Disclaimer: I don't own Alice in Wonderland or FFVII or related characters or indica…etc. This fanfic contains shounen-ai, boy love, yaoi, etc…don't like it, don't read it!

Alice stepped through the looking-glass and suddenly, she entered a world where nothing was right. Everything was upside-down and frontside-back and wrongside-right and everything she thought she knew was topsy-turvy and off-kilter and out-of-whack. She chased after the white-haired, green-eyed rabbit desperately, though she knew not why. Very suddenly, the yellow-haired heroine became a criminal charged with the most terrible of crimes. White rabbit, where have you gone? Where have I fallen? Why do I continue to chase after you when I know we cannot meet?

Chapter I : Dovetailing

He scanned the white place carefully, with tension in his gloved fingers and difficulty in his cloudy breath. They were rebuilding. In a place where such a tragedy had descended upon him and upon the residents, they were rebuilding. He almost wondered how they dared to lift up the new wooden planks and tear down the charcoal cinders that were the only graves left after that day. He wondered how people could still point at him from a distance and whisper "hero" after the pain that had driven him very nearly off the deep end so few years ago. Here…in this village, he stood and watched as they moved on and continued their lives.

"Don't look so down," his raven-haired companion nudged him. "See? Everyone's getting back together. Just one person left town for one day, and it saved his life. Now he's got friends and family from all over coming to rebuild the place. They're gonna make it liveable again. Like it used to be."

"Not like it used to be," the sullen ex-SOLDIER muttered.

His sidekick stiffened for a moment. "Well…maybe not." He shook his head as the "hero" drifted forward through the powder cloud of snow at the pace of a wounded stag; a beautiful, proud creature cut down to the stance of waiting prey. The more cheerful of the two jogged closer and dipped his head to look the other in the eyes. "Hey…why did you want to come here anyway? You pretty much knew it would be like this, right? So…what's up?"

The fair-haired hero shook his head. A cloud, thicker than the others coating the sky, passed in front of the dim sun and cast a shadow over them. "This was the last place."

"The last place?"

Hesitation… "Even you had your reservations when we first met," he explained. "But he…I felt…truly human then." Struggling with words… "But…Jenova…" He shook his head. "Was there nothing I could do…? Was there no way I could have saved him…?"

"Well, he was…kinda trying to kill you…" his sidekick reminded him. "And…everyone else on the planet, by the way."

"I know…."

"You had to kill him. He wasn't the same person."

"I know."

"Nothing here is going to change anything. There isn't anything here but…."

"I know—"

"Then why are we here? What are you looking for?"

"I don't know!" the hero hissed back at him, an intensity coming to his oceanic eyes as he spun around. "I don't know…what I'm looking for." His tone calmed a bit, but the intensity remained. "I'll know…when I find it."

"That's really vague…" the brunette sighed. A look of concern came to his boyish eyes. "What if you never find it?"

"Then I'll be searching until the day I die," the hero resolved, quickening his pace towards the ShinRa mansion.

The cheery sidekick sighed again. "Well," he said to himself, "You've done it again, Zack Fair. Sephie's not speaking to you, once again."

The weather only worsened. The sky filled quickly with billowing, dark-grey clouds. But it didn't rain. It ached with the weight of the water, but it refused to shed any tears. They would be cold, frozen tears of ice and snow in this season, anyway.

Zack sat down on a few of the crates brought in for the construction and leaned his head back on a taller one, looking up at the looming clouds—or cloud, rather…just one seemed to coat the entirety of the heavens. "Huh…" he muttered, "It's funny. I feel like I've stared up at clouds like this before." He blinked a few times, letting his breath out. "But it was different then. There was light. And…I kinda felt like I had wings."

Or maybe just one, he thought, remembering his party leader as well as some old friends. That sounds more likely.

