Kompression
Description: It began with a house and a dream, but by its end, there will be magic, murder, and the answers to questions long dead but never destroyed. The boy in his basement will see to that. CloudxSquall, AU.
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 and 8 both belong to Square(-Enix), so don't look at me.
A/N: Very dialogue-heavy chapter ahead. Thanks as always for your patience!
9
Saturday morning arrived, and Cloud slept right through it. He woke once or twice when Squall shifted in his arms, but whenever it happened, he fell back asleep quickly. It was nearly noon by the time he was able to open his eyes and keep them that way for more than a few seconds. Even then, it was a struggle to haul himself out of bed before his brain could wake up enough to realize how nice it was to wake up with Squall next to him. Somehow he managed it and spared himself any embarrassment.
After taking his usual morning bathroom trip, Cloud stood at the foot of the bed and debated whether to wake Squall up or let him sleep. The kid looked ridiculously cute curled up beneath the blankets and so comfortable that Cloud wanted to crawl back in with him, making the temptation to leave him there extremely strong. However, Cloud knew Squall would freak out if he woke up and Cloud wasn't there, so, reluctantly, he shook the kid awake and, after leading him to the bathroom and waiting outside for a bit, helped him down the stairs to the kitchen.
Vincent was still unconscious on the living room couch. Cloud checked on him briefly, then started a pot of strong coffee for the three of them. Once the machine was happily percolating, he began the task of finding what, if anything, existed in his kitchen to make a decent breakfast. Squall sat silently at the table, his head resting in one hand, his eyes following the sounds Cloud made as he moved about the room. He seemed to have calmed down considerably from their ordeal the previous night, but the tightness in his back and shoulders betrayed how stressed he still was. Cloud didn't blame him in the slightest. The only reason he was acting so calm was because he was outright refusing to think about it, at least until Vincent was awake and could give him some answers and, hopefully, assurances.
He had decided on scrambled eggs and toast and was breaking the eggs into a bowl when Vincent stumbled into the kitchen. The man still looked half-dead, his eyes hazy and his face pale, and he all but collapsed into the chair next to Squall. As Cloud approached him, he pushed his unbound hair out of his face and tried, with only partial success, to focus on Cloud's face.
"Good morning," he croaked in a voice so deep it was practically a rumble.
"Good afternoon," Cloud corrected, suppressing a grin. He plunked a large mug of coffee down in front of him and continued, "Breakfast will be ready in a couple of minutes. I'm making extra since I thought you might need to, you know, refuel or something." He honestly didn't know how magicians replenished their energy reserves, but he had figured that food couldn't hurt.
Vincent smiled at him as he took the mug. "I will," he replied, confirming Cloud's suspicions. "Thank you." Cloud nodded once, pleased with himself, and returned to the stove while Vincent sipped at his coffee, cradling the mug lovingly in his hands. After a few minutes, he turned to the boy beside him and inquired, "Squall Leonhart, I presume?"
"That's right," Cloud answered. Since the eggs were almost done, he pulled plates out of the cupboard as he continued, "Squall, the guy next to you is Vincent Valentine. I told you about him in the hospital, though I don't know how much you remember from back then." He snuck a look over his shoulder to see Squall staring blankly in Vincent's direction while Vincent openly examined him, his curiosity obvious. Cloud smirked and returned to dishing out the food. He would never admit it, but he liked the way Squall was so hostile to everyone but him. It made him feel like the two of them had a special bond that no one else could elbow in on. When it came to Squall, Cloud didn't feel like sharing.
When the food was ready, Cloud brought three plates to the table. He sat down on Squall's other side, across the table from Vincent, and proceeded to explain to the kid what was on his plate and where it was. Then, he picked up his fork, and silence reigned as the three hungry men began to eat. Vincent absolutely inhaled his portion, somehow managing to still look dignified as he did it. He requested and was given a second helping, and somewhere in the middle of it, he began to slow down. The food visibly improved him, bringing color back into his face and life into his eyes. By the time he placed his fork aside and lifted his mug to sip at the remains of his coffee, he looked as healthy and composed as he ever had.
