In Which We Find Our Immortality
Chapter 10: In Circles, Spinning and Spinning
"Collin, please try to understand."
"No! I won't! Leave me alone!" Collin withdrew from the voice that had followed him all night, even through his nightmares. "I don't want you here! Get out—get out!"
"Collin, please. You'll only hurt yourself more, any—"
"I don't care! Get out!"
Collin's eyes snapped open, abruptly cutting off his dream. For a moment he didn't recognize where he was. The room was dark, save beginning traces of dawn that crept sluggishly through the blinds. He blinked several times and the scenery fell into place; he was in his room. The bed sheets were twisted about his limbs and damp with sweat. He was suddenly reminded of his nightmares, and the horror of it all caused him to panic. "Mother?" he called, sitting bolt upright. "Mom—Dad!"
"Hush, Collin." Shera was beside him. He saw nothing but her open arms, and fell into them gratefully. She held him, soothing his fear with soft murmurs as he cried. "You're all right, Dear. Hush now."
He couldn't stop the tears. He hid within her embrace, sobbing openly in shame and sorrow. It had all been too much for him, and his body trembled uncontrollably. Several minutes passed before he began to recover from the shock. Gradually, his tears slowed.
"There, now. You're all right, Collin." Shera eased him back, wiping his eyes and face with some tissue. She evidently had been using it herself; her eyes were puffy and red. "Let me look at you."
Collin sat back, letting his mother judge him by his looks. She checked his back, though no signs were left indicating his transformation from the day before. Satisfied that he seemed all right physically, she focused on his state of mind. "Do you remember what happened?"
"A bit," he replied, shuddering. He remembered watching the performance, and that horrible went his back was twisted and set ablaze. The only thing he could recall clearly was Cloud, standing at the back of the theater indifferently, and then the nightmares that followed.
Shera bit her lip nervously, then released it to take a deep breath. "Collin there are some things I have to tell you, and it's not going to be easy for you to hear."
The boy nodded. After the night he'd had, nothing could frighten or disturb him more. "It's Jenova, isn't it? I have it in me."
"…Yes," she said hesitantly. Shera then went on to describe everything she'd heard from Cloud, word for word when she could remember. Collin listened without remark, storing every bit of information into his memory. The truth was staggering, but no worse than he'd expected. It was almost promising to know that he did, in some way, control the outcome of his fate.
"When you feel up to it," Shera said once her tale had ended, "I want you to speak to Vincent. I've known him for a long time, and he's a good man. I'm sure there's plenty you can learn form him."
"Yeah." Collin nodded vaguely. His mind was spinning—spinning with questions, memories, and anxiety. He tried to reign his emotions least they prove dangerous to him and his family, but it couldn't be helped.
"Now, I know it's a lot." The woman smiled faintly. "But you're going to have to be strong, like all of us. We'll help you, too. You won't have to do this alone. That was Cloud's mistake." She sighed wearily. "You'll have to face him, too, I'm afraid. And soon."
Collin nodded once more, accepting what was to come. Right now, however, he only wanted to rest. His sleep had not been at all peaceful, and the weight of to many burdens sat heavily on his eyelids. "Mom, I'm tired."
"Alright." Shera eased him back. She stripped the bed of his sheets. "Let me get you some fresh sheets, though. You'll sleep better."
"Yeah. Thanks, Mom." He paused, gazing at her with a twinge of sadness. Though he'd suspected it before, the realizations of the previous night had proven it: this woman was not his real mother. He hadn't the chance to speak to her since then. His mouth felt dry as he diffidently asked, "I can still call you that, can't I?"
Shera returned his gaze silently, as if finally realizing for herself the truth that had been uncovered. Her expression softened quickly into one of gentle seriousness, sitting again on the bed's edge. "Collin, did you know that you've been living here for ten years?"
Collin shook his head. He had no idea how old he'd been when he was taken from his real parents.
"Well, you were four years old when your mother died." He sat up once more, and she wrapped her left arm about his shoulders. "Your father—Cid—left here to get your real parents, Cloud and Tifa Strife, in Kalm. Daryl was only three at the time, and I was pregnant with Samantha. Vincent had been living with us for a year, and he still wouldn't talk much.
"So here I was, with a strange man, a little one and another on the way, when Cid comes home with you and Marlene."
"Marlene?" Collin asked curiously.
Shera nodded. "That's right. Her father, Barret Wallace, passed away along with your mother." Her smile, though rueful, was also deeply caring. "Cid told me what happened. And when he was done, I told him that I would love you both as my own, no questions asked. And I have, all this time."
"I…." He tried to speak, but stopped when he felt a tear trickle down his cheek. He wiped it away and smiled. "Thank you, Mom."
