Date: 2008-07-18 20:20 Subject: FFVII Fic: Interrupt (3/?) PG13 Security: Public Mood: calm Tags: darkfic, fandom: ffvii, fic, sephiroth, title: interrupt, zack

Sorry for the month-long delay; the death of a friend's daughter really threw me and I haven't felt up to much of anything this past month. Starting to climb out of it now, though.

Here's more Interrupt.

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Title: Interrupt
Author: SkyFire (rabid_plotbunny)

Fandom: FFVII:CC
Characters: Sephiroth
Rating: PG13+
Summary: Shinra makes a decision and Sephiroth must face the consequences.

Warnings: WIP. AU, darkfic. And I mean Dark Fic. As in not happy, at all, period. Death-themes abound, though no one dies in it.

Previous chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Disclaimer: FFVII and its compilations belong to some huge company and not me. *sobs*


Zack stepped out of the elevator onto Sephiroth's floor, greeted as always by the sight of the boring, sensible pastel decor in 'soothing' tones chosen by some long-forgotten decorator.

He had to flatten himself against one wall briefly as a group of Turks passed him, surrounding a furious, ranting, purple-faced President Shinra and a trio of white-coated scientist-types. He couldn't help but watch, bemused, as they continued on down the hallway to the elevator he had just left.

Now what was that all about?

Try to deny it thought he might, he could not help the sinking feeling that their unusual presence on that particular floor might just have something to do with Sephiroth's atypical and unexplained absence from the office. Had the silver-haired General finally decided to take his advice and take a day off, only to get chewed out by Shinra? He hoped not; it had been hard enough to convince the man that no, he didn't have to work every single minute of his life, that he was allowed to have a life outside of the office.

But that wouldn't explain that strange call he'd gotten earlier. The number was Sephiroth's and he knew that the man wouldn't have called him for nothing, but he hadn't said a word, and hung up shortly after. Even stranger, Zack could almost swear that he'd heard cartoons in the background. Had Seph finally plugged in that monster TV, discovered cartoons and wanted to call him over only to get embarrassed and hang up when he answered?

Somehow, it didn't exactly ring true. Not entirely.

Even if it was true, that silence had him concerned. He'd never had the quiet man call him and not say anything before, even if it was only a brief 'Never mind'.

Maybe he was just being oversensitive because of the whole Angeal-and-Genesis situation, but he would feel better once he saw with his own eyes that Seph was fine, saw that familiar look of fond exasperation in those odd blue-green eyes.

He walked down the hallway, standard-issue boots clamping on the metal floor, barely seeing the numbers on the doors he passed by on his way to Seph's apartment.

There it was; a door no different than any of the others, with no indication that behind it lived one of the most powerful men on the planet.

He knocked, then tried the button on the keypad. He didn't know why; Seph never left his door unlo-

The door slid open with a soft hiss.

Okay, now he was really concerned. First the call, then the unlocked door - something was wrong; every instinct he had was screaming it at him.

Cautiously, only barely managing to keep from drawing his sword as that feeling of wrongness only seemed stronger the more time that passed, he edged into the apartment, unable to keep from setting his back firmly against a wall, eyes scanning what he could see of the apartment - mostly the entry hallway and a tiny sliver of living room - for any sign of the source of his unease.

"Hey, Seph!" he called from the entryway, the door hissing quietly shut behind him. "I just saw Shinra and a bunch of Turks down the hall. Man, did he look pissed. Sephiroth? I know it's probably nothing, but your call got me a little worried, so I came by."

'A little worried'? Boy, was that an understatement. He edged further into the apartment, his skin crawling, ears straining to hear anything out of place, stepping lightly in an effort to make as little noise as possible. Why he bothered after he'd already announced his presence to whatever awaited him, he didn't know, but gut feeling was not always logical.

"Seph? You here?" he called again. He was almost to the end of the hallway, could see almost all of the living room now. "The door was unlocked, so I--"

Then he saw Sephiroth.

"Shit! Seph?!" he cursed as he rushed over, eyes wide in concern.

Sephiroth was curled up over his knees on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around his middle, his face even paler than usual, typically-expressionless face twisted in an irrepressable show of one overriding feeling.

Pain.

What had happened? Had someone attacked the silver General, in his own home no less, and actually managed to wound him? Shit! How badly was he hurt?!

"Seph, what happened?" he asked, even as he tried to pry one of those arms away to see the wound, only then realizing that the familiar black battle coat was missing. A quick look around the living room showed it to be lying, carefully folded, across the back of the couch. The couch itself was knocked slightly askew, the coffee table lying on one side with a cracked leg. There was a plain white cloth on one arm of the couch; he couldn't remember seeing it there before.

He pulled at the immovable arm some more, trying to see, and relaxed slightly when he finally took in the fact that there was no blood. No blood, but there was a small bandage taped in place on the inside of one forearm, one he recognized easily as those the scientists pasted on after he got a shot.

Was Sephiroth having some sort of reaction to a new treatment? He should call-

Wait.

Hadn't there been three scientists with Shinra and the Turks? Had they already been to see him, then? But why would Shinra look so angry? And it still didn't explain the out-of-place furniture.

"Seph?" he called gently. He stopped his futile attempt to get a look at Seph's midsection and actually looked at him. That sinking feeling came back with a vengeance, bringing with it the unwelcome thought that maybe it would be better if he had gotten stabbed in the gut. "Seph, talk to me, man. What happened?"

"Zack?" came the reply, a thin, weak version of that familiar voice. Pain-narrowed eyes turned his way in a face beaded with chill sweat and definitely not his normal pale-yet-healthy shade.

"Yeah, it's me," he said. He dug a kerchief out of one pocket, used it to blot his friend's face, almost wanting to throw up when there was no protest, not even a reproachful look. Shit. There was something wrong and whatever it was, it was bad. "Seph, what's wrong? What can I do?"

A wry, almost bitter grin twisted pale lips. "There's nothing you can do," he managed to grit out, having to pause every now and then to breathe, the flashes of pain easier to see the longer Zack was near him. "It's already done."

"Already done? You mean they already gave you something for this and you're just waiting for it to kick in?" He knew as he said it that it wasn't true, but couldn't stop the vague hope from forming.

That bitter-wry look turned briefly his way. "No."

He swallowed drily, unable to deny the lump that had formed in his throat. Damn it! They had hurt Seph again! What was wrong with those people? Didn't they see that he was a man, not some lab rat? He grit his teeth, somehow managed to suppress the helpless anger enough to grind out, "So what are they enhancing this time?"

Was it like this for Sephiroth every time he got enhanced? He'd never been around the silver-haired man directly afterward. Maybe this was normal? Not that it made it any better, but at least that would mean that it would pass, that he would be good as new by morning.

"Not enhancement," Seph rasped. He hesitated, then looked away. "Termination."

Zack could only stare, eyes barely registering the sight of that sweaty, turned-away face behind the slowly-dampening silver veil that was his hair. Wait. What? "T-termination...? Tell me that's not as bad as it sounds. Seph? What did they do? What are they terminating?"

Another hesitation, pause as a wave of pain crashed over him, making him curl up just that much tighter. A ragged gasp of indrawn breath, then the answer that would give Zack nightmares for years.

"Me."


TBC...