My Final Heaven
Tifa sat at the bar of 7th Heaven, or more precisely, what was left of it. Her bar and everything in it had been demolished during the firefight that had concluded with Cloud's death. She looked over at Cloud's buster, which now stood leaning against the bar. She had come back after a fruitless night of searching for Elena and had found it still lying in the mud. She had managed to pull it into the bar before noon had come around, and she now sat here, nursing her anger for Elena and a bottle of Jack Daniel's, which had amazingly survived. Now she just needed to figure out how to track down Elena. She thought for a while, then managed to think of Barret in Kalm. Maybe he could help. She stood up and grabbed Cloud's buster, then pulled it out to the motorcycle and strapped it on. Then, she turned on the engine and drove off through the slums.
Meanwhile, Elena sat in what used to be the Shin-Ra Headquarters' medical quarters, being tended by doctors. She had arrived about noon after narrowly avoiding Tifa. She thought about how angry she was at Tifa for taking her only form of retribution on Cloud for rejecting her. It was somewhat ironic though, that his own slut of a girlfriend had killed him. She laughed at that as the doctors tended to her bruises and lacerations, and they glanced at her as though she was an escaped mental patient. One of the doctors approached, carrying a notepad, which he had scribbled notes furiously on. He was thin, had black hair and a narrow, angular face. "Excuse me," he said, bobbing his head nervously, " but you're Elena, right? Wife to Tseng?" Elena glared at him contemptuously, then simply nodded. "Right," he continued, pushing his glasses back up the ridge of his pronounced nose, "I'm Dr. Martinez. I happened to pull up your records while you were being admitted. It says her that someone had called a hospital in Mideel, reporting that you had tried to kill yourself and that they would be bringing you in for evaluation." He paused for a moment, hoping for a reaction, then when he didn't get one, continued. "Also, they had confirmed a date that you would be brought in for evaluation, and you didn't show up." He paused, praying for a reaction. Elena simply continued to glare at him, as if she couldn't believe that he was speaking to her. "Then, shortly afterwards, you were found outside of Mideel, badly beaten and lacerated," He paused as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. "You stated that you were raped by a Cloud Strife, correct?" He glanced up for confirmation and Elena simply nodded. He grunted in acknowledgment. " There were signs of forced penetration and struggle." He stated, then pulled a blank piece of paper from the bottom of his notepad. "Would you mind telling me what happened?" Elena glared at him for a moment.
"Why?" She asked, reducing the animosity in her glare slightly. "Isn't that in the record already?" Dr. Martinez flipped through her record, then looked up. "No, It isn't," He stated, then looked back down at the record. "As a matter of fact, the record states that you went missing about two days after you had been admitted, without giving a really clear testimony." Elena silently berated herself for being too eager to go kill that slut Tifa. Now Cloud's malevolent hand was reaching out from the grave to put her away. She bowed her head slightly as the other doctors left the room. "Would you like to tell me what happened to make you leave without receiving proper assistance, and why you didn't give a clear testimony?" Dr. Martinez asked, lowering his head to look into Elena's eyes. He was slightly startled when he did so, because she was crying.
"It was awful," she sobbed, covering her face with her hands, "I was terrified. They said they'd kill me if I told anyone." "They?" Asked Dr. Martinez, "Who's they?" Elena was now hugging herself, her voice now a quivering whisper.
"The men who raped me!" She shouted, startling him. "The ones who cut me up when they were finished and left me for dead!" "There was more than one person?" He asked, scribbling on his notepad. "Can you describe any of the others for me?"
"No," Elena whispered, "I was unconscious when they did most of it. I woke up with Cloud climbing off of me, then he laughed to his buddies behind me about how they were right, and that I was a good screw." Elena was trembling now, and tears flowed down her face freely. All the while, Dr. Martinez was jotting down notes. Elena looked up and saw him, and knew she had him. He'd believe anything she said now. "Did you have any idea where you were?" He asked without even stopping.
