Ballad of a Dove

Chapter 21 - Monster

by The Secret SOLDIER

Genesis. Zack hadn't thought of the red-haired man since their last showdown in the cave at Banora. Why was he dreaming of him now? He knew it was a dream, he could feel the ground under him as he slept, but something simultaneously seemed real about it. Genesis beckoned, and Zack found himself back in the cave, walking across the stony floor once again, as if to reenact their last battle. But instead of attacking, the crimson SOLDIER stood facing him, his huge black wing swaying slightly behind him.

Why a wing? Zack wondered. Of all things, why only a single wing?

His shoulder was wounded. The mako infected the wound and caused massive cellular growth.

Genesis faded and was replaced by Angeal standing on the balcony where he'd revealed his wing. Stark white exploded outward, showering Zack in feathers. Angel wings. Monster wings. No. Just because someone looked different on the outside didn't mean they were any different inside. The heart was what mattered, heart and mind and soul. But Jenova cells affected the mind. Once they took over, the person was no longer the same. The wing was only an outward manifestation of the inner changes.

Zack's own left shoulder itched and throbbed. There was a scar there from the bullet he'd taken while trying to pull Cloud away from that deathtrap in the Wastes. He'd been saturated in mako for years before that and unlike Cloud, he'd never had the opportunity to change his uniform. That was a bad combination of coincidences for him.

Why did his shoulder itch so?

Zack awoke with a start, his body tingling with the sensations left over from his dream. But the feeling didn't fade with consciousness and his back and left arm burned with the acidic heat of mako.

The fire was nearly dead, just a pile of glowing embers. Across it, Tseng was slumped upright but asleep against a tree; Tifa was curled up in her fur blanket an arm's-length from Zack. The wind had picked up while they'd slept and it cut harshly through the sparse forest. The SOLDIER stood up, his heart inexplicably pounding, and he realized he was sweating and shaking. He had to get away.

Without thought, without questioning why or whether it was a good idea, he took off into the trees. The dark meant nothing to his enhanced vision so he ran as fast as he would have in daylight, dodging trees and leaping fallen logs. He turned his path into a wide circle - he didn't want to end up too far from camp - and ran until his breath wheezed in his throat and his legs trembled with exhaustion. He wasn't far from camp, but instead of going back there, he stumbled toward the sound of open sky, the wind rushing freely.

The pines stopped abruptly and a rocky outcropping stretched before him, long and wide, a peninsula of the earth jutting out hundreds of feet above the tundra valley below. Gaea's Cliff was visible as a thread of white on the distant northern edge of the expanse. Zack stepped out into the open, avoiding boulders and ripples of rock, and immediately felt the wind beating down on him, sweeping downwards and outwards in a gale blowing due north. Already huge thunderheads were forming over the Cliff.

Zack walked to the edge and looked down. There wasn't even a cliff-face there, just nothing, as the rock had been undercut; the promontory was in the shape of a huge finger pointing unmistakably north, and he was right on the tip. The danger didn't faze him; the wind ripping at his hair and shirt and urging him forward didn't make him pull back as he gazed down into the darkness below.

What's it like to fall? To fly?

Zack stepped back, looking around wildly, suddenly aware of where he was. He would never have come to this place of his own accord; something clearly wasn't right. It was taking over him. He'd watched it take over Genesis and Angeal and Sephiroth - it only stood to reason that he was next. Who would have ever thought that the great SOLDIERs could be taken down so easily by a little mocking voice inside their head?

Turning away from the tempting expanse, he started to run, this time back toward the camp, a staggering run as a blind fear took hold of him. He was almost to the dark wall of trees when pain exploded across his back. He dropped into a roll, dodging any further bullets, until it dawned on him that he hadn't heard a gunshot. His evasive roll turned into more of a face-plant and he let himself lie on his stomach and gasp for air as his heart pounded and his back burned.

