Chapter Forty-Seven: Familiar Words and Lies

A night had not gone by that sleep was not disturbed in some way. And it wasn't as though Cloud did not care that each night was filled with nightmares that were not his own, or filled with whimpers that he – for once – did not make, or even that he had never heard the man that he once perceived as being so level suddenly being capable of crying with such sorrow …

Nighttime was no longer a ritual of rest – it was consumed with attempts at calming a hysterical man. His own sleep went ignored for trying to get Ratcliff to sleep. His own comfort was disregarded – when he did manage to catch a few hours – when interrupted by Ratcliff awaking with fright, causing the bunk to jostle. One night he had reacted from a nightmare with such hysteria it had caused the entire barrack to awaken, and no one but Cloud made an effort to ease him. Cloud gave what he had in encouraging words, kind embraces and patience … hell, he had even sneaked out of the barracks to buy Ratcliff a candy bar from the vending machine … it just never seemed to work.

Cloud did care. He really did. But so many words in so many ways could only console for so long.

Even if he did know what to do to comfort the man at night, he had not the energy to continue after several straight weeks of this. He was past the point of trying; he was past the point of frustration. He was numb. And each night, as if like clockwork, when Ratcliff would startle awake, Cloud would open his eyes passively, as though being awakened on his own accord, and he would simply wait. It varied what Cloud would wait for, as some nights it was for another man in the barrack to mumble for Ratcliff to be quiet as he whimpered, some nights it was for Ratcliff to leave the bunk to pace about nervously, and some nights it was for his own sleep to claim him … if even for a moment.

But through all this, what stayed consistent was the exhaustion and feeling of utter helplessness. There was little hope for Cloud that all would be well when the sun would rise, as even during the day Ratcliff was detached. Verbal responses were lagged, emotive reactions – whether good or bad – were nonexistent, and his empty staring was so intense it could have burned a hole through time and space.

His eating habits even changed – declined was more accurate. During mealtimes, he would go through the usual motions of loading up his tray of his usual favorites, but once he sat at the table, the food would go ignored. It was frustrating, even if Cloud could relate to not having an appetite during certain times. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep and constant stress Ratcliff endured at night, but his strange behavior continued as the days trudged on.

The biweekly visits to the psychiatrist brought no consolation. Ratcliff didn't have to say a word to Cloud for Cloud to know that there was little effectiveness in seeing Dr. Bleier. He knew this well, as he felt most of his visits with Dr. Arolin were nothing but a waste of time, but Cloud was at least able to acknowledge his own personal progress as time went on, no matter how slim it seemed. But with Ratcliff, it was as though he were reverting to the nightmare that had caused everything with each session with that psychiatrist.

Worse and worse Ratcliff seemed to become, and Cloud couldn't help but to follow.

Their bodies were craving sleep. He wasn't sure how Ratcliff was exactly holding up physically – even though the man did seem more lethargic and thinner – but Cloud knew that his own health seemed dulled. Activities that he was once able to complete with ease now seemed arduous. He would get waves of weakness during stressful situations when normally adrenaline would fuel him. His appetite would come and go, he could barely pay attention to any instructions given to him by his superiors, he even noticed his vision wavering when that weakness took over. And his migraines … they were coming in full force, and the pills were taken in succession.

Cloud now lay in his bunk, already having given up on keeping track of the days and nights they both lost to the upheaval of sleep, and Ratcliff lay above him making a poor attempt at muffling his nightly anguish in his pillow. There was a small twinge of what Cloud assumed was either resentment or agitation, as he had finally drifted off, only to have been awoken by Ratcliff crying out Graves' name.

It surprised him at first, as he hadn't felt such irritation at the man in quite a number of days, after becoming numb to the nightly occurrence. It wasn't until tiny bits of his dream came back to him did he realize why he seemed to gain back a bit of that numbed emotion once again.

He had been dreaming about Zack.

