Warnings: Hojo. That's all I need to say, I think. I'm kind of nervous posting this. BRING ON THE FLAMES.

Author's note: I wasn't going to split the Shinra Mansion basement stuff into two parts, but it just seemed appropriate; it was getting pretty long . . . so, earlier update. It's been awhile, huh? I would say "I hope you like it", but I know you'll hate it, and hate me.

Desert Garden

A fanfic. by pixeled

-x-x-x-

You're surrounded by deceit

It has so many sides

Yet you turn your back on that fact

Rooted deep in history

A clever web of lies

No one gets away - no one tries

-x-x-x-

Part Eleven

-x-x-x-

"Him? This boy?"

Wheeze.

"So he killed Sephiroth?"

Vision blurred, voices far off. Wheeze.

A pause. Wheeze.

"Intriguing. Most intriguing."

Darkness. Heat. Pain.

Pain pulling him into a tunnel of nothingness.

The tunnel went on forever, but eventually there were voices again.

"Sir! The dosage is too high! You'll kill him!"

"Are you questioning my methods? The boy will die if we don't."

A loud, horrible scream. It seemed almost inhuman.

"You might have anesthetized him, sir."

"It's better this way."

The screaming went on forever.

"Doctor . . ."

"Put him in."

Darkness. Silence. Then light. Pale, sickly, yellow-green light.

"Cloud?" His voice sounded weak and pitiful inside his own head.

His eyes felt heavy, but when he focused he could see a body in front of him floating in a glass tube. His eyes fixed on the face with mute horror. There was so much pain etched into his features, and though his eyes were closed, his whole body seemed gnarled. His fingers twitched, his toes curled, but his hair drifted softly around his head, touching his cherubic cheeks like kisses. Zack was transfixed by the scar marring the glowing chest. Even cast in the light of mako, it seemed an angry mottled pink star, twisting out in all directions, right beside his heart.

"Cloud!" His own heart wrenched to see Cloud like that—naked, vulnerable, and in pain.

"He can't hear you," a voice drawled, dripping with contempt. Zack could hear the sound of a pen scratching on paper and then nothing. A face appeared above his own and two pale brown eyes behind glinting wire frames peered down into him, through him. He knew that face, knew it by the cold and clinical malice etched in the lines there. Cold fear flooded his veins and though he struggled to get up, thick restraints held him firmly in place. The pain crippled him and his arms barely moved against the thick cuffs holding him down.

Glasses flashed in the low light as Professor Hojo pushed them back up the flat slope of the bridge of his aquiline nose, his eyes narrowing and his upper lip raising in a sneer of disgust at Zack's pitiful form.

"Write this down." He only paused for a few brief moments, his head moving back over his shoulder, presumably to regard an assistant. Zack's eyes narrowed as the sallow scientist's throat was bared to him. His fingers twitched, itching to close around that thin neck and snap it like a twig.

"Subject A presented with several arm muscles torn," Hojo said, returning his dead eyes to Zack; it was the same deadness he had seen in Sephiroth's eyes, with the same ill regard for human life. "The deltoid, triceps brachii, brachialis, and biceps brachii in both arms. The entire right wrist was shattered. The humerus of the right arm splintered in several spots indicated on the chart. On the face, mandible splintered down the middle. Nose broken. In the legs, both kneecaps shattered. Several ribs cracked. Subject being tested for mako healing before administering S cells."

Zack's eyes widened. Genesis had mentioned S cells within the heart of the Nibelheim reactor. Something about Jenova. Was Hojo going to . . .

Hojo's eyes swept over Zack with distaste as he examined him, rattling off his itinerary of injuries as if they amounted to a grocery list.

The sound of a pen scratching furiously sounded cacophonous in Zack's ears.

A machine beeped somewhere to the left, slicing through him.

And then he heard the ruffle of Hojo's starched lab coat sleeves and saw long knobby fingers descend swiftly to prod at the points he'd just rattled off. Excruciating pain tore through him, a broken cry tearing itself from his lips.

"BP is dropping, sir."

