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Sepsis	By : ladysanzennine Category: Final Fantasy VII > Het - Male/Female > Sephiroth/Aerith Views: 2066 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Sepsis
Chapter 7
By Lyralina Sanzennine
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 is property of Square Enix.
Aeris floated in a sea of black nothingness. She looked around, spun to the side in a jerky motion, trying to understand the dreamscape she was trapped in. Her eyes glanced up and down and she spun and spun and spun. She shivered, wrapping her arms around her body for warmth, though it wasn’t quite cold.
“Hello?” she called. She walked forward one step. Her hand absently rubbed at her upper arm. “Is anyone there?”
She closed her eyes tightly, trying to force herself out of the hallucination and back into the real world. Nothing happened and not even the air (was there even air?) stirred in the minutes that passed. With a sigh, she gave up and sat down on the floor beneath her that wasn’t a floor at all.
“I’m dreaming,” she told herself firmly. “I know this is just a dream. It’s nothing.”
A voice whispered to her from the void behind her. My beautiful daughter…
Aeris was on her feet in a fraction of a second at the sound. She whipped around to face the direction that the voice had spoken from.
“Mom?” She asked the darkness tentatively. The voice had sounded exactly like Ifalna. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. It had been so, so long since she’d heard that voice.
Aeris.
She ran, blindly, not knowing where she was going.
“Mom, where are you?” She cried out. Her head snapped from side to side. She tried to remind herself that none of this was real, but somehow, even the knowledge of that didn’t help.
Oh, Aeris. Silly girl, don’t you know? I’ve always been with you.
A single tear trickled down Aeris’s cheek at that. “I know. I know, but I’ve missed you so much.”
I’ve missed you too, my baby, Ifalna whispered.
“Why can’t I see you?” Aeris asked. At that moment, she would have given anything to be safely held within the arms of her mother. “Oh Mom, you have no idea how bad it’s been…”
I know, baby. It’s hurt me very much to watch you suffer like that. She paused a beat before continuing. And you can’t see me because…well, Aeris, you don’t want it enough.
“What?” Aeris exclaimed in surprise. “How can you say that? I do want to see you, Mom. Please, where are you?”
Try harder, baby. I know you can do it.
Aeris took a deep, steadying breath and closed her eyes. With great control, she brought an image of her mother to the forefront of her mind, just as she appeared all those years ago – before the escape from the labs, and before she lay dying on the filthy floor of the Sector 7 train station. She was young and beautiful and vibrant. Her long chestnut hair spilled down over her shoulders in rich waves, partially covering the raspberry-hued dress she wore. Green eyes, identical to Aeris’s, sparkled with secret laughter.
She poured all of her desperation into the image, bringing it to life with the sheer force of her need. It was an opportunity that would never again present itself, and she would not let it slip through her fingers. In all the horror and confusion that had been her life since her…rebirth? This moment was too precious.
Aeris’s eyes flew open as she felt a soft hand against her cheek.
“Mom…” She started, failing to find the words she wanted to say.
Ifalna stood before her just as she’d always appeared in Aeris’s memories, lovely and warm. They stood toe to toe, with Ifalna’s arm outstretched to gently touch Aeris’s face.
“That’s my girl,” Ifalna said, her voice more real now than it had been moments before. “You’ve always been so strong, Aeris. So brave.”
“Oh, Mom,” Aeris sobbed brokenly. She flung herself into Ifalna’s welcoming arms. “I don’t feel brave or strong.”
Ifalna held her child tenderly and stroked her hair to comfort the girl. “Come, sit with me, love,” she said.
She slowly lowered herself to her knees and then folded her legs beneath her. Aeris sat with her and curled up within her embrace. Her arms were locked around her mother’s waist while she rested her head against her shoulder. Ifalna held her daughter for a long moment in silence.
“Talk to me, Aeris,” Ifalna quietly said. “I know you’re hurt.”
Aeris nodded and held her mother tighter. She burrowed her face into her shoulder. “It’s been so horrible, Mom. It hurts so much, and when it doesn’t hurt, it’s so confusing…”
“Mmm,” Ifalna replied. “Who hurts you?”
“She does,” Aeris answered. She knew as she spoke the words how strange they sounded.
“She?” Ifalna asked.
Aeris bit down on her lower lip. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I think She’s ‘The Crisis,’ but I’m not sure what the Crisis is anymore. And sometimes she’s ‘Mother,’” she shook her head dazedly.
“And She hurts you?”
Aeris nodded. “She makes everything hurt. And I think She’s stealing my memories.”
