Chapter Ten: Mercy
Tifa felt she was walking outside herself, her stiff fingers unlocking the small drawer. Her hand grasped the handle, gently sliding the compartment open. Only one item lay contained therein, a small pencil case holding a lethal syringe, given to her by Vincent in case Eden proved to be a viable threat. Her heavy, bloodshot eyes stared vacantly at the thing. She'd spent all of the previous day in silent, contemplative distress, followed by a night of even deeper inner turmoil.
"I'm just a little tired," is what she'd told Eden and Marlene. Tifa could hardly bring herself to look at Eden, because she knew they'd reached a tipping point. His Jenova traits were coming into full bloom as he strengthened, both physically and mentally. For that, he'd turned into Sephiroth's mouthpiece, the man's perfect agent among bitter enemies. The boy went so far as to try to convince Tifa she shouldn't resist them, aiding her in the wake if a powerful mental attack. Because of him, she knew Sephiroth had plans for her specifically, but she was too afraid to ask exactly what they were. It didn't matter. She'd do everything she could to thwart them, just as Cloud had before her.
Her forehead, her entire frontal lobe burned from traces of Sephiroth's full invasion into her psyche two nights ago. There was something so very wrong in having to fear a child this way, knowing he was a willing tool for mental rapist. And it was even worse to allow him to continue being used that way, she'd concluded. Tifa's spirit had collapsed when it occurred to her that during his stories, essentially the exact same thing had been happening to Marlene. Whether it was a mere stroke of luck that the malicious spirit was being gentler with her, or if Sephiroth had more complicated plans, Tifa didn't know. Now, there would be no need to guess.
Very carefully, painstakingly, she removed the syringe from the box, softly setting it on the bar's kitchen counter, making no noise at all. If she couldn't hear the steps she was taking toward committing the deed, she could momentarily deny the decision she'd made; pretend that this was something a bit more benign.
Hours of weeping and thinking and whispering out loud to herself, and to Cloud and Aerith, if they could hear her, had settled it. All that could be saved of little Eden was his soul, which while enslaved, was still that of an innocent. But as a living being, as an entity in the physical realm, he was much too dangerous.
This wasn't about fear, Tifa reminded herself, padding upstairs, meticulously avoiding the spots that creaked. She was going to do this because she loved him, because she cared that deeply for Eden, enough to set him free from a cursed existence that would only see him become a catalyst for destruction. The body he inhabited was a profane prison, not fit to house his true being, one that should be free of Sephiroth's influence; of Jenova's mimetic legacy.
But somehow, Tifa still felt so detached, emotionally fighting the reality. She climbed, she lurked, and she ghosted down the endless hallway to Eden's room. It wasn't really her that was doing this, a part of her mind reasoned. It was her conscience acting on her behalf, or perhaps her logical sensibility doing what her heart simply could not, would not do. Her hand touched his door, but it felt unreal. That wasn't her hand; it was just an extension of dark necessity. Coaxing her forward, the door budged slightly, having not been fully closed. Tifa released a shaky breath and continued into the last steps of her executioner's march.
No one knew she was doing this. Tifa couldn't stand the thought of being comforted or reassured that she'd done the right thing in the end. No matter what the cause, even if for the very life of Gaia itself, she never wanted to hear anything positive said of having to put a young one out of his misery like some rabid animal. When he was gone, when it was time to care for his body and bury him, that's when she'd tell Vincent, Reeve, and Yuffie. As far as Marlene was concerned, Eden was going to die in his sleep of unknown health causes.
Kneeling beside his bed, Tifa tenderly took one of Eden's little hands into her own, stroking the back of his palm with her thumb. The child slept peacefully, deeply, clutching his new black chocobo plush. Marlene had been right on with that idea. He'd been completely elated that day, carrying the fluffy toy around everywhere, so unlike how he'd been a couple nights ago.
"I'm sorry…" she murmured but had to bite down hard on her lower lip to keep from sobbing. Tifa couldn't say anymore.
