October, 1985

The subway car rattles around Sephiroth as he studies his map.

The people around him don't take any notice of him. They stare at their phones with dead eyes, waiting for the announcer to tell them to stumble off. His skin itches. They all know that this is the furthest he has been away from HQ. He's been on the subway a few times but never like this and not at this distance. The car rumbles down the tracks and the tunnel lights flash in and out.

Mariella has never discouraged him from leaving the center without her. Part of it is that she didn't have to. Sephiroth never had the time or interest to stray from his training and studying. He got out with Orlin and went to the bookstore that is good enough for him. His Shinra issued phone rolls in his hand and he thinks about the text sitting inside.

Can you meet me? I want to talk. I'm waiting here.

Orlin had sent it about half an hour ago and attached a location. The edge of the plate seemed like a strange place for the SOLDIER to be.

So Sephiroth figured out a direct route through the subway, sketched a map, noted the stops, found his saved pocket cash, took his keycard and left HQ. His stomach still hasn't settled down from earlier today. Fragments of memory haunt his mind in a way that he doesn't like. All he wants to do is wrap himself in a blanket and sleep. If Orlin isn't Orlin, Sephiroth would have ignored the text.

Not that anybody else uses his phone number.

Above the depths of the tunnel, he knows that the sun is almost gone from the sky. The smooth edges of the phone are calming on his fingers. The place is a shopping center still in construction. All the workers have probably left for the day. If Orlin is there, it means that he can sneak in without any trouble either

The train rattles to stop #44 - Maplewood Center. The plastic of the seat sticks to his pants and then he's off the train. No one gets off. They watch him until the door closes. The stop is supposed to be for people but as he climbs the dirty steps, he sees how it is a lie.

On the street level, everything is half built buildings and on partially made streets. A sign advertises the center coming in the spring of '86. What a great place to spend your life! is painted under an illustration of a cheerful street. The wind runs through his hair and it flickers red in front of his eyes. The sunset reaches this part of Midgar. The natural breeze touches him. It's so strange. At HQ, giant fans idle from their hidden places to keep the pollutants from settling on the streets.

Sephiroth brushes back the hair and ducks under the construction tape. He's right. No one is in sight.

The pebbles and wires crunch under his shoes as he walks past the black skeletons of the buildings. The screen on his phone tells him he has about a hundred yards to go. So he has to go past the main construction. The hot desert air settles in the back of his throat. He walks the main driveway and as he hurries, the construction starts to minimize. The plate itself is still being constructed. The street turns into white concrete and then metal sheets. The buildings are swapped for giant machines that hang high above his head and are bolted to the ground.

Then they clear away too and it is him and the empty space beyond.

The view makes him stop. He's not been to the edge before. The whole world stretches before him. The height gives him a view that he thinks that only the birds have seen before. The land lays out before him like a large swath of a blanket. The yellow of the cracked planet is golden as the sun dies off in the distance. If he squints, he can make out the touches of green that edge the start of the mountains.

The amount of space he can see is breathtaking.

"You know, it's good to text back."

Orlin sits on a beam jutting out at the very lip of the construction. His back is thrown into shadow but Sephiroth can see that he's slumped forward. His feet hang into the uncountable drop to the ground. Sephiroth drinks in the view one more time, trying to commit it to memory, and walks over to him.

"Sorry," he says and then pauses at the start of the beam. It is thick, possibly three or four feet across, but it hangs out over nothingness. The town below looks like matchboxes scattered in winding lines that connect and disappear. He's sure there are people there but he can't see them at all. The breeze nips against his pants. Orlin is about fifteen feet away from him.

"Have a seat. It's safe. I used to work on sites like this, remember?" Orlin snorts at his own question and shakes his head. He takes a drink out of a can next to him. His face is waxy in the light. He looks away but he doesn't seem to focus on anything. His black hair whirls around his head in the breeze.

Sephiroth half crouches as he crawls to Orlin. The beam is impassive to the new weight. His hands brush the metal top to help him keep his balance. His stomach drops through his body and hangs in the space far below. He's never been afraid of heights but this is different. This danger feels real in a way that cannot be undone. It is just air below him. Safety is far behind.

Orlin watches him idly as Sephiroth sits a few feet away. His shoes hang in the air and it takes all of Sephiroth's willpower not to look down. The cold metal feels solid and it doesn't sway as the wind continues to run past them. The view is even better out here. The rocky tops of the mountain range catch his attention.

"You shouldn't apologize so much," Orlin says.

"Sorry," the word automatically leaves him and he frowns.

Orlin snorts again and takes another drink out of the beer can. "You are going to lead people. They want you to be a hero. That's Shinra's big fat plan. You have to be strong. Resolute. All that crap. Apologizing isn't part of that game."

"Oh." Sephiroth knows part of this. Dinand has told him that he is going to be in the war. He knows that they want him to eventually lead. A hero though? He doesn't know that part.

"At the ripe age of what? What are you really? Five? Fuck," Orlin swears, empties the can and throws it off the edge. It dances silver in the light and winks out as it falls. The pull of gravity teases at him before he leans back to take a breath. His heart beats into his ears. Sephiroth decides this isn't the place to correct him that he turns twelve next month.

Orlin sways and pulls another can out of a bag that his body has been blocking from his view. Something is wrong about Orlin. Sephiroth chews on the inside of his cheek, trying to place it. Orlin is raw and hurt. The edges of him bleeding into the sun's dying light.

"What did you want to talk about?" Sephiroth looks away and asks. A black bird swirls in the air across from them. A couple feathers catch the wind.

Orlin twists the can in his hand. "He was my guy, you know."

