Chapter 32 - Damaged Goods

October, 1985

The fluids drip rhythmically from the bag and into Sephiroth's line.

He likes to watch it. The liquid hangs on the tip of the bag. It fights gravity before dropping into the tube snaking into his hand. Every one of those drips mark one more step towards feeling like himself again. Or at least he likes to imagine it is true. Regardless, it is something that he can concentrate on. When he tries to think too much, he has to close his eyes and sleep. His mind still doesn't work that well.

His head rolls out of habit on the pillow. He takes a deep breath feeling the ache in him and stares at the posters on the walls on the other side.

R&D have converted a mako recovery room for him. The posters illustrate a SOLDIER giving a thumbs up and explaining how the next few weeks are going to feel like absolute hell. It had taken him days to read all the small print. He wonders if he went through that when Wutai stuffed him full of mako. It makes him shiver and he shies away from thinking further. Sometimes he focuses on all the dead machinery around him. There was a point that he was on all of them. He can't remember it. Mariella assures him that they had done everything possible to keep him alive. He was unconscious when they made it to the lobby.

The chair is empty next to him. Sephiroth can mentally place her in the empty room. She's stayed by his side. He's never seen her so focused as she pours over his results and labs. A curl of anxiety in his stomach tells him that his illness is a puzzle that they will never unpack. He's going to die here in the heart of Shinra. This is the end of the line for him.

The only reason that she is gone now is a meeting. The quiet doesn't bother him. He's been dozing for days. Haze covers everything.

Part of him does hallucinate on occasion. A shadowy woman hovers in the corner of the room when he feels especially sick. Her wings stretch above her and bend at the top of the ceiling until they are brokenly hanging above him. Her mouth opens in a scream he can't hear and tears run down her face. He doesn't bother further with her. She's just another nightmare.

Today he has a little strength back. He has been awake more than he has been asleep. The lines intertwining into his arm and the wires taped to his chest are doing something. The monitor chatters to itself, recording every breath he takes. It's funny. He balls up and releases his hand. His life has come down to a series of numbers on a chart. A white line discusses his heartbeat. Other numbers click up and down. His BPM is lower than usual. His mind is dull so not even that bothers him.

Everything beside the present has been boxed away. He can't think far in the future or the past. He can't think about the journal. It hurts too much even though the damage has been done. The sickness, this weakness, "the attack" as Mariella called it, it is all his fault. He knows he shouldn't have looked. His stomach drops. His brain squeezes. Another shiver comes through him. He releases all those thoughts into the darkness of his mind. Hopefully they will disappear there.

There is no point now.

Whatever he had before is gone.

It had hurt him.

He should forget it before it hurts him more.

Now he knows the reason that Mariella hadn't told him anything.

What matters is that he is in a hospital bed waiting to get better. His hand releases and quietness settles over him. The room is soundproof. All the recovering SOLDIERs that have slept here had the comfort of this silence. Part of him, he notes, thinks that is a gift.

An assistant comes in and changes out his IV bag. He asks if Sephiroth needs anything and he shakes his head in response. The scientist shrugs and disappears.

Things drift unhinged as his mind idles through the drugs. Time loses itself again.

Then the door opens and a sick grin walks through.

The man hangs inside at the other end of the room. The door closes carefully. The lock clicks shut. A smile cuts across his face. Teeth white and sharp in the artificial light.

"Oh my broken little project," that mouth croons.

Sephiroth jerks and struggles to sit up. He makes it halfway up before his body quivers and he has to lay back down. The scientist is thin as he walks to him. The white coat hangs to his knees and his shoes are soundless on the floor.

"Do I know you?" Sephiroth asks. The words are hard but he makes them come out anyways. He's barely talked the last few days and the pipe that was down his throat bruised him when it came back up.

The grin oozes further open. "You don't know me? But I know you so well."

His fingers move as he gestures. Silver scars catch the light.

Sephiroth struggles with the sheets. Maybe he could edge away from him and get to the door. The cloth tangles around his feet. He can't summon the strength to figure it out.

