly less than a second. When he looked up, the edge of Masamune came to rest against his exposed neck and he froze, his right hand instinctively traveling halfway to his hip. It was a pointless reaction; he'd left his sword by the door when he'd entered Hollcomb's office.

"I offered to do this the easy way, Cloud." Sephiroth offered him a small, twisted smile and a shrug. "You're just so damned difficult to please."

Pinned in an awkward crouch, the blade pressing against the tender skin of his neck, Cloud could only glare up at the man. "What the hell have you done with Zack? He would never have let you out of that lab. Not like this."

Sephiroth met his glare coldly. A slight frown creased his forehead and he sneered at the blond. "You're not concentrating, Cloud. I said before, Zack is unimportant. What I'm here for…" He paused, and a twisted smile was the only warning the blond got before Sephiroth's sword arm swung sideways and back to drive the blade deep into Cloud's shoulder.

His scream was cut short as Sephiroth closed the distance between them and slapped his free hand against the blond's mouth, using his weight as leverage to drive the blade through Cloud's flesh and between two of his ribs. When the blade had penetrated through to the wood, Sephiroth gave it a last push until its tip was several inches deep into Hollcomb's desk, effectively pinning the blond in place.

His hand left Cloud's mouth and the blond looked up in panic at Sephiroth's face as the other leaned towards him, smirking.

"What I'm here for, Cloud…" Sephiroth repeated before dipping his head into the hollow of Cloud's neck, trailing a path of feather-light bites down to his collarbone.

Cloud's eyes were unfocused and staring, and his breath came in large ragged gasps. The blade in his shoulder was agony, and each intake of breath sent a fresh wave of pain and nausea coursing through him. He felt Sephiroth's teeth on his neck sharply, felt the weight of the man press down on him as he leaned forward, felt a hand travel down to his shirt and push the material out of the way.

Felt the silver-haired man's breath against his flesh as the words were breathed out just under his earlobe.

"… Is you, of course."

The man's touches sent waves of fire raging against his skin and Cloud bit back a sob of despair at how utterly fucked up he was. He could no more fight the man than fight his own heart, his own lust. Every touch, every brush of Sephiroth's fingers against his skin pierced through the searing pain of the blade and the throbbing in his jaw. A small part of him wanted to fight, wanted to pull the blade out of his flesh and tear this man to shreds, but it was drowned out by the rushing noise of his heart thrumming in his ears.

He forced his mouth open, willing himself to react, to fight back, to scream, to do something to stop this madness.

There was really nothing he could have said to prevent what was happening, but he was given no chance to speak out. Sephiroth's grinning face was only a few inches away and then those smirking lips were pressed against his own again, nibbling and teasing and unstoppable.

When he felt a strong hand reach down and snake its way into his pants to grip him in one long, languid stroke, Cloud threw his head back and moaned.

Amidst the swirling green of Sephiroth's eyes, he surrendered.

The hallways were no different in this side of the wing and Sephiroth felt a slight sneer tug at his lips; in the design and architecture of this place he could recognize ShinRa's trademark efficiency although he could now correctly attribute it to Reeve's Neo-ShinRa corporation. The halls were bare, devoid of any decoration or personality and following Zack through the labyrinthine passages was like a trip back through time for him; the nurses and technicians they encountered did little to clear his already tumultuous thoughts. Turning a corner and coming face to face with a ShinRa scientist had never been easy on his nerves and the actual label on the uniforms felt now like a useless detail.

Here, it seemed, he was surrounded by scientists, weaving through small groups of technicians engaged in whatever task they were currently assigned to. Several people had been busily disassembling a rather intricate piece of machinery in the great hall they had first encountered upon leaving the office. As they walked past the big double doors and into another identical corridor, Sephiroth forced his thoughts back to the matter at hand; if everything he'd just learned was true, then a conversation with Cloud, even under his second in command's supervision, seemed like an unbelievably bad idea to him.

But Zack was making his way purposefully forward, sending half-smiles and nods to people he recognized, driving them both towards an unseen goal with an air of confidence and an easy grace. If Sephiroth had not known him as well as he did, he might have been reassured; but Zack was tense, the set of his jaw strange and hard, his shoulders rigid, his entire demeanour twitchy and nervous to Sephiroth's trained eye.

