Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ All These Woes ❯ All These Woes ( Chapter 1 )

A/N I do not own FF7, (or the story Romeo and Juliet if it is copyrighted). This takes place after the game, a kind of takes bits and pieces from the Advent Children movie with the disease parts. I don't know if Shakespeare would have existed in the ff7 world, but for this purpose his writing did. And if anyone has a question in their mind about the context of some of the passage from the play, don't worry, I did leave some of the endings out for the purpose of the story. ^_^ Thank you.

All These Woes

A fog covered the mountainside as the bleak gray sky rose out of the horizon, the sun rasping for life on the earth but unable to find it, the blanket of clouds suffocating it. The grasses were dead, the chard dirt desolate, and rubble could be find almost in every city he went to. The only haven, it appeared, was the town of Coral, where most of the remaining inhabitance of the planet stayed. Even there, people were becoming sick, children were becoming orphaned, and life was fading with the beams of the sun.

Life after the incident with Meteor had almost ceased to be, and what was left began to suffer. Although Lifestream had protected them, it seemed to vanish back into the planet as quickly as it came, leaving the after effects of Holy. It was said that the summon would protect the earth and destroy what was hurting it, and at the time people believed that Meteor had been that threat. Though, people would soon come to realize that it was not only Meteor that was trying to kill the planet, but it had been the human race as well. They had done their wrong and were paying with their lives, but it didn't seem quite right. Those who were dying had been those who had hurt the planet the most, but there were also good people, those who wouldn't dream of hurting the planet. Was this their punishment for what a few had done? Did all half to suffer, including those still alive? And what about those left? What were they to do when the world came crashing down and all that was left was waiting for their inevitable fate?

And he would question, so quietly in his solemn state, why was he still there? It seemed as though those gone got off easy. How so much easier it would be than this place of coldness and pain, that those still left had committed the worst crimes of all. Though, it was not the cold of the wasteland that bothered him, and not even so much the pain of watch others loose those who love them. It was, ironically enough, the loneliness of being alone…

So many years ago he acted all macho, thinking he could go on without anyone and deal with whatever life threw at him. He thought he had gone through some hard time then, but he had never expected it to go so deep. So many times had he tried to brush it off his shoulders, all of it just another phase that his life was subjected to, but this was not one of those times. He remembered the panic when the first wave of the virus hit, the blood that was split over somewhere that would not be safe anyways. The memories of those he knew falling prey plagued him while he slept, haunted even still to the past shadows that continued to linger. One of his eyes would stay open, a gaze over his shoulder every few seconds without much thought otherwise. Yet, with all these things, the most agonizing of all was the fact that he had no one. Even if he had started out this way in the very beginning, now more than ever did he need someone to answer the question 'why?'

He rode on a rusty motorcycle across the dried planes and under the clouded skies until he came to the very place that might give him answers. There was nothing to lose of a journey, and, as crazy as it may sound, maybe there was someone he could ask.

It wasn't hard to navigate through the remains of what was once the largest city in the world, almost recalling by heart where everything was. Even if only a few of the now dilapidated mako reactors remained, some of the once colossal plates broken up and beginning to blend back into the planet, he knew where he needed to be. The plate next to the one that was first to go was still intact, giving way to an easy entrance. He passed the children's playground, hearing the screech of the swings and the haunting memories of laughs from long before. But what was once happy and filled with life was dead and smelled of a sickness that lingered. Though there wasn't much to begin with, even very little was better than the nothing here now, especially to those still living.

He would pass by a group of people huddled around a flaming barrel, so eager to leave this place yet too sick to do so. They would reminisce about the good old days when they could live above ground, with the sunshine and commodities one could afford if you lived there, but after the destruction Meteor had caused it didn't matter where you lived. There was no sunshine left, and 'commodities' didn't belong in anyone's vocabulary anymore.

Eventually he arrived in what was once called 'Sector 5', seeing that there was still a dirt path to behold. The one building standing without much falter was the place where he needed to be, walking up to it slowly and soaking in the memories of it. He ran his hand across the small boarded up windows, seeing the stained-glass window fixed above the rotten doors. It hadn't changed much in appearance, but looking at it now only gave an even greater hollow feeling to his heart. If it were the one person he missed the most, it was she.

He rammed the door in with his shoulder after a few tries trying to pry it open, stumbling in and dusting himself off. The wooden floors had become rotten away as well, with nothing left but an ashy gray dirt to show for it. The stained-glass window on the walls still remained gleaming, but some of the beams had fallen from above and broken through one or two. He sighed, strolling up the side of the church with a sinking feeling filling him as his cold exterior became what his soul was. As a wind of ill intensions softly caressed him, he could almost hear her voice, shutting his eyes and seeing her smiling eyes.

