Okay, not too much of a wait, though dear Gaia, I don't think a Decorum has ever taken me this long to write. I'm really glad to finally have this one out, as it's been germinating in my head a long time, and when I checked, I was shocked to realize how long it's been since the last Decorum. The series is not over, I have at LEAST one more I'll need to do, and I will only let this universe go very reluctantly.

Squeenix owns these characters, also my soul. On to the angst.

IRREPLACEABLE
Part 2

"It's not like you to make me repeat myself. Are you feeling differently?"

He was, but not in the way Hojo certainly meant, and not in a way he wanted to explain to the scientist, even if he thought he could.

"No, Doctor," Sephiroth said, looking at the floor and hating himself for how small his voice was. How small he felt and always did with those cold eyes staring at him.

"Hojo," Hollander said, always trying to keep peace in the science lab, "the environmental filter system is state-of-the-art, and I can turn it to maximum."

"When the last of the pathogen tests are concluded, and not before."

"Angeal is in there right now, because – "

"Because you are free to handle your patients in your way," Hojo said with a dismissive hand gesture. "Sephiroth is mine."

I'm not. Genesis says I'm not, he says I don't belong to anyone but myself, and Genesis is…

"I think Genesis is dying," the boy said to the white tiled floor, managing to keep his voice as even and smooth as it usually was.

Hollander started, but Hojo spoke before he could, sharply, probing. "Did you hear something before? A voice?"

"No, Doctor." Why is he asking that?

"Then how could you possibly know such a thing?" Hojo let out a mirthless laugh. "I know very well you resist learning every bit of science and medicine I could be teaching you, which I allow because your true talents lay elsewhere, but you cannot possibly – "

Hollander interrupted, braver than he usually was, and gently, because he always tried to be gentle with Sephiroth. "Why do you think this, Sephiroth?"

"I don't know. Call it instinct."

"Hojo, if he's right – "

"Don't be more of a fool than you usually are. Your little miscreants have got it into my patient's head that he needs to show concern he doesn't feel – "

"How can you say that?" Hollander almost shouted, making both of them start, neither having ever heard him speak at such volume. "Genesis and Angeal are his best friends, of course he's – "

"Worried?" Hojo smirked, and locked his uncomfortable glare on his son. "Are you worried, Sephiroth?"

The boy had resolved long ago that he would never, when possible, let Hojo know his true feelings again, because they were always either ridiculed, or used against him, or both. He had let his fondness for Dr. Gast be visible, only to be told one day that the kind man had left, not caring enough to stay. He had shown a liking for one of the laboratory rats, given it a Wutaian name, and had to watch with no change of expression when Hojo idly declared it of no use and broke its neck. As much as Sephiroth wanted to do something, anything with this unease swirling in his stomach and everywhere else, he could not expose his heart to be shot at. He had been trained for battle too well.

"…no, Doctor."

"You don't need to go in there, my boy," Hojo said in an almost painfully-fake tone of affection. "The brat will recover as he always does. I believe you're due to spar with some of the 2nds in the training rooms…unless you're feeling something unusual, which I trust you would tell me, as you know you're supposed to do."

"I am fine."

"Report back here in one hour for vitals."

Both scientists observed the teenager, one with pity, one with triumph, and noticed at the same time the small red puddle forming on the stark-white floor. Sephiroth was digging the nails of his left hand into the skin so deeply that he had cut through the glove. Hollander quickly grabbed a sterile cloth from a cupboard behind him, but Hojo, who rarely made any show of physical strength, actually shoved his colleague back.

"You've been handling a sick patient, don't touch him." Hojo turned to look at Sephiroth, and spoke with the false-kind tone again. "I trust you merely forgot your own strength, boy. Am I right?"

"…yes, Doctor. My apologies."

"Before you go, take a Potion and one dose of the clorpramol, you know where I keep them."

"I – "

"If I can't trust you to heal yourself responsibly, you know what happens. Physical or chemical, you can choose."

Sephiroth almost winced, that offer to pick by which method he wanted to be restrained a question he was very used to from Hojo. The boy took a deep breath, and forced his clenched fist to relax.

"You can trust me, Doctor."

"Good boy." Hojo smirked as Sephiroth went past him, still looking at the floor. "Be fully healed before you leave the lab, or you won't like the consequences."

"Yes, Doctor."

Hollander, who usually deferred weakly and quietly to Hojo, waited until they were alone before almost hissing, "I always think I know the depths of your heartlessness, and then you surprise me."

Hojo hid his surprise at the statement, and rolled his eyes. "Your brat's tendency toward drama is affecting my subject. That needs to be curbed now."