"No," she answered him without a pause, "it was too dark." He grunted at that answer. "How did you get close enough to this man for him to abduct you?" Elena immediately knew what to say.
"I ran into him in Junon. We knew each other from experiences at the hands of my previous employers. I was arriving on a pad that was farther out from the tower than his, and when I walked past him and his friends, they must have jumped me from behind." Dr. Martinez gave her a sympathetic look, wrote down a note, then continued. "And why did you leave the hospital at Mideel before receiving proper treatment?" Elena sighed a deep mournful sigh, silently wishing he would shut the hell up.
"I was afraid that they would come and kill me," she said, then wiped her eyes. "I wanted to come here, where I could feel safe." He looked up at her, trying desperately to remind himself not to get involved. "Don't worry, he said, patting her on the shoulder, It'll be all right. You're safe here." Elena jumped forward and pulled him into a smothering embrace, startling him. He was even more startled when her hand slid down his back took a firm hold of his ass. My god, he thought as she held him, this is the closest I've been to a woman in six years. Suddenly he realized that she was a patient and began peeling her off of himself, though his body screamed for him to hold her closer. "Your husband is on the way," he told her, then added "don't worry," although it was himself he was telling not to worry. If it hadn't been for a few moments of clumsily looking over notes trying to ignore what had just happened, an attendant under the name of Simmons might have caught them in this unseemly act. Simmons was a plump woman with red hair, a round face, and when she spoke, a bit of a Scottish accent. She smiled as she walked in, causing Martinez to start from his notes. He quickly recovered and handed Simmons Elena's records, then explained that she would be staying in an inpatient room until her husband arrived. Simmons smiled through all of this, happy in the knowledge that she would soon be passing off this duty to one of the third year students, effectively ridding herself of another one of the burdensome tasks that her job demanded. Simmons nodded to Elena, who stood up and followed her out the door. Martinez slumped against the exam table. This was not good. He had managed to keep himself from getting involved with all types for six years, including the last half of his marriage. It had been as long since he had been with a woman, and now all of a sudden, the wife of the Turk's leader makes a move on him. Whether she was simply confused or what he didn't know, but he hoped it didn't happen again. Something like this could ruin his career, and even more so, his life.
Elena followed Simmons down the stairs to where the inpatients were housed. She noticed as she went, that the surroundings changed as they went deeper. The smells, sounds, and cold sterility of a normal hospital gave way to the feel of a cold and relentless prison. The air was filled with a kind of tense despair that emanated from its cold walls. That isn't to say that they didn't try to hide all this. The walls were furnished with tapestries and paintings depicting serene hilltops and people pleasantly dressed enjoying the portrayed scenery. The floors were still of cold tile, and somehow, they seemed to cry out with the rest of the surroundings, screeching the institutes true intentions: to house the disturbed. That bothered Elena. She didn't consider herself disturbed. Maybe a little troubled due to the beatings Tseng gave her, but that's as far as it went. She knew that all she needed was to find the right man and it would all be over. Simmons's voice jerked her away from her thoughts and she looked around. They were in a lobby of some sort, and Simmons was handing her papers to a clerk behind the desk. The clerk looked at her, then Elena. "Come here." She said. Elena was taken aback by the tone of command in her voice, and for some reason, complied dubiously. Elena studied the clerk as she walked toward her. Her hair color was indeterminable because it was dyed an off-color pink. Her eyes were a bit more serious than her hair. They were hazel and angular, along with the rest of her face. The clerk eyed Elena for a second, then stuck out her hand. "The name's Marie, I'll be takin' you to your room." Elena stared at her hand for a moment, then shook it hesitantly. "It's great that you've come here," Marie said, leading her down a hallway. "Many women don't even report it when they've been raped. You did the right thing." She fell silent for a moment as she rounded a corner, then continued. "Your room will be just down the hall from the cafeteria. Room 115." Elena watched the doors as she proceeded down the hall. Most of them were closed, but the few that were open were dark and foreboding, seeming to house a history of horrific experiences that whispered insanities that only the occupants could hear. She thought, for a moment, that she could hear them, calling for her, luring her with their lullabies of madness. She shook that line of thought out of her head, and nearly ran into Marie, who had stopped in front of a door with the number 115 clearly emblazoned on its white surface. "Well, shit," Marie said, stomping her foot irritably, "it looks like it's time to eat anyway." She glanced at her watch again. "Damn. It always happens. Every time I try to bring someone to their room, bam, it's time for something. Come on." She motioned for Elena to follow her down the hall.
