Chapter Fifty: Overturned
"Are you cold?"
"N-no."
"You are trembling. We cannot start unless you are relaxed."
"O-okay."
"I need you to relax."
"I-I am."
There was a pause.
"Please, take this."
A little pill was offered in a plastic medicine cup. A cup of water followed that, then an intense stare was not far behind when he hesitated in taking it.
"Make sure you swallow it."
He shuddered and obeyed.
A few minutes passed, maybe longer. Somehow the trembling stopped, but maybe it had been the pill finally taking effect. Dr. Bleier spoke again.
"Very good."
But it didn't feel good.
"I think I shall have you lie down for this session."
"I-I'd be more comfortable sitting, yeah."
There was another pause.
"Please, do what you feel will make you most comfortable."
Running from that office would have. But that wasn't an option. It was never an option.
The lights were dimmed. He hated that. He knew what that meant.
"You will remember everything that I say during our session. Do not worry."
Dr. Bleier said that every single time. He wondered if it were true. Hours to sometimes days after their sessions his mind would be struck with forceful thoughts and remarkable ideas. Some were appealing, and all were frightening.
"Close your eyes."
He did. And he hated that he did.
"Very good. Let us revisit that serene place we talked about last time. Do you remember?
"Yes."
"Very good. Now, I want you to relax," he said, voice now calming. "Relax your hands for me."
He did, but slowly.
"Very good. Just relax your feet, and then your legs."
He did; his legs went slack, only twitching once as though knowing what was about to happen and trying to protest it.
"Very good. Feel your hips relaxing, and then your waist …"
Dr. Bleier's voice was awfully soothing now. Maybe this time wouldn't be so bad.
"Your shoulders are relaxing now, yes, very good. And now your neck is relaxing …"
His shoulders sank. His head began to nod as Dr. Bleier's voice seemed to flow over him.
"Very good. Now you can feel your body relaxing all over."
His breathing slowed, his head slumped forward.
"As I continue to talk, that feeling will get stronger, relaxing you until you are in a deep and peaceful state of hypnosis. Each word I say is pulling you deeper into that state … deeper and deeper. As I talk, that relaxed feeling is getting stronger and stronger, taking you deep into that peaceful state …"
His voice started washing over him like continuous waves at night against a shore, lapping at a steady and rhythmic pace.
"The deeper you go, the deeper you'll want to go. The deeper you want to go, the deeper into that peaceful state you'll go. Go down, deep down. Go down … deep down."
He soon could feel his mind slipping into a subdued state, only aware of what was being said and the upright position he was sitting in on the couch …
"Very good, indeed."
… and nothing more.
"You are now deep in that peaceful state of hypnosis, only able to return when I pull you back. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Ratcliff murmured.
"Now, deep down in that peaceful state is a serene place. Imagine yourself there in a charming town surrounded by rolling hills and green trees. There is a mountain breeze that is calming; the moon is bright above you. This town that you are in is so humble that there is no need for concrete roads … no, everything is rustic and simple. Do you see it?"
He saw it – a town at night with dirt roads tucked beneath mismatched, rural houses where each were nestled closely together. There were trees surrounding the little town, and the breeze … it felt real. But the town hardly looked charming. The breeze was hardly calming.
"There is an inn and wonderful shops by the entrance. Yes, very wonderful, indeed. And each one of those buildings is facing the center of the town where you stand, welcoming you …"
He hardly felt welcomed. He felt trapped – horribly trapped. He remembered this feeling from their previous session. He tried to remember why.
"And as you stand there, you look past the town and you see a glorious mountain. Yes, let us visit that mountain. As you head past those houses, each window basks you in a warm light from inside. Basking and calming … very calming. There are aromas of fires burning in their chimneys and supper in the air, you can smell it so vividly."
Ratcliff said nothing. The only aroma he could smell was mako.
"You are traveling up that mountain now. Crickets are buzzing, alight with nocturnal excitement in the bushes and trees …"
All he saw were boulders and decaying trees that had long been sapped of life. There were no crickets, only the haunting breeze and sounds of scurrying in the darkness. He didn't want to go up that mountain. He wanted to run down it and leave. He wanted the man who was speaking these things to stop. What was so important about this damn town and mountain anyway?