Shera returned his smile, and gave him a quick hug. "That's my boy. Now, you should—"
She was cut off by the doorbell ringing. "That's odd," she said, frowning. "Who visits this early on Sunday?"
Collin sat up a little straighter as a chill ran up his back. Somehow, he knew that something wasn't right. It's Cloud, he realized. He's afraid.
Cloud stared straight ahead, as if avoiding eye contact with the visitors would spare him from notice. He was partially hidden already in the living room, seated on the couch facing the television. He could hear Cid speaking with his guests in the kitchen. A woman did most of the talking—Cid called her "President." A man was with her, tall and well built, and another who was short and balding. Cloud didn't hear either man's name, but the title "professor" on the second caused him to shudder. He remembered all to vividly the so-called "benefits" and "wonders" of science.
They had come for Collin. They would take him, keep him in their laboratories, and expose him to their tests. He would be probed, pierced, gutted, and brainwashed to satisfy some sick bastards' curiosity.
Cloud rose slowly to his feet.
Collin quickly changed his clothes and went downstairs, Shera beside him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, clearly sensing the strange air. He reached the bottom floor to find Cid speaking with Cassandra and Broddick Matthews, along with a man he didn't recognize. "—To finally meet you in person, Mr. Highwind," the gray-haired man was saying as he shook Cid's hand. "Terribly sorry about your son. How—" He broke off, having spotted the boy in question at the base of the stairs. "Ah, there he is, isn't he? He looks well."
Cid turned, and Collin was oddly pleased to see the blatant relief in his face. "Collin, are you…?"
"I'm okay," he said, saving his dad from a show of emotion in front of these people. He managed a confident grin. "A little tired, but okay."
"That's good to hear," Cassandra said before the boy's father could answer. "I was at the performance yesterday. That was quite an event."
Collin nodded. He had met the president before, and was willing to be polite to her. But her presence made him wary—what could she want from him?
A hand came down on his shoulder, and he jumped a bit in surprise. He knew who it was by the feel of the thick fingers, and the restrained intensity of the grip. When he looked up, however, Cloud's gaze was unreadable. Collin frowned. It was if the man were making a protective gesture.
Cassandra looked the former world savior over very carefully. She knew better than to extend her hand. "Cloud Strife. Finally, we meet."
Cloud nodded curtly. "President. I already heard your introductions." His eyes flashed, briefly and sharply, to Professor Arswick. "Do you have some business here?"
"Yes, in fact. I'll be very direct. I want Collin to come with us."
"No," was Cloud and Collin's simultaneous answer.
The president exchanged a glance with her scientist. "Please don't misunderstand," the latter said pleasantly. "You're not under arrest, or something of the like. I merely wish to—"
"No," Cloud interrupted brusquely. His hand tightened on the boy's shoulder.
"But it would only—"
"No."
Arswick sighed, then tried one more time. "Mr. Strife, please—"
"No."
"Cloud." Cid interposed himself between Cloud and the scientist. "Hear him out."
Cloud's eyes shone fierce defiance, but he said nothing. Collin stared at him in wonder. Is he…protecting me? The thought stirred something in his innards, a feeling he couldn't identify. He licked his lips and waited.
"Thank you, Mr. Highwind," Cassandra was saying. She cleared her throat. "To be perfectly honest, we desperately need your son's cooperation."
Broddick took it upon himself to interrupt. "Dragons are headed for the city," he said pointedly. "four of them. That's enough to destroy almost all of what we've built here. And they didn't start until after the boy's 'experience.'"
Collin straightened, drawing in a swift breath. His stomach began to churn. "Clan Dragons?" he asked timidly. "They're coming…after me?"
Professor Arswick stepped forward. Though he appeared to be a kind, rational and intelligent man, Collin couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension upon seeing the man's white coat. "Yes, Collin," the scientist said in a level tone. "I'm afraid so. We believe that they are attracted by what happened to you. Did you know that you have Jenova inside you?"
"I was told this morning," he replied. He found himself actually drawing closer to his father, and for once, the man didn't resist.
"Well, I'm sure you know that Dragons are very dangerous, and they are most likely targeting you." Collin swallowed hard. "We'd like you to come with us so that we can perform some tests, and see—"
"No," Cloud interjected firmly. His jaw was set and his eyes serious. Their blue tint gleamed malevolently. "You're not taking him."
"Cloud, please listen to them," Shera pleaded, coming up on Collin's side. "They only want to help."
The blonde's gaze snapped to her. "The only ones they want to help are themselves," he told her. "I won't let them do to him what was done to me." His hand tightened further on Collin's shoulder, and he winced as it began to throb. Collin was too stunned, however, to attempt to break free.
