Quick note... This chapter contains scenes of torture. Please be aware.

Cloud hovered at the bar, elbows resting on the wooden counter. A lot had happened in the hour since Cid got shot, but he didn't feel as though they were moving forwards. Frustration reigned, giving a bitter edge to the fear.

The ambulance turned up quicker than he expected. Two medics in Shinra uniform disembarked carrying a gurney and various other bits of kit, bouncing jargon back and forth that Cloud couldn't make any sense of. They weren't phased by Cid's sickly appearance or the homemade sutures they'd applied, and they were professionally calm as they hooked him up to their machines and carted him away.

Cloud wondered whether somebody should have gone with him. Cid was less sentimental than some men, but waking up in a hospital bed alone wasn't pleasant. Cloud should know; it happened to him enough times during training. Unable to tear himself away from the bar he rang Vincent and filled him in.

Reeve was at Shinra HQ. He'd offered to take Yuffie and the kids to a safe house where Rude and the President were also headed. Red would go with them, and Vincent would go to Cid. He didn't think they'd target the aeronaut again, but they needed to be careful. Cloud agreed, reassured by the plan.

Vincent's parting words reneged on that comfort, his voice bleak.

"If we are to assume Reno is correct… if she has Tifa..."

"I know." Cloud couldn't think of any other response; he didn't want to have the conversation.

"You must prepare yourself for the worst."

"I am."

The lie left his mouth with little resistance. With nothing else to say, he cut the call.

The bar was a mess. Broken windows filtered odd shadows onto the floor where bullets had gouged long grooves into the wood. Furniture was upturned, stools broken. Bloodstains glistened stickily in the light.

Chaos. The scene in front of him was a mirror to the storm inside his head. He battened down the hatches and forced his attention outward.

Tseng had taken the prisoner down to the basement whilst Cloud kept a watchful eye, concerned for the man's welfare. They required information, and he was the only source they had. They needed him alive. It surprised him when Tseng bound the man to a chair and crudely bandaged the wounds he'd inflicted, saying nothing.

When he finally spoke, it was to deliver an order. "Nobody in or out. Are we clear?"

Cloud could only nod. With that cold instruction, Tseng had retreated upstairs, not seeking permission to invade their privacy as he disappeared into the dwelling above the bar. Cloud didn't challenge him. Distance from the Turk was likely the only thing keeping their prisoner breathing.

Before he left the room, he asked the question that was burning on his lips.

"Is Tifa alive?"

The man stared at him through narrowed eyes that struggled to focus. They slid closed, and he turned his face to the wall. Anger twisted in Cloud's gut, a bright hot flash that cut through him and boiled his blood.

"Is she?" he repeated.

The walls felt like they were falling in on him, adrenaline bringing claustrophobia crashing down with it. Choking for air, with sweat prickling at his skin and his heart hammering in his chest, he left the basement and headed back to the bar.

There he waited, unsure what the correct next step was. As the minutes ticked by, his pulse slowed and with it came the onslaught of his guilt.

A stool clattered noisily upright, pulling his attention with it. Barret was tidying up one-handed, each piece of furniture being thrown into place with a little more anger than the last. He'd already mopped up as much of the blood as he could and swept up the broken glass. A picture frame sat on the bar by Cloud's elbow and he tried not to look at it. Tifa's face beamed up at him beneath the shattered glass.

The anger in his gut curled like burning paper, each piece that caught only fueling the flames. Anger at Erin, at Shinra, at himself. Unable to do anything else, he waited for it all to implode.

"This is all their goddamn fault!" Barret set a stool down on the floor with so much force it skittered away and toppled over again. "None of this would've happened if it wasn't for Shinra."

Cloud thought back to the first assault. Denzel and Marlene. It was difficult to link it back to the company, apart from the car belonging to Rude. They targeted the kids because of Avalanche's actions, not because of Shinra.

"Blaming them doesn't help anybody," he said levelly, not moving to help him clean up. "This is on us."

"Yeah? How d'you figure that?"

