Disclaimer: Squeenix owns it all; for fun, I'm just saying "what if...?"
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairings: Cloud/Zack; Cloud/OC
Warnings: Anal, AU, Language, M/M, Minor, Non-con, Oral, SH, Violence unBeta–ed

AN the third: In case you hadn't guessed, this is my first posted fanfic. Concrit very definitely appreciated. Flames, not so much.

Cloud sat in the classes with hundreds of other teenagers, listening to instructors telling them what to expect in this last week of initiation: When the announcements would be made, where to go if you were accepted into which program, what to do if you didn't get the one you wanted – which happened a lot. Kids wanting to be scientists were trained as accountants instead; after all, ShinRa ran the recruitment program to benefit ShinRa.

Cloud, when he wasn't thinking about his personal future, was amazed at the scope of ShinRa's recruitment program. Out of the over 300 kids who had survived initiation, less than twenty weren't going on to some sort of specialized training – and this was just one class. There would be another one starting in two weeks. What did ShinRa do with them all?

Results were announced in the middle of the week. Graduation ceremonies and packing took up the rest of the days and then they all had a week off. Most were going with friends to get very drunk in Midgar, Kalm or, for a lucky few, Costa del Sol. Others were going home to spend time with families they hadn't seen since starting the program.

There were a few, like Cloud, who were too poor and whose families were too distant for them to leave the ShinRa compound. For them, the company would keep the cafeteria open – although with shorter hours and a smaller menu. They would have to move into a more compact dorm as the other rooms were cleaned and refurbished before the next batch of recruits came.

Cloud worried about that. In a smaller group, he would be more exposed. There was a greater chance that one of the others would realize that he wasn't sixteen and report him. He needn't have. When the day came for him to move into the temporary quarters, a man showed up. He wasn't especially tall, he wasn't especially strong, he wasn't especially anything, but Cloud knew that he was a very dangerous man.

"Cadet Cloud Strife?" his voice was monotone as bland as the dark blue shirt and plain white shirt combination he was wearing. Cloud wondered how many weapons the man was hiding.

"Yes, sir."

"I am Tseng. Commander Lind asked me to fetch you. He's arranged for you to have someplace to stay during break."

Someplace more private, Cloud suddenly understood. WhereI can illegally lose my virginity to a stranger in preparation for my rape. He scrubbed his hands over his face. "Yes, sir," he repeated.

"You can call me Tseng."

"Um, no. I don't think I can, sir. I'll just grab my toothbrush and stuff."

The man nodded and stood in the doorway completely at ease, completely alert and completely intimidating. Cloud fumbled putting his last few personal items into his duffel.

He followed Tseng through the hallways to the main entrance to the training complex. There was a car waiting for him, with another man dressed the same as his escort. Cloud realized it was a uniform, and he was pretty sure he knew group to which it belonged. Tseng opened the rear door of the expensive looking care parked at the curb. A blond haired man sat at the wheel. It looked like he was examining his fingernails.

"You're Turks, aren't you?" Cloud asked once Tseng had got in and the vehicle was moving.

"Yes," the dark haired man answered shortly. "General Sephiroth has requested our assistance for this mission. One of our trainees will be your protector. You'll meet him at the hotel. At that time, we'll give you a full briefing, including names and photos of the attackers.

Cloud didn't want to think about it so he asked the easy question, "The hotel?"

"You'll be staying in the Hildorf in Sector 3."

The Hildorf? Cloud breathed a silent 'oh' in, what; awe, terror, excitement? He couldn't identify what he was feeling. The Hildorf was one of the most exclusive hotels in Midgar, famous throughout the world for being luxurious, expensive, and very private. It was the kind of place normal people read about in glossy magazines but never, ever, expected to stay at.

Reports said they used sheets of the finest Wutaian silk. Would that make it feel better?

"There will be some clothes in the room already. Clothing that fits. I suggest you wear them." Cloud plucked self-consciously at his pants. It was the first time he'd worn his civilian clothes since he'd joined. He knew he'd grown but he hadn't realized how much of a difference it would make. He'd had to wear his ShinRa issue combat boots because there was no way he could walk in his old shoes without crippling himself.

