Chapter Forty-Nine: Grin and Bear

The sun was starting its descent, but the rich, vibrant hues that it cast across the orange sky went ignored. The calming breeze took no effect; the laughter from the children went unheeded. Yet Cloud was somehow drawn to it. He staggered into the park, his senses finally coming to him slowly as he looked around.

He didn't remember how he got there.

But it was the park that he had spent an evening at with Zack. They had stared at the stars together, holding hands on the grass in the light of the streetlamps. It was a simple evening, but one that he had enjoyed. Recalling such a night now had just made him feel worse.

Small children were running around each other, weaving in between the play equipment that were sparsely placed on the lot. The equipment wasn't the best, but the children didn't seem to mind as they squealed and darted about, clambering over the slides and using the swings to pretend that they could fly like the Shin-Ra helicopters that occasionally passed overhead.

If Cloud's lip wasn't stinging with fresh pain, he probably would have smiled a little.

The park was quite full, and it was then Cloud realized that it was Sunday, and parents and children alike swarmed the city, making the most of the end of the very late afternoon and preparing for what seemed like a lovely evening that was sure to come.

Cloud's eyes trailed over the children running about, trying to find the spot that he and Zack had shared together. He knew it was a small patch of grass by a park bench – he remembered this because he had thought it was silly to sit on the grass while there was a perfectly empty bench to relax on. But Zack had chosen the grass and tugged him down playfully to join him, rolling on top of him as he landed to hold him down if he were to protest.

But Cloud didn't … he wouldn't. Not when Zack had looked so happy to be there with him …

He spotted the bench and began to walk to it in a daze, pushing the memory of what had just happened from his mind. He wanted a moment, even if it was filled with shrieking children, to collect himself.

To his surprise, the psychologist was sitting on that bench.

She said not a word as he approached slowly, but only watched him with curious interest. He stopped in front of her, blue eyes locking together.

She gestured for him to sit down.

And he sat next to her, catching a hint of citrus and baby powder – scents he had never smelled on her before. She always was so neutral while working at Shin-Ra.

He turned to look at her to say something, anything. Before he could, she placed a cloth to his bleeding lip, smiling at him gently. He stared at her for a brief moment before he broke down and cried.

"Tough day?" she said, her voice almost lyrical. Or maybe it just seemed that way after everything that had happened.

"R-Ratcliff," Cloud said through a few light sobs. She continued to dab at his bottom lip which was now very swollen. "He's not himself."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Cloud let out a shuddering breath, more blood dripping onto his chin, which was immediately dabbed at in a motherly manner. "Do you know what happened to him?" Cloud asked once she paused long enough to let him speak. "You must know something."

"I have some answers," she said warily but continued to hold that smile. "But not all the ones that you seek."

"I need to know what happened to him. He's just … getting worse."

She lowered the cloth, folding it a few times to bring up a fresh corner. But she turned away to watch the children play in the playground instead of tending to his lip. She didn't speak for a long time, and Cloud started to fear that he had offended her by insinuating that her colleague wasn't helping Ratcliff as he should have been. Yet, the calm expression on her face made Cloud feel as though he could be open with her for once.

"Something happened on his last mission," she finally said, her voice a bit distant. "Something that wasn't supposed to, but I don't know what it was. He must have found out something that he shouldn't have there."

"In … Nibelheim?"

"That's your hometown, is it not?"

Cloud was silent, shifting uncomfortably on the bench for the first time.

"Anything strange ever happen there?"

He was still silent, but now in thought. He knew of gruesome rumors that floated through the townspeople since he was a child – since before he was even born. He had heard of urban legends and folklore about the mansion or the monsters that lurked Mt. Nibel, but that was all they were – urban legends.

"I'm not paid to learn Shin-Ra's secrets," the psychologist said. "I'm paid to learn the secrets of those unfortunate people who find out about them. They then become my secrets and Shin-Ra doesn't pay me to keep them." She gave a single, dry laugh. "There's no such thing as confidentiality there."

"But why weren't you able to keep Ratcliff as a patient? He wouldn't be so bad right now if he were in your care."

The psychologist smiled a slow, amused smile – she almost looked flattered. But it disappeared rather quickly before she spoke next. "I removed myself as Mr. Ratcliff's doctor."