Ifalna regarded her daughter thoughtfully. “Is that all She does? Hurt you?”
Aeris didn’t answer for a long moment. Ifalna gently nudged the daughter in her arms.
“No.”
Ifalna smiled sadly but there was an odd glint in her cypress-green eyes. “What else does She do?”
Aeris fidgeted before responding. “She…sings to me sometimes…”
Ifalna pressed her cheek lightly against the top of her daughter’s head. “Is that what confuses you?” she asked.
Aeris shook her head. “There’s so much more. Nothing makes sense, Mom! She’s so ugly, but so beautiful. And he’s like that too…”
“He is very beautiful, isn’t he?”
Aeris drew back slightly to study the familiar face of her mother with a frown. “He is,” she agreed cautiously.
Ifalna smiled. “Don’t be so shocked, my love,” she said. “You know Sephiroth and I knew each other in Hojo’s lab, right?”
“I guess,” Aeris replied. She settled herself back against her mother’s shoulder.
“Now,” Ifalna probed, “What aren’t you telling me? There’s something you’re hiding.”
Silently, Aeris acknowledged that there were many things that she hadn’t told Ifalna – many things that she was hiding and would continue to hide. It was easier, safer, that way.
“What else does Jenova do to you, my child?”
A pervading feeling of wrongness settled in Aeris’s belly, gradually replacing her initial happy relief at being able to talk to her mother again. “What do you mean?” she asked tentatively.
“Aeris,” Ifalna said with the long-suffering patience of all parents, “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” She gently nuzzled Aeris’s cheek.
Aeris felt her body stiffen in response. Her breathing turned shallow. “I thought you said you were watching me.”
“I have been,” Ifalna said. “But that doesn’t mean I know everything.”
“What do you want to know?” Aeris asked.
Ifalna replied slowly, “What does Jenova do to you?”
And suddenly Aeris’s world tumbled and crashed and fell all around her in shattered pieces as she found herself still in her mother’s arms, but with warm, soft lips on the column of her neck. She gasped in utter shock and scrambled to get away, but hidden muscles like steel bands held her in place.
“Mom…what-?”
“Oh Aeris, I’ve missed you so much,” Ifalna said, her voice filled with such tenderness. “My beautiful girl…I love you so.”
Aeris reeled at the words. She opened her mouth to cry out in horror but choked instead. My beautiful girl…It was Her. The demon that had never truly ceased to torment her. Tears flooded her eyes at the realization and she renewed her struggles.
“No! Let me go!” Aeris exclaimed. “Please…”
But Ifalna’s lips were on her neck again, kissing her softly. She felt something warm and moist brush across her skin there and screamed at the realization that it was her tongue. One hand had left its place on Aeris’s back to trail a caressing line down to her ankle. Her eyes, wide open in absolute horror, stared into heavy-lidded eyes that were identical to her own. It was almost like looking into a mirror. She felt a part of herself die in that moment.
Ifalna’s hand stroked the exposed skin of her lower leg with loving reverence. Her hand moved slowly upwards until it brushed against the hem of Aeris’s pink dress.
Aeris squeezed her eyes shut in desperation. She’s not Mom. It’s not Mom! She screamed at herself. But the woman who held her was so perfect, in voice and appearance, it hardly mattered. Jenova, this is Jenova! The Crisis…
She clamped her teeth down hard on her lower lip. The pain did little to change anything.
Because the most horrifying thing of all was not her that her mother was doing this to her, but that she was responding.
No no no.
Aeris burst into tears, sobbing in absolute brokenness. The dreamscape did nothing to lessen the horror of the situation. Then she was on her back and dazed as she lay in the arms of the creature. It was cold and wet to the touch, the alien substances that coated its flesh soaking through her dress and into her skin. Tentacles circled her and clamped down, piercing her skin, making her bleed, and all she could see through blurred eyes was scarred, putrid, inhuman flesh and she cried and cried and cried.
*          *          *
She’s breathing. Steadily.
Above, she sees him looking down at her. He’s concerned.
He asks her if she’s okay, and hesitantly, she replies that she will be, in a few more minutes.
He is holding her in a sea of white; the dreamscape has shifted, and in the comforting embrace of his strong arms she cries in relief. He just holds her patiently, like a long-known lover curled upon his lap. He neither speaks nor moves – a perfect statue, but yielding and human all the same.
And perhaps that’s why, in some ways, she feels in this moment, maybe she already loves him. Not truly, not purely, but in scattered pieces of faulty logic and absolute irrationality. But, perhaps, that’s alright, if only for this moment, locked in the endless white of the dream.
