Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Temporary Salvation ❯ Part 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Title - Temporary Salvation

Fandom - FFVII

Characters - Sephiroth, Tseng

Warnings this chapter - yaoi, swearing

Disclaimer - Don't own Final Fantasy 7. Square Enix does. Making no money either.

Note - Takes place before CrisisCore.

 

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Chapter 1

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Day 2

 

What in Gaia's name was he doing here? Surely, this had to be some kind of nightmare that he would wake from?

 

Tseng looked at him from the other side of the dilapidated cabin, his expression blank and his eyes unreadable. He stared back darkly. After all, there was nothing else to occupy his time. Their belongings had been left behind when they'd been separated from the others and now, all he had was his sword and the quietest man on the planet for company. He was starting to wish that it was Genesis here before him. Yes, the red general could be impossibly self centered and annoying, but at least his constant stream of poetry would have pierced the silence and given some break to the mind numbing boredom.

 

Tseng stood, approached the fireplace and began boiling water in the old saucepan that he'd dug out of one of the cupboards in the cabin. They had no supplies except for the herbal tea that the dark haired man apparently always carried in the breast pocket of his jacket. This quirk of the quiet Turk really pissed him off. He didn't want tea. He wanted a steak. A huge steak….maybe two of them. Gods, he was just so sick and tired of eating sour berries. He should be thankful that the local thorn bushes were bearing fruit at this time of year. After all, they were the only thing that grew for miles in all directions, lining the banks of the nearby river and clinging to life. They also supplied an abundance of firewood which would be essential to survive this ordeal.

 

For the hundredth time, he considered going outside to search for something to kill. He sighed, admitting to himself that it was pointless. Nothing else was stupid enough to wander around in this dead wasteland. The only thing to kill was Tseng. He smiled as he rolled that thought around in his head, absently wondering if the man's expression would change if faced with the Masamune. Most likely it would not and then he'd have to put up with a rotting corpse for company.

 

Damn it, there had to be something to do to pass the time. Anything was better than sitting here, drinking tea from an old stained bowl. And why the fuck were there bowls here but no cups? He didn't even notice the growl that escaped his lips. Was completely blind to the smile that fleetingly graced Tseng's lips on hearing it. He was staring at his bowl of tea intently, trying desperately to control his growing anger.

 

“Is there a problem with your tea, General?” Tseng asked. He looked up at the Turk to see the same expressionless face regarding him calmly. He wished there was a smirk on those lips. Then he would have an excuse to hurt him.

 

“The tea is fine,” he responded flatly. Taking a deep breath, he prayed that they would be found soon. Too much more of this was going to drive him insane.

 

 

 

Day 3

 

Twenty four hours later, no further words had been spoken. The silence was deafening. All Sephiroth could hear was Tseng's breathing and the occasional rustle of fabric. Somehow, he had to get the man to talk.

 

“Tseng, tell me about yourself,” he muttered in desperation. Tseng turned to look at him, saying nothing. Seconds turned to minutes as the two sat staring at each other from across the room.

 

“You already know who I am and what I do,” the Turk answered evasively, turning back to poke the fire for the millionth time.

 

“I meant, tell me something I don't know about yourself,” Sephiroth prodded stubbornly. Tseng left the fire to sit on the remains of a chair, as far away from him as the cabin would allow. The general thought he was going to ignore him and his question completely, but five minutes later the Turk looked up.

 

“Why?” he quietly responded. Sephiroth noticed, with interest, the annoyance that flashed across those dark eyes.

 

“Do you detest me so, that a simple request for information about yourself causes you to loose your usual calm?” The general knew he was being argumentative but he couldn't care less. He needed entertainment and Tseng was the only thing here.

 

“I do not detest you, General. There is simply nothing to tell you. I am a Turk. I have no time for hobbies or interests outside of work. I was simply wondering why you would want to know anything about me now, when you have never shown the slightest interest in my existence before.”

 

Sephiroth considered telling him the truth. That he was only interested because there was nobody else here. He dismissed the idea, deciding that it was just too mean and childish, even for this level of boredom. Instead, he considered the man before him for the first time. It was true that he had never bothered to think about Tseng as a person before. He was just another Turk. Dark hair and eyes, stoic and stone like. Another robot slave to the Shinra masters. But then again, so was he.

 

Tseng sighed and Sephiroth was surprised to see regret flash across his features before his usual mask returned. The Turk stood, arranged his tattered blanket on the floor next to the fire and lay down with his back to him. Sephiroth followed suit, laying out his own moth eaten rag an arms length away and laying down to sleep. He closed his eyes but minutes later opened them again to look at the other man, laying silently before him.

