Chapter Eleven

Not a Hero

I'm just a man, I'm not a hero

Cloud was scared. His heart thumped and he felt a terror that gripped his body mind and soul. The chair turned, and he saw himself in the mirror.

His mouth opened in horror.

Deja veux was a bitch.

They had given him a blonde wig that had sultry hair that cascaded in loose curls around his shoulders. Blue eyes stared out from long, faux lashes of feathery blonde color. Staring at his own reflection, he gingerly touched his face. His eye makeup was done professionally making his blue eyes intense and the illusion that they were slanted and more feminine then they were. It drew attention away from his more masculine features, like his jaw line (although it wasn't a far shot from disguising as feminine). At his shock, the women around him started laughing in a self satisfied way. Then, he stood and looked at the dress they'd stuffed him in. It was blue, to match his eyes and makeup, and had wide set spaghetti straps that somehow managed to make his shoulders appear smaller, less wide and more feminine. They'd stuffed him into some body shaping contraption that stopped below his chest. It made his stomach smaller than he thought possible, tucking it in the make a definitive waistline. It had padding to make it look as though he had hips, albeit narrow ones. But what was above the body shaper was more interesting. Somehow they'd gotten a hold of attachable boobs – not real ones, of course, but extremely life like. Unbelieving, he poked one, and shut his eyes.

"Don't get too excited," one of the girls cooed, and they all laughed.

He couldn't laugh. They were large, but not enough to compare to these girls or Tifa, for that matter.

"You see," Hooters had explained as she took out an object, and Cloud kept his eyes shut tight for the makeup artists. "You can't make these too big," he had no clue what she was talking about, "or they won't stay on. Taking these off is going to be a bitch, boy, 'cause you use a special glue to glue these suckers on.."

He grimaced at the blue strapless bra, feeling extremely violated. The blue dress's neckline was V cut, exposing some of his false boobs, and it had a few tasteful sparkly-things, whatever you called them. The mirror was full length, and the dress went down to his ankles. He wore blue high heels, but not too tall, since though he was short for a man, he was tall for a woman. Afraid of what he would see, because he could still remember the blinding pain, he lifted the dress. Sure enough, his muscular calves were as smooth as stones in a river. Looking aghast (even Aeris hadn't gone so far) he remembered the pain.

He'd take a strike with the Masamune before getting his legs waxed again.

The girls had laughed at him, teasing him about a legendary hero being such a little baby. You see, he hadn't really done it. Not really. His eyes had watered a bit.

But he certainly hadn't cried.

No. He hadn't.

He just had a little dust in his eyes.

Damn it.

Staring at himself, he almost swore he saw Rude's mouth twitching into a smile. Figuring it was an illusion of the mirror, he whipped around, and sure enough, Rude was as serious as ever. Rude's friend with the Hooters shirt grinned mischievously and walked around behind him, standing on tiptoes to look over his shoulder and place her hands on his shoulders. "God, Strife." She said, revealing she did know who he was. "You're a babe!"

And most unfortunately, she was right.

The storm had passed, and she fetched Blur from the stables. She was bundled up to an unrecognizable degree. She wore five layers of long sleeved shirts, and over that her blue down coat. A warm white scarf wrapped around her neck and up around her nose. Blue tinted goggles with a white rim covered her eyes, and a white and blue hat covered her head and ears. She wore many layers of pants, plus snowpants and boots. Layers of socks under the boots, and gloves. Hot pads across her stomach, hands and feet. She was ready. Unfortunately, all this made it a bitch to climb on blur, and she didn't even want to think about close range battle. Her gun was in close reach, but she hated to think of what might happen. Hopefully she could outrun anything on Blur.

But she was ready. She saw the man from before (what was his name?) emerge from the chocobo business and nod at her as she trotted out of town on Blur. Trotting out of the town, the chocobo's talons were immediately buried in fresh, powdery snow. She was thankful for her layers and preparation, the cold not yet biting her – sweating would be a problem, maybe leading to overheating, but hopefully not. She led Blur into a trot outside of town, riding to the top of a hill.

As Blur came to the top, the Northern Continent stretched out in front of her. She only had eyes, however, for one place.