Doing her best to steady her shaky hands, Tifa uncapped the deadly syringe. Her heart was racing as she brought the needle just barely to the crook of his arm, pressing ever so slightly against a plump vein there. All it would take now was a quick jab, and her duty to him would be done. Eden would simply never wake again. He'd neither scream nor cry. He'd not fearfully plea for his life; he'd pass away entirely unaware of what had happened, hopefully to return to the Planet in peace.
Light pressure surrounded Tifa's pointer finger before she properly angled the lethal injection. Her eyes traveled down the length of his arm to where she held him. Unconsciously, he lazily pulled at that finger, a lot like he would with her pants leg or hand when he really wanted her attention. He tugged a few more times, before wriggling loose and grabbing her whole arm, cradling it against his chest along with his plush.
Startled, Tifa dropped the syringe. It rolled back behind her, just out of reach. Before her, Eden made a few incoherent, dissatisfied noises, snuggling tightly with her arm, ending on one quietly whimpered word, "…mine…"
After that, Eden was perfectly still and quiet. His grip loosened, letting Tifa all but stumble backwards. She scooped up the syringe at her feet and fled the room, hurrying back down to the vacant bar, although not as quietly as she'd crept up. Once in the kitchen, she cracked. Huge sobs choked up her throat, and she leaned over the counter, mortified at how fragile of a grip she could keep on her emotions; awestruck at how undecided she truly remained even now. Rationally, she should have steeled her heart, and followed through. Why did the right answer have to be so damn cruel?
She'd thought so hard on what needed to be done. She firmly believed her mind was set, and yet she'd failed. Why and how was risking Gaia's life so very preferable to sacrificing one young soul? Was she okay with that? So many other little ones, like Marlene, might be spared for this one death, but Tifa couldn't bring herself to do it. There was nothing fair or noble about the exchange the Planet seemed to require. If destroying anyone who showed up with the wrong hair and eyes had become the cost of protecting the Planet, then perhaps it was too far gone already, Tifa considered angrily, almost hysterically.
She hated herself for it.
If the Planet was too far gone, then everything and everyone on it was as well. Her emotional side and logical mind were divided, but there was one thing she was certain of; one thing she could be decisive about right now, in this otherwise muddied instant. That repulsive thing, that injection full of her kid's demise, had no place in her hands or in her house.
Moving frantically, faster than she could think, Tifa emptied the contents down the sink's drain, rolled the syringe up in several thick layers of paper towels, and pitched it into the garbage can. The bin was only half-full, but she decided that was more than enough to justify emptying it this time. Outside, in the back of her bar, she flung the loose sack on top of an almost overflowing dumpster. At daybreak, the trash service would come for it, carrying whatever remained of Eden's potential execution far away, ruining it beneath layers and mounds of filthy, filthy refuse. That was right where such a thing belonged.
So what if Eden was a puppet? He was a helpless little boy, too. So what if he was deeply disturbed or potentially dangerous? That didn't mean he didn't need anyone to care for him; it sure as hell didn't excuse so easily disposing him over the one good scare he'd given her.
Tifa shuddered, dragging her feet. Back inside, she pulled an open carton of orange juice from the bar's refrigerator, drinking from it liberally. The tangy juice was refreshing; icy cold down her parched throat, and it gave her a much-needed momentary distraction, but she still felt she needed a little something extra. Out at the bar itself, she remembered there was a bottle of Vodka that was only two or three shots from being finished and fetched it.
Combining the juice with the alcohol, Tifa shook her head disappointedly at herself. This was turning into a very, very bad habit. Once upon a time, having a drink or two in the face of death or under extreme duress wasn't such a horrible idea. But those kinds of things were turning into daily occurrences anymore. She was going to have to find another means of taking the edge off, before she was forced to look in the mirror and admit to becoming an alcoholic. She'd always taken great, great care not to get carried away in that respect, being the owner of a bar. Recovering from a slip like that might be impossible without giving up her business and livelihood.
But not tonight. She wasn't going to worry about it tonight.
"Go to her…"
Eden's eyes popped open, and he scratched languidly at his arm, causing the fuzzy chocobo plush to fall to his side. Tifa had been here not long ago, so scared, about to do something desperate. Gingerly touching the spot where the needle had come in contact with his skin, he weakly smiled, warmed. Not even being a living representation of her worst enemy, quite possibly her worst fear, could drive her away from him.
