Author's notes: Hello! Finally this chapter is done! There will be some more action next chapter, I promise. BTW, I have a poll going on in my profile for what my next project will be once I finished this. If you are interested, your vote will be appreciated. Thank you to all who've faved this, read this, put it on alert and special thanks to those who take the time to review!
Edited: 1/8/2015
~Enjoy and don't forget to review!
"Each betrayal contains a perfect moment, a coin stamped heads or tails with salvation on the other side."
-Barbara Kingsolver-
"One Winged Angels"
By: FenixPhoenix
Chapter 35: "Fruits of Betrayal"
Castiel spread the wing he'd coiled around himself before neatly folding it behind him. With interest not devoid of suspicion, he took in his unfamiliar surroundings. He had to blink and wait for his eyes to adjust to the dim lightning of the room first. Having done that, he did quick work on finding his target. In fact, he didn't even need to put too much effort into it since she was sitting before a computer, typing furiously. She was so immersed, she was either oblivious to his presence or indifferent.
Careful not to make much noise, else he triggered in her some kind of defensive mechanism; he approached the slim, hunched figure. He knew that his Jenova cells had most probably given his location away to his distant brothers by now, and therefore he should hurry and get the hell out. Yet, despite his anxiety, he couldn't help taking a moment to study her. Perhaps it was because, unlike the previous times, he now knew exactly who she was and how she'd come into existence. Or maybe it was because he now knew why she'd looked so familiar when he'd first set his eyes on her. Then again, maybe it was because part of him –a small but insistent part—was still clinging to the hope of finding his lover in her, even if it was in a glimpse.
Their resemblance is striking, he found himself thinking absentmindedly as he traced with his eyes the sharp contours of her face. But he reminded himself that this girl was not Azia and that he would do best to remember it. Indeed. They might look alike but they weren't the same. The biggest physical difference between them resided in the eyes. Whereas' Azia's had been soft and silver, this girl sported the harshness of his own, especially in her golden eye. It was just one of the many things that made his heart ache with a what-if. And how could it not? She was, after all, a mocked-up version of what Azia's and his baby would have looked like, wasn't she?
"So… as promised, you have come to take me back," she greeted monotonously, closing the window she'd been working on and shutting the computer down. She threw her head back, stretching her back as her eyes dug lifelessly into the ceiling.
Unsure, Castiel crossed his arms and settled for a curt, "I have."
"I see," she heaved a long and soft sigh, but didn't move.
Unable to keep his interest at bay, he asked, "Do you know who you are now, Si-?" Castiel cut himself off, completely at a loss as to what to call her. No matter how true it was that she was a sister to them, he couldn't bring himself to call her that. She was… She was something else! She was-
Her belly-shaking laughter interrupted his thoughts. It was a short, loud, cynical sound which reminded him very much of his own form of spiteful amusement. This anger at the world they clearly both shared, could it also be a product of genetics?
"Who I am?" she turned her mismatched eyes on him, the indentation of the scar made deeper by the shadows sliding into her face. But it was his eyes what froze him. There was nothing inside but a deep void of emptiness. "Don't you mean what I am?"
The poison in her voice made him flinch. His hands fisted, knuckles turning white with rising anger. Once more he was confronted with the truth. This world… this world was fucked-up! Evil and good didn't reside in two different sides, like some damn coin that was flipped at a whim. Take them, for instance. The people against them kept insisting that him and his brothers were evil because they wished to throw everything into oblivion. Hiding under a false banner of justice, the WRO and their allies joined to fight them at every turn as though this world was worth saving! When the truth was, this world was spoiled goods, turned more rotten with each generation.
Were they all really so blind? Could they not see that the hell they were so afraid to step into was all around them already; growing and expanding and consuming and destroying! This fucking world had betrayed him, his brothers, his sisters and so many nameless, countless others! There were bodies buried underneath each and every laboratory, mass graves for people who had found nothing but pain in this world. This damn, mediocre world that so many people were willing to die for, had chewed innocent bystanders and spat them into its surface to suffer some more until they hadn't been able to move, cry or scream anymore!
This world was nothing but a pitiless hole of misery and despair! The proof of this was written in blood and splattered across the damn globe! The proof was, even now, written in that stoic face staring back at him. For even this girl, who'd thought she'd been spared, once she'd remembered what a group of damn humans with a God complex had done, she'd been broken, just like all the rest.
Men tell their children that monsters reside in dark places, hoping that with that warning they would keep them from losing their way. But monsters are everywhere, even walking below the bright blue sky. This entire fucking Gaia is filled with those monsters and the only way to get rid of them is to destroy them all. Hate breeds hate, wasn't that the idealistic bullshit people liked to preach? Well, Castiel knew from firsthand experience that the truth was monsters bred monsters and, in order to stop the vicious circle, a monster was needed to destroy all the others. Hate breeds hate because it's the only way to fight it, to stop it, to rip it into pieces!
And peace? Peace is the gift of their most revered mother. Peace is what resides in the embrace of oblivion. Peace is what he and his family had promised to bestow upon the world, even if that same world hated them.
"You…," He reached out to her, wanting to touch her soul and, strange as the idea was, comfort her. He wanted her know that she was not alone in her descent to darkness, "You are one of us," he pronounced, using the same words he'd heard before spoken by Raphael. "You are not alone." Yes, like him, she was a monster too, but every monster was, in the end, human. And no human wanted to be alone, she could be no exception.
He frowned when Rie's lips quirked in an awkward smile. "One of you?" she mocked drily. "How can I be one of you? You were born, I was created. No. What am I? I am… something without a past and without a future. I am nothing but a remnant of a failed experiment. Yes, that's what I am. I am just an echo of an existence that could have been important to someone but which was left to rot aw-"
"Shut up!" Castiel snarled, grabbing her by the front of her jacket and leaning forward so that their faces were level. If she was afraid of his unvoiced warning, she didn't show it. In fact, she seemed far away from being impressed. What had they done to her? Would she turn out as unapproachable as Oriel and Zariel had been? "Don't speak of what you do not know. Don't speak of her existence…"
"Oh," her mismatched eyes became slits which seemed to dig straight into the inner recesses of his mind. "So you knew her then?" She touched her face with trembling fingers, caressing the scar across her cheek before weakly clawing at it. He wanted to stop her, but didn't, couldn't. Her eyes… it was like looking at a mirror after he'd found her dead, cold, mutilated body. She wore the same dejected expression…
"Her name was Azia," he responded despite his apprehension. His fingers slackened their hold until he let go of her completely. He gave a step back, wishing the distance would break whatever spell she'd had him under. He didn't want to talk about her, least of all to this woman who knew nothing about him. "Let's cut the crap. This ain't the time to talk. We should get going…," he hesitated but, discarding his troublesome emotions, he offered his hand, "Come on, I ain't got all day."