Across the table from him, Cloud pushed his own dishes aside and smiled slightly. "All better now?" he asked.
"Indeed," Vincent replied with a smile of his own. "Thank you."
Cloud nodded. "Good," he said, grimness taking over his tone. "So how about you tell me just what the hell has been going on?"
The other man didn't lose his smile, but his attitude grew serious as well. He placed his coffee mug down and folded his hands in front of him to gaze at Cloud across the table. "There is so much to tell that I'm unsure where to start," he confessed.
"Well, that bitch Kramer is alive and nearly took out Squall and me last night. Why don't we start with that?"
Cloud's voice had been unnecessarily biting, but thankfully Vincent didn't take offense. "Very well," he said, reaching into a pocket to retrieve his PDA. "When I left here last time," he began, "one of my tasks was to study the notes and determine what the spell that Kramer cast actually did. I discovered that it is a time manipulation spell as I had first suspected. The purpose is to stop time and thereby grant immortality to the caster. I have always worked under the assumption that the spell was successful, so when I learned this, I concluded that Kramer was still alive and called to warn you immediately."
"Immortality," Cloud echoed, his voice flat.
"Yes."
"Wonderful." Dropping his head into one hand, he groaned out, "That's just what we need. An evil witch who can't be killed."
"In essence, yes."
"Lovely."
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Cloud noticed Squall's hand sliding across the tabletop towards him. Without a second thought, he reached out and took it, giving it a reassuring squeeze. When he looked up at that face, empty eyes stared down at where their hands touched, the sadness obvious in that quiet expression. Sternly, he reminded himself that Squall could not only hear but understand everything they were saying. Any distress that Cloud felt from the conversation would affect Squall ten times as much. He would need to remember that and offer comfort whenever necessary. Gently, he squeezed the kid's hand again and moved his chair just slightly closer.
Vincent's sharp eyes were on their linked hands, one eyebrow slightly raised, and it went even higher at the sound of Cloud's chair scraping across the floor. Any comments he had, however, he kept to himself. Consulting his hand-held, he continued, "The spell is accomplished by creating something that Kramer dubbed 'time compression'. All time is compressed into a single moment, thereby eliminating the passage of time and the process of aging. If the caster were to be placed in time compression, however, she would not be able to live among the rest of us and enjoy her immortality. Therefore, a substitute is placed within time compression and the caster connects to the space through this substitute so that she can live normally yet still not age."
"And Squall is the substitute," Cloud guessed. The hand beneath his trembled slightly.
"Exactly," Vincent answered him with a nod. "Mr. Leonhart's soul is stuck within time compression. Furthermore, I discovered that we are dealing with more than one spell. Kramer, in addition to being a very powerful practitioner, is an extremely intelligent woman. Knowing that this spell would have to last indefinitely, she cast, in addition to her main spell, a rather large protective spell and a spell that would give the other two infinite power. The circle downstairs was for this last one. When you broke Mr. Leonhart out of the circle, you deactivated the spell that fuels the other two. They will continue to hold for several more years, but they are now weaker and able to be broken. This is why, when you first broke the spell, Kramer was willing to stay back and take her time, yet as you came closer and closer to breaking what I assume to be the protection spell, she suddenly made her presence known."
Cloud forcibly blew a breath out with puffed cheeks and glanced at Squall. The kid was still staring at their joined hands as if they were the only thing that mattered in the world. If any of this surprised him, he didn't show it. "Go on."
Vincent nodded and continued, "The barriers that I placed around the house last night will keep Kramer away from us for a while, but they are only a temporary solution. We need to break the remaining spells, not only for Mr. Leonhart's sake but for our own as well. Until they are gone, I am certain that Kramer will continue to try to reach us and regain Mr. Leonhart. She will most likely continue trying even after they are gone, but at that point, time will have caught up to her, making her weaker and more vulnerable."
Cloud grunted softly, expressing his understanding, then asked, "And you know how to break them?"
Something heavy settled in his stomach when Vincent slowly shook his head. "At this point, no. I only had enough time to read and decode the notes on how to create the spells. I haven't even begun to create counterspells for them yet. However, I have a task for you to do while I'm working on that, one that will need to be completed before I can cast anything of my own."