Cloud's stomach twisted into a knot and all the muscles in his chest and throat became unbearably tight. He suddenly felt smothered not by Ratcliff's troubles, but by his own. For as long as he had been enduring all of this, he also had been enduring his own personal guilt.

He had estranged himself from Zack for nearly a month, dodging him at every opportunity, ignoring him and running away whenever the SOLDIER would try to contact him. He knew why Zack had been seeking him out so desperately … he could see it in the strain of the man's face for the brief moment that Cloud dared to make eye contact when they happened to cross paths.

Zack just wanted to be loved in return.

Yet, Cloud couldn't bring himself to. Not after his behavior, not after his self-doubt and insecurities; not after his dishonesty.

More lies. More … more lies. Lies were mounting on top of each other as Cloud tried to climb over, and he no longer could reach the summit of them to come back down. Why had he lied to Zack? He had actually enjoyed being fingered by Zack. He had actually enjoyed touching himself together with Zack. So why had he resorted to using that lie as his escape when cornered with Zack's questioning? Why had he put the blame on the poor man when he couldn't bring himself to tell him what was really the matter?

Graves being dead and Ratcliff acting strange with Shin-Ra's dirty red hands labeled all over his actions were the real reasons. And yet, Cloud had stooped so low as to dodge the truth and promote that his obvious distress had been all Zack's doing.

He had even lied about taking Graves' shoulder armor, for Shiva's sake.

Gods, I'm nothing but scum.

And now he had no one. He had dug himself such a hole that he might as well have stayed there and rotted. He didn't deserve to be pulled out of his hole by Zack. He didn't deserve Zack's love.

The usual ambience during the night inside the barracks was playing, sleepy noises and ambiguous shapes moving subtly in the darkness. It seemed whenever Cloud couldn't sleep was when the rest of the barrack was most peaceful, and at times like these he had wished he could take opportunity of such serenity. Instead, he was focusing too much on the familiar mantra of Graves' name that Ratcliff was muttering as he slept to even consider sleeping.

There was something different about it tonight … he was muttering something else … something new.

He was mumbling Cloud's name as well now.

Cloud sat up in his bunk, unsure if Ratcliff was awake or dreaming. Perhaps the man was calling out to him in a faint state of consciousness; perhaps he needed something, like water or just a familiar touch of comfort.

"Yeah?" Cloud whispered, leaning over the side of the bunk to peer up at the man's form in the darkness. His name had been muttered a bit more forcefully now.

"It'll be okay …" was his answer.

"What?" Cloud held his breath when he was unsure if that was what he had really heard or not. He attempted to at least eliminate one less sound from his surroundings to hear better.

"We'll get you out."

Ratcliff must have been dreaming, but Cloud still slipped out of bed and stepped up the ladder. He could see in the darkness that Ratcliff was in a fetal position, his arms wrapped around himself, blankets strewn about.

"He won't hurt you again, Cloud."

Cloud's blood began to run fast and cold, and even though Ratcliff was only dreaming; even though Cloud was safe in the barrack … even though Mejia was dead, a heavy force seemed to press upon him.

"I won't let him take you."

Cloud began to say Ratcliff's name, but no sound, not even a squeak, left his lips. It took him a moment to compose his voice before he finally got out the man's name and before he could make sense to grasp him and shake him awake.

"Wake up," Cloud whispered.

And just like every night in the past few weeks, Ratcliff started awake, thrashing momentarily before he sat up, drenched in sweat and confusion. He looked about with a wild sort of expression – almost savage … even feral.

"You okay?"

Ratcliff stared at him widely, his eyes flickering across Cloud's body which still clung to the ladder. "Are you!"

Cloud just stared at him incredulously.

"Y-you …" Ratcliff tossed what little blanket had been covering his body to the side and got to his knees, crawling to the edge of the bunk, inches from Cloud. His hands reached out and he began to pat Cloud's chest frantically. "Where are you bleeding!"

Cloud shrugged his hands off as best he could for being perched on the bunk ladder, but to no avail – Ratcliff's hands were back on his body and searching for something that wasn't there.