"But … why?"

"He used to be a past patient of mine when he was in need of guidance after a tragic mission he was assigned."

Cloud thought long and hard for a while. He vaguely recalled Graves mentioning a time when Ratcliff had been disturbed over a mission in which he was ordered to shoot-to-kill a deserter. He never did know the exact details, he just knew that Ratcliff had been affected by it more than either Elici or Graves. He wondered if it was nearly as bad as what he was going through now.

"Wouldn't that be more of a reason to take him as a patient again?"

"I care about my patients," she said, her eyes trailing along the playground until stopping at the sandbox where a towheaded child, maybe around three or four, sat alone, beginning to dig in the sand with a plastic shovel. "I see to it that they get the help that they need. And if that means to bend Shin-Ra's rules to do that, then so be it."

"I don't understand … that's your job. That's what Shin-Ra hired you for. You're supposed to help people. What else do they expect you to do?"

She turned her gaze back on Cloud with such a motherly look, and she chuckled. It was a patronizing chuckle, showing that his naïvety was amusing to her, and Cloud was quick to glower.

"You're so young, Cloud. Far too young."

"I'm young, but I'm not stupid."

"Indeed, you are not."

"So can you be more straight with me?"

She looked back towards the towheaded child with a defeated, yet soft sigh. The child was still alone and continuing to dig what looked like a hole in the sand.

"When you were attacked in Kalm, I was ordered to convince you to never tell Zack what had happened. You were not supposed to be released from my care until I drilled it into your head that telling Zack what happened would be a bad idea. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't lie to you like that for the sake of Shin-Ra's secrets."

"Like … brainwashing?"

She said nothing, but a grimace crossed her face.

"But … why? I'm nothing to this company."

"It's because of Zack."

Cloud stammered the man's name, then out of habit bit down on his bottom lip, causing the wound to reopen and bleed once more.

"He's a precious commodity in the eyes of the company – one that Shin-Ra would not like to see follow in the footsteps of his deserting predecessors. He is nothing more than an item to this company. You all are. And," she said, then sighed again, "just like all possessions, some are unfortunately coveted more than others."

He also began to silently cry again.

"I don't see you like that," she murmured with a tender smile. "Humanity is my precious commodity."

It was suddenly strange for Cloud to be sitting on the same seat as her. Being next to her was almost as though they were equals … just two people understanding one another without the analyzing and judging that came with her job, even if she was now dabbing at the tears on his face with that cloth.

"But … that's wherein lies the problem. Differing opinions is not something that Shin-Ra handles well. That's why we were at war with Wutai for so long. It's why both you and I work for the company. It's why I'm no longer trusted."

Cloud's eyes widened a bit, but he was unable to say anything, for she pressed the cloth to his lip again when more blood began to seep.

"You weren't supposed to cross paths with Mr. Ratcliff. That's why he was being kept in the infirmary at first." She began to talk faster and quieter, as though she were afraid she would be heard by someone who wasn't meant to hear. "Who knows when he would have been released, or what they were waiting to accomplish with him before they did," she said sourly. "But I wanted to help, that's why I set up that meeting between you two at the front desk of the office … so you would know he was at least alive. And that's why I altered Dr. Bleier's report to get Mr. Ratcliff released back to the barracks shortly after. I saw how he was suffering, and I care about him too much to see him go through that again."

Now Cloud's eyes were very wide and unblinking.

"I risked a lot," she said sadly. "Please believe me when I say that I wanted to do what I could to help him … the both of you … even if I was no longer his doctor. But I was being monitored heavily since the incident in Kalm. They probably figured I didn't follow through with those orders, and they were right."

Cloud thought of Tseng lurking about the hallways. He thought of seeing Reno throughout the weeks in the hallways as well, approaching him in the sandwich shop and how the Turk seemed to know exactly what was going on. Cloud wasn't surprised to be hearing this anymore.

"I know what I signed up for when I joined this company. I knew the risk. But … knowing the risk and facing it is entirely different. I have more than just my life to worry about. So that's why I dropped Mr. Ratcliff as my patient. I'll get too involved at this point."

"It's because of me," Cloud finally said, pulling away from the cloth that she continued to hold against him. "It's because I associate with Zack that Ratcliff now suffers and why you're scared to do your job."

