The pain was familiar, a welcome distraction from all of the questions tirelessly swirling around her mind. The bruised cheekbone and split lip had long since been corrected by a cautious Cure cast by strong hands, but the sear from the injuries remained, following Aria into a restless dream. She could only guess that the voice began the moment the lights went dark in the room.
"Good to see you." The dream was black, but she knew the voice.
Her throat closed.
"Cat got your tongue? Or did he bite it off?" A single low laugh. A shiver down her spine. "What a state you're in. Finally get your hands on him, and this is the result? You've weakened. But I guess that happens over time."
"You certainly found out the hard way." She'd fought for the words.
A more sincere laugh. Warmth in her chest.
"You do keep me honest, don't you? Brave girl." Fingertips touched a tender point on her brow bone. She winced, hissed against the fresh pain. "Shh...let me look at you."
A long moment of dark silence passed before she recognized her own hoarse voice in a desperate mantra. "You're not real. You're not real. You're not real."
"Would that be more convenient for you? Do not deny me, Aria…"
She smirked, believing she'd gained control. "You never knew me by that name."
His breath was hot at her ear. "I always knew you by that name."
Her eyes flew open, then squinted against blinding whiteness. They faced one another. He, strong and vibrant as he ever was; she, damaged and struggling to stay upright.
"It was not my secret to tell." Green feline eyes smiled at her.
"Like you would, anyway. Lose me to the lab? You wouldn't stand for it," she heard herself say, a young and playful undertone to her voice. She closed her eyes against his grin, then opened them to a more familiar setting: The training facility in the Midgar Shinra building.
Sephiroth wore a black training uniform, arms bared in the cool, still air. He stood several feet away, head cocked slightly.
"Come on," he taunted.
She turned to the mirrors along the wall and found a slightly younger version of herself looking back, face painted in twenty four tally marks and a blue stream of tears.
"You could have been there. You could have followed him. He got to pull the trigger, as you said. He got to fight. You could have fought, too. What would you have done, I wonder…Guns? Bare hands? No…I know you..."
Her shoulders rolled back with new weight in her hands: Matching blades.
"Come on," he repeated lowering his head.
In a flash, she came within an inch of his face, close enough to see the fine line around the upturned corner of his lips. Before she could sink a blade into his side, he caught her wrist, twisting her arm behind her and crushing it against her back. His free arm wrapped over her chest, holding her by the shoulders. His skin burned against hers, and yet she leaned into it.
"What did you do instead? Slipped away, like you do. Hid out in Cosmo. Watched him leave. Suppressed that little part of you that secretly hoped they would fail."
"You took innocent lives."
She felt him smile into her hair. "You did, too. And I envy you..." He let her go, spinning her back to face him. "You got away with it."
Her arm swung tiredly, but again he caught it and pushed it away as his opposite hand closed on her neck, slamming her back against the mirrors. They crackled as he held her against them, her hands pulling frantically against his grip.
"What will your penance be?" he asked, cryptically calm. "I'm dying to find out…"
He leaned closer, pressing his lips to her cheekbone. The flesh beneath his lips cried out in an ache that spread through the back of her head. She closed her eyes against the lack of oxygen and he released her roughly.
Aria regained her sight on her back, the floor suddenly softer, warmer, far more welcoming than before. It had become a bed in a dimly lit bedroom. Momentarily detached from her body, she watched through eyes she could not control as a wave of silver hair slid across her neck. Sephiroth sat at the edge of the bed, reaching for a glass of red wine on the nightstand.
"Don't think you will draw me in, Marx." This conversation was a memory. She exhaled, momentarily relieved at the predictability.
She knew she'd reply, "Draw you in? You just told me you want to rule the cosmos with me. I'm the one soul of value." Her fingers played with the hair that pooled at his elbow as she sat up. "You've given yourself away with that little joke."
Her chest ached at this memory. He had been the unpredictable, cold brute as they ruined his penthouse in an impromptu fight, but now he was the coy, playful man who had clawed his way into her heart.
"You've let me use your shower. I've seen your soaps. Now I'm in your bed. You've made some implicit promises with this behavior." She edged forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, his borrowed undershirt hanging off of her own. Her hand commandeered his own, pulling the wine glass to her lips. She drained what remained of his drink.
"My soaps, huh? That's the line to be crossed? The point of no return?"
She laughed. "I hope not. I've seen Rufus's, too."
"Of course you have."
"Oh, now. Don't be jealous. That's his job: to envy you for all the attention I give you, all the things you don't let me do to you."