"I'm not bleeding!" Cloud whispered. "You were having another dream. I'm – stop it – I'm fine!"

Finally he was able to get the man from groping him needlessly, but Ratcliff still seemed disorientated. He was now looking around the darkness as though searching for something or someone.

"We'll get you … help … quickly," he murmured.

"I don't need help. You were dreaming!"

There was a moment's pause before Ratcliff began to touch his chest once more, just as aimlessly, if not a little more.

"I'm sorry … I'm so sorry!"

Cloud was unable to figure out if the man was aware of his surroundings now, or if he was still reacting to whatever he had been dreaming about. He reached up and grasped Ratcliff's hands in his, giving them a firm squeeze. "Don't. It's … okay," Cloud whispered, releasing the man's hands when they stopped in all movement and resistance.

He peered at Ratcliff for a while, watching as the man ran a hand through his hair and across his face. He muttered something angrily about the amount of sweat he was covered in, and that was when Cloud knew he was cognitive.

"All right now?"

"Yeah," Ratcliff said, his voice shaking. "Yeah."

"Can I ask you what you were dreaming about?"

"Nothing," Ratcliff said quickly.

"That wasn't 'nothing'."

Ratcliff's sudden glower seemed to be quite clear in the darkness, and even if it wasn't, his tone of voice spoke for it. "I don't remember, all right?"

Cloud found himself taken aback, but he nodded respectfully. "Okay. S-sorry I asked." He continued to stand on the bunk ladder, unwilling to move until Ratcliff lay back down.

"Shouldn't you be going back to sleep?" Ratcliff asked so curtly that he might as well have slapped Cloud in the face and knocked him off the ladder.

"S-sorry …"

Cloud slipped back down the ladder, swallowing loudly. He crawled back into his bunk, trying to fight back a lump that threatened to grow from shock. He lay there, replaying the last few minutes in his head until, deep within him, that irritation he had long forgotten began to resurface.

"Not like I get much sleep with you acting like this anyway," Cloud whispered harshly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Ratcliff was silent, as though he were trying to question what he had heard in disbelief.

"Go to sleep, Cloud."

Cloud rolled over onto his stomach and muffled a scoff into his pillow.

Neither slept. Neither had even tried. And both were quite aware that the other still lay awake, but no attempt was made to talk or console one another. If they weren't supposed to be sleeping under the blanket of the night and were face-to-face, it would have been a tension-filled, cold-shouldered, long moment where neither spoke in irritation.

And it continued even when the sun began to rise after the men in the barracks had long since been awake and readying for their day ahead. And the strange tension trickled between them as time passed, like rain through a weakened roof – unwanted, unstoppable, and if left ignored the damage it would cause would be insurmountable.

They were assigned patrol duty through several sectors after an early breakfast, which Ratcliff did not eat much once again. Cloud was thankful that they were ordered to patrol separately – each at a neighboring sector and passing by at a designated point – because interaction was robotic; they only spoke when needed.

Cloud didn't understand why Ratcliff was given not a single lift of duty. The man was obviously suffering from something, even if he was physically able, but the company continued to assign him their usual tasks. He may have been lethargic from lack of sleep and food, but he still functioned normally when given orders. In fact, around superiors or peers, he seemed perfectly fine. Flashing that smile – even if Cloud could tell it pained him – to even receiving passing marks on the rifle qualification he had to make up since he had been in the infirmary during the previous one – it all seemed normal behavior.

But … he wasn't. When not under the scrutiny of Haskin – who still watched them like a hawk – or under the attention of anyone else, Ratcliff's guise crumbled. He would be reduced to how his behavior was at night. A few times Cloud had found him alone in the locker area, or around a deserted hallway, and caught the man quaking and muttering to himself. Cloud had spent a few minutes simply observing and saw that Ratcliff would straighten up and collect himself as best he could if anyone neared. He would carry on conversations as though he were of right mind, but the moment Cloud approached … the moment Cloud showed a shred of worry, Ratcliff would break down.