Before she could accept his outstretched limb, six consecutive shots were fired at the door. The groan of metal followed soon after. When the door was brought down, three warriors filed inside. Castiel felt his Jenova cells dancing as he recognized Cloud and Sephiroth among the party interrupting their escape.
Keeping outwardly impassive, he cursed himself and his damn luck as his hand sought the hilt of his sword. He'd known before coming that encountering resistance was a possibility, which is why he'd been given the order of going in and out with no wasted time.
"Step away from her," Sephiroth Crescent ordered, his hand tightening on his long weapon. Castiel had yet to cross swords with him but, considering he was still recovering from the last fight, he was certain that if he was engaged, his chances of leaving the building alive would be reduced slim to none.
To his and everyone else's surprise, however, the girl, who'd yet to leave her chair, suddenly started laughing. The dry sound of harsh amusement threw everyone off balance and Castiel had to wonder if perhaps she was not as useless as he'd assumed. Could she be buying them time to think of a way out?
"Now you come!" she whispered. Her index finger idly traced her scar as her lifeless gaze swept them once before it focused on Sephiroth. "This is… most unfortunate…"
"What are you-," Cloud began but was interrupted by the small commotion caused by Tifa when she finally stepped inside.
Her wine eyes quickly took in the situation and Castiel was reminded that she was indeed their leader when, unfazed, she fixed her gaze on the scientist. "Rie, what the hell is going on here?!"
The girl, Rie, rose to her full height and her lips pressed into a thin, stern line. She tore her eyes from the confused group she used to regard as friends and posed them on him instead. "It's enough. Shall we go, then?"
Castiel's eyes snapped towards Tifa when she attempted to give a step forward. He saw resolution dancing in her eyes and it was so intense, that he thought she would break the arms of those around her. But the Vamp joined in to help Sephiroth restrain her.
Still struggling, she yelled, "Rie, what are you doing!" With mild interest, the girl turned to her. Taking that action as incentive, Tifa appealed. "Listen to me, we're friends! Don't do this! Do not leave us-"
Castiel attempted to grab Rie in order to leave, afraid that the woman's words would drive home, but the girl pulled her arm away from his grasp. Mismatched eyes filled with a hint of something that could have been pain or resentment. Her hands grabbed a hold of her legs, as if unconsciously telling herself to keep still.
"Friends?" she echoed sardonically, chuckling mirthlessly. "Tifa Lockhart, only humans can have friends!" Her left arm clutched her right one, fingers digging into the sleeve of her jacket. "I am not a human! I am a thing!" She said the last with disgust, her face cringing. "I am an echo, created to be a pet for the human race!" She let her arm dropped to her side limply and Castiel detected in the further slumping of her shoulders the clear melody of defeat. "Rie was a beautiful lie, but Azriel knows better." Her voice trembled, threatening to break, and so she added in a tenuous whisper, "I remember nothing because I have nothing because I am nothing."
"GAWD! What are you saying, you emo pirate!" a young woman with short hair, who'd also made her way inside, screamed at her. Her voice turned pitchy with emotions and tears glinted in her dark eyes. "Stop saying stupid things and just…just come back already! Okay? Please…?"
Azriel stared at them for a while and Castiel wondered if she would cry, repent and desert him and Raphael for good. Part of him feared to lose the only thing he had left of Azia, even as another part told him that having her stay might be the best thing for his sanity. In the end, it was a baseless fear. Azriel didn't smile, snort or cry. Instead she turned around to face him, her eyes recovering the emptiness he'd first seen. He knew it then, she'd made her decision.
He hated that look, though. He hated that face with the same intensity that he longed for it. Wordlessly, he pulled her into his arms. Wrapping his wing around them both, he took her back to their promised land. To the place where monsters awaited to fight the rest of their kind.
-o0o-
Tifa Lockhart lowered the folder she'd been studying for the past three hours. A handful of pages fell out of her slackened hold, scattering onto the table. She cursed and gathered them into a pile which she then tucked inside the beige, standard WRO folder. She pushed it to the edge of the working table in her and Sephiroth's room tersely. Leaning tiredly on her elbows she rubbed at her eyes before holding her downcast head on her hands.
"Turning enemies into friends, huh?" she murmured gloomily, her eyes tracing the darker lines running through the oak. It had seemed like such a brilliant idea when she'd first conceived it almost three weeks ago, but now she wasn't very sure. Perhaps she'd been too naïve in her thoughts, too idealistic in her goals?
Her eyes jumped back to the closed folder she'd received the day before. Below it where other folders that provided reports of various experiments involving Jenova cells. All of them, without exception, were gruesome in their detail. Some of the pictures attached had made her stomach twist and bile rise into her mouth. With one hand still holding her head, she reached out with the other and tapped the latest folder softly.
"Holy, you were just a child," she whispered, feeling in her eyes the stinging sensation that seemed to have become permanent lately. How? How could they do that to her! Jezbel had done nothing to deserve her fate! "Why…?" Her voice broke and she gave a sharp intake of breath, doing her best to keep from crying. She'd been able to stand it so far, but the more she learned the more unbearable the truth got.
Tifa's jaw clenched, her molars grinding as she pondered on what she'd read. Though she had had nothing to do with what had been done to Jezebel, she felt disgusted with herself and partly ashamed. How could she have thought that she could, somehow, fix them? How pretentious of her to wish to understand what they'd gone through when she had been just so damn ignorant to begin with!
Only a few years ago, she'd thought that losing her Dad to a madman and her city to a fire had been the biggest tragedy that could ever befall anyone! Meanwhile, there had been another young girl who had had it much worse. Not only her, but the rest of Raphael's warriors as well. They'd all dealt with things of a magnitude that was going to give her nightmares for a while.
