It's been a long time...

Thank you so much for the faves and reviews. I'll finish this eventually. If you're still following this story, thank you for your patience.

One Step at a Time

"Reno."

"Who -?"

"You know who. Why do you fight it?"

"Sephiroth?"

"No. You can't hide behind that anymore. His memories are mine, not the other way around. I want you."

"No. I killed you once. They'll kill you, and then –"

"Then? You'll never forget me. You want me, but you want to pretend that you don't. You love me."

"No! I hate –"

"How much?'

"With - everything I have!"

"So much passion! Hate me then. Try to kill me again, if you can. Perhaps this time you'll be fast enough –"

Reno flung himself on his enemy, finding that he had no weapon but his own body; fists and teeth and nails – and he was using every trick he knew – moves that would kill ordinary men – but Yazoo was too strong, too quick and the fight became a dance, settling into familiar rhythms: jab, block, hook, cross – this was like the first time, back in Edge, and the adrenaline rush that came with every good fight was filling him with a rage that tipped into euphoria, more potent than any drug.

"Come on, Turk!" Yazoo mocked, smiling. "Is that really the best you can do?"

Reno growled and charged Yazoo again, but this time as his nails raked smooth flesh, bites became fierce kisses and his breath caught on moans as their bodies slammed against each other – "No!" Reno gasped.

"You want me," Yazoo insisted. "You'll always want me."

"No! I won't – I -"

"Honey? Are you okay?"

Reno opened his eyes, the room spinning. He didn't recognise the garish flower-print wallpaper, or the pretty wide-eyed young woman who stood beside the bed wearing a pink robe, leaning over him, concerned. "It's okay," she said, as his erratic breathing calmed. "You were having a bad dream. Shouting stuff…"

"What? I… Who are you? Did we…?"

"No, Honey. I'm Charisse. I brought your friend Rude home, but you were out for the count, and he didn't wanna leave you nowhere in that state, so we put you in the spare room. You shouldn't drink so much – someone as skinny as you."

Reno blinked. The neon pinks and greens in the wallpaper intensified the ache behind his eyes. "No – you're probably right. Where's Rude?"

"Sleeping like a baby. You want breakfast?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

When Charisse had gone, shutting the door quietly behind her, Reno closed his eyes with a groan. Tseng had warned him about nightmares, but that dream hadn't been what he was expecting, and he was ashamed at the arousal he still felt remembering the images of Yazoo in his head.

x

"He's not here," Loz complained, his eyes scanning the familiar, ghost-pale trees and the silvery pools of the Forgotten City. "When he wasn't at the cave, I was sure he would be here by now."

Yazoo wandered to the edge of the largest pool and stared down into the water, remembering Kadaj and the darkness that had flowed from him as he brought the children Mother's gift last time, when their purpose had been clear. He looked back at Loz over his shoulder. "I told you – he's not coming back. We should go now."

Loz watched him warily, keeping his distance. "What if he does come?"

"He's not coming." Yazoo looked up at Loz, no anger in his tone despite the irritation he felt at Loz's constant insistence that Kadaj would return to them. "I'm sorry Loz. He's not coming. But they'll be sending people after us. We're lucky they didn't catch up with us at the cave. We need to go."

"We can kill anyone they send."

"Not anyone. Not Cloud. Not the one in the red cloak who took the Turks from us before. We couldn't kill them last time, and we're weaker now." Yazoo went to Loz and put a hand on his arm, ignoring the way Loz flinched from his touch. "I know. I know you're confused about why I did what I did – why I didn't act according to Mother's wishes when we were here last time. Sephiroth was confused too, a lot of the time. Mother wanted him to hate humanity, but he was part human. The other mother –"

"The other mother was nothing but a vessel."

"No. Not only. And there was a father. Sephiroth was more human child than Mother's child, at the start. It's only that her cells are stronger. Were stronger. But now… I don't think there will be another Reunion."