"When we get to the top of the mountain, I want you to tell me what you see. But we are not there yet … no, not yet. You are now climbing higher and higher, crossing strong bridges that are undisturbed in the wind of the upper mountain, trekking so high that you can now see that charming town below. You are almost to the top now, that feeling of deep peace you are in washing away any fatigue you may have felt along the climb."
No … he felt tired. Very, very tired. There was no peace deep within him; there was nothing but churning turmoil beginning to surface as he further climbed that mountain that Dr. Bleier was laying out for him.
"Now, coming into your view is the top of the mountain. The long trek is over. Your feet do not ache, your knees are free of pressure, your shoulders are light. You are calm and relaxed. What do you see?"
Ratcliff stared at a familiar structure on a familiar mountain, under a familiar moon over a familiar town – all things he would rather soon forget than revisit. The structure was neither massive or grand, nor was it representing any sort of serene or calming emotion that Dr. Bleier was suggesting he should be feeling.
It was a structure of unimaginable depravity.
"What do you see?" Dr. Bleier said again.
Ratcliff felt himself beginning to answer despite every remaining ounce of will he had left to not say it.
"A reactor."
Dr. Bleier made a noise of interest. His voice reflected this interest. "A mako reactor?"
"Yes," Ratcliff whispered.
"Very good."
It was a mako reactor; the very same atop Mt. Nibel. The very same that imprisoned not only dozens of mutated humans, but also Graves. Casey Graves … his friend … his friend that had died by his hand because he was too weak to stop him from leaving and too weak to save him.
"Let us go inside, and tell me what you see."
Panic began to fill him as his body traitorously moved to Dr. Bleier's words. He found himself walking up those cold, metal steps. He found himself slipping through that heavy metal door and into the bleak darkness of the reactor. The air reeked of processed mako, churning his stomach with each breath he took, reminding him of the monstrosities that lay dormant before him. Each pod was there exactly as he remembered. Ominous and symbolically they stood like tombstones in those rows, dim and greenish lights shining through each of the windows, casting haunting shadows across Ratcliff's form.
He wanted to run. He wanted to turn and never look back again. He just wanted this to end. To relive this over and over again … it was pure torture.
"You are relaxed," he heard Dr. Bleier say, perhaps in more of a commanding tone now than before. "Tell me, what do you see?"
He saw himself walking up those steps. He saw his hand on the glass of the pod, staring at the face of a monster. He saw himself panic and cry. He saw his friend die in his arms.
No more. He couldn't take it.
He could still hear himself screaming at Graves; he could still hear himself sobbing and begging. But through that, Dr. Bleier began to speak to him rapidly, tonelessly, instructing him of something that he couldn't quite understand at first through the rush of hysteria.
"You can end it."
He was trying. He clawed his way out, heart racing and sweat clinging to every inch of his skin.
"You have the power to end it."
He felt himself coming back as Dr. Bleier continued to speak, but the haunting memory was still with him. It was clutching on and trying to hold him there with the other grotesque beings who already had their souls stripped away by Shin-Ra. If he couldn't leave right now, would he last there? Forever trapped between an unforgiving memory and its demented reality?
"You are coming back now. As you come back," Dr. Bleier said, his voice clearer than before, "you will remember what you saw. As you come back you will tell me what you saw."
He finally forced open his eyes – bleary, hazed.
Dr. Bleier sat before him back in his office, his face chiseled in what could have been displeasure. His cold eyes burned into Ratcliff's for a moment, then moved down his body.
Ratcliff looked down at himself too, seeing his fingers gripping his uniform trousers with knuckles blanched. The muffler around his neck was damp with sweat; the skin on his face soaked as well, possibly with tears.
His chest hurt. His head hurt.
… Would he last here?
"The hypnosis has ended prematurely. Far too prematurely."
Ratcliff peeled a hand away from his trousers, brought it to his hair and ran it through in utter exhaustion.
"Now … tell me what you saw."
He felt probed and prodded; forcefully thrust into his secret and demanded that it be revealed. There was still the feeling of his mind being in that subdued state, so any second he could take to collect himself would work in his favor. His tongue itched to move and his lips burned to speak, but somewhere in his muddled subconscious he knew not to give into those urges that Dr. Bleier was feeding to him.