She shook her head, her hand lowering to her lap, and she once more turned to watch the child in the sandbox. "No, it's because … well, sometimes those you least suspect to be weak in fact are. I'm sorry, Cloud. I'll help you as much as I can, but I can only go so far."

"You've done a lot already. Thank you." And he meant it.

The children in the playground continued to squeal and run about together – all but the lone towhead. He diligently kept digging at his hole, every so often glancing up to the other children having fun together, but never joining.

"I took psychology for selfish reasons when I was younger," she suddenly said in a nostalgic voice. "I thought that if I learned how to help others, that maybe I could help myself one day. That along the way, I could find the answers to my own questions." She looked to Cloud again with a quick, yet sad smile. "Mr. Ratcliff … he's a lot like me. He's constantly searching for answers. But what the problem is, is that we sometimes don't know what the question is that we're asking ourselves."

Cloud looked away from that motherly smile, looking down at his hands which were gripping his uniform trousers tightly. Ratcliff had always seemed so strong … as did this woman. How could she claim that they were both so weak? Could one really wear such a convincing mask?

"'Am I wrong?', 'Was I wrong?'," she said, her tone now speaking passionately and of personal experience. "'Will I be wrong again?'" She reached over when she noticed blood and tears dripping from Cloud's face again, wiping them away. "'Will I be forgiven?'"

Cloud lowered his head even more.

"He's the type to dwell on his imperfections," she continued. "To self-hate and sacrifice his happiness to his own insecurities. He doesn't give a chance to forgive himself and forget. He blames himself for everything bad that may happen to himself and to those he cares about."

"We're the same," Cloud murmured, surprised to hear himself confess something so freely.

"It's common to feel that way sometimes. You're not alone."

Cloud's eyes were drawn to the child then, who was now digging with such a fury that sand was flying out behind his body in continuous trails. It made Cloud wonder what the child was possibly thinking or pretending to be so fervid over this activity. He watched the child for quite some time until he felt the psychologist's eyes back on him.

He looked to her and she squared her shoulders, then raised her bosom.

"My son," she said, her voice suddenly taking on a very proud tone that Cloud had never heard her use before.

"I-I didn't know you had a family," he muttered.

"Well, when we're together, it's not supposed to be about me, is it?" she said lightheartedly.

Cloud only offered a vague shrug as a response. But a thought occurred to him when this new information finally sank in. "Your son … He's the reason why, isn't he?"

"Yes. Like I said, I have more than my life to worry about. There would be no one to take care of him if something were to happen to me."

"I'm sorry," Cloud said, finding it hard to swallow not only the lump that was still in his throat, but all the guilt he had about her from the past. "You really did risk a lot."

"Thank you for understanding," she said sincerely.

Cloud nodded and continued to watch the child for a while, the melodious giggles of the children filling the silence between them. It was sad to watch her son as he continued to play alone, occasionally glancing at the other children with a look of longing.

"How come … he's playing alone?" Cloud asked.

"Why does any child play alone?"

Cloud knew that look well.

"He's afraid to play with the others," he muttered after another bout of silence. "He's afraid of rejection … that they won't like him if they get to know him."

The psychologist nodded, sighing sadly. "He had a bad experience once. A bully," she said, her face growing cold in expression. "Unfortunately, it takes only one time with one bully to scar a person."

Cloud expected her to glance his way, but she didn't.

"Mr. Ratcliff," she slowly said. "… I do worry about him."

Cloud peeked at her through his hair, catching a pained look on her face now.

"I wouldn't tell just anyone something so confidential, Cloud, but I think it's important that you understand something about his past … if you want to understand him now."

He said nothing; he froze in a mixture of fear and anticipation … or from anticipating fear itself.

"He's had history of certain tendencies." She was silent for an unnerving amount of time before she spoke again, this time very clearly, as though finding no point in speaking cryptically any longer. "He has tried to take his own life."

"Suici –" He got stuck on his own voice and couldn't finish – he wouldn't finish.

"It's hard to believe," she said gently, "but he's very good at absorbing personal tragedy and holding it all in until it overflows. For some individuals, that's the only outlet they see."

Somehow, he was able to ask, despite that fear of her answer. "Did he ever ... t-try …?"