"Damn it!" Her hand fisted and she slapped the folder hard once, twice, three times. The blows were strong enough to leave the side of her hand throbbing, but the tightening in her heart did not ease. Tifa had hoped that she would be able to save the warriors Jenova had gathered around her. But how was she to do that now when she couldn't even keep her own people from deserting her?
She closed her eyes as memories of the times she'd seen and talked to Rie flashed below her lids. She replayed each conversation minutely, unable to help wondering what would have happened had she responded differently or said something else or done something instead of passively standing by in some of those occasions. But no matter how much she imagined a different outcome, nothing changed and at the end of the day Rie was still gone. She had still betrayed them.
"Was I silly, Ramuh?" she asked out loud, rubbing at an obstinate tear that had begun to fall. Holy, she was stupid. Had it really been childish of her to believe that by ignoring the prophecy she would be able to stop it from being fulfilled? Had she missed something? Could she have done something differently?
The door opened to admit the figure of Sephiroth Crescent. She saw him taking in her hunched posture and cursed inwardly when his verdant eyes filled with concern.
"I'm alright," she assured him, hoping the lie would be enough to stop him from probing at what was going on in her heart. Wanting to make herself appear more believable, she leaned back on her chair and threw her legs out casually. Sephiroth continued to approach and, by his expression, he was not yet convinced. "How was practice?"
For a while he seemed reluctant to let the subject slip but Tifa met his gaze squarely. He relented by squeezing her shoulder affectionately before pulling a chair close and settling in.
"Nothing would make me happier than to tell you that it went well but," he sighed, flipping his long hair over his shoulder, "the baby's kidnapping coupled with Rie's situation has lowered morale. I'd assumed that the low-ranking troops wouldn't have been affected, but I've been proven wrong. It has already been two weeks since…Rie's thing." He made a hand gesture and she was a bit surprised to find he had also taken her betrayal hard. "And still there's been no progress in that front."
"The WRO is more like a family than ShinRa ever was. Reeve had suspected that something like this would happen," Tifa reminded him, though she understood his frustration. She felt it as well.
"I know," he sighed, leaning forward to pull his boots off and stretching. "Her… departure created a ripple effect and I'm afraid that, if we don't stop it soon, it will cause a further breach in our cause."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm sure you've heard, but people who used to be close to Rie, be that because they shared a working space or because they used to train together, have been alienated by their comrades. Just today I had to break three fights between cadets. I had a mind to run them to exhaustion but resources are low and so are able bodied men. I ended up giving them extra duties and a stern warning."
Tifa grimaced. She had heard rumors about people accusing others of being part of a conspiracy, but she'd assumed they would die out before something major happened. And if people were walking around pointing fingers, then what about Genesis? After all, it had been popular news among the WRO personal that Rie had actually managed to land herself a guy, and a famous ex-SOLDIER at that.
"How's Genesis taking things?" she enquired, subconsciously gauging his reaction because she knew he tended to downplay things in order to keep from piling more worries onto her shoulders. Though she appreciated the sentiment, she couldn't afford not knowing what was happening, especially when it concerned her men.
"Worst than expected," Sephiroth admitted after mulling over his thoughts. He heaved a tired sigh under his breath and brought a hand up to massage his temples as he continued, "He's been brooding and difficult to handle. More so now that people are becoming more fervent and open in their thoughts and opposition about Rie. Cloud, Vincent, Nanaki and I have been taking turns to challenge him in order to keep his mind off of the subject, but some of the bolder cadets have lost their respect for him. I was half-afraid that he would chop someone's head off, but instead of rising to the bait, he'd at least kept relatively civil. He's been turning even our challenges down lately, though, which is a cause of concern." He crossed his arms and struggled for words. "He's unmotivated and, if this continues, I doubt he'll be of any use to us in a fight."
"Don't say that," Tifa chided, even when a big part of her believed this was inevitable. First Cid and now Genesis, Raphael was certainly attacking them in a devastating way. With two perfectly aimed blows, he'd managed to throw her entire organization off balance. She trembled to think what would come next.
"I wish it weren't so but we have to face the facts," he pointed out, though he did so softly, almost as if he himself wished to be convinced otherwise. "Moreover, I'm even more concerned about what will happen if we ever meet Rie in battle. I do not know if Genesis would be capable of-"
"Of course he won't! And that's alright, because we'll capture her and, if needed be, we'll beat some sense into her," she commanded, her voice allowing no arguments in this. They had had people here who'd betrayed them but they had eventually returned to their side, and Tifa was not ready to write Rie off.
Sephiroth raised a hand in a placating manner and Tifa was quick to apologize for her outburst. He brushed her words aside and, perhaps wishing to change the subject to a less testy one, he reached for the top folder in the pile. "Found a new file?"
Tifa nodded, "Jezbel's."
He turned to her and she signaled with a sideway motion that it was okay to open it. He flipped the cover and scanned the contents. She was impressed to detect no appalled reaction despite some of the gore the pictures displayed. After a while, he closed the file and focused his attention back on her. Though he'd studied the reports in silence and his face had betrayed none of his emotions, now that she was looking him straight in the eye, she saw concern surfacing. But it wasn't for Jezbel. It was for her and that made her feel… slightly mad. Why? She wasn't sure, but there it was. It was not her who should be pitied!
"I'm sorry," he broke the silence and Tifa wished he hadn't spoken.
"Why are you apologizing to me for?" she grinded out, crossing her arms defensively and feeling her brow wrinkling despite trying to appear unaffected. She wasn't the one who'd suffered at the hands of those cruel, despicable people! She wanted to yell this to him, but kept quiet instead, biting down on her tongue until she tasted the copper of her blood.
He didn't respond for a while. He seemed to be trying to understand where her sudden frigidness had come from. Tifa made it a point not to look at him. She was well aware that she was acting childish and, truth be told, she wasn't very sure anymore who she was angry at. Him for not pitying Jezebel or herself for doing it? If she was so mad when finding herself at the receiving end of pity, wouldn't that mean that the Jenovan warriors would find themselves likewise upset to be pitied? Especially by people who could never empathize with what they'd gone through…
"You're upset," he pointed out the obvious, completely at a loss.
She turned to him, intent on giving him a piece of her mind, when she noted how very troubled and confused he was! His expression was bordering on panic as he tried, and failed, to understand what he'd said to make her angry in the first place. The look was so out of place in someone normally so confident, that she almost laughed.