"I-I don't … feel so hot, yeah," he murmured.
"You will feel better when you tell me what you saw inside that reactor."
He tried to gain his bearings and he tried to focus his wavering mind on anything that he could to keep his consciousness with him. This man's voice … how it lulled him. How he hated it.
He could only think to lie down on the couch, partially feigning ailment to buy a little time before he had to give an answer. Dr. Bleier shifted impatiently in his chair.
"I need you to sit up for me, please. We are not completely done with our session."
"You said I could do whatever made me feel more comfortable, yeah."
Dr. Bleier was silent, save for a short rustling of papers in Ratcliff's file.
"C-Can I leave now, yeah?" Ratcliff asked weakly, already knowing the answer to this.
"I need you to tell me what you saw."
"I-I saw … exactly what you told me to see. I felt exactly how you told me to feel."
"You were not exhibiting behaviors of which I was describing to you. This leads me to believe that we have tapped into some memory that is troubling you."
"N-nothing is troubling me."
"If nothing is troubling you, then describing what you saw inside that reactor should not be a problem."
"I don't know what I saw because I don't know what the inside of a mako reactor looks like. Infantry is not exactly cleared to go inside."
Dr. Bleier was silent again, this time scribbling something down in the file.
Ratcliff relaxed, if only a little. That seemed to have shut the man up about it.
After some time of silence, Ratcliff managed to struggle into a sitting position, his body having protested the movement greatly. He watched Dr. Bleier out of the corner of his eye continue to scribble furiously in the file. It was unnerving. What was more unnerving was that their hour-long session had passed already, and it had only felt like five minutes to him.
"We got further than we have today than our previous sessions," Dr. Bleier finally said, shutting the file and setting it neatly in his lap. "I do believe that the next session we can get even further."
"U-Um … c-can there … not be a next session, yeah?"
"It is either that or corrective custody."
A little timer on Dr. Bleier's desk chimed, signaling the end of their session, and Ratcliff nearly jumped to his feet. His whole body shook as he moved, both from what he had just endured and from the devastation of the answer he just received.
He staggered to the door, barely finding the ability to grasp the doorknob through a swarm of emotions swelling inside.
Unforgiving memory or not, he was still trapped in its demented reality.
"See you this Friday, Mr. Ratcliff."
The cold air conditioner nor the mundane muzak could deter Cloud from listening in. The air was easy to deal with. It was only a simple push of the button on the thermostat. The music proved to be a bit harder, but that was only because he had to drag a chair over to the overhead speaker in the center of the office to be able to reach the volume knob.
The psychologist had been even more of a challenge, but after Cloud had implored her to help – he didn't explain what had happened, only that something did and that he needed her help – she eventually gave in. Although she made her displeasure quite apparent with a constant soundtrack of sighing and tutting. Even more consistent were her facial expressions over Cloud's antics. A firm frown, tumbling eyes when he would strain his legs to reach as far as he could to the air vent with his ears while standing on the couch, even rubbing her forehead in irritation when those strained legs would wobble and nearly send him crashing to the floor.
"Don't expect me to treat your injuries if you fall," she had said warningly. And yet, any time he would let out a surprised curse if he were to feel as though he were to fall, she would shoot up from her chair and rush over to help steady him.
She eventually gave up and reiterated her statement when he would not relent, and then busied herself in the storage room attached to her office while he ignored her and continued. He could tell she was listening for the inevitable crash, as her busywork would pause and he would see her peek around the corner at him every now and then while he listened to Dr. Bleier and Ratcliff in the next room over.
He had come about twice a week for the past three weeks to try listening in under the guise of receiving actual sessions from the psychologist. She gave him an ultimatum – one fake session a week in which he could try and listen in, for a real session in which she could resume her professional evaluations of him. But when Cloud refused, she gave in anyway. She was probably under the assumption that Cloud would attempt to find out what was going on with Ratcliff on his own by using different and more dangerous means, which she was right to assume. So as much as the company had been watching them, this seemed to be the safest way to go about their eavesdropping, and so she eventually allowed it. Given Cloud's previous history, they hoped that it would seem less suspicious using scheduled appointments as their cover.
