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Interlude 4
---------------------------------------------------------------------- Slowly Sephiroth closed the manilla folder, shutting away Shinra's beauracratic nightmares for another day. The names and faces, problems and details, lingered in his mind like flies around a festering wound. He hated paperwork, hated this desk job, hated assigning troops to work he'd never see in person, hated not being out in the field himself. He really missed field work. The occaisional scrap, monster hunt, tidbit, that they so graciously allowed him... it was an insult really to he who had commanded the entire might of Shinra's army against Wutai. He was a field general, he needed the energy of the camps, the urgency of real war, not this sham of leadership from behind a desk. And most of all he wanted... needed... Zack beside him. Sighing, he rose to his feet, stretching gracefully as he did. Silently he padded over to the filing cabinet beside his desk, tucking the folder away amidst dozens of its kind. Closing the cabinet again, he folded his arms across the sleek, black metal, bowing his head down to rest on them. He was so tired. Tired of Shinra, tired of beauracracy, tired of SOLDIER, tired of... tired of fighting. Straightening, he ran both hands through his silver hair, absently finger-combing away a few tangles. Right now, he would even welcome the obnoxious intrusion of that red-headed Turk, would even stoop... no... un-wind so far as to accompany him to a restuarant or bar. Something, anything, to get him away from this building. His office door remained stubbornly closed, the hallway beyond silent at this hour of the night. He shook his head. There was no way he was going to face the crowds, the awe, the endless toadying of Midgar residents, by himself. There simply wasn't any restaurant in Midgar worth the effort. Grabbing his black cape from the back of his chair, he swung it around his shoulders and strode out of the room. He had no destination in mind, but his feet carried him halfway to Zack's suite before he realized what he was doing. Running on auto-pilot tonight, he thought with a weary sigh. Turning, he headed for the elevator, and his own suite.
He sighed and studied the impressive assortment of food on his plate, suddenly not hungry. He missed cooking for Zack. Not that he'd had much time to do that lately, with the new recruits in training, and monster trouble flaring on the western continent. But he would have, if he'd had time. Time.... Slowly, he picked his way through the meal, barely tasting it. His thoughts drifted away, wandering awhile amidst memories of Wutai, and a celebratory supper at the Turtle's Paradise. Zack, laughing as he toasted the officers, sparkling for a moment in a flush of wine and victory. His eyes, so bright, shining. Sephiroth smiled at the memory, searching his mind for others. His dark-haired lover spread-eagled in a field of knee-high grass, gazing rapturously up at the thin, drifting white clouds. Sephiroth leaning lightly on Masamune, the sword's bare tip buried in the earth. 'There's a war on out there, koi.' 'But not here, Seph, not here... let me have this moment....' Zack reaching up to him, drawing him down into the grass. 'Just for this moment....' His fork screeched against the empty plate, jarring his thoughts. He stared at the offending utensil blankly for a second or two before pushing back his chair. Getting up, he carried the plate into the kitchen and deposited it in the sink. He busied himself making coffee, deciding to put on a pot of decaf rather than just having a cup. As the water began to drip and hiss into the pot, he found himself at loose ends. There was nothing to do, unless he wanted to wash the dishes. He wrinkled his nose at the sink. beep beep beep Turning so fast his hair swirled around him like a silver cloak, he glared at his intercom. beep beep beeeeeep Glaring didn't stop the alarm. Irritated, he strode over to the com panel on the wall. He stabbed the speaker button. "What?" Static crackled back at him before he received a response. "There's a situation, General, Sir. Heidegger requests you join him in his office." He stabbed the speaker button again almost before the sentence was complete. "Does it really need my attention?" "Ss... sir?" The speaker's nervousness was almost palpable. "Heidegger requested...." Sephiroth sighed, leaning his head against the wall above the com panel. "Never mind. I'll be there shortly." "Yes, sir!" It was several long moments before Sephiroth could bring himself to push off the wall and don his long black cape. He needed every ounce of dignity and authority he had, and the cape itself held much of it. What he really wanted to do was curl up in bed. As he strode out of the room, the coffee pot beeped.