"He's your own – "

"Subject," Hojo finished, in a warning tone. "Yes. Mine. Worry about your own."

Hojo stalked out of the room with a small smirk, taking joy in even the smallest triumphs as he always did. Hollander didn't see this one, because he was looking at the bloodstained floor, and letting tears fall upon it.

agsagsaga

"Gen, this is not the time to be dramatic. What do you want to talk about? News from Mideel? Or I can read some more, if you like…"

"'Gealy." Genesis's eyes opened again, and the other boy noticed they were dimmer than usual, as though the ever-fluctuating mako level was low. "You know this time it's different. That's why you were willing to read what you usually dismiss as drivel."

"It's not so bad. Hey, I heard that Choir is touring again in the summer, we can go again. Remember, even Seph liked – "

"Seph," Genesis broke in sadly. "I would've liked to make him endure one last hug."

"Gen!" Angeal almost yelled, then winced apologetically and softened his voice. "Don't talk like this. Please."

His voice almost broke on the last word. With effort, Genesis lifted his arms, and Angeal at once hoisted the elder's upper body up into a tight embrace, breathing in the clean-outdoors scent Genesis had brought into the lab with him. The part of him that knew Genesis was right was fighting furiously with the part of him, the bulk of him, that didn't know what he was going to do if the form and soul he was holding ever went away.

"'Gealy…"

"You can't be. You can't. You're 16, you're perfect…"

"Flattery can't fix everything," Genesis weakly laughed into Angeal's warm neck.

"…we've had so little time."

"But more than most people ever do."

Genesis maneuvered his lips to the younger boy's again, and they kissed, close-mouthed, chastely, but for a long time, before Genesis sighed and rubbed his nose against Angeal's, smiling and waiting for Angeal to try to reflect the expression back to him.

"We were going to be parents. I have you convinced, don't I?"

"You're going to be. I'll have to do my share long-distance, but you're going to be a parent, 'Gealy."

"What? How do you know?"

Genesis waited a moment before answering, almost guiltily, but with a strange, faraway happiness in his eyes. Angeal had not seen this yet many times in his military life but would afterward, the distant peace in the face of the dying.

"I can hear Her. Just little bits, about different things. 'Gealy, She's so much bigger even than I imagined, but small too, touching all of us at the same time, and especially at a time like now…" Genesis laughed, and Angeal found it the same beautiful sound as always. "You're never going to guess who our baby is…it's going to be such a nice surprise."

"Is? I don't understand."

"Almost as pretty as our current baby, too. That's going to cause you no end of headaches, my love." Genesis's smirk turned into a thoughtful frown. "'Geal, you've got to look after him. Protect him. From himself most of all."

Angeal didn't have to check who he was speaking of. "Of course, I'll always look after Seph, but so will you."

Genesis's eyes moved, like he was watching or reading something distant, then he grinned so widely he briefly looked perfectly healthy. "Two of them, like I joked? And…the same…oh, Gaia, my lady, thank you. It'll be a while yet, but thank you."

Angeal wasn't totally unused to Genesis speaking to and of the Goddess like a friend, but was otherwise puzzled. "Gen?"

The wide smile didn't falter. "He's going to love, and be loved. Thank you…"

agsagsags

Jason Hitchcock, currently a 2nd Class SOLDIER but about to be promoted, destined to be high-ranking and trusted by SOLDIER's leaders, knew something was wrong with their as-yet-unranked-but-basically-official leader. Yes, Sephiroth's spar-fighting (a toned-down, careful version of his actual fighting) was flawless as usual, no mistakes, no audible breathing or sign of exertion; the boy moved as fluidly as a dancer, getting not so much as a tangle in his famous hair. And it was not unusual to see him unsmiling and serious. But Hitchcock was perceptive, possessing the people skills that were part of why the future-general would come to rely on him so much, and he knew the kid was preoccupied.

At a convenient time, Hitchcock put his hand up to signal halt. "Sephiroth, are you all right? Is something wrong?"

So it hasn't become common knowledge yet. Surprising himself, Sephiroth (shortly, but still…) explained what was happening with Genesis. Hitchcock looked concerned, and sheathed his sword.

"You shouldn't be training right now. You're distracted, you could get hurt."

Sephiroth looked at him questioningly, always did when anyone assumed him capable of such a thing. Recognizing this, Hitchcock tried to remember any time he'd witnessed or heard of Sephiroth taking an injury. He couldn't think of one…but the kid did look glum, or at least more serious than normal.

Hitchcock tried something else. "Tea's good when you're stressed. I'll go get you some."

