Chapter Seven: Entreat

"Fancy meeting a boy like you in a place like this."

Roxas snorted, resolutely refusing to look at the man who approached. That had to be the absolute worst pick-up line he'd ever heard. Granted, he hadn't heard many pick-up lines, and the majority of those had been from the same man…and were often also remarkably bad. He didn't need to look to know that the man's hair was an alarming shade of red, or that the triangle shaped markings on his cheeks were still incredibly out of place on his grinning face. It was hard to look at a grinning man with permanent tears. Who tattoos their face, anyway?

He had the kind of face that would photograph well.

"And who are you again?" He responded disinterestedly, trying not to judge the lighting in the room against apertures. Yes, he may have been quite well informed on the red-haired man – Matron's file was extensive on this individual – but that didn't mean he was going to give him the pleasure of showing that he remembered his name. Roxas knew that Sora was counting on him to get the information the others wanted. He knew that even the silver-haired boy was doing his part, and damned if he let that arrogant bastard show him up.

Roxas tried not to smile when he saw the brief aghast shock on the other's face. "Axel. A-X-E-L. Got it –"

"An entire party," Roxas cut him off cleanly, arms folded stubbornly before him, "filled with gallons of free liquor and women, and you choose to spend time over here in the shadows."

"Couldn't pass up the chance to convince you to come back with me." The man winked as Roxas rolled his eyes. "Plus I stocked up on booze first. Want some?"

He eyed the proffered drink warily, the pink umbrella drifting slightly with the gesture. "You honestly think I'd accept a drink from you."

"What, it's not like I would drug my own drink."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Well, if it meant that you'd drag me back to your place, I might consider it next time. Come on, lighten up."

"Under-aged, in case you didn't notice."

"Oh, and like that blonde girl at the bar isn't? She may have fooled her boss, but there's no way she's over 16." Namine. That's right. Kairi was too recognizable here; of course they'd use Namine. What if she messed up? What if they found her as Kairi? Axel was already suspicious, wasn't he? If that happened, they'd all be exposed. What if –

"Don't worry, Kid. I won't rat on your girlfriend." Axel snorted, plucking the paper umbrella from his drink and sticking it in Roxas' hair. He had always found it unnerving in Axel's presence just how easily the other read him sometimes. "Not like this crowd cares much about age, if Sephiroth's new toy is any indication."

"She's not my girlfriend." He muttered indignantly. "And Cloud's older than me."

"Cloud? Oh, the spiky blond? Funny, I don't think Seph ever mentioned he had a name." Axel reached out and ruffled Roxas' hair, earning a manly squawk of protest. "You been chatting it up with him? Didn't look like much of a talker."

Speaking of…was that Strife high-tailing it to the bathroom?

Of all places, why would he run there? Roxas puzzled silently. Tidus used to hide behind the bar.

Oh wait, Axel was still talking.

"…so there I was with a rake, three bottles of elixir and a wooden puppet in a ring of fire…"

Roxas suddenly remembered why he had opted to tune him out. But it could be important, he realized. He was responsible to find out everything he could – even if it meant listening to a night's worth of Axel's stories.

But then again, they had assured him that Axel had already offered himself, however vaguely, to their service. If he could keep the conversation on track, it would go that much faster, right? They were relatively secluded…what were the chances that anyone here would know Matron?

He wished they had let him bring his camera. At least then he had something to hold onto. "Axel. Edea's approached you, hasn't she? You said you'd help her, right?"

Axel paused in his story, quickly glancing about the room before pulling Roxas after him, leering over his shoulder. "Why yes Roxas, I would love to take this elsewhere. Your place or mine?"

"Whaa?" It was all Roxas could do to keep his feet as the man weaved through people on his way to…the stairwell? He nearly tripped over a red-haired woman in a wheelchair. Was she talking to Tifa? But there was no time to think about it as suddenly the party was cut off by the slamming of the stair door.

Suddenly it was silent, as though that one door blocked out even the loudest of shrilled laughter from the party beyond.

"Roxas, you know I love you, but if you're not more careful with what you say, we're all going to be in deep shit." Roxas glared at Axel. It was rather difficult for him to be intimidating when Axel had a good foot of height on him; even more so when the man had him pinned to the backside of the door.

"Let me go."

"Not yet."

"Axel, if you don't let me go now, I won't be held responsible for my actions." Really, Roxas wasn't quite sure what he would do if he didn't, but it didn't stop him from trying. Sora had always been the better fighter, loathe as he was to admit, and to let Sora out now would hardly be wise. He wasn't even sure if Axel knew about Sora, or if he did, what his reaction would be.

