Disclaimer - I don't own any of the characters from FFVII . . . I can wish though, right?
Author's Notes - Okay . . . a lot of people didn't like the whole Seph smoking thing. Personally, I just threw it in there as a way to show just how much he DIDN'T experience during his past life before he went nuts. He is learning still, after all. I don't intend for him to pick up smoking or anything of that nature, trust me.
And now, on with the story.
Chapter 7 - Visiting the Past or a Trap?
They stopped outside of Nibelheim, on a cliff overlooking the small town. Cloud and Tifa stared down at it in silence, their eyes vague as they remembered their childhood. Sephiroth refused to look, staying as far from the cliff edge as he could, once again masking his hair color with the dye he had used as Seth. He was not looking forward to walking into a town he had once destroyed in rage . . . once again confronting a past deed that he wished with all his being he could erase.
Vincent watched his son reapply the hair dye in silence, suspecting what it was that was going through Sephiroth's mind. He could only offer his silent support, knowing that this above all else would be most painful to the proud warrior . . . to be confronted with the very town his most horrendous crime had been committed in. At last, Sephiroth rose, his eyes once again violet, his hair falling in a black curtain down his back. He glanced at Vincent, but said nothing, only shrugging his pack over his shoulder, his stance stiff and unnatural.
Not speaking a word, he began the descent into Nibelheim, Vincent and the others falling in behind him quietly. Finally, only Cloud and Tifa remained on the cliff face.
"This will be hard on him," Tifa murmured, watching 'Seth' walk slowly down the path towards the town below. She could already see his shoulders hunched, as if awaiting a harsh blow. "Couldn't we just leave him here and go into town ourselves?"
"No Tifa. He's the only one who has any idea of what to look for . . . besides which, you know he would not stay here, even if we offered it to him. He sees this as his penance . . . his punishment for his crimes. He has to face it sometime Tifa . . . at least this way, we are here to help . . . if we even can." Turning, he shouldered his own pack and handed her the one she had been carrying. Together, they followed their companions towards town, wondering what fate had in store for them now.
*----------*----------*----------*----------*
The group moved through town easily, the inhabitants of the town casting only the occasional glance in their direction. Sephiroth kept his eyes on the ground, refusing to look anywhere but where his feet were taking him. He knew if he looked up, he would see the town as it had been before he burned it . . . Shin-Ra had rebuilt it almost exactly. He moved easily for the inn, wishing they could be in and out of the town quickly . . . but they had arrived nearly at dusk, and had determined that it would be best to stay overnight in town before heading for the reactor. Sephiroth had said nothing for or against the plan . . . he knew they would need a full day of sunlight to get to the reactor, and a good night's rest.
He could feel his companions concern for him . . . with good reason. This town reminded him too much of the things he had done. Here, in this place, was where the true horror had begun . . . where the true tainting of his soul had occurred. They reached the inn quickly, mainly due to the pace Sephiroth set. Procuring rooms was easily done, and he retreated to his room as fast as was possible, collapsing onto the bed with a relieved sigh. Vincent and Nanaki would be sharing the room with him later on . . . at the moment, the group was going back out to fill up their supplies. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering silently at the lack of contact he'd had with Jenova since that last attempt in Midgar. She seemed to have given up on him . . . which only made him wonder just what it was she was up to.
Rising from the bed, he went to the door, exiting the room quietly. Moving down the hallway, ghost like in his complete silence, he made his way down the stairs and out of the inn. Making a direct left turn, he headed for the one area of Nibelheim that had been untouched by fire . . . the one place that still remained standing and abandoned . . . Shin-Ra Mansion.
The gates still stood haphazardly, open enough to admit one person at a time. He hesitated, not sure what had drawn him to the place . . . then walked through the gate. The mansion door was unlocked . . . it appeared that no one in town ever came here for them to worry about locking it. He stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. The room beyond had not changed . . . the staircase climbing one side to the balcony, the chandelier that hung with cobwebs . . . it was all the same, untouched by hand or time.
He sighed, moving softly across the foyer to the staircase, climbing them slowly, his hand trailing over the railing lightly. So much pain . . . so many horrifying memories that this house held for him. He found he was shivering uncontrollably. It was easy to find the secret door to the hidden labs . . . his mind flashed him the image of a guard sitting on watch across from it . . . he stopped at the image. He remembered . . . no. The memory had been there, fleeting on the edge of his mind, but was gone before he could grasp it. He stepped through the secret door, descending the decaying staircase slowly.
The bottom was dark . . . he didn't bother with a light, his inhuman vision making it easy for him to see in the brightest daylight or the darkest shadows equally. He made his way silently down the stone corridor, listening to the echo of his footsteps on the stone. It was the only sound in the place . . . no sound of creatures or the elements, just the sound of boots against stone. The door to the library and the secret lab loomed near at the end of the hallway . . . he hesitated before it momentarily before reaching out a hand to push it open. Absently he summoned Fire 1, calling the magic from his blood to light the oil lamps that he knew where there.