"All right. What is it?"
Vincent stared at him for a moment, his dark eyes slightly unfocused in thought. "Perhaps," he said slowly, "I should show you rather than try to explain it." His gaze shifted to Squall, his expression curious once more. "Do you think Mr. Leonhart would mind if I cast the same spell on him as I did on you the last time I was here?"
"The one that lets you see his soul?" Cloud confirmed. When he received a nod in response, he answered, "No, I don't think so. I didn't feel a thing when you did it on me."
Vincent set his PDA aside and lifted his hands to trace circles in the air as he spoke the words of the spell. A few seconds later, a projection sat on the kitchen table, although this one was nothing like the one Cloud had seen before.
"What the hell … ?" he breathed.
Cloud's soul had been a sparkling mass of bright color with that one darker spot that indicated his own personal interloper. Squall's soul, in comparison, was a mess. There was a small circle of color in the very center, but, where Cloud's had moved and shimmered, it was completely still as if frozen. The rest looked divided into four equal parts by two shimmering diagonal lines that passed through the center. Three of the four sections had streaks of colored light constantly racing over a dark background like wild lightning in a stormy sky. The fourth section was simply black, completely empty.
"That's strange," Vincent murmured, sounding confused.
Cloud snorted at him. "Strange is an understatement. What the hell is this?"
The man across from him shook his head slightly as if to clear it. When he spoke again, his voice had the normal professorial tone he used when explaining things. "This is, essentially, the protection spell. In order to ensure that Mr. Leonhart's soul cannot be freed from time compression, most of it has been removed and placed in other locations. The only part of his soul remaining is this small bit in the center, which you'll notice is completely still as time for it has stopped flowing. The rest of his soul has been split into four parts, corresponding to the other four victims, and each part has a lock on it that must be broken before that section of his soul can be reinstated. What confuses me, however," Vincent confessed, leaning closer to the projection, "is why this part here does not have a lock." He tapped the blank section with one finger, his lips pulling down into a frown. "According to the notes, all four sections were locked."
"Well, what do you have to do to unlock them? Maybe it was already done for this one."
Vincent shook his head again, this time in response to Cloud's suggestion. "Unfortunately," he confessed, "I don't know yet how to unlock the sections. As I said before, I haven't had the time to work on it. If this section was unlocked somehow, I don't know what was done, and without that knowledge, I can't duplicate it for the other three." With a mild sigh, he folded his hands in front of his face and rested his chin on his thumbs as he continued to examine the projection. Quietly, he mused, "If only there were some way to tell which of the four victims that section corresponds to. That might help determine how it was unlocked."
The answer hit Cloud like a proverbial ton of bricks, so hard that he barely felt Squall's fingers tightening on his as the kid also seemed to understand.
"Irvine Kinneas."
Vincent glanced up at him, surprised. "What?"
"Irvine Kinneas," Cloud repeated. "That's whose section that is." He lifted his head to find Squall's eyes on him, that expression calmer than it had been all morning. There was even something resembling a smile tugging at the corner of the kid's lips, making Cloud want to smile himself. Feeling a weight lift from his shoulders, he turned to Vincent and explained, "I told you that on Thursday night we had a breakthrough. One that was big enough to get real-Squall almost to the point of complete recovery, and big enough to bring Kramer down on our heads. That was our breakthrough. Dream-Squall remembered Kinneas. It was extremely difficult for him, seriously painful, but he did it."
"I see." Vincent sank his chin deeper into his hands and lowered his eyes to the table once more. "The notes did mention suppressing certain memories. So, forcibly accessing those memories causes the locking spell to break. Interesting." He paused a moment, thinking, then lifted his head and smiled. "I suppose this means I now have two tasks for you. One is to unlock the rest of these sections by helping Mr. Leonhart regain his memories. The other …" He traced the outline of one of the locked sections with a finger, then planted it directly in the center. "The other," he finished, "is to locate the missing pieces of Mr. Leonhart's soul."