The short walk had taken little more than a few minutes, but it had given him plenty of time to think; there were too many unanswered questions still tumbling angrily through his thoughts, none of which he suspected he would get an answer to today, if Zack's behaviour was any indication. When the lieutenant stopped in front of an unmarked door, Sephiroth held back a few paces behind him, waiting for his cue.

Zack turned and shot him a grin and a 'thumbs up' before knocking sharply twice on the dark oak wood of the door. Then, surprisingly, he turned again and slapped a hand against Sephiroth's shoulder, pushing him forward slightly. Sephiroth shot the man a questioning glance, but the other simply shrugged.

"I told you, Seph, if you want any more answers, you'll have to ask Cloud. I'm not about to babysit you two and besides, I gotta go back up to check on Reeve and the rest of the kids."

A sudden surge of panic flamed within Sephiroth's chest but he quelled it, settling instead for an angry glare which earned him nothing more than a soft chuckle and another pat on the back. He frowned, watching Zack saunter off back down the corridor. He turned back towards the door, a grim expression set firmly on his face. Bad idea… Definitely one of Zack's stupidest plans, and that's saying a lot.

Shaking his head slightly, he reached a hand up to repeat the knock. He needn't have bothered; as he raised his hand the door opened inwards in one quick motion and he struggled for words as he studied the face of the one man who had ever managed to defeat him.

Cloud stood in the darkened doorway, his blue eyes dark and angry. Nothing in the young man Sephiroth saw there could possibly be related to the cadet he remembered. This Cloud was older, harder and infinitely stranger to him than he would comfortably admit. Whatever hardships he had endured had definitely changed him; he was taller as well, although not quite as tall as Zack and certainly still shorter than him.

For a second, as Sephiroth studied the man, he saw a strange, unreadable expression flicker across the blond's face briefly; it seemed to flutter by as fast as a heartbeat but settled for a few seconds more in the blue eyes before being smothered by the angry glare. Fear. And something else, but definitely fear. Sephiroth almost sneered at his own stupidity; of course the boy—young man now—would fear him, after everything he had put him through.

"Sephiroth." The blond's voice was cold, so very angry and cold that Sephiroth almost turned back to follow Zack out of this damnable lab.

"Strife," he answered, feeling his own voice grow cold as well. But of course your ego won't let that slide. How hard would it have been to use the boy's actual first name, you idiot?

"I suppose Zack told you what happened these past few years?" As Cloud spoke, he kept his eyes trained on the wall behind Sephiroth, glancing only briefly at him, possibly still too angry to acknowledge his presence. The filtered, second hand light in the hallway danced its shadows across the blond's face and Sephiroth stood in helpless bewilderment, wondering how the world could have changed so much around him. He nodded, feeling strangely conscious now of his bare chest and missing the comforting presence of Masamune at his side. Not that being armed would help much, in this particular case.

"He has." There was long, drawn out pause, and Sephiroth truly considered backing away from this strange ghost; Cloud's face was haunted and drawn and exhaustion as well as anger danced across his features. The blond finally gave a heavy sigh and stepped aside to allow him inside the room.

As Sephiroth stepped forward he noticed that the blond kept his back to the wall and turned to follow him, his blue eyes now not leaving him, his posture tense. This room was also bare and undecorated, although it had clearly seen more action than the office he had previously occupied with Zack; it was littered with books and files of all sorts and a jumbled mess on the desk indicated it had been used recently by someone whose idea of efficiency differed greatly from his own.

Cloud's voice broke through Sephiroth's thoughts and contemplation, accompanied by the sharp sound of the door closing shut behind him. "I guess you have questions," the blond stated.

Sephiroth fought a snort and a laugh, nodding his head once. "Questions… I have a few, you might say."

Cloud woke up to the sound of knocking and almost stumbled out of his chair in panic. The dim contours of Hollcomb's office slowly became clear to his confused eyes and he got up quickly, walking to the door automatically before terror seized him again.

