A/N: This is a little longer than my other chapters. Hope you enjoy the conflict. I just hope the plot is progressing at a good pace. After this chapter, I'm going to look at some previous and clean them up and flesh them out a bit.

C.R. Carter: Your comments are lovely. Makes me feel better about my uncertainty with writing...glad you like my Cid, he holds a special place in my heart, as I am an engineering major. :)

Chapter 8 – Escape from the Mind

I will soon see you, my lovely Tifa

Who are you?

Closer than you think

She dared not move, for the hypnotic presence of her old enemy commanded her to stay, despite the protests of her hidden will. The room held a kind of stalemate, like the pieces on the chessboard ceased their maneuvering when the player's mind contemplated their next move.

Cloud...Vincent...Barrett...anybody? Make this nightmare stop...

She wanted to run. She wanted to hide behind Vincent like a child. She almost hoped Cloud would show up and save her, like he always did in her dreams.

But this was far more entangled than a dream.

"Tifa," the harsh voice of the man before her spoke, like a commander to his troops, "Have you seen him, yet?" Tifa just stared back, her expression empty.

I do not even know if I am here...

You are not.

She grimaced slightly, feeling her mind slip away was not the best idea in this situation. Of course, the proper action in this situation was hard to fathom anyway. The crossed her arms, hoping to hold herself together, waiting for something, either death or aid, as her thoughts seemed only to present two options. Then, she found her voice.

"...No," she rasped out, feeling as if her vocal chords hadn't been used for years, "Why...Sephiroth?" She stared at the haunting image before her; he was death's messenger...

He has come to take me away, take me away from a world that no longer needs me.

Her mouth was bitter and dry, and tasted like foul wine.

"Are we here for a purpose?" Vincent's voice sliced through the air, and Sephiroth turned to stare at him, almost as if he had forgotten the man's presence. The general lifted his Masamune, and let his eyes travel the blade, caressing its gentle curve with his gaze.

"You have met Obsession, have you not?" he said, continuing his appraisal of his weapon. Vincent raised an eyebrow; the rest of his face remained expressionless.

"You know I have," his countenance almost stern, and his tone nearly impatient.

"Lucrecia is gone now," Sephiroth said, finally looking up from his blade, waiting for Vincent's reaction. Then shrouded man simply lowered his eyes.

"So you found her?" he said, a prodding, slow kind of voice. Sephiroth studied him, a cold faced appraisal, concealing any thoughts he had of the half demon.

They are sometimes so alike...chilling.

Tifa nearly jumped at her own thoughts, and decided to stare at the floor. Sephiroth let his gaze turn to her, bringing the curl back to his lip. "She found me," he said, relishing the heightened tension in the room, "How else would I have survived?"

"A mother's love is a terrible thing sometimes," Vincent spoke, quietly and bitterly, a resurfacing anger passing across his face. The effect with short, however, and his icy stare soon covered the sudden flush of emotion.

Sephiroth almost smiled at this, but resolved to smirk instead. "We don't have time for this," he said finally, his words clipped and precise. Tifa's head jerked up from the floor, only to see that Sephiroth was looking at her, not Vincent.

Get to the point; I've had enough of this.

Suddenly, she felt bolder. It was Sephiroth, but they had "killed" him, hadn't they?

"Yes, just tell us want you want with us," she said, returning Sephiroth's stare with an icy one of her own.

"Your darkest fears," he said, taking a large commanding step towards her, "Your deepest sins," he looked at Vincent with that, "And my greatest failures."

What?

He's found us out, my dear.

Tifa shook her head, looking at the floor again. The imposing boots of the inhuman creature were no more than two feet from her.

"Have you ever heard voices, Tifa?" Sephiroth asked, leaning in closer, making her feel cornered, his eerily green eyes piercing through her own. Yet, her boldness was rising in her chest, spreading like fire through her limbs.

I could fight you. Right now.

"Yes," she said, immediately wishing she had not revealed that, for the look on Sephiroth's face was too pleasant to be anything good. He looked utterly pleased with himself; the twisted form of his smile was too familiar...

"Tifa!" she heard Vincent shout, but she felt strange, her legs were giving out, and she didn't know why...

She heard Sephiroth laugh, and everything was blue...brilliant blue. Then she ceased to exist in the room, something was...

Not right, this is not right. Where did they go? Where am I?

"With me."

The voice had a haunting familiarity, a husky masculine edge that neither man she had been with previously possessed. It lacked the commanding superiority of Sephiroth's, and the melodic intonation of Vincent's. It was a voice she could die to.

"Show yourself," she said, intending to sound commanding, but ending up sounding lost. She could not feel as physical form, only the aches of her mind, which seemed to stretch out like limbs. All she had was this strange sight, a world of brilliant blue, and she knew that it was not her eyes that beheld it.

If she had eyes, she would not she what appeared from the blue. If she had eyes, they would have been wet and pouring over her cheeks.

It was Cloud. As sure as she was Tifa, it was Cloud.

"Cloud?" she asked, with the unreal vocal chords this trance afforded her, "Is that really you?"

"If it will let me keep you, I am," he replied, an oddly hungry expression in his eyes.

She didn't know how to answer that, so she just asked another question. "Who are you then?"

