This story is going to be about Tifa, Rufus, Tseng, Elena, Reeve and Denzel and I haven't singled out a particular main character, yet. 'Friendship' might change into 'romance' and if, the pairing will be TsengxElena and RufusxTifa.
First at all, be warned: I will give my best, but I'm not a native speaker, so please excuse any mistakes I make. I would be very glad, though, if you could point them out to me so I can correct them.
Secondly: I neither own Final Fantasy (that's Square Enix), nor do I own any of the characters who chose to make an appearance in this text (Square Enix, too). This story isn't written to earn money or anything the like, it's just for the fun of it, so, don't sue me (wouldn't be worth it, either).
Edit: Thanks for your tips concerning mistakes. I hope I've corrected some now. If you find others, please tell me^^.
Chapter 1: Rufus: In which Tseng can't sleep
The air is clear, clear and fierce and the sun is shimmering on the white snow.
The snow is frozen. It cracks, slowly, splinters under the bare sole when he treads on it. It cuts into the feet as he drags them on.
Soon, sure, soon he won't be able to feel the pain anymore, when his feet have died with the numbing cold.
The hem of his white trousers is covered in blood his feet won't yet leave behind in the snow.
He does not know how he got here, but he has to cross the plane. Why, he isn't sure, only, the dark fright is lurking deep inside him. It is important, more important than everything else. He has to cross the plane before it is too late, he has to proof it. What, he doesn't know. All he knows for certain is that he has no time left. It is not just snow he is walking on. The snow is covering ice and below the ice, there is a lake. A vast, deep and dark lake. And the sun is shining brightly. It is melting the ice away.
He hears it creaking now. Raises his head. There, in front of him, far away, is the shore. He can reach it. He only needs to drag himself a little further. There is someone waiting for him. But when he looks up, the creaking intensives, comes closer from behind. He turns to look back, sees only his footsteps. Only, the last few have been soiled with blood. Blood that now creeps up his leg. Blood that crawls around the footsteps behind him, fills the small cracks in the ice like speckles in an iris. The warm blood is melting away the ice. It is breaking. The cracks are broadening, the blood is spreading, coming towards him. He turns, his heart his hammering. He has to run, has to get to the shore. But as he sets to run, he realizes to his horror that the blood around his feet has frozen and is nailing him to the ground.
Around him, the ice is splintering, the cracks turn into rifts, racing towards him, the ground is tumbling, breaking under his feet and in the same moment, he is falling. Water, icy water, is all around him and he can't move his legs, they are bound to the ice, he fights for air, to resurface, but can't cling to the ice, the ice floes shake him off every time until his head sinks under water and he can't breath anymore. He just sees the surface disappearing above his head, is sinking, can't breath, the darkness starts to engulf him and all fighting is useless, he is going to die and he couldn't proof anything.
Rufus shot up, the gasp for air hurting in his throat. His pyjama was sticking to his body and he was clinging to the blanket, his breaths coming in heavy puffs. It took him several moments to normalize his breathing and to become aware of where he was. Under the blanket, his leg was hurting badly. It was almost dark around him, apart from the faint light that was falling through the milky windows. He wasn't on any ice fields, though cold it was. Nor was he in his bed in Midgar. This was just his futon in the empty room. He slowly unclenched his fingers. His leg – it was only his left leg – was still hurting, the pain thundering up the calf and through the knee. He drew it closer to his chest, tried to massage the pain away.
He had never in his life been on any ice fields.
The pain slowly eased away, but as always with this dream, he couldn't bring himself to go to sleep again. Slowly, he turned from the bed and pushed himself up. The floor was warm under his bare feet as he limped towards the door.
Where was Tseng? Tseng said he talked in his sleep and he knew he must have shouted. So, where was his Turk?
The door, covered in thin paper, slid aside and opened to the living room. The door opposite to his was open, too, and his eyes fell onto an untidy but empty bed. Clenching to the frame, he looked around and saw Tseng's shadow, barely visible against the moonlight.
The Turk was sitting on a couch, elbows on his tights and a mug between his hands, clenching to it. His eyes were vacantly staring into the mug. The part Rufus could see of the face was pulled into a grimace.
It had been around this time of the year, close to full moon, too.
Rufus set into motion, forced his unwilling leg onwards. It was only a few metres, but he hadn't yet reached the couch when a new wave of pain flooded through his leg and it nearly gave way under him. Only in the last moment did he catch the armrest of the couch and kept himself from falling, clenching his teeth as hot pain flared through his side. He tried force himself up again, but his fall against the couch had been enough to startle Tseng up.
"Rufus? – Wait!" Helpful as ever, Tseng was on his feet in the same moment, reaching out for him.
"Leave it." Gingerly, he sat down on the nearest chair, next to the couch. The leg was still throbbing.
"Have I woken you, Shachou?" Tseng's face was half in shadows, completely expressionless as always. But it wasn't difficult to see the film of sweat on the Turk's face, the quickly hidden fear.
"No, you haven't."
Tseng looked at him, expressionlessly concerned. "Was it your nightmare again?" There was also a shadow of guilt in the Turk's eyes.
"No, I just couldn't sleep." Rufus bent down although it sent another wave of pain through his leg and picked up the mug. "And why are you here? Are you trying to read tea leaves?"
"I couldn't sleep, either."
"Hn." The Turk was lying.
Rufus placed the mug on the table, turned the handle to Tseng who frowned. First, Rufus thought it was because he had discovered him lying. Then, he realized that he wasn't wearing his gloves. He withdrew his hand quickly, too quickly.
"What is it with your hand, Rufus?"
"Nothing."
"Let me see it. Please."
