Aria awoke on a white bed, surrounded by white curtains. A machine beeped steadily behind her. Her head throbbed, but she persisted in raising it to look around the room. She was alone.
Knowing this chance would likely not come again, she put all of what little energy she had into focusing on escape. Her eyes flitted about her surroundings.
Machine, hooked to chest. IV, arm. Door to right. Once out, choose a direction and run. Left. Get to door, run left.
After three deep breaths, she unstuck the two small pads from her chest. The machine sounded a steady, though expected alarm. She clenched her teeth and pulled the IV from her arm.
Get to the door, run left.
She quickly stood and took one step before falling hard onto the floor. Numbness consumed her from the waist, down.
She sighed out a swear, rested her head on the floor, and waited.
Seconds later, a nurse rushed in and knelt beside her.
"Oh, honey, we were hoping you wouldn't try this... We had to numb you to get those bullets out," the middle-aged nurse explained. Her voice was kind, her touch gentle, as she began to help Aria up. Her kindness was unexpected, and made Aria want to cling to her. She resisted.
"Leave her," a painfully familiar voice commanded the nurse. Aria watched the scuffed black shoes walk into the room.
"Oh, sir, it would be better for her to..." the nurse started, trying to help Aria.
She was cut off. "I've got her. Leave her."
The nurse gave Aria a very quick pat on the shoulder and scurried out of the room.
"Makin' a break for it so soon?"
"Fuck off, Reno," she spat, dizziness setting in.
"Don't exert yourself with those curses. You're short on blood. And we can't afford to give you any..."
She sighed. A blood transfusion risked tainting her blood with lifestream. And if they were not giving her blood...
"Yeah, the jig is up. Big deal." Her pleas for her life had clearly compromised the little cover she had left. Penelope Marx was officially dead. The floor was cool and welcoming against the spinning of her vision.
"Oh, it is a big deal. Don't you see? Now we can answer all kinds of questions. Did you defect because of some unrequited love for the great, misunderstood General? Or do you share some genetic cause of 'crazy'? Pure Strand: is that what made you serve up the late President to Sephiroth on a silver platter? Is that what makes you so damn hard to get rid of? And can we duplicate it for our own military? Gods, wouldn't that be something? Shinra would be unstoppable."
A short laugh escaped her. "Yes, but then...you have to let me live."
"'Living' can be rather subjective. Sure, we'll keep your heart beating. Hell, you'll probably be conscious for most of it. But 'living'? Well, it's not what I would call a life. Now, come on, up you go," he said lightly, grabbing her roughly under her arms and swinging her back up onto the bed.
"That's not how it works..." she said weakly, realizing her words were in vain.
"Tell it to the doctors."
With that, he was gone. A tortured sleep came.
.
Vincent awoke on a gray bed, shop lamps blasting light onto him. He felt as though he were freezing, despite the heat of the lamps.
"Don't move, don't move, don't move," a gruff, concentrating voice told him. He remained still. Feeling returned, much to his dismay.
Shera worked diligently on removing a piece of a bullet from his left leg with a long set of forceps while Cid pinned his leg to the bed.
"Almost got it," she said calmly. He felt the metal drag back through his skin and repressed a growl.
"There it is," she announced, holding up the bloodied bullet. "You're lucky it missed your femoral artery. That could have killed you," she said, matter-of-factly.
"Thank you, Shera," he said lowly through gritted teeth.
"Oh, Vincent, you're welcome. We still have one more to go, though," she replied apologetically.
He raised his head and looked down his body. His shirt and pants had been removed. Three bandages had already been applied: one on his left bicep, one on his right shin. A cloth had been tied around his stomach to stop the bleeding from an untreated wound.
"No. It's not there. It went through," he explained hoarsely. His mouth tasted like blood.
"Damn, Vince. What the hell happened to you?" Cid asked, unwinding the cloth from the wound.
"Poor shots."
