Yes, I'm back.
Chapter X
Obscurity
"To know the road ahead, ask those coming back."
~Chinese Proverb
"Sir, you're not authorized to- oof!"
Zack pushed the security guard out of the way with a quick, "Sorry!" and a shrug as he sprinted after Genesis' retreating figure.
'Damn, he's fast,' Zack admitted grudgingly as he turned yet another corner, only to be met with...nothing. He looked around hastily, trying to see where he had escaped to.
The room was a dead end. It appeared to be a sort of locker room, much like the one he'd been in with several other male competitors before the event had officially started. It was relatively clean, by locker room standards, which caused him to believe that it belonged to the female participants...
So...he'd chased Genesis into the women's locker room. Zack couldn't help but smile slyly. 'Focus, Zack,' he mentally scolded himself before the thought could go any further. 'As amusing as this may be, he's still nowhere in sight...'
He scanned the room again, gathered his bearings, then examined the room with a critical eye and set to work.
"Where are you?" Zack muttered aloud after a minute of searching through the lockers, under benches, even on the ceiling. Where could he have gone when there was nowhere to run? Well, he'd just have to wait here for him to come out. "I need to talk to you, is all. I've been searching for you everywhere and-"
"ZACK!"
Zack spun around just in time to see Cloud barrel through the door, Denzel close behind. It had been the latter who had shouted, though both their faces were filled with urgency.
"We need...to get out of here! Some Turks...are on our trail! We....ran into them as we were chasing you, and we...just barely got away!" Denzel sputtered between breaths.
Zack's eyes widened at the words. "What? Damn... it figures they'd pick a time like this to show up." Man, he was so close... He hesitated, then he straightened and nodded in agreement, switching gears from pursuer to the pursued. As close as he was to finding Genesis, their safety was more important.
"Come on," Zack said. "I think I remember how to get out of here from here...Yeah, I do." He nodded reassuringly as they sprinted out of the room and turned right immediately. They saw a brief flash of black suits before they turned the corner and sped off, energy back in a burst of adrenaline.
The three pairs of running feet clanged in the empty metal halls, so loud that Zack was sure the Turks would find them simply by their footsteps. Finally, they emerged from the arena into what appeared to be the back alley. Zack turned his head to make sure Cloud and Denzel were behind him, turned to face forward again, then skidded to a stop.
They were on the ledge of the Battle Square section of the huge, giant tree-like structure that was the Gold Saucer. Below them, the clouds drifted eerily around the giant metal 'trunk' that held the whole amusement park aloft. The echoes of the far-off carnival tune flitted to their ears, coming from one of the plates above, no doubt.
There seemed no place to go. Zack looked around frantically, hearing the distant sound of polished, black shoes trod through the hallways from which they'd just come. They didn't have long...
His eyes searched critically. Then he saw it. There. Under the plate and tens of yards below the edge were two thick black ropes. 'The Ropeway,' Zack's brain supplied. But it wasn't where he remembered it to be...Had they really gone under this particular plate when they'd arrived? Well, it didn't really matter; as slim as it may be, they had a chance. It was a risk, for sure, but...
Zack braced himself, then turned to a Cloud, who was searching for an escape route as well, and to a panicked-but-trying-not-to-show-it Denzel. "Do what I do," he said, and his eyes flickered to Cloud's. A silent understanding fluttered between them, and the blonde nodded trustingly.
Without hesitation, Zack jumped. Behind him, he heard Denzel's cry of confusion and the ever-closer Turks.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, reveling in the feeling of the wind as it brushed fingers through his hair, as he cut through it face-first only for it to hug and slide across his body a millisecond after.
"Flying...it looks so...liberating."
"Those wings...I want them, too."
Every word led to another, and soon the memories were playing with clarity in his mind's eye...
"Look at me, Zack. I've become a monster."
"No, you're wrong! Those wings aren't the wings of a monster..."
"Then what are they?"
"...Angel's wings."
"...I see. Then as an angel, what are my goals? What are my dreams?"
"...Angeal-"
"Angels have only one dream."
"Tell me."
"To be human."
'I don't dream of wings anymore, Angeal,' Zack thought. 'But this would be a whole lot easier if I could fly, for sure.'
His eyes flew open, and in one fluid movement, he thrust out his hands in front of his head, adjusted his body, then braced for the imminent whiplash that would follow.
An instant later, his palms hit the rope, and he quickly wrapped his fingers tightly around it. His momentum caused his body to continue its downward motion, and it was only with a great deal of concentration and teeth-grinding that he kept his hold when he felt his shoulders pop and threaten to leave their sockets.
After a brief second to collect his bearings, Zack looked up at Cloud. He could barely see a glimpse of the blonde; just his face and distinctive hair as he bent over the edge.
A moment later, Cloud was falling, Denzel's arms locked around his torso from behind.
"Nice of you to drop in," Zack said with a grin, and Cloud winced at the pun. Denzel looked pale as he clung to the blonde's back, obviously with no intention of letting go any time soon.
Zack watched as Cloud shifted slightly, adjusting his arms. They were in the same position; arms reaching up overhead, grabbing the rope, body dangling precariously over the land. He tried keep his thoughts away from how far the drop was: far enough so that it disappeared in a murky blackness, fog its only companion as the abyss stretched to the valley below.
'This is crazy,' he marveled to himself. 'Absolutely CRAZY.'
Carefully, he started descending – hand over hand – towards the ground, guided only by the slight downward slope of the rope.
'Totally crazy', he repeated in his head as he looked down at the chasm, aware that the only thing keeping him from being swallowed up was a rope. And yet, for some unreachable, odd reason, Zack couldn't keep the grin off his face.
Genesis was pissed. Not only had he lost that ridiculous fight, but the little puppy (who was supposed to be dead! Since when are dead people walking and talking and being generally obnoxious?) had had the gall to follow him into the tunnel. And on top of that, he himself had had too much pride to bend down and retrieve his rapier from the sand. It was surely still their, unless some obsessed fan had braved the security guards to retrieve it. After all, not many knew of the fact that it was simply a mediocre replica of his real one (he'd never have risked the chance of getting his precious sword stolen, and -- the Gold Saucer being the Gold Saucer -- the chance was just too high). Regardless, the whole event had left him almost completely weapon-less.
'My friends, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains,' Genesis thought bitterly. Automatically, his brain tacked on, 'Act IV, lines 1 and 2'. Which made him think of Sephiroth...
He watched Zack carefully through the cracks of the locker. He'd managed to squeeze himself inside just as the brat had barreled into the room. He grinned slyly when Zack got frustrated after only a minute. Impatient puppy, indeed. It seems 'death' had not changed that.
"Where are you? I need to talk to you, is all. I've been searching for you everywhere and-"
But his words were interrupted by a boy with disheveled russet hair and a young blonde man (who looked vaguely familiar, for some reason...) as they ran into the locker room, one after the other.
After a brief, hasty explanation, all three males were gone from the room. A minute later, Genesis removed himself from the locker, sighed, and adjusted his drab cloak mindlessly. If what they boy had said about there being Turks here was true, he really should be going. After all, he wasn't on the best terms with Shinra anymore...
Genesis snorted at that thought. 'Understatement of the year, I daresay.'
It was only too easy to leave Battle Square unnoticed. He slipped from shadow to shadow, and every time a person sensed his movement, he was gone when they looked back.
A split second decision led him to the Gold Saucer Entrance/Exit. There was no use staying around any longer, anyway. He'd been 'dethroned', whatever that meant. 'I was tiring of it anyway,' Genesis thought primly, and while some people might argue that that was simply his pride talking,it really was quite true. 'It attracts unwanted attention, and that place was unmistakably tacky. It's time I left.'