The Northern Crater.

If she didn't find what she was looking for there, it was the long way to the City of the Ancients, since she wanted to avoid the Sleeping Forest.

White blanketed as far as she could see, and just a speck of blue and black, like a bruise on the landscape, Elena urged Blur forward.

They had a long way to go.

The hand over her mouth pulled her close, pressing her back up against a body that was obviously taller than her and more muscular, apparently. Her hands flew up and nails dug into the crescent at the base of the nails. A muffled curse came from behind her and the hand came off. She whirled around and already had a knife in her hand by the time her eyes met a pair of aquamarine ones. Yuffie's eyes narrowed and glared, and she lowered the knife. There he was, fiery red-headed, frighteningly bright eyed and sucking on his fingers. The arm around her waist hadn't left, just slid to the back, letting her know that it hadn't been her efforts that had set her mouth free. It let her know that he was not as weak as he played he was, that he wouldn't have let go if he hadn't wanted to. "Reno!" she hissed. He smirked, fingers still in his mouth as he withdrew them and gave her a head nod, smirk spreading across his face.

"The one and only."

"Leviathan." She glared, her heart pounding and hands sweaty. Her ego was taking quite a blow at the moment.

Reno looked at her curiously. "You didn't even hear me, did you?" His curiosity was giving way to a triumph, a glint that she didn't like.

She glared.

"Well well. I snuck up on the greatest ninja ever."

"I was off guard."

"The great ninja, off guard?"

She scowled, not saying anything because he was right. Off guard was death in ninja-land, and Yuffie probably still had bumps on her head from getting rapped with a staff at random times during the day. Ninja training was a bitch. But reluctantly, though with a flourish, she stepped aside.

Even Reno, Turk who'd seen so many dead bodies, took a step back. He grimaced and waved his hand in front of his nose, as though fanning the area around his nose would improve the stench. "Fuck that's nasty."

"Reno." She said, voice laden with contempt. Yuffie threw in an eye roll, just for effect. "It's recent. No one but Vincent should have been in this mansion for a long time. And there's more, too."

Reno twirled his nightstick lazily. "So your vamp likes to dissect people."

"Mhm. Because that would be Vin's hobby, after getting dissected himself."

"Hey. He got hooked."

Yuffie rolled her eyes. Reno took it as a cue to say something worthwhile.

"So what you're saying is that some people have been in Hojo's old labs."

"No." Yuffie said. "These are sick. This is grossness to the maximum-supremeo. This is the work of ShinRa scientists. Or a ShinRa scientist…"

Reno caught on, and his eyes widened. "Hold up. You're saying Hojo isn't dead?"

Yuffie shook her head. It was too much to wrap her mind around, especially with the body hovering on the edges of their conversation, and that door leading to the other rooms scratching at her mind. Then, as she thought of something, her brow furrowed and, before he even answered, she found her face heating with anger. She looked up at Reno, a slight edge to her voice. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Reno frowned.

Yuffie felt her suspicion rising. "You should be on Mideel right now, and if not in Mideel on Goblin and or Round Island." More blood rushed to her face, anger increasing. "What's up?" she demanded.

Reno shrugged lazily, still turning the nightstick over in his hand. "Hey there Princess, calm down. The President is still our boss. He told Rude to follow you. He traveled separately."

Yuffie's frown turned into an angry pursing of lips. "That doesn't explain what you're doing here."

Reno held his hands up in front of him, lazily in surrender. "Whoa, whoa there. Alright, well when you got in that car crash, Rude couldn't be right behind you on that road. By the time he caught up…well, you were gone and Strife was all mashed up in the car."

Yuffie swore her heart stopped, her blood stopped pumping. She froze with every muscle and tendon down to her toes tightening. "…And…Cloud?"

"Rude hauled him out. Called me in. Your boy's fine. Banged up, sure, broken ribs, sure, but fine? Yea."

Yuffie's eyes churned like storm clouds. "He betrayed me. Us." She said.

Reno shrugged. "That's life."

Yuffie looked up. "Maybe where you come from."

