Chapter Fifty-Four: Broken Promise
Cloud followed Ratcliff through Sector 8 at several paces behind. He couldn't keep up with the man as he kept on darting into restaurants, but then immediately darted back out, unsatisfied. After about four restaurants Cloud was able to get an answer out of him as to why he was changing his mind.
"Too many people. Don't know who could be watching," he muttered, then stalked past down the street.
Again he darted out of three more restaurants. By the tenth restaurant they were already near Sector 7, and so they walked several blocks until they reached it to continue on Ratcliff's hunt.
Another two … another three …
Cloud finally seized Ratcliff's shoulder before he was able to enter yet another restaurant, and Cloud couldn't stop himself from sounding both irritated and exhausted as he spoke. "I think that's enough. I doubt we're being followed."
"You don't know that, yeah."
"I do. Kunsel said the Turks would be busy tracking the Genesis Copies."
Ratcliff seemed to mull this around for a bit, shifting on his feet and glancing around to the surrounding businesses. He too was looking tired in their search, and both their stomachs were complaining aloud with Cloud.
"Fine. In here."
Cloud followed him into what he hoped was the last restaurant they would enter.
It was a shabby little place, maybe cozy if one could try to argue, but the air inside was warm and smelled of decent food, which was what they both needed. And it was empty, which was what they especially needed.
They were led to a table and seated by a hostess that barely gave them a second glance as she handed them their menus. Normally they would have found that to be rude, but the fact that she seemed to care less if they were there meant one less suspected spy in their paranoid minds. After a few moments a bored-looking waiter brought them tea without asking if they wanted any, took their orders with an uninterested stance, and then walked off. At least he had been quick about it.
"Satisfied?" Cloud asked once the waiter ducked into the kitchen area and out of sight.
"For now, yeah."
"Look, Ratcliff, we really need to talk."
Ratcliff ignored him, fiddling with the small teapot until the bag was deposited in and dunked a few times. "Your mom makes really good tea," he said, his tone evasive.
"My mom?"
"Yeah, met her when I was in Nibelheim. She's a lovely woman. Very pretty, yeah."
The blush on Cloud's face went ignored as well, thankfully.
"Her rose tea with the cinnamon … it was so cute, yeah."
Cloud snorted, shaking his head. "Not when you grow up with it and it's the only thing to drink in the house sometimes. I used to beg for soda."
Ratcliff laughed a little, but it sounded distant. "Well, I liked it, yeah. She's a very gracious woman."
"I guess."
"Graves met her too, yeah. She told me."
Cloud was silent, staring down into his empty teacup. He debated if this were a good time to bring it up, and eventually decided it was as good a time as any, especially since Ratcliff was the one to bring up both Nibelheim and Graves. He wiggled in his chair, mumbling a thanks as Ratcliff poured him a cup of tea.
"What really happened there?" he asked when Ratcliff was done.
The man cursed under his breath as he poured too much in his own, and the tea spilled over the cup and onto the saucer. He became conveniently distracted with cleaning up the mess he had made.
"You invited me out. You brought this up. You need to talk about it."
Ratcliff tossed a napkin to the side when he was done blotting the area around his saucer, and he hung his head, staring down into his lap for a very long time. "I watched Graves die right in my arms, Cloud," he muttered.
"You were ordered, Ratcliff. It's either obey or get punished."
"No, it wasn't on an order, yeah." Ratcliff said, shaking his head. His eyes crept up to meet Cloud's nervously. "I lied."
"Lied? Was it an accident?"
Ratcliff was quiet again until he gained up the courage to speak, and when he did, it was in complete, confessing detail about what really had happened on the entire mission. He told Cloud about how they had been tracking Graves from town to town, and how they had even interviewed his uncle in Corel to find him. He told Cloud about how Haskin and Luxiere were so adamant about finding him that they changed their tactic to focus not on trailing Graves, but on Mejia and where he could have gone. They felt that wherever Mejia had run, Graves would surely follow.
Through a cracking voice and tears Ratcliff then told Cloud about how they were led to Nibelheim, how they searched the town for him, and the only lead that he was able to find was through Cloud's own mother which led him to the mako reactor on Mt. Nibel with the boy, Pawn. He recounted the smell and eerie glow of the mako coming from strange pods installed inside. He spoke of horrendous and unworldly monsters trapped in them, showing fading signs that they were once human.
And Casey Graves had been among those monsters, disfigured and no longer.