Rufus hesitated for a moment. He would have liked to keep it secret just a little longer. But now, he pointed out his hand again. Made it Tseng's problem, too.
Tseng's touch was cold on his skin and Rufus almost withdrew the hand again. He was starting to feel cold in his pyjama and the way Tseng was scrutinizing his hand wasn't making him feel any better.
"What is this? Is it…?"
"Geostigma? I think so." He withdrew his hand, kept any emotion from his voice.
Tseng was studying him. This time, there was a real frown on his face, knitting even slightly what seemed to be a tilak on his forehead.
"How long do you have it already?"
"A month, six weeks, maybe." Rufus didn't look at him. Tseng would take it badly that he hadn't told him. But the Turk would have worried. And what need was there to worry, when the death sentence had already been spoken?
Tseng had fallen silent, deadly silent, one could say, and Rufus knew that his mind was making calculations now, drawing conclusions. The first conclusion would be that he didn't have long to live anymore. The second, that this, of course, was the explanation to why he had been working so fiercely over the last few weeks. He used to hate how Tseng could look through all his layers. But that had been before he had gotten to known Tseng.
"Have you already seen doctors about it, Rufus?"
"Wouldn't you know if I had?" He pronounced it as offhanded as possible, but Tseng still kept fixing him with his eyes, eyebrows knitted in a deep frown.
"I've read all the currently available literature. There are only a few cases like mine, they aren't healing it, but no one died so far, so they can't tell how long it takes."
"I've never seen white Geostigma, though."
Rufus shrugged. "It's in the same spots, what difference does the colour make?" He smirked. "At least, if it's white, it doesn't show so very much." He supposed that Tseng was looking straight through that mask, too.
Perhaps the day was dawning behind the panels already. Rufus forced himself up again, uncaring for his hurting leg. "I'm expecting you in one hour in my office with that report on the new solar panels."
Tseng didn't reply and Rufus staggered back to his room. When he reached the door, Tseng was still following him with his eyes.
"I'm currently financing research on this topic." He hesitated a moment and thought about whether he should really utter these words, but smirked: "It's quite a waste of money, though. Geostigma's been caused by a certain sequence in the DNA… physicians can't even deal with cancer and that's only a mistake in a few cells' DNA. How do they want to cure a mistake that is within every single cell of a human body?"
"We will find a solution, Rufus."
"Will you?" He gave Tseng a mocking smile and slipped into his bedroom. His leg was still throbbing, but after the shower, the pain ceased. It hadn't been there for months, but it didn't surprise him that it had come back. He rubbed the moisture away from the mirror and leaned forward to consider his eye, the one that had been infected with geostigma. Now, he had worried Tseng, too. But collapsing dead on him wasn't much of a solution, either.
Damn it.
He leaned closer to the mirror, closer to his eye. There, on the iris around the pupil, was a ring of red. Had is spread since yesterday? He couldn't be sure. Like the blotches on the skin, his eye was loosing its colour. The outer rim was still of a faint blue, but the closer to the pupil, the more the blue faded into a light purple before it turned into red. What would happen if all the melanin had faded away? Would he die? Perhaps. He studied the criss-cross of scars on his jar line which spread over the shoulder, tainted by the blotch on his chest.
He was sick of being afraid to die.
It was only just light when Rufus sat down in his office, no one was awake not to mention in an office, yet. Just as expected, the weather was changing outside and rain had started falling steadily. At least, he thought, turning to some heavy files, it was no snow.
About half an hour later, a knock on the door startled him from his work and Tseng entered. He was in his coat and wore a stern expression. "Permission to take the helicopter, Shachou?"
"Permission granted. – Wait." Rufus looked up from his routine. "What do you need the helicopter for? I didn't order anyone to go anywhere."
"We are going to Midgar, Sir."
"Why on Gaia would you go to Midgar?", he was looking straight at Tseng now, didn't like this peculiar interruption. It wasn't like Tseng to plan without consulting him and the Turk surely looked a little guilty. "Where are the reports for the solar panels, anyway? I'll need them. And it's 'Edge' now, not 'Midgar'."
"The reports are here, Sir", Tseng replied calmly and put a file from under his arm onto the table. "Rude and I are going to the old church. The one where Aeris Gainsborough used to live."
"Are you still mooning over that girl? She's dead, Tseng, deal with it." He knew what Tseng was aiming at and it angered him.
A cloud passed Tseng's immovable features. "There is said to be a spring, Sir."
Rufus put his pen aside, frowned. "I know there is a spring. But you are not going to take that water. I will not have them pity me, accept anything from them or even let them know! I won't crawl to them."
Tseng sighed. "Is your pride really more worth than your life?"
"If the rain didn't cure me entirely, how should the water? There's no need to loose my face – Besides, they could have made it a spa by now. It would be very difficult to get water without applying force, then."
"They haven't made it a spa."
Rufus gave a sigh. "Don't they have any sense for business?" He unconsciously brushed the hair aside. Tseng would go on bugging him with this forever. "Very well. I'll come with you. I have to talk to Reeve, anyway, and it would be best to meet him face to face."
"I advise you not to go, Shachou. There are still a lot of people who would like to kill you and…"
"Then take Reno and Elena, too. Avalanche has never shown any inclination to kill me, why would they now?"
Tseng gave another sigh. "It's not just Avalanche."
"You said yourself they haven't made it a spa. As far as I remember, this place lies in the middle of Midgar. Nobody's climbing rubble if he doesn't have to. I'm coming with you."
"Well, then, okay." Tseng turned in the doorway, a bit too satisfied in Rufus' opinion.
Thank you very much for bearing with me so far and I hope you enjoyed.
The next chapter will be about Tseng and Shin-Ra's visit to Aeris' church where they will encounter Denzel.
Please review!