"Then… the Turk was right. We don't have any reason to be here." Loz looked at Yazoo with such despair in his eyes that Yazoo wrapped his arms around his brother and held him close. "We were only Mother's remnants before," Loz said, too resigned even for tears, "But – but now we're remnants of remnants. Almost nothing."

Yazoo stroked Loz's hair. "Yes," he said, "almost nothing. But not nothing."

Loz leaned his head on Yazoo's shoulder, taking comfort in the arms of the one he'd always been closest to. Then he kissed Yazoo once, softly, and sighed, drawing one of Tseng's guns and setting the muzzle against his brother's temple. "We should go now," he said. "If Kadaj has gone already, and Mother, and Sephiroth, then we should join them. Both of us, together. Then it won't matter what you did. We'll all be together again, like we were meant to be from the start."

Yazoo froze for an instant, then pushed the gun away, very gently. "No, Loz. We have another choice. We're changing. You saw what happened with the materia. You're changing more slowly, but you are changing. We can stay here. We can learn to be like them, and in time –"

"No!" Loz shouted, letting go of Yazoo and clamping both hands over his ears, still holding the gun precariously. "Stop it! Stop talking! You said you'd find out why we came back, and you haven't! You said you'd keep me safe, but you claim you betrayed us! Now you want me to become like them – like him – that Turk. It was only supposed to be a game. You were playing with him – that's all. But it's all messed up now. It's all gone wrong, and I don't – I don't like it – I don't know what to do! We have to go back – we have to find Mother. I want Mother!" Loz pointed the gun at Yazoo again, anguish on his handsome, innocent face. "I want to go home!"

Desperately Yazoo tried to think of some argument that might convince Loz to change his mind. "Please –" he began, but his words were cut off by the unmistakable and familiar sound of an approaching motorbike. Loz looked back through the trees searching for the source of the noise, and Yazoo grabbed his wrist to prevent him using the gun, begging, "Loz, please! Please don't let Cloud kill me. I can't fight him – we have to get away. If you love me, please help me."

Loz looked into his brother's beautiful eyes and saw that he was terrified. He dropped the gun and gathered Yazoo back into his arms, kissing his forehead. "Don't be frightened," he said, softly, suddenly completely calm. "I will never let any of them hurt you."

Yazoo looked up at him and for the first time since Yazoo had started playing with the Turk, Loz felt certain that his brother loved him. "Thank you," Yazoo said, smiling. "You always look after me. Now - we have to run. If we can get to Edge –"

"Not Edge." The roar of the motorcycle engine ceased. Loz turned his head and saw Cloud approaching on foot, his sword drawn and his jaw set. Beyond him something red moved through the trees.

"Somewhere else then, for now," Yazoo said urgently. "Anywhere but here! Loz –"

"Don't fight," Loz said. "I won't let anything hurt you. We'll go home, together."

"What do you mean? We have to get away! We need to leave, now!"

"I love you," Loz said, and suddenly his embrace was too hard, crushing Yazoo against him, constricting, tightening.

"Loz, stop it!" Yazoo protested, beginning, too late, to struggle. "What are you doing? I can't – I can't breath –"

"I love you," Loz said again, dragging Yazoo with him into the pool. "I'm sorry. This is the only way to save you from him – to save you from yourself. It won't hurt. All you have to do is let go." Around Loz the pool was changing, the clear water becoming black, and suddenly sparks of green light were dancing in the air – coming for Loz or from him, Yazoo couldn't tell. He gasped, his eyes wide with horror as Loz began to disintegrate into the air, into the water.

"No!" Yazoo screamed, as he felt his own body merging into his brother's, dissolving, scattering. He tried to cry out again, but his voice was fading like his body, and the sound was little more than a whisper when, with the last of the air in his lungs, he breathed, "Reno! Reno!"

x

"She has a sister," Rude said, as he and Reno made their way back to Reno's apartment. Reno laughed. "Can she cook, too? That was a fucking fantastic breakfast. Lunch. Whatever."

"Don't know," Rude replied. "I'll let you know when I meet her next weekend."

"Whoa!" Reno cried. "Meeting family already? Hope I'm gonna be your best man."