"He was trapped in some … p-pod thing," Ratcliff said, his voice barely audible. "Test, experiments ... I don't know who or what could have done that to him, yeah … but the p-pod had some sort of l-life support, Cloud. I-I opened it … and he died. I k-killed him trying to save him. I wanted nothing more than to run away."
Ratcliff never looked up as he spoke to see if Cloud were soaking this in, if he were believing him, or even if he were crying. Maybe he didn't need to look at him to know.
"A monster?" Cloud whispered, each word shaking with disbelief. "Graves … a monster? Wh-who could have put him in there?"
Ratcliff shook his head grimly, eyes staring intently into his tea. "He was chasing Mejia … maybe he had something to do with it."
"M-Mejia wouldn't be able to get in there, Ratcliff."
"I got in there, didn't I?"
Cloud fell quiet.
"Think about it. How'd he get like that to begin with, yeah? We were the first unit to be sent out to find him. None of us did that to him, Cloud. Someone had to've gotten to him before we did, yeah."
"But … Mejia is dead …"
"When did he die exactly?"
"I don't know–"
"Who reported him dead?"
"I don't know–"
"Who killed him?"
"Ratcliff …"
"Shin-Ra did, yeah. That's who. All it takes is one phone call from one fat cat, and lies can be turned into truth, yeah!"
They suddenly forced themselves quiet and seemingly normal as their waiter served them, but neither made a move to eat once he walked away. Whatever composure they gathered then quickly crumbled.
"I can't take it anymore, Cloud," Ratcliff said desperately, voice hoarse. "Every week he takes me back there … reliving it. It's torture."
"H-he? Bleier?" Cloud whispered again, his eyes never leaving Ratcliff's body as the man's head sunk down into his hands.
Ratcliff nodded, his fingertips curling into his temples as they remained hiding his face. "Shin-Ra's trying to get some sort of confession out of me, I know it, yeah. Pawn too. Th-they don't have proof that we entered the reactor and saw what we saw. That's why they're ordering me to see h-him, yeah."
"They're doing this to you," Cloud took several breaths to calm himself, "… to get a confession?"
Ratcliff nodded again, removing one hand to blindly push a napkin to Cloud when tears silently spilled over. "M-Me and Pawn … we were able to get G-Graves back into that pod and get ourselves out of the reactor in time, yeah. H-Haskin wasn't given clearance to enter after he ordered us back to the inn, but he still reported his suspicions. We left in the morning … I-I don't think he ever got inside, yeah. B-but that doesn't mean the T-Turks didn't investigate afterwards."
Cloud didn't take the napkin and instead wiped his eyes with his shaking hand. "How did you even get in in the first place?"
"Texted Kunsel," Ratcliff said quietly. "He got the code somehow, yeah."
"That's … that's just …" Cloud fell silent, unable to form any words that would come close to the repulsion he was feeling.
"Dr. B-Bleier has tried and tried again, yeah … b-but it's not like it's some m-magical truth serum, yeah," Ratcliff continued. "When we get to the reactor and he asks me what's inside, I always come out of it right before I can answer, yeah. N-No way in hell I'm gonna admit to that," he said, shaking his head defiantly, "n-no matter how many pills he shoves down my throat or how many times he tries to hypnotize me, yeah."
"But … what about … other things?"
Ratcliff pulled his hands away and peered at him strangely. "What things?"
"I-I don't know. I mean … I asked someone about h-hypnosis. This person said that in that state the power of suggestion can be strong …"
"Was it Dr. Arolin, yeah?"
Cloud felt a sheepish look come over his face, but Ratcliff actually smiled a little, even if it were very faint.
"I thought so, yeah."
"Bleier … he's not suggesting anything, is he?"
Ratcliff frowned and looked away. His leg began to bounce. "No … not that I remember."
Cloud groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. "Ratcliff …"
"I-I don't have a choice, Cloud," Ratcliff snapped, "if I ditch these sessions, they'll throw me in the brig."
"But if you confess, you'll be killed."
Ratcliff seemed to weigh this, but only for a brief moment. "That won't happen, yeah. I always manage to snap myself out of it in time."
"Can you really rely on that?"
Ratcliff was clearly becoming irritated and his leg began to bounce more. "I don't have a damn choice, yeah."
Cloud's watched as Ratcliff's tea nearly spill out again from the table shaking, then Cloud went back to watch as he started rapping his fingers against his mouth before nervously nibbling on one of his nails, then went back to rapping again in obvious discomfort.