By now Cassandra had grown tired of their bantering back and forth. "You don't seem to understand," she began, her voice clear and sharp. "If Dragons get to this city we'll all be killed—are you willing to take responsibility for that, Mr. Strife?" She didn't wait for an answer, as the recognition was clear in his face. "We are taking the boy for testing. We believe we can help him—maybe even remove Jenova from him. We're trying to save his life."
"I can assure you that we mean no harm," added Professor Arswick.
Cid and Shera exchanged glances, silently questioning. "We appreciate your concern," said Shera evenly, "but as Mr. Strife will tell you, trying to remove Jenova is a long and painful process." She met his eyes briefly, acknowledging that she remembered his attempt at rehabilitation after the Fallout. "Can you tell us what you had in mind?"
"I can't be sure of anything until he's been tested," was Professor Arswick's reply. "But it's very important that we are allowed to take care of your son—for the safety of the city as well as his own."
Everyone looked to Collin. It was his decision now; Cid was watching him seriously. Collin averted his eyes—he didn't know what to do. He knew the power inside him was a terrible one, one that could turn even his most sacred feelings into something deadly, but was it really possible to remove it? If it was, wouldn't Cloud and Vincent have done so already?
More than that, Collin was afraid. The images from his dream assaulted him: cold, white wall; harsh neon lights; needles, and knives, and tubes—and other metal instruments he could only guess the purpose of. The thought of following the doctor, no matter how pleasant he seemed, caused his entire body to grow cold.
Don't go.
Collin nearly jumped at the force of the voice in his mind. It was Cloud's. That's right, he thought to himself, recalling what his mother had told him not an hour before. He and I are connected, somehow. When he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel the anxiety radiating from his father. His fear is what's affecting me. I…can't trust him yet, but honestly, I don't want to go. There's got to be something else I can do.
"I've had enough of this," Cloud declared suddenly. "Collin isn't going with you. Leave."
"This isn't your call," Cid retorted angrily.
"I think it should be up to the boy," added Arswick.
Before Collin could voice his own opinion, he was shoved backwards into Shera. Cloud stepped in front of them. "Get out," he growled, his fists tight at his sides. "All of you, right now."
Broddick clearly had no intention of backing down to this man, legend or not. "We're taking the boy." His determination was unwavering. "If I have to bring soldiers down your throats, I will do what I must to keep my city safe."
Collin cringed; the worst thing anyone could do in front of Cloud was to threaten him. He couldn't see the man's face, but he didn't have to—his anger filtered through the air itself, and Broddick shifted uncomfortably in the thick atmosphere. And then Cloud was speaking again.
"If you touch my son, I'll do worse than kill you."
Broddick Matthews was not a man who was frightened easily threats. He'd faced down worse monsters than a single unarmed man and found victory each time through his own bravery and cunning. But even he couldn't help but take a step back beneath Cloud Strife's raging blue orb eyes. He swallowed a bit of pride and tried to rally some courage.
In the meanwhile, his wife struggled with Cloud's spilled information. "Your son?" she echoed, stunned. She looked to Cid. "Highwind, is this true?"
"It's true," Collin replied in his stead. He recognized the feeling he'd received earlier: it was pride. His father, who had once forsaken and abandoned him, was suddenly on his side. He didn't know what had brought about the change, but it caused him to stand a little straighter. "I am Collin Strife."
Cloud stood firm; whether his son's declaration had phased him or not, the boy couldn't tell.
"How…fascinating," murmured Professor Arswick. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So, Jenova had be inherited."
"I told you to leave," Cloud reminded them. He lifted his right hand, and within his palm a green light began to form. It was the beginning of a spell. The three visitors each retreated a step, wary of magic, which was virtually unknown in the New World. "You'll find no puppets here. Now get out."
Cassandra fidgeted, unwilling even though her options were obviously limited. Her husband took her by the wrist, and she relented at last. "Collin, remember what we've said," she told the boy as one last effort. "We can help you."
"Out!" Cloud took a threatening step forward, and the trio quickly retreated. He snorted at their cowardice and closed the door behind him. The light faded from his palm.
Cid released a heavy breath, just before his temper flared. "What the f—k do you thin you're dong?" he demanded. "You have no right to make decisions like that."
"Would you have let him go?"
"That's not the goddamned point!" He advanced with an accusatory finger. "You have not lived with this boy for the past ten years. He is our son just as much as he is yours, so don't think you can act all mighty and pass judgement."
Cloud seated himself at the kitchen table. "I wasn't."
"Yes, you were. You didn't even—"
"Dad, it's okay," Collin interfered. He didn't want to watch another showdown. "I didn't want to go. He did the right thing." He smiled, but Cloud wasn't looking at him. The blue eyes were focused on something far away and distant. He frowned; the pride he'd gathered earlier began to fade.