Maybe it was because Cloud could sympathize. Or maybe it was because Ratcliff saw Cloud as someone who wouldn't judge him, as someone who wouldn't turn away. Maybe it was because they were the same.

And Cloud could understand entirely. As much as Cloud tried not to, Zack had been the one he would break to.

Afternoon came at its leisure, and Cloud was unsure if he should have been thankful that it came so slowly as he and Ratcliff had a scheduled lunch together. He was nervous about how it would play out, given the tension of the morning. But once they received the order to take a break, they met up and shared an awkward moment before Cloud muttered something about a sandwich shop that they passed on their patrol, and both headed towards it together without a single word. They both were quite shocked to hear each other speak when they gave their food orders, since they had been so quiet throughout the day; hearing each other speak was almost foreign.

They sat together at the same table – most likely out of habit or a bad attempt at normalcy – and Cloud was more shocked to see Ratcliff finally eating something, even if he only ate half of what he ordered. He mostly spent the time they sat there staring out the window at the passersby.

Cloud could hardly take it anymore. So many questions had been going through his head about everything that he could no longer ignore it – be damned the consequences and the awkwardness.

"You mentioned something a few weeks ago … in Kunsel's quarters."

Cloud's voice scared Ratcliff in his seat, and he jerked away from the window to turn his gaze onto the blond.

"Forget I said anything, yeah."

"I want to know what you were talking about. I think it has something to do with the dream you had this morning."

"I said forget I said anything," Ratcliff said harshly, grabbing a chip from his plate and tossing it back down again.

"Does it have something to do with Mejia?"

Ratcliff pushed his plate away in what looked like sudden disgust.

Cloud ran his teeth over his bottom lip before speaking carefully, respectfully. "You always said I could talk to you about anything … especially Mejia. So why can't it work the other way around?"

"Drop it, yeah."

"So it does have something to do with him. And me."

"Just eat your damn food," he said warningly.

"I've been patient, Ratcliff," Cloud began, most of that sentence coming out in a heave of a sigh, "and I'm trying to understand what you're going through. But you're making it hard."

"I never asked you to, yeah."

Cloud sat for a while, anger beginning to churn and quickly frothing to the surface. He leaned forward over his plate, talking as low and as calm as he could. "I don't know what the hell is going on, or what the hell goes on behind …" Cloud trailed off, unable to think of the name of Ratcliff's doctor suddenly. "… your doctor's doors, but with how you're acting, I don't think it's doing you any good."

Ratcliff suddenly had the expression that he was about to lose it – by either crying or shouting, or both.

A warm breeze blew across Cloud's back then as the door to the shop opened behind him, and he felt someone lingering, bringing the scent of gunpowder and cigarettes to his nose. He caught Ratcliff's eye darting back down to his sandwich and Cloud felt his heart lurch in his chest.

He could see in the reflection of a window behind Ratcliff that it was that redheaded Turk, and his gaze was turned on them. Maybe it was because they were both in uniform and obviously worked for the same company, but Cloud had a strong feeling that it was for other reasons.

The Turk stayed but a moment longer and sauntered up to the counter to place a food order, and said not one thing to either of them, nor did he give them any more glances. But Cloud knew he was still watching them, and Ratcliff seemed to know that as well, for he stiffly stood and tossed his food into the trashcan and then left.

"What division, yo?"

Cloud turned his head away from watching Ratcliff leave to the sight of the Turk having tossed himself in the now empty chair across from him. Cloud swallowed with great difficulty.

"S-Sir?"

"What division are ya in, yo? Logistics, supplies, infantry?"

"I-Infantry, sir."

The Turk reached forward and grabbed a chip from Cloud's plate and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing rather rudely. He hooked his foot around a chair nearby at another table and spun it around, then kicked both his legs up onto it in a show of complete ease, which Cloud found very unsettling.

"Hey … I know ya." The Turk nodded a few times to himself, peering at Cloud with narrowed eyes. "You're the one that I delivered that order to a few months back, yo."