"Yes, sir."

"We'll also give you an account card with 5000 gil on it. That should cover incidentals." Tseng had obviously conveyed all his pertinent information for he closed his mouth and turned his head to face forward. Cloud couldn't think of anything that didn't sound extremely lame, so he said nothing, just stared out the window. The rest of the trip was done in silence. Well, except for the blond man who hummed along with the radio.

There were no historic buildings above the plate, but some of the more pretentious sites had been built to appear as if they'd stood for centuries. As if age somehow equalled trustworthiness or justified higher prices. The Hildorf didn't bother. Its front was an unassuming glass and marble set up that looked almost exactly like the buildings next to it. The only difference was the uniformed attendants waiting to park your car, carry your luggage, or open the door.

The blond man stayed with the car. Tseng opened the doors. Cloud carried his own luggage. His first chance to be pampered by the staff and it was completely wasted. They didn't even stop at the burl wood desk with the intimate lighting and hushed voices. Tseng ushered him over to the elevators.

The staff were too well trained to react but Cloud caught the disapproving glances some of the other guests gave him. He didn't look like he belonged and he knew he didn't. When the elevator doors opened, he was in the box before Tseng could blink.

"Hmmm," the Turk commented, "your file did say you were fast." If Cloud hadn't been feeling so silly, he would have noticed a hint of humour in Tseng's voice. As it was, he looked at the richly patterned carpet and just barely managed not to scuff his feet.

"The secret to surviving in a place like this is to pretend that you are someone who has a right to be here. You are not Cloud Strife, ShinRa recruit, but Cloud Strife, world famous actor and model."

Cloud stared at Tseng, shock making already large eyes even larger. "I-I couldn't do that," he protested softly. "I don't like to be looked at." Tseng looked at Cloud Strife again and thought that the boy had better get used to it.

A soft chime announced their arrival on the eighth floor. The hallway was wide, with soft lighting and little nook with chairs and flowers. Paintings hung on the walls, and Cloud could tell they were expensive originals and not assembly line copies. The carpet was so thick that even his thick-soled boots made no sound.

The room, when they entered it, was more of the same; muted tones with the occasional rich accent, thick carpets, original artwork, flowers and candies on side tables. There was a slim male standing near one of the windows, flipping through a magazine. He wore a suit somewhat like Tseng's but lighter in colour and badly shaped.

"Hansin," Tseng called and the young man turned around. "Cloud, this is Yves Hansin who will be your contact during the mission." Yves stepped forward, hand outstretched. Cloud met him halfway and they exchanged polite murmurs. "Yves is training to be a Turk and he's scored quite well so far. Having him as your contact will be less conspicuous than trying to insert even a Junior Turk back into the training program."

That made sense, although when Cloud had been picturing his 'protector' he'd pictured someone a bit more solid, someone like Tseng or Sephiroth. Each of them projected a 'don't fuck with me' message without any effort. Hansin, as competent as he may be, did not. Maybe, Cloud thought, he'd toned it down in the presence of his soon–to–be superior. Maybe it was a demonstration of what Instructor Fell called 'pecking order.' For his own sake, Cloud hoped so.

Tseng was speaking to the would-be Turk, going over the mission briefing and reviewing procedures. Cloud took the time to examine his 'protector' more closely.

Hansin was taller than Cloud, who wasn't? and nearly as slim. His features were regular, light brown hair, brown eyes, and rosy skin tones. His hands had been soft, which was surprising for someone in military training, with short fingers and square palms. He wasn't unattractive, yet neither was he attractive. He'd be good at tailing people. He was so average no one would see him.

Yves had brought a folder that he handed over to Tseng. "You both need to examine these," he said and encouraged them to sit on the couch. On the coffee table, he laid out photos, one by one of the suspected rapists. "William Descartes, class A4, age 18." The boy had light blond hair and pale blue eyes and a sneering, smug expression. He knew he was untouchable. "He's the suspected leader." He placed the next down. "Janzen Carrew, also A4, age 18, a classmate of Descartes. They've been getting into trouble together since playschool." Carrew was a darker toned version of Descartes with heavier features. The sneer was the same.