"Look, you're going to listen to me right now or I'm going to drag you home with me and you can listen there." He growled, leaning closer. "I agreed to aid your little witch, and to supply her with what I can. But first and foremost, I agreed so that I could see you. So I am going to see you. And I will see only you. But I don't think you understand what that means."

"Excuse me?" God, the lighting was hitting him just so…Roxas closed his eyes. Now was not the time to think about his profile.

"They're going to notice if I just stop in the middle of a place like that and start having a serious conversation, Kid. You've got to think. I have a reputation. An expected method of going about things. Noticeable personality traits."

"So what, we're going to have an information exchange in a dingy stairwell while they think you're molesting an under-aged boy?"

"No." Axel scoffed. "We're going to have an 'information exchange' at the Golden Saucer where I will own your ass at every game available and in the process convince you that you belong with me."

"You know, you're not supposed to voice dastardly plans to the person you're trying to deceive."

"Just thought I'd be gentlemanly and give you fair warning that in a very short amount of time you'll be under me of your own free will."

"Like hell I'd bottom."

"That's the spirit. We'll just see when the time comes."

"Wait, I meant…dammit Axel!" It was a very poorly timed coincidence that at that moment the building shuddered violently in protest, and the doors flew open with a stream of people evacuating the thirteenth floor. Poor in Roxas' eyes, that is; Axel was quite content that Roxas had fallen into his arms, and made it known as he swept the boy off his feet and down the stairs with the rest of the guests.

People say that things are often funnier in retrospect. That hardly comforted Cloud as he and Leon had made their way down the thirteen flights of rusted iron fire escape. In fact, he couldn't even see how this night would be even remotely humorous. Well, maybe in that hysterical verge-of-breakdown sort of way.

His first assignment had ended in a building falling apart around him, being groped by his commanding officer for the amusement of business elites and attempting to get his inebriated comrade down a deathtrap. At this point due far more to the fact that only Leon knew what this Griever looked like, and that it was far easier to get the keys from him without having to fish around in a corpse's pockets than any feelings of camaraderie.

Oh he was all for teamwork. He just liked being alive at the end of it.

But being the gentleman that he was, he went down the shaking, shifting, sliding exit first, testing the way. Against his better judgement after making sure of the footing, he would wait; would watch Leon's footing on the frail looking ladders and make sure he got down without falling to his death.

But by Gods, when they reached the ground he was driving.

True, he couldn't remember if he knew how to drive, but he certainly trusted himself far more than he trusted a sloshed and possibly emotionally strained mercenary. Men with emotions should never be trusted to act logically.

Of course everything he did in helping the man had to be remarkably subtle. He knew the man well enough now to suspect that any sort of aid on his part would not be well received. Even if half of the hurried steps down the ladder rungs only connected thanks to the blond's hasty replacement of the other's foot.

It made him wonder just how quickly Leon had downed his last few drinks for it only to be hitting him so hard now. No, maybe he was just incredibly good at hiding it on even footing.

Over his shoulder he could see a crowd gathering at the front of the building, leaving a good expanse of space that was no doubt an unspoken danger zone. He made sure to avoid the mangled wreckage of coffee table as he reached the ground. Leon was less fortunate as he stumbled on a rather large chunk of shattered glass, and Cloud snorted as the other man pushed off his steadying arm once he had gained his footing.

If he wanted to wait until he fell again to shrug off his pride, so be it.

"Someone will notice us here, and I doubt you'd be very convincing with a cover now. Where's your transport?' Cloud started walking away from the building's fascinating shedding front. Were there any screens left to fall?

His feet were getting drenched. A glance up showed a ruptured pipe showering the alleyway. The water was cold.

"And the night just keeps on getting better." He muttered darkly. And Leon was just standing there looking mildly shell-shocked as a screen crashed down.

"Move it, Leonhart." They would first remove themselves from the scene. From there, the next order would be to make contact with the rest of their operatives to determine a location and course of action. No doubt that brief exchange with Tifa would need to be followed up on anyways, or at the very least check in so they weren't looking for their bodies. Did he need to be seen leaving with Sephiroth, or had the man already left the commotion?

For a leader, Leon certainly seemed to take a lengthy time to decide on taking solid action. He made up the other's mind by catching his arm and dragging him after, sloshing merrily through the small forming lake.

Survival.

Whoever set off that explosion could still be around. Arriving authorities would want answers, and spending time in a police station really didn't seem all that appealing. If there was anything Cloud was good at, it was surviving.