"Be strong…"

But in the brief moment of her smile did he remember the blood splat against the concrete, the silver end of a blade ripping through her abdomen and the light within those eyes beginning to flicker. His eyes shot open again, gritting his teeth in both anger and anguish. He stumbled his way to the center where flowers had once grown, falling to his knees in weakness to stand any longer. His vision blurred with the tightening of his throat and the stinging in his eyes, looking at his hands and only seeing the blood that stained them. Shaking his head, he put his golden blond hair to the dead floor, beginning to speak almost in desperation.

"Tell me, please, if anyone is hearing me…Tell me why, why are these things continuing to haunt me, why am I forced to suffer alone? I know I have done wrong in my life…I know…But I'm separated from everything I once knew, everything I should have appreciated then but…in my stupidity found it irrelevant…Tell me why is it that I am still alive, out of all others? Am I forced to be alone forever?" He lifted his head up and raising his voice to the sky, shouting at the top of his lungs, "If anyone is there, please, answer me!"

A rough wind flew from the open doors and the cracks in the windows, blowing a few papers off the shelves and knocking over a book or two, one tumbling out before him. He couldn't help but take a look at it, turning it over to read the title 'Famous Works of William Shakespeare'. It was just an old book of stories, with no real relevance to what he came there for. But, as the wind continued to blow, he decided it would not hurt to look through it for, after all, this was probably one of her books.

He flipped through it without much thought, turning to a random page with the title 'Romeo and Juliet…Act Two, Scene Two' written next to the page number. His eyes wandered until he came to a line half way down the page.

'O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art

As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,

As is a winged messenger of heaven

Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes

Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds

And sails upon the bosom of the air.'

The very words made him think of her sweet, calming voice, knowing now in these dark days how longing he was to hear it again. Gazing up the page, however, he was curious as to how this passage came up to remind him of her, finding something else that struck him deeply.

'But soft! What light though yonder window breaks?

It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Which is already sick and pale with grief…'

He grinned half-hearted at the thought, remembering oh so well the bright light that shined within that soul of hers. It remind him now of how her appearance was of the likeliness of the sun's radiance, and how much it could lighten the darkness within him. But ever since she was gone, that darkness had grown into the very bleak night, and indeed you could compare him with the moon, so cold, pale, and sick with the grief inside of him. So yes, if she had turned into an angel of mercy, which was a fair as the brilliant sun, would she not come and kill the envious moon that longed to see her?

Not even his questions were safe, though, from the past that haunted his thoughts. Somehow every time he tried to think of her radiance, no matter in what part of her life it was, it always came back to her end and the hateful gaze that came with it. Those piercing blue eyes with a bitter smirk gazed as she slid from off his blade, laughing as she fell into the arms of the one that had been too late to protect her. The man would ask if he really thought he had feelings now, saying how foolish it was of him to think that. Yet, he would shake his head, trying desperately to find another line to read and get his mind off from it, just so happening to be a line that fit quiet well.

'He jests at scars that never felt a wound.'

He smirked with a hint of pride, knowing exactly what it meant. How could that man make fun of him so, if he himself had not suffered the same way? Here she was dying in his arms and yet he would say that emotions were worthless, even though those emotions would cause you to be worth missing when you were gone. How blinded and downright stupid had that man been! And yet, he couldn't help but feel…sorry…No, wait, he couldn't, shouldn't feel sorry for such a cold-blooded murder! The man probably hadn't gone a day in his life without being so violent, so cutthroat!

The wind blew once more, turning the pages until it reached scene three. Out of his rants did his eyes befall a certain section, beginning to read with his anger slowly diminishing back into wonder.

'For naught so vile that on the earth did live

But to the earth some special good doth give;

Nor aught so good but, strained from that fair use,

Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.

Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,

And vice sometime's by action dignified.

Within the infant rind of this small flower

Poison hath residence, and medicine power;

For this, being smelt, with that part cheer each part;

Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.

Two such opposed kings encamp them still

In man as well as herbs-grace and rude will;

And where the worser is predominant,

Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.'

His eyes would become enlarged, mouthing the words as he read them with care. Knowing what they meant, he knew what truth they were attached too. He had forgotten the days before the destruction of Niebleheim, the days when the man they called Sephiroth was still sane and all seemed right with the world. He had forgotten the words spoken to him, the information he had collected over time and the reasoning behind it all, both Sephiroth's suffering and his. Sephiroth had been created as an experiment to the Jenova cells research, but in turn he had been filled with lies his whole life. He had to have been born of a real mother, not that creature inside of a jar, but because of the attachments they gave his mother's name as Jenova, saying she had died giving birth to him. When he went to the bottom of the Shina Mansion, he learned only half the truth, thinking that his mother was indeed Jenova. However, this Jenova had been a creature that lived over two thousand years ago and, because of the misinterpretations scientists had made, it was believed that the current human race had 'taken the Promise Land' away from his mother and, in turn, him.

