A/N: First, thank you to the reviewers (miaraith and SugarCubeChibi), and all those that put this story as a favorite and/or on alert. I hope I don't disappoint you with this installment. I have taken some liberties with the characters, the timeline; etc…

Now there's gravel in our voices
glass is shattered from the fight
in this tug of war, you'll always win
even when I'm right
'cause you feed me fables from your hand
with violent words and empty threats
and it's sick that all these battles
are what keeps me satisfied

~September 0002~

Sephiroth leaned back against his black padded headboard ever so gently, taking care not to disturb the man sleeping next to him. Sephiroth reached towards his left and turn on his bedside lamp, causing the room to be flooded in a dim golden glow.

The SOLDIER readjusted his position as he moved a portable writing table over his lap. Taking a quick peek to his right to check that Cloud was still sleeping, he took a deep breath. He did not want to do this. He had to do this. The upcoming missions to retrieve two AWOL SOLDIERs, no former friends, would be risky. Even Sephiroth felt as if this was going to be a life changing event. Something in his very essence vibrated with nervous energy.

Recently ShinRa and the SOLDIER program had suffered many loses. There had been a recent mass defection in the ranks and two of their top SOLDIERS had gone missing and presumed to be traitors to the company. Sephiroth snorted at the idea. Angeal was no traitor; the man lived and breathed honor and loyalty. He was just wrong in his allegiance. Genesis on the other hand, well Sephiroth was glad that he was gone and hoped that he would stay gone. Unfortunately ShinRa didn't feel the same way and demanded that Angeal and Genesis be brought back, dead or alive.

Sephiroth sat there in his comfy bed, platinum colored satin sheets pooled around his hips as he contemplated the task ahead of him. The last letter he may ever write. It was a tradition as old as war itself. Men traveling far beyond their home to fight in wars they really didn't understand always wrote a last letter to be sent home, in case they never did make it back. Sephiroth never took part in this tradition. Not because he didn't want too, a part of him always did with some morbid curiosity. No, he never did this simply because he had no one to write too. Since his earliest memory, he understood what exactly a family was and was not. His "family" was a "was not". He knew nothing of his father and only his mother's name. He would constantly ask HoJo or really anyone that would listen for more information but none was forthcoming.

It was always a favorite way that HoJo tortured him during his visits. If Sephiroth behaved and excelled in whatever brutal tests they had for him, HoJo would tell him about his mother. Young Sephiroth fell for it each and every time. HoJo would always wait until the last moment and tell Sephiroth that he was a disappointment and failed and he would learn nothing.

Sephiroth shook his head, trying to shake the memory that his pensive thoughts stirred. Maybe that's why he clung to Angeal and Genesis once they arrived at ShinRa. He saw how the boys interacted with each other, and he wanted to experience something like that. No, he wanted to be part of their family.

Sighing, Sephiroth took a few sheets of crisp white paper and began writing.

'My Darling Cloud,'

He sat there for a moment, thinking. What exactly did he want to say to his young love? He knew everything there was about Cloud. His likes and dislikes, what life was like for him growing up, what he wanted in the future, everything. On the other hand, Cloud only knew what Sephiroth wanted him to know, and what the media let everyone know. Yes, Cloud knew he was loved and cherished but he knew nothing about what made Sephiroth into the man he loved and idolized.

Closing his eyes, Sephiroth reached out to Cloud with his right hand and slowly ran it through the blonde's hair. Cloud stirred and snuggled deeper into the caress.

"Please Goddess, let me come back so he never reads these words." He whispered into the stillness of the bedroom.

'If you are given this then I have failed in my objective to the company but most importantly, I have failed you. I swore than as long as I lived I would keep you safe. That above all is what I wish for but if my death be the price for your life and safety, then I will gladly and most willingly lay upon Masamune.

I only wish that I could leave you with something more than mere words on a page. I would try to say that I would give you my heart, but you've had that for a long time; longer than I have ever let you be aware of. Sadly, where it is only words, I will endeavor to make the most of them with saying the most important thing I have ever and will ever say. I love you.