"Thank you for visiting the Gold Saucer!" chirped a person in an obnoxiously yellow Chocobo suit. Genesis responded with a smile. The man didn't seem to get the picture, and continued to talk even after and as he was passing him. The sound he was emitting from his mouth was hardly even a voice; it sounded like his vocal cords had been dipped in eggs and then fried. Just as he was about to step onto the tram, Genesis cast 'silence' from the materia he always held for moments such as these in his pocket. Who cares if people might call it a childish act? It was only merciful, after all. This way, no one would be forced to suffer with hearing that positively vexing sound. And he was doing that man a favor, too, for surely someone much unkinder than he would walk by at some point and beat him to a bloody pulp for the mere fun of hearing him squeak in that high-pitched little voice. In the long run, he was really doing Chocobo-man a benignity to withhold him from it, and therefore his job.
...Or maybe he was just trying to justify his own infantile sadism. Yes... That might be it.
When he turned his back and stepped onto the Ropeway vehicle, the poor man was holding his throat and choking, confused on why his vocal folds suddenly refused to work.
"Was that really necessary?" Genesis could almost picture Angeal saying if he was with him. He would have had that look on his face, the exasperated one he always got whenever Genesis was acting childish, (which was most of the time, according to Angeal...).
He imagined what Sephiroth would do if he were there, too. He would have said no words, instead sending him a raised eyebrow and a slight frown. He would have reached out his left hand and silently cast a spell of his own, relieving the unfortunate greeter in the stupid costume from Genesis' inflicted Silence.
Sighing, and blatantly aware of his friends' absences, Genesis released his concentration on the Silence spell – and by doing so, removing the spell – just as the doors closed and the tram was off. There. Now he wouldn't have to feel guilty. He hoped Angeal and Sephiroth would have been happy at his maturity.
Yes, Genesis had gone far in his years of seclusion. More mature. Less sadistic. Possibly...
Or maybe not.
'The gift of the goddess is what the three men seek. But their fates are scattered by war. One becomes a hero, one wanders the land. And the last is taken prisoner,' Genesis mused as the Ropeway puttered along its track. 'That is how the story goes. If this is true, then my fate has surely been decided.'
Years ago, when both his friends were still alive and healthy and thriving, Genesis had harbored a not-so-secret grudge against the both of them, especially Sephiroth.
'Everything always came so easy for you,' Genesis thought, leaning back in the sticky leather seat and closing his eyes.
'The infinite mystery.'
'The gift of the goddess is what the three men seek,'
'But their fates are scattered by war'
'One becomes a hero, one wanders the land,'
'And the last is taken prisoner.'
'Back then, I thought Sephiroth was the Hero... That was what I hated about him, what I desired above all else. Also, that is what I knew, deep down, there was no point in pursuing, for if that was what Fate had decided, who was I to defy it? But still, I envied him...'
'Angeal...but no. Angeal was the Hero, in the end. He died for what he believed in. He died to save one of the last people he cared about. He died for his student... To stop himself from becoming a monster. And to show him...' (1)
'You always had more honor than I, Angeal. No one could deny that. Especially not after...that.'
'And Sephiroth...as heroic as I knew he was, he wasn't what the story was speaking of. No...I believe he was the true Prisoner. 'And the last is taken prisoner'...Sephiroth was taken prisoner, indeed; taken prisoner inside his own mind, his own body. Only in death was he released from the binds, and even then he was never truly free.'
'But Sephiroth's story isn't over, if what the poem says is true. Perhaps he's fighting a battle at this very moment in the Lifestream. Or perhaps the 'woman of an opposing nation' that the Prisoner falls in love with is Jenova, and their oath to meet again only means to confine him to his prison once more.'
'And I...I am left to wander the land. I am the one left behind. Of course I am. That's how it always was.'
Genesis scoffed. 'Strange, but I never thought that I would be the Wanderer. I never would have imagined...'
To his surprise, he felt his throat grow dry and his eyes begin to sting. Hastily, even though no one was in the tram to see him, he hunched over and put his face in his hands.
"More than I could ever express do I miss you both..." Genesis muttered, his voice soft. He felt rather unstable, speaking aloud to an empty room. But that was okay, he supposed; since when had anyone ever thought he was entirely stable? Since when had anyone ever talked to him like a human being, instead of a maniac that could blow at any second? Since when had anyone respected him for him, rather than just being mindlessly terrified of him? The scientists in the lab had all been scared of him. Even Lazard, the director of SOLDIER himself, (2) had just let him do as he pleased, to some extent. And his parents... Well, those fools weren't even worth mentioning.
When had the job of reporting to General Rhapsodos changed from an honor to a punishment? When had-?
'Stop that. Self-pity is beneath you. They were all scared because you made them scared. You did it on purpose; why are you acting like it wasn't something you wanted?'
Besides, Angeal had never treated him like that. Neither had Sephiroth. At least, they hadn't... until the end. But, realistically, he had been dangerously unstable at that point. Of course he'd been unstable. He had been dying. Slowly. Painfully. He'd tried to stop it, but there was no stopping it (3). And Angeal and Sephiroth had tried to help, but he'd only gotten the first killed and the second... The second, well, he knew that was his fault, too.
The fact was, as much as he begrudged and blamed them while they were alive, the years that followed their death led him to realize how much he missed them. How much he had depended on them.
And, of course, the guilt had come. And it was still there. How could he ever forgive himself? He'd been the cause of their deaths... Angeal's death directly, though Sephiroth's death, too. Perhaps, if he'd been there for his silver-haired friend as he discovered the secret of his past, instead of revealing the true origins of his 'mother' in an unnecessarily cruel manner, things would have been... different. Maybe if he hadn't even told him about Jenova at all... If he hadn't so casually told him he was a monster... If he'd acted as though he cared ...Perhaps he would've stayed sane, and Jenova would have never gotten her greedy little hands on him.
Perhaps. And as vague as the word 'perhaps' is, it could have very well caused a whole new chain of events. Shinra would have been obliterated. Meteor never would have come. Deepground would have never proposed his services, then gone berserk on the WRO and the rest of the world. And speaking of Deepground...
A faint thud reminded the man of reality. He shoved his musings to the back of his mind hastily, ashamed of himself for being so sentimental. He froze in his seat, ears perked. The noise had come from above him, as though someone was on the roof of the tram...
Thud.
There it was again, though a bit louder this time. He was ready for it, and was able to pick out what he thought was the clang of combat boots on metal...
Someone was on the roof. Two someones, most likely, judging by the sound of it.
Like a predator waiting for its prey, Genesis stepped towards the sliding doors to the tram and hugged the wall directly beside it. Then, he leaned his back against the wall, lifted one of his long leather boot-ed legs, and pushed against the wall adjacent to it. The angle he was at allowed him to climb up a brief ways, and when he reached the admittedly low-hanging ceiling he grabbed an overhanging bar that was probably connected to the electrics of the lights in the tram, and put his frontal weight on that.
There. From his position, he was directly over the door. Anyone trying to come in would meet a nice little surprise called the ground...
To his disappointment, (admittedly, he was still a little sadistic...), though, the tram then took the opportunity to stop completely. After a brief glance out the dark window, he managed to make out a wooden shack and a makeshift station that obviously meant that this was his stop. For a moment, he thought he saw two figures dart into his vision and then out, but the narrow window stopped him from investigating any further. Genesis' bright Mako-green eyes narrowed. After all that work on getting up on the ceiling, and he wouldn't even be able to use this delightful advantage? Well, he couldn't have that...
"Hello, welcome to North Corel! Can I help you take your...- Hello? Any-?"
With a satisfying crunch, Genesis landed gracefully on the greeter, a man in his late forties with graying black hair and tanned, uneven skin. The man groaned beneath Genesis boots, face-down on the ground. Delicately, Genesis rubbed his right foot into the base of his skull at the back of his neck as he straightened his cloak, making sure his face was well-concealed. The man yelped pitifully.
"Why thank you, sir. I feel welcome already," Genesis said with a dark smile. In response, the man whimpered.