The details of the dream floated back to him in a blur and he gave a strangled moan, reaching a hand against the desk to steady himself. He felt dizzy, the room spinning slightly around him, a sort of hushed buzzing in his ears. His face felt flushed and hot, his heart rate quickly escalating as the memory of the imagined encounter replayed itself in his mind.

The images floated past his closed eyelids as he stood there swaying, fighting both a rising blush and a bout of intense nausea; the idea that he had surrendered again, the fact that he had barely fought the silver-haired man, made the bile rise up in the back of his throat. And yet the images would not leave him, taunting him, mocking him.

Cloud's breath left him in a dangerously wavering laugh, his thoughts grim and angry. Let's face it, this is all depraved and so very, very wrong. How many times am I supposed to live through those false memories again? None of that happened! I know how it went; I survived him! The panic receded slightly and he repeated the words in his head for a few seconds. I survived him… We all did.

He knew he could fight the man if he had to—he had done it before—yet every dream, not matter how violent or twisted, ended the same way: in complete, utter and above all impossible surrender.

And now he needed restful sleep, could not afford to linger on like this much longer; he could recognize the early warning signs, his body on the verge of exhaustion, his thoughts a jumbled mess. If he didn't stop this madness soon, he would surely collapse and that was a thought worse than any dream he could conjure up. With Sephiroth here, alive and so close, he could not afford to falter.

Voices came to him from beyond the door, Zack's smooth tones and a parting laugh that gave him strength. Before he could change his mind, he forced his feet to take him forward, took several deep breaths and opened the door wide.

The swirling green of Sephiroth's eyes assaulted him almost immediately; the man had been standing right outside, and was poised with a hand outstretched as if to knock again. As Cloud felt his heart race beyond his control, Sephiroth lowered his hand gracefully, his green eyes locking on to him, holding him in place. Cloud's chest constricted painfully and terror ignited in his chest; he could not, would not meet that gaze. This was the confrontation he had tried to avoid, the conversation he had forced Zack to have in his stead.

He closed his eyes briefly. I can do this… I can do this, I've done it before. It's just one damned conversation. With his eyes closed he could almost imagine he was alone, the silver-haired man nothing more than a difficult memory. But the darkness brought forth memories of its own; images of Nibelheim and blood and pain assaulted him instantly so he forced his eyes open again.

Reality was not much kinder. Sephiroth's eyes were studying him curiously, raking over his features, searching his face. He forced the fear and the pain down, felt the old walls coming back up; but they were crumbling, so weak and so very close to utter destruction. It'll have to do. Just let me fight my way through this one conversation. And then I'll sleep. I'll have to…

His thoughts a jumbled, incoherent mess, he was almost surprised to hear his voice so steady as he asked the silver-haired man if he had questions. Moving aside to let the other in had taken all of his willpower and he turned to follow the man's movements. Part of him wanted to flee, to run as fast and as far away from this place, this man, as it could. Another part screamed and blindly wanted to destroy him. And another observed, with a stammering heart and in breathless wonder, the grace of the General's movements as he turned and surveyed the room.

Cloud had never seen Sephiroth from this close, only glanced from afar, stolen looks in the barracks and training halls. Even without his impressive armour the man commanded attention, exuded grace and a lethal power that Cloud knew he could never, not even now, match. In the dim light the man's features were both breathtaking and strange, the smooth skin of his bare shoulders and chest unmarred and perfect, his fine silver hair draping down his back and swaying slightly with every graceful step.

A slight laugh shook Sephiroth suddenly and Cloud realized with a start he was laughing at his own question, his inquiry about whether the man had questions of his own. He almost blushed, fought his body and his own stupidity. Idiot blond… Of course he has questions, that's why he's here. Wake up!

He forced himself to nod and walked forward to sit on the edge of the desk, shooting Sephiroth a look he hoped would pass for impatience. The other man regarded him calmly, still with that same calculating expression on his features, for a few seconds. And then a look of pure confusion passed across the General's face and he shook his head slowly before sinking down heavily into a chair right next to Cloud, who could only stare in open-mouthed amazement.