"Poor Rufus," he drawled, the familiar joke now lacking much humor, despite hearing herself laugh. She pulled tighter on his shoulders, bringing him backward onto the bed. She predicted the glass slipping from his hand and shattering on the floor. She predicted her fit of laughter.
"You're out of control," he said, turning his head into the crook of her neck. She ran her fingertips over the four faint lines she had left across his face in their earlier fight. "Enjoying your handiwork?"
"You won't scar. They'll be gone by morning. Thanks to your lovely materia," she teased.
"Ah...you want scars." He stretched his neck, turning his head away. She inspected the base of his neck and smiled.
"Is that really mine? From the reactor?"
He nodded, then turned back to meet her gaze. "I didn't Cure it."
"I'm flattered, you unstable son of a bitch. And here I've Cured away all your attacks on me…"
He laughed at her insult, then rolled toward her, holding her arms at her sides as he sank his teeth into her shoulder. This she could not recall. It felt oddly natural, and yet the scene smelled of danger. His teeth sank further into her skin, drawing blood before she felt her breath catch in her throat. Pulling away, he looked into her face, her blood tinting his lips. "Maybe it's time to wake up."
Aria gasped, bolting upright in the bed. She instinctively held a hand over the pain at her shoulder. Turning to look at the wound, she gazed past it, meeting concerned red eyes.
"You stopped breathing. Were you dreaming?" Vincent asked.
She nodded, a whirlwind of memories settling around her as she slid backward, mirroring Vincent, leaning against the headboard. A deep breath passed between them. Vincent opened his phone, reading a message.
"Reeve is investigating the ruins, Deepground's headquarters."
She nodded, then touched her hand to her head. "Did Rufus hit me with a lamp?"
In response, Vincent simply nodded toward the dresser opposite the bed. On it lay a brass lamp on its side, broken at the base. She sighed and turned back to Vincent, shifting to press herself against his side, her arm wrapping around his stomach, her face against his ribs.
"Why can't I just behave myself?" she asked into his side, feeling his muscle tense in a silent laugh.
"Then what fun would you be?"
"He said some terrible things to me."
"I assumed. And are you still angry?" he asked, allowing her ample time to think over a deceptively simple question. She nuzzled deeper into his side, closing her eyes against his cool body.
"No, I don't think I am."
Vincent nodded, tightening his arm around her shoulders. He dropped his head, his lips meeting her hair. "You have an interesting way of working things out."
In addition to the warm bed, the sense of security, and several rounds of ammunition, Rufus provided a full breakfast to Vincent and Aria before sending them back out into the new dangers that the planet had to offer. He met them at the front door, showing his unmarked face for the first time since the previous evening, a black jacket draped over his forearm.
"I trust you rested well," he said without a trace of animosity.
They both nodded, a twinkle of mischief in Aria's eye easing all the tension in the foyer.
"Reno can take you to the plains of Nibel, but I need him, and the bird, back here. Reports came in over night that Deepground is moving closer to this end of the city. We may need to relocate some residents, and I'll need his help to do so."
"Where will you go?" Aria asked, guessing that he would take no risks himself.
"Junon, if anywhere. I don't know that we're leaving yet. If we do, though, that's the most secure city. We've confirmed Reeve's reports of Deepground activity near Nibel," he added, looking at once to Vincent, then back to Aria, who straightened her shoulders. "I won't ask that you stay in contact. But there is still much we do not know about these people. So...be careful."
Reno opened the front door. Sunlight poured into the foyer.
"We're ready to go when you are," he told Vincent. The gunman nodded and followed him outside immediately. Aria started, then turned back to Rufus. He extended his arm; she took the jacket and held it up in front of her.
"It's a prototype. No blades in the Shinra armory have cut through it. A few bullets have. Waterproof, lightly insulated. Modern chainmail."
"And easy identification…" she remarked, turning the left shoulder's Shinra Incorporated emblem back toward him.
"Sorry. I didn't expect to be handing it to a rebel."
"I appreciate what you've done for us," she said, gesturing toward the house itself, then the gun in her hip holster. As she replaced her old jacket with his new one, he nodded once. She handed him the old garment. "Tseng was right. We were a risk to take in. But you...we are on the right side this time. What you said...I know you were just trying to hurt me. To get back at me for...everything. But I also know there was some truth in it. I wasn't there when you needed me. I wasn't there when Avalanche could have used my help. I have a history of not being there. But I'm here now. I'm going to be there for Vincent, and so long as you stay on the right side of this fight, I'll be there for you." He started to speak, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips. "Whether you think you need me or not."
"Then I look forward to working with you on more even ground."
She nodded and pulled him into a tight embrace that, after a moment of apprehension, he returned.