A/N: Thanks for all the feedback guys!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

Chapter 11

Genesis' mind was in turmoil.

Hawke's trite explanations whirled around his head wreaking havoc on long held thoughts and assumptions. And yet she had sat looking at him so casually, sprawled over a dingy hotel couch, calmly drinking her tea. Despite desperately wanting to ask about his corruption, to demand a thorough explanation for how she had healed him and what it all meant, they were not alone. He wouldn't speak of it with an audience, Hawke might already know about his degradation but it wasn't something he was prepared to discuss in front of the curious teenager in the corner. Instead he swept out of the room.

A few hours later he was sitting on the waist high ledge of the hotel's roof. The sun had long set; a host of stars and the waning moon filled the heavens and reflected on the calm ocean below. Genesis stared out at the view, craving the tranquillity of the night sky. The wind wiped his coat around him; it felt like an acknowledgment of his whirling thoughts.

Hawke's bizarre account had certainly given him much to think over, (he would undoubtedly be spending the foreseeable future trying to cast spells without materia), but at the forefront of his mind was what this meant for his corruption.

The dreams had been real. Whatever the 'fade' was, he hadn't simply imagined meeting Hawke there. So he hadn't imagined her saying she couldn't heal him either.

Perhaps she was lying? She had healed his shoulder and then his side just this afternoon, why not the rest? But then why would she lie?

She didn't like Shinra. Maybe that was the reason. For all his dislike of the company he was still one of its most prominent figures. Could she be content to watch him fall apart if only to spite his employers? Even as the thought passed through his head he dismissed it. He might not have spent much time with Hawke, but he didn't think she would be so cruel. She had healed him twice already when she had no obligation to do so.

She had mentioned a brother. A brother who had died of degradation. If she had the means to heal it, she would have started with him.

So this was all a waste.

A bizarre and convoluted goose chase that had cost him precious time and seen him kill his own Summon.

Genesis didn't know if he wanted to drown himself in morose poetry or just burn the hotel down, magical aliens be damned-

Wait. A thought struck him.

If she wasn't from Gaia, then how could her brother get the corruption? Of all Shinra's SOLDIERs only he and Angeal had been created in such a way that resulted in degradation, and that was because of highly specific genetic modification while still in the womb. Even Sephiroth, who was only slightly different, wasn't subject to the degrading. If the brother's genetics were different then perhaps there was still hope?

He knew he was grasping at straws. Part of his mind condemned how pathetic it was, the other half didn't care so long as his death sentence was delayed. He had once thought that he could maintain his dignity regardless of circumstance. That was before he had been told in no uncertain terms that he was dying.

The door behind him creaked. He turned his head in time to see Hawke step out onto the roof. The teenage accompaniment was absent.

She looked up at stars, apparently not having noticed him yet, and sighed in what sounded like relief.

He wondered how long it would take her to notice she had company. Her head whipped around to face him. Apparently not long then.

"Genesis." she said, "You're not secretly homeless, I hope?"

She approached and leaned on a crate next to him.

"Hawke."

He really should have realised she was the same Hawke he spoke to in his dreams. She had the same mannerisms and attitude. She carried herself with the same resigned air of someone perpetually waiting for the next explosion.

He hoped he wasn't about to trigger one such explosion now.

"What happened to your brother?" he asked quietly. She seemed taken aback by the sudden question, but he wasn't in the mood for banter. He suspected it was a delicate subject, he just hoped she would be inclined to talk about it.

She sighed and looked down at her hands. The spikey gauntlet and leather gloves had been removed, exposing scarred and callous ridden fingers.

"He got infected. The blight got him."

Infected? He was fairly certain it wasn't contagious. He asked what the blight was. She was still looking down.

"Darkspawn. The taint." she looked up from her hands, as though remembering she wasn't conversing with herself. "There are these creatures, called Darkspawn, that are corrupted. They live underground and there are tens of thousands of them, if not more. They are mindless, decaying mockeries of life who destroy everything around them. If you get infected you join them. Carver… he must have had an open wound that..." She stopped, her bleak narration faltering.

"And it killed him." he finished for her.

"No. Well, yes, technically." At his confused expression she continued. "The corruption is a death sentence. There's no escaping it. Carver was recruited by the Grey Wardens, they can't cure the taint, but they can slow it down somehow. They're a secretive group, dedicated to fighting the darkspawn until they join the horde themselves. Carver could already be gone, I don't know." Her usually expressive face was cold and vacant. She looked lost.

The description she gave was chilling, but definitely not the corruption he had. Clearly he still had reason to be grateful.

"I am sorry for your loss." he said carefully. Her brother's death was obviously still painful for her; he didn't wish to come across as dismissive.

"There is no such blight on Gaia."

"Isn't there?" she asked.

"I was born with my corruption."

"It's taking its sweet time then." she said, shrugging off the ghost of her brother.

He narrowed his eyes. "No longer, I'm afraid. When you healed my shoulder, you reversed much of the damage. I would ask you to do so again."