"Order?" Cloud was now the one to narrow his eyes in thought, straining his memory that far back and through all that had happened.

"Yup." The Turk ate another one of his chips, glancing up at the counter to see if his food was ready. "The one that said ya'd be jail-bait if ya didn't go to your quack session, yo."

It took Cloud a few moments to decipher what this Turk was saying, but he eventually remembered the order he received stating that he would be thrown in the brig had he not showed up to his scheduled appointments with the psychologist.

"I-I remember, sir."

The Turk reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled-looking, familiar piece of paper. He waved it about nonchalantly. "Got another one."

His heart that had been lurching suddenly dropped to his stomach.

"Seems like all I am lately is a delivery boy, yo. Not what I signed up for."

Cloud watched as the Turk continued to wave it around in front of him. He reached up and started to take it reluctantly, his mind racing with reasons as to why he would be ordered to see the psychologist again. But the Turk pulled it away from Cloud's fingers with such grace and such timing that it seemed as though the Turk wasn't even aware that Cloud was grabbing for it.

"S'not for you though, it's for that dude who just left, yo," the Turk said with a sigh, setting it down on the table as one of the employees behind the counter alerted him that his order was ready. He stood up and walked away, leaving it there.

Cloud looked down at it, glancing back at the Turk who had his back turned and continued to have it turned as he flirted with the woman behind the counter for a few moments as he gathered his meal. Cloud wasted no time in reading it, even if it was upside down.

Familiar words. Very, very familiar words.

"Failure to follow through with this order will result in disciplinary action which includes, but not limited to: Trial through court-martial, honorable discharge and/or corrective custody."

They were forcing Ratcliff to go to the psychiatrist, how stupid could Cloud have been not to realize? The pills, the hypnosis, the decline to switch doctors – it was all an order, just like the order they gave Ratcliff to kill Graves. He was just following orders, even though it seemed to be torturing him.

It wasn't the first time that Cloud had heard of an instance where men were ordered to shoot those who were once comrades. Hell, there were even rumors flying around Shin-Ra about Genesis Rhapsodos not having been 'killed in action' like how the reports claimed, but actually deserting the company with some of the elite SOLDIERs chasing after. Reports of the man popping up all over the Planet only proved that lies and deceit was what Shin-Ra did best.

But why? What did this have to do with Graves' death? Was Shin-Ra trying to cover something up? Why had they been ordering Ratcliff's silence? It had only been a reconnaissance mission. Granted, it ended with Graves perhaps putting up enough of a fight to receive the order to shoot to kill, but would Shin-Ra really bother with trying to cover up something so trivial as a mere deserting and defying infantryman?

"Whoops, clumsy me."

Cloud snapped out of his musing to see that the redheaded Turk had taken a seat across from him again. The Turk made a playful whistling sound as he slid the order towards himself and deposited it back into his pocket.

"Not really meant for prying eyes, yo."

"You did that on purpose," Cloud said weakly.

"Did I, yo? That'd imply that I went against a direct order from my boss to deliver this in an 'efficient an' private manner'," he said with an air of mocking what were most likely his boss' words.

Cloud shut his mouth after a feeble apology, feeling his face heating up. He probably shouldn't have accused a Turk, whom he didn't even know, of disobeying orders for the sake of someone such as himself. He had no worth to this person. But Cloud had a hard time believing that a Turk would be so blatantly incompetent.

The Turk scoffed. "Don't be so damn wimpy, yo. If ya bothered to say it like ya meant it, I might've admitted to somethin'."

After a moment, Cloud sat up a little straighter and forced himself to look into the Turk's eyes. "Why did you show this to me?" he said with a little more force.

"That's more like it, yo," the Turk said, leaning back in his chair and looking somewhat amused. "See, I didn't come here to show ya this, yo. Think of it as a bonus. My polite way of saying 'keep your damn nose where it should be' before my boss does, yo."

Cloud sat, baffled, his mouth agape.

"Don't go askin' questions that'll never be answered."

