Chapter 12: Different





Adam sat atop a chair, his legs crossed on top of the seat, staring out at a bleak grey Junon through eyes that no longer saw any colour. He was wide awake and his skin was cold as he sat there for hours, almost statuesque. His face chizzled in unbreakable stone, he watched the world blankly yet sadly, looking out to the ocean but never seeing any of it.

Across the room sitting on the floor in the opposite corner was his only company: a frighteningly loyal silver-haired monster who had never left his side in the past weeks. Every second of everyday the beast was inside his head, telling him secrets about the people that passed and offering fractured truths. Adam knew he'd never be alone as long as it was alive. It was oddly comforting.

"I know what you must think of me." the beast called after the man. "You think that I'm trying to trick you, that I'm trying to pull your strings." He sneered. "You'd be right."

Adam didn't move a muscle or make a sound, only stared out his window.

"But I know you could care less about me. "the beast sighed, planting his chin on his fist. "Isn't that right, Adam? She's the only one you really care about, all you've ever really cared about."

Adam still did nothing.

"But something's changed." He continued, fiendishly amused. "Something's different. Something's broken, and she hates you for it. You know it, but you don't seem to be able fix it for her. That must be infuriating."

Nothing.

The beast snickered and stood to it's feet, pacing the room. "So what now, then?" He asked, mockingly bemused. "There's something about you that needs repair. It's a gaping dark hole, and she can't stand it. No matter how hard you try though, this is simply one of those things that will not go away, regardless of how big a band-aid you use to patch it up. You've realized that now, so how do you make her take you back anyway?"

Still not even the slightest acknowledgment as the beast stopped and laughed.

"Oh, but that's not what you want, is it?" It chuckled. "Because there's no point in making her love you, is there? You may be strong enough to take her by force, but what's the use if she won't let you with open arms? It's not fulfilling if it's not real, and it's not real if you force yourself upon her. She has to want you, right? Otherwise it's not love. You may as well be raping her, if that's the case."

Still nothing at all as the beast tore at wounds for it's own amusement.

"So what will it be?" It pondered mockingly. "She hates you, and you're only getting worse. She wants you gone, because she'd rather things stay the same. She doesn't want the dream your reaching so futilely for. So your dream is gone."

Adam bowed his head and pulled a hand through his messy hair, looking away in frustration from the empty greyness.

"What's the use of living if it's in spite of her?" It contemplated. "If the only way for you to exist is as the thing she hates, what do you do? What can you do?"

Adam stood to his feet, his hands balled into fists as he paced back and forth for a second, staring at the floor.

"She was supposed to be your salvation, but she's not offering any." It went on solemnly. "That's why you stay here in this room ignoring me, isn't it? You're not even trying to think of how to fix this anymore, because now you know." It flashed a content little sneer. "You know now that you're everything I've told you you are. If your own angel looks upon you with nothing but fear and hate in her eyes, what else could you possibly be but a monster? Because, to you, her's is the only truth. You've made her out to be the only right, and if it's her beauty, her purity that you trust, than you must be exactly what I say you are. If she sees you as Adam, than Adam is who you must be." It stopped for a second, watching the monster quake. "You must despise your very own being... seeking to eradicate it from existence. But you can't, because you simply won't allow yourself to let her go, despite how much she struggles to get away from you. So you're stuck here in a limbo, despising existence but desperately grasping it to you because she's part of it. Truly, you don't want to die, because you still love her too much to part. But that's all that there's left to do."

Adam stood there for a long moment, soundless.

"Death is you're only salvation." The beast told him factually. "You can stay here and wallow, fighting it, but in reality the only choice left to make is to give in. To stop existing." It paused. "Perhaps you'll be able to take some small consolation in the fact that it's exactly what she wants."

Without a word, Adam left his room for the first time in days, stalking the streets as an unnoticed ghost, searching for something unseen, for anything to give him direction...