Eden could feel his satisfaction also, prickling in the back of his mind. But Tifa was distraught, first for not being able to end his life, and then at the fact that she'd so seriously considered it a possibility.
He had to put her mind to some kind of rest; reassure her that she'd done well for both of them.
"…console our chosen…"
Mechanically, Eden rolled out of bed, obeying the voice in his head, and stalked down the hall and stairs. He found her slouched over a tall glass of orange fluid, shoulders trembling with the force of her tears. All of Tifa's hate, her doubt, her sorrow, her deep-seated indecision and despair emanated throughout the room like a heavy, poisonous fog.
Timid, small footsteps guided him to sit on the floor below her bar stool. She made a sound, an odd hybrid of a hiccup and a gasp, as he clung to her left foot, resting his groggy head against her calf. Tifa looked down at him, and immediately bit back on everything. The thick, mournful aura quickly receded as she tried to put on a brave face for him.
For him. She'd do anything to keep him safe, Eden realized, even from herself.
"Tifa…thank you," Eden murmured, embracing her leg tighter. "Even knowing, you protect me every time…"
Tifa's head throbbed, burning. Those words—it was just Eden's voice, and only his honest feelings, she believed, but their tone was way too grown-up. Children didn't typically speak such weighty things. He was ever so delicately broaching the topic of what she knew about him, wrapping it in soft, sincere thanks for sparing him. He'd been asleep for that, but he was aware of it anyway. She was still dealing with more than just the little boy, it seemed.
"Yeah, I guess so," Tifa numbly replied. She felt so stupid, so very trapped. There was no way to be completely positive with him, when he was cajoling her into talking about something this dreaded. But there was nothing reasonable in being hostile or angry either. As inadequate as it felt, a simple agreement was the best she could do. The last thing she needed right now was to tempt his puppet master into interrupting, answering for him.
"Don't worry, Tifa. You will be…he will…repay you…" Eden spaced out in mid-sentence then, as though listening to something from afar. The look on his face was one of blissful contentment, though. The world could crumble underfoot, and he'd have not a worry.
Tifa felt drunk enough to ask.
"Who is 'he', Eden?" She almost wanted to laugh at the question's absurdity. She already knew, but she just had to pry, to make sure she was right. Who knew? Maybe all those mind-warping experiences with this eccentric, lovable Sephiroth Remnant were simply hallucinatory products of her stressed-out mind. She could only wish.
The boy's head popped up, revealing an embarrassed blush on his cheeks. He really expected her to be too intimidated to ask, didn't he?
"You know….he's Mother's favorite. But I'm not sad about that, because once I'm with her, we're really the same." Eden bashfully fidgeted as he spoke, eagerly regarding Tifa like any normal kid would when in anticipation of praise after revealing something special he did. He might as well have been offering her a newly scribbled crayon sketch for the refrigerator door, the way he said it.
Tifa tossed back the precious remains of her booze in reaction, hoping she might choke down that idea a little smoother with its help. "The same?" She felt oddly indifferent.
"Uh-huh."
Maybe he was lying. Maybe he'd been deceived into believing a lie. Or, Eden was telling the truth, the unadulterated, uncompromised truth. It was enough to make Tifa consider the merits of dumpster diving, but quickly discarded the thought. She'd emptied the syringe for the most part, and whatever was left of it had likely been crushed beneath the other trash. That, and the fact she knew full well she couldn't do it. Even as the kid sat at her feet, making an unfortunately believable logical assertion that he was Sephiroth, at least in essence, she couldn't do it.
They were both probably better off that he'd caught her half-wasted to share this tidbit of information. Tifa wasn't quite capable of being horrified or repulsed right now. In fact, the whole thing was amusing and curious in a way. Complacency was the worst thing she could bring herself to feel.
