Fall and Break
By Kimetara
One-shot
Disclaimer: ...do I really need this? Eh. FFVII doesn't belong to me.
You stole her from me.
You stole her, then cried when I took her back.
"Pathetic, Valentine," I sneer, jabbing the needle into your arm a bit harsher than I planned. Oh well. You'll live.
Nothing to say? Of course not. True, the numbing liquid would be flowing through your veins right about now, paralyzing you, deadening your nerves to useless bits of tissue, but more than that – you know I'm right. I'm right, not that cowardly Gast. How does that feel? Always being praised as the superior scientist...the soft-hearted imbecile.
Hah...how the mighty have fallen. You tied down to my table, metal links secured around every limb and then some. "No longer so proud and arrogant, are you?"
"Even before you tried to snatch her away, you always grated on my nerves, Mr. Valentine," I add conversationally. Of course, you don't respond. You can't with the solution running in you, but even if you could, you wouldn't. So coolly confident of yourself, holding yourself off to the side like some god, looking down your nose at the rest of us.
"Turk."
I could nearly spit in disgust at that nasty title. One day the rest of the world will too. You'll see. I'll make it happen. I'll make your precious status one of the most hated things in the world.
I'd have Shinra wrapped around my fingers, if it weren't for Gast. He'll fall one day, he'll fall by my hand and break under my eye, and he'll regret ever making me look like a fool. If we had simply followed my plans from the beginning...
Maybe I'll tell you right now. I could inform you that neither you or I am the reason your dear Lucrecia has passed on. You can blame Gast for all that, which you would understand if you weren't such a thick-headed idiot.
You see Valentine, Ifalna was supposed to be the bearer of the Jenova Project. As a Cetra, she would have borne the treatments much better than that human woman. But Gast was too afraid of losing his precious Ancient... By the way, that's why you don't get attached to your specimens as anything other than specimens. Sentimentalism just gets in the way.
Then again, you should know that better than anyone; you are a Turk, after all. And I hate explaining things people already know. Besides, it's beyond amusing to watch you wallow in your guilt. Nevermind it's guilt over an act you didn't even commit.
"It's your mistake for becoming attached. You deal with your consequences," I decide. You can't feel a thing as I play with your arm, but a flicker of your eye lets me know you heard me. Perhaps next time I won't use the injection. I'm not an inhumane man, but this is becoming slightly boring. Hmph. "You're not even worthy of my work," I mutter, adjusting a miniscule screw of the limb.
Ah, yes, the arm. Another wonder of science. I had to remove your dominant limb for my own protection, you understand. The left arm...you certainly are a rarity, Mr. Valentine. Black hair with blue eyes, a left handed marksmen, a Turk who falls in love...you still followed your orders though. I appreciate your lapdog servitude; after all, I wouldn't have wanted to be the one bleeding on the floor. Hahaha...you truly are an idiot, running down the stairs and ranting your head off. What absolute stupidity.
So here's your reward. I'm going to give you a few new...uniquities. Replacements, in simpler language. You've become so passive ever since I began using the electro-shock therapy; it wouldn't matter. And I'm curious to see how well my newest contraption will operate.
Perfect. "You are a marvelous specimen. Seems a shame to let such fine DNA go to waste, especially when I've been wanting to try an idea for the past week... I dare say you'd make a very good muse. I've felt so inspired working on you," I say aloud, lacing my hands behind my back. You face pales at my smile. That's right. I'm the superior now, there'll be no more petty degrading glances from you. And one day, there won't be anymore from anybody.
My little experiment. You are wholly, completely mine, Valentine. Gast still won't allow me to work on the Ancient – honestly, all I want are a few embryonic cells – but you are the one creation that is all mine own. You'll be my personal hobby from now on. Sound good?
Yes... In time, you'll know the pain I feel. I have all the frivolous things the sheep of humanity search after in my grasp: power, money, looks – you shouldn't feel badly about Lucrecia's decision, woman have always sought after me. Be flattered she went to you for even a brief period of time.
But what I lack...my ambition...
I'll make you pay for meddling. The Project was nearly ruined because of your influence, and nobody takes what's mine – including that imbecile Gast. Always chasing fantasies... He may have stolen the spotlight for the Jenova Project, but I'll punish him soon enough. Shinra is becoming suspicious of how protective he is over the specimen, and all it needs is a little nudge. But I'll wait until foundations of Sephiroth have finished being laid out. I am a patient man. Perhaps you haven't realize that.
I can't blame him for protecting her, however. Ifalna... I would never harm her. A few experiments, yes, but harm? Never. It would benefit us all to learn more about the Ancients, to tap into their power. Although...for her, perhaps I wouldn't...
What foolishness. She's Gast's. Just like everything else. "Gast, Gast, Gast," I hiss. "Everything I want, he has. It won't last for long though...no, not long..." I yank your head up by the collar. I know the numbness is fading by now. "I will win back what's mine." I let go, and your head falls against the metal of the table with an audible 'clank'. You don't even flinch.
"...you'll learn what I feel. The taste of all you ever wanted, and the knowledge it is out of your reach," I mutter bitterly, stepping away. At least my specimens cannot be taken from me. My precious specimens...
"Hojo...what's the point...?" I turn and glance at you in surprise. This is the first time you've spoken in nearly two weeks, and the only question for three months now.
"The point? The point of what?" I ask carelessly. You lick your dried, chapped lips and swallow before answering.
"...everything. Why are you...doing this?" The metal claw clenches in emphasis, a small shift against the thin strip of metal holding it down.
"Why?" Laughter bubbles up inside me at such inane questions. "You want to know the point? What is the point of anything, Mr. Valentine?" My laughter halts, and I grab your shirt front once more. It's satisfying to do so; you were always inches taller than me. "The point is to scrape together as much pleasure as possible. Enough to outweigh the pain, if it ever will." It never does. "You never had to worry about that before, cold-hearted murderer that you are, did you now? Unless of course, you enjoyed killing. But I digress," I smile mockingly. Gast always said I had the tendency to ramble. "Besides, you'll learn in time." No matter how long it takes. You'll learn if I have to drill it into your head myself. Maybe I will.
"Why...?"
"Misery loves company," I reply offhandedly, letting go and moving towards the consoles. "It makes me feel better."
"...selfish bastard," I hear you whisper loathingly.
I feel a smirk coming over my face. So, you do have some spirit left. How nice. "You have no idea, my dear specimen. Then again, considering how self-centered you acted, blinding your eyes while Lucrecia was slowly dying right under your nose," I add, derisively thoughtful, "you don't seem in a position to make accusations."
I half-turn to view you more clearly, enjoying the way your expression tightens. "I know my sins, Hojo." There's cold steel in your tone, but the gun's not loaded anymore. That trick might have worked in your Turk days. No, it did work in your Turk days, sent my assistants scurrying from your path like lab rats. Do you know how many valuable experiments you interrupted with your irritating visits? Always hovering over Lucrecia...such a nuisance.
Nevertheless, now...now it merely emphasizes your powerlessness. You are at my whim. And I will break you, no matter how long it takes me Valentine. I can see it in you; despite your bravado you are desperately close, and I will force you to take that final step and tumble down. I'll play with the fraying shards of your sanity until the last thread gives way.
As I've already stated, it makes me feel better.
"I've been debating whether to proceed with an experiment or not," is my casual reply, "but this has clenched my decision. In five days," I hold up a hand, wiggling the fingers, "if all goes well, you will have a visitor. A permanent visitor. I hope you two get along."
"Oh, and don't worry...I assure you, this will be fun."