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: more of Seph/Gen reflections on life, short one this time :) I've just bought a book, I've been waiting for almost a year. :)

Chapter XII.

Two as one.

Sephiroth pushed the railing aside and straightened. The night was clear and starlit, the chill of approaching dawn caressing his face. He looked up, at the upturned chalice of nocturnal welkin; it used to give him an illusion of freedom, when he was out of Midgar either on short missions, or during his war in Wutai.

Sephiroth shook his head, and slipped back through the balcony doors.

The night was almost over, and the ex-general suddenly felt a desire to rest, even if for just an hour or two.

Gingerly nestling up to his lover's body, Sephiroth wrapped his arm around Genesis' bare shoulders. The smile on thin lips was sad, his thoughts still on his past.

No one – not even Genesis – knew that a part of him permanently died when General Sephiroth triumphed over a person with the same name for the first time.

Only… only he was too young to die then.

Genesis loved scarlet, the color of passion, the color of blood, of flames. It symbolized a lot to him. His whole life was scarlet in color, patterned with raw emotions, crowned with fires of madness, lavishly drowned in blood. The redhead offered himself unsparingly to the world around him, always asking as much in return.

Asking everything, never bothering to ponder that everything was too much.

Genesis opened a small fancy box and looked at the long earring covered in red tissue paper. It resembled his silver one, only had a tear-shaped ruby at the end, bright as clear carmine droplet of blood.

It was Sephiroth's gift, the first and the last one Genesis has ever received. His lover wasn't a man of fine words or grand gestures, and they, or lack thereof, let the redhead welcome each single detail with particular gratitude.

He simply knew they were sincere, unique just as his angel.

Long fingers gingerly picked it up and replaced the silver one in his ear, bright azure eyes sweeping the small bathroom before focusing on his reflection. Perfect. The gem played vivid colors in wan light of a frosted bulb, and yet that deep almost threatening crimson fascinated Genesis the most.

Then the redhead reached for the silken scarlet shirt, threw over his shoulders and fondly buttoned it to the last but one. Yes, he always looked stunning in scarlet, only one thing sometimes frustrated Genesis. Sephiroth rarely noticed.

Tucking the shirt into his black leather pants, the redhead clasped the belt and straightened. The ruby in his earring flashed as Genesis threw his head back, admiring himself again through half-closed sky-blue eyes. He smiled.

Scarlet.

After all, fallen angels should burn.

When he gracefully slipped through the bathroom door Sephiroth was already dressed and waiting for him. His silver-haired lover sat in an armchair with his long legs tucked up beneath him. Silver eyebrows knitted when emerald eyes caught sight of him.

"You spend too much time in the bathroom, Genesis," the redhead caught dissatisfied notes in his deep voice.

Certainly, how very like Sephiroth. He would not notice how the redhead looked, but when it came to time and schedule he became as captious as one could only be.

And yet that day was a day for surprises. Sephiroth actually noticed.

He slipped out of the armchair, came to stand by his side and whispered into redhead's ear.

"And so that you know, I do like your shirt."

Genesis looked slightly amused. Catching his lover's refined palm, the redhead placed it on his waist, pulling Sephiroth's body up to his own to tear away a sultry kiss from those thin lips. He didn't know why Sephiroth had so much power over him, but each time he perceived that moist warmth of flawless curves, that gentle yet heated touch of his tongue, his depths were waking, reaching for his lover's offering as a flower would turn towards the sun.

Those almost void depths, forever seared with hatred he once felt, opened up to his angel. Such passions always left an indelible stain in someone's soul, embittering it.

Genesis moved away to gaze at his lover. Sephiroth always looked gorgeous in black, alabaster skin set off and the beauty of blazing silver-green eyes accentuated, reminding him of aurora borealis reflected on the stormy sea wave; scarlet and black, flames and night.

Was their fall endless?

…In the city with the name of Gwea libraries were huge, each of the three located in an old fashioned building with chimeras and other mythical beings twining around the twin columns that supported the dome-like roof. It reminded Genesis of temples they've seen in other places where people would sacrifice something to their gods. Strange customs, the redhead had to admit to himself. Gaia never required any oblations.

If appeared knowledge was an important part of this city's life. One could use and get it for free any time.

"Beautiful building, isn't it?" he asked as they ascended the marble stairs. Not to attract too much attention Genesis allowed his forefinger to wind around Sephiroth's.

His lover hemmed, returning the gesture.

"Beautiful," it was spoken quite dispassionately, but the redhead was used to that strangle, sometimes even stunning contrast between his lover's voice and the meaning of his words.

Genesis stopped by one of the columns, traced a line over one of the ugly beasts' mouth with his fingers.

"Interesting symbolism," he thoughtfully pondered.

"Do you mean knowledge embodied in such… unpleasant shape?"

Their eyes met.

"My words exactly."

They moved on, opening the heavy black door to the fortress of knowledge; at least this analogy was on tip of redhead's tongue.

Sephiroth smirked, giving it a quick once-over.

"This door is designed in such a way that it would hold against a battering ram, should someone think of breaking though."