She looked at Cloud directly, but said nothing.

He could no longer look at her and felt a surge of hurtful anger rise up in him. It wasn't directed at her, and he would have liked to have thought that it wasn't towards Ratcliff either, but that – he wasn't so sure. And now confusion swirled with that anger, leaving him with a burning question somewhere in the jumbled mess of his thoughts.

"His friends," she continued, "Mr. Elici and Mr. Graves … they helped me watch over him while he was going through all that. They were my little birdies. And at times, they were the only method that seemed to help him."

He weighed this for a while and came to an impasse.

"But … what do I do?" he murmured, more to himself than to her.

"I had a hard time finding the answer to that very question when my husband took his own life a few years ago," she murmured, more to herself than to him.

He hung his head again, speechless and feeling thoughtless.

Her son slowed his digging as he began to look rather tired. But he had dug the hole fairly deep, for whatever reason a child would have to dig such a thing, yet he still looked unhappy over it.

"If you were in Ratcliff's shoes, what do you think you would need most?" she asked him, their gaze meeting slowly. With the children laughing around them, Cloud suddenly felt as though they were the only two people in the entire city that felt so out of place, and so very, very lost.

"I'd need …" He trailed off, watching as her eyes remained on his, imploring him to answer honestly, begging him to choose the right answer for the both of them … an answer that seemed so simple and weak to a question that was so staggering in comparison.

They paused as their attention turned to her son when another little boy broke off from a group that galloped by, laughing and squealing. He stopped, staring at the towhead through his own dark head of hair with genuine curiosity. Without much hesitation, he waddled over to her son, clambering over a mound of sand that surrounded him, slipping on a bit of it when he reached the top. He slid down with a giggle, nearly toppling over the towhead as he reached the bottom of the hole that had been dug. There were no words that were exchanged, only smiles – one bright, the other apprehensive.

Right then, Cloud thought of everyone that he had ever loved, and of everyone that had ever loved him. He thought of his mother, his father. He thought of Elici, he thought of Graves, and of Ratcliff …

The dark-haired boy thrust out his hand, silently asking for the shovel, which the towhead eventually relinquished with much distress on his face. Cloud and the psychologist watched in silence as the dark-haired boy sat with the towhead, and together they started to build a sandcastle in the center of that hole.

… and he thought of Zack.

"I'd need someone to be there for me," Cloud finally said.

"Simple enough, isn't it?" she said sweetly, if not a little sadly as she continued to watch the children.

"Yeah … I guess …"

But … was it really? It had been before with Elici and Graves. They had been enough … but with them gone, would Cloud be enough?

"Are you okay?"

Cloud suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, sending a massive shiver through his body that he didn't realize he had been holding in.

He also didn't realize he had been holding his head, hunched over his knees, the sight of the ground being masked with pain and whiteness in his vision. He began to slowly sit up, blinking the whiteness away.

"Yeah … I guess …" he muttered.

"You're not okay," she said harshly. Her hands were now on his face, and her cold skin seemed to burn against his cheeks.

"I am. Ratcliff … he just clocked me hard, that's all."

"That doesn't explain why I had been talking to you for five minutes without a response."

Five minutes …?

Cloud looked at the sandcastle that the children had only just started to build. It was significantly larger now.

"I just … haven't been sleeping all that well. Headaches … a lot," he mumbled. "Ratcliff said I probably have some sort of concussion syndrome."

The psychologist seemed to contemplate this for a moment, then slowly lowered her hands from his face. "That is possible. PCS would explain the headaches and the sleeping problems. I would say post-traumatic stress disorder and depression as well."

"Haven't … been sleeping," he mumbled again.

She gave him an odd look and searched his face. It made him uncomfortable when he made eye contact with her and he quickly looked away.

"You said that already," she said slowly.

"I-I know," he lied.

"Cloud, I highly suggest you go to the infirmary. And you really should come see me again. I was quick to release you from my care."

"No!"

She recoiled, shocked at his outburst.

Cloud calmed himself, rubbing his temples as he waited for the sudden strike of pain in his head to subside. "Please … no. After hearing all this … I just don't want to."

She stared at him for a while, any motherly look gone and replaced with sternness. "I understand. But it'll come down to you not having a choice soon if you keep neglecting your health."