 

People looked at him and only saw the General and they would look at Tseng and only see the Turk. Both of them were defined by their positions. Sephiroth knew, too well, how it felt to be seen as a one dimensional being, devoid of emotion or character. He was surprised to find such common ground between them.

 

 

 

Day 4

 

“Do you ever regret becoming a Turk?” Sephiroth asked, as Tseng passed him his bowl of tea the next morning.

 

“Do you ever regret becoming a General?” Tseng muttered back. Sephiroth's eyebrow raised in surprise at the Turks argumentative response. The dark haired man was beginning to look worn after four days of near starvation and the general had to remind himself that the Turk was not augmented as he was. Maybe he would get the chance to see more of the real man, hidden beneath the mask, as the days wore on.

 

“Yes, I do sometimes wish that I had the opportunity to be something different,” Sephiroth said, deciding not to point out that Tseng's control was starting to slip. Tseng glanced over at him, his eyes unsure.

 

“I once wished that my life was different, but not anymore. It is a pointless train of thought. One cannot change the past,” he stated, turning away as he started sharing out the sour berries.

 

Sephiroth regarded Tseng silently, watching his natural grace as he went about his task. He had brought up a good point. One could not change their past, however much one might wish to. The General was mildly impressed with the man's acceptance of what he had. He could not find that peace within himself. Every person he came in contact with illustrated to him what was missing. Every day made him wish for more.

 

**.**

 

Tseng found his eyes being drawn back to the General, despite his attempts to force them away. Why Sephiroth had suddenly decided to take an interest in him was predictable. He was simply trying to start a conversation to pass time and interrupt the boredom. What the Turk was struggling with was why it had annoyed him so much. Being so close to the legendary soldier was affecting him in a strange way. He surmised it was the lack of decent nutrition. Four days of sour berries was enough to make anyone go a little nuts. Gods, he'd kill for a handful of nuts right now. Honestly, he'd kill for anything that wasn't a damn berry. He grimaced as he swallowed the last of his breakfast, still staring at the force of nature before him.

 

Sephiroth seemed unaffected by the lack of nutrition. He was obviously bored and unimpressed with their current situation, but his demeanor of intense regality was still firmly in place.

 

“I believe it is my turn to forage for our dinner,” the General stated, standing and striding out of the cabin without glancing in his direction. Tseng watched him leave in silence, noticing the way the man flowed out of the room like liquid silver.

 

He should hate him. The General had led the invasion of his homeland and killed so many of his people. Seeing the once proud nation surrender to the Shinra corporation, just as he himself had, wounded him deeply. Sephiroth had only been following orders though, and the multitude of evil deeds that the Turk had committed while following orders, made him unable to hate him. They were more alike than Tseng cared to admit.

 

**.**

 

That night the temperature plummeted. Tseng curled up with his tattered blanket as close as he could get to the fire but he could not find enough warmth. The lack of decent food was beginning to weaken him and his body was struggling to withstand the cold.

 

He hated that Sephiroth would see him like this. On many levels, he wanted to be as strong and invincible as the Generals of Soldier seemed to be. Weakness, of any kind, was something to be ashamed of in the quiet Turk's mind.

 

Closing his eyes, he pretended to be asleep, despite his constant shivering. He felt another blanket being placed over him and the added warmth was enough to stop his shivering and let him find the slumber he was so desperately searching for.

 

**.**

 

Sephiroth watched Tseng sleeping, curled up like a child in front of the fire. He had forgotten how susceptible to the cold normal humans were.

 

The Turks shivering had finally stopped but the General knew that if the fire died down, Tseng would begin to freeze quickly with only two thin blankets to keep him warm. Add that to the dark haired man's weakened physical condition and it was a recipe for disaster. If he fell ill, there would be nothing the General could do to help him and only the gods knew when they would be found.

 

The only solution was for Sephiroth to stay awake and keep the fire going until the morning. Hopefully the weather would improve and the following nights would not be so cold.

 

 

Day 5

 

The next morning, Tseng awoke to find the General had already prepared the tea. He was crouched beside the Turk, fussing with the coals absently. Tseng took the opportunity to study the man, unnoticed.

 

Sephiroth was stunningly handsome. His silver strands framed a face more akin to an angel's than a warrior's. Perfect, unblemished and as pale as moonlight, the General's skin held no scars or imperfections thanks to the mako that preserved him. Tseng's mind supplied him with an image of Sephiroth, floating around in a bottle of pickled onions and he began to chuckle softly. Noticing the sound, Sephiroth turned around to look at him apprehensively.

 

“Are you feeling alright, Tseng?” he asked worriedly, leaning over to feel the other man's forehead. Tseng was surprised at how gentle his touch was. The Turk suddenly realized that the General thought his amusement was the result of being feverish and delusional and it amused him even more.