She notices that the brightness reflects off of the curtain of his hair, illuminating him. She rather thinks that he looks the sublime angel here, though still something in his face and eyes shows him for the fallen creature that he is. He is a study in contrasts, and beautiful through it all – both haloed in holy light and wrapped in black that reflects nothing. And that is strange, isn’t it? That light seems to disappear within the folds of his clothing?
But he’s flying, soaring upwards, cradling her against his body. She wraps her arms around his neck instinctively. Still sniffling, she opens her eyes and cautiously turns her head to take in the view beyond him. Endless blue skies filled with soft, downy clouds surround them. In the distance, a mountain summit materializes from the mist as the clouds part. Its sharp, clean peak is snowy and it’s strangely lovely in its sterility.
The air stirs gently around them as he remains in place, levitating many miles away from the mountaintop.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” He asks her.
“It is,” she whispers back without hesitation.
He nods at her and with a smile – it is dazzling in its joy, so rare, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen it. Surely she would remember if he had looked at her with such an expression before – he takes off again, carefully carrying them over to the very tip of the icy mountain. Their feet slowly touch the ground beneath them; their boots sink slightly in the fresh, untouched snow.
“Why isn’t it cold?” she asks him.
He tells her that the land is enchanted.
“This could be our new home,” he says, and he speaks of their glorious future. “There will be no evil nor corruption nor greed. The land will live in perfect harmony with the people, as it was always meant to be.”
She thinks that sounds nice, and tells him so.
They lay together in the fresh snow. It doesn’t melt; is not cold to the touch. She spreads her limbs wide and sweeps them from side to side to make a snow angel. When she shows him her work, he favors her with another smile and hugs her tightly.
And she weeps.
Concerned, he continues to hold her. Wrapped in such an embrace, she cries all the harder.
“Why?” She asks him.
“Why do you think?” He asks her back.
“Do you love me?” She wants to know, without any idea why she would ask such a question.
He raises an eyebrow at her. “Do you love me?” He parrots.
She tells him that she doesn’t know. There isn’t much she seems to know these days. She quietly says that in some ways, maybe, she does. In some ways…but what does that mean?
He rubs her back up and down in long, steady strokes. He tells her that he understands, and that it is okay.
“But what’s okay?” She wants to know. “And what happens now?”
“Everything’s okay,” he says to her, “Or at least it will be.” He promises her that he won’t let the Crisis keep hurting her.
She asks him if he’s saying he’ll protect her.
“Haven’t I been doing that all along?” he asks her.
He isn’t bound to her; has no reason to take care of her at all. But he has and he does and at that she holds him tighter, not wanting to let him go.
“Please don’t leave me,” she begs of him brokenly. She knows that she has never been afraid of the dark before, and has never been afraid to be alone, but now, now things are different and she is terrified of both.
“Never,” he tells her, placing a tender kiss upon her forehead.
She doesn’t know him and he doesn’t know her and perhaps neither knows what they are doing here, but it feels right and good and safe so she surrenders herself to it – to him. For now she is content to ignore the faint whispers in the very deepest parts of her mind that speak of ugliness and death. There is only beauty in this moment, as two solitary creatures hold each other in the midst of warm snow and white sunshine. He is her knight and her angel and it’s simply good to not have to be strong, if just for this moment.
It’s wonderful to relax and to trust and believe in blissful eternity. And she wants to believe.
“What are we going to do?” she asks of him. “This is just a dream. The world…”
His breath is hot against the shell of her ear as he whispers to her. “Soon our world will be every bit as beautiful as this place. I’m working hard to make it so.”
She thinks that sounds lovely and arches her back so that she can look up at him and smile with genuine happiness. He is dazzling here, like this. The dark smudges that usually mar his too-pale skin are nowhere to be seen, as if the incredible land itself is enough to take away all his stress and sleeplessness.
A part of her wants to think that maybe, it even has something to do with her.
But he’s nibbling on her earlobe now so she stops thinking altogether. His lips and teeth are gentle on her skin, and when he exhales the warm air tickles her deliciously. She squirms slightly in his arms and even moans softly without realizing.
Then he takes her hand and brushes her fingertips against his lips. His feline eyes shine intensely and she thinks to herself that she has never been so enthralled by anything or anyone before. He is matchless in every way, the perfect lord for this perfect, illusory mountain. She imagines that in the real world he is a strange misfit, and for that reason exactly, he belongs here as much as the un-cold snow.
But then…does she belong here?
He’s kissing her everywhere, her brow, her cheeks, her jaw. He is soft and hard and so intoxicating through it all that her head rolls back and her neck arches towards him. She presses herself against him. Her breasts brush against the leather of his coat.