Zack gritted his teeth and forced himself to concentrate. As the initial agony subsided, the pain became more localized and he realized it was centered around his left shoulder blade with tendrils of nerves streaming sensations down his arm and back. No bullet wound felt like that. It felt like...like...oh, Gaia, NO! Not caring that it would wake the two in the camp, Zack let out a yell of fear and desperation. This just couldn't be happening to him! He could watch the nightmare as it happened to his friends, he could watch as Angeal turned into a monster and tried to kill him — but this, where he himself was the monster, how was he to endure it?

Horrified, unwilling, he lifted his head and turned it sideways on the ground. He knew what he was expecting, a swath of bloody feathers laid out alongside his own body, an alien weight dragging him down... Nothing was visible. The pain was there, a queer feeling of pressure and the firing of newborn nerves, but nothing else.

Cautiously, Zack pushed himself up on hands and knees, wincing as he felt the skin split further along his back. He reached his right hand over his shoulder, fingers recoiling from an unfamiliar shape protruding from his left side. A wing, no doubt. He gritted his teeth. He would not cry out, he would not weep.

Continuing to assess his new appendage, he ran his hand down the length of it and was surprised by how short it was. He craned his head around and managed to catch a glimpse in the moonlight of silver-gray downy feathers speckled with blood. It was almost laughable. He had a wing like a baby chocobo. The pinions weren't formed yet, just a soft gray fluff quickly drying in the wind. Extended, it was barely as long as his arm, although at the moment it was folded up tightly against his back.

Zack slowly lowered himself back onto the ground. What in the Seven Hells was he supposed to do now? He was a monster as surely as Sephiroth ever was. He remembered what he had told Genesis so many years ago. 'You're not a monster. You're SOLDIER!' Now he understood why the redhead had laughed at him. Nothing anyone said could erase the horror; he was truly alone now, the only one of his kind. A small, very small, part of him wanted to go crawling back to camp, to see the pity in Tseng's eyes as he raised his gun to rid the world of an abomination. Half-human, half-Jenova. Probably less than half human, considering all the mako rushing through his veins.

What would Aerith think of him now? She had been remarkably accepting of the Angeal-clone's presence in her church, but then, that had only been a winged dog. How would she feel about him? More importantly, how did he feel about himself? He was still reeling from the shock, still somewhat in denial of it all. Any moment, he would wake up back in the camp with a root or rock pressing into his shoulder, and he could laugh at this fear.

But he didn't wake up. As he staggered back to his feet, his wing twitched and extended fully, throwing him momentarily off balance. He stood to his full height and screamed curses at the sky, shaking his fists at the biting wind while helpless tears streamed down his face. Of all the people he'd ever lost, he'd never imagined he'd lose himself. Because he clearly was someone else now, no longer the enthusiastic Second who'd trained under Angeal, no longer even the determinedly optimistic ex-First who'd survived against the odds and rescued Cloud from Shinra's clutches. All that was left were pieces, shattered fragments that were barely human. And above all, murmuring in a facade of comfort, was the Voice.

My son, my son. I embrace you. Welcome to my family. Now you are one of mine and I am yours, inseparable forever. Our motives are the same. You wish for your lover. I, too, wish for you to find her — for she carries your child, who is my child too.

"Shut up!" Zack yelled aloud, all his emotions showing in his straining voice. "Leave me alone! What do you want?"

Want? I want nothing you do not want. But tell me, my son, how long has it been since you last saw your lover? How badly do you want to see her again, to love her again? I have been with you always; I see your dreams; late at night, I see how you touch yourself and your lips form her name. I know how you want her.

He fell to his knees, hands on his head as if to shield it from a blow. "Get out," he whispered, pleading. "You don't love her. Stop talking about her."

But I do love her. For she could carry your child; she could continue my legacy. However, for lack of her presence, why not take someone else? You can close your eyes and see your lover, and I can gain what I need.

"I don't love anyone else. I love Aerith, and she's the only one I'm interested in."

Are you sure? Look around...maybe I can change your mind...

"Zack? Zack, where are you - oh. Oh!" Tifa's voice reached his ears as she came through the trees. His cries must have awakened the camp and now they were out looking for him. Why couldn't they just leave him be?