"Interesting." Hojo withdrew his fingers, tilting his head as if studying a wounded bird. "The mako should have taken care of most of his injuries by now. We'll have to do studies on him to see what it is that's hindering the process." The fingers returned to press against the side of Zack's neck. Pity never once entered his eyes as he felt the dull throb of life there. "Beaten within an inch of his life, this one. Sephiroth really was my life's greatest work. So many failures before him. Too bad about Gast, really. He didn't see it my way." Zack fought through the pain and the fear, anger making his blood start to boil. "Oh?" Hojo felt the pulse beneath the soft pads of his fingers grow quicker, angrier. "I suppose this is what SOLDIER is," he said, his voice softening. "Brute beasts with no thoughts—only the instinct to fight. Even now you want to fight, when it would kill you." The fingers withdrew once more, burying gently in the hair matted with sweat at Zack's temple, stroking away the stray hairs covering his face. "Let this be a lesson to you," Hojo said, his eyes sliding off to the side, where the assistant came to stand. He withdrew his fingers entirely and wiped them on the breast of his clean white lab coat, smearing it with Zack's sweat. "There will be many failures in your career, but they will teach you to take chances. Chances like those we will be taking with these two here."

The assistant looked down at Zack, his eyes flashing with something. Zack couldn't tell if it was pity or something else, but clearly the doctor hadn't crushed the man's humanity under the weight of their research data yet.

"Yes, Doctor. You are kind—very kind indeed—to let me aid in your research."

"Kind?" Hojo intoned, his voice lilting. With a gentle swish of his lab coat, hands clasped behind his back, he walked toward Cloud and leaned forward, one hand sliding forth to trace over where the mottled scar lay beneath the glass tube. "I suppose I am kind, hm? This one here would have surely died without our little intervention."

"Get away from him." Zack meant for his voice to sound menacing, but it came out as a hoarse, desperate-sounding wheeze. And it was getting harder to focus, to keep his eyes open, to push past the pain. Hojo turned around so fast that his dark ponytail whipped around his head. He strode toward Zack and looked down at him.

"You are in no position to make demands, little one. Just as sure as mako flows through your veins, it is sure that you belong to me and owe me your life. You have no choice but to lay there like a good little boy and wait for your creator to breathe life into you." Hojo's long thin eyes glared with surprising fury. "I'll put you under myself." And he turned toward the assistant, holding out a hand. "Give me the mask."

The hiss of gas was unmistakable, and Zack quivered with anger to know he couldn't do anything about it, about their situation.

"Let go of Cloud. You don't need him. He's just an infantryman. I'm a 1st Class SOLDIER." It just tumbled out of his mouth—a direct line from his brain. Hojo stood poised above him, gas mask in hand. Cold white tendrils ghosted over his wrist, promising deep sleep. Hojo's eyes lit up, a sinister smile stretching his thick lips.

"Silly boy—deigning to think he understands." He tilted his head, his eyes growing even smaller, like halfmoons of mirth. "Go to sleep," he hissed, and seconds later it blended with the hiss of the mask as it descended over his nose and mouth, his pupils shrinking and his eyes wide at first before his eyelids slowly, slowly drifted closed.

-x-x-x-

New days dawn - let's start the game

Worship the winner

So come on - let's start the game

Your turn awaits you

-x-x-x-

Zack didn't know how much time had passed, but when his eyelids finally opened and stayed like that, he felt as though he had been asleep forever; but there was no indication of that from his surroundings. There were no windows, no clocks, only the incessant beeping and the yellow-green lights. And luckily, no Hojo or any of his assistants at the moment.

The pain was gone; it was an observation that came to him as a shock. He struggled against his bonds with renewed vigor, only getting so far as to lift his shoulders off the cold metal slab he was restrained against. One look at the wrist cuffs told him there was no way he was strong-arming his way out of them. Pure adamantium. But he tried anyway, and soon grew exhausted, falling back on the slab with a disheartened sigh.

"Damn it," he breathed.

Coldness seeped into his limbs and it was then that restlessness settled thick and powerful over him.