Reno laughed, more like a bark, a bitter release of breath. "Right, babe, you come from Wutai. Honor and all that shit. Well you ain't in Wutai anymore, babe. In the slums, where I'm from, you do what you need to do so that you survive. You don't give a flying fuck about anyone else, because in the end, it gets you killed. If you're given the choice to save your mama and two baby siblings or yourself, you choose yourself. There ain't no such thing as honor and glory in the slums."

Reno leaned in, eyes intense and trained on her stubborn grays. "And guess what? You're living my life now, doll, because living in the slums is survival, plain and true. There ain't no such thing as honor and glory anymore, Princess, 'cause we're in the wild now."

Grey eyes met aquamarine orbs stonily, and the air between them seemed about to crackle with the heat traveling. She sneered and yanked away, face setting in anger and determination.

"The rest of the world can live like savages, but I'm not going to be them. I'm not going to be them, because look what happened. I'm not going to be them, Reno." She looked up, eyes harsh. "I'm not going to be you."

He glared at her. The tension in the room was thick enough to skate on.

"Always the the hero, huh?" Reno growled. "Well I ain't a hero, babe, and by the end of this, you ain't gonna be either."

They glared at each other, increasing the tension until it was hard to breathe for the thickness in the air.

"So are we gonna figure out where this door goes or what?" He finally said, but rather than cracking the tension, it poured another layer of thickness to the air.

Turning, she lifted her head and strode towards the door, Reno a shadow behind her. Reaching out, she pulled open the door and walked into the blackness, weapon at the ready, reaching out for a light switch. Reno came in behind her, keeping the door open to keep any remaining light in and reveal any possible enemies.

Yuffie flicked the switch.

The lights came to life with a low hum, buzzing as they flickered ever so subtly. The lights cast eerie shadows dancing across the walls. Yuffie's brow furrowed as she looked around.

They were in a room that reminded her of a submarine, because the walls and floor and ceiling were all metal. And all along the long wall in front of her were large circular doors, tall enough to fit Reno sitting on Rude's shoulders with room to spare. The doors curved out, metal and reminding her of the pods at the Nibelheim reactor. Walking up to one, she read the print stamped across in red.

"Midgar…" she said, and realized where this was going. She looked at the next one over, and knew she was right. "Junon…" she read.

The other doors said Costa de Sol, Mideel, Icicle Inn, Kalm, Gongaga, Goblin Island and Round Island.

"No way…" Reno said, looking at the wall. "These can't lead all the way to these places…"

"There were transport tunnels from Midgar out…" Yuffie said. "God, it must be a long distance, but tons more direct than going by land. Plus, transporting patients or certain items…it must have been most convenient."

Yuffie noticed, with a smirk, there was no tunnel going to Wutai.

And Reno just leaned against the wall behind her, watching her every move.

Something flickered in her mind, and she frowned, but suddenly her lips curved upwards. In a move like a flash, Yuffie abruptly turned around pressed a blade to Reno's throat. "You never explained why I'm being followed."

Reno just looked her straight in the face, almost amused. "You're not going to kill me," he finally said. "Especially not by slitting my throat."

The almost singsong way he said the last part caught Yuffie. She regarded him carefully.

"That's right, Princess," he said, voice husky but gloating. "I know why you never show your neck - or at least that part. Never wear a non-turtleneck without a choker or makeup, I'm told."

She touched the choker at her neck.

"I saw a picture. It really isn't all that noticeable, just like another line on your neck."

She had stepped back, but she rammed him up against the wall. "You," she growled, "have no business knowing that."

Reno smirked. "But I do, Princess, and there ain't a thing you can do about it."

"How did you find out?" she demanded.

"Files, Princess, files. I looked for ones with your name on it after that Auhncore plant accused you in public, and came across a medical report."

Yuffie noticeably relaxed. "What was…in it?" she asked, carefully.

"Your injury and recovery." He seemed to read her mind. "But not how it happened." Reno looked a little peeved.

Yuffie smirked. "Alright Turk, here's how it's gonna play. You're going to take this tunnel right on over to Mideel, and you aren't going to follow me anymore - no one is. Or I'll lose you so fast all you'll have to remember me is a sneeze from the dust I kicked up."

