InsaneJournal

Fic: Walk a Mile (Prologue)
Title: Walk a Mile
Characters: Sephiroth, Aeris
Rating: PG
Prompt: 005: Outsides.
Word Count: 490
A/N: The bare beginnings of the idea at this point. Hopefully I'll get around to giving this a more thorough treatment, but right now I just want the claim wrapped up and Path marching to the finish line.


He felt a like a soda. Being one, not having one. The place gave him the most uncomfortable feeling inside, like millions of tiny bubbles rising to the surface of his skin, trying to break free. He moved slowly along the pathways, afraid to shake himself up too much.

It was her fault, he was sure. While he fizzed inside like a can of grape pop, she thrived and glowed and sparkled in the light. She made her way gracefully down the stairs while he fought against the air inside his head that he knew couldn't really be there, but was, tickling, almost burning as it bubbled around his skull, not leaving any room for his brain.

She had to die and he couldn't wait for the puppet.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o

One step off the top of those crystal clear stairs. Pink dot down below getting larger and brighter. Stone and water coming up to meet him. Air bubbling and fizzing inside him, burning like fire, till he can't feel his toes, or his fingers, or his nose.

She looks up and sees him and he explodes outwards. Fizzes and splashes like a shaken-up can. He doesn't even know if he makes a splash when he lands because there isn't enough of him left together to remember it.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o

He felt different when he finally came to. The immediate difference was the lack of crawly, bubbly feeling under his skin. Everything was calm again.

His head hurt though so he lay there on the stone, staring up at the crystal helix above him for a while. He felt odd, which wasn't unusual after one of his many physical episodes. He began to catalog his 'symptoms' though there was no longer anyone to report them to.

His legs were cold and it seemed his gloves had come off in the fall. The back of his head felt strange. He raised a hand to feel for injury and froze.

The hand was ungloved as he had suspected, manicured and bangled as he had not. There was no black leather sleeve and immediately he registered the complete lack of weight, the covering in the wrong places, and the dark hairs blowing into his eyes.

Something shifted to his right and then someone was kneeling over him, staring down at him with his own two eyes, wearing his face. Sephiroth glanced down at himself, getting a first hand look at a pink sweetheart neckline framing a decent serving of cleavage.

He tried to roar his rage but the shrill sound that left him made him pass out from shock again.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o

“What have you done to us? Why are you doing this?”

No answer. No apology, no explanation.

“Please, put me back. I don't like it in here!”

A murmur, wordless yet and fading fast.

“I can't hear what you're saying. It's too noisy in here.”

Necessary.

“What's necessary?”

Fix it...

“What?”

Fix him.