"Seph, don't mind me. I was just being stupid," she told him, reaching out to brush at his brow, wishing to wipe away whatever she'd made him feel.
He took her hand and held it in a tight grip, "No."
"What?" her eyebrows rose with surprise.
"I said no," he repeated, his determination unwavering. "I said something that hurt you and I wish to know what it was in order to correct it."
"It was nothing. It was stupid," she tried again, forcing herself to laugh it off. It didn't work.
"It's not stupid if it brought about that reaction," he insisted. "Just tell me, Tifa."
Before she could think of a better way to phrase it, the truth slipped out raw. "I don't want your pity. It makes me feel inadequate as a leader." Her eyes widened and she looked away, afraid that she'd hurt him this time.
His hand on her chin forced her to look back at him. There wasn't the anger she expected, or the pain, there was just a clear understanding. "You are the strongest person I've ever encounter. I apologize if my words gave you the mistaken impression that I pitied you. How can I pity someone that was strong enough to even accept me, a person who singlehandedly put you through the worst hell possible?"
Tifa's hand instinctively shot up to hold his in an apologetic gesture. Holy, she was stupid. Thankfully, he took it, weaving his fingers with hers and caressing her hand with his thumb.
"What I meant before," he continued, even though it wasn't needed, "was that I was sorry you had to deal with so many cruel things without being given a break. From out of all of us, you are probably the one that would feel the most for these people, not because you are weak, but because your heart is strong enough to allow itself to touch other people even at the cost of your own happiness. It takes more courage to try and understand what someone else has gone through in both heart and mind, than it is to simply shut everyone out."
Tifa felt her sight blurring even as a blush rushed to paint her cheeks. Nobody had ever spoken to her like he was doing. There was so much awe and respect in his tone that it made her feel humble and proud all at the same time. With a soft smile, he pulled her towards him. Tifa settled on his lap and slid her hands around his neck, holding onto him. She kissed him for a long time, hoping that would be enough to convey her thanks and her deepest apologies.
"I have a confession to make," Tifa declared, resting her head on his chest as his fingers combed through her long hair.
"What's that?"
"The more I learn about them, the more I wish I hadn't delved into their lives."
He seemed to gather his thoughts in the pause that followed before speaking. "It's understandable, Tifa," he told her gently. "Nobody likes to be confronted by the ugliness of war. It's easier to fight a nameless person than someone who you know a lot about. But this is what makes you special. You are willing to try…"
"I guess…"
"Do you want to talk about it?" he offered and she wondered if that would be a good idea. Sometimes when she was really upset –like the time Barret had taken Denzel and Marlene away- talking seemed to have helped her deal with the situation. It was almost as if all she really needed was to say things out loud in order to get the feeling of frustration out of her system.
"She was six when she was kidnapped and injected with Jenova cells." She began, knowing that, since he'd just read the file, there was no need for her to specify who she was referring to. "By the time she was eight, she had been ganged raped by the scientists that were in charge of her. They kept pounding into her, taking turns for hours on end, getting turned on by her sobs. They-" Her hands fisted and she felt again like turning someone into a bloody pulp. "She was just a child, for Holy's sake! As if that hadn't been enough, instead of providing her medical attention, they just kept her under observation to see how long it took her own body to heal by itself! They kept the rape going for years, excusing it by reporting it as part of the experiment. They showered her in mako, increasing the doses, to see if it would help in quickening her recovery."
Tifa felt a tightening in the muscles around her eyes as the photographs she'd seen of Jezbel's tiny, torn form paraded through her head. She'd been whored around the entire department to the point where, somewhere along the way, she'd given in.
Tifa knew though -it was something in her stomach that told her so- that Jezbel had never reciprocated the feelings of those pigs. No, what's he'd done she'd done for survival. She'd joined in their game, giving them what they would have otherwise taken by force. In doing so willingly, or as willing as she could become, she'd at least put an end to the gang rape. Having sex with the most powerful scientists had been her only ticket to move from a group whore to a one-man mistress. That was, perhaps, the only thing that kept her alive long enough to be rescued by Raphael.
Tifa shook her head with unbelief. Rescued! Despite what he'd done to them, Tifa couldn't help grudgingly respecting Raphael for what he'd done. Because no matter if his actions hid an ulterior motive, in the end it was painfully clear that most of his warriors would have died if not for him. Of course, that also meant that they would be loyal to a fault.
"There's no excuse for what was done to them," Sephiroth pointed out in the silence that followed, "but that doesn't mean we can allow them to wreak havoc as they please."
"I know that!" Tifa snapped, frustration hugging her as tight as his arms were. It seems that lately that was the only sentiment that wouldn't leave her no matter what. She was sure that, if she were to die soon, frustration would follow her into the very lifestream. "But I can't help feeling mad," she expressed, pulling another file from the pile and flipping it open. The profile picture inside was Oriel's, the title of the experiment was doll, "Look at this!"
She leveled the folder so that he would be able to better look at it.
"He was offered up for experimentation by his own mother. He was injected Jenova cells when he was five months old. He was left in complete isolation. When he was four, they left a corpse on the room with him for days, all the while observing what he did from behind a glass, as if he was some kind of exotic animal. Hungry, the baby started munching on the rotting meat. They allowed him to continue eating it until he was so ill he couldn't move. Only then did they provide him with medical attention and eventually showered him with mako to keep him from dying. They kept doing this, allowing him to kill other kids in order to feed, stripping him of his humanity, ridding him of his emotions from a very early age! All because they wanted a weapon capable of killing without emotions getting in the way. His project was a twin of Zariel's and it was just as ruthless!"
"Tifa," he forcefully pulled the folder from her hands and held her tighter, pushing her back to rest on his broad chest. She hadn't realized until now that she was shaking. "That's enough for now. Please, stop."
His voice was soft and it trembled in such a way that it ripped a sob from her throat. Holy, she hated this! She hated all of those cruel people who had done so much harm. How was she supposed to fight them now? How was she supposed to save them? They were victims! She couldn't possibly pass judgment onto them! How could she? Hadn't she herself turned into a terrorist in order to get back at ShinRa for what they had done to her? And that hadn't even been half as bad as what ShinRa had done to them!
"What do I do, Sephiroth?" she asked him, feeling as though she was drowning as her despair rose, dancing with her frustration. How was she to save them? How? How! How?!