She gave him a measuring look. "If it's not the Blight then what is it?"

He returned the measuring gaze. He might be indebted to her, but this wasn't something he explained casually.

"Don't give me that," she said at the look he was giving her, "I answered your questions, now answer mine."

"You cannot speak of this to anyone."

"Alright. You have my word."

"Shinra creates its enhanced SOLDIER operatives by injecting Mako into the bloodstream of adults. When the process was just being developed however, they experimented with injecting Mako, amoung other things, into an unborn child." Hawke looked horrified. "I am the result. As are the two other strongest SOLDIERs Shinra has. The process was flawed though, and now I am breaking down. My body is rejecting the enhancements it was born with and it is tearing me apart at the seams." He watched her face expecting to see pity but there was nothing but anger in her expression.

"Who do they think they are? They can't just-" she cut herself off and turned her head aside. A few minutes later she looked at him again, a thoughtful expression replacing her anger.

"When I healed your Shoulder, there was something there. Something vicious and malignant wrapped around your core and crushing you in its grip. It felt so much like the blight I assumed that it was."

"It cannot be. There are no darkspawn here. This is just the result of Shinra's arrogance and complete disregard for anyone other than themselves." he didn't care if his bitterness coloured his voice, there was no point hiding his hatred for the company.

"Bastards." she sounded genuinely sickened.

"Quite."

He looked out again at tiered city and the ocean beyond. The wind had dropped, leaving nothing but stillness. Hawke sighed.

"It probably won't work but… I can try to heal you, Genesis." she said. "I'm not much of a healer, I never have been. My skill isn't anything to write home about but I can try. If there's anything I can do…"

"I would appreciate it." More than he could ever say, though he suspected she knew that.

He left the ledge and stood facing her; unsure as to what exactly she had in mind. She stood directly in front of him.

"Alright, give me your hand." she said, taking his hand without waiting for him to comply.

"You have a terrible bedside manner."

"If you're very good, then afterwards you can have a lollypop." she said lightly.

He rolled his eyes. She held his right hand in her left, and lifted her other hand to his chest. She placed it just over his heart, her fingers sinking into the material of his uniform. Standing as close as they were he noticed she smelt like electricity and blackberries.

"Depending on how this goes, it may hurt a bit. Hopefully not, but if it does, terribly sorry."

"That is a great comfort." he said in a dry tone.

She closed her eyes. He watched her brow pull down in concentration and felt the tell-tale tension of magic fill the air. He felt a warmth grow somewhere in the depths of his chest.

Hawke tilted her head to the side in what looked to be confusion. That did not bode well. Her grip on his hand tightened.

The warmth in his chest spread in every direction and turned into a burning heat just edging on pain. Aches and pains he had learnt to live with sharpened for a moment and then faded away entirely, as did a strange numbness in his mind that he hadn't noticed was there. Everything felt sharper and more distinct, as though his very thoughts had been partially veiled from him.

Hawke's look of concentration had turned into an open grimace and she was breathing heavily.

She pulled away with a yell. He steadied her when she began to collapse.

She leaned back against a crate and tried to regain her breath. Genesis stood back and felt muscle stretch without pain for the first time in what was surely the longest year of his life. The relief was so great he had to stop himself from embracing Hawke in celebration.

"How are you feeling?" she asked when she had regained herself.

"I feel… whole." He was probably smiling like a fool. He didn't care. "I haven't felt this healthy in over a year. Thank you, Hawke." He said, bowing. "That didn't hurt at all."

She laughed, "Clearly you got the better end of the deal. Oh," she clutched her head in her hand, "I've fought sentient rocks that didn't hit that hard."

"I didn't hit you." he said, puzzled.

"No, but whatever's eating you did. I've done what I could Genesis, it's not gone, but you should last longer now."

That gave him pause. So it wasn't yet over after all. Still, he had a reprieve that he would not let go to waste.

"Do you know how long?" he asked.

"No idea. I guess if you just stay at home and knit then it'll probably be ages yet."

He chuckled, "Is that your recommendation then, Doctor? Take up knitting?"

"I hear it's very soothing." Hawke said lightly, before growing serious again. "Whatever you've got Genesis, it's vicious. Even the blight doesn't fight back like that." she shook her head and sat on the low crate beside her.

"I am in your debt, Hawke." he leaned back against the crate opposite her. He might not be completely healed yet, but he was far better than he had been. That bought him more time to find a permanent solution, for both himself and Angeal. In the meantime, he wasn't in any pain and in near perfect form. How refreshing.

"The goddess descends from the sky, wings of light and dark spread afar." he quoted quietly from memory, smiling at the familiar words that no longer sounded so ominous. "She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting…"

Hawke was looking at him oddly.

"Well that gift wasn't everlasting so try not to pick a fight with a herd of Dragons or anything. If you need a patch up, well, let me know."

"You are kinder than I could have hoped, Hawke. And it would be a pack of dragons, not a herd."

"Yeah well if I need a favour I'll let you know. And wouldn't it be a flock?"