Leon's phone was ringing again, and he was fumbling to get it. Without breaking stride, Cloud had snatched it from his hands and flipped it open.

"Yeah?"

There was a weighted silence for a moment on the other end before a low smooth voice took over. "…why do you have Squall's phone?"

He would know that voice anywhere. Leon was levelling a death glare at the blond as they were moving. Between watching where his feet were landing, of course.

"That's not an issue right now, Sir." Cloud returned the glare and made sure to keep a good distance from him. "Leon assures me that we are near his transportation. What are your orders at this time?"

"…Return to base. Check in with Gainsborough before turning in."

"Yes Sir."

"Here." Leon jerked Cloud to a stop and the blond tossed back his phone. "Get on."

'On' referred to a sleek chrome motorcycle with black detailing. There was a rather prominent etching on the front left; a rearing winged lion. Why was that familiar…oh right. That necklace…and ring.

"That's Griever?"

"You sound like it should be something else." Leon said dryly. "What would you prefer, a town car? Chocobo? Giant metal spider?

"You accessorize far too much. You name your guns that too?" He snorted, holding out a hand expectantly.

"…What." Leon grabbed his helmet from the side bag, tossing Cloud the spare. "Let's go."

"I'm driving."

"Like hell you are." He knew this would happen. Damn it, the man was in no condition to be trusted with anything that could kill them, and yet he still held on futilely to his pride. Well they weren't going to just sit around all night.

"Fuck Leon. I just told the General that we would make it back tonight. Either I drive, or we use that bloody phone of yours to call in your 'town car'. Or giant metal spider, if you think they'll rent one out at this time of night."

They stood like that for longer than Cloud thought he had the patience for. There was a moment wherein Cloud weighed the pros and cons of knocking him unconscious and figuring out how to transport him back from there. Thankfully, the scarred man tossed over the ignition keys around the point where Cloud was searching for a reliable means to keep the man on the bike while unconscious.

"You even know how to ride?" Leon grunted as Cloud swung himself onto Griever.

The blond patted the seat behind him with a smirk. "If you hold on, I promise to get you back in one piece before your mother even knows."

"Oh fuck you." He sat down heavily, arms mechanically wrapping around the blond in his bout of stubborn pride.

And this bike clearly wasn't intended to carry two people on a regular basis, much less two grown males. Never mind Cloud's smaller stature. No doubt the brunet used the second seat to cruise the town with young girls. Yuffie sized. He wouldn't put it past him.

Well, if he wasn't positive that Leon was intoxicated, this would have been a far more awkward position. But as it was, he loosened his tie, revved the engine and kicked off into the night.

For some reason, the feel of the helmet pressing against his skull felt strange and foreign, even as the bike felt right beneath him. Even more unfamiliar were the arms holding like bars of steel and the warmth at his back.

Knowing the way back seemed easier from memory than he had expected, and –

Glowing green eyes were staring at him…pain. His heart? His heart was leaking. Leaking green?

The bike swerved as one of Cloud's hands shot up to clutch his head, cool flat fibreglass meeting his bare hands. Had to get it off. Get it off. It wrenched clear with one motion, his neck crying in protest, Leon shouting in alarm as the blond threw it from the moving vehicle.

His head was throbbing, his vision swimming dangerously.

Fire. It had to be leaking fire. Why else was everything burning? And those eyes…those eyes were sane. Flash of light. Sound? Flash of sound. A gunshot. Two. Tifa?

"Cloud!" the steel bars tightened, even as the wind caught the rest of his words. Cloud needed to breathe.

Nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong. Maybe if he repeated his mantra enough Leon would believe him. Maybe he'd believe himself. He was nothing if not good at deluding himself. Leon was the incompetent one. Leon was the one who couldn't be trusted. Damned if he stopped.

So rather than pull over and take a moment – a moment that no doubt would have included another bout of heated debate and wasted time – he ignored the voice that was already mostly lost in the wind. They were almost back anyhow.

Maybe he could convince Leon the helmet had been too restricting -- was ruining his hair. Was…Cloud cursed silently. At the very least he'd owe the scarred man a new one.

Even before he had pulled the motorbike to a stop, he could see the form of the curtain-rod wielding nurse waiting for them at the doors to the medical building. She looked worried, if not fully distressed.

"Strife, help me get Leon to a cot." She rushed to the bike, attempting to pull one of Leon's arms away.