"You can't save them all, Tifa," he repeated in a whisper.
She knew that he was right. Yet, no matter how much she wished to convince herself of that, she couldn't help feeling that the excuse was not good enough. She wanted to save them. She wanted to lift away their pain. But how was she to do that, when she was just so damn afraid that, if she stepped into their side of the world, she would lose herself within the darkness of it.
In the back of her mind, in a shameful corner, a voice asked if perhaps the only alternative was to kill them as they'd done Zariel. Tifa was trying very hard not to listen. She tightened her hold on her General and her eyes, seeking a distraction, zeroed on the dirt vase Sephiroth had bought some time ago. It was a strange whim coming from him, but it was also quite refreshing.
Sephiroth had planted a seed in it and Tifa was excited to see what kind of plant he would be growing. Already she could see the green stem breaking the through the surface… which gave her an idea! Yes, that was it! Like the plant she needed to persevere. At least for a while, numbness would keep everything at bay. Just for a little while, until she regained the strength to keep moving forward, and break through all the dirt.
-o0o-
Jezebel held her breath and turned stiff as a bow when the little creature started stirring. She closed her eyes and prayed to Jenova that he would not wake. Her prayers, unsurprisingly, went unanswered when a loud wail pierced the atmosphere she'd been enjoying.
"Damn it!" She rose from the chair where she'd been reading the novel Oriel had given her for her 'being rescued' anniversary. She had the distinct impression –mainly because it was a romantic story—that Sephiel had been the one that had told Oriel to give it to her. She almost smiled at the memory as she reluctantly put the book aside. The baby's screeching wiped away all her giddiness, though.
With a dark scowl, she approached the squirming babe. Why had she been the one stuck with taking care of him? She hadn't even been part of the mission to retrieve him. Heck, his existence had been blissfully absent from her life and she would have loved it if it had stayed that way! For crying out loud! Did Raphael think she would make a good mother simply because she was a woman? Did he not know that she hadn't the foggiest idea of how to treat this fragile, annoyingly loud creature! Half the time she was afraid to break him and the other half she kept restraining herself from tossing him out of a second-story window and into the ocean below.
"What do you want?" she demanded, patting his stomach in what she hoped was a calming gesture. Of course, that only seemed to fuel the creature's distress. Why the hell had that stupid couple decided to have a baby in the first place! Did they not know the cruelty of this world? Why would anyone want to bring a life into something that was in the last stages of decay!
"Damn it! Where's Sephiel when you need him?" she grinded out, eyeing the red-faced babe with increasing distrust and disgust. Oh, hell, mucus was running down his nose! Wrinkling her nose, she grabbed a napkin and wiped it off before it could slide inside his mouth. Why did babies have to be so disgusting!
Jezbel threw the damp napkin into the wastebasket nearby and grabbed a hold of the cradle. Her hands tightened as she wrecked her brains for an idea. She tried pushing the rocking bed to and fro, but the baby was relentless and her temper was starting to fry. She glanced back at the door longingly and wished, with all her heart, that Sephiel would just come in already, like he usually did. But no matter how much she stared and then glared, the doorway remained empty.
Damn it! It was thanks to his care that the little brat was still alive, she was sure. Somehow, she couldn't figure it out, but Sephiel instinctively knew what was needed. Which was weird because she should be the one with maternal instincts, shouldn't she? But no. She was at a complete loss.
Taking care of Oriel was a piece of cake in comparison. Oriel needed no care. Her presence by his side was enough to have him content -or as content as a doll could be, which wasn't much. In fact, she wasn't sure he actually regarded her any different from all the rest, but Uriel and Sephiel insisted that he did. She wondered if it was that, more than the fact that she was a woman, what had prompted Raphael to task her with taking care of this nuisance.
Jezbel shook her head and tsked at her thoughts. Tired of waiting for someone to come and relieve her of this pain, she leaned down to scoop the baby. It took her a while accompanied by chains of curses and some stomping of her feet to figure out how to secure him in her arms without hurting him…much.
The baby squirmed in her arms, shoving her tiny hand into the neck of her blouse. She pulled it out with a huff, "little pervert." Yes. This boy would probably grow up like all the rest of those sick bastards, wanting nothing more than to ride a girl until she was bleeding under him.
But not all are like that, a voice chanted knowingly and Jezbel allowed her expression to soften a little bit at the thought. When she'd met Sephiel in secret right after his recovery, she'd given herself to him in body and soul. It had been the first time in all her life where sex had truly taken on a different meaning. It hadn't been just about physical pleasure. It had been about trust within a vulnerable intimacy what had made the experience special. Of course, they'd been careful to keep their rapidly evolving relationship a secret, else they incurred the wrath of their family. Because of that, the encounters they'd shared had been sporadic and briefer than she might like.
The baby shoved his hand into her blouse again as he tried to push her away. She was tempted to let go of him and see how he liked it when he hit the floor, but refrained. Raphael said to keep him alive, but she was sure that keeping him unharmed had also been included.
"Why can't you just tell me what you want?" she hissed, looking around the small room Raphael had provided for the newest member of the family. It was Spartan in decoration, but it seemed that Uriel had gone to the trouble of procuring some toys for the babe. It had certainly been quite a sight when she'd seen the humongous guy coming in with a variety of stuff animals in his arms. Of course, nobody knew if this kid was a temporal member. Raphael had barely talked to them about his plans and, out of respect, -for her part out of indifference- nobody had asked.
Deciding that the best way to keep from snapping was to seek Sephiel's help, she left the room. As she rounded a corner, her ears picked up on part of a conversation. Unconsciously, she lowered her pace straining to hear the words spoken above the baby's cry. Annoyed at her failure, she placed a hand on the baby's mouth to muffle him.
"How does that feel?" a female voice –Azriel's?—asked, the sound coming from one of the rooms ahead. Jezbel frowned when she noticed the door was closed.
"It's incredible."
She froze mid-step when she registered that the answering voice belonged to none other than Sephiel. It didn't matter that his voice had been low, she would know it anywhere! And what was he doing with some other girl behind a closed door, no less! Feeling the sudden urge to just go in and rain on their stupid parade, she stalked ahead and entered the room with a frown on her face and a threat to sent them to hell in her eyes. The fact that she had baby fluids all over her hand, and not just from his mouth, was not helping to lift her mood.