"D-Do you mean … Ratcliff?" Cloud looked out the window, as though Ratcliff were standing right there, but he had been long gone.

The Turk looked in the direction that Cloud did, stuffing a few chips into his mouth with a hum. "That his name, yo? Yup, that guy." He turned back to Cloud, an eyebrow cocked in a definite display of sizing Cloud up for whatever reason. "Jus' accept it for what it is. He ain't allowed to talk 'bout shit, so don't ask."

"I understand –"

"No one. Don't ask no one nothin', yo. Not even Zack."

Zack …

Cloud's heart had surprisingly climbed up from his stomach and seated itself back where it should have been at the mention of the man's name.

"Is … that an order?"

The Turk laughed a single, sarcastic laugh. "Ya catch on quick, yo."

"Then, sir, why are you here?"

"Gettin' lunch, what's it look like, yo?"

The door behind him opened once more, sending in another blast of fresh air from outside. This time it carried with it a simple scent of perfume.

The redheaded Turk grinned widely at whomever was now standing behind Cloud, then waved lazily. "Yo."

"Honestly, Reno, can you not get Tseng's lunch without dicking around?" a woman said.

Cloud turned in his seat to see a familiar female Turk standing with her arms crossed over her chest, but he couldn't remember where exactly he had seen her before. Her eyes were cast no where near him, but were locked onto her subordinate's with an icy stare. And even though her gaze was no where near Cloud's, he felt as though she were still looking at him.

"Hey! I got it just fine. But look what I found, yo." Reno motioned to Cloud, and Cloud gave the Turk a respectful nod and what he hoped looked like a smile, and not a grimace.

"Well, Reno," she said, smiling mildly at Cloud, "you managed to kill two birds with one stone. I guess that amounts to something."

"Nah, I haven't talked to 'im yet 'bout that."

Cloud turned back around in his seat, a wave of dread washing over him. "Talk to me? About what?"

The female Turk walked over to where Reno had his feet resting on the chair and shoved them off. He grunted his dismay but allowed her to take a seat.

"And here I thought you were doing what we set out to do. You were dicking around, after all."

"Cut me some slack, Cissnei, I ain't good at this stuff, yo. Not my fault ya were too busy gawking at that dress in the shop back there and didn't get here in time."

Cissnei's face turned a bit red, but that could have been the bright afternoon sun hitting her and illuminating her auburn hair, but Cloud couldn't exactly tell. Her expression remained stoic.

"What's going on?" Cloud asked, glancing between the two. A feeling of foreboding had never been so strong.

"We … wanted to talk to you about … Zack," she said slowly, a small twinge of a smile hitting her lips.

"What about him?" Cloud said quickly, defensively.

She paused long enough to give Reno a glance, and he just shrugged. It was though they weren't exactly sure how to tell Cloud whatever it was that they were there for. Which made him all the more frightened, and it started to show on his face.

"He's not physically hurt or anythin', if that's what you're thinkin', yo. So don't go freakin' out."

"That's his nice way of saying 'relax', Strife," Cissnei said kindly.

Cloud couldn't help but not believe them, and couldn't help but feel that this was a game of 'Good Cop, Bad Cop'. He continued to glance between them, his eyes wide.

"He's been really down," she said. "For a while now."

"Yeah, the fool can't do his damn work properly since ya've up an' left 'im, yo."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Cloud said, breathlessly. He started to squirm in his seat and they noticed, but he could have cared less.

"Tseng's been gettin' real pissy lately, ya know," Reno said, stealing another one of Cloud's chips that went ignored. "We've been havin' to pick up his slack 'cuz of it, yo."

"He's been really distracted since you've stopped talking to him. Will you just give him some time?"

"Yeah, kiss an' make up already!"

"How did you guys know we were …?" Cloud murmured.

Cissnei finally broke a smile, even if it was slightly sarcastic. "Seeing you under-dressed with messy hair in Zack's apartment was enough to know. I mean, come on, he made you eggs of all things."

"Yup, ya always make eggs for the morning after, yo."