Genesis shrugged, absently setting the collar of his scarlet shirt straight. His eyes focused on more aesthetical parts of the door, like an exquisite pattern, which covered the smooth black surface as thin cobweb.

Red runner stretched from underneath their feet, both walls on either side were decorated with paintings. Insides of the building conformed to the outsides.

To their right the redhead saw a stand, and immediately headed towards it. Sephiroth followed aloof.

"History," Genesis quietly read, finding the corresponding word in the list of sections. "Hall C."

Sephiroth came to stand behind him, and immediately he could feel his lover's warmth.

"Is this where you would like to head first?"

An arch smile curved his slightly plump lips.

"Unless… you have other suggestions."

A light chuckle rang behind his back, followed by faint mocking whisper.

"You are predictable, Genesis."

…The spacious room at the end of hall C, labelled as "Modern history", was quite empty to cap their joy. Two men were sitting by the opposite wall, engrossed in their studies; neither of them noticed their intrusion. The redhead flashed a trademark grin at the lady on duty, and chose a place for their leisure as far from her as possible.

On his way the redhead picked some books at random and made himself comfortable in the deep dark-green chair by the old-fashioned wooden table. Sephiroth followed his example, taking a seat by his side.

And so they began reading. Genesis was looking for peculiar stories, individuals and such to complete his impression on the world they fetched up at. After all, they were given a unique opportunity to find out what actually lay beyond their small planet, learning that its history, its tragedy was as a droplet of salty water in the ocean of the unknown. The picture that formed in Genesis' mind was… grand.

For a couple of hours they searched in silence. From time to time Genesis or Sephiroth would get up to get a new book; dozens of wars, treasons, forlorn or crushed hopes together with rising faith and dreams opened before them as petals of the world as if it were a tender flower. And it would appear before them in its unimaginable cruelty, unmatched uniqueness and irrefutable beauty.

Suddenly Sephiroth's deep voice rang in silence. It appeared he began reading a passage from a book he held in his hands.

"…Hearts of men were heavy, anxious; we went through six years of exile, and yet the future was still vague." His lover spoke quietly, each word pronounced with bitterness. "We sacrificed so much for the happiness of our motherland; personal happiness, family, health, blood and life itself. The present seemed black as hades; it pained me to understand that all the struggle of past years could be vain. And yet we had to be strong, keep our presence of mind and courage in fellow soldiers…"

He fell silent, and Genesis gingerly asked.

"What is it, Sephiroth?"

Sephiroth rested his gaze upon him, emerald eyes hazed over with thought. Thin lips folded into a bitter smile.

"I never had it, faith I mean. I knew my work had to be done; I even came around to enjoy it at times. But…" he paused, shaking his head, "it was a matter of victory, a matter of change rather than firm belief I was doing the right thing. I was not naïve to believe Shin-Ra wished to make our lives better. And that fervent conviction… never felt it. Never." The ex-general put the book aside, sighing. "Only Angeal had that kind of faith. He was lucky."

Genesis cast his eyes down.

"Angeal died for it."

"Yet he lived his life as he wished and died as chose." Sephiroth leaned back in his chair, that bitter smile not leaving his lips. "I can't say the same of us."

"Who promised us anything?"

His lover waved aside.

"You are thinking one thing and I another. We sacrificed as much for the cause neither of us believed in, for the motherland that discarded us."

Genesis pulled a face, but said nothing. His angel was right, and the redhead felt no guilt, no regret for wreaking havoc in Midgar. They deserved it, to the very last burned corpse and broken life.

He didn't understand why Sephiroth thought the other way.

Looking intently at his thoughtful lover, he shook his head.

"I am tired, let's go home," Genesis rose, unnoticeably stretching himself. "We'll come back tomorrow."

Sephiroth nodded, grabbing a book he wanted to take with him.

Only Genesis didn't know they'd never return to this place; this was their last peaceful day.

People were not supposed to know about their future, and in it lay an unquestionable wisdom…

Wan candle flames flickered in gentle evening breeze; the light they gave was enough to discern the details, at the same time drowning the room in the faint reddish glow, cozy with a touch of mystery. Remains of their dinner were still on the table.

Genesis reclined on the couch, half-naked, almost all buttons of his scarlet silken shirt undone; his very pose radiated sweet languor, graceful and feline. Murrey sparks danced in lively cerulean depths, as the last stroke of a paint brush concluding his image.

Rhapsody.

Sephiroth put the book aside and glanced at his lover. He wore that somewhat lazy expression, fingers slowly turning over the pages of a thick tome, his eyes almost absently sliding along the lines. From time to time he would pick up a pencil and scribe something in his burgundy book.

"What are you doing?" Sephiroth asked, shifting so that he could get a better view of the redhead.

"Looking for stories and mysteries hidden therein."

"Found anything interesting?"

"Oh, thereby hangs a tale," the redhead mumbled a bit dramatically, diligently tracing out each letter.

Sephiroth smirked. Suddenly all desire to talk gave way to sit in utter silence, and simply revel in rolling waves of pleasant emotions.

It felt like freedom to him, freedom from his past, his crimes, his conscience, even if it was short and fickle.