There have been many questions and I chose to evade every single one of your questions, but the time has come and you do deserve answers.

No Cloud, I do not know what my birthday is, nor do I know who my father is. I spent my childhood living in isolation and being observed. I only know that my mother's name was Jenova. She was said to be a beautiful woman, but I never saw a picture of her. I was informed that she died during childbirth. I guess my destiny was preordained. I came into this world with blood on my hands, the death of an innocent woman and I will eventually go to life stream with the blood of even more innocent people on my hands and conscious. War is filled with beautiful and grotesque carnage.

Zackary is learning that being a hero is not all there is. To be someone's hero, you must also be another person's villain.

Professor Gast was my hero growing up, and in turn HoJo was the villain. I don't have many fond memories of my early youth. Most of the memories I do have include being subjected to rigorous experiments being done on my mental and physical stamina. There were days that I would not be fed or deprived of sleep, just to see how my body would react. Professor Gast, when he would make his infrequent appearances would be there to protect me. I honestly believe he thought what he did would help, but it would only infuriate HoJo and in turn his next round of testing on me would be harsher. But, thanks to Prof. Gast I first learned what a comforting and caring touch was. I sometimes wished that Prof. Gast was my father and he would take me away, but that never happened.

My teenage years were made somewhat easier. I was given my own apartment; it wasn't seemly to have the child killer of Wutai be living in a lab. I had my own privacy and for the first time on my own. I learned how to function by trial and error. When Hollander came to Midgar with Angeal and Genesis, I was more than elated. There were boys around my age that showed the same promise as me. I believe that you and Angeal would have enjoyed each other's company. He was a man of loyalty and honor; I see those qualities in you. The fact that only you and he could tolerate and handle Zackary is a positive.

Genesis on the other hand…~

Sephiroth paused and looked up from the page he was writing on. Genesis. Just the name elicited a storm of emotions in him. Love, hate, fear and self-loathing to name a few. How to tell Cloud something that he, the mighty General of ShinRa, couldn't even say to himself? Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Cloud had rolled over sometime during his writing. His back was now facing the silver haired man and Sephiroth just stared at the sleeping form. Clenching his teeth hard, he bit back tears that were threatening to spill over. SOLDIERs didn't cry, but he was more than that, he was a man that had been used and broken by those he loved and he foolishly thought they loved him back.

Recovering himself, he went back to writing. Cloud deserved to know everything. Not just the gossip that still lingered years later. Running his fingers through his hair, Sephiroth thought about how to word the next part. He knew that no one would read this letter other than Cloud. He had approached Tseng earlier about it. Even though the man was Wutain and a Turk, there was a mutual respect. Tseng had lost someone in the battles of Wutai. He lost a comrade, a fellow Turk. His lover. Tseng understood the necessity of what Sephiroth was doing. Say everything before it's too late. Tseng had given him is vow that if the seemingly impossible happened, he would personally deliver the missive to Cloud and only him.

~present day~

Cloud laid the letter down on the desk and exhaled a deep breath. He ran his fingers through his spikes, slightly tugging on them. He learned over the passing years some of Sephiroth's beginnings but the way he talked about it in his letter was… disturbing. It was almost that clinical sort of way Sephiroth spoke on occasion.

ShinRa did it's best to keep certain secrets hidden but Cloud remembered the nights that Sephiroth woke up in a cold sweat, screaming out for someone or something to stop until Cloud was sure the General's throat was raw. When Cloud would try to soothe Sephiroth, he would flinch and pull away and not answer. Cloud never pressed him, maybe he should have Cloud thought. Should've, would've, could've.

Having a feeling that things were only going to get worse, Cloud pulled open the top draw to the desk and pulled out one of the flasks he confiscated from Reno. Opening the cap, he sniffed the contents. Whiskey. Cloud put the cold metal to his lips and tilted his head back to take a quick swallow. Not satisfied with the immediate result, he repeated the motion. He wiped his chin with the back of his right hand as he was screwing the cap back on. Instead of placing the flask into the draw, he left it on the desk as he hunched back over the letter. Holding it up with one hand as the other continually dragged through his hair.