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Final Fantasy VII: Angelic Threnody	By : DarkSeraphim1 Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1315 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core, Before Crisis, or Dirge of Cerberus. I do not profit from the writing and/or posting of this fic. I am just a humble fan paying tribute to another's wonderful creations.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Chapter Seventeen
       ‘My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey in my own salvation, and your eternal slumber.’ -Loveless, Act IV
            “This is impossible, yo.”
            Sephiroth cast a sharp glance at the young Turk currently lounging on the sofa in his office. “Shut up and keep looking,” he ordered curtly, going back to the file he was currently perusing. “They have to be here somewhere.”
            Cloud yawned as he stretched from his place on the floor, Sephiroth’s own personal laptop open on the low coffee table before him. “They’re here,” he agreed with tired determination. “We just have to find them.”
            Reno sighed dramatically. “I’m going cross-eyed, yo. Can’t we take a break?”
            A low growl was Sephiroth’s only response as he shifted in his own chair. They’d been sifting through Hojo’s files for the better part of four hours, and so far, all they’d discovered was that was that one of Cloud’s friends from his time in Avalanche was being held in Hojo’s laboratory on the 67th floor. It was the half-Gi creature with the flame-tipped tail whose Gaia-drawn abilities had helped Strife defeat him—Jenova—numerous times during Meteorfall. They had made plans to free Red XIII, or Nanaki, as Cloud called him, but they had to wait until Hojo had left the lab for the night to break into it.
            Once free, Cloud was going to send him to the Ancient with a message. With any luck, the girl would be smart enough to heed Strife’s request, and to hide herself until Rufus was in the President’s chair and Hojo had been disposed of. If not, they would have to come up with another solution, such as sending Zack, who could charm anyone regardless of their sex or persuasion, to convince her to leave the city.
            Sephiroth frowned at the thought. After Angeal’s death, Zack had clung to the girl as though she were a lifeline. He had fallen deeply in love with her, even though he’d never stopped mourning Angeal. Sephiroth had to admit that he was hesitant to introduce the two, because he feared that it would create problems between his two friends. It would be disastrous if Zack were to leave Angeal for her. As strong as Angeal Hewley undoubtedly was, he had his weaknesses. Sephiroth knew from personal experience that Zack was one of his biggest ones.
            He sighed quietly and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much to consider, so many angles to contemplate, that he was beginning to question his ability to pull this off. His relationship with Genesis was in shambles, Hollander was no closer to finding a cure for the degradation, and he knew that he couldn’t trust Rufus. His only allies were a mouthy young Turk with wandering hands, and a SOLDIER failure who had killed him three times already. Little wonder he was having doubts, he told himself caustically.
            “Are you all right?”
            He opened his eyes to find Cloud watching him with a solemn expression. “I’m fine,” he snapped, and then sighed again. “Truly, I am well. I’m just... concerned about the situation.”
            “You’re stressed, yo.” Reno smiled slowly as he added, “I could take care of that for you, baby.”
            Cloud winced as Sephiroth’s eyes iced over. “Reno, you might want to give it a rest,” he muttered uncomfortably. He glanced at his nemesis again, who’s jaw was clenched so tightly that a muscle spasmed in it, and shook his head. “He’s just kidding, Sephiroth. Rufus would kill him if he caught him messing with you.”
            “It’d be totally worth it, yo.”
            “Reno, would you shut up!”
            “What I’d say, yo?”
            Sephiroth listened to them as they bickered, his anger melting away, only to replaced by something akin to amusement. Cloud was interacting with Reno in much the same manner as he always had with Zack. Obviously, the two had become friends, probably drawn together by their shared desire to save those they cared for. Why Reno cared about his cold, callous, manipulative employer was a mystery to Sephiroth, but care he did, enough to make the trip back through time to save him. Perhaps, there was more to Rufus than met the eye, or more likely, Reno was simply as big an idiot as Sephiroth had always believed. Either way, they did need his assistance, questionable though it undoubtedly was.
