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So long. We wish you well. You told us how you weren't afraid to die. Well then, so long. Don't cry or feel too down. Not all martyrs see divinity, but at least you tried.

Eulogy - Tool

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She didn't want to awaken. She didn't want to leave this place so devoid of pain, of sorrow. She was safe here, she knew; beyond this void lay the reality she wanted to forget. And so she ignored all her senses telling her of touch, of sound, and let the dark waters of her subconscious wash over her. It would be so simple to remain here, forever adrift in the nothingness, away from all feeling, able only to exist. For how long she remained thus was impossible to tell. Something begin to tug at her, incessant, repetitive, trying to pull her from her wherever she lay deep within the recesses of her mind. She couldn't ignore this; it had knew where she was hiding. Eventually it grew louder, more defined, and she knew it for what it was.

The Planet.

There were no words, no single sound. It was a merger of voices, a harmonious chiming cadence which roused her from her almost catatonic state. She didn't want to hear it, didn't want to know what it had to say. She was so very weary of it all. If she listened to what it told her, if she did as it bid, she would enter that place she had begun to hate; the place of pain, and suffering, and hopelessness. Better then to succumb to the peace, to the emptiness. The Planet refused to let her, pushing harder, growing louder. Against her will, she felt awareness flood through her, felt the ground beneath her and the chill air around her. A crackling sound; the dance of a fire. She cried out, silently, and fought to stay where she was safe ...

With an abrupt surge, the Planet rose within her, scolding her, bringing her to consciousness. She gasped at the feeling, and her eyes fluttered open.

Dark. It was dark but for the shifting pale orange light cast by the fire she knew was there. Where was she? She dare not move, and closed her eyes again as she searched her memory for what had happened last, what had sent her fleeing inside herself. She found the memories then, and inwardly balked at the emotions they evoked. Foremost was regret, regret that she hadn't succeeded at taking her own life, regret that she was still here in this world. Her body reacted to the emotions; she felt then the abrasive soreness around her neck where the noose had wrought life from her. She inhaled, and winced slightly. Her lungs, from the exertion of trying to get air when there was none, hurt with the breath. A whimper of utter misery rose and caught in her throat as the onslaught of realization and pain thundered through her.

She wished she were dead.

"You are awake?"

At the sound of that voice, his voice, she opened her eyes again. Of course he would be here, of course he would prevent her suicide. He invoked within her so very many things; hatred and confusion and stark abject terror. The resignation she had known before was nothing compared to what settled within her very soul now.

It took her several tries to respond; her throat was sore and closed. When she finally managed to speak, she could do so in no more than a cracked whisper. "Yes."

Movement then; turning her head she could see him on the opposite side of the fire, knees drawn to his chest with his back against the tree. They had not, she suddenly realized, left the group of trees they had previously made camp in. Her eyes wandered the surroundings before returning to him. His head was cocked to the side; his eyes, so reflective in the firelight, were intense in their regard. After a moment, he asked, "Why?"

His question was unexpected. He wondered why she had made the choice she had, why she had tried to take her own life. It took her several moments to formulate a response. "It was the only thing left for me to do." She said haltingly, struggling to use her voice. He did not reply, and unable to bear the scrutiny of his gaze she turned her own skyward. There were no stars this night. The moon, almost full and hidden behind clouds, gave no illumination. She missed the stars, wanted to see them for some inexplicable reason. The bitter longing brought swift tears to her eyes and she blinked them furiously back. Things would be so much easier, she thought then, if only I did not feel.

"You are crying."

She could not help the harsh laugh that escaped her at his remark. It left her breathless and coughing, and she struggled into a sitting position in order to breathe more easily. She was crying now, tears of pain mingling with tears of anguish. How she hated him! But she could not uphold her fury, and it faded quickly, falling back into the gaping void that was her soul. "Yes." she said thickly, raising a hand to wipe the wetness from her face.

"You have much to cry for."

She looked at him then, sharply. Missing were the sarcastic and icy undertones in his voice. His words were plain, without malice. He caught her eyes; held them with his own. His next sentence astonished her.

"I am sorry."

Silence for a long span. Trying to comprehend what he'd just said, and if he were serious, she shook her head. He continued, his voice quiet. "I am sorry for what I've done; some of it. I am sorry for the pain I've caused you."

"You -" She said, her breath catching. "What is this?"

"An apology," he said simply.