Cloud shrugged a shoulder, his response purposefully non-committal. His eyes snagged on the photo again. How much longer could they force blame at Shinra's door?

"Damn reactors… Sephiroth… Meteor… Everything is their fault!"

"We have to take responsibility for what we did, Barret. We couldn't outrun this forever."

"Don't you care? They've got Tifa. You saw what she did to Reno and the bastard's a Turk!"

Although the smoke cleared, there was still a metallic taste to the air that made his throat tight. He cleared his throat.

"I know."

"Well?"

Cloud sighed. "I care, but getting angry won't help her. Angry people make mistakes."

"So what the hell do we do?"

Barret grabbed the fallen stool and set it upright, climbing onto it. The slump in his shoulders screamed defeat. Cloud knew the outburst was more a coping mechanism than genuine anger at Shinra. Whilst Cloud was careful to keep his feelings concealed, Barret's heart lay firmly on his sleeve.

"We wait," Cloud said. "Erin will make contact, eventually. When she does we'll go from there."

He didn't know what else to do. The void of Tifa's absence had taken residence in his chest, fear of the unknown threatening to tear him down. Unable to provide a more solid answer, he couldn't elaborate further on the plan.

"Yeah, and what if she doesn't? What if Tifa's already-"

"She's not," he snapped before Barret could give voice to his fear.

"How d'you know that?"

Tifa wouldn't be dead. She couldn't. She'd smiled at Cloud as he settled in behind the bar, reminding him how the till worked, what the measures were, how to work the dodgy pump they never got around to fixing… He didn't need the guide; he remembered. He spent enough time behind the bar in the early days, when they first opened up and the steady stream of customers didn't allow time to stop and think about anything else. The familiar processes helped to distract him from thoughts of where she was going and who she would be with.

"She's not," he repeated, turning the photograph over so her face wasn't smiling up at him anymore.

Acceptance of her and Reno was easy enough to show in the face of her anxious expression. She told him where she was going as a peace offering, a tangible demonstration that things were okay between them. In return, he smiled reassuringly but couldn't find words to back it up. Whatever this thing with her and Reno was, it worried him. She'd gone to him, and now she was in trouble.

Deep down, he knew Reno wasn't to blame. It was a hard truth to ignore, though. If she'd stayed at the bar, Cloud could've kept her safe.

"We should be doing something!" Barret roared.

He didn't have a response to give. What else could they do but wait?

Somebody hammering on the door put an end to the argument. Cloud wrenched it open. He knew something was badly wrong the second he saw Reno's face.

"Where's Tseng?"

Reno pushed past him and headed into the bar. He was missing the trademark suit and cut a strange figure in more casual clothing. Lanky, dishevelled and altogether too normal, his mag-rod was in his left hand, his fingers curled tight around the hilt. There was no trace of his usual cocky smirk or scathing wit. Instead, his eyes were hollow, and the tension was clear in his jaw.

He looked scared.

"Reno, wait..." Cloud followed him across the bar.

"She's got them."

Reno slowed, eyes on the bullet holes in the polished floor. He scuffed his boot against the splintered wood and turned on his heel.

"You're sure?" Cloud asked.

The Turk didn't stop moving, every footstep erratic, just like Barret and his frenzied cleaning.

"Where's Tseng?" he repeated.

"Reno! Are you sure?"

He turned again. Took another couple of steps. Faltered. Turned.

"If you don't stop wearing a hole in the goddamn floor, I'm gonna put a bullet in you," Barret growled. "Sit down and answer the damn question!"

"Erin's got her! What more do you need to fucking know?"

"Calm down," said Cloud.

"She's got Tifa. I don't know where! I don't… I can't..."

Agitated, his words stuttered out, and he swung his weapon. Barret stood up and Cloud readied himself for the collision.

"We care about her too," said Barret, his voice far gentler than Cloud expected. "Calm the hell down. Losing your damn head won't help nobody."

Cloud saw it then; resignation filtered across Reno's face. He lowered his mag-rod.

"She's in trouble. Poison," he said, despondency ringing through his tone. "And they… hurt Elena."