"I wouldn't bother. Not in your condition." The dark eyes behind the glasses tick to the displays and the IV bag. Sephiroth swallows air as his shoulders stiffen and his stomach kicks in. The man settles on the corner of his bed without a word. Chemicals and cleaner rolls off of him.

The thin fingers come forward and envelope his own retreating ones in a fake shake. "Professor Hojo, my friend, so nice to see you while you are awake."

The hand is freezing and clamps on so hard so he can't pull away. Sephiroth only shakes it so he will let go. Instead, Professor Hojo brings his hand and settles it on his thigh. Sephiroth tries to slip away but the grip is too strong. The fingers worm between his own, locking them even together in a sweaty grip. Professor Hojo's eyes shine behind the glasses. Sephiroth wants to leave. He wants to be out of this small room. Instead, he scoots himself backwards so he can sit up against his pillow.

"We have a lot of history, you and me," Professor Hojo says softly and squeezes his hand. "I forgive you for not remembering me. It has been a trying time."

"What…" Sephiroth isn't even sure what he is asking and the sentence dies on his tongue. Any question feels dangerous. This man is calm but anything could tip the balance. An erratic air surrounds him like a gas waiting to explode.

"I am Mariella's boss, you knew this, yes?"

"Yes." Sephiroth recognizes the name but he's always been a ghost in the department. R&D employees act like he is everywhere and nowhere at once. Professor Hojo's name causes stress to crackle across Mariella's face like fractures.

Hojo looks down at their hands and his mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out. His thumb rolls over Sephiroth's knuckles. The connection sends shivers up his arm. The conversation collapses as the scientist disappears within himself. Sephiroth tries to pull away but either Professor Hojo ignores him or his body is not strong enough.

Things have been said about Professor Hojo behind closed doors. Things that he never wants to think about. Now the man sits on the edge of his bed and holds his hand like it is precious to him. The grin has turned into a smile. It is almost adoration on his face like his hand is something special.

Maybe something to chop off and put in a jar.

Sephiroth can barely breathe.

The room is quiet.

Professor Hojo swallows. "You are flourishing under training. Dinand is doing his job with your ectomorph tendencies."

He looks directly at his body and Sephiroth feels the urge to cover himself. The purple rashes on his chest are gone but he is shirtless. Nothing can hide the slow definition that had started to carve its way across his body. He's still got a long way to go to get to the levels that Orlin holds with ease but it is something.

He can see those eyes cataloging everything that they see and putting it away later for use.

"Are you here to see something about my sickness?" Sephiroth asks to get that gaze away from him. It works. The man snaps back to his face.

"You remind me so much of her sometimes. Even through the paperwork, I can see her tendencies in you."

Sephiroth's heart beats hard. "You knew my mother?"

"Intimately." The grip stays tight but the other hand comes up to hover over Sephiroth's face. The nails are cut close to the bed but the skin is laced with scars and burns. "I see her in you. I see how she's sewn herself into you."

Sephiroth closes his eyes and then turns his head away from the fingers. He feels a tug against his scalp and the scientist runs his hand through the few inches of hair on his head. Sephiroth strengthens himself against the shake inside him. His arms stay stiff by his side. Professor Hojo is the head of the department. He could pull the plug on Sephiroth. He could lock the door and starve him to death in this room and not even Mariella could stop him.

"Stunning," His voice is breathy near his ear. "Such a marvel. The convergence is a thing of beauty."

The grip loosens on his hand. Sephiroth takes the chance and slips his fingers away. They make it out and he tucks them under each other in his lap. It doesn't go unnoticed. He opens his eyes to see Professor Hojo staring at him. The look is with so much pressure that Sephiroth shrinks in on himself. This man wants it all. It plays out in his eyes. He wants everyone cataloged and preserved in his mind, alphabetized and frozen in briny liquid until he dissects them screaming.

Specifically, the grin tells him, he wants Sephiroth to give in to him.

He won't do it. He is scared. He feels backed into a corner and he can't look away. He looks away and he will give in. Professor Hojo can examine Sephiroth's body as much as he wants. The inside of him can stay closed, desperately trying to keep some part of himself a secret.

