Author's Notes: Partner piece to Ananke, kind of assuming that Reeve didn't kill himself in that. Which he did. Sorry. I just had to give him another ending though.

Chronos was the Greek God of time and about Great-Great-Great-Grandfather to Zeus. He was also the husband of Ananke.

Theme: Air

Chronos

His name was Reeve Tuesti. He was nothing more than a meaningless executive in Shin-Ra Inc. He looked after a city and a people that the higher-ups cared nothing for. Looked after it more than he looked after himself. He'd been honorable and kind, self-sacrificing until the very end. An end few would like to think of, splattered all over the sidewalk because the wind had lied in promises of flight.

That was what they would say, part of his mind shouted, trying to talk him off of the ledge up here on the 70th floor. Of course that part of him was obviously losing, seeing as he hadn't moved an inch, not out of indecision, but out of pleasure. It was amazing really, the feeling of standing here, knowing he was but inches from the end. A rush of excitement flowed through him, and for the first time, he really felt like he could control something in his life. Here the wind kissed away his troubles, caressed his body, and beckoned him into it's gentle hold. Up here, despite the frigid chill, he felt warm. Despite the death before him, he felt alive. He was emptied of all care, all pain, living only in this one split second before the next split second, and for once he really felt alive. Nothing and no one could take it away from him.

Now, why the man was here and so hell bent upon his own destruction was a story for another time and another place. But to put it simply, his heart had been broken, his life rendered nearly meaningless. One might say that his was an everyday tale, and that life would most definitely go on. Yet anyone that went through what he did and so recently, they would think the same things he thought most likely. To be in love and lose it just before he was about to admit it, there was no greater pain.

So he had decided, and here he now stood, but inches from the edge of his end. Time would go on and leave no memory of Reeve Tuesti in it's wake, not even in the minds of other people. It was hardly as if he had been noticed or had any real impact upon the world. No one would miss him, and he wasn't sure if he would miss anyone either. Besides, he would return to the lifestream, according to his beliefs, and there was nothing wrong with that.

"Stop," a voice commanded, cutting through the noise that had blocked even Reeve's own mind from itself.

It was one of those moments you think can only happen in the movies, where time itself seems to stand still. The kind of scene where everything stops and the background music comes to the front and you see just one person reaching out to another. It lasts maybe a few seconds and then the action resumes, something intense or amazing or uplifting happening, but it's really only that one moment you remember. This was what it felt like to Reeve, a moment so right that you have to stop and absorb it before moving on. So he did stop, just as the voice commanded.

"And what," the voice continued, just as powerful, just as confident as before, "Do you think you're doing?"

In all honesty, Reeve wasn't quite sure how to answer that. He could tell the truth, but somehow what he thought to be the truth suddenly didn't sound all that true. Something about 'jumping' just didn't seem to fit, as he wasn't actually jumping at the moment. 'Killing myself' wasn't right either, because while it was his intention, the presence of another seemed to kill his motivation. So he gave the only answer he could think of.

"Waiting..."

"For what?"

There was no right way to answer that question, so Reeve ignored the slight command in that tone of voice, and just continued standing where he was.

"I see..."

Once more the wind kicked up, tugging at the corners of Reeve's coat, begging him to fly free with it. Yet the part of him that wanted that small freedom had died with the presence of the voice. He couldn't find it in himself to want to lose his life any more, but at the same time he couldn't say he wanted it. Right now he wasn't quite sure what he wanted, or why he would want it. The one time he really should be decisive, he was far from such.

"You should come down from there," the voice said, closer now than it had been moments before. Reeve wanted to flinch away, wanted to scare the speaker off, but he knew nothing could do that. So once more he held still, unmoving, unmoved, and breaking inside.

"No."

There was a sigh as the speaker slowly climbed up to join him on the ledge. Suddenly Reeve felt ashamed of his place now, looking away and more towards the stone under him than the city before him. Suddenly he was wondering if he was a coward to want to jump, or brave for not doing it yet. More than anything though, he actually wanted to leave the ledge, but for some reason he couldn't find it in him to move. In fact, he couldn't find very much in him, be it emotion, thought or desire.

"You made quite a scene back there Reeve," Tseng started, the Wutain unaffected by the height or wind, even though it was toying with his hair like a cat does with string.

"Yes, I suppose so," the man agreed, running a hand through his hair.

"Granted, not many people are speaking about it, but those that are..."

The younger man easily cut Tseng off, his voice devoid of any emotions at all, "What does it feel like? Being a Turk?"

Even Tseng was thrown off slightly by such a question. How could one answer something like that for a man that was not only timid, but seemingly naive? Naive and wise beyond his years? Admit the horrors, to say it wasn't too bad?

"Empty," Tseng replied just as easily, "Empty. And lonely."

A smirk touched the lips of the executive, though there was no real emotion behind it, his eyes as cold and empty as Tseng's. A hand rose to rest upon his chest, and he turned just the slightest bit to glance at Tseng. "I... Know that very well."

"People wouldn't think you the sort."

"I was just... so close for once. Something other than fear, other than nerves and cowardice. Maybe I would have been rejected, or even hurt, but it's something other than fear and loneliness."

The silence between them was an easy thing, making seconds stretch into what felt like hours. Apparently here you didn't just feel like you could fly, you felt like time really could continue on forever with you just waiting in one moment. There was no time, no pain, no past or future, only this one moment with them. It was almost beautiful, too, the way Tseng's hand found his and squeezed in that perfectly comforting way. So perfect was the eternity of that moment between life and death that when Tseng guided him from the ledge and back onto the actual balcony, Reeve barely noticed.

When he found himself in Tseng's arm's, held close and given a place to cry on that otherwise perfect shoulder, the magic was broken, and everything came flooding back. Anguish, hatred, self-loathing, longing, hope, despair, all cried out on a steady shoulder of a man who was at least willing to listen. And in Tseng's arms he was at least warm, shielded from the empty promises of the wind that would have lead him to his death.

"Reeve... It would not be like you to throw away a friend like him over something like this. Will killing yourself win him over?"

There was nothing to be said, no way to explain himself, so he just shook his head and stood there, sheltered from the world as long as Tseng would let him. He'd have to face the rest of the world soon enough, just not right now. Just not this second. Right now, for this moment in time, he just wanted to feel like there was still some hope for him.