Pig-like eyes squinted at him narrowly. "A class five dragon roaming the RocketTown area doesn't require the General's attention?" Sephiroth glared coldly down at the fat general. "This decision did not need my attention, unless you wanted me to attend to the matter personally." Heidegger snorted. "The President --" Sephiroth nodded sharply. "I am familiar with President Shinra's policies on personnel distribution and management, Heidegger. Is there anything else you want to waste my time with?" His gaze was as sharp and dangerous as the edge of the blade he had left in his suite. Heidegger heaved himself to his feet feeling, no doubt, the pressure of being shorter than Sephiroth. "If situations which endanger the operation of this corporation are beneath you, General," he ground out between clenched teeth. "Then perhaps...." Sephiroth laughed. "Perhaps what, Heidegger? Your empty threats are pointless. Is there anything else?" He affected utter boredom and disdain. Folding his arms across his expansive chest, Heidegger reluctantly shook his head. Inclining his head, Sephiroth turned to leave. "Just be glad Hojo isn't here, Sephiroth." A cold chill ran down his spine at the softly spoken threat, but Sephiroth simply shook his head. "Empty words, Heidegger." He swept out of the room.
Words too soft for him to hear echoed inside his head. He shivered and set the mug down a little harder than he meant to. It's been so long.... Darkness swirled, momentarily blurring his vision. *... forgotten you ...* He frowned, massaging his temple. After a moment, his sight cleared and he rose. Moving to the window, he folded his arms across his chest and stared out at the sleeping city. How much longer, Hojo? What is it that keeps you, that keeps him, from coming home? The darkness rose again, unbidden. He raised one hand, palm flat against the cool glass, in a futile warding gesture. Out beyond the thick, double-plated glass, the endless never-black night of Midgar faded from his vision. The darkness in his mind was infinitely deeper, blacker, both more peaceful and more dangerous. Against his will, his eyes closed. Into the depths of the darkness crept the single pin of light, as it always did. No. Not now. Damn it.... He struggled futilely to open his eyes, fingers curling and uncurling as if he would claw his way through the plate-glass. And the pin of light swelled and grew, became a circle, became large enough to swallow him, moving forward, endlessly chasing him. His forehead hit the glass beside his hand, the dull ache from the collision barely registering in his mind. please no.... Zack... save me.... And then the light was before him and he tumbled headlong through it, to find himself standing in a place that he knew all too well. Naked as a newborn, he fell to his knees, his hair tangling around him like a blanket. what do you want with me? he asked silently, his voice soft, defeated, anguished. Blue-green light swirled around him, chilling his flesh where it touched. *... my son ...* He shook his head, curling into a tighter ball. mother.... i don't belong here. why do you bring me here? Hissing laughter, dark with madness, and the blue-green water-light caressing him. *... tell you... deserve more... world was ours ... Yours ... MINE ...* Sephiroth shivered, trying to block out the voice. Desperately, he built the image of his suite in his mind, carefully focusing on the details of the room he knew to be solid, real, beyond his reach. you're crazy, mother. let me go. The light swirled angrily, rocking his body slightly. He cried out softly as his hair lashed against his face. mother, i'm tired... let me go... let me sleep. *... always with you ... together ... rule it all ...* The darkness was rising again, reaching for him. He pulled it towards him, pushing away from the light. i don't want to rule, mother. The light swirled once more, tugging gently at his body, but he dove for the darkness, and it embraced him. Gasping, he opened his eyes to the world again, staring almost blindly at his reflection in the window. I will not go mad. I will not. But he could hear a voice, faint and indistinct, in the corners of his mind. His head began to throb as the memory faded. Moments later, he stepped away from the window, wondering why he had been standing there at all.
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