"What?" Cloud barked, stunned. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"
Vincent smiled at him, although the enjoyment in it made it seem more like a smirk. "It's easier than it sounds, although it will still be quite difficult." Resuming that teacher-like tone, he explained, "While Mr. Leonhart is the core of the spell, the other four victims were also extremely important. Kramer turned their bodies into the candles that powered the fueling spell, but she used their souls as well. According to the notes, the souls of the four victims each received a portion of Leonhart's soul and then were sent into a time spell of their own. This spell is best described as forced reincarnation. While all souls are reincarnated to some degree, they are dissolved and join with others to reform into new souls, as I told you the last time I was here. These four souls, however, are locked into permanence. They will never dissolve, and they will always find new bodies as long as Kramer's spell continues. This ensures that the portions of Mr. Leonhart's soul never break free and return to him."
"Squall."
"What?" Vincent lifted his head in surprise, catching Cloud's stern gaze.
"Call him Squall," Cloud insisted. "Not 'Mr. Leonhart'. He's just a kid, for God's sake."
The hand he held was trembling again, and somewhere in the middle of Vincent's explanation, Squall had closed his empty eyes. Gently, Cloud smoothed long brown bangs away from the kid's face. All this talk of souls had unnerved him, even more so due to Vincent's cold, clinical way of discussing it. And if he was upset, he could only imagine what Squall was feeling right now.
Vincent's eyes were on them again, on their quiet connection, but just as before, he made no comment other than a gentle, "Very well."
"So you're saying," Cloud said, taking up the conversation himself to keep it away from places he would rather not visit, "that the four victims have all been reincarnated into people who are alive right now, and I need to find them and get them to give up the bits of Squall that they have inside of them. Is that right?"
"Yes, that's exactly right."
"Right." Cloud sighed and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "Any idea how I'm going to do that?"
"Some," Vincent replied. When Cloud lifted an eyebrow at him, he smiled slightly and confessed. "But not much. I did say that it would be quite difficult. The souls will all have been born within this town or very nearby it, and although they may travel around the world, they will always eventually return here. This is where home is, so to speak. The spell keeps them close and will discourage them from getting too far away."
"So they're locals. That's still a lot of people."
"Yes, I know. The only other help I can give you is that these souls were reincarnated in their entirety, meaning their personalities will be almost identical to their originals. Ask Mr. - Ask Squall to describe them to you and look for people who match his memories."
Cloud sighed and sat back in his chair. This was a tall order that Vincent was asking from him. Still, if it had to be done, it had to be done. "Any chance these people remember who they were in their previous lives?"
"Very doubtful," the answer came, fouling his mood even further. "Although," Vincent added, "if you find someone you think might be a candidate, I can hypnotize him or her to find out for sure. In fact …" He trailed off for a moment, tilting his head to one side as he let his eyes rest on Cloud's face. "You have an errant soul inside of you," he commented. "One that connects you to Squall in some way. Do you think you trust me enough to let me hypnotize you now? Perhaps we can find out who it is."
"I think I know who it is," Cloud replied, although the idea intrigued him. At this particular moment, they needed as much information as they could get about the events that had happened and the people who had been involved in them. If they could talk to Almasy, it might prove useful. To Vincent, he said, "I don't mind if you hypnotize me, but I'd like to be aware of what's going on if that's possible. Is it possible?"
"Yes, it's possible. Who do you think it is?"
"The sixth victim. Seifer Almasy."
Vincent hummed in acknowledgement. Tipping his head slightly to one side, he asked, "And how did you reach that conclusion?"
Briefly, Cloud explained the dream he had had and the violent emotions, minus the lust, that had come with it. Just as he was finishing, something heavy fell onto his shoulder. He looked down into a mess of brown hair and at the same time realized that the fingers of the hand he held had gone slack. A brief shock of worry swept through him until he remembered Aerith had warned him that Squall's stamina would probably be very low for the next few days. Even though he had slept parts of last night and most of the morning, the kid was still worn out.