Before the other could protest, Jason was jogging out the door, hoping his absence would mean Sephiroth would sheath Masamune. He did after several moments, and immediately missed the comforting feel of its hilt in his hand. He heard the empty room's door open behind him, sensed the presence of mako (meaning SOLDIERs), but didn't move or say anything while Lieutenant Addams came to stand in front of him, and he sensed another (surely Godell, they were always together) behind him.

"We heard about Genesis," Addams said, in a sympathetic voice that sounded fake even to Sephiroth. "We're so sorry."

"He may recover."

"Still, this must be a hard time for you. Maybe we can help, with some distraction."

Sephiroth was about to halfheartedly offer a spar, then felt his voice vanish. Addams was stepping closer, reaching a hand toward his face, at the same time that Godell's hands touched his waist in a manner that seemed more intimate than that of a comrade. Fingers swept over Sephiroth's cheek, their owner quietly marveling at how smooth he was, following when the boy automatically turned away.

"I know you're not experienced at this," Addams said in a strange voice, "but you let us help you with new stuff, right? Let us help you."

Sephiroth felt frozen, opened his mouth to protest and then lost his voice again when Godell murmured, "Be a good boy," Hojo-type words, and stepped closer, pushing against his backside something the boy needed a moment to identify. (He knew anatomy from lessons, however unfamiliar with it practically he was.) But then Addams was running fingers through his silver hair, and no. He didn't let anyone but Genesis do that, and Genesis was –

"Don't touch me," the teenager said in a low, warning voice.

The interruption that happened just then saved the 2nds' lives. Before they could try to insist, before Sephiroth could create more death at a time when he wanted less, the automatic door swooshed open, and a familiar, perpetual scowl glanced their way and went immediately harsher. Lieutenant Levine, at the time a barely-making-it SOLDIER who would leave the program soon after but remain in Sephiroth's personal employ, was rapidly stalking toward them.

"What the hell are you doing? Get your fucking hands off of him before I report you for assault on a minor!"

"Piss off, Levine, this is none of your – "

"Get out, both of you," Sephiroth growled, "if you value your lives."

Addams and Godell both heard the warning in the voice, and after exchanging glances they quickly excused themselves. Levine looked at his several-years-younger superior with a concern he showed to and for no one else.

"Sir, are you all right? Can I get you anything?"

Sephiroth was looking at him analytically, the way he did at everything he didn't understand. After a moment, he seemed to have made up his mind, and offered a faint smile.

"No. Thank you, Levine. Did you come to spar?"

"I think we both know I'm beyond help," the young man said dryly, Sephiroth not able to tell if he was joking or not. "I just heard Genesis was ill, and worried for you."

Another faint smile. "Thank you, but I – "

Sephiroth made a choked, gasping sound, and Levine only had time to see his eyes flash green and cat-like before the younger boy was swaying on his feet, starting, it seemed, to fall. Levine instinctively caught him, held the surprisingly-light body with a care no one had thought him capable of.

"Sephiroth? Are you all right?"

"He's going. I can't tell him…"

"He knows," Levine said, because it seemed like the right thing, and he dared hug this slender form until it regained strength. "I'm sure he knows."

agsagsags

"Tell him I love him."

"Gen – "

"I know he knows. Tell him anyway. Don't ever let him forget."

"Gen, please."

"I'm sorry, 'Gealy." Genesis weakly stroked the face his fingers were held to. "I'd stay for you if I could, no matter what, but She's calling me. She's so close."

Angeal's mind was racing through every life-saving technique he'd ever seen or read about, from first-aid use of Medical Sense to the Illyrian folk method of using copper bracelets to bind the dying to life on the planet. He couldn't summon anything stronger than the pained but resigned knowing in his boyfriend's dimming blue eyes. Deep down, Angeal knew Genesis was right about what was happening, and despite the grief already filling him, he knew he would not, even if he could, hold Genesis to this weakening and failing body, not when the Goddess he loved so well was beckoning him to a peace beyond life.

"It will seem a long time to me," Angeal began, stroking Genesis's hair and face, dropping tears on and around them, "until I see you again. But I believe, I have to believe, that it won't seem long to you."

Genesis smiled, that almost-healthy expression again, and ran his thumb over the chin where stubble would later grow. "Nothing will forestall your return. I know. Don't rush, 'Gealy. Love as much as you can, for as long as you can. And when it's your time, I'll be the first face you see. I promise."