            Sephiroth’s PHS rang--his standard-issue one, not the new untraceable one--and he flipped it open with a snap. “Sephiroth,” he answered flatly.
            “Hey, Seph, it’s Angeal. Genesis’ helicopter just touched down. He’s home.”
            “Home,” Sephiroth echoed, his voice little more than a stunned whisper. “But I thought he would be returning this weekend?”
            “They wanted to give him a little time to rest up before the press conference, so they let him come back early.” Angeal paused, and Sephiroth could picture his frown as he asked, “Didn’t he tell you?”
            “It must have slipped my mind,” Sephiroth lied hollowly.
            There was a longer pause this time. “Sephiroth, is there something you’re not telling me?”
            He winced inwardly at the stern, almost parental tone of the question. He had forgotten how tenacious Angeal could be when it came to those he cared for. “Angeal, I--” He hesitated, the temptation to confide in his solid, reliable friend nearly overwhelming. He cleared his throat and thrust the impulse away. Angeal was Genesis’ friend first, always. “I’m afraid that I am tied up in a meeting at the moment. Please, give Genesis my regards, as well as my congratulations. I will see you both later, Angeal.”
            “Seph--”
            Sephiroth closed the phone with a snap, setting it on the desk as carefully as he could, as he fought the urge to hurl it across the room. Genesis was back three days early, and he hadn’t had the time to properly prepare for it. He realized that his hands were fisted so tightly that they ached and forced them open. He laid them flat on the desk, drawing a deep breath as he forced his unruly emotions to calm.
            Genesis was home! a part of him cried in a frenzy of joy. Sephiroth could only smile sadly at that. He didn’t know if it was the child in him that reacted with such utter delight, the young man that Genesis and Angeal had worked so hard to befriend, or if it was merely the part of his heart that Genesis had always occupied that caused such feelings within him. Unfortunately, it did not matter.
            All too soon, he would have to see Genesis, speak to him, see those too-blue eyes with their fire firmly banked, and pretend that they were nothing more than friends. Sephiroth didn’t know if he could do it.
            Perhaps, it was time to end their friendship, once and for all. His heart screamed a protest so loud that he gasped with the pain of it, but he forced himself to think about the situation logically. He was doing all that he could to save Genesis, to make his life better, to make him happy. He didn’t necessarily have to be a part of his life to do that. Would it not be better to cut the ties now, and let him go to live that life as he so chose?
            No.
            That single word resonated through him, originating somewhere in the vicinity of his heart, and Sephiroth frowned with dismay. His instincts were clamoring for him to take action, to do something—anything—to keep Genesis with him. He didn’t know what he should do anymore, and he positively loathed being indecisive. He hadn’t been designed for self-sacrifice, nor had he been raised to be selfless, and it went against all that he was to sit back and do nothing while his world fell apart around him.
            But he was doing something, Sephiroth reminded himself. He was allowing Hollander to run his tests every night in the hope that he would find a cure for Genesis’ degradation. He was on the verge of dividing the command of SOLDIER, which would benefit them all in the long run. He was plotting a coup that would put a competent man in the President’s chair, assuring that Shinra would survive should he fail in his chosen mission, and that Genesis would always have a place here. He had three young boys to save, beautiful, warped remnants of himself, whose lives must be preserved at all costs. And last, but certainly not least, he was planning to destroy Mother and thereby save The Planet itself.
            No, he was not idle, nor would he ever be. Regardless of whether or not Genesis was a part of his life, he had drive, he had purpose. He simply had to remind himself of that from time to time.
            Was he selfish? Certainly. But that didn’t change the fact that what he was doing would benefit the greater good. Yes, he would teach himself to be Genesis’ friend once again. He would learn to ignore his longing, and find ways to distract himself from his heartbreak. After all, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t experienced this before. He merely had to learn how to deal with the softer side of his emotions. Perhaps, Strife could help him with that. After all he had been through, after what Sephiroth himself had put him through, he had to have picked up something would help him hold himself together this time.
