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Sepsis	By : ladysanzennine Category: Final Fantasy VII > Het - Male/Female > Sephiroth/Aerith Views: 2066 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Don't own ff7. Don't make money off it.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 11
- 12
- 13
Sepsis
Chapter 12
By Lyralina Sanzennine
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 is property of Square Enix.
He'd carried her back to the house, despite her protests that she was perfectly capable of walking. He'd ignored her words, scooped her up, and flown them back.
The fireplace had been restocked and a dead creature awaited them on the table. A blast of fire later and he'd left her alone with her dinner without a word.
Aeris sat by the fire and tried to think. She wished desperately that she could hear the Planet in her mind. Never in all her life had she found herself so unguided and…alone.
She didn’t know how to act or what to do or say.
Was she here to fight him? How could she fight him without weapons or materia? She had nothing on hand.
Stall him, then? Until Cloud and everyone could find him and deal with him themselves? That didn’t make any sense! Why would he be hiding from AVALANCHE in the first place? Didn’t he consider that beneath him?
Where were her friends, anyways? Were they looking for her? Would Cloud know she was alive?
Idiot. Cloud’s the reason he’s keeping you here. You know that.
Because there couldn’t be any other reason. All the time he’d devoted to her. All the…gentleness.
Carefully scripted and executed gentleness.
He’s using you. You know that. He’s going to throw this into Cloud’s face.
Right. There was no other feasible explanation for any of this. She could clearly see his maneuvering and manipulation. Excellently conducted, at that.
But still…still…what was it that she couldn’t shake? That niggling at the back of her soul. Images and feelings firmly connected to him. Memories of screaming terror and blood-red vision and dancing shadows on distorted walls. Then him, always him, holding her, a silent sentinel at her side.
Lying sentinel.
Shut up already.
She could be honest with herself in this moment. He was intriguing. An enigma. Pale and sweet and dark and terrifying. The concealed, leashed menace drew her in. Moth to flame.
There it is, right there. Perfect analogy. You’ll be burned.
I’m already dead. This isn’t really life. Transient, necessary period of half-existence, sent on a mission. What does it matter then?
What did it matter?
The mission mattered.
What was the mission?
Fix him?
That’s ridiculous. And suicidal.
What was it about the “bad boy” type anyway? She thought about it a moment and retracted the thought. The words bad boy and Sephiroth together made her cringe. It was just wrong. And she doubted he’d be too pleased if he ever heard it out loud. Alright then, the wrong type of man. The evil type. The danger.
The excitement. Like diving off of a cliff into deep waters below. There was the thrill and the rush of blood, the furious pace of the heart.
She could feel it even now, thinking about him and remembering their encounters. The underlying fear, not knowing what could be coming next. Not knowing if he’d drop the mask, turn threatening and mad, throw her against the wall again.
Bad direction, Aeris. Now you’re in trouble
But that was the truth, plain and simple. All the myriad reasons she was still here, in this house, in this room, aside from practicality. That is, her inability to really do anything else.
Alright, so you’re attracted to him, you sick, stupid girl. Don’t dwell on it. Think! What to do?
What could she do? She was stuck, that much was obvious. No way around it.
Back to plan A, fix him.
Inwardly, she laughed to herself. Words. It was the words that were funny. The phrasing of that thought. But down to the core, it wasn’t that farfetched of an idea. She had been deliberately sent here to him. Why? Certainly not to up and leave at the first opportunity. That wouldn’t be a very sensible plan.
And besides, even if there was a way to escape him, she knew that Jenova wouldn’t allow her to get very far. The alien cells in her body were the only things allowing her to continue breathing, just as they kept him alive. At any time, She could squeeze down on her nerves again and engage in as much torture as She desired. But She’d been strangely silent since the last time.
Behind her, the bedroom door creaked open. In the sea of sheets wrapped around her body and draped across the floor, she twisted unthinkingly towards the sound. He filled the frame of the door, dressed to eerie perfection in his customary battle gear.
In his arms, he was carrying a pile of clothing. Red and pink.