Just before Genesis slipped off into the shadows, he turned, mentally grappled for a moment, then sighed in resignation. A soft green glow formed around his hand. "Cure," Genesis muttered, concentrating on the most recent victim of his so-called 'hissy fits', as Angeal had called them.
'There, Sephiroth, Angeal. You see? I'm doing fine without you. I'm keeping my hands clean...mostly.' Genesis thought to himself just before he disappeared into the night.
Meanwhile, the greeter stood up, feeling suddenly rejuvenated and more than slightly confused. What the hell just happened...?
Yuffie glared. It was simply the most evil expression ever to haunt the Planet. No one would dare to mess with her when she was wearing that face, she was sure.
And yet the woman in the white coat didn't even appear phased. Instead, she bent down again, needle aloft.
"Don't you dare!" Yuffie shrieked unexpectedly. Her voice cracked. Hm. That was weird. It felt like she hadn't spoken in awhile. How very odd...
Hm... Odd. What a funny word. Odd. Why were there two 'd's, she wondered? 'O-d' would sound exactly the same, and yet still people continued to use up all that empty space for that extra 'd' in there. People were so weird sometimes.
Yuffie giggled at the thought. She was about to ask that white-coat woman what she thought about it, but her question was interrupted when she felt a harsh sting in her arm.
Ow! "Ow!" she bellowed, voicing her irritation. "What did you do that for?!" she demanded harshly. Gosh, what a meanie that lady was...
Heh... Meanie...what a funny word. How strange that one could simply tack on an 'ie' to an adjective and make a pronoun. Or was it a pronoun to an adjective? Or was it an adverb? She giggled. Such a funny language.
"How do you feel?" the white-coated-meanie-lady asked crisply, clipboard clutched to her chest like a mother soothing a child.
...Feel? Hmm... Well, now that she thought about it, she did feel kinda funny... All light and silly-like. And why was it so bright? And white. Why was that? And the whiteness was growinganddevouringand-
"Gawd, just turn the lights off!" Yuffie said shrilly, suddenly unable to even keep her eyes open. She reached up to shield her face from the annoying color only to realize that her wrist was bound to the table. Without much thought, she yanked a bit harder with her arm, and the material suppressing her limb ripped at once. She did so with her other arm, too, and then threw her forearms over her eyes. Ahhhh...the total darkness was a sweet relief.
"...Hm. 'Avoidance of light'?...Check," the lady murmured to herself as she looked at her clipboard, not even turning to see that Yuffie was currently unbound.
Yuffie frowned. ...Her arms and legs stung, still. She'd felt it when she'd first become aware, but it seemed to be growing...stronger. But it wasn't the type of specific sting that pinpointed an area, like a needle, but more like...it was everywhere. Like a thousand shots all at once, a sort of hot searing pain. Like her skin was slowly being peeled off.
And there was a different sort of pain in her stomach. It took a moment for her to realize that she was hungry. Famished, actually. Food...Ifrit, she needed food. She opened her eyes and looked around achingly, her eyes passing over the scalpels and other sinister-looking medical equipment, ignoring the needles in her eyes as she braved the evil light, as though expecting a plate of fried fish to suddenly appear on the small table next to her.
Fried fish...yum. There was that one woman who used to make wonderful fried fish (why couldn't she remember her name?). Her stomach growled approvingly. But her frantic eyes saw no delicious plate of food. In fact, nothing even looked remotely edible.
"...Food?" she groaned at the lady, question in her eyes. "...Please?" Haha. 'Please'...what a funny word. It rhymes with...what was the word? That's right...'cheese'. But it meant something completely different. You couldn't eat 'please'. Yuffie giggled at the thought. Who would think of eating a word, anyway?
Eat...Food. Ugh. She wished people really could eat words. There would be no way to ever go hungry again. And she wouldn't have that ache in her stomach any more...
The evil-white-doctor-lady said something, but all Yuffie caught was gibberish mumbling, and she honestly didn't care about it, anyway. She was truly beginning to hate the lady. Why wouldn't she bring food? Why wouldn't she turn off the evil lights? Why wouldn't she talk to her and tell her what was going on, at least so that Yuffie could eat her words up? She scowled blearily at the lady. Gods, she should just bite her. Maybe then she'd bring food. ...Food. Leviathan, she could eat a whole herd of chocobos right now. Or perhaps even the lady. Now that she thought about it, the lady really deserved to be eaten. She wouldn't bring food, and she was right there, muttering annoyingly to herself.
Instinctively, Yuffie reached out and grabbed the woman's arm. She froze, her eyes wide as she stared at Yuffie, transfixed. The dark-haired ninja opened her mouth, the other woman's arm slowly coming closer and closer... She could almost see her teeth ripping off some of the warm flesh...Tasting it. Her stomach rumbled approvingly.
'What the heck am I doing?!' Her brain had caught up with her instincts, and suddenly she realized what she was about to do.
Yuffie threw the lady's arm away from her mouth before she could change her mind. She held her head and closed her eyes. "What's wrong with me?!" she whimpered, trembling in confusion. "What the heck...I- No! Nonononono! Go away!"
Yuffie hardly even noticed as more white-clad figures came running into the room and pinned her down. It didn't even register when they dragged her off to a white white cell with no windows and a thick thick door. The freaking apocalypse could've happened, for all she knew, for the only thing going through her head were the confused words that – while looking back – she wouldn't even be able to remember, for they made no sense and complete sense at the same time, and she wished she could speak the words aloud, so she could eat them up, but all that came from her throat was a wispy, tortured moan.
And her consciousness only went down from there as she descended in a downward spiral that consisted of only herself and her sanity, where the room wasn't white and there was no pain.
Zack breathed a sigh of relief as they sank noiselessly into the under brush. Finally. It was over.
It had seemed like hours that they'd hung over the desert by their fingertips, and Zack's shoulders had been screaming for release when they'd first heard the Ropeway vehicle approaching from behind. Dread came soon after that, Zack being at an utter loss of what to do. Cloud was behind him, the tram was coming, and soon they'd both be pushed off of the cable and into the endless valley below.
Zack had craned his neck instinctively to attempt to understand what was going on, if only it was to watch their doom come, only to see that Cloud had actually turned around to face it. What the heck? Cold hard fear formed in the depths of his stomach, but then realization overtook his mind. The blonde was not going to meet his death head on, like Zack had first thought...
And indeed, when the tram came, Cloud then managed to pull himself up, biceps quivering, and lift his legs as high as they would go, so the lowest point of his body was then his cute little butt, (stop that, Zack!). When he had been just over the vehicle's flat roof, he had released his hold on the cable and landed in a crouch on the tram's top.
Zack had mimicked the maneuver shortly after, and the three of them rode the remainder of the distance to the ground uneventfully, managing to jump off safely when the vehicle was a reasonable distance above the ground, so they wouldn't be caught by its occupants, or any of the Ropeway attendants, for that matter.
They'd made fast into the forest, only to realize that the dark, linear silhouettes were not actually trees, but many buildings, all cramped together. Regardless, they kept going, and were rewarded when they found a sufficiently overgrown region of bushes to hide in.
Still panting slightly, Zack leaned against the log they'd gathered around after finding it buried in the brush. Cloud sat in a similar position next to him, his eyes closed. The sparse moonlight plus their shadowed hiding spot prevented him from seeing much of his friend's face, even with his Mako-eyes, and Zack internally lamented. Cloud always looked so cute when he was flushed...
...The hell? He was turning into such a pervert.
"I'm sorry," said a small voice in front of him. At first, Zack instinctively thought that the voice was responding to his thoughts, but banished the idea at once. (Why ever would would someone apologize for being a pervert, anyway?)
Denzel, his intelligence supplied, and a split second later he said, "What for?"
"...I'm...I'm afraid of heights," Denzel said, shame-faced. "I just couldn't...couldn't move. I could've made Cloud fall... I'm sorry."