Tifa pulled into Kalm, cold and sore from her ride. She had ridden non-stop for most of the ride. She brought the makou cycle to a stop in front of the town pub. She stood up and rubbed her backside and legs, which were are sore. The pub was cozy, and Tifa's gut twisted as she thought about her own bar, which now lie in ruins, as the rest of her life did. She made her way to the bar past the dark oak tables with their patrons in various states of raucous conversation and leaned heavily against it, sighing wearily and resting her forehead against the cool, polished surface. She started when a glass bumped against her fingers.
"The first one's on the house," said the barmaid after Tifa looked exhaustedly from the glass in front of her to the petite, African-American barmaid who stood behind the bar. Her almond eyes searched Tifa's sympathetically. "You look likes shit, girl." She sympathized, then began reaching for the glass. "Maybe I oughta-" She went silent when Tifa's gloved hand wrapped around the glass with no obvious intention of letting go.
"I think it's better if I had this." Tifa grumbled, then tilted the glass back, taking half of it in one shot. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smirked with little conviction. "Now what I need," she continued, "Is for me to tell me you know where I can find a man with a gun-arm." The barmaid seemed to be thinking about it, so she continued. "He's a large, black man by the name of Barret. I used to work with him in my own bar." That said, she turned her head and surveyed the scene again. "Very nice. My compliments to the decorator."
Tifa sat at the bar of 7th Heaven, or more precisely, what was left of it. Her bar and everything in it had been demolished during the firefight that had concluded with Cloud's death. She looked over at Cloud's buster, which now stood leaning against the bar. She had come back after a fruitless night of searching for Elena and had found it still lying in the mud. She had managed to pull it into the bar before noon had come around, and she now sat here, nursing her anger for Elena and a bottle of Jack Daniel's, which had amazingly survived. Now she just needed to figure out how to track down Elena. She thought for a while, then managed to think of Barret in Kalm. Maybe he could help. She stood up and grabbed Cloud's buster, then pulled it out to the motorcycle and strapped it on. Then, she turned on the engine and drove off through the slums.
Meanwhile, Elena sat in what used to be the Shin-Ra Headquarters' medical quarters, being tended by doctors. She had arrived about noon after narrowly avoiding Tifa. She thought about how angry she was at Tifa for taking her only form of retribution on Cloud for rejecting her. It was somewhat ironic though, that his own slut of a girlfriend had killed him. She laughed at that as the doctors tended to her bruises and lacerations, and they glanced at her as though she was an escaped mental patient. One of the doctors approached, carrying a notepad, which he had scribbled notes furiously on. He was thin, had black hair and a narrow, angular face. "Excuse me," he said, bobbing his head nervously, " but you're Elena, right? Wife to Tseng?" Elena glared at him contemptuously, then simply nodded. "Right," he continued, pushing his glasses back up the ridge of his pronounced nose, "I'm Dr. Martinez. I happened to pull up your records while you were being admitted. It says her that someone had called a hospital in Mideel, reporting that you had tried to kill yourself and that they would be bringing you in for evaluation." He paused for a moment, hoping for a reaction, then when he didn't get one, continued. "Also, they had confirmed a date that you would be brought in for evaluation, and you didn't show up." He paused, praying for a reaction. Elena simply continued to glare at him, as if she couldn't believe that he was speaking to her. "Then, shortly afterwards, you were found outside of Mideel, badly beaten and lacerated," He paused as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. "You stated that you were raped by a Cloud Strife, correct?" He glanced up for confirmation and Elena simply nodded. He grunted in acknowledgment. " There were signs of forced penetration and struggle." He stated, then pulled a blank piece of paper from the bottom of his notepad. "Would you mind telling me what happened?" Elena glared at him for a moment.