She looked at him quizzically.
“As lovely as the sheets are, I thought you’d like something a bit different after all these days,” he said.
“What is it?” she asked.
He held up the clothing for her inspection. A red dress, soft, clingy. It looked like it would be flattering on her without being overstated.
She blinked in surprise at it. “Where did you get that?”
A small smile touched his lips. “Ask me no questions,” he replied.
And I’ll tell you no lies, she mentally supplied.
“Come here,” he quietly commanded. He draped the garment across one arm and extended the other towards her.
Without thinking, she stood, her arms carefully holding the sheets close to her body. She hesitated, trying to understand herself and him, failing.
He took a step towards her, slowly. Unthreateningly.
“Why?” she asked, suspicion manifest in her voice.
“Have I ever answered that question to date?” he answered, taking another step towards her.
“You’re dressing me up,” she stated flatly stepping towards him.
He nodded once. His gaze never left hers.
“I’m not your doll,” she said.
He smirked at that. “I do believe you are whatever I want you to be. For the time being, at least. But you are welcome to stay in those sheets if you wish.” Step. Step.
She tilted her head to the side, appearing to think it over. “No, you’re right,” she conceded. “I would like something a bit different.” She took the last step so that only a foot of empty space separated them. And in that moment she made a decision.
She would stay. She would enjoy it. And she would show him the truth, and bring the long story of his life and his destruction to a close. As for how she would do all that, well, she’d still have to figure out the details. Talk to him, gain his trust. Insight into his mind. And she would start now.
His free hand, gloved as always, came up slowly to the juncture between her jaw and the column of her neck. Just beneath her ear. Leather stroked her skin gently, sliding down from throat to shoulder, where the edge of the plain white sheet lay. Goosebumps rose over her skin.
“What are you doing? She asked softly.
“Undressing you,” he responded.
He tugged gently at the fabric that covered her and she relaxed her arms so that the cloth fell away from her body to pool between their feet.
His gaze remained trained on her as he removed his gloves and tossed them on the bed. He slowly swept her up and down with his gaze and Aeris fought to stop herself from fidgeting under his intimate scrutiny.
He held the dress out to her and she took it wordlessly. She found the zipper, quickly pulled it down and stepped into the body of the dress. The fabric was cool and luxurious against her warm skin. It stretched slightly, strategically, to cling and drape to the best effect.
He’d stepped behind her. She felt his uncovered hand brush the back of her shoulder, the other taking gentle hold of one sleeve of the dress. Carefully, he guided the material over her hand, up the length of her arm to rest just under the curve of her shoulder. He stepped in, pressing his body against her side before pulling on the other sleeve. His fingers trailed down her spine, and she shivered underneath them until they reached the zipper, just above her tailbone. He slowly pulled it up, shutting the garment around her body.
She looked down at herself, trying to assess how she looked. The vain side of her wished she had a mirror. It fit her well. Off-shoulder, slim, elegant.
She turned to face him and said “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
His eyes dipped down to study her, lingering on the plunging neckline. “You’re welcome,” he replied.
Drawing in a deep breath, she asked uncertainly, “Now what? I don't suppose you have shoes for me too?” She shifted from one foot to the other.
He placed his hand on her upper arm and stepped in so that she automatically stepped back. A couple paces in the same direction and she felt the frame and mattress of the bed come up against the back of her legs. The slightest pressure of his hand against her shoulder and she sat, puzzled, on the edge of the bed.
This was it, exactly. The anticipation of his movements. The uncertainty of his intentions. The fact that he was entirely capable of doing anything he chose, but hopefully wouldn’t. Or would. Her pulse quickened. She waited for him to move.
He kissed her, softly. Aeris's eyes fluttered closed of their own accord.
He straightened and replaced his gloves before extending a hand and pulling her up from her perch on the bed.
“No shoes," he said. "I prefer you barefoot."