"But they're both alive?"

He nodded.

"Right, that's something," said Barret. "Where are they?"

"We couldn't tell… Fucking video wasn't clear enough."

"What video?" asked Cloud.

"She sent it to us."

"Show me."

The knot in Cloud's stomach tightened. The simple order left little colour in Reno's face as fear gave way to alarm. Tseng stood in the shadows, his expression impossible to read.

"Sir..."

"Show me," Tseng repeated, holding out his hand.

Reno swallowed hard, pulling his PHS from his pocket. He fumbled with the device before handing it over. Cloud could hear voices but couldn't make out the words. A tortured scream pierced the air. Tseng's eyes narrowed.

It was a while before he spoke.

"When?" he said, voice carefully controlled.

"Twenty minutes. I came straight here."

"The President?"

"With Rude."

"What's happened?" asked Cloud, heading for Tseng.

He didn't reply, just held the PHS out.

"See for yourself," muttered Reno.

Cloud watched the video play out on the cracked screen. He was vaguely aware of footsteps behind him, and then Barret's presence in his peripheral vision. He watched Tifa, broken and crying on the ground… Erin's gloating expression… Elena, battered, bloody and angry… When Garrison stepped forward, bolt-cutters in his hand, Cloud's stomach turned. He looked away.

"Son of a bitch." Barret bristled beside him.

Tseng moved with purpose, walking behind the bar. He snatched one of the few unbroken bottles off the back shelf and poured a generous measure into a tumbler he found in the rack overhead. Cloud watched him knock back the amber liquid, feeling as though the ground was sliding beneath him. Elena's anguished howl reverberated around his head.

Poison. Cloud understood what that meant. Time was running out, and Elena and Tifa were expendable to them, as Garrison had proven. This time it was a warning; next time they might not be so lucky.

"She sent it to us," said Reno, his voice empty. "Elena's finger. She fucking sent it to us."

"What are we waiting for?" Barret's growl became a strangled yell. "Tifa needs us!"

"We don't know where they are," Cloud replied.

"I know somebody that does," said Reno. "Give me fifteen minutes with him. I'll make him talk."

Cloud pictured the man downstairs, wrists and ankles tightly bound to the chair. The similarities to Elena were chilling enough already, and Reno's voice had an edge that made Cloud's skin crawl. He wasn't naïve. The Turks earned their reputation as Shinra's violent right hand. Reno wasn't lying; he'd get the information they needed.

Cloud knew what torture looked like. He'd spent long enough at Hojo's hands to understand how pain could inspire a man to talk. Setting the Turks on their prisoner appealed to him, and not just out of practicality. Part of him wanted the man to suffer. Part of him sought reprisal.

He thought of Tifa. She wouldn't want this.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

Cloud shook his head decisively. "There has to be another way."

"Another way?" There was venom in his words now; Reno took a step towards him. "You wanna play the game, Bitch? You play by our rules or you back the fuck off."

"Tifa wouldn't want this."

"She ain't here."

Tseng hurled his glass at the wall. It shattered, sending shards flying. Reno winced.

"I'll deal with him," Tseng said, turning towards the door that led down to the basement.

Cloud's PHS started ringing. He wrenched it from his pocket, surprised to see Tifa's name on the screen. With shaking hands, he accepted the call and pressed it to his ear.

"Tifa?"

Both Reno and Tseng froze when they heard her name. Reno's eyes widened.

"Hello, Cloud." The voice on the other end was unexpected, as lyrical as it had been on the night outside Johnny's bar.

"Cloud?" Reno made to snatch the PHS from his hand and Tseng threw his hand out to stop him.

"I'm sorry if our evening together caused you any trouble. Don't take it too personally. I needed to get your attention, and I thought… Well… You looked so lonely… and I'm lonely too."

Ice formed in his gut. He placed the PHS on the counter, fumbling for the button to put the call on loudspeaker. His fingers hovered, tracing a familiar worn knot in the wood. A splinter snagged his fingertip.