Excusing himself to Vincent, Cloud rose from his chair and somehow maneuvered the half-awake mess of feet and limbs that was Squall back upstairs and into bed. He returned to the kitchen to find Vincent clearing away the breakfast dishes. Together, they finished the job and then wordlessly moved to the living room.
As Cloud sat down on the couch, Vincent knelt down in front of him and remarked, "Well then, time for your lodger to give us some information in payment for his free room and board."
"If you can get him to talk," Cloud warned. "Apparently he was a stubborn bastard when he wanted to be."
The taller man lowered his gaze for a moment in thought. After half a minute in which Cloud waited patiently, he asked, "In that case, can I have your permission to take stronger measures?
"What do you mean?"
"A spell," he explained. "A truth spell to be precise. If I cast it on you, you will have no choice but to answer my questions and answer them truthfully. It's an even greater invasion of privacy, so I'd rather not do it, but if I have to …"
"Go ahead," Cloud told him without hesitation. "If you need to do it, do it. I trust you." When Vincent looked at him with mild surprise, he added, "You saved my life, Vince, and you're working to save Squall's. Why in heaven's name wouldn't I trust you by now?"
Dark eyes dropped to the floor as, for the first time, Vincent seemed to have lost his control on his normal composure. Quietly, he revealed, "In my experience, trust is difficult to come by, especially when someone knows who I am, what I do."
Cloud didn't reply. Instead, he rested his hand on Vincent's shoulder until the other man lifted his gaze to meet his. Their connection was extremely brief, but it was long enough for Cloud to convey how much of a friend he considered the other man to be, even though they had known each other for only a short time. A heartbeat later, the moment had ended and Vincent was explaining how he was going to hypnotize Cloud, what the process involved, and what he should expect.
Even though Cloud had never been hypnotized himself, he knew all about how it worked, or at least how popular agreement said it worked. Considering a magician was the one doing it, he half-expected Vincent to cast some sort of spell on him, using magic to produce quicker and better results, but the man did it the old-fashioned way, using a pen instead of the clichéd pocket-watch. He definitely had doubts about the process, but he ignored them and continued to follow Vincent's instructions until, slowly, his consciousness began to slip and he closed his eyes.
…
Can you hear me?
The voice was fuzzy, like listening through a piece of fabric, but yes, he could hear it. "Yes."
I want you to go back in time to the summer of 1962. Are you there?
1962. Yes, he remembered 1962. "Yes."
Good. Now I want you to tell me your name.
"What the hell business is it of yours?"
His voice had changed. It was angry, challenging. He didn't even really know why. It just felt right to be that way.
… It isn't any of my business, I suppose, but without your cooperation, we're not going to get very far in this.
"Heh, like I care. Too bad for you that I don't really feel like being cooperative today."
I see. Are you sure I can't get you to change your mind?
"Nope. Buzz off, loser."
I suppose I will have to use the truth spell on you then.
Truth spell. That sounded familiar. And it was bad. "Whoa, whoa, wait up! You wouldn't seriously use that on me, would you?"
Of course I would.
"Shit! Don't you fucking dare! I will kick your ass if you do that to me!"
That will be difficult considering you can't move.
He tried to lunge forward towards the voice, strangle its invisible throat, but it was right. He couldn't move a muscle. "Fuck! Shit! Fucking shit!"
Will you be cooperative for me and answer my questions?
"Son of a bitch … yeah. Yeah, I'll talk."
Thank you. Your name now, please.
"Almasy. Seifer Almasy."
And how old are you, Mr. Almasy?
"Seventeen."
Good. Now, I want you to imagine something for me. You're running. Running hard. Looking for something. I want you to tell me where you're running to. What you're searching for.
At first he had thought the voice was stupid for playing pretend, but as the words flowed over him, he started to see images, feel feelings. He was running. And he was looking for … "Squall. I'm running to Kramer's, looking for Squall."
Tell me about Squall.
"He's … shit, he's a fucking little piece of stuck-up shit is what he is! He's always so emotionless, so cold. Like he's got an icicle stuck up his ass. He's a good fighter though, good with his fists. He and I have been fighting ever since we were kids. I don't even know how it started anymore, but we've been at each other's throats for years. Some days, kicking his ass is the only thing that makes me feel alive. He feels the same way, I know he does. Except that lately … fuck …"
Lately … ?