His breath left him quickly then, shaking his head. If this were all so, than what Sephiroth had been fighting for all along was true to what he fully knew, not wrong. He was only protecting what he felt was rightfully his and with the information Sephiroth knew he would not have been wrong. Yet, these thoughts still consumed him and lead him to his end, but to ponder this now…

He questioned whether all in his life had been like this. Did he have the rights to say who was blinded and stupid when in fact the person had quite clear of a vision and was only ignorant? Was he the one who was jesting at scars he had never felt before? In truth, had he been the ignorant one all along, and to give such a disregard to the life he lived then and regret it so now? With a heavy breath he raised his head to the sky, whispering out the words that would almost rip his heart in half.

"You are the one showing me this, aren't you…? You're letting me read this…to tell me that this is why I'm here, isn't it? To be punished for all the wrongs I have committed. But…have I done so much sin…?"

He stood, his heart feeling like it sank to his feet. Although he had known all along that his sin was his reason for being here, why did it have to be retold to him? It was a foolish idea anyway, to think that she was speaking to him through passages in a book! It was just a useless damn book, nothing more! He picked it up in his rage and tried to rip the binding in two and, when he found he was unable to, threw it across the room, beginning to walk away.

A heavy wind flew again, coming to a brand new section label 'Act Thee, Scene Two'. He stopped for a moment, feeling a tug at his sleeve to turn his head around and go back. It was stupid, but he walked back anyways, kneeling as he let his eyes wander again.

'Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with the night

And pay no worship to the garnish sun.'

His eyes narrowed in thought, running his fingertips across the words. Her breath could almost be felt upon him, hearing the whispers of her voice as if she were saying it right then. The slow heart beating in his chest became warm again as if she were wrapping her arms around it, dusting off the layers of darkness that plagued his soul to make way to the sunshine that was there, and had been there all along. If only he had seen it earlier, to realize that he was not alone though it all. Although he could no longer see them, he began to feel them within his mending heart. There was someone still there, listening to every word he rasped, and there would always be someone there until the day they reunited once again.

"My purpose isn't to be punished…It's to find redemption, so I can see you again…"

That is what she was meaning all along, that the reason he was alive was to correct the mistakes he had made. If he were to die then, what were his chances of meeting such a beautiful soul again? No, she wanted him to become greater than he was, to be greater of a person than she was, so that when the time came and they were to be reunited he could be proud that he had died without regret.

In a few moments of silence, a smile slowly began to peel across his lips. The once rugged ex-SOLDIER was becoming soft, but it made no difference now. He wanted to be with her and all those he missed, and he would do what he was asked until the very last breath left his body. Though, one question lingered in his mind, and that was if he could be forgiven or not. But, there was no way that book was going to tell him or not, and with an angel in heaven telling him he had a chance, what else could he say?

"Yeah…I want to be forgiven…"

Yet the day in joining them seemed so far, and although he knew they would be listening it was had for him not to be able to see her, to smell her lovely flowers, and to gaze into the brilliant green eyes more gracious than the sun itself. It would still be hard to undo all the mistakes in his life without even a single glace at her comforting soul, hunching over as he clasped his hands together.

With a single tear falling softly down the side of his face, he spoke the words he had been meaning to say for a long, long time.

"I miss you, Aeris…"

A quiet zephyr blew by him, as if wiping that tear away for him to read one last passage. He smiled now with a laugh in almost complete joy after reading it, nodding his head in agreement. With a pause to let it sink in, he stood and put the book back up upon the shelf from where it had fallen. He ran his finger across the side wall again, shutting his eyes and no longer seeing the haunting visions of her death, but the beauteous images of what time they spent together lingering with her bright eyes shining through his soul and back. As he reached the door, cracked and broken, he looked back one last time at the still church, his eyes widening with the sight he beheld. The stained glass began to glow, the sun's rays seeping through the cloud cover high above the broken plate and beaming into the church, illuminating the sight he so fondly remembered. He remained smiling even as he stepped back out into the cold, dark world, which, as he thought about it, didn't seem so cold or dark after all. Yet he never let those words slip past him, even when the world became dimmer, and he would never loose sight of those eyes in them…

'O, thinkst thou we shall ever meet again?

I doubt it not; all these woes shall serve

For sweet discourses in our time to come.'