Reno shrugged. "Fine."

"And I'm going to keep searching the Continent."

"Going to one of these tunnels?"

Yuffie shook her head. "No…" she said, and looked up. "I have another place in mind."

Cloud had wanted to leave, but no. They had to be satisfied that he could walk, talk, flirt, laugh, giggle and gossip like a woman. And now, when Hooters and her friends crowded the doorway, waving, Cloud felt like he was going to drop dead of shame and embarrassment right there. Of course, you couldn't walk out in the slums in the dress he'd been wearing, for it would get dirty and you were immediately a suspicious character and a target for theft, rape, etc. He flicked his long blonde hair behind his shoulder, a habit they'd managed to install him with in a mere four hours. So, they'd dressed him like many gorgeous women in the slums dressed like; a whore. He wore stilettos, fishnets that somehow managed to make his legs look less...manly, an itsy bitsy barely-covered-his ass black skirt and a red tank top with a v neckline that made his fake-boobs pop out.

He was dying, or he better be.

On Rude's arm, he glared with all the fervor he could muster at Rude. "Now why the hell am I dressed like this?" he hissed.

Rude paused, but for once, he answered. "There is a woman."

Cloud glared. "Me or someone else?" he asked sarcastically.

Rude didn't respond. "When she was a teenager, fifteen years old, she was raped. That women is now the Head of the Information Branch at Auhncore."

"And why should I care?"

Rude didn't acknowledge him. "The Information Branch isn't nearly as innocent as it sounds. It uses whatever it needs to get its information, and even makes use of people with moral standards rather like the Turks. This woman knows everything Top Secret, everything she can be bothered with. Everything she can cram in, just as she does the so many file cabinets, she stores in her mind. And it just so happens she had some information that we need."

"Who is 'we'?" Cloud demanded, immediately suspicious.

Rude did not answer.

"Who is 'we'?"

"You will thank me."

"So I fail to see why I'm dressed up as a woman."

Rude didn't look over. "She was raped at fifteen. She hasn't trusted men since. Not completely. She can work under them, she can work with them, she can be their boss, and she can even manage to respect some of them. But trust is hard earned, and there are very few men who have it from her. Very few."

Cloud saw where the story was going. "So you want to use woman me to get this information?"

"Yes. But it is not that simple. Man or no, her trust is hard earned - just something closer to possible for women. You are going to get to know her, get to be her friend enough that she invites you to one of her 'woman's nights' which are like parties, minus the men. Much like a grown up sleepover."

"Why can't you just sneak in?"

"She keeps a copy of every file below her house. Auhncore underground tunnels lead there, since her house is in one of the cleared Sectors, Number Three, which has become the Sector of the rich and famous."

"And how am I supposed to become friends with her overnight?"

Rude looked up. "Not overnight. But we have studied her. We know the qualities of her best of friends, what she would be sympathetic to, what she is suspicious of, what makes her hate you."

"And?"

"For starters, you are a rape victim. But you are not upfront about this. You are a subdued flirt, one in the past before your rape, now just one who eyes men from very far and gives the occasional smile or wave. You do not come out to her about this. She will ask you, eventually, curious to your odd, contradictory behavior towards men. You will be evasive, but she will pull it out of you.

"You will be loyal. You will offer to help, and be punctual - being early would be seen to her as trying to hard, and be witty and only slightly sarcastic."

Cloud's head spun.

"Your name is Nichole - Nikki - Bennett, and you will meet her in four days at an Auhncore Ball. You will be accompanying a rich young man who applied to the escort service of the Honeybee Inn."

"Wait. Why would a rape victim be an escort?"

"He ended up speaking to my friend back there, who set him up with a well-off girl moving to Midgar from Mideel. Not an escort."

Cloud shrugged. "Farfetched."

"And Rude?"

The man looked over, sunglasses still on.

"I'll never forgive you."

Rude actually smirked. "I know."

Cloud glared, eyes narrowed. "I hate you."

"I don't see why," Rude was all seriousness again, staring straight ahead though a hint of a smirk played around the corner of his mouth, "You've done it before."