"Maybe we got off on the wrong foot." She could've been an old friend, her tone as sweet as honey. "We're on the same side, you and I... I realise that now. We can stop them if we work together... You know what Shinra are capable of. They took everything away from you… From both of us. And they'll never stop."

Tifa. Reno didn't take her away; she wasn't Cloud's to lose. Her connection to the Turk had brought them closer, a needed remedy to the pressures they'd put themselves under. Cloud might not like it, but he couldn't blame Reno for it.

"What do you want?"

"The President. My brother."

"Wait a damned-"

Cloud held his hand up, silencing Barret.

"Hello, Barret. Is Marlene feeling better? I'm so sorry… My associates got a little… carried away."

There was genuine remorse in her tone. Cloud's palm collided with Barret's chest as the man lunged toward the bar.

"Marlene's fine," said Cloud. "I want to speak to Tifa."

"That's not possible. Tifa isn't feeling well."

"What do you want, Erin?" he repeated.

"I have a proposition for you."

"I'm listening."

"Bring my brother to me. He's a threat to us all. Let me deal with him. Cut off the head and the beast will wither and die."

Tseng's mouth thinned. Cloud suspected he knew what the man was thinking. Why would Avalanche pledge their loyalty to Shinra? Especially not now, when they had so much to lose. Erin was offering them an olive branch, a chance at freedom.

Cloud didn't believe her words for a second.

"You attacked us," he said. "Why would we help you?"

"Because I have something you want."

He saw Barret's fingers curl into a fist and he gripped his vest, forcing the man to pay attention. Calm down.

"And if we bring you Rufus?"

"You get her back."

Cloud glanced at Reno. There was absolute fury in his blue eyes.

"What about Elena?" Reno asked, not bothering to keep his presence hidden.

If Erin was surprised, she didn't show it.

"We have other plans for the Turk."

Reno's mouth snapped open, as though to argue. Tseng caught his arm.

"How do I know this isn't a trap?" Cloud asked.

"What other choice do you have?"

Cloud fell silent, unable to word his response.

"I'll give you time to talk it over," she said. "Oh… and Cloud? Don't keep me waiting too long."

The line went dead. Silence hung in the air. Barret smashed through it.

"Well, that's easy. We hand the bastard over."

"You really believe it's that simple?" said Tseng.

"Yeah, I do."

"Well then, you're a bigger fool than I thought."

Cloud knew exactly where this was headed. The bite in Tseng's voice told him so, and Barret was already squaring up, confrontation vibrating through his frame.

"We don't owe shit to Rufus Shinra," he grumbled. "We don't owe shit to none of you scumbags."

"You wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for Elena. You really think you owe us nothing?"

Barret floundered. Cloud saw it, the moment of doubt. Barret might still have been spouting the same old anti-Shinra spiel, but times were changing. He could blow hot air as much as he wanted; the Turks were a part of their lives now whether or not any of them liked it.

"Yeah, well…" He stumbled and changed his approach. "Rufus still has a debt to pay. He can damn well start repaying it now."

"Rufus has done more than enough to settle his debts."

"What the hell are you suggesting then?"

"We find another way," said Tseng.

"I'm not putting Tifa's life at risk!"

"Look around you," Tseng snapped. "All of your lives are at risk. What difference does it make?"

"Yeah? And whose goddamn fault is that?"

Cloud didn't stop them from arguing. He needed time to think. Erin was trying to appeal to their mutual interests, and it seemed wise to spin that further, to keep up the facade. Her intention was to force a wedge between them one by one until they were weak enough for her to pick them off.

Her attempts at derailing his family were certainly felt. Every attack created another crack, every altercation another chip struck out from their rapidly weakening foundation. It wasn't just Avalanche she was toying with. The Turks were spiralling out of control almost as fast as they were, each new obstacle causing more friction. As a unit, they were lethal. Individually, they were far more human.

They'd tear themselves apart before she even got her hands dirty.

Cloud's eyes landed on Reno. He so far avoided joining in the argument. He reached for the frame on the bar and flipped it over, darkness in his expression as he took in the photograph. His fingers trailed the broken glass.