His eyes slowly started to sweep over his surroundings. What he noticed at first was that there was a drained tube right alongside Cloud's. No doubt they were planning to put him there. The place seemed a jumble of wires, tubes, green and black and metal and stone. There were strange things everywhere, brains and fetuses—a chocobo fetus next to a chicken fetus, a monkey brain next to a human brain. Everything made Zack shudder, Hojo's fury and madness striking into his heart.

"Cloud!" His voice wavered, sounding small and afraid. Across from him Cloud floated in the mako tube. The hum of power trailed from the massive wire extending from the top, mako swirling in slow circles. "Please, Cloud . . . if you can hear me."

Two bright eyes snapped open, the body encased jerking forward. Blond hair swirled and obscured his face, but Zack could see fingers scrambling at the tube, the boy's chest tightening. Awake, Cloud didn't know that he could breathe the mako in, and as hair swirled aside, Zack could see the boy's eyes impossibly widened. He banged on the glass, panicked and imploring Zack. He simply looked away, the sight unsettling him badly. He knew eventually his lungs would expand with mako and that he would begin to breathe again, but it was still hard to watch.

Finally the banging stopped and Zack slowly turned his eyes back to Cloud's. The boy had the look of someone who had expected death, but who was instead given life once more. His chest was heaving, his eyes fixed on his trembling fingers.

"Cloud . . . can you hear me?"

There was a slow nod.

"Good. Listen, Cloud, we're gonna get out of here, okay? The both of us." Zack wasn't so sure, but he had to believe. More importantly, he had to make Cloud believe.

-x-x-x-

Say, what's your choice

The die is cast

No going back now

What's your choice

The die is cast

Fake a "God bless you"

-x-x-x-

"The cells are rapidly degrading, sir."

"I think we're close. Just last week we saw a spike in their production—they were being made on their own."

Zack stared across at Cloud, the scientists' voices fading away. They were so close together that they might have been able to touch if it weren't for the restraints.

It was the first time he looked at the new glow in Cloud's eyes outside of the mako tube. For some strange reason he couldn't pinpoint, it made his heart ache to see that glow there. There was a part of him that never wanted to see it—to protect Cloud from it, to keep him out of the den of lies, monsters, and pain. But who was he to think he could save anyone?

Cloud was shivering; the metal slab was cold and his skin and hair were wet. He looked miserable, his eyes trained on Zack's, his lips white and red, chapped and bleeding. There was fear and pain in those eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to take it all away.

"I'll give him another injection."

Cloud's eyes flew wide, his arms tearing at his shackles and his back arching.

"Zack," he whimpered, trying to move his fingers out toward the raven-haired man's.

Zack could no longer count how many times his heart had broken to watch helplessly as Cloud suffered.

Zack had seen what those injections did to Cloud. At first he was very still, his eyes wide and flooded with green. And then his body started to convulse. It started with a few small jerks of his head, arms, legs, toes and fingers, but then he seized up, his fingers locked painfully and his whole body started to seize. He'd bitten almost clear through his tongue once, so slipping a mouth guard into the boy's mouth preceded every succeeding injection.

Sometimes Cloud would foam at the mouth. He had deep gashes in his arms from thrashing against the restraints, even after the seizures were over. Zack couldn't bear to watch it happen again—he hated that Cloud suffered and they kept him in a semi-drugged state most of the day. He was barely awake, and when he was, he was useless to Cloud. He could only watch as they jabbed needles into his arms, broke bones over and over to test his healing times, and crammed tubes down his throat before they dumped him back into the mako tube where he beat against the glass until red mixed with green and he passed out from the exhaustion.

Zack's stomach twisted whenever he heard the screams. They followed him into the darkness. He tried to think of Angeal, but images of Cloud's mangled body being carved open by scalpels invaded his brain.

He was barely awake to see this injection, but he could hear the animal-like grunts and growls and howls of pain. He could hear the rage and the sadness. And when he could open his eyes again, he saw Hojo petting Cloud's hair and cooing at him.

"It will all be over soon, pet."

Cloud was gasping around the mouth guard, his body struggling to lunge forward, his teeth gnashing the soft material caught between them. When Hojo went to remove the guard, Cloud's teeth clamped around his fingers, tearing savagely. It was a small triumph, but Zack let out a weak cheer over the shriek Hojo emitted.