"You think I'd trust you with the speech?"

"I can be tactful. Give the right compliments. Praise the bride's extraordinarily large – breakfasts."

"Yeah," Rude nodded. "That's why not."

"Seriously?"

"Tseng would be so much classier."

"Pft. Who wants class when you can have –"

Rude's ringtone interrupted them. "Talk of the devil," Rude said, when he saw Tseng's number. Reno watched carefully as Rude listened to Tseng, but his expression was hard to read. He was surprised by what he was hearing, that much was clear, but whether it was good or bad news, Reno couldn't tell.

When the call was over, Rude put the phone back into his pocket and said, "That was Tseng."

Something in his tone made Reno's heart lurch. "What's up?"

"Reeve just reported that the remnant problem has been dealt with."

Reno tried to focus on Rude, but he felt weirdly light-headed and dizzy, as though his hangover had returned full force. "So soon?" he asked.

"Yeah. Apparently Cloud and Vincent Valentine tracked them to the Northern Cave, and, from there, to the Forgotten City. They sure covered a lot of ground in two days."

"They can," Reno said. "Could."

"Tseng will give you the details on Tuesday, when you go back in."

"Right. But - they're definitely dead?"

"Yes. If they were ever alive."

"Yeah. And Yazoo? I mean - they're both dead?"

"Yes. Don't worry. It's over."

"Yeah. Yeah. Well that's –"

"Must be a relief."

"A relief. Yeah. Rude – thanks – you know, for not leaving me last night when I was out of it, yeah? And, sorry – cramping your style with Char. She's nice. You get home, okay? I'm just gonna sleep some more. That was one hell of a hangover, man."

Rude looked at Reno carefully. "You okay?"

Reno knew there was no point lying – Rude was one of the few people who could read him every time. "Not great. Will be. Seriously – I'll be fine. Just – some stuff to think about, yeah? I mean, I knew it was over, but now - it's really over."

Rude nodded, but made no move to leave.

"Go! I'll be okay. It's only that – I always finish the job, yeah? You know that. We always finish the job – and now –"

"This one wasn't your job, Reno. Let it go."

"You're right. I know."

Rude checked his watch. "Get some sleep. I'll be back at yours at six. We're going out again tonight. Elena, too."

Reno forced himself to sound cheerful. "Ha! Knew she missed me. Okay – see you at six."

Although Rude didn't look back, Reno could tell that his partner was reluctant to leave him on his own.

Locking the door of his apartment behind him, Reno leaned against it and breathed out, closing his eyes. "Over," he said aloud. "Bastard's dead. Good fucking riddance." There was a strange hollow feeling in his chest, and an ache behind his eyes that had nothing to do with the hangover, but he blinked hard and pushed off the door angrily, going to the kitchen to make coffee, pacing the living room, switching the TV on and off again, perching on the arm of the couch to roll a cigarette, stalking out onto the balcony to smoke it.

"Fuck this." Stubbing out the cigarette on the polished steel of the balcony railing, Reno went back inside, rummaging in cupboards until he found a bottle of whiskey left over from some poker night back when everything was normal. Leaning on the kitchen counter, he raised the bottle in a salute. "Cloud – Vincent – cheers!" he said, drinking deep. It wasn't good whiskey, but he told himself that the burn at the back of his throat was what he wanted. Now he could get properly wasted and celebrate his freedom from the remnants. From Yazoo.

"That's what this is," he muttered, swallowing more of the terrible whiskey – "Goddamn celebration. It's over. He's dead. Gone." Fury surged through him and he hurled the bottle against the opposite wall. By some fluke it bounced instead of smashing and landed near his feet, barely a drop spilled. A harsh laugh burst out of him. "Can't get rid…" He picked up the bottle and sat on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, his back against the counter, and drank the rest of the whiskey in one go. "Gone," he said, tossing the bottle aside. This time it broke into two pieces with an unsatisfying flat crack. "Gone. Should be happy. Why ain't I fuckin' happy?"

x

Yazoo opened his eyes to nothing but blank, bright whiteness. His body seemed suspended but he had no sense of direction or gravity. He felt no pain – no physical sensation at all – and although he knew that he wasn't breathing there was no feeling of suffocation or panic, only consciousness, and a distant, pervasive sense of loss.