            “Sephiroth?”
            He opened his eyes to find Cloud and Reno both watching him with sympathy, concern, and not a little fear. “Genesis has returned early,” he said with a small, nearly non-existent half-smile. “Angeal just called to tell me.”
            Cloud only nodded, his thick blond spikes swaying with the motion, recognizing the pain that the other man couldn’t seem to hide. Genesis had been gone for three weeks, and somehow, he had managed to hurt Sephiroth during his absence. He didn’t how, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask. It was no one’s business but Sephiroth’s, and so long as he held himself together, Cloud wouldn’t intrude. If he started to show any signs of mental instability, he’d do something, but until then, it was hands off.
            Reno looked as though he wanted to say something, but Cloud shot him a hard look, and he closed his mouth, for which Sephiroth was infinitely grateful. He felt rather good about the decision he had just made, and he wanted to bask in that for as long as he could. He was sure that the feeling wouldn’t last long. The more positive emotions never did.
            Sephiroth concentrated on the computer screen before him, scanning the page in mere seconds, and closed the file with a disgusted sound. Nothing. He opened the next file, this one labeled, ‘SHM 001979001981001983-001992002555’, and his heart threatened to burst from his chest. He recognized all of those numbers, though he couldn’t have said how if asked. It was more of a feeling, a gut-deep certainty that told him he had found at least a part of what they were looking for.
            He quickly read through the file, forcing himself not to skim, as he absorbed a cold, clinical summary of the remnants lives. The ‘subjects’ hadn’t been given names as he had, merely numbers. Loz, of course, was ‘S-0001’, while Yazoo and Kadaj were ‘S-0002’ and ‘S-0003’ respectively. He hid a growing rage as he read short, vague accounts of the tests that had been run on them. He remembered those tests, and the pain that had accompanied them. It was no wonder that the boys had lashed out at The Planet once they’d gained their freedom. Gaia had done little to recommend itself to them.
            He wasn’t surprised to discover that the young boys, who should have been 13, 11, and 9 years of age at this point in time, had been given ‘treatments’ to accelerate their physical growth. There was no explanation for the age therapy, simply a description of the process itself. Jenova cells and mako, coupled with more of Sephiroth’s own unique genes, combined with cells from a subject designated ’V’, and 11 months of regular sensory deprivation sessions.
            Sephiroth squeezed his eyes closed as he imagined it. It would be much like being given a mako bath. Drugged and dropped into a tank filled with mako, your skin burning, your muscles seizing, unable to scream or cry out as The Planet’s lifeblood filled your lungs and made sound impossible.
            He shoved the memories away, knowing that no good could from them. He opened his eyes and forced himself to continue reading, scowling as he realized that there was no mention of the boys’ current location. They had been moved shortly before the aging therapy had begun, from one of Hojo’s hidden--now abandoned--laboratories located far north of Midgar, to an undisclosed location.
            The information had to be here, Sephiroth told himself sternly. Perhaps, not in this file, but surely in another. He glanced over at Strife, who was covering his mouth on another yawn, and sighed to himself. Did he wait until he knew where the boys were to tell him, or did he tell him now, even though they remained out of reach? Would it be kinder to wait? Sephiroth didn’t know, and could only speculate. He would certainly wish to be told, but he was not Cloud. He didn’t know his nemesis well enough to predict his reaction, and he was hesitant to do anything that might disturb the fragile peace between them.
            He has a right to know, Sephiroth thought with another sigh. He clicked the print button and watched as sheet after sheet slid onto the printer tray. All he could do was hope that he wasn’t making a mistake, and continue the search. If nothing else, perhaps this would give Cloud hope.
            “Watcha doin’ there, yo?”
            He looked up to find Reno crossing the room, the swagger in his walk restrained for the moment. “I found a record of the boys’ past treatments. I thought Cloud would like to see it.”
            Cloud looked up at that, mako-blue eyes wide as he slowly rose to his feet. “Does it say where they are?” he asked huskily.