"Are you sure Bleier's not suggesting anything strange to you?"
Ratcliff stopped moving in an instant and made eye contact with him. "Like what?"
"I don't know," Cloud murmured, feeling his face contort in distress. He knew a headache was about to start, but how bad of one remained uncertain. "Just … strange things or ideas."
"Be more specific."
He opened his mouth to force words out – all the words that had been churning inside his mind – but someone spoke nearby and stopped him from saying anything. It even stopped him from breathing.
Cloud paled, Ratcliff tensed.
The redheaded Turk was sitting two tables away with his back to them. He was looking at a menu. Their waiter was taking his order.
Ratcliff turned his head to see behind. He turned back to Cloud, suddenly angry. "Weren't you watching the damn door?" he whispered harshly, causing Cloud to shrink into himself.
"I-I wasn't paying attention, I-I'm sorry."
"Y-you're in on this, aren't you? Shin-Ra put you up to tricking me into a confession."
"No," Cloud whispered back, glancing to the Turk, then back into Ratcliff's wild expression. "Why would you even think something like that?"
"Fuck," Ratcliff said under his breath, now looking haunted, uncertain of what to think and what to do.
The Turk continued about his business and never glanced their way.
"I-I gotta go, Cloud, yeah? I gotta go."
Cloud watched as Ratcliff rose, arms shaking as they pushed his body up from the chair, legs wobbling and mind in shambles.
"Ratcliff, wait … he could've just gotten here. Sit back down," Cloud said as calmly as he could.
Ratcliff stopped for a moment, a moment that was filled with painful regret. "Y-you know too m-much, yeah. I-I'm not gonna let you be involved anymore. I was stupid f-for telling you anything. You b-better leave too, yeah."
Cloud stayed behind, watching as Ratcliff left without giving him nor the Turk a second glance.
Their dinner was long since cold, now boxed up in foam containers from the restaurant and stacked neatly in Cloud's locker with the hope that the food would still be edible by the time Ratcliff returned. And Cloud had long since retired to his bunk, but was still fighting to stay awake with the hope that Ratcliff would return.
It was cold in the barrack, air dry and silent with the unit gone in aiding with the recovery effort. The lights were off with nothing but a faint glow from floodlights in the bathroom area breaking through the darkness. Water dripped in the showers like a metronome keeping steady the rhythm of seconds, minutes, now hours that passed as Cloud waited.
It was a lonely ambience – chilling and almost maddening. The only time he had felt this alone had been when waiting outside Zack's door for him to return from his vacation; the longing silence in that hallway and in his heart making him all the more desperate for the comfort of another.
How long had it been since he had that? How long since a caress graced his cheek, or his hair brushed from his face? How long since a blanket of warmth, whether from love or friendship, had been wrapped around him with security?
How long had it been since he gave that to another for whom he cared?
A forward kiss …
A song of shared laughter …
A genuine embrace?
How long had it been since Ratcliff felt this?
How long since Zack had felt that love for which Cloud, too, was now longing?
To think of how lonely they were and how he had caused this for everyone made him hurt unbearably – a hurt in which he knew he deserved but was selfish to no longer wish to feel.
Would it be too late to turn back that rhythm of seconds, minutes, hours?
Would it be too late to say 'I'm sorry'?
'Forgive me'?
To say 'I love you'?
A crack of light crawled across the floor, only a single door opening as someone slipped inside, and then it was gone. Cloud lifted his head to see Ratcliff's form shuffling in, his face and body scarcely illuminated by the faint lights.
Time was no longer allowed to drip through Cloud's fingers.
The blanket covering him as he lay in bed was discarded to the tiled floor, hesitation falling alongside it. He ran to Ratcliff, arms opening wide and wrapping around the man's body to hold him, to console him, to apologize, to ask for forgiveness, to forgive, to love.
Ratcliff did the same in return. Neither spoke. There wasn't a need when Cloud still held tight and Ratcliff's heart beat heavy against Cloud's chest.
Eventually they pulled apart, and Cloud was the first to speak and push away the last of that longing silence in the room.
"I saved your dinner."
Ratcliff laughed a little, head turning to the side in embarrassment but with no actual response. He merely followed Cloud as he started to head toward their lockers.