"I'm fine, really."

She continued that stern expression, discrediting everything he thought or claimed with that single look.

"I'm not going," he said with finality.

"Very well," she said, defeated and looking none too pleased about it. She returned to staring at the children playing in the sandbox, every now and then smiling a little when her son giggled or let out an excited shriek – the first Cloud had heard from the child since he had arrived there.

Eventually she turned back to him, a look on her face suggesting that whatever she was about to say was something that she had wanted to say to him for a while. "Perhaps … both you and Mr. Ratcliff would do well by surrounding yourself with those who care. Even the support of a single friend can be enough to pull you up."

His eyes fixated on the two children, but he said nothing.

"How're things going with Mr. Fair?"

Cloud shrugged sadly.

"Everything okay?"

He now shook his head, careful not to shake it too hard in fear that the tears that brimmed in his eyes would spill over again.

"You know, Cloud," she said compassionately, her hand once more on his shoulder, that motherly smile back on her face and being the reason why his tears finally spilled. "Zack really loves you."

"I know," Cloud said, suddenly letting out a sob, finding himself unable to control it any longer.

The two children were clamoring with great excitement over the little details they were placing on their sandcastle now, their young voices traveling over to Cloud and the psychologist easily. They sat and listened to every word, every giggle and every momentary disagreement they would share until they began to laugh again.

Cloud wiped at his eyes quickly, then steadied his voice.

"... I know he does."

Cloud stayed until the sunset with the enchanting sound of the children at play was but a memory. He found that he was unable to move from that bench, even when everyone else had cleared out. The psychologist was kind to stay for as long as she could, encouraging her child to nap on her lap as she continued to talk with Cloud. Her son had put up a bit of a fuss, but after nibbling on a sliced orange – that scent of citrus he had caught on her earlier – he gladly curled up on the bench between them and fell asleep with his thumb in his mouth. Cloud didn't mind much when the child had stretched out and used his lap as an ottoman.

There were more questions burning in his mind than time would allow to ask. It seemed as though he would have to schedule an appointment with her just to have another chance to speak with her about everything, but he knew that that would be risking a lot for the both of them under Shin-Ra's watchful gaze. She seemed to understand this, and so she offered that this be the bench on which they could freely talk with each other, should he have a need to talk. She informed him that she visited that park every Sunday with her son, but it would be wise not to make a habit of it. Surely Shin-Ra would catch wind of any secret meeting they might have if the company was watching them both like how they both were suspecting.

So as the sun set and her son slept, Cloud decided to ask the two heaviest questions that had been on his mind. He had thought of many, but he knew that these would do for now; he was afraid that he had already asked too much.

He thought of asking her why her husband had killed himself, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Maybe she would share her story with him and maybe it would provide him with some sort of understanding of Ratcliff's behavior, but he feared that it would cross a very thin line, especially when her son was now awake and listening to their conversation with childlike curiosity.

He thought of asking her what exactly happened with the first mission when Ratcliff had been ordered to shoot-to-kill. Was it possibly linked to Graves? Or was it just a horrible coincidence? Could Cloud have been looking too much into this with heavy paranoia, and perhaps Ratcliff was only just relapsing from his old torment?

He even thought of asking her how she possibly knew that Zack loved him.

But what he chose to ask had been two easy questions, yet he knew that the answers would be difficult to accept.

"Why isn't Bleier doing anything to help Ratcliff?"

She had taken her time in responding, her hand ceasing in its movement on her child's head for a brief moment before it resumed again. Perhaps it was because the lack of people and activity around made her feel very exposed to those whom might be lurking, or maybe there just wasn't another way to put it, but as Cloud had surmised, her answer was vague, yet somehow pointed.

"Sometimes the ideal way to fix a problem is to have the problem fix itself."

Cloud suddenly found that his second question had been much easier to ask with that answer.

"Is hypnosis really a common practice?"

She had definitely taken her time to answer that question, and even had scooped up her child and her purse before speaking – again just as vaguely, yet meaningfully.

"Like any weapon, materia or possession, the power of suggestion could easily be used for good as it could for evil."

And she readjusted her hold on her son, bid Cloud goodnight and then left while glancing around at her surroundings with caution.