There were still several conditions made. Their sessions would be canceled immediately if Shin-Ra showed any signs of arising suspicion, and each session would be conducted during overlapping times to Ratcliff's appointments. They could never be at the exact same time.
Cloud, of course, agreed.
The first session mainly consisted of Cloud looking about her office for any signs of recording devices or hidden cameras, per Kunsel's suggestion. Picture frames were inspected closely, potted plants were rifled through, books in her bookcases were opened and shuffled around. Cloud even overturned the cushions on the couch, and that beaded pillow he grew that strange affinity for had been no exception.
Everything seemed normal. Perhaps Shin-Ra still had a bit of trust left in the psychologist, but this still was unnerving to Cloud. However, after an hour of turning the place inside out, Cloud had been forced to feel satisfied that her office was not bugged.
The second session wasn't very successful in finding anything out, but that was not to say that it was uneventful. Cloud only had about twenty minutes of their appointments overlapping, and most of that was just listening to Dr. Bleier murmuring steadily. But after a while, Cloud heard what sounded like Ratcliff becoming hysterical, and then the door to the office shutting hard. Cloud had become so excited that he had to wait several minutes to follow him as to not look so anxious as he left afterwards. By the time he managed to school his emotions, Ratcliff had already left and fled somewhere else in the building before he could catch up and confront him.
Cloud didn't see him until later on that night well after lights-out when the man came stumbling into the barracks very much drunk and very much a shaking mess. Any attempt that Cloud made to try and talk with him about not only his wellbeing, but also what had happened in the hallway weeks earlier, went ignored.
In fact, Cloud had been completely ignored by Ratcliff since the incident. Any attempt he made to initiate a conversation was blatantly rejected. At times Cloud was almost thankful that Ratcliff was doing this, as he honestly didn't know what to say or do once Ratcliff finally permitted them to talk. Yet when the psychologist had advised to 'just be there for him', it made any effort seem so pointless when Ratcliff wouldn't allow him to do just that. But Cloud refused to give up, and he refused to stop caring or to be the one to ignore his obvious distress. When Ratcliff continued to become more jittery and withdrawn, turning his back on his friend seemed impossible. And Cloud could tell a lot of the avoidance was done out of shame – there was no mistaking it as Cloud was doing exactly the same thing to Zack.
He had passed by the SOLDIER a few times in the halls, each time Zack looking as though he wanted to approach but never did. And even Cloud found himself about to walk over to him or even visit him in his quarters … but he never did. Cloud had even spent an entire hour in the gym with him one day, but only a painful moment did they spend making eye contact. And that single moment was enough to convey unfathomable hurt and confusion between them.
Yet no effort was made to ease that hurt, or to explain that confusion as the weeks went by. They only went on their separate ways.
They tried not to look back, but they did. And it only hurt more.
Cloud's initial scorn had lifted mostly, only occasional flares of anger rising in him when he would replay Zack's actions and words in his head from that night. He tried not to, and maybe he just wanted to forgive Zack, but it was hard when he felt so betrayed.
Zack had felt betrayed as well; it was obvious what it had looked like between Ratcliff and Cloud, and even though Cloud knew that that was not what had honestly happened, he still felt somehow guilty, like they had actually kissed and that he had cheated on Zack. Perhaps he had felt guilty that he was powerless to stop any of it from happening in the first place. And deep in his mind, Cloud wondered how Zack would react now if he were to find out about what happened in Kalm. Maybe now he would think that what happened with Mejia had actually been consensual all along.
"Mr. Strife, you'll be the death of me."
Steady and firm hands were on his hips; he hadn't realized that his legs were not only wobbling, but the whole couch was rocking beneath his feet. He looked down and saw the psychologist standing beside the couch and holding onto him with a smirk on her face. She tightened her grip when he lowered down from his tiptoes.
"I come to work to get away from a stubborn boy who doesn't listen to me. Now I have another to deal with," she said lightheartedly. "Will you please just give it a rest? You've been at this for twenty minutes. You're working up a sweat, you realize."