"Why?" She asked, reducing the animosity in her glare slightly. "Isn't that in the record already?" Dr. Martinez flipped through her record, then looked up. "No, It isn't," He stated, then looked back down at the record. "As a matter of fact, the record states that you went missing about two days after you had been admitted, without giving a really clear testimony." Elena silently berated herself for being too eager to go kill that slut Tifa. Now Cloud's malevolent hand was reaching out from the grave to put her away. She bowed her head slightly as the other doctors left the room. "Would you like to tell me what happened to make you leave without receiving proper assistance, and why you didn't give a clear testimony?" Dr. Martinez asked, lowering his head to look into Elena's eyes. He was slightly startled when he did so, because she was crying.
"It was awful," she sobbed, covering her face with her hands, "I was terrified. They said they'd kill me if I told anyone." "They?" Asked Dr. Martinez, "Who's they?" Elena was now hugging herself, her voice now a quivering whisper.
"The men who raped me!" She shouted, startling him. "The ones who cut me up when they were finished and left me for dead!" "There was more than one person?" He asked, scribbling on his notepad. "Can you describe any of the others for me?"
"No," Elena whispered, "I was unconscious when they did most of it. I woke up with Cloud climbing off of me, then he laughed to his buddies behind me about how they were right, and that I was a good screw." Elena was trembling now, and tears flowed down her face freely. All the while, Dr. Martinez was jotting down notes. Elena looked up and saw him, and knew she had him. He'd believe anything she said now. "Did you have any idea where you were?" He asked without even stopping.
"No," she answered him without a pause, "it was too dark." He grunted at that answer. "How did you get close enough to this man for him to abduct you?" Elena immediately knew what to say.
"I ran into him in Junon. We knew each other from experiences at the hands of my previous employers. I was arriving on a pad that was farther out from the tower than his, and when I walked past him and his friends, they must have jumped me from behind." Dr. Martinez gave her a sympathetic look, wrote down a note, then continued. "And why did you leave the hospital at Mideel before receiving proper treatment?" Elena sighed a deep mournful sigh, silently wishing he would shut the hell up.
"I was afraid that they would come and kill me," she said, then wiped her eyes. "I wanted to come here, where I could feel safe." He looked up at her, trying desperately to remind himself not to get involved. "Don't worry, he said, patting her on the shoulder, It'll be all right. You're safe here." Elena jumped forward and pulled him into a smothering embrace, startling him. He was even more startled when her hand slid down his back took a firm hold of his ass. My god, he thought as she held him, this is the closest I've been to a woman in six years. Suddenly he realized that she was a patient and began peeling her off of himself, though his body screamed for him to hold her closer. "Your husband is on the way," he told her, then added "don't worry," although it was himself he was telling not to worry. If it hadn't been for a few moments of clumsily looking over notes trying to ignore what had just happened, an attendant under the name of Simmons might have caught them in this unseemly act. Simmons was a plump woman with red hair, a round face, and when she spoke, a bit of a Scottish accent. She smiled as she walked in, causing Martinez to start from his notes. He quickly recovered and handed Simmons Elena's records, then explained that she would be staying in an inpatient room until her husband arrived. Simmons smiled through all of this, happy in the knowledge that she would soon be passing off this duty to one of the third year students, effectively ridding herself of another one of the burdensome tasks that her job demanded. Simmons nodded to Elena, who stood up and followed her out the door. Martinez slumped against the exam table. This was not good. He had managed to keep himself from getting involved with all types for six years, including the last half of his marriage. It had been as long since he had been with a woman, and now all of a sudden, the wife of the Turk's leader makes a move on him. Whether she was simply confused or what he didn't know, but he hoped it didn't happen again. Something like this could ruin his career, and even more so, his life.