Cloud had looked around as well, peering into the shadows where the streetlamps couldn't reach. Now that he was alone and surrounded by silence, that paranoia began to set in.

The company was watching everyone he was in contact with; the company was watching him. And he could only imagine for how long they had been doing it, and even how much.

He was left with a feeling of complete loss and facing an even bigger impasse than before. How easy it would be to distance himself – more than he already was – from these people. How easy it would be to run away and ignore them … to sever any fraying tie with them and set them free from Shin-Ra's eye. The problem would have fixed itself.

And yet … it easily was just as naïve and downright childish. Stupid … so utterly, utterly stupid.

To think that Shin-Ra would toss in the towel because Cloud simply walked away … he should have been condemned for even considering that after everything he had learned. They would never relinquish their fight; there would always be some sort of monitoring since Shin-Ra never seemed to take any chances. It was all a laughable thought, and even through the burden he was feeling he heard himself scoff a single, dry sound that could have possibly been a laugh.

After a while, Cloud heard a soft, electronic beep nearby that caused him to start with fright. His heart was racing long after he realized that the sound had only been his own wristwatch changing over to the new hour. It was hard to comprehend how long he had been sitting there for, even with the watch. Time just seemed to both drag by and speed past.

It was going to be lights-out soon, and the more he idly sat, the less of a purpose he had there. Yet, he still couldn't bring himself to head back to the building; he didn't want to face Ratcliff … and especially Zack. He knew that both would be inevitable, however.

On his way back to Shin-Ra, he weighed new questions in his mind. If the company was watching him, did they now know that he was aware that they were doing so? The more he reflected, the more he realized how painfully obvious it had been at times. He recalled countless instances when he had seen the redheaded Turk in the hallways, but Cloud had always assumed he was on the lookout for potential SOLDIERs. Even Zack had seemed wary of the Turk, which Cloud had overlooked the warning signs at the time. He remembered how Zack would spot the Turk and grow cold, if even for a moment, and suddenly Zack would whisk Cloud down another hallway or rush inside the elevator as though avoiding someone.

Which meant that Zack somehow knew they were being watched for some purpose. That alone raised more questions in his mind than he could handle, and he had to force himself to stop dwelling on it due to the headache that began to throb once more.

He made it back to the building, a distinctive smell of sterility overwhelming the crisp, night air he had been breathing. It was such an empty smell, lack of any notes or flavors in the air throughout the lobby and offices. It was like a building devoid of personality … of life – all the more reminding Cloud of how heartless Shin-Ra seemed to him now. Only around the medical facilities, mess hall, and barracks did the air in the building hold any sort of character.

The elevator and hallways were beginning to thin of employee traffic, but became a bit heavier near the living quarters as the men who resided in the building at night made their way to their respective barrack. That sterile, neutral smell of the lobby was gone now, replaced with the cigarette smoke that often lingered around the outside of his barrack, but was significantly lessened now that Graves was gone and no longer used the area to smoke. It nearly made him sad to think about, but as he rounded the corner and his eyes trailed to the area where Mejia had defiled him – the area that Ratcliff had just struck him – nothing but resentment filled him.

And pacing about in front of that area was Ratcliff himself. It was obvious that he had been waiting for Cloud, for he looked up immediately and a face that was so pained began to relax, if only a little.

"Cloud!" Ratcliff cried, rushing forward to meet Cloud before he could dart into the barrack in avoidance. "I'm sorry about earlier, yeah?" He looked very distraught with eyes showing evidence of shamed tears.

Cloud was unable to say anything at first, as he was suddenly reminded of what he had learned about the man today and any lingering anger for him was quickly drained away. He studied Ratcliff's face, trying to see past that warm smile that Cloud always imagined him to wear whenever he was frowning like this, to the man truly beneath … but it was so very hard.

And even after studying him for that moment, he still couldn't think of what to say.

But Ratcliff continued to speak, closing the gap between them warily. "I just … worry about you, yeah. Y-you weren't listening to me. You need to listen to me, yeah?"

"I know," Cloud murmured, his voice coming out hoarse. "But I need those pills, Ratcliff. You even said yourself that I should take them." He caught a slight twitch in Ratcliff's face as he said that. "So can I have them back?"

"No. I threw them away."