He hadn't. He wiped at his forehead, which was indeed damp.
"Sit." She gestured to the cushions beneath his socked feet. She had made him remove his boots before he was allowed to step up there, probably having spotted his footprints from the first time he had done this when she had left him alone in her office.
"Just a little longer," he mumbled, jerking a bit as the cushions moved beneath his legs.
"Were you even listening to them in the past few minutes? You looked as though you were spacing out. You were muttering to yourself."
Had he? He frowned at this.
Her smirk was gone, a concerned look on her face now. "You didn't realize you were doing that?"
He looked back up to the air vent, saying nothing.
"Get down. Now."
He ignored her.
She tutted at him for the umpteenth time that session and left him be, sitting back down at her desk with an exasperated sigh.
He was thankful that that was the last noise she made, as he began to hear Dr. Bleier talking again.
But he found that he had a hard time listening in, partly because Dr. Bleier was talking in a much more hushed tone now, and partly because his mind began to dart through his thoughts rapidly again, like flipping through an uninteresting magazine.
It wasn't as though he were uninterested in what was going on – it was far from that. He was just having quite the battle to stay focused. The moment his ears would pick up a certain word or phrase clearly, his brain began to cycle through any explanation it could come up with to have a better understanding as to what was going on in there. By the time he came up with an idea, he would already be well behind in the current conversation taking place.
He also had to fight with trying not to think about Zack.
This went on for quite some time, and he was only able to pick out a few words from what he could hear.
Town.
He strained his hearing and his legs again, balancing and listening as best he could.
Mountain.
A throbbing pain began to form in Cloud's head the more he strained.
Mako reactor.
Nibelheim.
The room suddenly shifted when the couch wobbled beneath his feet, and he collapsed down onto the cushions before the psychologist could hurry over and steady him. He lay there, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard her rush to his side, then felt her hands on his body to shake him slightly.
Her voice seemed distant and insignificant. "I knew this was a bad idea." She pushed him down when he tried to get back up defiantly. "It's your head, isn't it?"
He could only moan a response, burying his face in that beaded pillow when the pain would not subside and when she would not allow him to sit up.
"Do you have your medication on you?"
Her cool hand burned on his hot forehead. He tried to shake his head no, but knew he didn't. Her hands were now pressing against his neck and face.
"Cloud?"
He couldn't form the words to reply to her through the pain.
"Just rest here for a while."
He didn't want to … he wanted to continue to listen, and he tried telling her this. He wanted to find out what the hell was going on in that office and what the hell was going through Ratcliff's head as of late.
Cloud instead fell asleep.
There was more dampness on his face now, but it was what felt like a cold compress and not sweat. A cool breeze and a noisy vent accompanied it, and Cloud slowly opened his eyes to the air conditioner blaring once more overhead, and the psychologist staring down at him with that frown again. She didn't say anything at first, only patted his face with a wet cloth. She must have been doing that for a while as his hair around his face was plastered to his skin.
His eyes immediately rolled over to the clock on her desk, but he couldn't make out the time with his blurred vision.
"Thirty minutes," she said down at him, pulling the compress away and watching as he blinked heavily. "You've been asleep for thirty minutes."
"Why didn't you wake me?" he said, his voice hoarse. He rubbed at his eyes, finally gaining back clear sight but still feeling a lingering pressure in his head from the headache.
"Your health is more important."
He groaned at that; of course she would say that.
"Their session should be just about done. It's no more use for today."
He bolted up, ignoring any pain that coursed through his head and ignoring the fact that she had removed his muffler from around his neck, opened up his uniform blouse and even removed his socks as he slept.
"You have a fever," she said simply, watching him as he tenaciously began to clamber back up onto the cushions. "You need to go to the infirmary."
"No, it's nothing. I'm just tired."
"I understand your hesitance, Cloud, but I hate to tell you that exhaustion does not cause fevers."
When he ignored her and cursed to himself, realizing that he had to get down and turn the thermostat off again to be able to hear, her voice became more commanding and less suggesting.
"If you do not come down from that couch and get some proper rest, I will cancel our deal."
Cloud looked down at her slowly, taking in a very uncharacteristic angry look. Usually she held her face in a stern manner, but he could actually see her jaw clenching this time. Her eyes bored into him as though to challenge her threat.