She wonders why he never truly kisses her, but doesn’t ask. She knows that he would only ask her the same. So silently, she asks herself that question as he slowly, slowly seduces her. And the answer is as simple as it is complex and intangible, just as everything seems to be now in her life and in her dreams.
She is afraid.
Strange, as she is afraid of many things now, but she has never really feared him. But then, it isn’t really him she’s scared of in this instance, but herself. She wants him – needs him – to be the one to kiss her and cradle her and seduce her.
Because she needs to know that he is choosing this all on his own. That he is choosing her.
She wonders why she worries about such a thing, but she has always known. There had been another but she couldn’t quite remember. She had been an old friend, so dearly loved, and there had been such perfect peace and communion between them. So many long, quiet conversations. Perhaps, even, in those days, they had never ceased to talk. But that was a strange notion, too impractical to be truth.
But her friend had left her, so alone, rejected and pushed away.
Perhaps that is why it always seems so cold now, even when she’s warm. Or perhaps she is confusing herself again.
He’s real enough though. Sometimes she feels like he’s the only real thing that ever existed – the only real thing she ever knew. And she thinks, silently, that maybe he too loves her in an incomplete but desperate way, and maybe he even needs her and she just doesn’t know why.
Or maybe she is just dreaming and those feelings are as insubstantial as the dreamscape they stand in.
But he’s still kissing her so she thinks that maybe none of that matters at all and silences herself so that she might enjoy his actions fully. Because he is good at everything he does and he is delicious against her lips. He holds her just so as she clings to him like a drowning woman and he smiles at her knowingly without judgment and for a moment she feels as if she might cry again and again.
His lips hover above hers so she holds her breath with anticipation. She thinks he might finally kiss her – really and truly kiss her – and she prays silently that she is right because, heavens above, she wants him to. He is so close and she is so lost in him.
So she holds herself still, and she waits.
*          *          *
She was lying in a field of flowers.
She blinked, twice, in confusion, certain that this wasn’t quite right. Hadn’t she been with…?
“’Morning, sunshine,” A familiar voice said from beside her.
She turned with a gasp of surprise, lifting herself slightly so that she was propped up on her elbow. Wild black hair framed a face with startlingly blue eyes and a charming, easy smile. It was a smile he had often showered on her in the past, and an expression that she had always treasured, even five years after she’d last seen him – when he’d left for Nibelheim.
“Zack…”
His smile widened; sunlight glinted off his straight, white teeth. “Good to see you still remember me.”
She frowned at him slightly, wondering why he would say such a thing. “Of course I remember you, Zack.”
“I don’t know, Rissa,” he said. He reached over to her and ruffled her loose hair playfully. “You’ve been kinda out of it lately.”
Aeris’s fingers busied themselves, playing with a long blade of grass by her elbow. She looked down at the ground without really seeing it.
“I know,” she told him. “I’m forgetting something, aren’t I?”
He laughed at that and it was a nice sound to her ears, hearty and without dark taint. “Ris, you have no idea.”
“Tell me then, Zack,” she pleaded. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she couldn’t – didn’t feel like it would be appropriate.
“Not much to tell, really. It’s your story after all. All you gotta do is remember.” He paused, thinking. “But I’ll give you a hint to get started. There’s a man down there who loves you, y’know, Cloud? Head looks kinda like a chocobo, real cute kid. He’s trying to find you right now, actually.”
Aeris’s frown deepened at that and her brow furrowed. “Why is he trying to find me?”
Zack leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “That, love, you already know.” He stood up in a fluid motion, his hair swaying slightly in the breeze. “Go on now, Ris. You’ve got a lot to think about, and this isn’t the best place to do it. Too weird.”
And then he was gone and she was blinking, finally awake.
*          *          *
Aeris shot up in bed only to double over at the screaming of her unyielding muscles. Her hands shakily came to her face, feeling the frozen lines of shock and horror on her features. Sweat beaded on her brow, above her lip. Her hands were clammy and cold and her back hurt terribly, but she noticed nothing.
Because he had killed her.
And She had done all this to her.
That meant that he, he who promised to protect her, who was gentle and kind and loving, was responsible for all this
-she choked-
in order to strike at Cloud and destroy the world, and make himself a god.
But worst of all wasn’t him, wasn’t him at all, but she, Aeris, and all that she felt and continued to feel towards a madman and murderer and creature of evil.
And because she had cried so much already, too much, in the maelstrom of emotions she didn’t weep or break or crumble.
No.
She screamed.
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Sepsis