Disclaimer: Again, I don't own these characters and have no intention of making any money off of them or this fic.

A/N: Writer's block is evil…_

Well, here's chapter three. It took me a long time and many tries to write this one, and I'm still not totally happy with it. Argh…I hope you like it anyway.

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["But I…heard the boy…and…he sounded hurt, so I…"]

He'd heard those words five years ago, yet he still recalled them in his mind as distinctly as if they'd been spoken yesterday. Nothing remarkable; if any of the assistants ever spoke up, it was something along those lines. The words had never changed his treatment. Hojo would just laugh, dismiss their words, and abuse him as usual, and the assistants were too cowed by him to turn their words into actions.

Yet for some reason, after this particular woman had uttered those words, he couldn't get them out of his head. She had almost sounded as though she'd actually do something.

Almost.

Sephiroth, now fourteen, stood in front of his mirror, forcing himself to stare back into the haunted verdant orbs of his reflection. He had decided long ago to avoid looking at that reflection for too great a time because it terrified him, but today was different. He had to gaze at that pale, somber façade, drained of its color by years of pain, fear, and hopelessness. He had to search deep into those emerald eyes, which had never held the vibrant gleam of youth, lit only by a synthetic, neon sheen.

Last night, as he had lain wide awake in bed, the lingering sting of Mako in his blood refusing to let him rest, he had made a vow to himself. A vow that required great conviction…a vow that would end Hojo's torture. And this morning, he needed to reassure himself of what had to be stopped.

Pulling his waist-length platinum hair into a ponytail and securing it at the nape of his neck with a short strip of black ribbon, he cast one final glance at the piercing Mako-bright eyes before heading downstairs, where Hojo was just rising from the kitchen table, a thin brown envelope in his hand.

"Ah, Sephiroth! You're up early!" he chuckled. "Excellent." He waved the envelope at him. "I just received word I was to increase your Mako dosage today. Twelve thousand hyper-concentrated grams. How does that sound, hmm?"

Sephiroth, who'd gone through a miraculous growth spurt the past year and now stood more than a head taller than his father, placidly looked down at him, his only response silence.

"Nothing to say, eh?" Hojo shook his head and started for the door. "I can tell you've got something on your mind, Sephiroth," he said as the teenager soberly followed him. "But whatever it is you're planning, don't bother with it. You already know you can't get away from me or the Shinra."

"Can't I?" he replied, stepping outside after the scientist. "You'll die someday, and Shinra won't last forever."

Hojo said nothing, but Sephiroth could see a half-smile crook the corner of his mouth.

Thanks to Sephiroth's early rising, they arrived at the Shinra Building half an hour early. The lab was relatively quiet, with less than half a dozen workers puttering at this and that, ignoring the two of them and focusing their half-hearted attention into their projects in a sad attempt at looking busy.

Hojo tossed the envelope onto his desk and motioned toward the back room. "Go ahead," he said, "I have to prepare the Mako. I'll be there in a moment."

Sephiroth remained where he was, standing several paces behind his father, his eyes trained on the back of the scientist's greasy head.

When he didn't hear his son obeying him, Hojo turned, meeting a pair of intense Mako eyes glaring at him from a few feet away. "What are you waiting for, Sephiroth? Just because you're bigger than me doesn't mean you can disobey me. Go!"

"No."

Hojo's ink-dark eyes took an edge of steel when he heard his son's uncharacteristic defiance. "What?" He took a step forward.

Setting his jaw, Sephiroth slowly shook his head. "I said…no."

"Since when were you given a choice in the matter?" Hojo scowled. "I didn't ask you to go, Sephiroth. I TOLD you to go." Another step forward. "Defying me will only bring you more pain, Sephiroth, you know that. You also know I have no qualms about giving you that additional pain."

Sephiroth swallowed hard and let his eyes wander over Hojo's shoulder. "I do," he confirmed. "Which is why…I can't let you do this to me anymore." He started to walk past Hojo, who latched onto his wrist as he passed.

"I don't know what you think you're going to get away with, boy," the scientist admonished him in a chill voice. "I've told you time and again you can't escape this, and I don't know what's possessed you to think you can defy the odds and leave. Sephiroth!" He jerked his arm backward, halting the teenager in his tracks. "You're only making this worse for yourself, but if that's how you want it, then by all means, follow through with your stupid plan. When the SOLDIERs drag your worthless hide back here, I will punish you so severely that you won't even remember your name."