A door closing roughly next door shook through the walls and Cloud realized that Ratcliff was leaving. He glanced at the clock again – it was a bit earlier than usual. He jumped down off the couch, his knees giving out slightly when he landed, but he managed to keep his balance as he rushed to the door.
"Cloud!" the psychologist said, following him. She managed to reach the door first during his stumble and she blocked it.
"Please, move. I need to follow him."
She just stood there, one arm outstretched and blocking the doorknob.
"Move!" he said loudly, almost shouting.
It took him a moment to realize that she was holding his boots out to him with her other hand.
His face reddened and became hotter than his alleged fever was already making it. He took them from her sheepishly and tossed them to the ground, not bothering to lace them properly or to even remove his socks that were folded up and shoved inside.
She opened the door and watched as he hobbled out into the hallway, his laces trailing behind. "We made good progress today, Cloud," she said loudly. "See you this Friday."
Cloud muttered a goodbye to her and then muttered a very nervous hello when Dr. Bleier stepped out of his office to watch as Ratcliff left through the front door. The man looked down at him as he passed and gave him a nod, but nothing more.
He left the office as fast as he could for his boots being on sloppily.
The first thing he saw in the bustle of the hallway was a dark and very bald Turk. The man was wearing sunglasses, but Cloud could feel his eyes on him. He had seen this Turk before, but recalling a name was hard in the sudden panic he was feeling when the man turned from looking at him to Ratcliff, who was standing in wait at the elevator.
Cloud immediately turned and rounded a corner out of sight. He waited a few moments before he peeked out and saw that the Turk was being approached by the female one he had encountered in the sandwich shop. She spoke a few words to him before handing him a stack of paperwork with what Cloud could only assume was a flirtatious smile.
Her eyes flicked over to Ratcliff momentarily, and then straight to Cloud.
He slipped back around the corner and let out a shaking breath. There were other people roaming about the halls, so perhaps she had looked over at someone else. Yet somehow, he doubted it.
Again, he peeked around. The female Turk was still looking his way as she spoke to the other Turk casually, who didn't seem very much engaged in the conversation. And again, she looked from Ratcliff to Cloud, and to Cloud's sudden surprise, she pulled the stack of paperwork away from her body and let a few folders plop to the ground, scattering papers everywhere.
The male Turk seemed neither amused nor irritated over this, but merely squatted down to help her collect everything. She laughed it off and helped him, but Cloud noticed she tipped the stack in her arms to the side again, allowing more to fall into the mess.
The elevator arrived and opened. Cloud sucked in a breath and darted out from around the corner to follow Ratcliff inside. He thought he saw the female Turk give him what could have been a kind smile, but he wasn't sure. The doors closed.
Upon seeing Cloud enter behind him, Ratcliff immediately began jabbing the button to open the doors repeatedly. They remained closed and the cart began to move, so he jabbed at the button for the next floor.
"We need to talk," Cloud said, watching as the man frantically pressed the button over and over, as though expecting the elevator to instantly appear at the next floor.
"T-There's nothing to talk about, yeah."
"There's plenty."
Ratcliff was quiet, fidgeting uncomfortably now that he had stopped abusing the buttons. Cloud was silent as well, unsure of what to say to this man. He looked nothing short of disastrous in appearance and demeanor, and he feared that anything he would say would push Ratcliff over the edge.
But when he decided to speak, they both spoke at the same time.
"M-my lip is healed now."
"I fucked you and Zack up, didn't I, yeah?"
Cloud looked away.
"I fucked us up … didn't I?"
"No, Ratcliff," Cloud said solemnly. "Don't think that. That's why we just need to talk. I … want to understand what's going on."
"I can't tell you, yeah. We've been through this, yeah," Ratcliff said, his voice shaking as well as his body.
"No, I mean with you." Cloud pressed his lips together for a moment, whirling through things to say and how to say them, but coming up so very short. "What … uh … what was that … back then?"
"I don't know, yeah. I just don't know. Forget it happened, yeah?"
Cloud looked at Ratcliff, and as much as he could tell Ratcliff wanted to look his way, he never did. "I can't forget it happened."