Tifa crossed her arms over the bar's counter, pillowing her head with them. "Mmhm. One and the same. Of course," she grumbled emotionlessly. "Maybe. Maybe if you magically grow three feet taller, and if I don't cut your hair…for years…"
The better, safer option was not to believe it. Eden couldn't even lift a normal katana. A large kitchen knife was the closest she'd seen him come to handling a real blade. He'd seemed rather perplexed at what exactly to do with even that at the time. She had to take it from him before he hurt himself. A tickled snort puffed out of Tifa's nose while she tried to resist laughing at that goofy memory. Poor little guy. He might have tight connections to the world's greatest evil, but he still needed help cutting his meat.
A tiny finger prodding at her leg stirred Tifa from her half-sleeping state. Eden stood, and was now casually observing her, unaffected by her gently mocking incredulity. With some effort, the boy climbed up onto her lap, and embraced her.
"Just wait," Eden replied, closing his eyes as she draped a lazy arm around him. "…a little longer."
"Sure, whatever you want," Tifa yawned. As long as he couldn't have his Reunion, she might as well treat it like a silly, albeit very morbid child's fantasy.
How else was she supposed to cope, when the fantasy liked to drag her in for a ride from time to time? But it could never come to fruition, as long as what he sought was so well-guarded, locked down, disguised, and untraceable. That was what made it acceptable to let him keep breathing, Tifa reasoned, excusing her faltered attempt on his life.
Yuffie's head hurt from hanging upside down for too long. She grit her teeth as she pulled herself upright, into a sitting position. If their conversation had been less bizarre, the sight of Tifa and Eden snuggling up all sleepy and tired would have been adorable. Spying on her wasn't Yuffie's idea of a good assignment or mission, but she'd grown too worried not to. In short, the older woman had come across as worn down during their last sparring match. Not so much physically, she noted tersely to herself, still nursing a wounded ego after losing. Tifa was emotionally exhausted. The short, uncertain little hints she dropped made it pretty obvious that Eden's behavior needed checked on.
Throughout the evening, she'd crept along Seventh Heaven's roof, occasionally shimmying down ventilation ducts, watching and listening to her friend and the boy. A reliable first impression of the situation was easy enough to gather: Tifa was quite troubled. She'd murmured and argued with herself until finally, she broke out Vincent's emergency solution. Eden had apparently done something, at some point, serious enough for her to think that was all she could do for him. Yuffie was still trying to guess what that might be. Had he harmed Marlene? Were there other Sephiroth larvae wandering around that she'd not noticed yet?
And then, her imagination began to fill in the holes when Eden started to talk about being with his "Mother" again. As physically harmless as he'd proven to be, Eden had suddenly chosen to reveal his most threatening and frightening hand: He was damn well aware of the nature of his existence, and all too willing to follow it through to the end. Chewing on that fact, Yuffie waited until she was sure Tifa would still be safe with him before leaping from rooftop to rooftop, hurrying back to W.R.O. Headquarters. Too bad for the people she was probably waking up, she briefly thought. This was a crisis.
"First, tell Vincent, and then Reeve, and then, then…." she panted. Then what? What would they be able to do? Crash through Seventh Heaven's front doors with backup, and tell Tifa that Eden's life was no longer in her hands? It might actually come to that, Yuffie uncomfortably realized. As freaky and sinister as the little guy could be, Tifa had quickly come to love him as her own. But even if it broke her motherly heart, it seemed as though Eden had clearly chosen his direction.
"Ha…ha…the same, he said! Eden is Sephiroth…sorta…kinda…funny…" Yuffie huffed, pushing herself to run and jump faster. How tragic would it be if she was wrong, and they killed him? Yet, how positively creepy would it be if that was exactly right? "…And to think, I gave him all those cookies….damn larva kid…."
She flew through the front gates, practically smashing her identification card through the magnetic readers at each set of doors she passed through. Keeping up a frantic pace, she bypassed the elevators, figuring that they'd be way too slow for her. Instead, she chose to race up the stairs to Reeve's office. Arriving at the door, she was going to burst through, but it was locked! That wasn't right. Both he and Vincent were supposed to be in there, waiting for her to report back from her reconnaissance. They knew it might keep them all up late. Had they forgotten?