"Yazoo – let go. Come back to us." Not Loz's unhappy plea, nor Kadaj's petulant demand, but a voice full of cold authority.

"Sephiroth?"

"You were never meant to go back."

"So – why…?"

"An accident. Shed those borrowed human cells, and return to us."

"No. It wasn't an accident. Part of you wanted to go back – to find him again."

In his mind Yazoo heard Sephiroth's laughter and was unmoved by it.

"If you return you can take nothing of us with you." There was a note of mocking sorrow in Sephiroth's voice, but Yazoo remained resolved.

"I know."

"You will throw your life away for nothing. He will always hate you. If you find him, he'll kill you. You'll be as weak as they are, and he's strong, for one of their kind. You'll die alone, as one of them - and the Lifestream annihilates them."

"I'd rather risk oblivion than never try."

"Then you're no better than them – weak and stupid."

"You yearned to feel the same as them – to belong with them."

"The mako purged me of that folly. I returned to Mother and my true destiny."

"But where did my rebellion come from, if not from you?"

"Perhaps it was a taint – an echo of my human weakness. You must chose, now, and irrevocably. Leave all that may have been infected by humanity behind, and return to us, purged – or take what is human, and lose everything else."

Sorrow and fear filled Yazoo. "Is Loz with Kadaj now?" he asked.

Sephiroth's voice changed; became four voices, one of which Yazoo had never heard, but somehow recognised instantly. Although her voice was very faint – almost a whisper – her gentle tone made his heart ache. "We are all together. We are one, always. Come back to us: brother – lover – son."

"Mother!"

All the voices replied, speaking together. Sometimes Yazoo recognised Kadaj's voice, sometimes Sephiroth's, and under both the whisper of the mother he had never known - but it was Loz's misery that called to him most powerfully. "Come home, Yazoo. If you leave us, you will die. You will be nothing but a memory. The human will never love you. We love you. Play with us. Don't leave us. Come back to us!"

"No!" In Yazoo's mind the word was a cry that silenced the other voices, although his body remained motionless and his lips never moved. "I'm not a part of you any more. Let me go. Let me go!"

Yazoo opened his eyes, although he'd thought they were already open, and found himself falling – sinking –

Yazoo gasped and choked on icy water. Coughing and shuddering in the biting cold, he struggled to his feet and discovered that he was naked, waist-deep in the forest pool, a remote, bright moon shining down upon him. For some time he stood still, aching with new feelings of pain, acutely aware of the pressure, the cold and the wet of the water surrounding him as he fought to drag breath into his burning lungs. Every part of him experienced sensation in a way he had never felt as a remnant – his nerves seemed aflame. How did humans live like this? How was existence possible so intimately connected with the physical world? Yazoo understood that his human body wouldn't survive for long in water this cold, but movement seemed impossible; it was enough of a feat simply to stand still and breath.

But movement was necessary to survival. With all the strength he could muster, Yazoo forced himself to wade towards the bank, pain lancing through his bare feet as he stumbled over sharp rocks. At last he reached the grassy bank and crawled out of the water. He lay still for a long time, breathing, breathing. Every inhalation and exhalation caused a roaring in his ears. The pounding of his heart was a relentless drumbeat. So strange, to be human! How had Reno ever survived the snowfields? The humans' physical frailties forced them to endure in ways Yazoo had never considered.