Oh...so that was it. Zack had basically figured as much when Denzel refused to let go of Cloud, even when they were on the ground. So, the kid was scared as hell of heights... But why was he sorry about that? He repeated the question aloud.
"Because...Just because," Denzel muttered, obviously uncomfortable.
'He's ashamed because he was afraid. No...I think he's more ashamed that he showed his fear in front of Cloud and me,' Zack surmised.
Gently, he said, "Don't feel bad for being scared, Denz. I get scared all the time."
"But you and Cloud weren't scared!" Denzel burst out, and Zack then saw the boy's shadowed outline wrap its arms around its legs. It was at this time that Zack truly remembered how young Denzel was. He was just a kid still... a young kid, who had run headfirst into a situation that was much bigger then him. And now he was stuck. Surely, all he wanted now was to go home to the hodge-podge group of people that made up his sort of family, but he couldn't even do that.
"I'm scared of lots of things," a tenor voice – Cloud – said quietly. "Lots of things that most people aren't at all afraid of."
"Yeah, like women's underwear, ribbons, and high-heels," Zack said teasingly, unable to resist the golden opportunity to remind his friend of his little cross-dressing escapade.
Denzel shifted, then said, "What're you-?"
"And if it weren't so dark and I could see Cloud's face right now, I'm sure I would be very, very scared," Zack interrupted nervously when Cloud remained silent.
"Don't 'd blow our cover." Cloud pointed out, playing along, but Zack could sense the dark, 'I'm-going-to-murder-you-slowly-if-you-don't-stop-talking-about-that-incident' meaning behind the words.
Zack made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a whimper. "Well...I've always hated all that sneaking around...stuff, anyway. Best to go face-first into a fight, right?"
"Good thing you weren't a Turk," Cloud said, and Zack internally sighed in relief at his threat-free tone. Whew. He really felt like putting his foot in his mouth sometimes.
"A good thing indeed. I'd probably have too much fun with the explosives, anyway..." A scuffling sound. Zack then realized that their conversation had steadily been growing louder by the sentence, and by now they'd forgone any sense of whisper.
The trio froze simultaneously, a silent understanding. No need to ask pointless questions like 'what was that?' or 'did you hear that?'; they'd had experience in the area of stealth during their journey, for unfortunate reasons. Sometimes, the noisy creature would turn out to be a harmless rabbit, or a tiny, scared chocobo. Sometimes, the lurker would walk off before they could even get a look at it. And then there were times, of course, when the animal truly was something to be frightened of.
And so it was with this experience that they knew what to do, for they'd learned the hard way.
Zack squinted into the inky blackness towards the noise, but couldn't see a thing. He turned to Cloud, hoping that he'd had better luck, but the blonde shook his head in answer. Zack mentally sighed.
The hours drifted by, and still no sign of what had made the noise. The question had long ago escaped Zack's attention, though, and his mind was on other things. Such as, why was Genesis at the Gold Saucer? Didn't he have better things to do, like...he didn't know, finding the 'Gift of the Goddess', or whatever? Or perhaps take out his rage on mankind again? Anything? Had he planned to meet Zack at the Gold Saucer? But...no. That couldn't be it. He'd looked so surprised to see him. And he certainly hadn't acted like he wanted anything to do with him. But then...Why? Was he turning over a new leaf? Taking a vacation? Did he have anything to do with this whole fiasco with the NeoShinra? Was he involved? Had he been the one to call the Turks? But...that was ridiculous. No one called the Turks. They were simply everywhere. Zack couldn't blame that particular mishap on Genesis... But...maybe he really was just there. Maybe he really didn't have anything to do with it. Or maybe he did...
Ugh. His head hurt from all those questions. 'I'll only know for sure when I see him. There's no use speculating,' he told his brain, but his brain kept speculating away, of course. Stupid brain. Never did what he told it too... Wow. It sure had been a long day. Gaia...he was tired...
Next thing he knew, he was being jostled awake by fevered-looking Cloud.
"Get up, Zack," he whispered softly.
Blearily, Zack opened his eyes.
"Mornin'..." he said with a yawn. "Sorry about that... You know me; I'm good at going to sleep, but horrible at waking up."
He looked at his surrounding at once, out of habit. It seemed the place they'd dropped their tired bodies last night couldn't have been more ideal, considering. He was leaning against a log, which was situated in a large patch of overgrown, dry grass, measuring around four and a half feet tall in height. It was on the outskirts of town, Zack knew, because not far away he could see the back sides of fresh looking buildings and such. Some were tall and thin, others were short and stout, but they all had the same newly built, empty feeling to them. It seemed as though they'd been put their meticulously by some rich, young, eager fellow specializing in real estate, only to realize that not enough people actually lived in the town to populate all the buildings, and virtually no one had the type of money to buy even the most meager of the lot. As a result, the plot had been left – some of the buildings only half-finished – to rot.
Zack's mind took in the scene with a practiced efficiency. They were virtually invisible from any passersby, thanks to the grass, and yet they had an astonishingly good view of anyone in the vicinity. His eyes then trailed to Cloud's face...
"I've noticed," Cloud said, his eyes averting from Zack's gaze. (Was Zack imagining that amused smirk on the blonde's face?) "I've found out were we are."
"Where?" Zack asked, his senses slowly coming back to him.
"North Corel," Cloud said hastily. "I was looking out at the town, and I think I saw Barret walk by. I remember, now, that he said he was going back to Corel for awhile, but I guess it just slipped my mind..."
"That's great!" Zack exclaimed. "But...isn't it likely that he's being watched? I mean, the Turks are sure to guard anywhere we might go, yeah...?"
"Yeah, I know." Zack could hear the hiss of frustration in his friend's voice, though whether it was directed at him or just the thought that Barret was being watched was beyond him. He had enough trouble keeping up with Cloud's emotionally detached, vague words and moody expressions as it was, and he had no hopes that he'd ever truly understand the blonde, no matter how long they lived.
Perhaps that was what attracted him to Cloud in the first place. Even before the kid had lost his home, his mother, his very self, he'd always radiated a sort of disquieting, mysterious aura. Insecurities and innocence aside, he had to admit, Cloud had always been one to over-think things and struggle with inner-turmoil that shouldn't have been there.
"We can't talk to Barret," Cloud was saying, and the tone of his voice reminded Zack that the blonde was trying to convince himself more than anything. "It would be too dangerous. I know that. We can't even leave a note. It's just that..."
"...Denzel?" Zack asked when Cloud's sentence trailed off into silence. It seems he'd been doing that a lot lately...
"...Yeah. I mean, Tifa and Marlene and...well, everyone's probably so worried. I'm sure they know that he's with us, but still..."
Zack merely hummed in agreement, though internally his mind was reeling. 'The way he talks about them... They're his family. They truly are, in a way. I'm just so happy that he finally found people that make him feel secure like that. After his ma died, I thought he would never recover.'
Zack tilted his head musingly. "They're your family, aren't they?" he asked aloud, though of course he already knew the answer. "Marlene, Denzel, Tifa... Everyone, really. All of AVALANCHE."
Cloud didn't respond, but Zack wasn't discouraged. He knew by the relaxed, contemplating gaze he was receiving that he wasn't crossing the invisible line that seemed to have grown around Cloud these past years.
He continued with a chuckle. "Ha...Yeah. I can just imagine it. Yuffie's your annoying little sister. Cid's some uncouth uncle. Barret's like a cousin that loves to tease and poke fun at you. Reeve is that geeky distant relative that everyone always talks about as a standard that all the kids needs to set themselves to. And...hm. I'd say Red is the pet, but I'm pretty sure he'd kill me for that, and I'm sure you think of him more as like, a grandfather, right? A cool one, though."
Cloud was smiling softly now, and Zack grinned, his expression goofy, and continued the analogy.
