Love Against Time

Don't own 'em, 'cept on their original video game discs as sold by Squaresoft. Otherwise put right back where they go when I'm done with them....


The one-winged angel sat upon what seemed to be nothing but air and cast his heated emerald gaze over the barren land before him. Long silky tendrils whipped around him in the fierce torrents of wind caused by the magical backlash of summoning Meteor. Along the ground tiny swirls of wind played, dust riding curves and jolts, jumping over the nine unconscious bodies that lay against the jagged edges of mutilated earth. A small smile touched the eyes of the pale creature's otherwise blank face as his gaze fell upon the one that had fought against him from the beginning. The only one which was remotely important to him, the one who had been slated for death since birth and a thorn in his side since before the days of SOLDIER. The one that had failed every test he'd put out there to limit who made it to this summit, and the only one who had come. The only one who had survived. Yes, this blond young man was his greatest enemy, and his greatest test of self strength. There was nothing left for him to do; the others had been quite annihilated. Slowly, the angel reached for the spiky haired blond, content that this would be the end. He would be able to ascend, after no real challenge. A dazzling smile spread his lips.
::I can provide you that Challenge, Cetra.::
The angel's eyes narrowed at the voice. It echoed in his mind, and he wondered who it was that had the power to penetrate his shields. He continued with his reach for the enemy, and the voice spoke again.
:: Do you not want the challenge? I imagine that with power like yours, Lord Sephiroth, that a challenge is difficult to come by. :: A color permeated his mind. Orange, for laughter.
:: You dare to mock me, do you? I'll take up this challenge of yours, if you can indeed provide it. :: Face insolence with attitude. He smirked.
:: You may not be smirking anytime soon, Lord. :: A quick flash of a ginger haired man in a taupe-ish trench coat fled across his eyes. Red cross on the back, he noted, perfect for targeting. And the scar across the nose. Easily recognizable. :: You're mine now, Son of Jenova. ::
It was then that the vertigo began, feeling as if gravity suddenly was pushing him into the earth beneath him at a cruelly dogged pace and it was using Meteor to do it. His vision swam in color, the most obnoxious of them bright pink. The colors ran together as he actually began to fall, tumbling from his magical perch like a drugged parrot. Darkness wrapped his mind in its soft embrace, but his body was not so fortunate. The rough ground sped upon him with intention to kill, though he never hit the rocks below.

The cell around him was very dark, and rather dank. Musty straw covered the floor, and in the places that were visible beneath the hay was grime and a brown, muddy looking substance that was most likely dried blood. Lots of it, by the smell. A single square of horribly artificial light tore through the pitch blackness of the room, shedding just enough light to illuminate the toilet in the corner and the small basin beside it. There were no bars on the window that the light poured through, and it seemed that the heavy metal door it was in had some sort of super locking mechanism on it. There was a ward on the room too, although there was not enough of a resonance to tell if it was done recently or a long time ago and had just faded to a simple nothing. All this he could tell with his mind, before he opened his eyes. The garish light attacked his Mako green eyes, and he blinked furiously to get them to adjust. First things first, he thought, did they leave me any belongings? A quick check told him that he had his coat and armor, but not the masamune, which made sense if he were to be a prisoner. That meant that most of his materia was gone. He checked his gauntlets and bangles, finding that the Mako crystals had been removed. Pausing briefly, he wondered how it was that he'd been reverted back to his human form. Narrowing his eyes, he continued his inspection. Coat, pants, boots, weapon cases, armor; everything he'd have normally was there, except for the materia and the sword. Gently he pressed his fingertips to his abdomen and probed. The muscles there parted slightly, and beneath them he could feel the five round materia spheres that he had absorbed in his transformation to Bizzarro. A small grin graced his lips, and he chuckled as he stood. Yes, the General thought, they'll regret not searching me thoroughly enough.
Tracing a slender hand along one wall of the nine by nine cube, he searched out the wards that had been placed there. Yes, he thought, these are very fresh. Almost as if they were designed specifically for me. His grin grew into a smile. Perhaps the man would deliver on his promise of a Challenge. He traversed the door, sliding his hand up to the sill of the window. Slender fingers encountered a solid resistance there, as if there was glass. But there was none, for this was the only passage way for air, meaning that they had put up a breathable barrier. Oh they are good, he thought. Yes, very good. Outside was a white, sterile looking hallway filled white, brash, fluorescent light.
Deciding that there would be nothing better to do for a while, he took his attentions away from the warding. If he were to sleep, he'd need some kind of bedding. Glancing around the cell, he found nothing but mounds of decaying straw. No cloth from previous inhabitants. Snorting, he gathered up the straw and packed it together. Managing to get it to stick together long enough to use a catchepillar web from his skill materia, he wound himself a mattress. He used all of the straw from the side of the room opposite the toilet. When he was done, he pushed the mattress as far from the toilet as he could so as to preserve some sort of cleanliness. Sitting back on his heals, he observed his handy work. It was satisfactory, though he could have done better. Doing so would have required more magic, and letting them know he still had it was a great risk. Tired, but not exhausted, Sephiroth pulled one of the cushions out of the bottom of his left boot. Drenching it with water, he began to scrub the floor on what would be his side of the cell should they throw someone in there with him.
Tired and sweating, the white-haired god flopped down onto the mattress. He'd worn the boot cushion to little pieces about the size of pill bugs. The floor did look much better though. And it wasn't so foul smelling. There was a brief click, and the light from the hall ceased. Wondering if he was the only person in this place, he shifted so that he could rest easily, and his eyes closed and sleep drifted over him.