"Cid?" A tired, groggy voice came.

Cid whirled around to see Shera, wearing an overlarge tee-shirt as her nightclothes pad into the kitchen, feet clad in mismatching socks. The shirt, he saw, had a faded 'ShinRa Space Program' logo with a rocket and the sky and stars stretching overhead. His heartstrings were tugged at, but for once, it wasn't because of the memory of his lost dream.

"Shera," he said, freezing.

Then, as her sleep induced stupor wore off, her eyes widened. "Cid!" she exclaimed and ran at him, and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her to him tightly, and he shut his eyes tight, pain that wasn't physical lining his face. She let go and gently, he pressed his lips to hers.

They hadn't landed in Midgar immediately. They all said they wanted to stay, to help, but they had things to do, business to settle. So Cid flew them around, Yuffie to Wutai to bury the hatchet with her father, Vincent to Nibelheim where he disappeared, and just as they were losing hope, he reemerged. He didn't tell anyone what he'd done, but later Yuffie (for some odd reason, he talked to the brat) told them he smelled like smoke and had wood splinters in the crevice of his shoes. He'd finally confessed. He'd destroyed the coffin. He was hiding something else, however, because Cid had seen him leaving the mansion on chocobo and heading for a certain cave. But he'd said nothing. Barret had been taken to Kalm, where he greeted his daughter in tears, though he later denied it furiously. The tears at least. Nanaki went to Cosmo Canyon, where he performed a proper funeral for Bugenhagen. Tifa and Cloud, however, had nothing, no where. Floating, lost, but Cid wasn't. He'd gone to Rocket Town where Shera had come outside to greet him, and he'd kissed her.

And proposed.

Now she wore a little ring on her left ring finger.

He grabbed her left hand. He wasn't much sentimental, but he looked at the ring, and frowned.

She saw his frown and her lips turned down.

"I heard…I saw on the news…" her brow was creased in worry.

"You weren't supposed to wake up." He told her and shook his head. He flicked a cigarette into his mouth and toyed with it.

Shera looked at him supiciously, eyes narrowing. "So what were you doing?"

He heaved a sigh. "I was leaving, Sher."

She stared.

"I can't stay, Shera. I'm a wanted man now. I just came to get some stuff I needed and go into hiding and figured it'd be best if you didn't-"

But he didn't finish, because a resounding slap filled the room.

It was the first time Shera had ever shown anger towards him. He looked at her shocked and touching his red cheek, incredulous.

Her eyes were alight with rage, her cheeks flushed with anger and she was shaking with the intensity of it. All these years and he realized he'd never seen the meek Shera so angry, never seen the brilliant woman angry at all. Even all the ways he verbally abused her, punishing her by making her an unpaid servant, punishing her for spoiling his dream when she was really saving his life. Tank Number Eight.

"You think that?" she exploded, furious. "You think it would have been better if I never had seen you? You think that…you think that it would be best for me?"

She was furious.

And Cid, incredulously, found himself thinking that she was hot when she was angry.

"You didn't think that, Cid High wind, if you even thought. You think that it would have been better for me to wake up to find all your stuff gone and just a news story of how they want you dead? Is that what you thought?"

Cid frowned.

"Maybe I didn't." he admitted. "Maybe I just thought…If I saw you…"

Her rage was melting, but her cheeks were still flushed and her eyes still fierce.

"I wouldn't have the strength to leave you again."

And the rage was gone, melted, and she was meek and she was beautiful and her eyes were welling but he couldn't see them fall because he wouldn't be able to turn around again.

"I need to tell you something-" she said, but he shook his head.

"Naw. Don't say it, don't say anything more, Sher, cause if you do, I don't think I could leave."

"But-" she said, and her eyes were full of urgency. But he shook his head.

"Please, Sher," he said, and she looked shocked.

He'd never said please to her.

Never.

"Now I haven't given you half of what you deserve," he said, "But I will marry you one day, I promise you that."

She pressed her lips together, a nervous tick. "Promise?" she asked, all meek and mouse and gentle.

"Sure as hell."