"In the sense that you're still alive, maybe. But they still shot you to shit. Who was it?" Cid persisted.
"Turks."
The room went silent. Cid sighed in agitation. Shera watched the pilot's face for an explanation.
"Yeah...I'd hoped that wasn't the case, you crazy bastard. Where is she?"
Shera began cleaning the wound on his stomach. He hissed at the sting of alcohol. She winced with him. "I'm sorry, sweetie..."
"I don't know. Edge, probably. Dead, probably," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat.
Cid furrowed his brow at the bluntness of Vincent's words.
He continued, "Pure Strand...she knows. She knows what it is, why she has it." He pushed his head back into the bed as Shera stitched his skin together.
"And how did she find this out?" Cid asked skeptically.
"The Temple. The planet spoke to her."
Shera breathed deeply, concentrating on her work despite the conversation happening over her.
"I'd like to meet this woman..." she said quietly.
"Better be packin' if you do. Trouble just seems to follow her..." Cid grumbled. Vincent did not object.
"Alright...finished. You can Cure now," Shera informed Cid.
"You ready for this? It's gonna burn like hell," Cid warned. The look on Vincent's face read, dripping with sarcasm, Are you serious?
Upon the initial burn of the Cure, Vincent closed his eyes and let his skin reform. The process was, indeed, painful, but suffering through meant walking away from a point-blank shot to the stomach. The pain was worth it.
Ten minutes later, Vincent lay patched up, catching his breath on Cid's bed. His friend sighed, ran his hand through his tousled hair, and raised an eyebrow.
"Alright, so what do we do now?" he asked, clearly volunteering for whatever Vincent planned next.
"You don't need to get involved, Cid..." he answered.
"I'm already involved. Maybe you didn't notice, but Shera and I just pieced your ass back together. You say she's worth saving, I want to find out why. What's the plan?" he said more firmly.
"They have her in Edge. They must. She's hurt. I don't know what they're planning. I don't know if they would have taken her to the hospital or not."
"Then we go to the hospital and find out. Get yer ass dressed. You got a flight to catch."
.
"Psst. Wake up, Sweetie. Wake up."
Aria jumped to consciousness and found her wrists strapped to her hospital bed.
"I'm sorry about the restraints," said the gentle nurse, "but we can't risk you falling again. You have a visitor. Do you want me to brush your hair or anything before he comes in?"
She narrowed her eyes at the nurse. "No, I'm fine."
"Okay, then. I'll just let him in, then." The nurse disappeared. Immediately after, Reno pushed the hooded figure in the white wheelchair into the room. Aria laughed and let her head fall back on her pillow.
"I get it. Resigning me to your same sorry fate," she said, staring at the ceiling.
"Not exactly," the smooth voice replied. Reno closed the door. Rufus removed his hood and stood. She stopped laughing and watched him closely.
"Your eyes are back to normal. That's good. It would have been a shame to lose those pretty eyes. They're the only thing that set you apart from the rest of those eco-terrorists with equally hollow chips on their shoulders. You've really made a mess for me, Marx. ...Aria."
"Having trouble hiring more lackeys?" she asked, her eyes shifting to Reno, who scoffed and rolled his eyes.
Rufus smiled and shook his head, pulling an empty syringe from his breast pocket. He fingered her IV before pulling back the plunger and placing the needle against her IV tubing.
"Tell me why I shouldn't let this air in your IV."
Without missing a beat, she answered, "Pure Strand. I'm your Savior. I can protect you like no one else can."
"Bullshit."
"Try it. Kill me. Sit back, watch the destruction ensue. He'll be back, you know. One way or another..."
Loaded silence filled the room. Rufus dropped the needle to his side.
"Prove it," he commanded.
"I've been proving it since I started working for your company. Why did I survive training with SOLDIER? Why did I survive your little punishment at Nibel? Why did I survive two shots to the fucking legs? She's watching over me, so that I can watch over you."
"And who exactly is she?" he asked, skeptical.