"Jezbel," Sephiel greeted, his eyes softening as he gazed at her and his lips quirking into a small smile that, to anyone else would not have been very different from a smirk.
She blushed when she took in the scene only to realize that nothing perverted whatsoever had been going on. Sephiel was half-lying on a couch with his mechanic arm hooked up to a machine. Azriel was sitting beside him, looking at the mechanism inside of it through a magnifying glass, various tools spread on a rolling table she'd set nearby. Jezbel kicked herself mentally, ashamed at her previous thoughts. How could she just assume things! Sephiel would never cheat on her! Least of all with someone as unattractive, plain and boring as Azriel!
"W-what are you guys doing?" she asked, trying to make up for her slip in judgment and struggling to come up with a believable excuse for how she'd stormed into the room. Her tone, however, came out rather sheepish and, by Sephiel's expression, she doubted he hadn't noticed her anger. She would just… blame it on the baby! Yes, that was a good one!
"Azriel offered to upgrade my arm, remember?" Sephiel responded, quirking an eyebrow. She was glad that rather than being upset, he seemed amused.
As if taking her cue, Azriel –who had ignored her up until now- nodded in agreement before hunching down in order to resume working on the upgrades and calibrations of his arm. "I studied the mechanisms in the claw of Vincent Valentine," Azriel decided to elaborate, switching tools to tweak at the joints between the fingers. "I am positive we can increase his reaction time. Perhaps I can also make the hand lighter as well."
"Ah, I see. Well, that's good," Jezbel mumbled, cradling the baby back and forth a bit awkwardly in her attempt to settle him. Needless to say the baby just seemed to cry even more. When would this thing run out of battery? Sephiel's cat-like eyes sparked with amusement and she scowled at him. Yes, laugh it off!
Winking at her, he opened his human arm in an enveloping gesture, "Here, let me."
Jezbel was all too happy to pass the burden onto him. Hell, had they'd been alone, she would have kissed him silly and promised to make it up to him in whatever way he wanted. With a sigh at being relieved of the weight that was the baby, she stepped back. She was soon entranced by him, as she watched him positioning the baby atop his chest, keeping him steady with a hand under his bum. As if by magic, the baby stopped crying. Nuzzling his wet nose against the man's neck, he closed his eyes and hiccupped.
Of course, you like him, little brat! Anyone would fall asleep when in this man's arms! She thought with a hint of jealousy.
"That's more like it," Sephiel whispered, his hand gently patting the baby's back. "Don't make Jezbel worry, okay? Boys don't cry."
Is this what you would look like with our child, Sephiel? A small voice, barely audible above the erratic beating of her heart, questioned, hoped and even dared to dream.
"Are you feeling ill?" Azriel asked, snapping Jezbel off of her musings.
"Huh?" escaped Jezbel when she noticed that the question had been directed at her. In answer, Azriel's mismatched eyes trailed down to her womb. Her blood drained when she found her hands had unconsciously settled atop it. It wouldn't have been a big deal if this had been the first time, but it wasn't. It worried her. Especially since she'd been waiting in vain for her period to return. She told herself that it was the stress causing it to delay but… what if it wasn't?
"Jezbel, are you okay?" Sephiel's voice held an underlying question that did not escape her. She'd been asking herself that same thing since a week ago. On wobbly feet she gave a step back and, before he could ask more, before they could find out, she turned around and fled the room. This couldn't be happening! They would kill them, surely they would!
fFighting the panic that was rising inside of her, Jezbel decided that, for now, the best thing would be for her to be alone. Yes. She just needed to be alone and think things through. "It's just the stress," she insisted, and how she wished she could believe it…
-o0o-
Yuffie Kisurugi shook her head reproachfully when she noticed that, once again, Reeve had made himself scarce in the cafeteria. Grumpily, she took a tray and proceeded to get in line. She'll just get him something and bring it over to his office, like she'd been doing for the past few days. Yuffie was well aware that her chiding at not coming out of the office at least to eat was canceled by her actions of bringing him food. After all, Reeve needed to be seen amongst his people! He needed to show them who was boss! And yet, she couldn't bring herself to drag him out, least of all when he turned those hurt, dark eyes on her!
"Aaarrgh, that man!" she hissed under her breath. Gawd, he was impossible sometimes!
The noise around her suddenly turned into hushed conversations. Confused by the tension now permeating the atmosphere, she gazed around in search for the cause. She glared when she found it. A man –No! The man who'd been slandering Rie and all those who had been close to her –including her precious Reeve!—had just stepped into the cafeteria with one of his loyal goons. As he was passing her by, he smirked her way before snorting something to his companion which made them both snicker.
Now, had Yuffie been anyone else like say Aerith or Nanaki, she would have let that slide and continued on her merry way. But she wasn't them. She was none other than the courageous rose of Wutai and she would be damn if some nameless, shitless bastard was going to play all high and mighty and pretend he was better than she was. Where was he when Sephiroth –eerr…Jenova had called meteor down upon friggin' Gaia, anyways?! Probably cowering in some basement, crying his little eyes out!
"Hey, asshole!" She called with a cocky smirk of her own. The men stopped in their tracks and the tallest slowly –he was probably trying to act cool—turned around to face her. Her lips broke into a smile when she noticed that, hard as he tryid to remain composed, his face flushed.
"What did you call me?" his voice was strained, his body tensed and poised for a fight. Yuffie silently welcomed the challenge. She needed to let out some steam. Breaking a bone or two while teaching someone a lesson seemed like the perfect excuse.
"Listen, asshole," she enunciated the word slowly, so that there would be no mistaking her intention. "You've got something to say, grow some balls and say it to my face. Otherwise," she let the tray down on a nearby table, as she slowly worked her way towards him, "crawl back inside the hole you came from and clear the field for the grownups."
The man looked around, as if trying to find support from within the now silent crowd. But really, who in their right mind would publicly cross one of the heroes of Gaia? Yuffie folded her arms and waited. One of her hands closed on the hilt of a hidden kunai, just in case he brought out a gun or something.
The guy locked his jaw and focused on her. He'd found no support, not even from his goon, who had done the brilliant thing and had backed away. Now it was only her and him within the empty circle created by the crowd. Yuffie wanted him to attack so that she could break that mouth of his which he seemed to like to run like a gossiping' grandma without getting into a shitload of trouble. After all, it would be self-defense, right?