"Gen…"

Angeal bent down for one last kiss, a slow, gentle one that he didn't break until Genesis stopped responding, and the body that had lived for vitality and motion was awkwardly, almost unforgivably still. Angeal pressed his face to the still, silent chest and sobbed hard, barely reacting when he felt Hollander's hand on his shoulder and heard the soft sound of his guardian weeping. He was never sure afterward how long just the two of them had been there, silent sentinels save the murmur of crying, before the door swished open and Sephiroth was approaching (with much less than his usual grace, Angeal would remember later), followed closely by Hojo.

"Tests are all back. Not contagious," the higher-ranked scientist said shortly, without emotion.

"He's gone," Hollander said harshly, then softened his tone. "Boys, I'm so sorry. But he's in a better place."

Angeal straightened up, tears still falling, to look at Sephiroth, at what his life had left. The 14-year-old wore a slightly-distressed version of his usual blankness, but though he couldn't be sure exactly how at this distance, something was different about the boy's eyes; they seemed to be getting greener slowly but steadily. He looked surprised, and to Angeal's perceptive gaze, also hurt, like someone had hit him, though Angeal couldn't remember the last time anyone had landed a blow on Sephiroth. He looked…for one of the few times the best friend would ever see, Sephiroth looked like the child he was.

"Seph…" He began, then realized he didn't know what to say.

Hojo stepped forward, making everyone tense, and clapped a hand on Sephiroth's shoulder. Staring at Genesis's body, the boy didn't even flinch.

"This will never happen to you." To the scientist's credit, he didn't say it triumphantly, just matter-of-factly.

Wordlessly, the silver-haired boy shook off the cold hand (Hojo blinked with surprise before quickly recovering his disinterested frown) and stiffly left the room. Angeal felt as though he were in a daze as Hojo excused himself, as Hollander spouted more platitudes, as Dr. Miner who Genesis had liked okay and lab assistant Calla who he'd always been chivalrously flirty with came in, casting Medical Sense and taking various vitals to be sure of what Angeal already knew – he was dead, truly gone, not in the way a Phoenix Down will remedy or magic can reverse.

Gone. Gaia…he's gone. Angeal wished he could say something to Calla, who was also crying while bravely doing her job, but the words wouldn't come. It was her who whispered, "Angeal, I'm so sorry," and he nodded his thanks with a head that felt numb…and heavy, like life always was when you really think about it. Dr. Miner had stepped out of the room for some reason…now he rushed back in and closed the door, seemingly panicked.

"Everyone, stay where you are!"

"What's going on?" Hollander asked for all of them.

"Sephiroth…he's…he's destroying the lab. The techs are trying to distract him while Hojo prepares a tranquilizer dart – "

Angeal leaped up quickly, though was a bit slower to release Genesis's cooling hand. "I'll go to him."

"Angeal, he's too dangerous right now…he may have gotten a bad batch of mako the other day – "

"He's grieving," Angeal said forcefully. "He's grieving and he doesn't know how. Calla, will you stay with…?"

"Of course," the blond girl said at once. "I'll make sure he's not alone for a single moment."

"Thank you."

With both doctors protesting weakly, Angeal moved with purpose, much less heavy now that he had something productive to do. Genesis was gone, and it hadn't fully hit him yet, it was sinking into his skin like poison or the antidote for it, maybe both, he wasn't sure yet. But he knew Sephiroth needed him, the half of his heart Gaia had left him with.

The main room of the lab was in chaos when he reached it, machines ripped from their stations and hurled at walls, the floor bearing burn-black scorch marks, lab techs alternately trying to surround Sephiroth and running away from him. Angeal barely registered the sight of Hojo loading a tranquilizer dart-gun before Sephiroth, perhaps sensing his mako, turned to face his remaining best friend.

The sight was strangely beautiful, the angelic silver-haired boy standing with Masamune drawn, hair moving in some unfelt breeze, his body lit by a tall fire behind him that two brave techs were hitting with chemical spray. Sephiroth's face was tilted downward, but slowly it lifted, and Angeal's stomach twisted into a knot to see an almost-cruel smile on it.

"Seph."

The green eyes twitched silver, then back again. The smile faded into a frown, an expression almost of pleading, before the usual blank expression took over.

"Seph…I know. I know how much you're hurting. All we can do now is help each other. Let me help you."

"The planet…" Sephiroth's voice was always pleasant and smooth, now it was almost seductive, though colder than the white foam that was getting the background fire under control. "The planet is…"

Angeal slowly approached, his hands up, whether to surrender or try to hug was anyone's guess. "Seph."