Professor Hojo sneers and with a twitch, his hands are forward again. Sephiroth's hand half rises. The scientist takes a firm grasp on his chin, forcing his face to the side and making him break eye contact.

"We've come so far since you. It's a pity that we hadn't figured out that soaking the body in mako instead of aerosolization is best. We might have saved that poor scrambled brain." The words are absent of empathy. The stretch in his neck is uncomfortable. He sees him roll up and down his profile. He's seeing her in him. Part of him dies to know more but that knowledge will cost him the rest of the strength that he has.

"You will make Shinra proud. You are the weapon to win the war," Hojo says finally and withdraws. It comes out as a command, not a statement. Sephiroth takes a long breath, allowing this one to fill and stretch the tension in his lungs.

Sephiroth hopes he will leave.

"Oh, Professor Hojo, I didn't know that you were here."

Mariella stands at the door, her head rising from a slight nod at the door. Sephiroth can't help the little smile that comes over his face. Professor Hojo turns and he feels relief as the attention slides off him. With a third person in the room, there is less of a chance of everything going anymore horribly wrong. He is going to survive this encounter.

"I was waiting for you," Professor Hojo says, "I felt like our news was important enough that I should be there when you delivered it. Just in case our little Sephiroth had any further, say more scientific, questions."

The wrinkles increase around her eyes. "Of course."

Sephiroth looks between them. "You know what is wrong?"

"We do." Mariella comes over but stands close to Sephiroth. Her body doesn't block Professor Hojo but it is close enough to bring a barrier between the two of them.

That only makes the sick smile on his face grow. "Your body is twisting on itself. Attacking uncontrollably everything that is keeping you alive."

Sephiroth can't understand what he is saying. What does that mean? The words make him lose grip on everything. He is sick. He's really sick. He looks up at Mariella.

She puts her hand on his shoulder. "It's an autoimmune reaction, your body doesn't know what to do with itself. Remember all the mako from when you were younger? It did more damage than we thought. It's…confusing things inside you."

"I'm hurting…myself?" He asks her.

"Mako is a strong disruptive force, quite literally a force of nature." Her face squeezes together in concentration and she forms her sentences carefully. "As you've grown older, the mako damage that you sustained earlier in your life is starting to show. It is causing an autoimmune reaction. You know how you press buttons on a computer, you are telling it to do something?"

Sephiroth nods but doesn't understand.

"Your body works the same way except when a button is pressed, it does the wrong thing. Some parts are overperforming. Others are underperforming. Like your blood pressure was extraordinarily high when we found you. That was why. Your body thought you needed it when you didn't. Everything causes further problems. That's why you've been so sick."

Hojo butts in. "It's incurable."

Mariella glares at him. "But you are going to live. Pharma has found a drug that can keep it in check. You are going to be okay."

Sephiroth feels awful. So much of his life has been going through the plans that were set out for him. All of the adult stuff has been kept at bay. He simply follows along. Now these words and these events are so big that he can't comprehend them. He's sick. He's really sick and it isn't going to go away.

"We've had you on medication for the last 24 hours and you've been responding well. Haven't you been feeling better?"

He nods.

She smiles. "It's going to be okay. We'll get you on a daily medication and everything will go back to normal, I promise."

Part of him desperately wants to believe that. If it had just been her in the room, he would have. Instead, the mattress dips under his feet and Professor Hojo has not stopped staring at him. The grin has not faltered at this news. If anything, it has spread, revealing pink gums. Hojo drinks in his reaction, seeming more alive than ever.

It's not okay, the smile says, I get to take care of you now.

And the fear in Sephiroth's heart believes it.

Thank you to everyone that took my week off so well. I really appreciate it so much...and how do I reward you? Creepy Hojo and a damaged Sephiroth.

Whoops.

Well. If it is any consolation, writing Hojo always makes me feel awful.

What do you all think? The last chapter make more sense?

Thank you for reading as always -Quin

Thanks to A for betaing this chapter. They are amazing. You can find their FFVII work on Twitter (AngealLovesYou).