"Fine!" he said between clenched teeth. He was trapped and, if only to save face, he was willing to put his neck on the line.
Works for me, Yuffie continued to smirk as she waited for whatever comeback he'd prepared.
"This is what happens when we have a fuckin' woman as a leader!" He snarled, his voice growing and with it, his conviction. "Women think with their heart and that is going to destroy us! Had she been a man, she would have seen that fuckin' bitch was a spy from the get go." He swept the crowd, his cheeks flushed with excitement at finally making his big speech. "I say we toss that good for nothing barmaid out of the organization and put an apt m-"
He didn't get to finish. Yuffie had had enough. Acting on pure instinct, she'd punched the man's jaw with all her strength, sending him crashing to the floor. He propped himself on an elbow and spat blood, phlegm and a half a tooth out. He looked disoriented for a bit, but soon enough there was anger in his eyes. With a roar, he jumped to his feet and came at her with almost palpable murder intent.
Had he slandered her or even Rie, Yuffie would have let him off easy with a broken nose or a bruised rib. But how dare he speak of Tifa in that manner! No matter the rules, she could not permit him to leave this room unharmed. She was going to beat him to a bloody pulp and force him to eat his words or else he'll end up getting his nutrients through a fuckin' tube.
Effortlessly, Yuffie sidestepped his barreling form and elbowed him on the back of his shoulder, sending him to the ground. He hit his face hard and, when he pushed himself to his feet, there was blood coming out of his twisted nose. He broke into a trot and Yuffie, spiraling on the ground with her leg outstretched, swept him off his feet. She stepped back and waited to see what he did next. He cursed. When he rushed at her and tried to punch her, she took a hold of his wrist, spun inwards so that her back was to his chest, and with a swift motion of her hand, pushed his elbow not out but in. The joint cracked as it got disconnected, the man's surprised yelp ringing in her ear.
"Are you going to take what you said back?" She challenged calmly. She stepped away while he clutched as his elbow, trying to keep his arm from moving too much. The paleness of his face signaled it hurt. Yuffie hoped it did.
His answer, though, was a roar followed by another clumsy attempt at a punch, this time with his left hand. She took hold of his wrist and, instead of spinning inwards, she spun outwards twisting his arm behind his back.
"I'll give you one more chance," she threatened.
When the man maintained his stubborn silence, she grabbed his fingers with her other hand and pushed down and out until his wrist cracked. It was a sickening sound that tore a yell from his throat. Unfortunately, it also earned the attention of a passing Barret. The crowd parted to let him through and Yuffie glared at him, warning him not to meddle. But Barret was not easily frightened, least of all by someone half his age, size and height.
"Was' goin' on 'ere?" he demanded in that booming tone that would make lesser people quiver on their feet.
"This trash is delusional enough to think he would be more apt to lead us than Tifa, that's what's going on!" Yuffie responded when no one else seemed inclined to speak up, not even the man she'd broken.
"Dat true?" Barret demanded, his dark eyes slits. Nobody messed with the human machinegun and nobody lied to him if they knew what was best. "Ya think ya better dan Teef?"
"I…I… i-it was a mistake," the man was shaking so bad that Yuffie was sure that if she were to let go of him, he would sink to the ground. Curious to see if she was right, she did. Sure enough, he landed on his knees and even went as far as to bend down until his forehead was pressed on the ground. "I'm sorry! I don't know what I was talkin' about, I'm sorry!"
"Damn right you don't!" Yuffie snarled, placing her hands on her hips and glaring down at the little worm. Nobody talks shit about Teef and leave unscathed!
"Report to Sephiroth Crescent for ya punishment," Barret commanded. "If ya don't think ya're man enough to serve with the WRO under its new leadership, den I sugges' ya go back to hide behind yar mother's skirts." He glared at the crowd. "Dar goes for ya'll!"
The man hurried out and the crowd soon went back to their business. Barret approached Yuffie, his expression still stern, and pointed at her nose. "Ya go to Reeve! Tell 'im what happened an' receive a proper punishment! We can't 'ave even us fightin' our own people, ya brat!"
"Fine!" Yuffie huffed, stalking past him and retaking her tray. "Relax, old man, I'll do it!" She said when she saw him opening his mouth probably to scold her some more. "I'll just get us some food first!"
He nodded curtly before leaving her be. Still mad, she loaded two plates, grabbed some bottles of juice and made her way out of the cafeteria and towards the elevator. She balanced the tray on a hip and pressed the button for the fourth floor. When she was finally outside his office she hesitated. Damn, would he be mad when he learned that she'd gotten into a fight? What had she been thinking?
She was well aware that he'd been stressed out lately by the fights breaking within the WRO. Now, she had started one herself! Even when knowing that he'd been hoping AVALANCHE would not get involved in any of these! Hell, he'd been almost waiting to hear of Genesis killing someone!
Well, I just broke one bone and dislocated a joint… probably broke his mouth and nose, possibly injured his jaw… She grimaced and hit her forehead with the door. She was so stupid!
She stayed like that for a while, leaning her entire weight on door. She was rehearsing what she would say when the door opened and, not having expected that, she pitched forward with tray and all. Thankfully, Reeve had been standing just on the other side. He managed to stop her before she spilled the food on the pristine carpet. The drinks did fall, but the bottles were closed.
"Ah, there you are," he said, holding her by the arms until she regained her balanced. "What were you doing?"
She frowned. He'd been expecting her? Her eyes widened. Shit, he knew! He knew she'd just gotten into a fight, didn't he? How the hell did he know? Who was the bastard that told him! She was gonna kill him!
"Yuffie, is there something you want to tell me?" he asked with a frown.
She quickly pushed the tray onto his hands and bowed, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do it!" Gawd, she was sounding just like that idiot downstairs!
She heard him putting the tray down atop the file cabinets nearby before his hands came back to rest on her shoulders. "Yuffie, what's going on? What happened?"
"Well, he was talking shit—"
"Don't curse, Yuffie," he interjected.
"-about Tifa! So I couldn't stand it and one thing led to the other and-"
"Wait what?" he didn't seem very pleased.
"It was only some minor injuries," she excused, her eyes pleading for mercy. "Just one small, little bone broken."
Reeve's appalled expression was swiftly replaced by confusion which later morphed into realization. "Ah, a fight then."