 

“Can I not laugh without being sick?” he chuckled out, smiling and forgetting to equip his usual mask. Sephiroth's unnatural, cat like eyes peered down at him and something deep in Tseng's chest tightened.

 

“I was unaware you knew how to laugh, Tseng,” Sephiroth answered softly, pulling back his hand and turning away. Tseng was sure he glimpsed a sudden pinkness on the General's cheeks. The mighty General Sephiroth blushing? Maybe he was delusional.

 

**.**

 

Sephiroth poked the fire, trying to ignore the sounds of mirth coming from his companion. He leant forward slightly, letting his hair fall forward to cover his embarrassment while silently cursing his automatic concern.

 

It was natural for him to be concerned over the well being of the weaker man. In all the years he had known of Tseng, he had never seen him smile. He'd never considered the stone-faced Turk knew how to. But now, starving, freezing and lost in the middle of nowhere, Tseng had found his sense of humor. Thinking he was delusional was simply the logical conclusion.

 

The blush that burned across his cheeks was another matter altogether. Looking down into Tseng's smiling eyes had sent a bolt of desire through him, completely catching him by surprise. He was mortified to realize that the observant Turk had seen him blush.

 

Closing his eyes, he tried to wipe the image from his mind. Tseng's face came alive when he smiled. His deep brown eyes glowed with joy and the sound of his laugh danced across Sephiroth's memory like a firefly.

 

Ok, maybe this was a memory he'd rather hang on to.

 

 

Day 6

 

Tseng awoke before the sun to find Sephiroth adding more wood to the fire. The General's weary appearance showed that he had not slept.

 

“Sephiroth, you need to sleep,” Tseng said wearily, yawning behind his hand as he waited for a response. The General stared into the fire, seemingly lost in thought. Tseng's eyes closed and he began to drift back to sleep.

 

“If the fire dies down, you will freeze.” The soft purr of Sephiroth's voice ran along Tseng's spine and nudged him awake.

 

“What?” the Turk mumbled. “Did you stay awake last night as well?” Sephiroth stayed silent, poking the fire and continuing to stare into its embers. Tseng may have been half asleep but he was still a Turk and Sephiroth's silence was a clear answer in the affirmative to him. Tseng didn't know whether he should be flattered by the General's concern or insulted at being treated like a fragile weakling.

 

“Gods, Sephiroth. I can assure you, I am tougher than I look. I will not perish if it goes out. Go to sleep before you pass out and fall into the damn fire.”

 

“If you get too cold, in your current weakened state, you will fall ill. We have no medicine or materia and have no idea when we will be found. It is a matter of logic that I, with my augmentation, stay awake to keep the fire going.” Sephiroth turned from the fire to face Tseng. “Is it not?”

 

“It may be logical, but it is not realistic. You cannot stay awake indefinitely.” Tseng returned the General's gaze stubbornly.

 

“Then what do you suggest?” Sephiroth asked. The Turk sighed tiredly. Good question. He looked into the fire, considering their options. Only one solution came to him and he had to suppress the urge to smile. It would be interesting to see how the mighty General responded to this one.

 

“Sharing body heat while we sleep is the only option I can see,” he replied, turning to look the General straight in the eyes. One of Sephiroth's eyebrows arched up as his eyes clouded over in thought. Minutes passed as Sephiroth considered his response and Tseng enjoyed the other man's discomfort. Tseng was a patient man. He could wait for a reply.

 

**.**

 

Sephiroth stared at Tseng, not quite believing what he'd heard. Sharing body heat while we sleep is the only option I see. They both needed to sleep and if the fire died down, his body heat would keep the Turk warm. Sensible. Logical.

 

What he couldn't understand was why the thought of sleeping next to the other man brought him so much discomfort. Why it made his heart beat faster in his chest.

 

Tseng was just lying there, looking up at him, his expression unreadable. Dark hair framing pale skin that was suddenly so alluring. He wanted to touch it. He shouldn't, but he did.

 

“Your solution is logical,” Sephiroth responded softly. His eyes were locked onto that pale face and his body, unable to move. Tseng regarded him silently, as if waiting for him to move. When he didn't, the Turk sighed and began rearranging the blankets, turning towards the fire and leaving space for Sephiroth, at his back.

 

Moments passed as the General willed his body to move. Slowly, he moved under the blankets and took his place with his back against Tseng's. His mind was spinning and his pulse was racing at the proximity. Closing his eyes, he tried to block out the sound of Tseng's breathing and the warmth of his body. Eventually, pure exhaustion won out and he drifted off to sleep.