"O-of course you can't, h-how fucking stupid of me. It ruined you and Zack, yeah. How stupid. Stupid, stupid, yeah."
Cloud reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. That was all he could think to do.
"It just looked really bad, that's all, yeah," Ratcliff muttered quickly, nodding to himself. "I was trying to get a closer look, yeah? I was feeling terrible about what I did … you looked so upset …"
The cart stopped at whichever floor Ratcliff had pressed earlier.
Ratcliff finally looked at Cloud, blue eyes wide and being held up by horribly dark circles.
Cloud smiled as best he could. He gave his shoulder a small squeeze.
Ratcliff sighed and hit the button to close the doors. It obeyed silently and then the cart shuddered and began to move again. They stood in silence, both not knowing where to go or even how to get there.
"Are there cameras in the elevators?" Cloud finally asked, looking above the button panel and up at the ceiling.
"I-I'm not sure, yeah. If there is, there wouldn't be audio, yeah. At least, t-that's what Kunsel says." Ratcliff glanced around too, and Cloud could feel him beginning to shake again. "M-maybe we should get off somewhere and meet up back at the barracks."
Cloud didn't want that. He had a feeling that Ratcliff would run if given the chance. But the cart stopped and the door opened.
They both froze, staring face-to-face with Zack.
Zack's eyes hardened as they trailed over Ratcliff, who was sweating and breathing hard, and then to Cloud, who had his hand on Ratcliff's shoulder with his uniform blouse still undone, his muffler hanging about his neck and his boots not on properly. He too was clammy and nervous-looking.
Cloud could only imagine what it looked like.
No one moved for what felt like hours. It was Zack first who finally did and he just stepped off to the side to let them out, looking straight ahead with a vacant look on his face.
Cloud's hand slid off Ratcliff's shoulder, not because he pulled it away, but because Ratcliff began to quake violently.
They exited warily, Cloud's eyes daring to dart up to Zack's as they passed. Zack only looked straight on, his eyes above Cloud's head as though he were not there. If Zack had muttered anything as he passed, Cloud couldn't hear over Ratcliff hyperventilating beside him.
Cloud heard Zack enter the elevator behind, and he glanced over his shoulder to him. Zack's eyes were locked onto his as he waited for the doors to close, and all that hurt and confusion was back again between them.
And only when the doors closed did their eye contact break, and what was left was still that feeling of guilt.
It always did hurt to look back.
… To be continued in Chapter Fifty-One: Chain Reaction.
Really, really long ending author's babble: That subtle hint at RudexCissnei was for you, Soyna. ;3
Like whooooaaa, hypnosis. It was a pain in the butt to research, but it was interesting to say the least.
First: Malady Fan-art, by the lovely BeforeTheMomentGirl on deviantART. com. It's from Chapter Forty-Nine...so sad. ; w ; (Remove the spaces in the address!)
h t t p : / / beforethemomentgirl. deviantart. com/ art/ Malady-Fanart-Ch-49-210736436
Thank you, MomentGirl...so pretty, despite it being about a sad scene. And if you have trouble with the link here, it's also in my profile.
EDIT!: lady-yuna7 scribbled the most amazing chibi picture of Ratcliff in his infantry uniform EVER! SO ADORABLE! (Remove the spaces in the address!)
h t t p : / / lady-yuna7. deviantart. com/ art/ Ratcliff-chibi-211105778
HEEEEEEEEE CUTE RATTY IS CUUUUUTE! OMFG.
EDIT AGAIN 06-03-11: BeforeTheMomentGirl again drew some fan-art! The opening scene to this chapter, actually, with Ratcliff and stupid Bleier! (Remove the spaces in the address!)
h t t p : / / beforethemomentgirl. deviantart. com/ art/ malady-Fanart-Ch-50-211585159
Thank you again, MomentGirl! You are too sweet to me!
Second: I have a new one-shot published! It's a Zack and Angeal fan-fic called "An Orchid's Lie". Some of you have read it already, and I thank you! But for those who might be interested, here's a quick summary: "Zack will stop at nothing to make his dream of being a 1st Class SOLDIER, even it means lying to Angeal. But a single, harmless lie for the sake of getting good graces can easily backfire, and soon Zack finds himself in over his head when volunteering to house-sit for Angeal." It's canon, but if you squint you can see the hints of yaoi. Lol I hope you check it out and enjoy it! It's total fluff. Find it through my profile, of course.
