Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Apotheosis ❯ Spreading Sickness ( Chapter 11 )

Sephiroth sank down to his haunches and buried his face in his hands, hair pooling around his boots amidst the dust and grit of the stone floor.

She wasn't there.

He had known she wouldn't be, of course. There was none of the jangling, grating buzz that heralded her presence as they approached Nibelheim; no cold sweats, no nausea, no pounding headache, none of the things he had experienced prior to beginning his journey with Aeria. When he reached the summit of the mountain trail and entered the cool, dark womb of the defunct reactor's chamber, nothing had greeted him save silence, punctuated by the occasional echoing drip of water.

No, not nothing, he thought, digging his nails into his scalp. Think, assess what you've seen.

There was no mistaking the pods lining the wall of the main chamber for anything but experimental holding cells. Very old, covered in filth, many with cracked viewplates; a few bearing traces of disturbingly unidentifiable substances; none, however, were occupied.

One of the pods was of great interest. Cracked open, the hinged double doors yawning wide, the grit before it was obviously disturbed, swirled bi the passage of a heavy object pushed through it, dotted with indistinct footprints. That pod had been Jenova's home, he guessed, and some one, or some group, had evicted her from it.

He scrubbed at his eyes, hoping to relieve the sudden burning behind them, and settled down to sit cross-legged, peering disconsolately around the grim chamber. It held no new information for him; he gnawed at his lower lip, wondering what in God's name he was supposed to do now.

It had seemed to easy, crouched in the Temple's balcony, swept away in an ecstasy of sorrow and black, bloody fury; steal the girl, prevent Jenova from using her, then hunt down and destroy the monstrosity that had spawned him and the vile beauracracy that had nurtured them both. Even as he had set out on his pursuit, trailing the hapless Cetra like a comet's tail, his reserve had never wavered. Now, though, the trail had grown cold; for the first time in his structured, methodical life he found himself unsure. Lost. No backup squad; no intranet to call on for more information; no air support; no anything, save his own frustrated confusion.

And the girl, of course. Aeris.

So weak. So frail. So evidently useless, with her delicate Midgar constitution, her tiny body, her sanctimonious morals. It galled him, like bitter ashes in his mouth, but she had proved invaluable on the journey. It shocked him how much he didn't know, how many basic facts of life living in Shinra's sheltered grasp had kept from him. Reaching into a belt pouch, he pulled out a featureless credit chip and regarded it caustically.

It had quickly become obvious they would need more in the way of supplies from their journey after arriving at Icicle Inn. He had gathered them swiftly, and habitually reached for the chip to purchase them when it struck him just how swiftly Shinra would descend on him once they traced the chip's use. Unsure of how else to proceed, he had seriously considered simply killing the merchant; Aeris, however, swiftly ascertained the nature of the problem and interceded smoothly, making the purchase with worn gil coins. The first time she had stepped in to cover for him, and infuriatingly, not the last.

She never brought these incidents up to him, but that too was strange. She didn't refrain from mentioning them out of fear of his ire, as one of his men might have; she seemed to realize how discomfited and embarrassed these faux paxs made him, and simply didn't want to upset him.

Not that she bit her tongue on any other smart remark that might occur to her. She had grown more relaxed since their encounter with the bandits, and often had a pithy comment to make on the various things they encountered. Sephiroth grudgingly found himself coming to enjoy her surprisingly dry sense of humor, which she kept up in the face of his most foreboding silences. Unable to ignore her, he was instead drawn out; much of the last week had been passed in witty banter.

They never spoke of their reason for travelling together, though; the merest hint of it was enough to dissolve a conversation into anxious silence. He knew it hurt her terribly to think of her captured friends; many an anecdote had been choked off mid-sentence, and often, as he lay awake in the long watches of the night, the rise of the moon would be accompanied by her stifled sobs. She was always smiling the next morning, though, and asking him if he'd slept well, almost daring him to question the bruised circles under her eyes. He could help but admire her refusal to admit her pain; was beginning to wonder if there was anything he could do to ease it.

Clenching his hand into a fist, the credit chip shattered into meaningless shards of plastic that rained down as he rose to his feet. Painful as she might find it, the time had come to discuss their shared objective. She or her planetary voice might have an insight; if they didn't… well, then, there would be things much more pressing than hurt feelings to worry about.