The man now seemed almost as exhausted as he himself felt. It was only another reminder that this Sephiroth was different from the one he'd known and fought before and still the man's reaction to everything he had learned could only be described as stoic. Cloud found he had a hard time taking it in stride, his addled mind trying to superimpose the image of the bloodthirsty murderer he knew and the man sitting slumped in the chair beside him. The images clashed terribly; Sephiroth's face, although still somewhat composed, held the hint of a distraught self-hatred and helplessness that sent the blond's emotions reeling.

As the silver-haired man slunk into the chair he reached a hand up to his face and pressed it heavily against his forehead and Cloud knew, in that moment, that the revelations had shaken him greatly; he had never seen, in all of his cadet days, the General as anything but utterly composed and graceful.

Facing this version of the man was somehow even harder than facing him as a maddened murderer in combat. Images from the files he'd reviewed too many times to count flashed before his eyes—a screaming child in helpless agony—and Cloud felt his body shudder almost imperceptibly.

When Sephiroth finally lifted his head to meet his gaze, Cloud shrank back, unable to keep his posture steady, unable to trust his voice to speak. You're a fool. A fool to think you could chicken out of this; you brought him here, and it's your responsibility to ensure that whatever happened before doesn't happen again. And though the thought was difficult to accept and even more difficult to act upon, Cloud nodded slightly at the other man, urging him to speak his mind.

"You stopped me." It was more of a statement than anything else, but Cloud nodded again anyway. Sephiroth's eyes went back to his hands for a few seconds and he flexed his fingers into fists lightly a few times, deep in thought.

"How?"

Cloud started visibly, unsure what to answer. "Wha—What do you mean?"

"How did you stop me, Strife, that first time in Nibelheim? You were only a trooper then and if I understood Zack correctly, even he couldn't hold his own against me for very long in that reactor core. So tell me, how could a trooper barely out of his teens manage to do what a Soldier First Class could not?" Sephiroth's voice grew as he talked, slowly regaining some of his old composure. His eyes were now burning into Cloud and the blond shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't know. When I entered the core room you were distracted… I… I suppose I got in a lucky shot."

A slim silver brow rose elegantly and Cloud forced himself not to look away. "You threw me into the core itself, Strife; I'd hardly call that a single lucky shot."

Mind racing, Cloud could only shrug slightly, feigning indifference. His heart felt now like it was ready to burst out of his chest; he could not, would not, talk of his own desperation that day, of being ready to die to get back what had been stolen from him. There was no way he could explain how he'd reached through the pain of Masamune embedded in his chest and wrestled himself from the brink of insanity only to be drawn back in as swiftly as Hojo could get his claws into him.

He could especially not explain it to this man.

But he could tell that the General wasn't buying it; Sephiroth's eyes were still trained on him, that calculating gaze pinning him in place as surely as Masamune ever could. Now though, Cloud could see beyond his own fears and doubts; as he forced himself to meet that gaze he thought he could recognize a mirror of his own memories of pain shimmering there, in the green.

And then Sephiroth asked the one question he couldn't give the man an answer to.

"Why, Strife? Why would you even entertain the idea of bringing me back, after everything I've done?"

Author's notes:

Breaking my own rules here for several reasons. Here's a list!

1) Thanks to everyone who stuck with me and sent me little nudges to remind me not to forget this; it was all very appreciated. Thanks also to those of you still reading and reviewing. Great big thank you to Wintersheart for helping with some pretty dang awful paragraphs and run-on sentences in this one. Much love to her! xx

2) ... Am extremely sorry about awful and long and totally uncalled-for hiatus. I promise it will not happen again.

3) ... Ggggh. Also sorry about extreme amounts of unending and going-around-in-circles dialog. There's lots that needs to be said before things start to move forward again and even more before conflict *oh, yeah, conflict* can rear its ugly, mutated head *damn, too many hints there...* Please bear with the plot exposition and obligatory "Waaaa? I did what while I was sleeping?" bullshit until then.

4) This is the longest chapter yet!

5) Merry Christmas or Non-Denominational Holiday to all of you! ;)