Elena followed Simmons down the stairs to where the inpatients were housed. She noticed as she went, that the surroundings changed as they went deeper. The smells, sounds, and cold sterility of a normal hospital gave way to the feel of a cold and relentless prison. The air was filled with a kind of tense despair that emanated from its cold walls. That isn't to say that they didn't try to hide all this. The walls were furnished with tapestries and paintings depicting serene hilltops and people pleasantly dressed enjoying the portrayed scenery. The floors were still of cold tile, and somehow, they seemed to cry out with the rest of the surroundings, screeching the institutes true intentions: to house the disturbed. That bothered Elena. She didn't consider herself disturbed. Maybe a little troubled due to the beatings Tseng gave her, but that's as far as it went. She knew that all she needed was to find the right man and it would all be over. Simmons's voice jerked her away from her thoughts and she looked around. They were in a lobby of some sort, and Simmons was handing her papers to a clerk behind the desk. The clerk looked at her, then Elena. "Come here." She said. Elena was taken aback by the tone of command in her voice, and for some reason, complied dubiously. Elena studied the clerk as she walked toward her. Her hair color was indeterminable because it was dyed an off-color pink. Her eyes were a bit more serious than her hair. They were hazel and angular, along with the rest of her face. The clerk eyed Elena for a second, then stuck out her hand. "The name's Marie, I'll be takin' you to your room." Elena stared at her hand for a moment, then shook it hesitantly. "It's great that you've come here," Marie said, leading her down a hallway. "Many women don't even report it when they've been raped. You did the right thing." She fell silent for a moment as she rounded a corner, then continued. "Your room will be just down the hall from the cafeteria. Room 115." Elena watched the doors as she proceeded down the hall. Most of them were closed, but the few that were open were dark and foreboding, seeming to house a history of horrific experiences that whispered insanities that only the occupants could hear. She thought, for a moment, that she could hear them, calling for her, luring her with their lullabies of madness. She shook that line of thought out of her head, and nearly ran into Marie, who had stopped in front of a door with the number 115 clearly emblazoned on its white surface. "Well, shit," Marie said, stomping her foot irritably, "it looks like it's time to eat anyway." She glanced at her watch again. "Damn. It always happens. Every time I try to bring someone to their room, bam, it's time for something. Come on." She motioned for Elena to follow her down the hall.
Tifa pulled into Kalm, cold and sore from her ride. She had ridden non-stop for most of the ride. She brought the makou cycle to a stop in front of the town pub. She stood up and rubbed her backside and legs, which were are sore. The pub was cozy, and Tifa's gut twisted as she thought about her own bar, which now lie in ruins, as the rest of her life did. She made her way to the bar past the dark oak tables with their patrons in various states of raucous conversation and leaned heavily against it, sighing wearily and resting her forehead against the cool, polished surface. She started when a glass bumped against her fingers.
"The first one's on the house," said the barmaid after Tifa looked exhaustedly from the glass in front of her to the petite, African-American barmaid who stood behind the bar. Her almond eyes searched Tifa's sympathetically. "You look likes shit, girl." She sympathized, then began reaching for the glass. "Maybe I oughta-" She went silent when Tifa's gloved hand wrapped around the glass with no obvious intention of letting go.
"I think it's better if I had this." Tifa grumbled, then tilted the glass back, taking half of it in one shot. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smirked with little conviction. "Now what I need," she continued, "Is for me to tell me you know where I can find a man with a gun-arm." The barmaid seemed to be thinking about it, so she continued. "He's a large, black man by the name of Barret. I used to work with him in my own bar." That said, she turned her head and surveyed the scene again. "Very nice. My compliments to the decorator."