Third: I said I was going to reveal some statistics about this story (since it's chapter fifty) and few questions that people have asked me. Enjoy some statistics and factoids.
Some Stats:
Total chapters so far: 53 (50 published)
Total word count in published chapters: 308,249
Total word count (all chapters): 323,783
Total pages in word document: 517 (at size 12 font, Arial)
Total pages if made into an actual book: 1,295 (approximate)
Total months in writing: 23 months (approximate)
Total editing time spent in word document: 2142:54:69 (I'm not sure exactly how long that is. This is how my word processor broke it down. XD)
Shortest chapter (including author's note): Chapter Eight: Color of Existence (3,643 words)
Longest chapter (including author's note): Chapter Thirty-Six: Cause and Effect (8,880 words)
Chapter with the most reviews: Chapter One: Enigma (27)
Chapter with the least reviews: Chapter Thirty: R&R (5...LOL)
Hardest scene to write so far: The hypnosis scene at the beginning of chapter fifty! AARGH!
How many pieces of fan-art/videos for "Malady": 47 pieces of art from 8 individuals, and 2 videos from 2 individuals!
Some facts:
Mejia, Kumpf, Haskin, Zabalza, and Bleier are all last names of people that I know in real life. :D
We have a street in the city I live in that's named "Graves". I laughed so hard when I saw that for the first time. XD
I was incredibly nervous writing the first molestation scene in chapter four. I couldn't even write certain words because I was that bashful about it. Even writing Clack's make-out session in the women's bathroom in chapter ten made me blush. Now writing smut doesn't bother me in the least. LOL PENIS, PENIS, PENIS.
Some questions from the readers:
Tookkia asked what my favorite type of cheese is – Pepper jack. LOL You weirdo.
The Silent Black Violin asked (and others in the past): "How did you come up with the plot for this?" – It originally started out as a one-shot or drabble to get my yaoi demons out while writing my other story "Existing". The beginning was really supposed to be them having sex, but since I had never really written a sex scene before, I chickened out and made it what it is now. After I wrote a few chapters, I started coming up with the main plot. At this point I can't really say how I came up with it as it would give away some things, but I was lying in bed trying to sleep with my mind racing around, and one thought led to another in some crazy process, and the idea came to me. I'll explain further when the time comes.
Soyna wants me to reveal the maladies I've suffered while writing "Malady" – Spinal surgery; a bad cold that caused a torn muscle in my stomach area (they thought it was appendicitis) from coughing for a month and a half, and it laid me up for three weeks; a sprained thumb, wrist and ankle after tripping over a baby gate; attacked by my cat (like...majorly mauled...not just a tiny scratch. It was back in June of 2010, and my leg still hurts where the scars are!); carpal tunnel; a month's worth of depression; a cyst on the bottom of my foot; my jaw moving out of place from TMJ and now I can't eat certain foods properly and need braces to fix my problem; and now I need more surgery on my spine to fuse a few vertebrae together. LOL LIFE IS GOOD! Soyna says this is my punishment for hurting Cloud in this story. Every time I make him worse, something seems to happen. Seriously, I'm probably forgetting a few things that have happened to me.
lady-yuna7 and I were talking and got onto the topic of how I came up with the name of this story and she wanted me to share it – Eight years ago I wrote this Trigun fan-fic called "Geranium" and one of the chapters was named "Malady", since it was about Vash getting some strange Plant-related illness (I dunno what's up with me and my favorite blond characters getting sick...I swear I'm sane! I SWEAR!) and I took the name for this story from that chapter. So thank my Trigun fandom for the name of this Final Fantasy VII story. LOL
I think that's enough for now. I'll release updated stats when I finish the story to compare for those that may be interested. :3
Next chapter will be out on Tuesday, June 17th!- EDIT. I'M AN IDIOT. WRONG DATE. SORRY, PEOPLE. TUESDAY JUNE 21ST.