A few more minutes passed and a train of thought started to run away with him in his mind. "I wonder," he said, talking to himself—an act that was less embarrassing to him than to other people—"What would have happened if Sephiroth had gone nuts instead of Cloud?" He laughed at himself. "No, really, though! I mean, what if there's an alternate universe somewhere out there where Sephiroth is the bad guy and Cloud is the hero? I mean…Sephiroth strikes me as more of the bad guy type, anyways…and he looked like he was gonna lose it when he started banging around those pods in the reactor…" Zack shrugged. "Some people might've lived. Like that…aw, whats-her-name…Tifa! She could have lived. Or maybe Barrett might've lived. Then again, maybe somebody else could've died. Hell, I could've died." Shudder. "Yikes…better not think about that. Anyway, Cloud's one thing, but Sephiroth? No way. I'd hate to be looking down at…"

…At the point of his blade, Vincent thought to himself, looking up at the blanket of cold light over the sky. Cloud was definitely not someone he would want to meet in combat. Maybe years ago, but not now. Meeting Cloud's sword without a cushion of sanity would be absolute suicide, especially now that he'd proved himself against Sephiroth—going, what—three times?

Speaking of suicide…. After listening to Cloud spill his guts out for the past few days, Vincent wasn't entirely sure he trusted the once-hero with his own life. Vincent was ready to put his life in Cloud's hands, but he didn't trust the kid to protect himself. He rose from his seat slowly. No…Cloud isn't gone enough to truly attempt…maybe just enough not to watch his HP, though. I suppose I should go keep an eye on him, whether he wants me around or not.

…

Cloud paused outside the door of the ShinRa mansion. He really hated this place.

Still…

The door creaked open more easily than it should have, for a place that wasn't really being used. Apparently, the town's new residents didn't like the look or the feel of the place and seemed to have left it relatively untouched. It was exactly as Cloud had left it those many years ago. Or maybe few years….

Yet…it seems new. Different somehow….

He stepped softly, slowly across the threshold, yet he felt heavy. Those footsteps echoed in his head, pulsating and driving into his skull. He noticed after a moment that they were continuing, that he was moving forward, unconsciously, into the entrance hall. The colors in the room became brighter, the shadows darker, the light more intense, the sounds more acute. His heart raced. A name lingered on the very tip of his quivering tongue, clutching the back of his throat. The only one who could make him feel such a rushing high just by granting his presence….

"Cloud…."

The blonde whirled around to face the shadow in the door, stopping dead as his eyes locked with the other's. The face contorted slightly. "Cloud…are you alright?" the dark growl of a voice asked softly. Cloud stared, blinking…and then relaxed. Vincent, of course. Why would he be here? Their faces were similar, but he was angelic and Vincent shrouded. Of course, Cloud would've known his voice in an instant.

"Yeah. Fine," he answered breathily, shortly.

"You're flushed. And sweating," Vincent pointed out.

Cloud put a hand to his forehead and found it hot and soaked, just as he'd said. "I'm fine," he repeated. "It's the cold. I haven't been anywhere this cold in a while. It looks like rain…well, snow I guess. It never rains here. It's too cold for that."

"The cold, huh?" Vincent repeated skeptically. "Cloud…as a friend and as a partyman who's traveled with you for years and fought alongside you, I want you to take this seriously and not as an insult." He came close enough to Cloud that he place a hand—the one that was still soft—on his shoulder. "You're not yourself. You have a problem. You're getting emotional and depressive and it isn't like you. I'm neither a good psychologist nor anywhere near a decent therapist, if you understand me. You need to get help. You've got to move on, and…"

"…and you're not doing it on your own," Zack whined, eyes filled with concern.

Sephiroth stopped and looked back at him with a searching look in his eyes. "You think I'm crazy."

His companion sighed. "I think you're suffering and you could go crazy if you keep this up. I really don't wanna be the one to deal with you when you go nuts. You are the most powerful man on the planet, y'know. It'd be like Meteor all over again. And then…I'd have to go through what you went through, Seph."

That seemed to strike a chord in the deep recesses of the stone heart of the ex-general. He turned away, looking around at the faded beauty of the mansion. "What if…I did go insane?" He shook his head. "I wonder…if he would have killed me as well…were he in my shoes…."

"Seph…" Zack tried to think of something to tell his dear friend that would cheer him up, but he couldn't think of anything.