The main square of Nibelheim was much more subdued that afternoon than the overcast, threatening sky accounted for; people hurried about the market with their heads down, urgent to finish their errands, and Sephiroth found it no trouble to ghost around the edges to the Shinra Mansion without being seen.

The familiar burble of the Shinra private-band station greeted him as he stepped through the secluded entrance. Aeris had been fascinated by it ever since he had reconnected the short-wave radio. Broadcast in the slang-filled, company-specific dialect Shinra employees spoke, he doubted she could understand much of it; that didn't keep her from listening raptly. He meant to ask her, unslinging the Masamune as he walked into the library.

"Happy Birthday!"

The question died on his lips as his brow furrowed. "What?"

Aeris peered at him over the stack of files spread out on the wide desk before her. "You're not nearly as old as I thought; the white hair really throws it all off." She broke into a sunny smile. "I would have baked you a cake, but somehow, you don't strike me as the type."

Sephiroth frowned, thoroughly puzzled. "What are you going on about?"

"Silly, you turned thrity two weeks ago! Why didn't you tell me? Oh, wait, let me guess." Aeris dropped the paper she had been holding, straightened in her seat, and schooled her features into a mask of disapproval. "Company regulations do not permit birthdays!"

"I imagine they don't," he said sardonically, stepping around the desk to scrutinize the file she had been reading. "Was I meant to have it?"

"What, a birthday?"

"No, white hair. Was it supposed to be colored?"

Aeris's eyes sparkled with mirth. "Is that a hint of vanity I detect?"

Sephiroth hooked his ankle around a nearby chair and dragged it over. "Absolutely." He sat down, tilting his head to continue his reading. "Haven't you noticed most first-class SOLDIERs have, ah, creative hairstyles? It's actually encouraged. It shows that they're such mighty warriors they can be trusted to groom themselves."

She whooped with laughter. "And you, being the mightiest of all, don't have to worry about someone tripping you up with your silky locks."

Unaccountably stung, he allowed his annoyance to creep onto his face as he grinned ferally. "Exactly."

"Um." Aeris quickly dropped her gaze, shuffling through the papers spread out before her. "I don't think it was in here, actually, or if it is I didn't see it-oh!" She looked up at him with a pained expression. "I'm so sorry! This is really none of my business-"

He waved her off. "It's available to anyone with the right clearance; I can hardly grudge it to you." Seeing her continued distress, he hastened to change the subject. "Learn anything else of interest?"

"Nothing you don't know already," she said with a grimace. Propping her chin on her fist, she regarded him uncertainly. "I-I guess we're kind of where we started, with that."

Silent for a moment, he debated how to use the opening she had given him. "No," he finally said with a sight, "we're worse off." Meeting her curious gaze, he confessed, "Jenova is gone."

She went pale at the mention of the name. "What do you mean, gone?"

He bounded to his feet and turned to stare at a bookcase. "Gone. Not here. Elsewhere."

"But-can't you follow her?" she quavered.

He spun around to glare at her. "Aeris, we seem to have a breakdown of very basic communication here-"

"No, listen!" Aeris stood, wringing her hands, but did not step away. "The Planet is always with me, in the back of my head, like a hum-"

"I hear no hum."

"I said listen!" She stamped her foot, blue eyes bright with tension. "There's places in the world, wellsprings of the Lifestream, temples, special places. When I get close to them, the hum gets louder-and if I listen closely enough, I can follow the hum to them. That's what I meant. Maybe you can do that with her-it."

"That is the stupidest-" He stopped. "A hum, you say."

"Yes."

"And it leads you to these special place."

"Yes."

It wasn't nearly as crazy as many things he had recently learned to be true. "Alright," he said, sinking back into the chair. He ran a hand through his hair. "Is there anything special I need to do?"

"No-not really. Just relax, and listen for it. Maybe-maybe try thinking about her."

"Think about her. Right." He cloased his eyes and leaned back, reaching up to massage his temples. There was no one in his head but himself; this whole magic business smacked of nonsense-but there was really no other option. Materia, though… materia at least made

sense-

Materia. He quickly marshalled his thoughts into the rigid spear of will required to operate materia. Summoning his recollections of how contact with Jenova had felt, he held them foremost in his mind, and thrust.

Vertigo washed over him, and he had a vague sensation of his palms striking the carpet. It was entirely secondary to the dizziness, the feeling of travelling at an unimaginable speed, and a low ache that quickly throbbed into agony-

The prodigal son!