"No, you can't make me talk about it. I'm not gonna talk about it, dammit!"
… Very well. Why are you looking for him?
"Because that bitch kidnapped him! It was Kramer! I saw her get into his car so he could take her home. Raijin and Fujin wouldn't believe me, but I told them I was gonna go after him. I was gonna get her to give him and the others back, dammit."
You saw her get into Squall's car?
"Yeah. I didn't follow the car all the way back to her house, but that was the last anyone saw of him. I knew it was her. And I was right. Paid for it with my fucking life."
Tell me about that night.
"Shit, do I have to?"
Please. It was the day after Squall disappeared, correct?
"Yeah. At school, the principal made the announcement that Squally-boy was the latest victim, so after school I told my friends what I knew and that if I didn't come back, they should call the cops. Then, that night, I went to Kramer's house. She acted all shocked like she didn't know what I was talking about. Kept telling me to calm down. She even offered me tea or some shit like that, but I knocked it out of her hands and grabbed her around the throat. I didn't want to get violent on her since she had been my kindergarten teacher, too, but it was obvious she wasn't going to admit to anything without me doing something desperate. So I grabbed her and threatened to choke her unless she told me where Squall was. That finally made her crack, and she broke down and told me he was in the basement."
What did you do?
"I went down there, of course. I dropped Kramer on the kitchen floor, threw open the basement door, and ran down the stairs. I didn't see anything at first because it's divided into two rooms, but eventually I found the back room and Squall in this weird pillar of light. I didn't see any sign of the other guys, but I had found Squall so I was relieved. For all of about three seconds."
Three seconds?
"Yeah, that's how long Kramer let me look at him before she shot me through the chest with a bolt of lightning. I wish I could say that it was quick and that I died instantly, but it wasn't and I didn't. She had fun zapping every nerve in my body, making me scream, making me burn from the inside out. And the whole time I had Squall there right in front of me, hanging there with his eyes closed and his face peaceful, like he was asleep. I hated him for that. Taunting me with that peaceful expression, showing me the oblivion of death that Kramer wouldn't give me for a very, very long time."
…
"Ha, don't have anything to say now, do you, you sick fucker? Well, it's your own fault for making me relive it. Suck on that, bastard."
Thank you, Almasy, for telling me all that. I think that will be enough for today.
"Oh goody. I'm so glad."
I would like you to come back to the present now. … Are you back in the present?
The present? Oh yes, he remembered the present. The anger and bitterness faded from his voice. "Yes."
And your name is?
"Cloud Strife."
Good. Now, I'm going to count to five while you slowly wake up. When I reach five, you will be awake. Ready? … One … two … three … four …
"… five."
Cloud opened his eyes and found himself looking into Vincent's calm face. He remembered everything. What had happened, how he had felt, the things he had said. He remembered, and it made him shiver.
"Shit," he commented, rubbing his eyes. "Kramer was one sick bitch."
"Yes," Vincent replied quietly. He stood and flexed his knees for a moment to get the tight feeling out of them. "And unfortunately, the past tense verb in that sentence is not exactly correct."
Cloud groaned and leaned into the couch, letting his eyes close and his head flop heavily against the back. "Well, at least we're safe from her for now, yes?"
"Inside the house, yes. As for outside the house, as long as I am with you, you should be fine."
He cracked open an eye at that and peered at his friend. "How long are you planning on staying?" he asked. "Surely not until this is all over. Who knows how long that will take?"
Vincent shrugged lightly and replied, "Well, I have two weeks of vacation plus the week that carried over from last year since I never actually take vacations. If we need more time than that, I'm sure I can work something out."
Cloud blinked at him for a moment, realizing for the first time that he had no idea what Vincent did outside of magic. "Where do you work?" he asked. "What do you do?"
"I work for the government," the other man replied, and then, to Cloud's surprise, he winked. "More than that, you don't need to know."
"Oh God," Cloud laughed. "A wizard in the government. Someone help us!"
Vincent just grinned.