"Ugh! No, no…come on already!" she growled, viciously shaking the handle, while pounding on the door. "Heeeey! It's Yuffie out here! Open up! Now!"
Frustrated, she took a few steps back, preparing herself to body-check the door open. But when she barreled ahead, it was no longer in her way. "Whoooaa!" Yuffie tried to stop herself gracefully but fell flat on her face from the momentum she'd built. At least she managed to miss a literal head-on collision with Reeve's desk, just barely.
Vincent's eyes followed her as she slid back to sit up on the cold floor. "Owww…" She was very clearly alive and relatively uninjured, he assessed. Silently, he offered her a tissue to clean the fresh scrape on her chin.
"What happened?" Reeve's voice called out from the other side of his desk. He'd been attempting a nap, figuring that Yuffie wasn't going to return until dawn.
Yuffie inhaled. There was much to tell, but so many details not quite in place. "Well…first, Tifa was going to finish off Eden, but then she became too upset. Not surprised about that one. Then, she got drunk. And then, Eden came down, saying some weird stuff about someone repaying her. And—"
"Tifa was going to euthanize Eden?" Reeve cut her off, astounded and half standing. Last time they'd spoken, the woman had been wholeheartedly opposed to the idea, even mentioning that if it did become necessary, she'd have to ask for help. She'd not said a word to anyone, however. "Why?"
"I…don't really know. But! He also said that he and his 'Mother's' favorite are going to be the same once they're all together. Sounds to me like the kid knows things…" Yuffie hopped up from the floor. She'd calmed down somewhat, freshly chilled by her recollection of Eden's voice when he'd said that. It was a very calm tone, but gushing beneath the surface, like it was something he'd been waiting to share for some time. What it turned into was an inappropriately casual confirmation of what they all already knew.
Grimacing slightly, Vincent punched a few buttons on his phone, nodding when he was content with what he saw. "Lab security is still intact. No breaches in the stasis system. I doubt Reunion will happen tonight."
"This doesn't bode well," Reeve sighed resignedly.
Deep down, he wished there might be some way to negotiate with Sephiroth, but the fallen ex-SOLDIER was dead set on his ambitions. If dying multiple times wasn't enough to make him concede anything, trying to have a reasonable discussion was out of the question. They might get what could have been some useful answers, but too little too late, and then they'd all die at his hands.
"We have to ask Tifa for more information, but after that…hm." Not even Vincent wanted to say it anymore. He'd seen enough death in the past few weeks-more than his fill. The thought of having to do for Eden as he'd done for Rufus put a bitter taste in his mouth. That the boy was an apparently healthy 8 or 9-year-old with no wish to die made it all the more grueling. There was no misery to put him out of, only that which he might cause if he was allowed to live.
"Yeah…I know, Vincent," Yuffie somberly agreed. "We've probably waited too long anyway. But at least…at least it'll be over. The Planet will be okay."
Vincent winced. Didn't they all know by now that it was never, ever that easy? Tifa wasn't going to surrender Eden to the W.R.O. without some considerable convincing. A small part of him worried that she might fight them for him. She'd become quite formidable. He'd seen her spar with Yuffie on occasion, combining her martial arts with swordplay to create a unique brand of fighting all her own. Cloud would have been proud of her; maybe even a little envious, if not for the situation. Hopefully, they could rely on Tifa to be reasonable about this.
"We can only hope. North Cave and Mideel Lifestream reads are at 47% infection," Reeve stated torpidly. "Also, the field technicians have found no evidence of unused Weapon forms."
Yuffie let herself collapse into a soft leather chair. "We're really all that's left, aren't we? Kinda scary…"
"Even if Weapon remained, we've already seen what it does when the real target is unreachable. It's not smart," Vincent reminded her. But Reeve's statistics only highlighted the dreadful truth. Even if Gaia lost and died, where would the Lifestream go? Even Omega was gone.
Gaia was very, very sick; in dire need of aid, naturally defenseless in of itself. Would the elimination of one child Remnant really be enough to help cure the Planet, now almost divided in half between positive and negative Lifestream flows?