"Vincent's like a...father? Nah... You guys seem closer than that. An older brother, maybe? Though he's old enough to be, like, your great-great-great grandfather, or something..."
"He's not that old," Cloud said with a snort, though he was smiling. "And I might tell everyone what you said about them, so be careful..."
"Right. Stick to the brother thing, then," Zack added hastily. He wasn't sure if Vincent was one of those people sensitive about his age, (it didn't seem like it, but who knew what was going through that guy's head half the time?), but he wasn't going to take his chances. He smiled at Cloud's eye roll, and continued. "Tifa is...well. I don't know. Who is Tifa to you?"
Cloud blinked, then said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, "She's like an older sister." And Zack knew not to press it. Obviously, Tifa was completely infatuated with Cloud, whether she admitted to it or not. But it didn't seem like Cloud felt the same way...
"Hm. The older sister that kicks the ass of anyone who hurts her little Cloudy-boy, am I right?" Zack said with a grin. Of course, he knew that Cloud was perfectly capable of 'kicking ass', and that he didn't really need Tifa to go all guard dog on him, but the picture was one too funny not to voice aloud.
Cloud laughed at this, and Zack joined in. The moment was over quickly, though, and left an empty feeling in his stomach.
"But...you left someone out," Cloud said quietly, and Zack was surprised at his tone. It seemed almost...shy. He hadn't heard Cloud talk like that to him since...well, since forever.
"Huh? Really? You mean Marlene? Well, her dad's Barret, obviously. So...that would make her a cousin once removed, or something. Or did you mean Denzel? Sorry. I thought for sure you'd guess it; Denzel is totally your kid. That you had out of wedlock. At..." Zack counted backwards on his fingers, then gave up with a sigh. He was never good at quick math. "At some very young, improper age. M'not sure who the mommy is, though. Any suggestions?"
Cloud stared at him a moment, then shook his head, though he was unable to hold back an amused smirk. "I wasn't talking about them..."
"Not talking about them? Then who, Spike? You have a real illegitimate kid you haven't told me about?"
Cloud didn't even dignify that comment with an answer. Instead, he quirked his eyebrow questioningly, waiting for Zack to figure it out himself. (Did Cloud's face always have that pink tinge, or was he imagining things again?)
"...Me?" Zack guessed, all traces of teasing wiped from his face. His eyes looked distant for a moment before he said, thinking quickly, "I'm the new family dog, yeah?"
It took a moment before Cloud burst out laughing. The sound was musical and rare, and Zack wished he could capture it and hold it in his memory forever. It was magical, the change in him. Suddenly, there was no trace of the trauma that was obviously plaguing him so severely these days. Once again, Zack got a small glimpse of what Cloud should've been like at his age, instead of someone who had obviously suffered a great trauma (or several) and couldn't get over it...
Despite his joy at Cloud's evident amusement, though, Zack couldn't squash the small feeling of regret. The feeling that told him he should've said something different...
Cloud's laughing fit was over quickly, replaced by a crooked smile. "The new dog, huh?"
Zack nodded seriously. "Uh huh."
"...So. If you really were a dog-?"
"No no no... I am a dog, remember?"
"...That's usually considered insulting."
"Hm?"
"Well...you know. If I were mad at you, I could call you a 'stupid Gongagan dog', or something..."
"Yeah. And I could call you a 'moody, angst-filled chocobo', but I don't."
"..."
"Aw...C'mon, Cloud. I was just kidding!"
"...You'd better not ever call me that."
"Yeah yeah yeah... You have all this manly pride, and whatnot... I get it. Anyway, since when've I been usual, yeah?"
"...I know. Just thought I'd point that out..."
"Hmph. So...what were you gonna ask again?"
"It's...Uh. Not really important."
"Nah...C'mon! Don't leave me hanging!"
"Never mind," Cloud grumbled insistently. A brief moment of silence passed. "Hm... Hey, where's...?" he muttered suddenly. Cloud's eyes widened slightly and he started scanning the vicinity.
"Yeah...where is Denzel?" Zack asked, as though reading Cloud's mind. He mirrored Cloud's actions, only to discover nothing. Where'd the kid gone this time?
Cloud looked around, saying, "He's around here somewhere. Last time I saw him he was sleeping in the grass over there..." Cloud pointed a gloved finger at a spot a few yards away. "He's a restless sleeper..."
Zack was already crawling in the direction that Cloud pointed, trying not to rustle the grass around him. He couldn't stand up, as he was taller then the grass and someone would surely see him. But the same didn't apply to Denzel, as he was only around five feet tall, so he'd be able to run, while Zack and Cloud crawled. They were at a disadvantage when it came to running, but as for strength and-
'Why'd I even think of that?' Zack wondered distractedly. 'It's not like the kids my enemy.'
And yet, while he thought this, he couldn't suppress the sick feeling in his stomach that only grew when there was no sign of Denzel anywhere in the area. No. Denzel wasn't his enemy. But what if he'd been caught by one?They'd be screwed. Seriously.
"Maybe he just went into town?" Cloud suggested lamely, his eyes frantic.
"I don't think he'd actually do that...I mean, he's not stupid..." Zack trailed off, the panic and realness of the situation setting in. While he and Cloud had been talking and laughing so carelessly, Denzel had gone missing in a town no doubt swarming with Turks. They should've been more cautious...
"What can we do?" Cloud whispered, stressed. They were a few feet from where the grass ended and the town began. They'd found no trace of the boy in the weeds, and they were running out of options.
Zack clenched his jaw, trying to organize his thoughts. They could either a) go out into town to look for him and risk the huge probability of being caught by the Turks, or b) wait for Denzel to possibly return from the camouflage that the foliage provided. There was probably a very slim chance of Denzel actually showing up, (since when had Zack been gotten so pessimistic? Since the war, he reminded himself. Since...that happened.) but it was a whole lot safer.
...Damn it. There was truly only one option, wasn't there? But then again...
"Hey, Cloud," Zack said, turning to his friend. "I'll go look for him, alright? You wait here. That way, if Denzel does turn out to just have walked off, and he comes back, you'll be here. And if I get caught, then only one of us gets caught and-"
Cloud's eyebrows creased together, his face looking scandalized. "No. You're the one the Turks are looking for. It'd make more sense for me to go in alone, and for you to wait here."
Hmph. Figures they'd fight over who got the more dangerous job. Zack huffed indignantly. He couldn't argue with Cloud's infallible logic, but he couldn't not go, either. He'd been a First Class SOLDIER, for crying out loud. Danger and bravery was in his blood. There was no way he'd be able to wait around for Cloud to come back like some scared child.
Cloud must have seen the displeasure on Zack's face, because he scowled right back, looking somewhat haughty. "Come on, Zack..." 'You know I'm right,' Zack imagined him thinking. 'Please don't argue.' "We need to find-"
"Fine," Zack said grumpily. "If you're so determined, why don't we both go? We'll be more protected that way, anyway..."
"What would be the point of that?" Cloud hissed, his mouth pursed, his chin raised in the epitome of defiance. If Zack hadn't been so annoyed, he probably would have found the sight rather...endearing.
"Are you going to stop me?" Zack challenged. "Fine. You go ahead into the town 'alone'. But I'll be right behind ya, just so you know."
"..."
Cloud looked pissed. If he were being honest with himself, Zack would have to admit that he felt rather bad for being so rude to him, but this was a matter that he couldn't not argue about. Denzel was important to them both, and there was no way that he was letting Cloud go in there alone. Legendary fighter he might be, but in Zack's eyes, he'd always be that scared teenager pinned to the table, screaming for someone to help him, please, just make it stop, and Zack would pound on the glass and scream just as loud, but he'd never been able to do anything, never been able to protect him and the needles and blood-
"Fine," Cloud grumbled irritably, then he stood up, brushed himself off, and stalked into town without another word.
Zack shook the thoughts from his head. 'No,' he thought firmly. 'I won't let Hojo win. I won't think about that ever again. It's over now. No use in thinking about the past...'