The two Turks shared a laugh together, but Cloud stayed silent, trying to remember what she was talking about. He knew she had looked very familiar, but he had been trying to think through their short conversation as to who she was and where he had seen her last, but he couldn't do it. Now she was saying that she actually had seen him in Zack's apartment before … under-dressed? He started to develop a headache from thinking about it.

Their laughter died down when they realized that Cloud hadn't joined in and was instead rubbing his head in his hands.

"So, will you talk to him? If you're thinking that he sent us to convince you, you're wrong. We're here without him knowing," Cissnei said, more gently now. "He does seem really distraught, and we haven't seen you two together lately, so we kinda put two and two together …"

Cloud let out an inaudible groan as he pulled his hands away from his face, but still kept his head aimed low. He didn't want to look at them; he didn't want them to see that he too was upset.

Cissnei sighed a little. "You … care about him, right?"

Of course I do …

"I-I … don't know. H-He's nice to me and all … I just …"

Another damn lie …

Reno slapped his hand down on the tabletop, an exasperated look on his face. "Man, I can't see what Zack sees in ya!"

"Reno! That's rude!" Cissnei cried in utter shock. She immediately, and almost ashamedly, smacked his shoulder and gave Cloud a quick glance.

"Well, lookit 'im!" Reno said, rubbing his shoulder. "He can't even hold his head up high when talkin' 'bout his boyfriend! S'like he's ashamed or somethin'!"

I'm not …

"That doesn't give you the right to say something like that!"

My … head hurts.

"Well he ain't sayin' shit, so someone's gotta –"

Cloud stood up quickly and awkwardly, knocking his chair back. "E-excuse me."

"Where ya goin'? We need an answer, yo! Are ya gonna get back with Zack, or what? I can't take it anymore, yo. He's like a damn lovesick puppy."

Cissnei stood with Cloud in haste. "No, please. Don't listen to Reno. He's an idiot. We're just concerned –"

"Since when are Turks concerned about someone like me?" Cloud said curtly, his hand on the door. "I don't expect you to stick your neck out for me."

When Cloud opened the door, the warm breeze brought only silence with it, and it drifted over all of them for a long moment. The only thing that stopped him from leaving was something Reno muttered softly.

"If ya only knew, yo."

"We're concerned," Cissnei began, taking a tentative step towards him, "because it's affecting the company. And if Tseng catches wind that Zack's performance is slipping because of an employee relationship …"

Cloud didn't need her to finish that sentence to understand. He looked down at his feet, her words sinking in like fangs through weakened flesh. They had a company to protect; they had jobs to get done and they didn't give a damn about his relationship, or even his mentality. It was all to keep things running smoothly so the monsters hidden behind the scenes didn't break free.

He realized that he no longer wondered if something more could have happened to Ratcliff in Nibelheim than he let on.

"Just … talk to him," Cissnei said.

"Fine, I will," Cloud said flatly, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if that was yet another lie.

… To be continued in Chapter Forty-Eight: Deserving of Pity.

Ending Author's Usual Babble: Short chapter is short. D: Sorry about that, everyone. Things just need to happen in certain chapters, you know? Didn't want things spilling over awkwardly.

Also LOL at: "Don't ask no one nothin', yo." Would that be like a triple negative? XD Hurray for Reno talk!

And silly Cloud, if he only knew that Reno had already stuck his neck out for him by helping Zack learn what really happened back in Kalm. Shin-Ra isn't full of all jerks. Just most.

So. Um. Writing has been sloooow. I know, I say this like every time lately it seems, but it really has been. I know by now that you all understand and the true readers will stick around, right? Right. So gonna wait until Tuesday, March 29th. I have five days off this week for my birthday, so hopefully I'll be able to crack out a good chunk … if I can get over this flu that I have. Le sigh.

Thank you all who read, fave and review. C: I need to start responding again to reviews. I've admittedly been rather bad on that as of late. But thank you, and I do read and enjoy them all. And this time I will respond! *pose* Promise!