"Did you know?" Reno asked quietly, turning his attention to Tseng.

"I… suspected," Tseng answered eventually. "Her genetics aren't important."

"He kept this from us... He knew we were trying to find her. He gave us the fucking order!"

"That may be the case but-"

"He's playing us."

Reno's voice was bitter, and Cloud could only watch as the cracks continued to appear. They were playing directly into her hands.

"I say we do it," said Reno. "Hand him over."

"Damn straight," said Barret.

Tseng's expression darkened.

"This could be our only chance of getting Elena back," Reno continued. "We arrange the drop. Follow them back to their base. That's where she'll be, right? If she's still..."

"You'd risk the President?"

"You know Rufus… he loves to get his hands dirty." The words sounded off, Reno's voice lacking its usual drawl. "Let him."

"Do you realise what you're saying?"

"People we care about are in danger. Are you really gonna risk them? Or isn't she important enough?"

"You've gone soft," Tseng spat, spots of colour rising in his face. "It happened to Veld. Look where that got him."

Cloud reached for his PHS.

"So what if I have?" replied Reno. "Why's that such a fucking problem? You saw what they did to her, Tseng. We wait around, we lose her. You lose her. It's that fucking simple."

"Elena can look after herself."

Cloud heard that before, only this time the words had a lot less conviction behind them. Tseng was fighting against something, and Cloud suspected he knew what. Fear could be dangerous if you didn't channel it properly. It was far easier to pretend, to keep the mask in place and not allow anybody to see beneath it.

"That's not the fucking point and you know it isn't. I should've kept her safe." The volume of Reno's voice slanted sharply upwards, the feeling behind his words filling every syllable. "I let her leave, and now they have her. How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?"

He wasn't talking about Elena, Cloud realised. The emotion in Reno's outburst surprised him.

"Cloud?" Barret's voice was unusually quiet. "You think we should-"

"Betraying the President won't bring Tifa back," said Tseng. "You're more intelligent than this."

"Yes, it fucking will! You heard what she said!"

"She's lying."

"I'll take that risk."

"Control yourself. You're being irrational," said Tseng, his voice as cold as ice. "This is not up for discussion."

"Like hell it's not." Reno shoved him, spoiling for a fight. "I've had enough of this shit. How many times do we do this? Follow the same bullshit orders? And for what?"

"For what?" He sounded surprised. "For the company. For the President."

"Yeah? And where the fuck has that ever gotten us?"

"I've noted your feedback."

Tseng smoothed out his jacket and straightened his tie. The carefully controlled movements suggested his patience was hanging on by a thread. Even Cloud could see that. Reno didn't seem impressed by his response.

"Fuck!" He turned away. Took a step. Turned back on his heel, anger in his eyes. "She thinks you love her."

Tseng's fist connected solidly with his jaw.

He sprawled backwards, landing heavily on the floor, his expression momentarily slipping into one of surprise. Cloud saw it just before fury crashed back over his face. He leapt to his feet with all the dexterity Cloud remembered, his stance shifting quickly to something more offensive, his mag-rod raised.

"The hell do you two idiots think you're playing at?" Barret launched himself between the two Turks, as Reno's weapon crackled in the air.

Reno was a capable fighter, but Tseng's eyes burned. He'd rip Reno to pieces if he followed through on the attack he was intending, and Reno wouldn't go down without a fight either.

Cloud knew he should step in. Do something. He could taste ozone in the back of his throat, and his fingers tightened on the PHS in his hand. The Turks wouldn't like it, but there were bigger things at stake.

"You drop that goddamn matchstick before I make you!" Barret warned, arms outstretched in warning.

"Fucking try it," Reno snarled.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Cloud selected Tifa's contact and hit the call button. It only rang twice before it connected.

"Cloud," Erin purred. "I didn't expect to hear from you so soon."

"I'll do it."

"You don't need more time to think it over?"

"You're right," he said. "Shinra won't ever stop. We should put them down."

Reno paused, slowly lowering his weapon. "Wait… What?"

"Quiet," Tseng hissed.