They kept to the shadows as much as possible. It was rather early in the morning, which gave them the temporary advantage of limited visibility, but it would soon be lost to the rising sun. They would have to hurry in order to even have a chance.
"I'mma kill that kid when we find him," Cloud muttered morbidly under his breath. Zack mentally smiled.
Soon, they were in an entirely different section of town. The failed real-estate investment was behind them as they searched frantically down every dirty alleyway, every possible crevice. The streets were dirtier here. The houses were shabbier. Occasionally, there was an out-of-place fountain, or a young tree starting to grow, but other then that the place remained eerily empty and and run-down. Twice, they saw person or two sluggishly delivering mail, or religiously tending their measly garden, but still, it seemed so...lifeless. Of course, most people were in bed at this hour, but...
No one saw them. They were virtually invisible in the dark.
They didn't know how long they searched. They searched until the sun was up, shooting its harsh rays into the shadows and causing the said shadows' retreat. People were milling around now. Some of them in suits that didn't quite fit in the environment. Stuffy, black suits... Soon, their only refuge was alleyways, where the buildings to the sides of them were sometimes too tall to allow the sun to reach its floor. They were forced to stay there. They'd run out of time. Their fate was out of their hands and now depended on whether or not the Turks would look for them there. Best case scenario, they would stay until nightfall and search again.
They wouldn't stop searching for Denzel. Not until they knew what happened to him. Perhaps it was their military training ("No man left behind"), or perhaps it was simply the hero complex they both seemed to harbor. Either way, they were determined.
They'd long forgone talking. Besides a few deliberate whispers, they'd hardly said a word to each other since entering the town. Cloud was still rather miffed at Zack for his insistence, and Zack was – for now - content with the silence. But when they – finally, after hours and hours, and losing hope – saw the scene before them, they couldn't help but yell, losing all senses of stealth and indiscretion.
"DENZEL!"
For there he was. On the opposite edge of town, at twilight, they'd finally found him. Hours of searching and no trace. And then they turn the corner and there he was, in plain sight. Both of their minds were too caught up in their excitement to realize the strangeness (wrong, this is wrong) of it all.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"We looked everywhere!"
"It's been hours!"
But their exaltation at finding the poor boy at last was short-lived, for when they took in the surroundings, both men suddenly found their vocal cords tighten and their throats dry.
"...Tseng."
Denzel was staring mournfully at the ground, refusing to meet anyone's eye. His rich brown hair was dusty, and it covered his eyes to cast a shadow over his face. Two Turks stood behind him, holding the area between his shoulder and his elbow. He looked the epitome of misery and shame.
Damn it. What a stupid mistake. Zack had had better training than to blow their cover like that. What had he been thinking...?
"Zack." The man who spoke was Wutain, with long black hair that reached past his shoulders. His face was serious as he spoke, and Zack detected a hint of regret in his perpetually stoic voice. But perhaps that was just wishful thinking. "We've been looking for you."
"Really?" Zack said, immediately turning defensive. "Gee, I hadn't noticed." He tried to keep the resentment out of his voice, but it was difficult, and he knew he hadn't succeeded by the slight twitch of the cheek from Tseng.
"We ask that you come with us," Tseng said slowly, carefully, as though trying to reason with a wild animal.
"Ha! Fat chance!" Zack spat, all attempt at pleasantries aside.
"That's regrettable. I suppose we'll have to make you, then." Despite the threatening words, Tseng's tone remained relatively monotoned. His expression never wavered from its blankness.
Zack couldn't help it. He let out a low bark of laughter. "Seriously?! You think you and your little band of Turks can take me 'n Cloud?! What are you, delusional?!"
And truly, it was delusional. Cloud could take down Sephiroth. Cloud could take down anyone. And he'd proved that. Multiple times. As had Zack Fair, former frickin' SOLDIER First Class. He'd taken out Sephiroth, too, and an army for Shiva's sake! Were they insane to think that they could take them down with a couple of Turks (all of them except Tseng were newbies, too, by the looks of them)?!
"Hardly," Tseng said. There it was. Zack caught that tinge of incredulity in his voice that seemed to say, 'Zack, do you seriously think I'd be that idiotic and reckless?' Aha! There was the Tseng he used to know.
Too bad it came at the wrong time. Zack would have much preferred the robot Tseng in this situation. Because then – at least – he wouldn't feel so crushed when Tseng failed him. Again.
"Here is the deal I propose: you come quietly with us," (Zack scoffed at this, and Cloud made a throaty hiss of his own), "or we kill young Denzel here. It's your choice."
Zack froze. Of course... Well, he wasn't surprised. Still, it was one thing to know subconsciously, and a whole other thing to hear it spoken aloud...
"If you did that," Cloud hissed. "We would kill you. All of you."
"This so-called 'Neo-Shinra', too," Zack added. "Why would you risk that?"
"And it would all be worth it, then? Killing all of us... You wouldn't feel like you had to run anymore." Tseng paused. "All you have to do is let this boy die." And as if to emphasize the point, Tseng brought a gun to Denzel's head.
More than anything, Zack felt like he should hate Tseng right now. He would do it, he knew; Tseng would kill Denzel. And as they spent more and more time together, Zack had really harbored a soft spot for the little guy. He looked so defenseless, so scared, so...
Guilty.
And he tried (so hard) to hate the Turk now holding the gun to a child's head. But... he just couldn't. Oh, he was angry... but somehow, Zack thought with resentment, even if Tseng did horrible things, he'd never be able to hate him. Because he was doing his job, and how many times had Zack killed when he was doing his job? (Too many times to count, don't think about them, don't think about their faces don'tthinkaboutit...). And as naive as he knew it was, Zack still considered him a... a friend. The first close friend he'd ever had. (Pathetic, totally pathetic, you sentimental idiot.)
Even so...Tseng was threatening him. Tseng had chased him all the way from Midgar, chased him from a happy, content, life, (when finally things had been okay after years and years of it being not-okay...) and now he was holding his little buddy at gunpoint.
He didn't have to hate him to know that, yeah, the guy would so pay for this.
...
...
But as for the immediate situation, he really had no choice in the matter. What could he do? He couldn't surrender... but what other choice did he have?
"Please..." Zack loathed the pleading lilt his voice had taken on, but he had to delay as much as possible. They had to think of something. He caught Cloud's eye as subtly as possible. 'Stall'. He mentally willed Cloud to understand him. The blonde's tiny nod was all he needed. "Please...Just tell me why. Please, Tseng. We used to be 're still friends...Or – at least – I thought we were. Please...tell me why you're chasing me. Tell me what I've done wrong."
He could see Tseng's resolve waver. See the conflict going on behind those deep brown other Turks had spoken so far, though Zack hadn't really expected them to. Tseng was in charge here. Finally, he heard Tseng sigh and say, "I'm not entirely sure, but I believe it has something to do with this...sickness that's been going around."
"Sickness? What're you-?"
"You have something to do with it... You can help us stop-" He choked on the rest of his sentence, then said abruptly, with a clinical ferocity, "But I'm afraid that's all I can say. Now, if you will, come with-"
It happened fast. One second, Tseng was gesturing towards the helicopter parked a few yards away, and the next second, he was white-faced and struggling to stand, a pool of scarlet slowly growing on his left bicep. A click. A rustle. The two Turks holding Denzel were sprawled on the ground, sporting wounds of their own. Zack searched frantically for their attacker. To his left, a flash of scarlet caught his eye. And then a voice – all too familiar – says softly, somehow dreamy and ferocious and dark all at the same time, "Gotcha."
"Gen-" but a throaty cry of pain escaped Tseng's lips after, so his words were cut cringed. Tseng's right hand, grasping a gun a mere moment before, now sported an impressive bullet hole, the Turk's gun falling from his hand at once. Tseng grasped his injured hand to his body for a moment, then fell to the ground in a heap.