He was dreaming that dream again. The one where he had no control over himself. He was in Nibelheim, the night he'd burned it. It was different than it had been in reality. Here, he'd had that blond Shin-Ra lackey in his bed; well it had been the desk in the basement of the Shin-Ra mansion, but that was beside the point. Zax had come down searching for him, and instead had found Cloud. That was long before Sephiroth had known the extent of the cloning. Even afterward, he knew he'd be drawn to the blond and would watch him long after. All this he knew here in this place, but he'd not anticipated Zax's reaction to finding their junior officer in his arms...and bent over the desk. The golden eyed SOLDIER roared in anger and lunged at the General, being the first ever to take him by surprise. Sephiroth's first action was to protect Cloud, covering the other's fragile body with his own. Zax wrapped his arms around the General's pale torso, digging his fingernails in and drew blood. The white-haired man was flung into one of the towering bookshelves, sending dusty books flying. There was a musty haze around his vision, then a quick flash of creamy flesh tone. Looking up to his attacking junior, Sephiroth found the Shin-Ra underling standing in his defense. He saw Zax's eyes soften and cloud over with confusion. A sudden draw to Cloud engulfed him suddenly, and he realized that his materia's power was being sucked into the blond. Mako green eyes widened as the boy blasted Zax with Ultima. Zax's form shifted to that of Jenova amidst the noxious green fog.
"NO!" Sephiroth howled. Jenova was the source of his power; he needed her to gain the ability to control Meteor. But he himself forgot her power as she reached out with a bloody tentacle and wrapped it around Cloud's throat. This time, Sephiroth's voice failed him, but his mind and body moved with even a speed that Jenova had not foreseen. His hand was on her forehead, unleashing a Shadow Flare beyond Ultima Weapon's abilities. Jenova screeched and vaporized before he could fathom what he had done. Turning, he found Cloud on the ground whimpering. He gath his his clone in his arms, cooing softly to the frightened boy.
"No," he whimpered. "Let me go!" This was where the dream shifted. Where he lost all his ability to even comprehend what was happening. Cloud was suddenly standing beside him, giving him The Look. The I-want-you-look. He always doubted that the blond knew the expression he wore. There was nothing he could do about what came next, it always the happened the same way. Their clothes dissolved and Sephiroth was advancing on the blond. Cloud's blue eyes grew wide and fearful suddenly, and he was trapped against a wall. Not being able to stop his hand, it rose to the other's cheek and slid into the unruly spikes of silk atop his head. His fingers twisted and tangled in the softness, and then he forced his mouth on Cloud's. Muffled cries clawed themselves free of the smaller man's lips, and he pushed Sephiroth away. "No!" he screamed. "I don't want this." Sephiroth pinned him against the wall, grasping both his wrists in one hand and groping with the other. "No!" Cloud was saying. "NO! Let go of me!" His voice heightened to yells.
A heavy thud against his doors, the screams of a familiar voice ringing in his ears. Sephiroth stirred uneasily in his sleep, troubled by the tone of Cloudoiceoice. He sat up abruptly as he realized that he could actually hear Cloud's voice. The metal door was slammed open and a lanky figure thrown to the floor. Gruff guards spat at the newcomer and dragged the door shut, blocking out most of the light from the hall.

The man sat up from his landing place on the floor and glared at the door. The small square of light shone on his face, illuminating the pale, delicate features lined in anger. Mako infused eyes glowed brightly, even in the light, emotions running high. Through the heavy darkness surrounding the light, Sephiroth could see Cloud's hands clenching in and out of fists. After a moment, Cloud dropped his head into his hands anghedghed. He had been separated from his friends and was alone in a world he'd never seen. Without his materia and the Buster sword, he was missing everything that would have comforted him in this unfamiliar place. Tears threatened to cross the borders his eyelashes made, the one that kept his weakness from the world. Sighing again, he fell back into the straw. It was then that he noticed that only half the room had straw on the floor, which meant that there was someone in there WITH him. Sitting up, he slowly turned around. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he saw a figure sitting on a mattress. Mako Blue met with Green, and each held the gaze for a very long while.