The lights were turned on and Cloud pulled out the containers, handing one to Ratcliff after peeking inside to see to whom each belonged, and they sat together on the dressing bench, resuming the dinner that should have been enjoyed hours before. Ratcliff even mumbled an apology for having skipped out on the bill when he had said he would pay, and he fished around in his pocket to reimburse Cloud for everything.
"Sorry if the food is dead. I had no where else to put it but my locker," Cloud said, poking around his food with his fork. "It probably made your shirt smell like food, too."
"My shirt?"
Cloud nodded and motioned to his open locker. Ratcliff's dress shirt lay folded neatly on one of the shelves inside. "The one you let me borrow for my first date with Zack."
Ratcliff looked at the shirt and then looked away. "Oh, yeah … that one."
"I've had it for a while. I should probably give it back to you."
"Keep it, yeah? I don't need it. You will, though, yeah."
Cloud set his fork down, swallowing hard for a moment before speaking with uncertainty. "I don't know about that. Things are kind of rough with Zack right now."
"Think he's still mad at me, yeah?"
"I-I don't know," Cloud said, shrugging a little. "I hope not."
"You still mad at me?"
He looked to Ratcliff, a soft smile on his face. "No, I'm not."
"I'm sorry, yeah? About everything." Ratcliff set his food aside, and Cloud was pleased to see that he had eaten most of it. He fidgeted, suddenly looking very conflicted and Cloud was unsure why. "But … Zack's back now, yeah? I saw him and Kunsel walking through the halls when I was coming back. They're probably gonna go through a debriefing before heading home. You should go see him before everyone here gets back, yeah."
Cloud's stomach twisted, heart fluttering in a strange way that made him both nervous and excited. It was reminiscent of old feelings he would have when he knew he would be able to see Zack and spend time with him. It was reminiscent of a time before everything turned out this way, before innocence was stripped, lies told, and friends lost.
"He promised he'd talk to you, yeah? Go and see him. Patch things up."
"It's okay," Cloud said with a nod to assure himself, "I know he'll keep his promise when I'm ready." He looked to Ratcliff, mustering up a grin. "Besides, we're eating dinner. Just you and me, yeah?"
Ratcliff laughed. He laughed and he cried. He put his arm around Cloud and pulled him close. "You're too cute, yeah." He leaned over, kissing the side of his head in a fatherly way, pulling away with tears down his face; yet he was neither sobbing, nor speaking with his voice trembling. "Thank you, Cloud. Thank you."
Cloud smiled encouragingly until his eyes darted down to the tears now meeting beneath Ratcliff's chin.
"Things'll be okay, yeah?" Ratcliff said almost in an upbeat tone when Cloud frowned. "Zack loves you, you know that." His arm tightened around Cloud's shoulders. "And … I …"
Ratcliff silenced himself and paused entirely for quite some time. Cloud waited, the dripping of the water the only indicator that time was still passing as they stayed motionless.
"What? Tell me, Ratcliff."
Ratcliff finally shook his head, returning the smile, but sadly. He motioned down to the ignored vegetables in Cloud's container of food. "E-Eat your broccoli, yeah."
Cloud was confused at first, but then looked down and pouted at them with disdain. "But they're stinky …"
"C'mon. We'd all want you to, yeah."
He considered this for a brief moment and then complied, but not without a grunt of disgust.
Ratcliff chuckled a little. It died quickly and they fell quiet as they continued to eat.
Not much else was said, only more urging for Cloud to finish off his meal. Cloud did the same to Ratcliff, who, too, reluctantly complied.
Eventually Cloud retired to his bunk once they were done, and Ratcliff lingered to clean up their mess. Cloud lay alone for a while, listening to periods of complete silence and then Ratcliff rummaging around in his locker, only for sounds to still. Perhaps he was smoking Graves' cigarettes again.
"Ratcliff?" Cloud called after one of those bouts of silence.
"You're not asleep yet?" Ratcliff called back, voice slightly alarmed.
"I was waiting for you."
"Don't wait for me, yeah" he said, "I'm not worth losing sleep over."
Cloud heard Ratcliff shut his locker, then the lights shut off with darkness following. He moved to their bunk with a slow gait, sighing with a heaviness that weighed down even on Cloud from across the room.
Ratcliff situated himself in his bunk, fidgeting around uncomfortably for a while. They lay together for quite some time without saying anything, but both knew the other was awake. It was Ratcliff who finally spoke first.
"You really should see him, yeah?" he said, a pleading tone to his voice. "Do it before everyone comes back."