"Huh?"

Orlin sets the can aside and doesn't seem to notice as the breeze slides it off the back and into the empty air.

He blinks into the light and tears roll down his face. "When you protect someone for so long, you learn everything about them. They learn everything about you. I saw him on his worst days. He saw me on mine."

Olrin wipes his face and half laughs at his own tears. "Over and over I put my life on the line for him. Rogue experiments. Dumb trips up mountains for 'science'. And then he turned around and supervised my mako treatments personally. Can you imagine? The head of the R&D department sitting next to you for three and a half hours to make sure that you are okay?"

"It sounds nice." Sephiroth folds his hands in his lap. The things he says make his head spin. The specific memories aren't there but the emotion is alive in him. Orlin nods but if the meaninglessness of the phrase is noticed, he doesn't bother with it.

"I counted the years. I got hurt in '80 and Professor Gast entered me in this very experimental program. I thought then 'what does R&D want with a half Wutai kid?' . It was scary." His hand reaches for the can and when it finds nothing, he leans against it instead. "It was the best three years of my life. He made me feel special. He gave me something that nobody else could. Something Shinra will never give anyone. Remember that kid. You're never special. You are never loved. You are a tool."

The sun is gone now behind the mountains. The clouds go purple as the light catches them.

"He told me to stay behind for my own good. I should have pushed harder. I didn't know he was leaving permanently. I should have gone after him-" Orlin brings out another can and pops the lid. He takes a drink out of it. Sephiroth blinks. His skin starts to feel hard and gritty from the sand but he ignores it.

"When everything happened. When everything happened with you - with him - I lost it," Orlin says to the can and then he looks at him. Grief plays in his eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't do more."

Sephiroth shrugs, uncomfortable. "It wasn't that bad. Dinand is worse."

Orlin bursts into another laughing fit but his face doesn't smile.

"I wish you knew your own life." He drinks deeply. "Gods, I wish I was braver."

"I think you are pretty brave."

The light dies in Orlin. He stops talking. The empty can gets flung over the edge. He finds another.

The space grows between them. Sephiroth plays with his fingers, rolling them over the new calluses. He doesn't miss the softness that used to be there but the change still strikes him. Dinand had grabbed his hand and twisted it upwards and only grunted at the new texture. It must be a good thing.

Orlin's voice cracks almost scares Sephiroth off the ledge. "Gast told once that a SOLDIER fell from this high up and lived once. I told him that was absolute bullshit. No way. He told me, no, he had survived because he had something to live for."

Sephiroth doesn't know what to say to that.

They lapse back into silence. Sephiroth watches the birds swoop and dance around in the sky. He knows that there are air currents out here and he traces them with the birds. Orlin drinks and sighs. He is not looking out. Instead, Sephiroth feels everything compacting in him further and further. The air starts to go cold but he doesn't leave. He can't. Orlin needs him somehow. The feeling is light but claws into him.

"They have to be lying. He wouldn't defect. He wouldn't do it," Olrin mutters. It is twilight now and Sephiroth has been counting the constellations he knows. Eight cans of beer have made their way over the edge.

"Okay." It is the only answer he can think of.

The stars grow brighter and brighter. From the top of HQ, Sephiroth has seen them before but out here, they seem like they are seated in an ocean of inky blue. The world is so much bigger than he thinks. Hundreds of thousands of millions of miles stand between him and those burning lights. Years too, he realizes, the light he sees burned before he was born and carries through space to get to him right here. Did he see these stars before he forgot them?

"I wasn't sure if I wanted to give you this but you have to know." Orlin interrupts his thoughts. "He cared so much for you. It's all been taken away, stolen, and I just can't stand it any longer."

Sephiroth looks in interest as Orlin pulls out a small cardboard box from his bag. "You must promise me that you will not show this to anyone or tell anyone who gave you this. You understand?"

"Yeah."

"No, you promise on your life. If you tell anyone, they will kill me."

Confusion settles over him. "I promise."

Orlin takes a breath. It shakes. His fingers wrap further around the box. It is worn and old looking. The left corner is beaten in. Yellow tape is brittle on the edge where the lid meets the bottom. Sephiroth doesn't reach for it and Orlin doesn't offer it. Instead they sit with the box in between them making it hard to breathe.

"When you first went missing, I went MIA." Orlin's thumb rubs the side of the box. "I went to where you were living. Obviously you weren't there but I thought I might be able to track you. I saw this in your room before the Shinra scientists came and cleaned everything up. I took it. It was my promise to myself that someday I would be able to give it back."

Sephiroth wants to snatch the box now but he holds himself back. Fresh tears roll down Orlin's cheeks.

"It's from before. From your before," he says, "It might hurt you, kid. I wouldn't know. I'm not a scientist."

Sephiroth can't breath as he offers forward his hands. They have a shake to them in the starlight. Orlin takes one sour look at the box and then gives it over. It isn't heavy. It is light but Sephiroth swallows at the weight. From his before. Something shifts and scrapes inside as he lowers it.

"I don't want you to be sad." The tears choke Orlin's voice. "But I can't stand that blank look on your face. They took him away from you."

He jerks forward. His arms wrap around Sephiroth and they hug on the edge of Midgar. The box bites into his chest as it is pinned between the two bodies. Orlin buries his head in his shoulder.

"They took him away from both of us."

Take a breath friends. That was a chapter.

Tell me your feelings. I have plenty. This chapter has hurt me multiple times.

Also you can play the very fun game: "what's in the box?"

Thank you for reading as always -Quin

Thanks to A for betaing this chapter. They are amazing. You can find their FFVII work on Twitter (AngealLovesYou).