Surprisingly, it took a joint effort from her and the blond to do so, which was remarkably difficult from his angle. Really, if Leon wanted his arms around him that much, all he had to do was ask.

…actually, Cloud wasn't quite certain what he'd do if the brunet did. Better to think about that later. Or not.

"The General said that there was a chance that Leon had become compromised. I'm inclined to agree." Her hand gripped his shoulder tightly, the other forcing the brunet to look at her. "Leon - Squall. Come on. You probably feel pretty heavy right about now, but if we can get you inside I can fix that."

Cloud dismounted quickly, pulling off the other's helmet. It looked like he was consciously trying not to let his head loll. Either that, or to not lose the contents of his stomach. "What the hell happened? He was fine half an hour ago. Well, not like yesterday, but he'd been drinking and –"

"Just help me get him inside." The woman – Gainsborough - was ignoring him, trying to position herself under Leon's arm so that his weight wouldn't pull her down once he was off the motorcycle. It was probably a futile effort on her part, but she looked damned determined in her task.

"Move." Cloud pulled her aside, swinging Leon over his shoulder in one motion. When he straightened, she stood blinking at him for a brief moment before hurrying to hold the door open for him.

If it was possible, it seemed as though the small forest of her domain had grown in three days, now filling spots he could have sworn had lain empty just days before. She had kept the space around the beds clear though, for which he was grateful. Cloud found himself surprised to see that the cots were kept a pristine white. For reasons beyond him, he had thought that she would have changed the sheets into something more…homey? She was an odd girl, to be sure.

And after the scarred man had been placed on the stark white sheets, Cloud was hit with just how out of place he looked there. For some reason, it didn't seem right for this man to exist in an infirmary.

"Just what happened?" The other man had broken into a sweat, and Gainsborough was quickly relieving him of his suit's coat and vest. His shoes landed with distinct thuds across the room.

"Sit down." She was checking his temperature, waving the blond off to the adjacent cot as she moved to test Leon's pupil dilation. "Well, it looks like the General was only partially right in his assessment of what he ingested, which is a good sign at least. The General was made aware that someone at the party spiked a few of the drinks, Leon's included. As of yet he's not sure what the intent was. He should be fine with a few days bed rest, though."

"I'm going to administer some sedatives for him to bypass the substance's affects on his muscle tissue, so hopefully he'll be able to get a peaceful sleep tonight." Gainsborough was watching Cloud carefully now. "I think you should get some rest too. It's not easy working with the General, especially not when you're called to do so on such short notice."

From his seat on the cot, the ground beneath his feet seemed to become increasingly interesting. Was that linoleum tiling? It certainly had more give than concrete, but it looked more solid than tile. They all knew what his function had been, and probably would be in all future missions wherein he was paired with the General. Of course they would know. Had he really thought they wouldn't?

What type of wishful thinking would make him think that only Tifa and Leon would know?

"I want you to know that I'm here in case anything…if you need anything."

"What, you think I can't take care of myself?" His hackles shouldn't have been rising. She was trying to help.

"I think that the General has a way of playing with people that adds undue stress upon those under him. We have yet to determine if working with him will have a severe adverse affect on you but frankly I'd rather prevent it early than wait until you decide to jump out a plane."

He averted his eyes as the needle she had produced pierced the other man's arm, hands clenching in the sheets. He hated seeing weakness. He hated seeing needles. He hated being around doctors, even ones as peculiar as this girl that smelled of growing things.

"You'll stay here until morning, Mr. Strife. At the very least, you'll be helpful in assisting with Leon should there be any unforeseen problems."

"I thought you said he should be fine."

"'Should' is the operative word. We can only assume that they wouldn't attempt to kill him without a more visible objective."

"You still haven't told me how he ended up like this."

"I'll wake you if I need you. Until then, get some rest." She smiled softly. "And Cloud…thank you for bringing him home safely."

He had been with someone else – the man with the infallible smile. He had been with his light, facing another so bright it shone darkness. Blindness. They had been blinded by trust; by faith.

There had been sound – unbearable sound, so loud it felt as though nothing in the world existed beyond that noise.

And then silence.

Two bodies had fallen. Three? No, more before that. The corpses piled on his shoulders, and he staggered as his chest bled fire.

Green-eyed fire.

It was near the mountains. In the mountains?

The smell of chemicals invaded his senses, and he reared awake, hands automatically searching for something – anything that could be used to hurt, defend, escape.

But it wasn't steel grating or rocky barren ground that met his bare fingers, but warm fabric and linen sheets.

