A/N: None of my writing is beta'd, so there's not a mistake I don't cherish, especially because this was all written on a damned iPhone. Anyway...I've the misfortune of not owning FFVII. But I am fortunate enough to own Ellone and this delicious bottle of cranberry wine.
X Hollander X
"Your body has been under a lot of stress," I confirmed, "the degradation process has started, but it's very unlike Genesis' beginning."
Angeal did not seem interested in listening to my comparisons, instead was flexing the alabaster wing over and over. He seemed intrigued, I was sure he was going over how flight would work out with a single wing. I continued checking him over, fixating on his new and feathered appendage. It was beautiful and the musculature had formed perfectly below the skin. The only thing staining these immaculate feathers was the blood that had spread forth as the wing thrust itself from Angeal's shoulder.
"Where is Genesis?" The SOLDIER asked, spanning his wing to its fullest to examine it further. "When were you planning on storming HQ?"
I winced and glanced away from Angeal, "when my army is complete."
"Your army?"
"Of Genesis clones," I supplied, "I don't know when exactly, Genesis is leading that part of our operation."
I grunted when Angeal took a rough hold of my arm, leading me out the front door or my home. He switched his grip and tightened his hold immensely on my middle with his forearm of stone. The grip hurt as we were lifted from the ground with jerky motions of Angeal's wing. I dug my fingers into the arm securing me and could barely contain the whimper that bubbled up.
"Do you know where Genesis went?"
"...to Banora," I admitted, "he said there was unfinished business there."
Never mind that Banora was a quiet town that had an abandoned science facility. I could continue my studies there and find a cure for both of my failed subjects' degradation. That's where I'd wanted to move my studies to after the child had grown old enough to need outside contact.
I hoped Genesis was ready and Ellone was near the time of birth.
X Gillian X
The sun had gone down and I'd sent Ellone into the guest room, reminding her that I'd be there all night if she needed me. The dishes were clean after we'd had supper together and I got to touch her swollen belly. My grandson's little hands and feet responding to my touch reminded me so much of the joy that babies brought. I'd never expected Angeal to connect with someone so deeply with his shy personality, but he'd met his match.
Guilt rolled around in my mind at the memories that accompanied the nice ones - remembering the injections. Angeal had only been a tiny embryo when he was exposed to alien cells and that was going to kill him. Unless Hollander's theory was true.
My grandson's cells could stop his father's body from crumbling away. That little baby was a small miracle, but it was painful to think about all the tests and trials that would accompany him.
I decided not to dwell on the matter for long and settled comfortably into my recliner. My son would find a way and that's all I needed to know.
X Ellone X
When the sun shone through the window, I finally opened my eyes. My skin soaked in the rays and I could smell something sweet from the kitchen, eliciting a snarl from my belly. When I looked down at it, I felt my brows shoot halfway up my forehead. My belly was huge and I lifted my shirt, nearly cringing at the sight. Deep and wide red slashes ran all around my once-toned middle and across my sides, my belly button pressing outward like a little outie now. Pain was the second feeling I experienced that morning as I realized how much my skin hurt and how engorged my breasts suddenly felt.
"Gillian?" I called out, "can you run me another oatmeal bath later?"
Getting out of bed was difficult now, but the sizzle of something in a skillet gave the motivation I needed. Once I was on my feet and my nightdress was covering all of me, I waddled out into the kitchen.
Gillian smiled kindly at me and tilted her head toward the table.
"Sit down, El," she suggested, "I'll bring you a cup for tea and I'll bring you your breakfast when it's done."
"Thank you," I expressed fondly, accepting the small green cup with matching plate. The ceramic kettle was settled on a hot pad in the center of the table and I poured myself a glass, dripping a healthy dollop of honey into it.
Gillian dropped off a moderately sized plate that held eggs, ham, cubed potatoes, and two small blueberry pancakes. She seemed to understand that my appetite would be raging at this stage in the game. A repeated thank you fell from my lips just before digging into the plate before me, an involuntary moan in the back of my throat at the taste.
The plate was clear before long and I leaned back in my seat, rubbing small circles into the sides of my belly. The lack of Genesis had me worried, but I was hoping he'd come across my husband and met his fate too. The lack of equipment to monitor my son left me anxious, but Gillian had assured me that the body knows what it's doing.
"I'll go draw your bath," Gillian said as she took my dishes and deposited them in the sink, "with extra oatmeal. Your belly is much bigger than it was yesterday."
The lump in my throat caught me by surprise and I tried immediately to squash the hormonal thoughts racing around. My mother in law was not calling me fat, but noting the very obvious change in my son's growth. I simply nodded, casting my gaze toward the window to watch neighboring children play in their yards.
When the bath was ready, Gillian brought me there and helped me undress again. My heart squeezed as I remembered my own mother faintly and had to stave off the urge to hug the woman fiercely. Naked hugs couldn't be too comfortable.
The aromas in the bathroom were heaven by themselves, but the soothing water brought relief to my skin. I was only sitting low enough to cover half of my belly, but it felt like an overall reprieve. I could feel Gillian's eyes and looked over, only to wish I hadn't.
She looked so heartbroken at the angry marks all over my front, be them bruises from my restraints or stretch marks made from skin pulling too fast. My heart cracked too when I realized she thought it was all her fault.
"Oh Gillian," I couldn't help but start to cry, "please don't look at me that way, you didn't cause this."
Her arms were around me, a hand cupping the back of my head the way a mother cradled her babe. I felt her body wrack softly as she joined me in tears.
"If you hadn't gone through what you did, I never would have met Angeal," I reminded her shakily, "I never would have met you. And we never would have made our son."
"But if you'd never met Angeal, you wouldn't have even trapped and tortured like this," she countered, "you'd have a normal pregnancy and child, like you deserve."
We held each other and let the sorrows go with every tear, only to part after a long while and look back at each other solemnly.
"We're going to put a stop to Hollander's experiments," Gillian declared, "my son and grandson have been through enough, you've been through more than enough."
"And you've held onto someone else's guilt for too long, Gillian," I added, "we're going to make this right."