"I'm glad we agree."

"Where's the drop?" Cloud asked.

"There's a park in the Sector Six slums-"

"I know it," said Cloud, aware that the chaos in the background was no longer an issue.

Three pairs of eyes fixated on him. He turned his back.

"How long do you need?"

He gave this some consideration, although it was more for show than anything else. Erin seemed to have conveniently forgotten the men she sent to shoot up the bar.

"Two hours," he replied, after a significant pause.

"Are you sure?" There was concern in her voice. "He's well guarded."

Although he couldn't hear Erin's side of the conversation, Tseng evidently heard enough to distract him from his subordinate. He stepped around the bar and back into Cloud's line of sight. The look he gave him was anything but friendly.

"I'm sure," said Cloud, staring him down. "I'll take care of the Turks. Getting hold of Rufus will be easy."

Tseng's eyebrows quirked. What are you doing?

"Two hours then."

"I want you to help Tifa." He struggled to keep his voice level. "Whatever it takes."

"Of course… And Cloud?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for understanding. Not everybody can see the bigger picture."

He cut the call, slipping his PHS back into his pocket.

"You'll take care of the Turks?" said Reno, echoing his words in a tone that suggested his anger at Tseng found a new target. "The fuck do you think you're playing at?"

"Explain," said Tseng.

"Sit down." Cloud pointed at the empty stools at the bar, sliding onto one himself. "Hear me out."

To his surprise, neither man argued, although their eyes were wary when they took the seats beside him. Barret did the same, and Cloud saw a bitter reminder of the past in his desperate expression. He thought Cloud knew the answers.

Cloud wished that were true. His mind turned to Tifa, writhing on the ground. He inhaled slowly, collecting his thoughts.

"She's trying to drive us apart," he said eventually. "Everything she's done so far… she's trying to weaken us. I don't think she has the resources to take us on if we work together."

Tseng tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"What're you saying?" asked Barret.

"We let her think she's succeeded. If she thinks she's got Avalanche on her side…"

"That's a big 'if'," said Reno, voice sullen, picking at a chip in the varnish.

"It's all we have."

"You honestly believe she'll give you Tifa?"

Tseng's tone slipped back into its previous metre, as cool and professional as ever. If it wasn't for the angry mark on Reno's jaw, Cloud might've believed his show of calm.

"No," he admitted. "But if she has to meet us, we're thinning out her resources. It gives us a better chance."

"Better chance when?" asked Barret.

"When we hit her base."

"We don't know where her base is," Reno reminded him.

"No… But we'll find out."

Maybe it could work both ways. Erin was trying to appeal to their hatred of Shinra. Perhaps her men were cut from the same cloth. If they thought he was on their side, and that helping him would bring Shinra down…

"So let me get this straight… you're double-crossing her… because you know she's gonna double-cross us?"

Cloud considered this. "Guess so."

Reno shrugged. "Alright then. Let's make this shitbird sing."

"I'll talk to him," said Cloud. "You stay here."

Reno looked to Tseng for confirmation, their argument momentarily forgotten. He shook his head imperceptibly. Cloud walked away. He didn't need their permission.

The steps down to the basement were worn and uneven. Cloud's feet caught the familiar dips and scuffs on the concrete. The room was small and hardly fit to keep a bar like Seventh Heaven stocked, so Tifa used a small office upstairs to store the less popular bottles, and kept the crates of beer and local moonshine in the squat room below the bar.

She joked that the basement was for the cheap liquor, just like the slums. He wondered how she'd feel about it being used as a makeshift cell.

The man watched Cloud warily, suspicious at his return. Blood already soaked through the bandage around his shin, and his skin was paler now, and slick with sweat. Hatred clouded his eyes, and a sneer cut across his expression. Cloud stood, leaning back against a shelving unit stacked high with crates, and folded his arms across his chest.

The man cleared his throat and spat on the floor.

The urge to lash out came from nowhere, coursing through every joint, tripping across every nerve. It shocked him. Cloud shifted his weight between his feet and forced a lid on it.