"The planet…is…"

"Is fallible, Seph. The gods are like children sometimes, they grab for something and take it away, and we're not told why, or if there is any reason. Death takes, and it takes, and we're left to pick up the pieces, and I know, I know what you're trying so hard not to feel, but the only way out of this is through it. Together."

"The…planet…"

"The planet is life, Seph. Sometimes it takes, and it feels like not enough is coming back. The planet is human, Seph, like us. But I swear, everything's going to be okay."

Sephiroth's left hand, gripping Masamune, slowly lowered, the movement like a dancer's, until the tip of the blade scraped the floor. A beautiful confusion passed through the boy's expression, then stayed there as he looked at Angeal, as the green in his eyes dissolved into pure mercury. Angeal started to walk to him just as a 'ping' sound broke the almost-silence, a dart flew from Hojo's gun into Sephiroth's back, and the boy blinked a few times, then began to fall.

Angeal rushed forward with a SOLDIER's reflexes and speed, scowling at Hojo as he protectively pulled Sephiroth into his arms. "He was coming out of it, you didn't have to – "

"Mako psychosis," Hojo interrupted, adjusting his glasses. "Delayed reaction to a bad batch two days ago, obviously."

Angeal, for the sake of peace, had always been as polite to Hojo as he could stand to be, but now he looked at him with as much dislike as the scientist had ever seen from the boy. "You don't really believe that."

"I'll chalk your attitude up to grief, Hewley, and let it go."

There was no sympathy in the shrill voice. Hojo started to come closer with hands held out, and yet another rebellion – Angeal held Sephiroth tighter and turned slightly, making it very clear he was not handing over what Hojo was intending to take.

"There are limits to what I'll tolerate," Hojo said coolly. "Sephiroth needs mako-draining, at once."

"I'll take him wherever you want him to be. I'll do it."

"Fine."

The biologist waved his hand imperiously in a gesture of 'Follow,' but first Angeal took a moment to hug his friend. Before he hoisted the boy over his shoulder for easy carrying (I always forget how light Seph is) he noted, with a fresh wave of pain, what he felt on the shoulder Sephiroth's face was pressed to. The place where his now-shut eyes rested was wet.

agsagsags

I would never want you to grieve for me. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't touched.

…Genesis? All was black somehow, but not darkness. It was as though the emptiness itself was lit…but the light had no color either, or source that he could see. Where are you?

Where Gast told you we all eventually go. He misses you, by the way.

…the Lifestream?

Indeed. Where there is no time, no trouble. Where we circle the planet and give strength to those left behind. I'll never be far away. I'll always be lending my strength, such as it is, to you and 'Gealy.

Will Angeal be all right?

Don't worry. He still has you to lean on, and I expect you to take care of him as best you can. I leave him to you and you to him, but in several years' time, help will come to both your hearts. Genesis laughed, such an alive sound. You'll both resist, especially you, but the Goddess will send you the one you're each lacking, in your own ways.

I don't understand.

Sorry, darling. We have to be kind of cryptic here. Too much warning about the future can put it in jeopardy.

I am sorry…I wasn't able to say goodbye.

Say it now, then. But not goodbye. Just…see you again someday.

Genesis…

It's going to be okay, Seph. It's going to be okay. It's going to –

"…be okay, Seph. You're going to be okay."

The peace of the dark-bright empty place vanished suddenly enough to make him briefly dizzy, and Sephiroth was immediately confused. The dim room was recognizable as part of the labs, the padded exam table one he had been on before, and Angeal was there, speaking and holding his hand, a common gesture between Sephiroth and the friends determined to show him touch was more than restraint and needles.

But everything else made no sense. He had been walking out of the room where Genesis no longer was, then a blank, then the place Genesis's voice had been echoing, and now he was wearing one of the blue hospital gowns he hated, with an IV in one arm and the sense memory there had been another needle…and oddest of all, Sephiroth felt weak, more so than the slight unwellness mako adjustment sometimes caused and which passed quickly. His limbs felt heavy, he felt all over like what Genesis had once described to him in the throes of…what was the word? Flu, something like that?

Greatly disliking this sensation, the boy tried to sit up, and it took him a moment, and Angeal inconspicuously reaching a hand around him to help lift his back. While Sephiroth willed the faint dizziness to dissipate, as it did, Angeal grabbed a bottle of water from the nearby counter and put it in Sephiroth's refusing-to-shake hand. The younger boy drank most of it in one swallow, then nodded his thanks as Angeal put it aside.

"How do you feel?"

"What happened?"

Typical Sephiroth, dismissing his own well-being and merely wanting information. Angeal obliged, ignoring the hunch that Sephiroth would want him to retract his supporting hand. He left it right where it was.