"Only these two are involved with every attack. They are the driving force behind them. The other four identified suspects, there may be others, are only involved incidentally, it seems; taking part because they are in Descartes and Carrew's company, rather than any overwhelming inclination."

He let them look at the other photos, naming the boys and giving their basic information. All of the boys were either in, or being funnelled into, the regular army, which was a bit of a condemnation all on its own, according to Tseng. People assigned to the other military branches, even the Civil Guard, had to have a gift of some kind. SOLDIERS were the most physically coordinated and mentally disciplined. They took on the most dangerous tasks. Guards were problem solvers; peacemakers and investigators. They worked in towns maintaining order and fighting crime. Tseng wouldn't say what special abilities Turks needed or what their duties included. Total bloody-mindedness and a lack of conscience occurred to Cloud.

Regular army was for everyone else. For the ones who didn't stand out enough, who were just talented enough, but not special in any way, and that, Tseng hypothesized, could be why the boys had taken to raping the vulnerable trainees.

When they looked at all the victims, ten in the last three years, there were similarities. Eight of the ten were C class, the other two were low B's. They were all physically small, easily overpowered. Most had been singled out in training –two for SOLDIER, two for Civil Guard, two for officer training and one by the Turks. The last three, headed for standard support training, had been extremely attractive, beyond the average in fact, so all ten had stood out from the crowd, which supported Tseng's theory of revenge rape.

In order to entice them to Cloud, he would be seen to be talking with the Civil Guard and the Officer Training Coordinators, and it would be arranged that Descartes and Carrew would overhear speculative and complimentary gossip about Cloud. Hopefully, it would be enough to goad them into action in a couple months, as Cloud, Tseng speculated out loud, would probably prefer to have this over and done with.

Tseng was right. Cloud would prefer that this be finished quickly. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he'd agreed to it, and his stomach would clench and he'd think of sneaking away. At times like those he'd pull out his one picture of his ma or he'd reread the letters he'd received: not many, as his mother still had trouble writing and got the butcher's wife to do it for her. They were stilted and impersonal because of it but he would picture her, resolutely standing in front of Mrs. Cutter and dictating the precise phrases she wanted used. It was still a picture of home.

"The most dangerous areas are the showers by the gyms, and the grounds behind the lecture hall. Once they've shown an interest in you then you should find a way to be in one of those areas in the early morning or late evening."

"You've got them under surveillance?" Cloud asked. He remembered the need to tape his attack as proof. No one would take his word over theirs.

"We're installing the cameras now when the facility is deserted," the Turk reassured him. "There will also be either a Turk or a SOLDIER close to those areas, so that when Hansin makes the call they can respond immediately. We won't let the attack go on too long."

Cloud nodded, allowing himself to be reassured. He couldn't stop the hand that grabbed his stomach, trying to keep it under control. Tseng saw it, of course, and knew the boy was in danger of throwing up from nerves. "Strife," he waiting until he had the boy's full attention, "What you're doing is very brave and very scary. No one thinks less of you for being nervous."

"Thank you, sir." It was nice to hear, but didn't unravel the knot in his stomach.

"Now I think it's time Hansin started his own vacation."

"He's not staying?" Cloud asked, surprised.

Tseng shook his head. "No, the General is sending someone over."

As he said good-bye to his new partner; a brisk handshake, a few polite words, Cloud couldn't help but feel relieved. He'd assumed that the Turk-to-be would be the one to – he could barely think the words to himself. He'd tried to imagine having those hands on his body, those lips on his and, ultimately, losing his virginity to the other trainee. He couldn't it. In fact, the more he thought of it, the more certain he was that he wouldn't be able to go through with it, so to hear Tseng say that Hansin wouldn't be staying was a relief.

Once Hansin was out the door, Tseng gave Cloud more details on who to expect. "He is a SOLDIER, just achieved 2nd class. He is kind, nice and reasonably good-looking. He's working on his patience but it should be adequate for this. I believe those were your requirements?" Cloud blushed. He was really beginning to hate his mountain fairness. "His name is Zack Fair. I know him. You're in good hands."

Tseng then handed over the security card and the account card, shook his hand solemnly, reminded him to throw the door lock, and left.