Illumination flared up, and he gazed in dull recognition at his surroundings. Yes . . . this was where he had lost his sanity . . . the place where Hojo had planted the final lie. He remembered . . . reading for days, not sleeping, not eating . . . absorbing the lies that Hojo had left here for him to find, knowing that it would prove the final straw to snap an already unbalanced mind.
"Did you accomplish what you had planned, Hojo?" he whispered, staring at the book shelves he had once plundered in his search for the truth. "Was my resulting insanity all that you had hoped it would be?" He walked down the corridor of books to the desk at the far end, sinking gracefully into the chair as he stared up at the portrait hanging above the door . . . a portrait of Hojo.
"I thought you were my father, you sadistic son of a bitch. All my life . . . all I could wonder was what I did wrong that made you hate me so much. I spent my whole childhood trying to come up with some reason for your torture, for your indifference. But you suspected all along, did you not?" he whispered, staring at the portrait in muted hatred. "You suspected all along that I was not your son . . . although I highly doubt it would have changed anything if you had completely believed you were my father. Science was the great love of your life . . . I was just the experiment."
"Sephiroth?"
"Hello Vincent." Vincent came into view at the other end of the corridor, his look one of slight concern.
"Here you are. I suspected you would come here . . . the others were worried when they didn't find you in the hotel room."
"I needed . . . to see it again. I do not know why . . . something just told me to come here."
"Well, since we are here . . . perhaps we could find something on what Hojo did to Zack? Since this is the lab in which he would have done it . . . or at least started it." Sephiroth stood up from the desk slowly, nodding slightly.
"I had not thought of that. Now . . . if I can remember how Hojo coded these damned books . . ." He wandered slowly down the hallway, scanning the bookshelves carefully. "Here it is." He pulled down a book slowly, the code on its binding reading Z-H-01. "Zack - Human - First Book," he explained to Vincent.
"We should gather up the rest and take them back to the inn. I do not think it healthy for you to remain here long," Vincent murmured. Sephiroth sighed.
"Yes. There is nothing for me here . . . but horror." Gathering up five other volumes with the same code beginning, the two men left the house that had been their mental and physical prison and returned to their friends.
*---------*---------*---------*--------*
It was long hours later when father and son finally retired to their beds to sleep, having gone over the books several times, stopping to discuss certain key points between them. It felt like mere moments between the time Sephiroth had passed out to now, and he couldn't identify what had caused him to awaken from his slumber. Standing, he made his way to the window . . . and looked out onto a scene from his nightmares.
Nibelheim was burning . . . again.
He shouted, a hoarse cry of denial breaking past his lips as he staggered back from the window and whirled towards the door, breaking through it at a dead run, making his way to the street below. Everywhere he saw flames, and the bodies of the innocent dead. He turned full circle, staring in horror at the carnage and destruction. It was then that he caught a glimpse of something beyond the flames, near the abandoned mansion. He charged, the Masamune appearing in his hand as he ran, the flames caressing him as if he was a part of them. In a way, he was, the rage boiling in his heart making his blood course like flames over fuel soaked wood.
Breaking from the fire, he stumbled to a halt as he came face to face with . . . himself. His eyes widened as the agony ripped through his chest, taking his breath with it in a pain filled hiss.
"No . . ." he gasped out. Raising the Masamune, he attacked, his rage adding speed to his already mind numbing movement. Masamune clashed against Masamune, green eyes met green eyes in glaring hatred as the two warriors faced off. This was a fight that neither could win . . . but that one could lose.
*---------*---------*---------*---------*
The group gathered in the hallway, all having been awakened by the same brief shout they had heard. Together, they left the inn, splitting up to search for their missing member . . . the one most vulnerable to attack in this one town . . . Sephiroth.
Tifa went with Vincent and Nanaki, the feral beast using his nose as best he could to try to track the scent of their missing comrade. It led them past the Shin-Ra mansion, still standing dark and silent, abandoned after the terrors it had been a part of. Vincent mentioned briefly that he and Sephiroth had been in there earlier, and that Sephiroth had seemed fine at the time before moving on, following the path that eventually would lead to the mako reactor in the mountains.
It was the sound of metal clashing against something that sent them into a run, Vincent taking the lead quickly as he recognized the voice of his newly discovered son crying out in denial. Pulling his gun from it's holster, he sped swiftly and silently up the path, only to skid to a halt around one corner. Nanaki and Tifa quickly caught up to him, and could only stare in dawning horror at the sight before them.
Sephiroth was fighting with something . . . . but all they could make out was a shadowy form. Shallow cuts decorated the majority of his body . . . even as they watched new ones appeared. It was Vincent who first connected the appearance of the wounds with blows Sephiroth was landing on the shadowed thing before him.