"Good morning." A laughing voice said softly, and he opened his eyes to meet brown and a curtain of dark hair. Tifa? No…softer. More delicate. "Are you feeling better?"

Better? Had he been feeling worse?

His eyes lighted upon the dark form of Leon tucked safely in the neighbouring cot.

"Where is the nurse?"

"Aeris?" The dark-haired not-Tifa smiled. "Out. I said I'd take care of things while she was gone. I wanted to see Squall anyhow; it's why I came to visit, after all. Looks like my plans are always foiled, somehow."

"…Who are you?" He ran a hand through his tufted hair loosely, glad that the frantic surprise he had initially felt upon waking was coming under control. He didn't like the fact that he hadn't heard her come into the room, asleep or not.

"Oh! That's right, I haven't told you. The others have told me so much about you, even though it's only been…oh, not very long at all. Rinoa Heartily, at your service, Mr. Strife." She held out a hand enthusiastically. He took it gingerly, letting her vigorously pump his arm. "I used to co-ordinate with the team a few years ago, but since then I've had other priorities unfortunately."

"Heartily?" Why was that name familiar?

She made a soft sound of agreement as she moved forward, brushing Leon's bangs away from his face carefully. Her eyes seemed to linger on his scar.

He looked like he was sleeping peacefully now. Funny, he looked more open as he slept. There was a small jolt of satisfaction to know that even Leon couldn't keep his barriers up while unconscious. And if last night he truly was drugged, poisoned, hypnotized, compromised – it meant the stoic bastard wasn't as impervious as he presented. Cloud wondered vaguely what the success rate of the team was.

"Aeris tells me that he just needs his rest," She was smiling again as she faced him. "I'd like some time with you though, Mr. Strife. I highly doubt that Squall would appreciate seeing me here when he wakes."

"Why's that?" Cloud couldn't help the dry note that seeped into his words. Why did Leon not like this woman? Well, wagering a guess, she knew too much if she was still referring to him as Squall. Then again, Leon didn't seem like the type to get on well with many people who pried, so it obviously didn't take much. She clearly wasn't a real fighter, and men like Leon valued strength above all else. Valued wit above all – no. No. That wasn't him. That man was dead. How? What the hell was happening to his memories?

"We all have our pasts, Mr. Strife, and you and I have only first met." Her smile had not left, but he could see that she was hiding behind it as she slid an arm through his, guiding him towards the door. "If you tell me your secrets, I'll tell you mine."

"I don't have any secrets." He said carefully, awkwardly sidestepping a large collie waiting outside.

"Where are you from?" The door to a large black car was opened for him by a large – very large- man who gestured for him to get in. The woman all but pushed him in, following after into the depths.

"I'm not allowed to leave the base without—" was she insane? A kidnapping of a complete stranger? What if he hurt her? Then again, her two escorts looked pretty dangerous themselves.

"I had Sephiroth and Edea sign the papers three hours ago." With a gesture, the large man in the passenger seat had produced a release form emblazoned with the General's precise scrawl and Matron's more sedate signature. "But you're avoiding my question. Kiros, home."

The car pulled away, and the doors locked with a final and ominous click.

And for some reason, the only image he had was of Leon lying unconscious in a garden.

"Where are you from?"

"I don't know."

"Think harder."

Think harder. Think harder? As if that always worked. So Cloud responded with the only thing he could think of. Besides the dark-haired laughter. "…Mountains. Near the mountains."

"City or town?" She pushed.

"…town."

"Well that doesn't narrow it down much."

"…I don't think it's there anymore."

"I'm sorry." She looked strange. What was that look? Pity? It's not like I lost anything; I can't even remember if I had anything to loose. And in an instant, it was gone, her smile back in place, hands clasped together eagerly. "Well what do you want me to answer then? A deal's a deal."

"Nothing."

"Come on, there has to be something you're curious about?"

Cloud admitted to himself that there were many questions he had. How did she know Leon? What was her function? How did she know what she did? What gave her the right to address his superiors so inferiorly? Where was she taking him? Had she ever killed anyone before? How did she get the large man in the front to tolerate a mangy dog on his lap?

"If you know the members of this team…do you know where Selphie Tilmitt got her trains?"

She blinked at him a moment. "That's it?"

"That's it." The woman looked like it was an odd question. Was it?

And then she laughed. Cloud blinked. And she laughed some more. "They made the right choice in you."

"What do you mean by that?" That girl had murder in her eyes that day. If he didn't find a replacement for it soon, he didn't doubt that his health was at risk.

"I made the trains."

Wait, what? "You did?"

"I did."