That pissed her off. "Of all the Neanderthal-" she started to say, but before she could finish the thought, he tossed her into the air. She yelped in surprise before being caught in his arms. He carried her out of the room where he picked up what appeared to be a picnic basket from the table before pulling her through the front door. The perpetual winter chill outside of the shell house hit her with a blast of icy wind and she curled closer to his chest automatically, shivering and wrapping her arms around herself.
In the next instant, they were airborne. As Sephiroth shifted the angle of his body so that he flew parallel to the distant ground below, Aeris recalled snippets of her last dream. Inwardly, she shuddered and tried to push the images from her mind. Not only the memories of Jenova and twisted psychosis, but the tender recollections of him as well. They were dangerous. A distorted adaptation of reality she couldn’t afford to dwell on. If she allowed dreams to further taint the already filtered truth, she would lose this game without question.
She couldn’t tell where they were flying. The sun was high in its trajectory. A clean day. Lovely, save for the chill. The cloud formations passed steadily overhead, and the only sound she heard through the journey was the wind rushing over her ears, madly stirring her hair and his. Neither spoke, preoccupied with their own thoughts.
As she felt him begin to descend, she turned her head to look down and away from him to take in the breathtaking view of the bluff below. The grass wasn’t lush; slightly yellowed and straggly, but here on this southern finger of the Northern Continent, just outside of the lifeless circumference surrounding the crater, there was, at least, some sort of life.
The grassy cliff ended abruptly, dropping off to deadly-looking rocks below and crashing waves from the clear ocean. White, foamy crests surged rhythmically against the cliff face and the faint cries of gulls sounded in the distance.
Sephiroth’s feet touched down gently on the grass, just a scant few feet from the edge of the cliff, and set Aeris down.
“What do you think?” he asked from behind her as she gazed out at the ocean.
A moment passed before she answered him. “Beautiful,” she said quietly, her voice nearly drowned out by the sound of water below. “Thank you for bringing me here.” She shivered again and shifted on her feet. Even the southern part of the continent was cold, and the wind blowing off the water worsened the matter.
“Cold?” he whispered teasingly at her ear.
She turned to glare at him in response. Then she felt his arm wrap gently around her waist to pull her back against him before he lowered them both to the ground, his leather jacket in his free hand. Once she was seated on the grass, between his legs and arms, he tossed the discarded coat over her body. She was sandwiched between him and his clothing.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked him, her brow furrowed. It was disconcerting to be with him like this, outside in the dry winter air, with his chest warm and bare against her.
“No,” he said, “Soldiers are resilient.”
The basket lay at his hip and he nonchalantly reached over and flipped open the top, one hand still resting against Aeris’s body. He withdrew a bottle of wine – the cork had been removed and replaced beforehand – glasses and wrapped sandwiches.
The surrealism of the situation struck Aeris hard enough that she shook her head slightly, as if the motion would clear away the strangeness of the situation and the world would return to some semblance of normalcy. No such luck. She was still comfortable ensconced in the lap of the man who’d killed her in cold blood, as he poured red wine into a pair of delicate crystal glasses perched by his knee with one hand. He withdrew a plate from the basket and placed it on the ground before unwrapping one sandwich and setting it on the plate.
Aeris blinked.
Sephiroth handed her one of the glasses, which she gingerly took. He raised the other glass and clinked it gently against hers.
“Cheers,” he said, before taking a sip. Silently, still unsure of how to handle the situation, she drank from her own glass with downcast eyes. The waves below broke the silence between them, but not much else.
He held the sandwich. She took a bite and pulled up his coat to cover more of her body against the ocean breeze. He took a bite and returned the sandwich to the plate. Both chewed wordlessly.
Aeris watched the white waves below and the way the sun glinted off the water’s rough surface, thinking. How to broach the subject? A good offence. Maybe just take it head on and startle him.
She took a deep breath and said, “Sephiroth, you’re not an Ancient.”
He didn’t respond immediately and she held her breath in anticipation. She waited for him to react, half afraid, half simply curious. When it came, she could only blink in shock.
“Of course,” he said.
When she turned to look at him, she saw a small smile flit across his lips. For a moment they simply stared at each other. Aeris’s mind was blank.