            Sephiroth’s expression softened slightly as he said, “No, only that they were moved last year to an undisclosed location. I am sorry,” he added softly.
            Gaia’s Golden Weapon only nodded, those sky-blue eyes dimming slightly. “So, we keep searching,” he murmured, his eyes following Sephiroth’s hand as he picked up the stack of papers.
            “Yes, we keep searching,” Sephiroth told him solemnly as he extended his hand. “We will find them, Cloud.”
            “Damned right we will,” Reno inserted firmly.
            “I know.“ Cloud took the papers, unable to hide the tremor in his hand, and went back to his place on the floor. “Sephiroth. . .thank you, for this.”
            Sephiroth smiled faintly. “No thanks are necessary, but you are welcome, all the same.”
            Reno’s phone sounded, startling them all as it played out a fairly obnoxious, very recognizable, old-school rock tune. A grin lit up his thin face as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Boss man,” he greeted warmly. “What’s up?”
            He listened for a moment, his expression turning serious as he cast Sephiroth a veiled look. “I can do that,” he said into the mouthpiece. “No worries, yo.”
            The grin reappeared, reflected in Reno’s aquamarine eyes, as he said, “I’ll be right there, yo.” He closed the phone and tucked it away. “Guess who I’m escorting to Rufus’ place for a pow-wow tonight, yo?”
            Sephiroth grunted. “That would be me, I suppose.”
            “Yep,” Reno returned happily, winking outrageously at the older man. “I’ve ordered to keep my hands to myself, but hey, you can’t have everything, yo.”
            Cloud chuckled at that. “So, Rufus’ ring tone is Nazareth’s ‘Hair Of The Dog’?” he asked with amusement.
            “‘Now, you’re messin’ with a son of a bitch’,” Reno quoted, then laughed uproariously. “Couldn’t think of a better song for the boss man, yo.” He took the flash drives they hadn’t yet used out of his pocket and set them on Sephiroth’s desk. “I gotta go. I’ll see you two later. Peace, yo.”
            He retrieved his laptop, tucked it under his arm, and tossed the flash drive to Cloud. He left the room in full swagger, and Sephiroth could only blink as he shook his head. “Reno and Rufus,” he muttered. “Will wonders never cease?”
            Cloud snorted. “It’s not any weirder than me and one of your remnants.”
            Sephiroth chuckled a bit, even as he dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Quite true, Strife.” He watched the younger man return his attention to the papers in his hands and said, “Why don’t we take a break, now? It will give us both time to contemplate. . .everything.”
            Cloud shot him a knowing look even as he stood and stretched his cramped muscles. “What do you want to with the files we’ve already gone through?” he asked, gesturing towards the small pile of flash drives that sat haphazardly on the coffee table. “Should we get rid of them?”
            “No, I’ve got plans for them.” At his enquiring look, Sephiroth explained, “I’m going to give them to Hollander, as per our agreement, but I want the chance to study them first. I want to make sure that any mention of the methods used to create,” he faltered for a moment, “us are removed before he sees him.”
            “You don’t trust him, then?” Cloud asked with concern.
            Sephiroth shrugged eloquently. “He is a scientist,” he stated simply, as though it explained all. Sadly enough, it did.
            “Are you going to see him tonight?” he asked at last.
            “More than likely. After I‘ve met with Rufus, of course.” Sephiroth stood and rounded the desk, bending to retrieve the flash drives from the table. “I should get to work on this, now. In the meantime, would you like to take my laptop and finish the files you’ve studying?”
            To his surprise, Cloud shook his head negatively. “I’ve got another sparring session with Zack, then we’re going to hang out and order a pizza.”
            Sephiroth smiled faintly. “That sounds. . .fun. Are you and Reno still planning to rescue the Gi?”
            A solemn, spike-bobbing nod. “Reno will call me when he’s ready.”
            “Good luck, then.”
            ‘Yeah, thanks.”