Right then Cloud affirmed in his mind that he would stay calm, despite every instinct in his body telling him otherwise. The pills suddenly seemed the least of his concerns now in comparison.

"T-that's okay," Cloud said slowly, perhaps more to himself. "That's fine. I'm just glad to see that you're more calm now."

There was an awkward pause, one most likely spent reflecting on what had happened. A remorseful expression took over Ratcliff's face, and Cloud felt himself grimacing instead of smiling the encouraging smile he tried to form.

"Did I hurt you bad?" Ratcliff took a step forward, his hand suddenly reaching up and brushing across Cloud's swollen lip. "I just … I don't know what came over me, yeah."

Cloud's grimace grew and he tried to pull away from Ratcliff's hand. "I'm fine," he said, his voice becoming a bit more serious. "It's not bad. I don't think I need stitches like I did last time."

"Let me see," Ratcliff murmured, both his hands now on Cloud's face, holding him steady. Cloud allowed the man to look over his lip, his fingertips gently moving across them, perhaps trying to brush some of the dried blood away. They then moved to his cheek, pressing a little bit and causing Cloud to wince – he wasn't even aware that there was a bruise there from Ratcliff's strike.

"Here too," he murmured again as he pressed the bruise lightly, sorrow laced in his voice. "I'm so sorry, yeah?"

"S-stop, it's nothing to worry about," Cloud said, taking a step back as Ratcliff took another step into him. He was starting to feel anxious again the more those hands searched, and his eyes darted away from Ratcliff's when he saw them lock onto his mouth. "I had worse as a kid, so no worries."

"But it was never caused by someone who cared about you, yeah …"

Cloud quickly pulled away, but Ratcliff's hands were back on him; his body once more pressing against him.

"Hold still."

"P-Please, Ratcliff, can you back up just a bit?" Cloud asked weakly, his shoulders starting to pitch with each anxious breath. "I'm really not comfo–"

Ratcliff looked lost as he studied Cloud's lips, his eyes half-lidded and his own mouth parted. "It's worse than it seems," he whispered, seemingly unaware that Cloud was pinned against the wall and panicking.

Whether there was double meaning behind such a statement, Cloud was unsure. He was now sucking in frantic breaths in panic to be able to put any thought into it; he couldn't clear his head of his own haunted thoughts as Ratcliff drew nearer.

"So much worse."

"Hey!"

Both Cloud and Ratcliff froze at the voice, and slowly they turned their heads in tandem to a sight that made Ratcliff begin to tremble and Cloud nearly lose consciousness.

It was Zack.

The SOLDIER was standing in the center of the hallway, staring on – wide-eyed, furious.

"The hell is going on!"

Before either could attempt to explain, he had already reached them, teeth barred and muscles rigid. He grabbed Ratcliff by the muffler of his uniform and yanked him back, ripping him from Cloud.

"I had a feeling something happened between you two with how you both have been acting! I guess I should've expected something like this!" Zack shouted, shoving Ratcliff against the double doors of the barrack, causing them to shudder in their frames. "Your behavior lately said it all and I was blind to it!"

"Z-Zack," Cloud murmured, shaking so violently that his vision was wavering. This couldn't have been happening …

Ratcliff scrambled from the doors right as Zack thrust out his fist to grab him again. "N-No!" he cried, slipping on legs that were clearly trying to flee. "It's not like that–"

But Zack had turned away, rounding on Cloud now. His mako eyes flared with vivid anger, only flickering for a moment when he saw Cloud's injuries. "What happened to your face?"

Cloud couldn't answer. He only stood there and shook his head as tears streamed from his eyes.

"What happened to his face!" Zack shouted again, having turned back to Ratcliff and pointing directly at Cloud at the same time. "Did you do this to him!"

A look of pure fear was consuming Ratcliff's entire composure. Zack didn't need an answer.

"What the fuck were you trying to do to him!"

Cloud looked to Ratcliff in disbelief. Was that really what was about to happen …?

Ratcliff paled, sweat beading and rolling down his face. "N-nothing, Zack! It was nothing!"

"It was nothing?" Zack bellowed. "Sure as hell looked like it was gonna be something if I didn't show up!"

Cloud found himself trying to speak, but no words came out. He glanced between the two helplessly.

Now Ratcliff was silent and quaking. He swallowed hard, audibly.