There's a moment of silence where all that is heard in Zack's ear is his pounding heartbeat and the struggling pants of the fallen Turks before the voice from before says – sharper this time - "Are you really that dim, imbecile? Run."
No need to tell him twice. Zack rushed to Denzel, who was breathing heavily with wide eyes, seized his arm, hauled him up, and dragged him as gently as he could towards the opposite direction. Cloud was ahead of him, and so he followed.
He wasn't sure how long they ran. Perhaps it was hours. Perhaps it was days. All he knew was that they had to get out of North Corel. Zack didn't know if the Turks were following. He never looked back.
When they stopped, finally, it was dark outside. Whether it was dawn or dusk, he didn't know. And honestly, he couldn't say that he pondered it much. He was more focused on collapsing and sleeping and dying, because surely he would, based on the stitch in his side. Denzel had fallen down in exhaustion miles back, and Zack had carried him to this point. But there was no way he could go any farther without a rest, and thankfully, Cloud seemed to share those very sentiments.
They didn't bother talking. They both fell in a blissful sleep.
"Fucking ass holes! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
But as much as Cid hollered, he hadn't seen one person since he'd woken up a few hours ago.
White. That's all he saw when he opened his eyes. White halls, white doors, white floor...everything was so damn white. It was maddening. Almost as maddening as the complete solitude he was in. He hadn't seen a soul. Not even Yuffie or Cissnei...they could be anywhere right now! And so he yelled and cursed the empty and lifeless white white halls until his throat was sore, but even then he continued.
'I hafta find a way out,' Cid thought irritably as he plopped down in his cell, too tired to continue screaming at the moment. 'The hell is this place, anyway?'
He was in a cell, he knew that much. The door to the cell was high-tech, the kind that opened with a whoosh at the touch of a button. Convenient things, those doors. He had them on his airship. Too bad the button was on the other side of the door, and out of Cid's reach. From what he could see of the hallway outside, it was lined with rooms like his, excluding the last door he could see to his left, which had double doors and fogged up glass. 'Any place that has this many holding cells can't be up to anything good', Cid mused darkly. 'But where in the hell am I?'
Just as the thoughts took conscious hold in his brain, a high keening scream shattered the quiet, followed by banging and a the sound of people rushing about. Suddenly, the door on the opposite end of the hallway to his left slid open with a 'shhh'-ing noise, and a group of people came into view.
The first thing that registered in Cid's mind was that Yuffie – a very awake Yuffie, he realized with a jolt of happiness – was being restrained by half a dozen white-coated people, three of them carrying syringes, the others holding onto the ninja's arm. The second thing he noticed was that Yuffie was thrashing around wildly, and that she looked even worse than when he last saw her. Her eyes were bloodshot and were rolling in their sockets. She was foaming at the mouth, her lips chapped and cracking. She was paler than Cid had ever seen her, and she sported several long scratches around her face that hadn't been there before. The sight caused Cid's heart to clench. What had they done to her?
Meanwhile, one of the doctors managed to stab Yuffie with the syringe. She fell limp in their arms, and they dragged her over to the cell directly opposite Cid's, pushed the button to open the door, and shoved her inside. With their backs turned, Cid noticed that the doctors had words printed in clean black letters on the back of their coats. They said:
TYNOMA'S INSTITUTE OF HUMAN RESEARCH AND CULTURAL DEVELOPMENT.
Cid's thought froze. Where had he heard that name before...? He could've sworn...
And as if on cue, his mind recalled a woman with wavy auburn hair and intelligent caramel eyes as a shadowy look came over her face...
"TIRC," Cissnei had said. "Tynoma's Institute of Human Research and Cultural Development. It's where all the Turks go when they start to question Shinra's ways…when they stop being loyal to the utmost degree. It's where they take us down, and it's why Shinra is what it is today."
Oh. Shit.
Zack didn't trust Genesis. Nope. Not one bit. The indecisive, melodramatic, flippy-haired jerk had nearly killed him. Several times. Not to mention what he did to Angeal...
No. That really wasn't worth mentioning, because even with as much closure as he could ever possibly have about Angeal's death, he knew he'd never entirely be rid of the guilt hanging like an oppressive storm cloud at the back of his consciousness. He knew it was there; he knew it may or may not mean inconvenience. But he chose to ignore it in favor of pretending that it wasn't. As far as he knew, this technique was working quite well so far.
And he did not need some redheaded asshole (well, one of the redheaded assholes...), to screw it all up for him again.
Which returns to the point: Zack didn't trust Genesis.
But he needed him. This was a fact that he grudgingly admitted to himself as he sat cross-legged in front of the sleeping form of said bane of his existence. The change – or lack of change – of the man was rather astounding. Not a single wrinkle marred his delicate, pale features. Not even a bags under the eyes that everyone got when they lacked sleep or were stressed. Nothing at all to show that the guy had probably been in the wilderness for days after spending what may have been years in the Gold Saucer Battle Arena, which – while tacky – was a place that was not for those with weak minds, bodies, or stomachs.
Zack unconsciously reached up to feel his own face. His fingertips registered cuts, scrapes, and aforementioned puffy bruises under his eyes. 'That's so not fair,' Zack thought numbly, with just a little bit of contempt. 'Stupid asshole doesn't even have a scar, while I-'
"May I ask why you are staring at me, Zack Fair?"
Zack nearly jumped out of his skin as the silky voice rang through his ears. So...he hadn't been paying enough attention. Again.
Glaring at the now-awake face of Genesis Rhapsados, Zack reached for, found, and gripped the Buster sword as he said, "What are you doing here?"
Genesis smiled one of his familiar, patronizing smirks that seemed to say, 'don't bother the very intelligent adults who know so much more than you, you stupid, insolent child'.
Or – at least – that's what it seemed to say to Zack.
"You know very well how I'm here, Zack Fair. The Turks were going to take you away, but I intervened. I believe you owe me your life now."
Another smirk. That self-righteous glint in the eyes. Zack suddenly longed to smash that look off his face. Instead, he took a deep breath, and said evenly, "I know what you did. I'm not sure why, but I am grateful for that. What I want to know is...what are you doing here? What were you doing at the Gold Saucer? Where have you been all this time?"
The redhead's smirk faltered slightly. "All in due time. I will answer those questions later. Meanwhile, however, I do believe there is a more important question to be asked."
"Really?" Zack said, honestly surprised. What was he getting at? "What are you-?"
"How are you alive?"
Oh... Right. That. Zack shifted uneasily as he thought over what to say. On the one hand, there was the fact that he trusted Genesis about as much as he trusted a bloodthirsty Nibel wolf in the middle of mating season while armed with nothing but a rusty fork and left-over chocobo greens (long story); that is to say, not at all. His first instinct was to make something up, of course, but what would that really do? Which brought him to the other hand: the man had put himself in harm's way to save Zack. And – while that didn't make up for all the times that he'd tried to kill him – that fact alone was starting to sway him. Of course, he could've had ulterior motives. Oh, most definitely! But still... what could he say? He didn't have enough information. What did Genesis know? What didn't he?
A rustling sound coming from behind. Zack whirled around, his first thought being that the Turks had caught up with them. To his relief, however, he was met only with the sight of Cloud standing up. He smiled automatically at the blonde, happy to see that he was awake. He may need his help if Genesis proved to be... untrustworthy. And he deserved to know hear what was going on first-hand.
Zack glanced over at the gun that Genesis had used to save his life. It had been discarded in the man's exhaustion, it appeared, and was lying innocently over by Denzel's resting form. He frowned and tightened his grip on the Buster sword before saying with precision, "I'm the one with the weapon here, Genesis. And you're outnumbered three to one. I think I'll be asking the questions."
Genesis' expression could only be described as a glower. After a brief moment, though, he raised his chin and snorted lightly. "Three to one, you say?" he said rhetorically, looking over at Denzel. But he didn't question his involvement any further. Why would he? After all, Genesis had been fighting since he was much younger than Denzel...