"I could help you," he said, the words falling flat, lacking any inspiration. "Get you out of here."

They had his friend. Hurt her. She needed him.

"I don't need your help," said the man.

Cloud's mouth thinned. "Looks like you do."

He shrugged, pulling against the ropes that bound his wrists. "I didn't sign up for this shit."

"What did you sign up for?"

He glared, pressing his cracked lips together. A reply wasn't forthcoming.

"You hate Shinra?" The lie was easy to find. "They're no friends of mine."

"You're lying. I know a Turk when I see one."

Reno's words echoed in his head. Fifteen minutes. Was that really all it would take?

"They nearly killed us all. I don't owe them anything. I just want Tifa," he replied.

"Don't know nothing about her."

"Your people took her. She's dying."

Saying it out loud bought an unwelcome lump to his throat and heat behind his eyes. He blinked.

"She the one that's fucking the Turk?" He grinned. "Wouldn't mind a piece o' that."

Cloud lunged, fingers curling tightly into the man's shirt. He struggled against his restraints, but his expression didn't change.

"You won't hurt me," the man hissed. "You don't have it in you. I know who you are."

"You know nothing about me."

"I know if you were gonna kill me, you'd have done it already."

Reluctantly, Cloud released his grip. "That Turk you mentioned? He's upstairs."

Uncertainty flickered the man's eyes for a moment. "Can't tell you what I don't know."

"You're lying."

"Boss don't tell me everything. I just take my money and do what I'm told."

"What were you told?"

He grinned. "Come down here. Cause trouble."

"Why?"

"Don't give a shit why. Money's good. You think it's easy, rebuilding your whole goddamn life outta nothing? 'Cause that's what we have. That's what you people left us."

"Your friends are dead. Don't you care?"

He scoffed. "They weren't my friends."

Cloud struggled to reconcile the words against the turmoil in his head. He walked into the basement believing he could appeal to the man, just like Tifa would've. The indifference he faced galled him. Were their lives worth so little?

Time was ticking away. Fifteen minutes...

If she was in trouble, he'd be there. He'd save her. He promised.

"Tell me where she is."

"No point. The boss won't let her live. Not after everything you've done."

"Tell me."

"Bitch might as well be dead already." He laughed.

Cloud snapped.

His hands found the man's throat. His eyes bulged as he flailed uselessly against the ropes. It would be easy to tighten the pressure and choke out the life beneath his fingers. That part of him had always been there, beckoning in the darkness, a symptom of the parasite he'd born for so long. Blood thundered in his ears.

"Need a hand?"

Distracted, Cloud turned, fingers still crushing the man's windpipe. Reno stood in the doorway, hands jammed in his pockets, surveying the scene with triumph in his eyes. Tseng stood behind him.

His fingers loosened. The man spluttered and gasped, gulping down the air.

"Fifteen minutes?"

"Set your timer." Reno's smile turned feral.

The man's eyes locked onto Reno's, and any trace of his prior confidence fled his expression. Cloud stepped back and resumed his former position, leaning against the shelves. He couldn't leave. The darkness inside him wanted to watch the man suffer.

Reno turned to Tseng, awaiting his signal. Tseng nodded curtly.

He dragged a stack of wooden boxes into the centre of the room. Tseng tossed him a coil of rope and he caught it, looping it under and over, again and again. The man in the chair watched, his throat bobbing like an apple in a barrel, as Reno pulled the ends of the rope free. He pulled a switchblade from his jeans and the man visibly flinched.

Reno flipped the blade open, his smile morphing into something more dangerous, exposing the points of his teeth. He grasped the man's left hand, wrenching his index finger skyward with little care, ignoring the cry of pain. Oblivious to the man struggling, he examined the extended finger. Satisfied with what he found, he slit the rope binding the man's wrist.

"Left-handed." He laughed shortly. "What d'you know?"

Cloud rubbed at his right hand. There were callouses on his fingers, from the hilt of his weapon. He picked at them idly.