            Gaia’s former champion studied him for a long moment before nodding and leaving the room. Sephiroth didn’t know what he had been looking for, but more than likely, he hadn’t found it. Sephiroth had been told numerous times that he was difficult to read. The consequences of a lifetime of being forced to hide his emotions for fear that he would be punished for them. Old habits were truly difficult to break.
            He took his laptop to his desk and sat down. He had a great deal to do today, and he was running out of time. He wanted this chore done before Angeal--or even worse, Genesis--came here in search of him. He was looking forward to neither confrontation, nor the emotional trauma which would inevitably follow. He would need all of his wits about him if he was to verbally spar with Rufus Shinra this evening.
            He closed the file that had given him such hope, marking the small rectangular drive with a silver marker to assure himself that he would not mistakenly dispose of it, and slipped it into his coat. He locked the drives they had not yet used in his desk and began to work on those that they already accessed. By the time he saw Hollander this evening, there would be no trace of the process used to create either he or his remnants left in these files. He would see to it.
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            Genesis sighed with heavy relief as he was finally allowed to leave Lazard’s office. Nearly two hours of giving a detailed verbal report had drained him of what little energy he’d had when he landed. He wanted nothing more than to return his apartment and lay down for some much needed rest.
            He snorted at the futility of his thoughts. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since he’d decided to break it off with Sephiroth. He had been wracked by guilt, torn by his own yearning for the man, and plagued by dreams that were so fucking erotic that even he couldn’t handle them. Sephiroth didn’t even know that they had broken up yet, and there he was, taking his revenge through Genesis’ own imagination.
            It fucking sucked.
            The worst part had been entering Lazard’s office and realizing that Sephiroth was nowhere to be seen. That was when the reality of the situation he’d created had struck—hard. No matter what had happened between them in the past, Sephiroth had always taken the time to welcome him home, to let him know that he’d been missed, even when he didn’t come right out and say the words. That he had been absent today, after Genesis’ unquestionable triumph, told him just how much he had hurt the other man, how far he had driven Sephiroth from him. He’d be lucky if Sephiroth even deigned to speak to him again after what he had done. The thought hurt more than he had ever imagined it could.
            “Genesis!”
            He came to an abrupt halt, scowling as he heard Angeal’s heavy footsteps approaching him from behind. The last thing he wanted was company, even Angeal’s. “I’m tired, Angeal. I just want to go home and go to sleep. Can we do this later?”
            “Genesis. . .” Angeal frowned, concerned by the sheer exhaustion he heard in his best friend’s voice. “Are you all right?”
            “I’m fine,” Genesis returned impatiently. “Just tired.”
            Angeal studied the signs of stress and fatigue that marred Genesis’ fine-boned features uneasily. “Aren’t you going to see Sephiroth?” he asked slowly, suddenly afraid that he knew the source of his friend’s obvious distress. “He’s missed you, you know.”
            Genesis squeezed his eyes shut and shifted so that his hair fell into his face, concealing his expression. “I know,” he acknowledged hoarsely.
            Angeal watched his oldest friend hide behind his hair in a gesture that was more reminiscent of Sephiroth than himself and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “What happened?“ he asked at length.
            “Nothing,” the older man answered too quickly to be convincing. “Just let it be, Angeal.”
            Angeal sighed, the heavy sound drawing a wince from his oldest friend. “Does he know?” he asked quietly. “Did you call him at all while you were gone?”
            Those narrow shoulders hunched, and he shook his head negatively. “You should have told me, Gen,” he admonished as gently as he could. “If I’d known that you weren’t contacting him, I wouldn’t have mentioned your calls to him.”
            “Oh, Gods,” Genesis groaned miserably. “Don’t, Angeal. This is hard enough as it is.”
            He set a comforting hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “Can I ask why, at least?”