Sephiroth rose to his feet and came to stand by the opened window. Gwea was sprawled below, blazing with multicoloured twinkles, shadow of a casual lone passerby sliding along the street flooded with light of street lamps.

The ex-general suddenly remembered how he stood by the window in the captured command post in Auron so many years ago it sometimes felt as a dream by now; only he never dreamt like all others did.

Sephiroth folded his arms. The city looked too peaceful to be Auron, no smoky pillars marred the beauty of starlit sky, glows of fires replaced by placid glimmer of neon light. Only his pose reminded him of that night, his thoughtful gaze fixed on something in the distance.

Genesis came to stand by his side, light as a shadow, warm as crackling embers.

"Looks like Auron to me," the redhead spoke. "On the night it fell."

Did his lover read his thoughts?

Sephiroth nodded, as Genesis continued.

"I remember we stood just like that, and the city below was burning, lazily, shedding thick black smoke as if it were tears. I had blood on my palms, my memory torn with images of recent carnage in the narrow streets." Azure eyes met his. "I remember wanting to kiss you, badly; but pride never let me go back on my word."

Sephiroth smiled.

"You would be surprised, but I wanted your kiss perhaps as badly as you did; it was one of those rare moments I let myself dwell on that night."

Genesis' eyebrows arched with genuine amusement.

"Then why didn't you say so?"

He shook his head. Genesis would never understand; one has to grow in isolation to feel the same way he felt.

"I… didn't know how to express my feelings," he tried to explain as best as he could. "I thought it was… inappropriate."

The redhead laughed, his melodic voice so joyous.

"Inappropriate? This is so adorable, Sephy…"

Sephiroth couldn't hide another smile, which gently touched the edges of thin lips. The ex-general hung his head, but then felt his lover's fingers lifting his chin.

"Why don't we amend the miscue?" Genesis passionately breathed out, azure eyes caressing him. "You wouldn't think it to be inappropriate this time… would you?"

Last words were added with a playful smirk.

"No," Sephiroth watched his lover as he adroitly climbed onto the windowsill, tightly wrapping his slender legs around his waist. Feminine palms settled on his shoulders.

Sephiroth drew forward, resting his head on Genesis' bare chest. Nimble fingers ran through his silver hair, and then all of a sudden his lover jumped up, standing upright in the window opening.

Cerulean depths were on fire as his lover offered him a hand. Sephiroth took it, joining him.

Genesis turned his dreamy face , graced with a heavenly smile, towards the starry sky, and leapt out of the window, dragging him along. If Sephiroth forgot about the inhuman nature of his wing, flights always gave him immense pleasure.

Wings opened out, flapping and as silent shadows together they gyred upwards. Jet-black feathers fell, circling, to the ground, and perhaps tomorrow people would ask themselves what birds could have left them there…

They flew as flame-colored glowing skies across the empyrean; as celestial litany.

Fallen angels.

How many hours did their flight last? Sephiroth didn't count; time slid along the welkin with measured beating of single black wing, with sensation of Genesis' hand joined with his, with streams of cool wind washing over his body…

They landed on a rock just above the sea, which looked like the one on the day they arrived.

Genesis impatiently threw off his clothes, and stood in front of him, completely naked, bathing in faint moonlight, uneclipsed in his audacity.

Sephiroth felt heat rising, taking over him, as Genesis gracefully turned, fingers clutching at the cliff, his body arching, and slender legs parting in an eager invitation. Auburn head turned, flashing a demanding azure gaze at him. "What are you waiting for?" He could almost read the question in them. Sephiroth obeyed at once, slipping out of his black attire.

Genesis uttered a deep-throat laugh as Sephiroth's palms firmly settled on his narrow thighs, bringing him closer until his lover's back arched even further as if the redhead was impaled. Sephiroth violently took Genesis, wringing an acute moan from his lover's lips; Genesis' long fingers convulsively clutched at black stones, his head hung.

Bliss shot through Sephiroth's body, palms began caressing his lover in every possible way, merging with the effervescent rhythm of their passion. His fingers found the sensitive salience of his lover's nipples, rubbing them, making Genesis' body hot clay in his hands, hands of a creator that molded him into the shape Sephiroth desired. Making Genesis cry with shameless lewd desire.

Sephiroth felt flames rising with every abrupt movement of his thighs, filing him, and in turn compelling to groan with pleasure.

They were blazing and fading, fading and blazing once again, until red-hot lightning shot through their shuddering bodies.

Then Genesis fell to his knees, unnerved, breath labored, auburn hair plastered to his forehead; Sephiroth followed, tightly wrapping his arms around his lover's stooping frame, heat of Genesis flushed naked body burning every inch of him. Silver veiled them, playing as myriads of diamonds; raven-black wing unfolded from Sephiroth's back, shrouding their kneeling frames.

Rhythm of their breaths evened, hearts beating in unison, joining two as one.

Lightning shot through the darkness as first heavy droplets began to fall, trickling down the raven-black feathers of Sephiroth's wing as tears.

Yet neither of them moved.

Two melded as one. Two fallen as one.

Two forsaken as one.