She started to laugh in cold disbelief, but it caught in her throat. She began to choke, spasming coughs racking her frame as her battered airway struggled to function. He was beside her in a swift movement, skirting the fire to crouch by her side. He placed his hands on her back and shoulder, supporting her. When the coughing had passed, he withdrew his hands, but did not leave her side. Confusion was now the foremost of her emotional responses. What game was he playing now?

As if knowing her thoughts, he began to speak softly. "What I've said, I said in all seriousness. I am sorry for all I've done to you."

As much as she didn't want to, she had to look at him then. The question which passed her lips was the same he had asked her earlier.

"Why?"

And in his eyes she saw then bewilderment to match her own. "I don't know."

Silence fell. She studied him, searching for a sign that this was a cruel jest, that he was in fact toying with her as he has so often thoughtlessly done. It struck her suddenly as her eyes perused his form; something was irrefutably and inexplicably different about him. His face illuminated by the flickering flames, seemed softer somehow, less arrogant. Even his eyes, always glowing, were devoid of their iciness, their cold hostility. She was frightened by this change and she didn't know why; with a sudden movement she was on her feet and away from him. He didn't follow, but watched her from where he crouched.

"I cannot explain it to you; you would not understand. Things have changed, I have changed, and you must realize that."

"And what," she asked him in blatant disbelief, "does this change mean? Will you let me go? Let me go back to my friends, my home?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Why not? If you're sorry as you say you are, let me go."

"I cannot." He stood, casting his shadow in the firelight. "You must come with me still, to see Mother -"

"To go to my death!" She shouted hoarsely; enraged, terrified. "Nothing has changed!"

"It has." He said calmly. "You won't be harmed. I'll see to it. Mother will understand that this is how it must be."

She shook her head. "You lie. I will be used and cast aside."

"No," he replied, shaking his own head. He took a step closer, and she fell back. "I won't let that happen."

She stared at him wildly. She was more afraid of this Sephiroth than she was of the other. Her heart was pounding wildly, and her chest felt tight. What was this? What had happened so tremendous to have wrought such a transformation? As she struggled with her thoughts and emotions he took another step, and then another, until he stood directly before her.

"Believe me when I say I'm sorry," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Aerith."

Her name. Astonishing, the sound of her name coming from him. She could not react, could not summon her wits enough to respond. Her eyes, regarding him wide and shining, were swirling with apprehension. He saw this, and when he reached out a hand to her face it was gentle and steady. She pulled away then, but he shook his head again, and moving so swiftly she hadn't time to react he enfolded her in his embrace. She went stiff, her body unyielding. He did not loosen his hold, however, and instead lay his cheek against the softness of her hair.

"I hated it." He said. "I hated the way I was attracted to you. I hated the fact that I felt guilty for hurting you. I even hated you a little for doing this to me, for invading my thoughts and never leaving. But as much as I tried to banish what I felt, it would not leave."

She strained against his hold, against the nonsense he was saying. His grip was iron, however, and she could not free herself.

"Let me have this. Let me have this moment." He whispered against her hair.

Aerith closed her eyes. She knew what he was talking about, knew it even better because she had felt it herself. She had ignored it, denied it because it terrified her. That terror was fully realized now. Her breath left her in resignation, and she allowed herself to relax in his arms, closing her eyes. Startled, not expecting this, he went rigid for a moment. Then he pulled her closer, held her tighter, and closed his own eyes to savor what he never thought he would experience, and what he was afraid he would never experience again. Over his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of stars as their light flickered through the evening clouds. They were faint, as if fighting for the right to shine this night, and at the sight she could hold on no further. The tenuous hold she had on her emotions snapped. Rasping sobs shook her form as she wept shamelessly, silently, into his shoulder. One of his hands crept up to lightly stroke her hair. She let him; it was comforting, and that was something she needed in this reality spiralling so out of control. She cried as though her heart were breaking; perhaps it was. There was an ache within her, an icy void that felt as though it were growing with every second, consuming her from the inside out.

He held for her a long time, neither moving nor speaking. And when her tears had ceased and her trembling eased, she did not pull away. She let herself remain within his grasp, letting herself just this once to forget who he was, and why they were together. Standing like this here, in his arms; it was easy to feel protected, secure. Too easy, but she would not dwell on that. Not tonight. Eventually Sephiroth moved, gently trying to extricate himself, pulling away to save her whatever awkwardness she might feel. But she resisted, clasping his shoulders, and with a startled look she could not see he complied her urgent, unspoken request, gathering her closer.

She needed to be held. She needed his embrace.

At least, she told herself, knowing she was lying, for tonight.