"Hojo says you got contaminated mako. You kind of flipped out and destroyed part of the lab. He sedated you and drained the…faulty mako, said you should rest a little while before it's replaced. That plus the sedative is why you feel…"

"Weak," Sephiroth murmured the word Angeal was too kind to.

"You're not, though. You never have been."

Sephiroth slowly turned his head, looking Angeal directly in the eyes, an action he usually did not like to do with anyone. "I am sorry, Angeal. For you…for Genesis."

Angeal nodded, gave him a brave, sad smile. "Me, too. I keep telling myself to remember he can't suffer anymore, he's in a perfect world now, all the things adults and scientists have always told me. But selfishly, I just want him here."

"Not selfish."

"Hmm?"

"You took such good care of him, always. It seems logical that you hesitate to trust anyone else's care of him. Even the Goddess."

Angeal blinked, then smiled again, stronger this time. "Sometimes you really are perceptive, you know that?"

The younger boy scoffed, knowing that one of the few gaps in his intelligence was how normal people work. But though he didn't show it, he appreciated Angeal's words. Just like he had always appreciated Genesis's compliments and concerned cooing, even though he rarely understood or agreed with them.

Genesis is gone. "Do they…know what happened? Why…?"

Angeal kindly disregarded Sephiroth's uncharacteristic halting. "Hollander says we may never know…though he did mention that last month my and Genesis's mako solutions were slightly altered. I don't think…I mean, I'm fine, after all…but I think right now he just wants to blame himself."

"Why?"

"Because guilt isn't as painful as grief."

"I don't like this."

Sephiroth hadn't meant to say that childish thing aloud, but before he could even regret it he was being gently pulled closer to Angeal, and the hand propping him up from behind became two broad, warm, supporting arms around him. Even if he'd had the strength to pull away, he didn't have the heart, however uneasy he was with physical affection. Genesis had been the exception, and Angeal, but to a lesser extent. Was Angeal taking Genesis's place in that way, Sephiroth wondered. Strangely, at the moment, he found he didn't mind, if so.

Using what strength he had, the younger boy hugged Angeal back, each boy resting his chin on one of the other's shoulders. After a few moments, Angeal started to shake with sobs, and warm droplets could be felt falling onto the thin garment Sephiroth wore. Angeal had always said, when in doubt, do the next right thing, and had also told Sephiroth that his instincts were good, and to trust them. Doing just that, Sephiroth tightened his hold, for once not needing to mind his superior strength, and whispered, "I am here."

Feeling safe, knowing now that Sephiroth was safe, Angeal let go, let the build-up of agony come to the surface and the tears flow until the wall he was looking at became an unrecognizable blur. For what seemed like an entire adolescent lifetime, Angeal released his sadness in this way, knowing that the deep well of it inside him would never run dry, just give him breaks between needing to cry, that he would never get over this loss but only, hopefully, learn how to live with it, to do what Genesis had commanded. At last, the tears stopped for now, but during their long escape, Sephiroth's grip did not slacken, and he showed no sign of wanting to be let go.

Thank you, Seph.

As Angeal got ahold of himself, knew he had to get back to the business of living, he made another gesture, wondering if Sephiroth would allow it. He slowly lay one hand on the long silver silk of the boy's hair and stroked it, that action only Genesis had been permitted. Sephiroth reacted with a soft sigh, but gave no sign of displeasure as new but also familiar fingers combed through the sleek strands. No wonder Genesis had hardly been able to keep his hands off it, it was as smooth and sleek as water.

Surprising and pleasing Angeal, Sephiroth tolerated the touching for a few minutes, then gently shifted to signal he wanted to sit back. Angeal let him, but left one hand on the younger boy's back until he was confident he could sit up on his own. Then he folded his hand around one of Sephiroth's, always faintly startled by how soft the cool skin was, and smiled sadly when Sephiroth immediately squeezed back.

"When you were…you know, out of it, you mentioned the planet. Do you remember?"

"No," Sephiroth said honestly. "What did I say?"

"You just kept repeating, 'The planet is…'"

"I wonder what I was thinking. I think…I remember your voice. What were you saying?"

Angeal shrugged. "Basically just that the planet is fallible, is human like us. Gen told me once to not let you forget that you're human."

Genesis never wanted me to feel alone. "I do not think I'm not. Just…different."

Angeal frowned, hearing Hojo in that last word. "You're part of humanity, though. Otherwise you wouldn't be such a good friend to us."

Looking downward, Sephiroth murmured, "You are my humanity, Angeal." You and Gen. "I never mean to push you away. Only that. Please remember."