Sephiroth turned to him, betraying an uncanny sadness lining his white lashes. "Perhaps I really am crazy." The corners of his mouth pulled upward somewhat. "My memory is cloudy, and yet…I could never forget." My heart is attached to someone who no longer lives…. "…Look at them, Zack. They don't need me anymore…."

"That isn't true," Vincent said. "You're their hero. They know our story. They know your story. They do need you."

"No, they don't. He's not coming back," Cloud said. "The man I looked up to died right here, under our feet in the library." What I was chasing all that time wasn't even real. "And that threat is gone now. Besides…I'm sure you and the others could handle him if another clone came along and resurrected him somehow. You're heroes just as much as I am." More than I am, actually…I could never think of myself that way. It's too weird….

"But you were the only one who could ever kill him, Cloud," Vincent insisted. "You, and only you. Even when you were just a nobody cadet, you defeated him."

"He's not coming back," Cloud repeated. "I'm so sick of it…" Life has…

…no meaning…. Sephiroth shook his head. "What am I doing here? I'm a soldier without a war to fight…I grew up fighting, I lived for battle…and now there's nothing left. Nothing can make me feel again. I was only ever alive when I was fighting him. And while I was fighting him...everything I held dear was in danger." And somewhere…I knew the truth: this wasn't the one I knew…it was a twisted mutation of what I once knew….

I keep searching for something meaningful…but everything is right in the world and nothing is right with me…would it be any different if the world was wrong?

Vincent reached out to Cloud again, but he pulled away. "Vincent…no offense…"

"Of course not…."

"Go away."

Vincent blinked, but seemed to understand. There was pain there that he couldn't mend, and that his presence couldn't ease. "Don't lose yourself," he whispered, not as a warning really, but as a whole-hearted request. Please....

Cloud gave no answer; just left him standing in the entryway without a word.

…

He became vaguely aware of where he was in about an hour's time. One of the rooms, to be sure, but he wasn't exactly sure which. Like most of the house, it was pretty, but not at all cozy. It was cold…too cold for rain.

Cloud felt something clutch his throat again and could feel a tingling hint of the battle high again. There was no way he could be feeling that if he wasn't near…but then, he couldn't be near.

Something was off.

Cloud found himself staring at a spot on the wall across the room. No…not the wall…it's a mirror. He crept toward it slowly. It looked somewhat out-of-place…no frame, no intricate designs, no old stains on the glass where the years had speckled it. Yet, there was nothing so much as a shine on its surface. If Cloud didn't know any better, he'd say it was just a hole in the wall leading to an exact mirror image of the room he stood in.

He stood directly in front of it and stared, but then was taken aback again—he was not staring at his reflection. There was no reflection.

I wonder if Vincent bit me in my sleep, he joked grimly to himself, fully aware that despite Mr. Valentine's long nap in a coffin, he was not a vampire of any sort. But then…where is my reflection…?

He reached out to touch the mirror, pressing his fingers to the glass. It was strangely warm…. He shut his eyes, and let his forehead drop onto the surface. I'm nuts, like Vincent said. There's your explanation. I'm effing schizo.

…Oh, well.

A low creak whined from the door behind him, and suddenly his high intensified. He drew in a sharp breath from behind his clenched teeth, and let it loose slowly, shakily. The glass had instantaneously become ice cold, and his breath frosted on its surface. He opened his mako-blue, luminescent eyes to the now aged and wood-framed antique. Cloud's own face stared back at him, blemished by the imperfections of the mirror in front of him.

A footstep echoed through the room, amplified by the mental trip Cloud fell prey to. A second came, more slowly this time, and a figure appeared in the mirror. Brilliant green eyes stared into the mirror and reflected into the blue eyes. An illusion through the mirror? No...was their truly someone there, behind him? Those blue eyes turned away from the mirror and to his rear, and the two met face-to-face.

A whipcrack of thunder streaked a bolt across the sky, and it began to rain.

dovetailing 1) n. a musical term in which two players exchange pieces of a long solo melody by overlapping the first and last note of each phrase, thus creating the illusion that the melody is seamless, unbroken, and continuous

: End Chapter I :