            Genesis felt his eyes flood with tears as he frantically shook his head. “I can’t do this, now,” he choked, shrugging the comforting hand aside. “I-I’m sorry, Angeal, I just. . .can’t--”
            He broke off and strode quickly to the elevator, ignoring Angeal as he called after him. He quickly made his way up to the 69th floor, card key in hand as he practically ran the length of the hallway to reach his apartment. His hand was shaking so badly that he could barely slide it through the reader. It took on the fifth try, the red light turning green, and he gratefully rushed inside.
            He locked the door and leaned back against it, wrapping his arms around himself as the first tears fell. “Fuck!”
            The pain only grew, building in intensity until he could do nothing but sob breathlessly. It hurt, so fucking much! He’d never experienced anything like this before, and he prayed to the Goddess that he never would again. The last three weeks had been utter and complete hell. He didn’t know if he could stand feeling this way much fucking longer.
            “Is this how it was for you?” Genesis sank to the floor, guilt overwhelming him as he curled in on himself. “Every time I left you alone, did it hurt this fucking badly?”
            He didn’t know how long he lay there, curled into a ball, sobbing as his heart continued to break. He couldn’t even blame Sephiroth for this, because he had done it to himself. Somewhere along the way, he had given Sephiroth the power to break him, and he hadn’t realized it until it was too damned late.
            The tears finally stopped, hours or minutes later, he couldn’t tell. All he could do was lay there and stare blankly head, his mind and emotions blessedly numb. It wouldn’t last, he knew, but it was a brief reprieve from the pain, and he’d take whatever he could get at this point.
            Genesis dragged himself to his feet and stumbled into his bedroom. He didn’t bother to turn on the light. The darkness suited him all too well right now. He dropped to the bed, barely summoning the energy to remove Rapier before he fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
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            Sephiroth heard the heavy, distinctive sound of Angeal’s boots in the corridor outside of his office and sighed heavily. The floor vibrated under his feet as he hastily closed the report he had been censoring. He carefully schooled his features to reveal nothing, knowing that Angeal would be studying him for the slightest hint of emotion. He looked at the door, folded his hands on the desktop, and simply waited. A knock sounded, and he allowed himself a cold, humorless smile before going blank once more.
            “Enter,” he called out simply.
            The door opened and Angeal stepped inside. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
            “No.” Sephiroth gestured towards the chair on the other side of the desk. “What can I do for you, Angeal?”
            Angeal’s midnight eyes narrowed slightly on his own as he closed the door and took the proffered seat. “Are you all right?” he asked without preamble.
            “I am well, Angeal,” he answered calmly. “And you?”
            A frown pulled at the other man’s brow at the cool response. “Why didn’t you tell me that you and Genesis were no longer speaking?”
            Sephiroth merely gazed at him blandly. “Should I have?”
            The frowned deepened at that. “We’re friends, Seph. If you and Genesis were having problems, you should have told me. I might have been able to help.”
            “And what could you have done?” Sephiroth asked him in a soft voice.
            Surprise replaced the frown. “I could have talked to him for you. Seph, I might have been able to keep this from happening.”
            “Ah.” He sat back in his chair, resting his joined hands in his lap, his pale emerald eyes aloof. “I thank you for your intended intervention, Angeal, but as it would have changed nothing, I did not see the point of involving you.”
            “The point of. . .” Angeal’s voice trailed off as he stared at the other man with disbelief. “I’m your friend, Sephiroth. I could have helped you through this, if you’d only confided in me.”
            Sephiroth remained silent for a moment, thinking of all the times he nearly had, as he’d listened other man’s daily reports on Genesis. “Had I. . .confided in you, you would have ceased speaking to me of Genesis,” he said at length. “I rather enjoyed hearing you describe his ventures. I would not have liked losing that.”
            Angeal blinked, then nodded slowly. “Fair enough.” He hesitated before asking, “Are you going to talk to him, now that’s he’s back?”
            “We work together,” Sephiroth replied ambiguously. “I don’t see how I could avoid doing so.”