He slammed into Jenova like a wall, her horrid influence engulfing him like quicksand. His body thrashed, choking as he tried to vomit, and the sound of metallic laughter filled his perception.

Have you thought better of your disobedience?

I am not disobediant I AM NOT YOURS-

"Sephiroth!"

Sephiroth!

A jumble of sights, sounds, smells, everything as he writhed in Jenova's mental grip. She squeezed crushingly tight at the sound of his name.

YOU HAVE NOT LEARNED!

Sephiroth!

Aeris--!

Sephi-

"-roth!"

LEAVE HIM BE!

"-come back, hang on, I've got-"

LET HIM GO!

--you, come back-

"-PLEASE!"

Small damp hands against his face, cool, blessedly cool, turning him over to lie on his back. He twitched, struggling to maintain contact with that icy purity. The hands cupped his chin, a soft voice frantically murmuring a prayer or a threat or both, and he coughed, hot bile burning his throat. His eyes felt as if they were glued shut; he pried one open to behold Aeris's terror-stricken countenance above him. He coughed again.

"You were right… she was there…" His voice sounded pitifully weak in his own ears, and his vision began to swim.

"You were right, that was stupid, so stupid, I can't believe I told you to do that-no, don't sit up! Don't you dare sit up!" Her marvelous hands on his chest now, pushing him back down, but there was something else wrong…

"Now stay there! I need to go get my things, but you'll be fine, just stay there-stay!"

Footsteps pattered away. With no immediate prospect of her soothing touch, he settled back to absorb what he had-seen? Jenova, yes, and much more besides, but it her so badly to even think about it, and there was something else, something that looked different…

He was so wrapped up in he hazy contemplation that he scarely noticed her return. She worked quickly on him with a handful of materia, whispering feverishly all the while, and slowly the dreadful miasma began to recede.

"Aera. Mnot-I am. Not. Dead. Not going to be."

"But you almost were, and I told you to do it! This is really bad-"

"Aeris." He heaved an eyelid open, regarded her as critically as he could.

"Shhh, don't talk yet, save your-"

"Aeris," he snapped, mustering as much command presence as he could. "Your eyes."

"What about my eyes?"

Sephiroth forced himself to wave a hand towards the long mirror that hung behind the desk. "…They're prettier than mine."

"You-are-crazy!"

"Go-go look." He levered himself up on one elbow, and swatted at her when she attempted to push him back down. "Go look."

Aeris balled her hands in frustration. "If I do, will you promise to settle down?"

"Fine. Go look."

With an exasperated sigh she leapt to her feet and stomped over to the mirror. He took the opportunity to grab the chair and haul himself into it; he nearly lost his balance when he heard her startled gasp.

Leaning back, he could see her reflection over her shoulder. Her eyes were gleaming, dusted with the same molten green his own burned with. She stared at herself in shock. "I take it that's"-he hawked and spat into the trashcan beside the desk-"that's not normal."

As if snapped out of a dream, she turned and hurried over to him. "No, it's not," she said, kneeling beside the chair. "It's never happened before, I don't know what it is, but let's not worry about it now."

Sephiroth wheezed a laugh and waggled his fingers at her. "Cooties."

Aeris giggled, covering her mouth with her hands; then thought better of it and rocked back on her heels, shaking with peals of laughter. They held a definite note of hysteria, but were laughter nontheless; Sephiroth began to chuckle along with her. "Alright," she said, gasping for breath, "I guess you can't be dying if you can still laugh at your own jokes. A bad one, no less."

He smiled. "I said as much. That wasn't nearly as bad as the last time. You-helped." He looked down at his hands; then, on impulse, reached out to take one of hers. "Thank you.

"ALL POINTS BULLETIN!"

They both jumped in shock as the radio blared, and she snatched her hands away. The broadcaster, strain obvious in his voice, lapsed into plain language as he barrelled on.

"All available units to SH-142, I repeat, SH-142, all available units. The President has been found dead, believed to be murder, perpetrator believed to be one Cloud Strife, 5'10", blonde/blue, last seen in SH-142-99. All floors are locked down, and I repeat, all available units to-"

"No!" Aeris shrieked, digging into her cheeks with her nails. "No! No!"

"Aeris, wait-"

She bolted from the room.