Thoughts of Reno made Yazoo remember his immediate situation. He staggered to his feet, looking around, frightened, but there was no sign of Cloud or the red-cloaked gunman who had been pursuing them. Loz was gone, Yazoo was certain of that. The voices he had heard had not been hallucinations caused by almost drowning; Loz had gone home, and Yazoo was alone. Yazoo looked at his hands in the moonlight. Already breathing and moving were becoming easier – more natural. "I'm human!" he exclaimed, and his voice sounded very small, lost in the vastness of the ancient forest.

x

Only the fact that the bottle of whiskey had been all the alcohol in the apartment kept Reno from drinking himself into oblivion. He checked his watch and discovered that he still had three long hours to fill before Rude and Elena were due to call for him. His mind wouldn't stop creating images of the remnants' last moments - or rather, Yazoo's last moments. How had he died? Had he been fighting or running? Had he been killed by Cloud's sword, or Valentine's bullets? With a sick feeling in his stomach, Reno remembered the report he'd read after Zack Fair's death. His body had dissolved into the Lifestream, but the numbers of soldiers killed and the list of ammunition expended had told their own grizzly tale. Reno knew first hand how difficult Yazoo must have been to kill. He wasn't human, but he could feel pain. How long had it taken?

What the hell do I care? Reno wondered, picking himself up from the kitchen floor and pacing again. I don't care. Fuck – I hope it hurt. I hope he suffered. He deserved… But it shouldn't have been Cloud, or Valentine. That's the only reason it bothers me – because it should've been me. Nothing else. I hope they fucking cut him to pieces –

But Reno's mind shied away from that image. He'd seen enough people die in his time – he'd killed plenty of them himself – but he couldn't bring himself to imagine Yazoo wounded, that perfect beauty destroyed. "The fuck is wrong with me?" Reno shouted aloud. "Get out of my fucking head!"

Tseng had ordered him to take time off until Tuesday, but he knew he'd never be able to get these stupid thoughts of Yazoo's death out of his mind until he knew what had happened in the forest. At least if he saw the report he'd know the worst – the facts, he told himself angrily. Not the worst – the facts.

Reno went to get changed into his uniform, feeling a little more normal once he was dressed. Then he picked up his phone and his New Shinra card key, and left the apartment in search of answers he was half afraid to learn.

Tseng looked up as Reno strode into the office, masking his concern beneath an assumed expression of irritation. "I thought I said I didn't want to see you until Tuesday."

"Yeah, I know. But I need – I want to see the report. Strife's – Valentine's – whoever. I want to know how it happened."

Tseng hesitated, but finally sighed and nodded. "All right. If it will help."

"It will."

Tseng turned back to his laptop, and Reno heard the hum of the printer. Tseng retrieved a sheet of paper from the machine and handed it to Reno.

"Thanks – I – I'll be in my office." Reno couldn't bring himself to read the report in front of an audience – even one as understanding of the situation as Tseng.

Alone at his desk, Reno scanned the report. Valentine had written it. It was very short. It made no sense to Reno. He read it again, jumped to his feet and went back to Tseng's office, flinging open the door without knocking. "What the hell is this?"

Tseng closed his laptop slowly. "It's Vincent Valentine's report on the deaths of the remnants Loz and Yazoo."

"But – it says – they didn't kill them? Loz killed them? Without a fight? That's bullshit! It can't be true! Why would he do that? He loved – I mean – Yazoo was all he cared about. He'd never hurt him. I don't believe it."

"Why would Valentine lie?"

"I don't know." Reno stared at Tseng. "I don't get it. What – Why would Loz -?"

"I can't tell you that. But you said yourself that they didn't know why they'd been sent back. Perhaps they concluded that it was a 'glitch', as you put it. Although it seems that Yazoo was reluctant to die – at least at the end. Perhaps it was a kind of suicide pact, but Yazoo changed his mind at the last moment?"

"No," said Reno instantly. "He'd never agree to that. He wouldn't leave without –"

"Without?"

"I need to see Valentine."

"Without what?" Tseng persisted. "Without you?"

Reno was silent, eyes on the floor.

"How does that make you feel?" Tseng asked.

Reno's head jerked up then, his eyes flashing. "Fuck, Tseng! Don't come that shrink crap. I don't know, okay? I hate him, but – but he's in my head. That thing he did – that power… What if it builds up until it gets inside you even when he's not there?"