"I know. I know. Gen asked me to remind you of how much he loved you. Please always remember that I do, too."

Though not nearly as uneasy with the L-word as Sephiroth, Angeal did not say such things often or lightly. Hearing this, Sephiroth felt a strange sensation, as though inside his chest he felt warmer than the ambient temperature. The unique boy, regardless of climate conditions, never felt uncomfortably hot or cold…but this, somehow, was not at all uncomfortable.

"How do we proceed?" Sephiroth asked, after a pause.

Angeal thought for a moment, then smiled. "Remember that time a Banoran hedge snake snuck into our picnic basket, and Gen pulled it out thinking it was a sausage?"

Sephiroth reflected the smile. "He screamed so loud that Dr. Hollander came running, and insisted he needed anti-venom even though that species does not have fangs."

"Your turn. Tell me a memory."

This is how we proceed.

agsagsags

"'Away, melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.'"

It would not go, the tremendous feeling of loss, of incompleteness. Those who had been closest to Genesis knew he was widely admired and desired, but the aftermath of his death showed them also how much he was liked. ShinRa was unable to hold an official funeral, as Mayor Rhapsodos and his wife insisted they handle that, and it be done in Banora, but the SOLDIERs who rallied around Angeal and Sephiroth in support put together a celebration of Genesis's life in the main banquet hall, which was attended by, in addition to SOLDIERs, Turks, lab employees, executives, and a few various others who had been fond of Genesis or felt some kind of debt to him.

Angeal threw himself into preparing for the event, even though everyone else would have gladly spared him the work. The hall was decked out stylishly rather than somberly, Genesis's trademark red complementing the elegant black, with thoughtful touches like the boy's favorite red lilies and apple blossoms from Banora. Sephiroth, in a rare move, used his influence to swiftly book Genesis's favorite choir, the one the friends had once snuck out to see, and they performed several of his most-loved pieces. Speeches were made contrasting words of mourning with lighter, witty remarks that Genesis would have approved of, and probably tried to take credit for. Sephiroth could not bring himself to speak, but Angeal said some words, most of them from his favorite poem, the one he was intoning now.

"'Are not the trees green,
The earth as green?
Does not the wind blow,
Fire leap and the rivers flow?
Away melancholy.'"

The trees were green here, the branches heavy with apples as though awaiting the boy who would never pick them with Angeal again. Banora was at its most beautiful in the spring, and it somehow seemed fitting that Genesis would return to the planet when it was at its most lush and colorful. The tree Angeal and Sephiroth knelt under, having buried the ashes beneath the marble plaque, had been Genesis's favorite, one he had kissed Angeal under, climbed fearlessly in early childhood, always stopped to greet like a friend every time he came home.

"'The ant is busy
He carrieth his meat,
All things hurry
To be eaten or eat.
Away, melancholy.'"

Sephiroth glanced toward the darkening sky, at the Rhapsodos home, then back to the plaque, and felt and pushed down a pulse of anger. The funeral the Rhapsodoses held for their only child had been more about them than Genesis, its attendees chosen for their influence and importance rather than any connection to the deceased, and though they had appeared to be grieving, even Sephiroth had sensed they were playing a part rather than truly mourning. The fancy plaque was expensive but impersonal, and on it Genesis's given name was much smaller than the family name. The mayor and his wife seemed to be hurrying, as though the life they wanted to get back to didn't have a huge hole in it.

"'Man, too, hurries,
Eats, couples, buries,
He is an animal also
With a hey ho melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.'"

The one kind gesture the Rhapsodoses had made (strongly pushed by Hollander) was to allow ShinRa to take care of Genesis's remains. As the boy had made it clear he wanted, he was cremated, and now being laid to rest in this peaceful place, where the land and the people remembered the charmingly mischievous auburn-haired child who was easily annoyed and prone to pouting, but just as quick to laugh, and to show the affection he himself had received so little of.

"'Man of all creatures
Is superlative
(Away melancholy)
He of all creatures alone
Raiseth a stone
(Away melancholy)
Into the stone, the god
Pours what he knows of good
Calling, good, God.
Away melancholy, let it go.'"

The lines made Sephiroth recall a burial he had attended for a fallen SOLDIER the previous year, where on the tombstone had been carved the phrase "To the good gods." Sephiroth, raised by scientists, had been taught that the idea of gods was simply a fear-response of uneducated men to explain things they didn't understand. Now, he felt tempted to think that if gods existed, whether they were the summon creatures no one fully understood or something even less knowable, they could not be very good if they allowed things like death to happen.