"I don't think so." Sephiroth wrenched his arm free and continued walking. "I'm not running away." He stopped in front of a tray laden with brilliant stainless steel surgical implements. He hastily scanned the instruments before selecting two of them and turning to face his father. "I could run to the ends of the earth and not get away from your cruelty," he said. "I know that. So I'm not planning on running away from you. I'm going to end this here."

Before the scientist could say anything or sway his resolve, Sephiroth strode forward, locking his Mako eyes with Hojo's. A brief flash of confusion sparked in his mind when Hojo, who could clearly see what he had in his hands, didn't so much as flinch as he bore down on him. But that didn't matter. Right now, he didn't give a damn what Hojo had in mind. It didn't even phase him when the scientist offered him a huge, maniacal grin.

Sephiroth wordlessly buried a scalpel deep in Hojo's chest.

Hojo laughed. Blood spouted from the wound, staining his lab coat with a gruesome crimson blossom. He looked down at what little of the instrument protruded from his chest. He laughed even harder.

But Sephiroth didn't notice. For as soon as he'd stabbed the scientist, he'd taken the other tool he had, also a scalpel, and gashed it across his wrists. The sudden shock of pain brought tears to his eyes, and when he saw the profuse flood of scarlet spilling down his bare arms, those hot, stinging droplets fell.

This was what he wanted. He wanted to be rid of Hojo and his brutality, and as far as his distraught mind could see, this was the only way to accomplish that. It didn't matter what happened after he died. Heaven, hell, whatever other realm any of the religious factions named, he didn't care. So long as his bastard of a father wasn't there with him.

(One way or another this'll work. As long as at least one of us dies…I won't have to be at his mercy any more.) He dropped to his knees, still weakly clutching the bloody knife. (Why does this scare me so much, though? After all the hurt he's put me through, why does death still scare me? Death is freedom…isn't it?)

Hojo's demented laughter pierced his blurry consciousness. (He still laughs?! He could die…and he laughs? Damn him, anyway! Here I am…terrified of the only thing that will take me away from him…and he's laughing…!) He focused his dimming emerald eyes on the tool in his trembling hand. (I…I won't listen to him…laughing…anymore…)

Sephiroth squeezed his eyes shut and raised the scalpel. (Whoever's listening to me now…save me…) Tears spilling down his blanched cheeks, he drove the blade into his heart.

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No, Sephiroth…don't go to sleep on me now…you're not done yet.

You hear me? Don't sleep! Sephiroth! Wake up!

…up! Se…roth…!

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"Well, well, that was some sort of trick, wasn't it, boy?"

Sephiroth's Mako eyes shot open at the sound of his father's voice. A strangled cry escaped his throat when he saw Hojo's weasel-like face leering down at him. "Damn you!" he screamed, trying to sit up only to find that he had somehow been secured to the examination table. "Damn you! Damn you to all the hells! Don't you die? Why don't you die?! Why didn't I die? Why can't I get away from you, you bastard?!" More burning tears trickled from his eyes, acidic against his skin.

The scientist glanced down at the bloodstain on his coat before leaning even closer to Sephiroth, his lips curling into a canine snarl. "That was a nice try, Sephiroth," he hissed. "But it never seems to settle in that worthless brain of yours that none of your ideas will ever work. You thought you'd kill me…or yourself…and be rid of me, is that it? You waste your time…and mine, with these fantasies. Now listen to me, Sephiroth, and listen to me well." He paused for effect, bringing one of his hands into view of that pair of despairing green orbs. It was vividly smudged with blood. "See this? This…is my blood." He pressed his other hand against Sephiroth's chest, drawing some of the precious fluid onto his fingers. "And this is your blood. Our blood is one and the same. That is why…" He struck his son across the face, leaving a vivid, blood-spattered handprint on his pallid skin. "…you will never, EVER be rid of me. Not in life, and never in death. Do you understand that?!"

The heartbroken wails that wracked Sephiroth's slender body were the only reply he could manage. (Does no one hear my pleas? Why am I so hated and uncared-for? The heavens won't even let me escape this pain! What have I ever done? Am I cursed?)

He felt a needle prick his arm, and Mako began to inundate his veins. Before his conscious thoughts waned away completely, he made another vow to himself, one that he wouldn't allow anyone…especially Hojo…to cause to fail this time.

(I couldn't kill him or myself. I broke my own vow. But not this one.) His heart, which had been pierced and should have already been stopped cold, faltered.

(No more. He will not defeat me. Hojo will not see fear in my eyes anymore. But so help me…I will see fear in his.)