"Surer than hell, Cid, cause that ain't so sure at all." She said.

That was the first time she'd strayed from her formal speech. He couldn't help but stare at her and grin. He laughed.

"Well fuck, woman, you drive a hard bargain. Sure as the sky is blue and sure as that fucking Tank Number Eight was screwy."

She smiled. "That's better."

So he walked around the house and gathered what he needed, and she stood in her socks and overlarge tee-shirt and demurely picked at the hem. Finally, he had what he needed. Cid wasn't much for sentimental goodbyes, so he walked to the door and opened it. He couldn't look back, and he couldn't say anything, because there was a lump in his throat and her gaze on his back and he knew she understood.

So he walked straight out that door, and he got in his airship that he knew he wouldn't be able to use much longer, and he looked back at that little house.

"See you in another life." he said and the airship rose into the air.

They were here again.

She heard them ripping through the house, destroying everything, anything for a clue, for something about him, something about her. Now she heard her heart pound in her chest, thinking that maybe one of the men paused, paused and swore they heard a heart beating, like in Poe's The Telltale Heart. But while she may entertain a notion of two from time to time, she scolded herself. This was not the time for this. But this room she sat in, curled up, hardly made her feel comfortable. It was not too small, about the size of an average sized bathroom. But all around was metal, sheets of metal forming this box. One wall had been turned into a pantry, with doors that opened to shelves of canned food and other substances that wouldn't rot. There was also tons of water, and even a tap coming from the wall that could be used. A corner with a showerhead was the shower, with harsh water intended to scour you clean. First it would douse you in a harsh soap that doubled as shampoo (not well, though) and then it would spray the harsh water on, all left to swirl to the drain right below the shower. She could only speculate why it was there. Otherwise, the room was unfurnished, leaving her curled on the cold floor.

She knew she wouldn't be able to stay here longer. They were coming even more frequently now, suspicious, for she had not taken effort to hide that she was living here. They knew she was alive, and they knew. They knew, and that was dangerous, and they wanted her. So now she would have to leave it, this house she had spent years in, forming bad memories and good. And she would miss it, for the tools and metal and equipment scattered hap hazardously around, miss it for that scent of tea and grease that always hung in the air, miss it because most of all, it was his and it was hers.

But now it was dangerous and she would have to leave all that behind to protect them. And she shook as she stood and her knees nearly gave out, but she waddled weakly over to the pantry and loaded up her rucksack with tons of water and plenty of food and she was shaking all over because she was not him, she was not them. She was not a hero.

But she heard them banging above, heard them from her secret place under the washing machine and she faced that giant hatch door in the wall and she turned it and she swung it open and finally faced that door and finally faced that passage she never dare step in and she finally faced that darkness and she finally let it devour her as she stepped up and in.

Because Shera was no hero.

But now, for once, she had to be.

A/N:Hey! I'm back, and sorry for such a long wait! I only just got slightly ahead of this chapter, but figured it would be cruel to keep you waiting. Short chapter, not my favorite, lots of dialogue and plan making, except the last part.

Here, we discover that our mystery assailaint was none other than Reno. Shocker, I know. And so very anti-climatic, too.

About the Title: Very simply that this chapter features our non-heroes of the story, Shera and even Reno, and that heroes aren't always wearing shining armor. No, sometimes they wear drag. With fake boobs. So they aren't heroes, or they aren't the heroes they thought they were, and that heroes don't always feel like one.

About the Quote: Changed this. Pretty self explanatory. Just fits with the theme of the chapter. Yes, My Chemical Romance, Welcome to the Black Parade. Guilty as charged.

I like the end of this chapter, the parts with Cloud and Rude, and Yuffie and Reno are pretty much transition scenes. Sort of. Cloud and Rude set the scene for Cloud's 'mission,' of sorts, which actually does have a purpose beyond dressing Cloud up as a woman. I swear! Anyway, we also discover that Yuffie doesn't like to show her neck. Hmm? Any guesses?

Well, leave your thoughts, comments, and I'll try not to make ya'll wait so long for the next update!

.Kit.Kat.

P.s. - I changed the quote! It fits.