"You'll pay for that! Don't you know, little one, that one never bites the hand that feeds?" The menace in Hojo's voice only made Zack laugh.

"You call that gruel food?" It was the first time he laughed in what seemed like forever. All he got for it was a slap across the face with bloody fingers.

"It's time we inject this one too," Hojo growled, his teeth grating as he scrubbed his hands and wrapped a bandage around his fingers. He flung open a medical closet and pulled something out, returning with his shoulders squared. Zack fought with him when the man tried to slip the mouth guard on, his head shaking from side to side on the metal slab.

"Resist and lose your tongue. It's up to you, ultimately. We all make choices; I'd hate for you to make ill-advised ones." Zack's eyes burned with fury, but he allowed the mouth guard to settle between his teeth, his jaw squaring at the way Hojo cupped his cheek.

"This will hurt a bit," Hojo sneered, a seemingly huge needle being transferred into his hand. He grabbed at his forearm, jabbing the thick metal into the vein he found there.

He barely reacted to whatever they pumped into him.

"He's SOLDIER. How much did you administer?"

"200 CCs, Doctor."

"Triple it." Pale brown eyes stared down into Zack's, promising pain, and it was delivered.

It felt every bit as excruciating as it looked, even pumped full of what had to be strong drugs to keep him—a SOLDIER operative—drowsy.

When he was stripped of his clothes and tossed into the mako tube, Cloud was already floating by his side, the angry gashes around his wrists and ankles illuminated by the pale fluid.

Zack gasped, coldness enveloping his form as mako rose above his shoulders, and eventually submerged him totally.

The mako lulled him, made him believe that everything was a terrible nightmare.

"Wake up, Zack. You can't sleep in my bed all day."

Two sleepy turquoise eyes opened slowly and fixed on the darker blue-gray eyes of his mentor's.

"If I told you I had a bad dream, would you stop looking at me disapprovingly and come back to bed?"

"I indulge you too much as it is," Angeal sighed, but he sat back onto the bed and trailed a hand down the younger man's chest until he pushed aside the dark blue sheets to reveal Zack to him.

"Do you know what makes me feel safest after a bad dream?" Zack asked, his arms moving up to clasp around Angeal's neck.

"No," Angeal admitted, a tiny smirk appearing on his face. "What is it?"

"This," Zack breathed as he tugged Angeal down so that he could brush his lips against the older man's. "Mmmm, coffee breath. Do you know how fuckin' sexy coffee breath is?" Angeal laughed and slid down into the bed, his lips opening Zack's up as he moved his body against his student's.

"Training in three hours," Angeal whispered huskily as their lips finally parted. "Don't forget."

"Like I'd ever pass up the opportunity to get all hot and sweaty with you," Zack grinned, giving Angeal's lips another soft kiss.

"Mmmhmm. Don't be late, either." Dark blue-gray eyes twinkled with mirth, his thumb brushing Zack's bottom lip.

"Yes, sir." Zack's eyes were just as bright.

"You can stay here for as long as you want, but—"

"Use the back exit. Make sure no one sees me. Yup, got it, sir." Angeal rolled his eyes heavenward and sighed dramatically.

"What am I going to do with you? You've practically moved in here."

"You're the one who gave me the key, you know," Zack grinned.

"Yes, I suppose that's true. I opened the floodgates to your clinging."

"You love me," Zack grinned even wider.

"Yes, I suppose I would have to," Angeal laughed, a low noise that always made Zack feel warm. He started to move off the bed, but Zack pulled him back down.

"What, no goodbye kiss?"

"Zack, I'm going to see you in—" Lips crushed against Angeal's, and then the dream started to shift. It was Hojo's lips crushed against his own, and they were lying on a giant metal slab, sickly laughter folding over Zack as those lips came away from his mouth.

"It's time for another injection," Hojo laughed.

Zack's body slumped to the floor of the drained mako tube, the assistant hauling him up by his armpits and injecting him with more of the sedative he'd come to loathe.

The last thing he remembered was the icy feeling slipping into numbness as he was laid back on the metal slab.

-x-x-x-