Following this thought, he heard what Genesis would have replied to that as clearly as if the boy was right beside him, that the Goddess had created death as a kindness for the old, the sick, the weary, so that after the loneliness of being in human bodies, a spirit could return to the perfect unity, the blissful togetherness of the Lifestream. And Sephiroth remembered something he'd once heard Angeal say, that the sadness following a death was not for the person who had departed, but for those left behind.

It did feel like what they were doing now, in the evening air, alone save for the Turk watching them from a distance, was for them, a way of letting a thing end so they could start a new one, of putting their before-now lives on a shelf like a volume of Loveless, but lovingly so, moving onward but periodically looking back, through the fog of grief, at the happiness that had been.

"'Speak not to me of tears,
Tyranny, pox, wars,
Saying, Can God
Stone of man's thoughts, be good?
Say rather it is enough
That the stuffed
Stone of man's good, growing,
By man's called God.
Away, melancholy, let it go.'"

Angeal's voice was steady and smooth, rarely wavering on the lines he knew so well, that he spoke like a prayer and often shared with other SOLDIERs after a death. Though not as vague or widely-debated as Loveless, the old Mideelian poem was yet somewhat cryptic, and Sephiroth had never quite understood what it was trying to say with its odd phrasing. He had asked Angeal, who had chuckled that Genesis was their resident literary expert, but then stated that what he liked most about the poem was its hope for and faith in man, that it seemed to acknowledge the unreliability of gods and instead focused on how remarkable it is that humans are able to love and give strength to one another in the face of incredible hardships.

Now, in the cool sunset air scented with apple blossom, Sephiroth finally thought he could see what Angeal had meant.

"'Man aspires
To good,
To love
Sighs;

Beaten, corrupted, dying
In his own blood lying
Yet heaves up an eye above
Cries, Love, love.
It is his virtue needs explaining,
Not his failing.

Away, melancholy,
Away with it, let it go.'"

The final lines sounded heavy, as though weighted down with everything Angeal was feeling. He set the bouquet of red lilies down on the dirt, and rested one open hand on the plaque. After about a minute, the teenager slowly got to his feet, and Sephiroth did the same. Knowing they had been given a limited amount of time to be gone, the younger boy expected Angeal to start walking back to the waiting helicopter, from which they were being watched unobtrusively by a senior Turk. (Tseng was his name, his reputation one of reliability, loyalty, and discretion, as well as, Sephiroth guessed, some measure of kindness. Half-Wutaian, the man was wearing a white armband over his suit, white being the Wutainese color of mourning.)

But although their business here was concluded, Angeal seemed hesitant to leave. Sephiroth wondered what the right thing to do was, and decided to follow his instincts, as Genesis had always told him to do. The silver-haired boy moved to stand directly beside his slightly-taller friend, and haltingly slung an arm around Angeal's broad shoulders, then rested his head lightly on one.

"The Goddess will look after him, Angeal."

An arm hooked around Sephiroth, pulled him close. "Unless he drives Her so crazy that She sends him back."

The wry statement seemed to prompt a tickling sensation in Sephiroth's stomach, and involuntarily his mouth opened, and to the boy's dismay, he was emitting laughter, that undignified sound he'd recently learned he was capable of. He got it under control quickly, hoping he hadn't offended Angeal too badly, but to his surprise, Angeal was looking at him with an amazed and grateful grin.

"I am sorry…"

"Don't be. Gen was right, it is a lovely sound, and exactly what I needed right now. Thanks, Seph."

Angeal pivoted so he was standing facing Sephiroth, and slowly, giving him ample warning, he pulled the younger boy into an embrace. Sephiroth hugged back just as tightly, finding it easier than usual to do, and silently thanked Genesis for teaching him not to fear touch, for all the little legacies the fallen SOLDIER had left behind. He resolved that he would try to be a better friend to Angeal, knowing he could never replace Genesis, but hoping he could look after Angeal as Genesis would surely want him to do. Genesis had gone into death with such peace and faith…perhaps he had known his own good heart had helped Sephiroth's begin to open, to prepare him for the loves that were to come, and the ones that were here now.

"Thank Gaia I still have you," Angeal said softly, his voice less steady now.

Sephiroth was careful not to make promises he wasn't certain he could keep, so he must have had either a glimmer of precognition or else a determination that he would make what he replied the truth, no matter the personal cost or the whims of fate. He said it with quiet certainty, determined to supplement Angeal's strength with his own.

"You will always have me."

THE END

"Away, Melancholy" was written by Stevie Smith, do not own, just love it.

Would love to know what you think, if you hate me for making you cry, etc.