Cid scowled disapprovingly. "Collin, you do realize what you gave up just now, don't you?" he asked seriously. "They came to help you."
He had made a great sacrifice. His fear—his unwillingness to debate Cloud—had rejected his best chance of ridding himself of Jenova. "I can't give in," he told his dad firmly. Though he spoke to Cid, his every word was meant for the man seated nearby. "Jenova doesn't seem evil. If it was, how could I still be here, and sane? I want to deal with this myself." For his mother's sake, who was watching him worriedly, he added, "Besides, they won't turn me down if I ask for help later."
Cloud was watching him. He resisted the temptation to look, knowing that it would only confuse him more. It was better to stand firm, unfaltering in his convictions. Because if he could find a way to control the strange power inside him, then he would be able to help his father overcome it as well.
"What about the Dragons?" Cloud asked quietly.
"I don't understand," Shera admitted. "Collin's been here all this time, and they haven't done a thing."
"Because his Jenova was dormant." Collin shifted under Cloud's stare as the man continued. "It wasn't a threat. Now that he's away of his power, he is a threat."
Collin licked his lips, allowing his gaze to meet Cloud's. The bright azure in Cloud's eyes was sealed in icy indifference. "What should I do?" the boy not pleaded, but questioned. He wanted Cloud to know that he was depending on him, though he was not helpless.
Cloud didn't acknowledge the significance in this simple gesture. Despite the strength of emotion he'd displayed in protecting Collin before, he now appeared only cold. "Griffins can be persuaded to back down," he said. "Wolves, Schilo, Land Worms, Behemoths, Rapps—all of those can be easily distracted or sometimes defeated. But nothing stops a Weapon Dragon, let alone four of them. They will hunt you until you are dead."
"There has to be something," murmured Shera, her words a plea.
"I suggest you take him out of the city."
Collin glared, disbelieving at what he was hearing. The man who had only moments ago defended him against the city's president was now offering him no other options. "That's it?" he said. "Just, 'sorry, you're screwed?'"
Cloud met his gaze directly. Something in him had deadened; he was beyond caring, or so it seemed. "You cannot keep them from targeting you," he stated reasonably. "They will kill you, unless you can somehow kill them. I can take one, maybe two on my own, but not four."
"You're gonna fight the f—king things?" Cid asked, clearly stunned. "But—"
"If we kill them, more will come."
Collin gave a short bark of laughter. "So I was right," he said incredulously. "You're abandoning me again, aren't you? There's no way I can win."
Cloud's impassive stare was more than ample affirmation. The boy glared, his disbelief gradually morphing into anger. "I don't believe this," he declared. "I just gave up my only chance at losing this shit for what? For you to tell me 'sorry, you're dead?' To back me into a wall? I should have gone with them!"
"There are worse fates than being killed by a Dragon."
Collin's nails dug rivets in his palms. "Yeah," he growled, the words spilling from his lips before he could think to stop them. "Like getting murdered by your husband, right?"
Cloud was on his feet and a foot from his son before his chair clattered to on the kitchen floor. Though Cid and Shera nearly panicked at the man's aggressive intent, Collin stood still. He didn't flinch in the slightest as Cloud's hands curled into blood-deprived fists. He knew—and was right—that no action would take place. Any possible attack halted long before it had begun. He wasn't even frightened by the malice in the blue eyes.
"You can't do anything, can you?" Collin stated, his exterior calm over raging injustice. "You're too much a coward. Even though it's ridiculous, you think that any fight you start, I'll win. You're afraid."
Cloud's fists tightened as he trembled in rage; he made no move. And a strange feeling came over Collin. He didn't notice that everyone was in the house was now present, drawn by the earlier commotion. His focus narrowed to encompass only the man that stood before him. A mocking chuckled sounded from his throat. "You're such a fool. How can you be frightened by a boy—your own son?" His voice dropped. "You can't just jerk me around like a damn puppet—treating me like your son one moment and abandoning me the next. Sooner or later you're going to have to deal with me, whether you like it or not."
A tense showdown ensued. Neither could back down, locked in stubbornness, but it was obvious that the control was all Collin's. After a minute of silence the boy turned and exited the room in moderate strides. His back was open to any attack from Cloud for several moments before he disappeared up the stairs to his room. It wasn't that he trusted Cloud—he simply knew that Cloud was too cowardly to dare.
Cid released a heavy breath as Collin ascended the stairs to the second story. "Christ, what a mess," he muttered, running his hand through his hair. He turned to Cloud. "Well, Strife?"
Cloud didn't hear. He was staring at the stairs, where his son had been a moment before. His fists relaxed, as did his posture. The anger was shed, leaving only silent, reasonable acceptance.
There is no other way.
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