"I can see him tomorrow."
"Please, Cloud. Go see him now."
"I wouldn't even know what to say to him."
"You'll think of something, yeah? Just … go to him."
"But–"
"Please."
Cloud sat up in bed, looking at Ratcliff's mattress above his with a deep frown. "You really think I should?"
"You miss him?"
"Yeah, of course."
"You want to be with him, yeah?"
"I do," Cloud murmured, face now alight with a bashful smile.
There was a long pause.
"You love him … right?"
Cloud said nothing, but he continued to smile.
Another long, heavy pause.
"Go," Ratcliff whispered, urging him. "Go be with Zack."
Only a moment longer did Cloud take to think about it, and he kicked away his covers with that earlier excitement coming back. He dressed himself as quickly as possible, Ratcliff bid him a quiet goodnight, and he made his way to the SOLDIER housing floor.
Thoughts were blank, reserving themselves for the explanations, the apologies and the confessions to come. Instinct was what took him there. Instinct made him enter the floor, walk down that hallway and knock on that door.
But instinct only took him that far. It disappeared when Zack did not answer.
He stood staring at the door and trying to keep calm as past emotions began to flood him. It was a sudden, chilling grip of solitude, reminding him of everything that he had felt the last time he was before this closed door and wanting the person behind it.
Perhaps Zack was still attending a debriefing; Cloud would simply wait for him. The time that he would spending waiting for Zack to return home would be short lived compared to the time that Zack had spent waiting for Cloud and never knowing if he would return.
There was no more need to feel anxious over a closed door.
Not when Cloud had the key.
It was quiet when he arrived back at the barracks. The men still had not returned, and he felt guilty for having left Ratcliff alone in that silence. Even the dripping of the water in the showers seemed to have stopped.
Through everything he had completely forgotten about the key to Zack's apartment. It lay unused and buried inside his locker. He didn't think he would have a need for it again, not after what he had done to Zack.
Atonement for his actions, hope for forgiveness, and truth to come all resided inside, held firmly in the structure of its metal, in its teeth. It was retrieved with a nervous hand and gripped with determination.
Cloud shut his locker, passing one nearby which sat ignored, its door ajar with contents strewn about in conflict. He passed another two which had been emptied long before. He passed two bunks which, too, were empty — owners but a memory with time moving on without them.
Cloud gripped the key tighter.
His own bunk was passed. Above Ratcliff lay; arm hanging off the side, perfectly still; soundless, but for once not sleepless.
Below Cloud's blankets were in disarray, the bars of his metal footboard warped from where he had been thrown against so long ago, his pillow indented from where he had lain his head … his mattress now a resting place for an object that had not been there before he had left, and certainly didn't belong.
He walked over and picked it up, unfolding it. He sat down on his bunk, staring but not reading, reading but not understanding, understanding but not believing.
Ink was in disarray on yellow legal paper, hints of indents pressed into its page from where past letters had been written to friends, family, maybe lovers … now a resting place for intimate words.
That rhythm — he began to hear it again as he read.
'Cloud,'
Faintly … very faintly.
'Promises can be fulfilled. And they can be broken.'
Slow … much … slower.
'I tried, but I could never keep my own.'
Drip …
'I'm passing it onto you.'
… after …
'Tell him you love him.'
He stood in panic. His foot bumped against something hard below.
Beneath the shadow of Ratcliff's hand, a familiar 9mm handgun lay on the floor.
… drip.
Cloud upturned his head; blood fell onto his brow, onto his cheek from above.
Johnny Ratcliff was dead.
… To be continued in Chapter Fifty-Five: The Perfect Truth.
Author's Shameful Note: I'm deeply sorry to all of the Ratcliff fans...just know that I was a fucking sobbing wreck when writing this and proof reading it.
On a lighter note: Rose tea with cinnamon is actually really good. I forgot to mention that when I first wrote about Cinnamon Rose and her tea back in the Nibelheim arc with Graves, I actually went out to buy rose tea and put cinnamon in it to make sure it actually tasted good before I wrote such a thing. It's now my dad's favorite drink and obsesses over it. XD He thinks I should open up my own tea shop with strange flavors like this. He's so hilarious.
So yeah. Try it. It's really good.
Um...anyway, I feel strange right now...like some sort of murderer.
If you all don't hate my guts now, come back on Christmas. I'll have the next chapter up for you all as a present. Or maybe it's really an apology.