When no explanation came and thinning patience disappeared, Zack hoisted Ratcliff close again. "Cloud's been through too much for shit like this!" His arms were visibly trembling from ire; Cloud had never seen him so livid. "We're supposed to be caring for him, not hurting him!"

Ratcliff squared his jaw, seeming to muster forth a hidden bravery from somewhere deep within him. "You don't seem to be helping him much," he said slowly, almost tauntingly. "Where have you been the last few weeks? Or do you only come around when you want it?"

"You don't know our business," Zack said lowly, so low that it took Cloud a moment to decipher what he had said; it sounded much like a growl.

"Trust me, I know that type of business well enough, yeah."

Zack pulled Ratcliff close, noses only an inch apart. "I suggest you stop talking."

"It was the same business as him," Ratcliff said, his voice soft yet surprisingly strong. "All SOLDIER are the same – taking advantage of someone when they know they're weak, yeah."

"The hell do you mean by that?" Zack said, pulling away a little, his face turning from anger to perplexity.

"Y-You're no different than Mejia."

Zack stopped cold. His hands released Ratcliff immediately.

"And," Ratcliff muttered, backing away and nearly tripping over himself. "I'm no different."

Zack stood eerily still as Ratcliff ran off down the hallway.

It wasn't long until the sound of Cloud's hysterical and gulping breaths caught Zack's attention. He turned, those infuriated eyes settling but still holding sharp. And they stayed that way, even when he saw how Cloud was shaking; how his eyes were wide open in horror over what had occurred.

"Baby," Zack said, his voice barely above a raspy murmur. "Let me see your face." He rushed over when Cloud's knees began to wobble. He outstretched his arm, hand raising towards Cloud's wounded and trembling lip. "Look at me."

His hand was quickly smacked away, the sound echoing in the now quieted hallway. Cloud glared up at him with his own vivid eyes.

"Been through too much, huh?"

Zack took a single step back, bringing his hand to his body in shock.

"I knew it was pity," Cloud whispered, his voice breaking with every word, breaking with his strength, his trust …

… breaking with Zack's heart.

"That's all it ever was."

… To be continued in Chapter Fifty: Overturned.

Ending Author's Note: I wrote the opening to this chapter while listening to B-52's' "Rock Lobster". How the HELL was I able to concentrate?

Erm, yeah. I love this chapter. One of my personal favorites. You all probably hate it though. XD I won't blame you …

… Or will I …?

A few notes:

Towhead is a term for someone with extremely blond hair, almost white. Most blond children are considered towheads (pronounced like toe head) and as they get older, their hair tends to turn darker. Cloud was probably a towhead when he was a baby … nnggh so cute.

Also, the mission that the psychologist mentioned that Ratcliff went on was mentioned a really, really long time ago. Think back to chapter thirty-one. Graves' inner musing mentioned Ratcliff coming back from a mission where he was ordered to kill a deserter and was all loopy afterwards. Lol long-ago foreshadowing. There's quite a lot of that in this story. But yeah, that's what the psychologist was referring to at the middle of this chapter. She was his doctor at the time. And whooooa she was married! Random fact is random …

… Or is it? O3O

SO! With the next chapter I'm planning on releasing random tidbits of information about this story. Like, how many words and pages it is, how many hours I've spent working on it, how many personal maladies I've suffered while writing "Malady" … just interesting statistics that I think a few of you might enjoy reading since you've stuck with me for so long so far. So if you have a specific question you'd like answered about "Malady", feel free to ask and I shall answer them in my next author's note (so long as they are somewhat appropriate and don't reveal any plot)! Don't be shy.

Next chapter will be Tuesday, May 31st. I knooooow don't cry … another month. But I'm almost over that plot hill that's been slowing me down that I mentioned previously. Thank you for your patience as I trudge on. :3

Edit 05-30-11:

Malady fan-art! Whoo! For this chapter too! It's from a friend on deviantART named BeforeTheMomentGirl! Check it out! (Remove the spaces between the address):

h t t p : / / beforethemomentgirl. deviantart. com / art / Malady-Fanart-Ch-49-210736436

It's so pretty...I just love the colors she used in Cloud's skin and the background and stuff. = w = Thank you, MomentGirl!