"Gaia."
"You don't believe this shit, do you?" Reno asked brashly.
Rufus raised his hand to silence Reno. "And did Gaia send Valentine to help you?"
"I don't know. But he did come, and I did live on a little longer, didn't I? And as a result, you've had peace."
"You call losing twenty men in one day 'peace'?" he asked, glaring at her through one icy blue eye.
"Maybe not from me, but someone else sure has been quiet."
He shook his head in frustration, as if to say, "out with it."
"Jenova."
Rufus and Reno both laughed. "You're insane," Reno uttered through a dismissive chuckle.
"Maybe. But as long as you have that specimen on the planet...you, and the citizens of the planet are not safe. It will spread itself across the population as a disease. Then, worse. If I die...he will return."
"You both lived at the same time before. You certainly never seemed bent on stopping him then."
She sighed. "No. I was not on the right side of that battle. But I outlived him. I am stronger now. I have proven myself. And I'm the only one that can stop him from coming back."
"How?" Rufus asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.
"I don't have the lifestream in me. I am not susceptible to any of the effects Jenova has on humans. It attacks and takes over through a person's lifestream, clouding thought and judgment, taking over from the stream, from the soul...and working toward the surface."
"And since you don't have a soul..." Reno joked, dismissing her claims.
"No. I have a soul of my own. When I was made, I didn't need the lifestream. I was created to protect it."
More silence. Rufus finally made eye contact with her. "So what do you suggest we do in this little predicament?"
"Break it down. Compact what's left of Jenova. Inject it into me. My body can contain it."
"And when you go batshit crazy like the rest of them?" Reno asked.
"Then you can kill me."
"No," Rufus interjected. "We'll run tests in the lab. We'll run a simulation with blood samples to see what will happen. If your samples die..." Rufus trailed off, insinuatingly.
She nodded, seeing no other option. "Fair enough."
"What of this disease?"
"Geostigma. It's too late. It's already begun. I'm sorry," she said, then cursed herself for apologizing to him. The words seemed to strike the president just as strongly.
"Why should I trust that you won't kill me? We've wanted one another dead for a while now..." he noted.
"You're rebuilding. The reactors are down. You're..." she was at a loss for words.
"Atoning," he finished the thought for her. In response, she nodded.
"If you can make things right with your citizens, I can keep things right with the planet."
Reno shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Alright, what about Valentine? If he survived...whatever that was...he'll be here in no time. You know that."
"Let him come. You'll explain what's happening here, right?" he addressed Aria.
She nodded.
"When he comes," Rufus said lightly, "thank him for the gun." He reached into his jacket and pulled out the Buntline. Her heart felt as though it skipped a beat at the sight. "It's a charming addition to my collection."
"Where did you..." she asked, trailing off at the sight of the golden weapon.
Reno cleared his throat. "You really didn't know? Some Turk. He was in Costa del Sol, Sugar. He, and that gun, is the reason you made it to the Temple at all."
Suddenly, she was exhausted. Sleep seemed a welcome escape from the conversation. She closed her eyes, and did not see Rufus wave Reno out of the room.
Her eyes opened at cool fingers brushing against her skin. Rufus was unbuckling the restraints on her wrists. He noticed her confusion.
"Well, you can't run, anyway. Penelope...Aria," he corrected, "I'm sorry for the way things have turned out."
Images of her lifeless family flashed into her mind. She shook them off and looked away from his face.
He continued, "I have no logical reason to trust you. None. I will anyway. I have known you longer than anyone else around now. I know you're a capable woman."
Aria finally met his eyes. "And? Where is the threat?"
"No threat. You know what we'll do if you go astray again. But you won't," he answered, shocking her with his sincerity. "It's good to have you back," he said, touching her hand before standing and knocking three times on the door.
Reno reentered, Rufus reclaimed his place in the white wheelchair, and covered his head once again. Just before exiting, Reno shot Aria a razor sharp glare.