"I will aid you however I can." he said while inclining his head "And no it wouldn't be a flock, that's absurd, they aren't geese."

"Of course not because a group of geese is called a gaggle. Maybe it's a murder of Dragons, like crows."

"Fitting, though I think a brood might be the proper term."

"Wouldn't that just be for a group of younger dragons?"

"You never get more than one old dragon so it hardly matters."

"Where exactly do you imagine the younger dragons come from Genesis?"

They were back in Midgar.

Aerith was glad. As much as she had enjoyed their stay in Junon, it was all a little overwhelming and certainly exhausting. Her first time out of Midgar and her first time under the clear blue sky; it had been glorious, but nothing could replace home, grimy and dark as it was. And it wasn't because she missed Zack, no matter what Hawke insinuated.

Well, it wasn't just because she missed Zack. She missed her mother as well.

Regardless, they had been back for a few days now and were slipping back into their comfortable routine. Reno had smirked at Hawke when they reached the church that morning and asked how their holiday had been. Hawke had loudly declared how much she enjoyed visiting Fort Condor and Reno had wandered off laughing.

After another morning of trying to cast a simple shield spell and not even the smallest amount of success, Hawke had gotten up and said they were going out. She'd refused to answer questions as to where or why, other than they weren't getting lunch.

Aerith followed along trying to guess where they were going. Hawke led her into Sector 6 and through streets she didn't recognize to a little store stuck in a wall. Aerith was no closer to guessing.

Hawke held the door open for her with a smile.

Aerith stepped in and gasped. The store was full of nothing but staffs. Lining the walls, in stands filling the room, there were all manner of magical staves, just beckoning her.

"I can't afford the high end staffs, Aerith, but you probably couldn't wield them anyway. If you search that end of the store and I'll search over here, I'm sure we'll find something perfect for you."

"Thanks Hawke!" She spun around and hugged the woman, before skipping to the back of the store. There were so many to choose from! Long ones, short ones, carved, rough, patterned, enchanted, with blades, materia slots, the options were endless. She had no idea what she preferred but eagerly looked through them all anyway. Behind her she heard Hawke say hi to the store owner who greeted her by name.

She wanted to try them out, to actually see how her magic felt coursing through them but that would draw too much attention. She didn't have any materia with her, (she didn't have any materia at all in fact) so she would just have to go by looks and prodding.

She was comparing a sanded birch staff that had a blue crystal set into the end with a staff of dark walnut with a bunch of red ribbons wrapped around one end. Hawke came and stood next to her.

"Never go for ribbons, they fray almost immediately and then the entire look is ruined." Hawke said.

"But it'll still work though right?" Practicality was key wasn't it?

"Yeah but if you can look great then why not?" she said with a laugh in her voice.

"You don't pick your clothes for looks." She said, looking at Hawke's spikey gauntlet.

"You don't really think my armour has this sexy fur hood for practicality do you?"

Aerith giggled before returning her attention to the task at hand. Even Hawke's peculiarities couldn't distract her from the lovely staffs surrounding her.

"So you think the one with the wings then?"

"That one will help with ice; birch wood always carries the cold splendidly." She held out a staff she had been holding behind her back. "What do you think of this one?"

It was bone white with a set of wings carved into the end, the tips of the wings pointing straight up.

"Oh Hawke it's beautiful!"

"It's made for spirit healers specifically, so you'll be even more impressive with this. It will also help with shields and force spells."

"It's so light!" Aerith exclaimed, holding it as she had seen Hawke hold her staff. She started to move it around.

"No twirling permitted inside the store." the store owner said from the counter, not even looking up from his book.

"Sorry! I think it's perfect, Hawke. It's not too much is it?"

"Don't worry about it. You're mother keeps me fed after all."

She took the staff to the counter where she placed it decisively on the desk. She was about to be the proud owner of her very own staff. She had no interest in fighting with it; she had no interest in fighting at all really. But staffs were the tools of someone magical; she liked to think the ancient Cetra wielded them, just like Hawke did. It was something she could carry that declared that she used magic without drawing attention or being strange. She was so excited.

"Will you be needing any materia to go with that, little lady?" The man behind the counter asked with a kindly smile.

"No thanks!" She smiled at him, "Just the staff please."

Hawke paid for it with a smile and then handed it to Aerith with a flourish. She spent the next five minutes trying to figure out how not to trip herself up while carrying it on her back. Finally Hawke took mercy on her and after she and the store owner stopped laughing, she gave her a few pointers and ushered her out of the shop.

They weren't three steps out the door when someone called out Aerith's name. Not a moment later Zack appeared from the crowd of passers-by.

"Aerith! I was just on my way to the church- hey! Nice staff! Brand new, huh?"

"Yup! Hawke bought it for me."

Zack suggested having lunch together in the church. Hawke politely excused herself and left, shouting back to Zack about how he better not be 'getting handsy' while she's away.

A/N: thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I'm trying to improve my writing and all comments and critiques are welcomed.

Next Time: Happy Fun Slaughter Time!