Yuffie frowned, "Of course! What did you think?"
The man brushed away her question with a wave and, taking the tray, went back to his desk. Yuffie followed him with a frown of her own. What did this mean? He didn't know about the fight?
"If you didn't know about the fight," she began, sitting down opposite him after having retrieved the juices from the floor, "then what did you mean by 'there you are'?"
Reeve did not answer and instead poured all of his attention on his plate. "So about this fight…?"
"Wait a second," Yuffie's brain was just starting to move its gears. "You were expecting me! You were waiting for me, weren't you?!"
Reeve quickly placed a hand on his mouth, hiding part of his face from view. But the rose of Wutai had the eyes of a hawk and… he was blushing? He was blushing! She felt like jumping, pointing at his face and announcing to the world that Reeve actually wanted to have lunch with her! But she knew that if she did that she would probably get herself kicked out of his office, so...
"You are so annoying," Reeve sighed.
Yuffie leaned forward, across the desk so that their faces were pretty close. She wanted to see his blush! She really did. So she said playfully, "But you like that, don't ya?"
"As a matter of fact, I do," he responded, honest.
To her surprise, before the words fully registered, he suddenly leaned forward, closing the small gap separating them. Before she knew it, his lips were pressed against hers. They were softer than they'd looked and much more… well, yummier! When he moved back, though, she realized belatedly that her eyes were still as wide as saucers and her cheeks were probably painted with twice the shade of red. Damn him! How had he been able to turn the table on her so easily! Wow, she was a little lightheaded and the room was warm and all she could think about was that softness and-
"That out of the way, about that fight…?" he said, leaning back, intent on starting his meal.
Yuffie glared. Damn him, he was already moving to the food when all she wanted was to kiss him again! "How do you do that?!"
-o0o-
Uriel's hands were trembling as he reached out to touch the inanimate body lying on the table. He placed his hand atop his chest, searching for a pulse. The body was still warm but growing cold.
"He's dead," he informed, feeling his chest tightening with the words. He blinked back his tears. It was strange how this little one had just created a void in his life. For it was pain that twisted his heart, wasn't it?
Raphael nodded, his expression one of brief surprise before he became pensive. He turned to the third person in the room and studied her for a while. Uriel could barely look at her. Was she really this heartless? How could she stand there, untouched by the loss of an innocent!
"You took it all out?" Raphael asked. In answer, Azriel lifted a small vial half-filled with black liquid. She topped it with a lid and offered it to Raphael. The man took it, inspected it and said, "And the boy had to die?"
Azriel shrugged, "You wanted it all out. I did as ordered."
"I see." Raphael turned to leave, adding over his shoulder, "Well that's a shame. Do give him a proper burial… he was innocent after all."
Uriel couldn't help feeling as though the world had just become a darker place. He had a tender spot for children given that, once upon a time, he'd had some of his own. If it had been up to him, Uriel wouldn't have allowed this boy to die. He would've fought for him, he would've protected him… unlike a certain someone. He glanced at Azriel. She was busy cleaning the utensils she'd used. Her mismatched eyes looked lifeless, her expression stoic.
"You are heartless," Uriel told her, squashing the temptation to slap her across the face.
It was the greatest sin to kill a child, and those who wield the blade deserved no mercy. The faces of the men who'd killed his family flashed before his eyes. He'd mutilated them, butchered them in the cruelest way possible. Death had been more than they'd deserved, but his emotions had pushed him to cut a little too much and they'd died on his table.
Of course, that did little to alleviate the sense of guilt that rose with the memory. Those men had killed his family in order to get to him, to kidnap him. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the images of his lifeless family. If only they hadn't been there with him, if only they hadn't tried to run to him, to save him from men they didn't understand were monsters… True, he'd lost it when they'd open fire on his family; lost it when he'd seen their bodies crumbling lifeless on the ground; lost it when he'd grabbed the men and slammed the weapons from their hands; lost it when the knife he'd used to cut vegetables ended red with their blood. But then all that anger, all of that pain, all of that energy had drained out of him. What use was fighting when he'd been stripped from his reason for living?
He snapped out of his reverie when he felt eyes on him. Azriel was regarding him in silence from across the room. "What?" he snapped.
"You said I was heartless, but what use would an echo have for a heart?" He didn't know what to say to that, so he kept quiet. After a moment, Azriel shrugged. "Uriel, if you care so much for this corpse, then why don't you return it to its parents? If there is to be a burial, wouldn't it be less troublesome for them to do it?"
"You speak cruelties, Azriel," he whispered.
"Then I'll just bury him myself." She said, focusing back on cleaning.
Uriel zeroed on the child. He was already cold under his touch, much like his own children had been. But the more he thought about that thoughtless advice, the more it started to make sense in a weird kind of way. Perhaps it would be less cruel to give them back the corpse rather than to have them wondering what had what befell the baby?
"What is this?" he asked, when he noticed a number written in marker on the inner part of the baby's arm. The numbers were small and there was also a strange symbol before them.
"Measurement," she responded casually, "I was afraid I would forget what dose of mako I needed to use."
"It didn't keep him alive, now, did it?"
"No, but it kept it alive long enough."
"You're cruel," he insisted, grabbing the baby's corpse, feeling tears burning in his eyes. He was so little, so fragile, so innocent. His life had just begun, did it truly had to end like this?
"You've said that already." She looked down at the baby and pointed. "So, what do we do with it?"
He hated that she kept calling him it, as though he was a thing. He didn't want her anywhere near him, no matter that he was already dead. "I will take him back to his parents."
"Will Raphael be okay with that?"
Uriel shrugged. He didn't know. But what harm could it do? The baby was already dead. In honor of that pure life that had to be sacrificed, he would chance his brother's anger. With that, he grabbed a blanket, wrapped the baby in it, before he pulled out his silver wing and disappeared.
To be continued…
AN: Wow! I had fun writing this chapter! Anyhow, the final battle is drawing near! Please review and let me know what you think so far if you get the chance!
Fanart: I've included two more drawings for this fic. You can use the links below (get rid of the spaces) or go to my profile and you'll see them there!
Rie version 02: art / Rie-OneWingedAngels-220006664
Jenova: art / OWA-Jenova-239070344?q=gallery%3Agigi-fenixphoenix&qo=0