He looked up to see her standing just on the edge of the rocky clearing. Her hands were over her mouth and her ruby eyes were wide, staring at him as if he was an apparition from her darkest nightmare. Which, he thought, might well be the case.

Not trusting his legs to hold him up, Zack remained kneeling on the ground. He felt the damned wing draw closer to him in instinct, although the last thing his conscious mind wanted was to be close to the thing. Blood trickled thickly down his back from the torn skin. "Tifa..." His voice was a croak and he wet his lips, tried again. "Tifa, please don't run." Please don't look at me like that. Don't say 'monster.'

Her hands slowly crept down from her face and her eyes welled with tears. "Zack...what happened?"

"Come here, please. Help me. I don't know what's going on. It hurts..." The words were true, but Zack didn't want to say them. The Voice urged him on, guiding his thoughts, preying on his pain and fear, luring Tifa closer. Zack tried to warn her back but his throat closed and he couldn't control his own body.

Tifa hesitantly took a step toward him. It was clear she wanted to help. Her gentle nature wouldn't let her walk away from someone hurt, someone begging for help. The monster had baited the trap well.

"You have...a wing." She approached him from the side and he didn't move, letting her have as good as look at it as she could stand. Her gaze dropped to the ground and abruptly she knelt in front of him, soft hands on his arms. "I don't know what to say. What do I do?"

Hearing those words, Zack's heart died a little inside. What right did he have to drag her into this nightmare? But then, it wasn't as if he had any choice. 'Zack', the human part of him, was now a helpless observer, imprisoned somewhere just behind his eyes so he could see everything but do nothing. He watched as his hand reached Tifa's shoulder, slid to cradle her chin and cheek, and tilted her face up toward his.

"You don't have to do anything, little one," said Zack's voice. His grip moved to her hair, using it to pull her to the ground suddenly as in a single move he straddled her hips.

She opened her mouth to scream, but swiftly Zack covered her lips with his, pressing his tongue so deep into her mouth that the scream was choked in her throat. Tifa closed her teeth, biting hard, but he'd sensed it coming and had withdrawn his tongue. He considered ripping off her shirt and stuffing it into her mouth, but he wanted her taste, needed her taste, so he settled for wrapping his hand around her throat and tightening every time she tried to cry out.

Tifa soon stopped trying to scream, but the fight was far from over. Even from his trapped position in his own mind, Zack couldn't help but admire her spirit, that was willing to wrestle with a SOLDIER. But she was inevitably defeated as his body slammed her into the ground, her head thudding against the rocky soil. He watched her eyes go unfocussed as her hands slipped numbly from his arms, and she sobbed quietly as he tore her clothes from her.

Any man would have paused to take in her naked body, all white skin and smooth curves and helpless under him, but Zack was driven by a force not at all human. To him, to Jenova, all that mattered was that here was a useable vessel for his offspring, a way to spread the cells farther and thus keep Mother alive.

Not bothering to remove his shirt, Zack jerked his belts from his waist and slid his pants down. Tifa began struggling again, but she was no match for his strength as he pinned her down. She cried out once before he again choked her mouth with his tongue. One hand rested on her still-clothed breasts and the other held her hips immobilized as he used his knees to force her thighs apart. Her body arched up, twisting, a last effort to break free, but he squeezed her breast until she stiffened in pain. Lying down, he crushed the breath from her with his weight as he balanced atop her, lining up their bodies. Zack rocked forward, feeling her entrance resist him; he applied more force, felt her tear around him, and then he was inside. Tears trickled down her face to where their lips were forcibly joined.

Zack thrust into her harshly, enjoying the tightness that wracked her body every time she writhed around him, underneath him. Tifa pulled her head back from the kiss, no longer trying to scream, only gasping frantically for breath. Her eyes were tightly shut and Zack grinned down at her, his eyes flashing deadly green, as he moved both hands to her chest and held her against the ground. His member slid in and out of her, each thrust delving deeper as he felt boiling urgency build in the pit of his stomach. The pleasure was enough to drown out the voice screaming in triumph at the back of his mind. This was all Zack now, blind and deaf to everything but the need to keep slamming harder and harder into the warmth spread under him, faster and deeper until the hot walls collapsed around him and it was his turn to scream hoarsely to the black sky.