"He's dead, Reno."

"But – what if it's a – an infection? Like geostigma?"

Tseng shook his head. "All the tests we ran on you came back normal. If he's in your head, I'd say it was psychological trauma. I can get an expert to see you –"

"No! No way. I'm okay. I just need to talk to Valentine. Once I know exactly what happened I'll be able to forget about it. Do you have a number for him?"

Reno could see the doubt in Tseng's eyes. "Boss – it's me. I ain't crazy. You always said I could never keep my nose out of anything. I just – I have to know, yeah? I'll be fine once I know."

Tseng wrote a number on a leaf from a notepad and handed it to Reno.

"Thanks," Reno said, already turning away.

Tseng watched him leave, his expression grim. He flipped open his PHS and his thumb hovered over Rufus' number for long seconds before he settled on calling Rude.

x

Vincent Valentine still wore his outlandish costume, Reno noted, but the sight didn't amuse him as it might once have done. He knew how deadly the gunman could be. Despite his flamboyant appearance however, Vincent was all business as he showed Reno into a small, shady office on the fifty-second floor of the WRO headquarters.

"How can I help you?" Vincent didn't smile, but his expression wasn't hostile either.

"I read the report," Reno explained. "I just want to know what happened – exactly. Why would Loz kill Yazoo?"

"I don't know. When we approached they were standing at the edge of the pool, and it looked as though they were embracing. Then Loz pulled Yazoo into the water, and it became apparent that Yazoo was struggling, but by that time they were already disintegrating. It seemed unnecessary for us to attack."

"What do you mean, disintegrating?" Reno asked.

"Disolving – into the water and the air."

"Oh – yeah. I saw Kadaj do that once at Healen. He came right through the door – through the cracks in the frame – like smoke. But he reformed on the other side."

"This was different. Cloud said he'd seen it before - Kadaj did the same after Cloud defeated Sephiroth. Lifestream energy, green, glowing like sparks, and then nothing. It was quick – a few seconds. There was nothing left of either of them. We waited for an hour, but they had vanished. Cloud said that when it happened to Kadaj, it was peaceful."

"But it wasn't peaceful for Yazoo. He didn't want to go," Reno said.

"No. I think he was frightened. And there's something I left out of the report that I think you should know. Cloud had circled around to get behind them in case we needed to fight, so he didn't hear or see it, but I think that Yazoo said your name twice, before he vanished."

"My name?"

"Yes. It was too quiet for me to hear, but I saw his lips moving. He said 'Reno', twice."

"My name? You're sure?"

"Almost certain."

"But not certain enough to put it in the report."

"Not one hundred percent certain, no. Is it likely?"

"Yeah," said Reno, unable to give a name to the emotion that assailed him. "Yeah, it's likely. He was crazy. Had some kind of obsession – But it don't matter. They're dead now. They were never even alive, really, were they?"

Vincent gave Reno a cool smile. "I suppose there are degrees of that," he said.

"Shit, man, sorry! I didn't mean – I was forgetting." Reno felt ashamed of himself. Was he really so wrapped up in thoughts of Yazoo that he'd just insulted the man he owed so much?

"It's all right. Not being entirely human has some advantages," Vincent said.

"Right. And – never saw you after, but I wanted to say thanks – you know, for Tseng, and Elena."

Vincent nodded. "I was a Turk once," he said.

Reno didn't voice his immediate, bitter thought, but he couldn't unthink it: yeah, well, so was I.

As he walked home, he told himself that he was being stupid – of course he was still a Turk – these disturbed thoughts were just some mild sort of trauma, and he'd soon recover. All he had to do was focus on now – take things one day at a time. I'll go out this evening, with Rude and Elena, he thought. Maybe meet some girl – Who knows, might get lucky, and meet one like Char!

But underneath the suspicion nagged at him – Yazoo's infected me – his power is irresistible – I'll never get him out of my head. And buried deeper still was a terrible feeling of loss, and an insidious whisper: he said my name. He was dying, and he wanted me, and I wasn't there.