"You may call me Surrender, dear," he replied lazily blinking once, "I have been needing you for quite some time."

Needing?

"Yes," he replied, an answer that puzzled her further. "You can read my thoughts?" she asked, wishing she could feel her face to further her expression.

I AM your thoughts and yet not your thoughts.

How had she not recognized the voice before? Did it sound that different in her own head?

But why appear as Cloud?

Why not? He lingers in your thoughts.

Why any of this at all?

Because I need you, don't you need me?

No! I don't even know what you are! How can I need you?

Even you cannot resist me. You are so close.

Leave me alone!

In time, you will come to see me differently. I have much planned for you.

Please, just leave me alone...

He slowly faded back into the blue from which he came, smiling at her with Cloud's smile, making her want to retch. The blue was fading, the brilliance seeping into itself, revealing strange patches of white...

Clouds. Large white cumulus clouds, foretelling fair weather.

She was in the real world; she could feel it in her toes and in her fingers, struggling through her veins. She was staring straight into a beautiful sky, on a day she would be glad to go adventuring on.

But this was not an adventure anymore. It was a nightmare.

She rolled up into a sitting position slowly, looking around to ascertain her position. The moss covered statue she had been looking for was in front of her. The stone girl was smiling, and she almost felt, mocking her. Her pack was lying haphazardly at its base, slumped over like a dead man.

Where is Vincent? And...Sephiroth?

She took her eyes off the statue, and looked around the clearing. Two forms were splayed out on the ground, eerily still. One was crimson, while the other was a mass of silver. She quickly attempted to find her legs, and when she could confidently steady herself, walked slowly over to the crimson heap.

She could not tell if he was breathing.

Panicking, she quickly knelt down, almost causing a dizzy spell. When she found her head again, she inspected Vincent's still form.

I can't tell if he's alive or not with this damn cape on.

She then decided to break an unspoken taboo, and began to fiddle with the clasps that held his cape on, her fingers trembling, making the task more difficult.

Calm down. You're just making sure he's alive. He won't mind too much later.

Once the straps were free, she flung the edges of the cape aside, and made for the scarf around his neck and lower face. She put her head on his chest, listening for a sign of life. His heartbeat was there, but faint, and it seems to but getting slower, like a clock winding down. This worried her, so she put her ear up next to his mouth.

He's not breathing. Oh gods.

She hesitated. This would be a very strange way for him to wake up, and it would look very awkward.

Quit being such a prude, he might die. You can't just let him die.

She lower her face close to his, feeling her face growing a burning red. But duty was winning over embarrassment, and she made contact, ready to force air into his lungs.

Then his eyes popped open.

Startled, she jumped back, looking like a radish, trying to hide her face with her hands. He laid there an uncomfortable expression on his fully exposed face.

Oh gods...

"I-I...y-you weren't b-breathing," she stammered out, still trying to hide her face. He slightly smirked, then let the expression fade into a tight lipped scowl.

So he does have facial expression...maybe that's why he wears the cape...

"Sephiroth," he said, still laying down, but folding his hands on his stomach. She turned a deeper red.

He'd better be breathing...

Without a word she got up, and hobbled over to the silver form, almost collapsing on him as her head spun.

Kneeling over him, she saw his green eyes staring back at her.

Thank gods...

He was different from inside the building. He had the same face, the same hair, but his clothes were definitely changed. They were all silver now, and the imposing metal enforced long coat was replaced with a high collared monk's coat, complete with spiked toggle buttons. He was still imposing...just changed. Tifa suddenly realized she had been staring, and that he was watching her the whole time. Suddenly uneasy, she looked away.

"So we've escaped the Gyre Trap," he said, his eyes still fixed straight up at her, "Now we can have a bit more control over the situation."

Gyre Trap?

"What did you DO!" she suddenly shouted, like pressure escaping a valve. Her memory of his laughter was still fresh in her mind. Sephiroth just gave her that lip curling sneer, and began to sit up.

"I got us out of there," he said, matter-of-factly, "You should be thanking me." She responded only with a glare, turning her attention back to Vincent. He was standing, and fully in control of his balance.

I wonder why he recovered so quickly.

"Did you know anything about this?" she asked him, her voice full of accusation. He shook his head, and made his way over to meet her and Sephiroth.

"A Gyre Trap is very ancient," Sephiroth said, ignoring Tifa and Vincent's previous exchange, "It holds the mind, and leaves the body to wither outside it. It lures people in with illusions."

"So the Turks were illusions?" Vincent asked, ignoring Tifa's glares.

"Correct," Sephiroth responded, a smug look now gracing his face, "They were twisted from your perceptions of them."

Then why did Elena make me so annoyed? She never used to...

"The most interesting part of a Gyre Trap is that it affects women...differently," he continued, eying Tifa as he said this, "It puts them in a heightened emotional state."

Oh, PMS. I get it.

"So what does this have to do with us?" Tifa asked impatiently, tired of Sephiroth's know-it-all tone. He smirked, almost like he enjoyed toying with her. Vincent scowled at this expression.

"The three of us are connected..." Sephiroth replied, "I just don't quite know how yet."

I should have never left the Highwind. Dammit Aeris, why did I have to agree to your request?