Tasting Apples

:One for the money, two for the show:

"Genesis isn't with you?"

"Genesis? You mean you're not pleased to see me?"

"That wasn't what I…"

A laugh. "Don't worry, I'm only joking…" Sometimes, Sephiroth just took things too seriously. "He wanted to do a few more drills, so he'll come in a bit later."

"Ah. I see."

It was a pleasant surprise, being able to meet up like this. Their schedules tended to clash, since they were all highly visible people, and Shinra wanted them everywhere at once, especially Sephiroth. To be able to sit down for lunch together was a blessing.

"You've known each other since you were kids, right?"

"Huh?"

"Genesis…"

"Oh. Yea."

"Then…"

Sephiroth seemed rather distracted, tugging absently at a stray lock of hair.

"Hm?"

"Never mind, it's nothing."

There was definitely something there. "What's wrong?"

"Does he… does Genesis hate me?"

A hesitation. "Why would you think that?"

"Sometimes, when we're training, it feels like he's really trying to kill me…"

Because I was, idiot.

--

He woke with the impression of someone's disappointment. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was. His wing was aching and so was his head. That's right. After bringing some bread and cheese up for Weiss, he had promptly gone and gotten utterly smashed. He figured that he deserved it. After all, all he had been doing since he awakened was to collect the pieces of the puzzle that Angeal was trying to fix. It had been a week, and enough was enough. Too bad not even the alcohol could drown out his 'best friend's' voice.

'Save him.'

If it hadn't been obvious before, it was obvious now who Angeal wanted him to save. Fine, so they talked about him behind his back. He didn't miss that pause and he didn't miss the fact that his so-called best friend didn't exactly defend him. Or enlighten the stupid bugger. No, because Angeal obviously liked Sephiroth enough not to want to push him away.

Angeal. They had been... well, 'friends' was one way to put it. 'Life-long companions' was probably closer to the reality of it. They'd known each other since they were in diapers, tied by their common involvement in Project G, though it was more than twenty years later before they found out that little tidbit. Angeal had been such a constant presence in his life that he never realized it until Angeal wasn't there anymore.

Not that he missed the bugger or anything. They were only so close because they were tied to Project G. Everything was engineered so that the two experiments could be observed together. Even their friendship… was the consequence of that engineering? No… Angeal was always Angeal, prideful, noble, perfect little Angeal. His.

No, not his. He never wanted that. Even when Angeal confessed…

Genesis shook his head violently. He needed another drink. That was hardly possible, however, seeing as he was currently sprawled in an alleyway he didn't remember coming to. Growling, he reigned in his raging headache and stretched his screaming wing before attempting to find his feet. Odd. The SOLDIER metabolism pretty much assured him hangover-free drinking, but it seemed that whatever processes were finally responsible for the stabilization of his body weren't so forgiving.

There. Feet safely planted on ground. What was he going to do again? Oh, yes, standard checks. His clothes were intact, he wasn't feeling any pain in strange places and his wallet… had been relieved of its contents. Fantastic. That meant that he had to go on another killing spree. Not that he really minded at this point in time. Right. Kill monsters for gil. What was he forgetting?

After wrecking his mind for several painful minutes, Genesis gave up. If he couldn't remember, it wasn't important.

--

That thing hadn't woken up.

Weiss had found himself feeling much better in the morning, well enough, in fact, to be able to rush to the bathroom to attend to certain bodily functions. Once that was out of the way, he found time to note that Genesis appeared to have been out all night and that he hadn't left any clothes out for Weiss. Without clothes, there was little he could do other than to pace the room.

Which, of course, led him to acutely notice that black shape taking up Genesis's bed. Or, at least, he assumed that Genesis had intended to sleep on that bed at some point in time.

That thing looked like a person, breathed like a person, but otherwise behaved just like a corpse. Its unseeing eyes were half open, a glimmering emerald green, and it didn't react to sight, sound or 

even touch. Its skin felt like cool marble, smooth, and too firm for human skin. What the hell was it anyway? And what did Genesis want with it?

He pondered it because his mind refused to let him think about his own situation. Here he was, essentially a prisoner of that arrogant ex-SOLDIER who probably had some nefarious plans involving him and that black-clad thing. Quick peeks out of the window told him that he was in some quiet town somewhere, which might as well have been no information at all. He had no idea how he'd ended up in the possession of his 'brother', and of what happened to the rest of Deepground

…THEY'RE ALL DEAD…

Once more, something skittered at the edge of his memory and vanished into the black fog. Weiss punched the wall in annoyance, noting with some dissatisfaction that it was barely dented.

The last thing he could clearly remember was falling ill. It had been their little secret, him and Nero, as they worked to find a cure through the network. Then, one day, he closed his eyes

...and died…

and then his memory turned into cheesecloth. Speaking of which…

The bread and cheese the ex-SOLDIER brought back the night before was barely enough for one meal, and though Weiss had been unable to eat most of it then, he'd polished it off in the morning, leaving him with no sustenance, just a jug of clear water.

As a result, when Genesis finally returned some time past noon, he was greeted by a dangerously bored and ravenous Weiss.

--

Oh, so that was what he forgot.

Probably. It could have been something more important, but nothing so pressing. He couldn't keep forgetting to feed his tools, otherwise he'd never be able to complete his mission and Angeal would slowly drive him insane. He wouldn't even be able to escape by committing suicide, because all life went back into the lifestream and guess where Angeal was?

A quick phone call brought room service. At first, he had been adamant that no one came into the room, but now that Weiss was awake and they were about ready to move on, he didn't see the problem anymore. If only all human interactions could be dealt with by throwing food at the other party. The world would have been a simpler place.

They didn't speak; he saw no need to volunteer information. From what he could observe, it would seem that Weiss was still disoriented. It would be to his advantage if he could keep it that way. He was pretty certain by now what he needed the Deepground soldier for, and it would take a bit of travelling. Keeping Weiss interested in following him seemed like an easier strategy than, oh, say, tying him up and dragging him along. He didn't need to carry two pieces of dead weight.

"'My friend, your desire/Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess'," he murmured.

"Poetry?" commented Weiss, reminding him that he wasn't the only person in the room. Genesis roused himself from his thoughts glancing briefly at the dead weight taking up space on his bed before turning to look at Weiss.

"'Loveless'. It's a great story," he replied, taking in the look of bemusement on the white-haired man's face. How oddly familiar.

And sickening. The sooner he got this thing over with, the better. "Once you are fed, we have to move," he announced.

"Like this?" asked Weiss sarcastically, gesturing to the pink blanket he still wore around his waist.

It was so tempting to say 'yes'.

--

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