            “Sephiroth. . .” Angeal sighed as he wondered if, for all of Sephiroth’s very real difficulty in relating to others, he wasn’t being deliberately obtuse about this. “Surely, you know what I mean?”
            Those flat, cold green eyes flickered for a moment before growing distant once more. “Yes,” he admitted tonelessly, “but Genesis chose this, not I. Until he himself decides differently, this is how it shall remain.”
            “Gods, you’re just as bad as he is!” Angeal made a frustrated sound as he pushed himself to his feet. “You’re both so damned stubborn that you’re willing to risk six years together to salvage your wounded pride. There are more important things, Sephiroth. You, of all people, should know that.”
            “Pride.” Sephiroth tilted his head back to look up at him, the corners of his lips just barely tipping up in the smallest of smiles. “I am surprised to hear speak of it in such a manner, when I know how much you value yours.”
            Angeal scowled at the low blow. “It’s not the same thing at all.”
            ‘Of course, it isn’t.” Sephiroth paused, his lips thinning once again. “And what would do if you were in my position, Angeal? If it were Zack treating you as Genesis has treated me. Would you be able to forgive and forget so easily?”
            “I--” Angeal broke off, his glowing navy eyes sliding from Sephiroth’s own as he imagined it. “I don’t know,” he answered finally, “but I wouldn’t just give up. You didn’t see him, Seph. He looked like hell, like he hadn’t been sleeping or eating right. He needs you, Sephiroth, whether he knows it or not. You have to go to him and find a way to--”
            Sephiroth held up a hand, effectively silencing the urgent flow of words. “You do not quite understand the situation, Angeal.”
            “Tell me, then,” the other man appealed. “Make me understand why you’re not willing to go to him and at least try to fix this?”
            “Do you think I have not tried before?” Sephiroth snapped, appalled to hear the rage that colored his own words. He stood and turned away, fighting silently until he regained the icy calm that his been his only protection as a child. He turned back to his friend, his expression remote once more. “The night before he left, I told him how I felt, how I have always felt about him. I had hoped to banish his insecurities when it came to us once and for all. His response was to apologize for not feeling the same.”
            Angeal blanched, and Sephiroth nodded curtly. “Indeed,” he said mockingly. “He did, however, promise to return to me. You see how well that turned out.”
            “Seph. . .”
            “I cannot go to him, Angeal.” Sephiroth shook his head, suddenly grateful for the coldness that would never be far from him. “You are his friend, and I will always be grateful that you cared enough to be mine as well, but he is the one who will need you now, not I.”
            Left unspoken was the knowledge that Genesis’ worst enemy had always been himself, and the insecurities which drove him to such reckless, self-destructive behavior. “I will what I can for him from a distance,” he continued with that same ruthless calm, “but I can not—I will not—offer myself to him again.”
            “And when he comes to you?” Angeal questioned somberly. “What will you do, then?”
            Sephiroth smiled again, the slight, dismal excuse of a smile that Angeal remembered from their very first meeting. “I will give him whatever he believes he needs from me, just as I always have.”
            At what cost to you? Angeal could only gaze at the younger man with sorrow. Sephiroth had closed himself off, retreating behind the emotionless mask it had taken he and Genesis so many years to draw him out of, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. This was what he had always feared, that Genesis would someday hurt Sephiroth enough to permanently damage him. They were the only people Sephiroth had ever let himself trust, and Genesis had betrayed that trust in the worst possible way.
            “I’ll take care of him,” Angeal told him in a steady, quiet voice.
            “I know you will,” Sephiroth returned all too solemnly. “You always have.”
            Angeal watched him for a moment longer before turning on his heel and walking out of the room. Sephiroth released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and concentrated on holding himself together. He couldn’t afford the luxury of tears, no matter that they gathered behind his closed lids and burned for release. He had so much to do, and there wasn’t any time for his grief. Once this was over, and everything had been set right, then he would grieve. For now. . .
            He resumed his seat and pulled up the next file, determined not waste the precious time that he’d been granted.
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Final Fantasy VII: Angelic Threnody