Cloud was standing beside him now, staring down at Genesis with what looked like polite curiosity. "You're Genesis Rhapsodos?" Cloud asked quietly. "I don't believe we've met."
"No, I don't believe you've met me," Genesis said with a knowing smirk.
Cloud quirked his head slightly. "I don't understand."
"We met Genesis a few times while we were...while we..." Zack struggled for an adequate word to describe their situation at that time, then gave up, simply saying "Well, you wouldn't remember. You weren't conscious."
"Oh. Right." Understanding. Cloud's eyes flickered downward. No... that wasn't right. Cloud wasn't supposed to be sad...
"Anyway, that's not the point," Zack said quickly, his eyes still trained on his friend's face.
"Oh? What is the point?" Genesis asked tauntingly, that infernal, condescending smirk back in place.
"The point," Zack pointed his sword towards Genesis' face, "Is that I've beaten you too many times to count, and I'll do it again, too. So... you'd better listen real close."
Genesis' smile remained, but Zack vaguely noticed the subtle difference in his face. That tiny falter in the redhead's eyes was all Zack needed.
"Now, are you going to answer my questions?" Zack said, eyes glinting. Genesis scowled angrily, but made no other movement to disagree his proposal.
"Alright, then," Zack said, the authoritative edge still in his voice. He eyed the other man as he began pacing back-and-forth, making sure to keep his sword in reach. Genesis was still leaning primly against a nearby tree, his mouth set in a thin line, his otherworldly green eyes never leaving Zack's. Unnerving. Zack searched his senses for the blonde's reassuring presence. Cloud was just out of his line of sight, watching the exchange quietly. Deep breath. "Let's start from when I last saw you. Where'd you go from there?"
At first, Genesis looked as though he would not answer, but a moment later, he sighed, rolled his eyes, and said lazily, "So this is the gratitude I get for saving your life? You always were impolite." Zack heard Cloud choke slightly at this, for unknown reasons. No time to think of that... Genesis was still talking. "But... very well. I'll humor you. But first, allow me to get my facts straight. If I am remembering correctly, the last time we interacted was around five or six years ago, in Banora. Am I correct?"
Zack nodded, a sense of excitement growing in his stomach, in spite of himself. At last. He was finally (finally) getting answers.
Genesis heaved another dramatic sigh. "Alright, then. I will share with you my story. But be forewarned: it is neither short, nor happy, and to be honest, I doubt you'll really want to know the truth once it's over."
'Great,' Zack thought with a roll of his eyes. 'He's just as over-dramatic as I remember.' Nevertheless, he settled himself down into a comfortable position, though he kept his grip firmly on the Buster Sword, just in case.
(1) For those of you who haven't played Crisis Core, and just in case I haven't already mentioned this: Angeal Hewley was a First Class SOLDIER, along with Genesis and Sephiroth. He grew up in Banora, and was best friends with Genesis when they were young. Together, they both joined SOLDIER. He was the very first wielder of the Buster Sword, which he later passed on to Zack, who he was mentoring. It's a very long and complicated story, but basically, Angeal starts to deteriorate and grows a wing due to experiments and stuff that were performed on him while he was still in fetal stage (I know, totally jacked up). Throughout the end of his life, he becomes more and more convinced that he is a monster, and he forces Zack to fight him, (it's in this fight that Zack gets his cross-shaped scar on his cheek). Before he dies, he passes on the Buster Sword to Zack, with his thanks that Zack freed him from his torment. Zack is emotionally scarred for life, but he copes with it in his own way. He delivers Angeal's trademarked speech (" Embrace your dreams. If you want to be a hero you need to have dreams... and honor") to a league of new SOLDIER troops. He also changes his hair. Yes, Zack copes in his own, special way. -pats Zack's head-
(2) Lazard was the director of SOLDIER. Rumor has it, he's also Rufus's illegitimate brother. (OMG SOAP OPERA DRAMA!!!)
(3) Alrighty, for those of you who haven't played Crisis Core: the main antagonist in CC is Genesis. At the very beginning of the game, you find out that Genesis, a first class SOLDIER, has gone AWOL and taken some 3rd class SOLDIERS with him. It's later revealed that Genesis and Angeal, Zack's mentor, were part of something called Project G (G standing for Gillian, Angeal's mother), under the direction of a Shinra scientist called Hollander. Due to the experiments, Genesis sprouts one black wing from his shoulder. Genesis sort of pops in and out of the scenes, but every time you see him, he looks more and more colorless. Eventually, his hair turns completely white, and his face and eyes lose all their color. There are also some sores on his face that imply that Genesis is actually falling apart. Genesis calls it degeneration, and recruits Hollander to try and stop it. Eventually, Zack tells Genesis that he's going down the wrong path, and whatever he's trying to do to stop the process isn't helping, to which Genesis replies that he's going to take the whole world with him. During the Nibelheim mission, Genesis was actually in the reactor at a certain point before Sephiroth goes crazy. He's the one who tells Sephiroth what Jenova is, and that Sephiroth's nothing but a monster. Anyway, I recommend you wiki it, cuz I'm not the best at explaining.
For those of you who haven't played Dirge of Cerberus, this is rather essential for the next chapter in the story, so let me explain: Deepground is a section of Shinra that was created by the former president, Rufus' father. His goal was to create an elite, private army. Aptly named, Deepground was located under the Shinra building, and its existence was kept top secret (for example, Rufus didn't even know about it). In Deepground itself, there were a group of elite soldiers, called Tsviets. The Tsviets were made up primarily of five people: Azul the Cerulean, Rosso the Crimson, Shelke the Transparent, Nero the Sable, and Weiss (pronounced exactly like the word 'vice') the Immaculate. The premise of the game is that Deepground is suddenly attacking Kalm for no apparent reason. In fact, it's later learned that they were attacking many places around the planet, taking captive those who hadn't been infected with Geostigma, and killing those who had. Turns out, they're trying to summon a great WEAPON that will destroy the world by trying to make the planet think that the end is near, (when the end of the world comes, the planet will summon the WEAPON Omega to take all life from the planet). It's all very complex, but essentially, Vincent ends up defeating Omega and killing all the members of the Tsviets, (except Shelke, she turns out to be a good guy), thereby stopping Omega from killing everyone. It's presumed that Weiss is dead, until the secret ending, where it shows Genesis picking up Weiss and walking away while saying that 'it's not yet time to sleep, they still have much work to do'.
So, there's your Dirge of Cerberus 101. There's a LOT more to the story, but I can't take up any more room, so I suggest you wikipedia it. :)
I understand that there are a lot of characters in this story that aren't from the original game. I apologize for any confusion regarding this. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.
I'm also extremely sorry that this took so long to complete. I thank you for your patience, and for sticking with me. I will NEVER let it go this long without an update again, okay? Promise I'll make it up to you guys. :) Next chapter should take around two weeks, and will revolve around Genesis' story. I promise you that his story DOES have to do with the overall plot. In fact, it should be a bit of a revelation chapter (you may be able to guess, if you look at Genesis' words to Zack VERY CAREFULLY. I doubt it, though. It's kinda vague). :) Also, I'm sorry there hasn't really been much ZackxCloud. I'm taking this relationship really slow, because I'm trying to make it realistic. I know it can be frustrating, but I'm doing the best I can with the characters I have to work with. It will all come together eventually, I promise.
P.S. If anyone can catch the Saturday Night Live reference, (couldn't resist, the description was just priceless, and once I thought of it I couldn't make anything else up), I'll dedicate next chapter to you. :) Hint: It's from the most reason one with JT.
Love you guys bunches. Thanks again for taking the time to read my story. I hope you guys are enjoying it. :)
Review, or I'll sic crazy!Genesis on you. And once that happens... well, it was nice knowing you. :)
-b9iNe