“Ah,” she breathed. Next move. She tried to rally her thoughts against him. She sighed and looked down. “You aren’t the son of gods either. You’re as human now, still, as your mother was.” If he knew about Lucrecia, if he knew of his human heritage, history and blood, surely he wouldn’t-
“There, you are wrong,” he said calmly. “I am as alien to this world now as Mother has always been. But I know you refer to the woman who birthed me.”
Aeris gaped at him. “You know of Lucrecia?” she asked in shock.
“Of course,” he said again, “The brilliant, overlooked scientist-wife of my father,” he sneered slightly at the last.
“But,” she stammered, “How can you do all-”
“Your concepts of filial piety mean nothing to me,” he interrupted, his voice never rising from its soft volume. “Lucrecia may have carried me to term, but our association ends there. Mother is a part of me as I am a part of Her. What better definition of family can you possibly provide?”
Aeris sucked in a sharp breath. “Lucrecia loved you as her child. She mourned the fact that she never got a chance to hold you, long after her own death. Jenova’s just…” she trailed off, scrambling for words. She wrapped her arms tight around her body, wishing that the dress she wore covered more skin. “She’s just using you,” she finished, shaking, both from fear and increasing anxiety. This wasn’t going at all as she’d envisioned it.
Sephiroth sighed and pulled her closer into his embrace. His bare skin was warm against her shoulder, even though by all rights he should have been icy to the touch.
“Incorrect again,” he whispered. “Would you like me to enlighten you?”
Aeris could only nod.
“Mother and I share a,” he paused, “Symbiotic relationship. As for your first point, Lucrecia’s dear human love for her son is questionable at best. You speak of a woman who offered her progeny for untried genetic experiments with extremely high chances of complications.”
“She tried to escape,” Aeris countered.
“Part way into the pregnancy, when she suddenly grew a human conscience. Yes.”
He stopped to drink from his glass and take a bite of the sandwich. He offered it to her and she ate too, only to fill the silence. She swallowed heavily and washed it down with a large gulp of wine before speaking again.
“You don’t approve of Lucrecia’s actions, and yet you do all this,” she said with a slight fluttering gesture. “Why can’t you see the wrongness in that?” she took a breath. “Why can’t you see your own evil when you can see hers?”
He didn’t miss a beat, grinning down at her with perfect, gleaming teeth. His face appeared more shadowed now; the darkness beneath his eyes more pronounced.
“Evil is a point of view,” he said. “You see my actions as immoral. Against the natural order. I do not.”
Aeris opened her mouth but he spoke again before she could.
“How do you see your own actions?” he asked her.
“What do you mean?”
“You claim my ambitions are evil. How do you classify your own?”
She turned her eyes up towards him, shifted in his embrace and held his gaze. “Everything I do is for the Planet,” she spoke with quiet conviction. “The Lifestream and the power that sustains Gaea. Serving Creation is by nature and definition, good.”
“And if Creation itself spawned from pre-defined wickedness?” he asked.
“I have no reason to believe that’s the case,” she replied readily. “Philosophically, yes, if the world was originally created by evil, then I too would be evil.” She shrugged at that. “But I’ve known the Planet intimately and I’ve lived in the Promised Land, and I know with absolute certainty that they are good."
He nodded with a strange smile of his own. “Ah,” he agreed, “But isn’t it interesting how humans find it easier to believe that the good world birthed evil men, rather than men being borne of an evil world.”
“I believe that if you simply watch Creation, you’ll see that that isn’t the case. There is so much goodness around us, Sephiroth. You’ll see,” she said softly, confidently. She could now see the task laid clearly in front of her and she was determined. Impulsively, spurred by the intense sadness that pierced her for him, she snuggled closer to his body, eyes closed. She lifted one arm to rest her palm against his collarbone.
“I believe the exact opposite,” he stated with a smirk. His arrogance was unshakeable. “But yes, we will see.”
Battle lines drawn, they finished their humble meal in silence, both gazing down at the surf below. Cresting waves thrown against immoveable rock.
- 11
- 12
- 13
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Sepsis