His hips jerked swiftly of their own accord and as his climax came over him so hard he couldn't breathe, he knew that he'd done it, for better or worse. Tifa would carry his child. Jenova's child. A second Sephiroth.

Even as that knowledge came to him, the voice faded back into his subconscious and left Zack Fair, human, to deal with the aftermath. He slowly withdrew from Tifa, unable to keep from shivering at the feeling of her body clinging around his member. Her eyes were still closed and he dared to hope that she'd passed out, but as his fingers relinquished their death-grip on her breasts, she moaned slightly. Then she gasped and her eyes flew open, fixed on him in terror.

He'd forgotten about his wing, but right now he doubted that was the cause of her horror. Himself, he felt sick and he clenched his jaw to keep his stomach down. How...what...why...? Zack felt dizzy, and sat down hard next to her, one hand left resting unnoticed on Tifa's chest.

Her mouth moved, trying to form words, but all that came out was a whimpered sound of pain and confusion and a tearful gasp that might have been Zack's name. His own throat refused to respond at all. The shock of what had just happened held him in a vise, utterly paralyzed, unable to move or apologize or run away. Tifa was finally the first to move, slowly pushing his hand off of her and sitting up. All her movements were slow, as if in a dream, or perhaps residual effects from when he'd slammed her to the ground.

Zack watched with dazed eyes as she gathered up her clothes and put them back on in a sort of deliberate ritual, each piece slipping around her and being settled into place as more and more of her body disappeared again under the clothing.

When she was done, she stood and turned to face him, her face tear-streaked and unreadable. Zack likewise found the strength to rise and stood on shaking legs.

"Tifa," he whispered, voice hoarse. His hands reached for her shoulders, gripped her tightly. He could feel her tensing, but she needn't have feared him now. "Oh, Teef."

Her eyes went wide at the nickname, a name Zack hadn't known had any meaning, and the next thing both of them knew, her arms were around his waist and she was sobbing her heart out against his sweater.

Zack locked his legs and let his upper body go limp against her, taking what he could of this unforeseen comfort. "I'm sorry, so sorry," he mumbled through numb lips, although the words seemed so insufficient. His wing shivered against his back, the damp feathers cold in the biting wind.

Tifa didn't say anything in return, only sobbed and hiccuped and clutched at him as at a lifeline until finally her breathing slowed and she fell asleep against him, still propped upright.

Unmoving, unable to move, Zack stood there for a long time, completely at a loss for what to do. Should he run? Kill himself? Try to hide it and go on as if nothing had happened? After all, Aerith was depending on him.

He was shocked stiffly upright by Tseng's voice on the wind. He'd forgotten about the Turk. How would he react to this? Shoot first, regret later - wasn't that the Turk motto?

"Zack! Tifa!" Tseng was getting closer to the rocky outcropping. What to do?

Zack laid Tifa down, quickly arranging her limbs to make it look as if she'd caught her foot on a rock and fallen. There was blood smeared darkly on the ground nearby, both from the wing and the sex. Zack hurriedly kicked dirt over it, before remembering that Tseng wasn't enhanced and wouldn't be able to see much in the dark anyway.

Tifa muttered in her sleep and drew her legs toward her chest. Zack could hear the Turk's footsteps approaching through the underbrush, and he quickly withdrew into the shadows under the pines, careful that his wing didn't catch on the branches. He waited long enough to hear Tseng call Tifa's name and rush to her side, then Zack turned and raced off, dead silent and not looking back.

A/N: Hi, y'all! I'm back (obviously)!

It's not too much of a spoiler, as by now it's clear that Aerith's pregnant. However, I can't decide on the sex of the baby, so I'd like your input on the matter! You can either leave your choice in a review, or there's a poll on my profile. I'm also accepting suggestions for names for the baby, too.

Do you think Aerith should have: boy, girl, or twins?

Let me know!