The man tried to lash out the second the ropes fell away. Reno caught his wrist easily and slammed it down on the crates. He forced the man's hand open, binding the ropes around his palm and fingers, pinning it flat. Then he pulled the ends of the rope tight and knotted them.

"What're you doing?" the man whimpered, struggling against the binds.

Reno punched him. His head snapped back, blood spraying from what Cloud could only presume was a broken nose. Tseng didn't issue a reprimand; he just stood in the doorway and watched.

Reno eyed his knuckles briefly. "We're asking the questions."

Tseng crossed the room, stooping to pick something up off the floor. It was the brick Tifa used to prop the door open between trips upstairs. Realisation hovered on the edge of Cloud's conscience. An eye for an eye...

"Where's Elena?" Tseng said, voice quiet.

"Who the fuck's Elena?"

He turned the brick over in his hands.

"I apologise… I'm making assumptions." The corner of his mouth twitched. "Where would they have taken her?"

"I don't know."

"Well then, where's your base?"

"I told you. I don't know."

"Where?" Tseng repeated.

"I don't fucking know!"

Reno clicked his tongue. He looked at Cloud. "Wrong answer…"

"You do know," Tseng said calmly. "You're just choosing not to tell us."

Tseng struck. The man howled.

Cloud swore he heard the wet crunch when the brick impacted against the man's fingers. His index twitched. He wouldn't be firing a gun again, Cloud realised, feeling sick.

"Let me ask you again."

"I don't know!"

He struck again. The man roared. Another finger twitched, its angle all wrong.

"I d-don't know!"

Again.

Cloud couldn't tear his eyes away. Tears were rolling freely down the man's face and there was blood pooling beneath his hand, soaking into the crates. He inhaled wetly, mewling like an infant.

"I-I swear… I don't know."

The brick slammed down again. This time Tseng didn't pull it away. He threw his weight behind it, grinding the bloody fingers beneath the brick. The scream that left the prisoner's mouth was guttural, animalistic.

Cloud knew he should step in. This wasn't working. The man wasn't lying. He didn't know.

"They use the old Shinra building," he shrieked. "That might be where she is. That's all I know I swear!"

"Huh…" Reno frowned. "Makes sense."

Cloud straightened up, relief flooding through him. The basement felt too small, the air too hot. Screams were rattling around his head, sending a shiver across his skin that made him nauseous.

Tseng still had his full weight on the brick. The prisoner's face was ashen, his eyes frantic.

"Please," he whimpered.

"Tseng. Stop." Cloud took a step toward him. "He told us what we need to know."

Reno glanced at his watch. "Eight and a half. Not bad."

"Tseng!"

"Sir, Cloud's right. Leave him be."

Tseng eased the pressure off, taking a step back. The hand beneath the ropes was a mangled mess. Twitching fingers, torn skin, gore… His expression curdled Cloud's blood, eyes shining as he studied the bloody brick in his hand. The corner of his mouth curled.

The smirk slipped from Reno's face. "Sir?"

Tseng swung the brick again.

The attack was frenzied, the violent movements set to a soundtrack Cloud would never forget. The repetitive wet thud of the brick, the groan of pain that rasped and sputtered. When the prisoner finally fell still, Tseng cast the makeshift weapon aside. It clattered across the floor.

He walked past them both, heading for the stairs. "I'll arrange back-up. We leave as soon as we're ready."

"Yes, sir."

Cloud stared at the corpse. A small part of him relished the sight. The head lolled, the skull misshapen and slick with gore, eyes rolling back and fixed permanently open. Cloud could taste the copper tang in the air, a steady drip onto the cement floor.

Tifa wouldn't want this.

Tseng stopped at the top of the stairs and turned back, eyes narrowed and fixed on Reno. The mask was back in place.

"I won't lose her," he said, his voice far too calm. "I know my duty and so does she. Love is… difficult in our line of work."

"Don't I fucking know it," Reno muttered under his breath. He plastered a smirk over his wan expression and jogged up the stairs. "Hey, sir? No hard feelings. Right?"

Cloud watched them leave, wondering if he'd heard correctly. It wasn't worth further scrutiny. Not now.

Time was running out.