"Sephiro . . . Seth, stop!" he cried out, racing forward to pull his son away from the battle. Narrowly avoiding a blow that would have taken a good chunk of flesh out of him, he tackled the crazed swordsman, forcing him to the ground and banging his hand forcefully into the ground until he released his white-knuckled grip on the Masamune. He stared down into empty, glazed emerald eyes, staring at some sight that only their owner could see.
"It was all my fault . . . those innocent people . . . I will not allow it to happen again . . ." Sephiroth was murmuring, the words a chant that seemed to go with whatever horror was flashing past his eyes. Vincent and Tifa called out to him, but he didn't seem to be hearing anything that they were saying.
*---------*---------*---------*---------*
Again and again he attacked the image of himself, only to hear it laugh at him as his blows were either blocked or did no harm.
"This . . . will not . . . happen . . . again!" he growled, anger fueling his movements into a blur. His other half merely laughed, catching his arm and dragging him in closer until he was face to face with it.
"You can not stop it . . . just as you can not kill me. I am a part of you . . . and always will be. You are me . . . and someday you will be me again. Accept it, admit it weakling . . . you can not escape what you are."
"NEVER AGAIN!" Sephiroth howled, pulling himself from the other's grasp only to attack again. As his blade passed through the apparition, it melted, taking on the form of his nemesis . . . Jenova.
You can not escape me, beloved of my flesh, son of my blood. I am your mother as you are my son . . . those mortals gave you nothing compared to the power you had at my hand. Return to me . . . return to your mother's arms . . . I love you, my son . . . I have always loved you, as no one else will . . .
Already weakened by the mental 'trap' Jenova had lay for him, Sephiroth sank to his knees, the Masamune falling from his deadened grip as he grasped his head tightly in his hands, fighting to maintain the tenuous grip on his sanity that he so carefully preserved.
"NO!" he shouted out, crying out in agony as she clawed at his mind . . . taking away pieces of his sanity . . . of his newly acquired life. "NEVER!" He whimpered as the pain threatened to tear his mind asunder, his body curling in on itself to protect from a pain that came from within.
You will join me, or you will destroy yourself . . . you can not fight me forever, my beloved son . . . come to me . . . cease this endless torment, this fatal dream that you cling to so desperately . . . take up your sword and become the god you were meant to be by my side . . .
His soul cried out in agony, waves of darkness and despair crashing over it in never ending waves of torment as she ripped her way through his mind, seeking to once again take control of the body she had so lovingly prepared for herself in a different life. It was into this darkness, this nearly overwhelming tidal wave of agony that his soul was cast, screaming at the torment that awaited him in the pits of a hell of his own making.
*---------*---------*---------*---------*
"Oh Planet, we're losing him Vincent. What is she doing to him?" Tifa whispered, her face etched with sorrow and worry as she stared down at the writhing body that Vincent held pinned beneath his body.
"I do not know, Tifa. But he is losing the battle. Talk to him Tifa . . . your voice has always been able to reach him . . . bring him back to himself. She's feeding off him . . . using his own guilt and inner torment against him . . . and it's tearing him apart."
*---------*---------*---------*---------*
"Sephiroth . . ." the voice whispered, a life line that he clung to desperately as he recognized the voice.
"Tifa . . ." he whispered. "I can not fight her . . . she is too strong . . ."
"You must . . . please, Sephiroth . . . fight her . . . your friends are here . . . you aren't alone anymore . . . come back to us . . ." The voice beckoned him, giving him strength when he had nearly given up the fight.
*---------*---------*---------*---------*
"He's responding to you Tifa . . . keep talking . . . lead him back to us . . ." Vincent murmured, staring down at his son, his own anger at Jenova muted by the fear that he would lose his son just as he had found him.
*---------*---------*---------*---------*
"Tifa . . ." his voice whispered. Jenova recoiled mentally as the image of her smiling with him, talking with him brought light back into the darkness of his soul . . . the darkness that had nearly consumed him. She redoubled her efforts, mental claws tearing through the mind of her puppet in a vain attempt to gain a hold. The light was too strong, the emotions with it stronger as more images filtered through . . . Tifa standing before him, begging the rest to give him the chance to explain . . . Vincent handing him his mother's journal while telling him that his mother had loved him . . . Cloud welcoming him into their friendship . . . Cid staring at him as he tried a cigarette . . . the images flowed faster and brighter, forcing Jenova out of his mind. She retreated with a snarl, knowing that for the moment, he had won . . .
"Tifa . . . thank you . . ."
*---------*---------*---------*---------*
Vincent started as the body beneath him suddenly went limp, emerald eyes falling closed as Sephiroth stilled and fell silent. Quickly, he checked for a pulse, finding it strong but erratic, racing as if he had just run a marathon.
"We have him . . . we need to get him back to the inn though . . . and keep a close watch on him," Vincent murmured. Standing, he slung the limp form over his shoulder, grunting a little as the weight settled around his shoulders. Helping Tifa up from her kneeling position, they made their way back down the path, Tifa contacting the others on the PHS to let them know that they had found their missing friend.