***

A young blonde haired boy lay in a bright white hospital bed. Equally white bandages covered his mid-section and the left side of his chest, from which dark red blotches seeped out. Around his damaged eyes were the thickest of the bandages, blinding him of his surroundings. In his naivety, the boy feared he had lost his sight, but even without knowing for sure he had moved passed the thought. He sat there in the darkness for weeks, hearing doctors and nurses murmur nervously as they stuck sharp painful objects in his veins, never telling him why.

In this place, he heard voices everyday; voices that talked about him and at him but never to him. They thought he couldn't hear them. They were wrong. He heard every word in ear-splitting clarity, whether they whispered or yelled. He just didn't bother answering them. What was the point? At least this way they would leave him alone to sort through the real and the fake.

He heard one of the voices. It didn't say much, but it was usually around. It was never excited or happy; always frightfully calm. But it was different today. It was very upset; he could hear it pacing across the room.

"For God's sake Professor," It muttered, as if it were wary that the boy was listening. "He's just a kid! Haven't you done enough? Let the boy see his family..."

Professor. That was the name of another voice. This voice the boy hated the most. It was usually calm and polite enough when there were others around, but when they were gone, it muttered the strangest, most disgusting things at the boy, and stuck him with by far the most painful objects. The boy learned a long time ago not to scream. It only made him push harder.

"I'm sorry Colonel, but that's not possible." The Professor retaliated in that insincere subdued manner. "Zackary here needs to stay for more experimentation. He's not nearly ready to be released; his poisoning might be contagious for all we know."

"Professor, you shouldn't continue on with this." The Colonel said righteously. "You're keeping this boy against his will from his family! They've already lost a daughter in that explosion, I'm not going to let you take away a son too."

"It's for his own benefit." The professor retaliated, irritated with the Colonel. "We have the best medical facilities in the world here in Midgar. If we were to transfer him to some pathetic rural hospital around his home, he'd be dead within the hour of his arrival."

"Cut the crap, Professor." The Colonel snickered back. "You mean to tell me you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?! Whatever it is your hiding, stop. What could possibly be so interesting about some twelve year-old hick from Gogonga?!"

"His tolerance to mako is the highest I've ever seen." The professor sighed passively. "Higher than yours even."

"How much higher?" The Colonel asked, back to his usual business-like voice.

"Much higher." The Professor answered factually. "That blast would have vaporized the average man. This boy was at the core of it, and here he is alive."

"Hmm." The Colonel murmured. "And you're trying to figure out why that is..."

"However it is he survived," The Professor continued. "It sure as hell wasn't natural. If we could repeat whatever it is that gave him this amount of adaptability..."

"...We just might have a new generation of SOLDIER on our hands." The Colonel muttered, and then took a long pause. "As soon as you're done, I want him under my supervision."

"Why?" The Professor asked inquisitively.

"If he's the first in the line of a brand-new SOLDIER," The Colonel explained "Then I don't want some second-class Sergeants burying his potential in useless grunt training. It'd be best to get him right on the SOLDIER program as fast as we can."

And without another word the colonel left the room, leaving the boy in the clutches of the mad scientist yet again. The boy wasn't surprised that the colonel didn't help him. Sometimes, he seemed like a hero, but when it came down to business concerning SOLDIER's advancement, he could care less about morals and standards. Right and wrong suddenly became nothing more than words, the ideas behind them irrelevant.

So yet again the boy was left alone with the Professor, silently awaiting whatever probes he had in store. The boy had adapted in more ways than one.

"Now," The Professor began anew with what the boy imagined was a very sinister smile. "Let's open you up and see what makes you tick..."

The boy knew he'd never be able to find it.



***



Cloud sat in his room, tending to assorted cuts, bruises and other various injuries as he stared out at the vibrant and bright beaches of Costa Del Sol through his window. His pride hurt and his heart heavy, his brand new sword caught his attention. 'The Hardedge' as it was called was seemingly superior to the Buster Sword in every aspect. It was a stubby dark blade, but it was lighter and packed more of a punch than the Buster Sword ever could, but even then it could never be a suitable replacement. He had grown up with the Buster Sword, gone through SOLDIER with it in his hand and knocked over every obstacle. Now, he had lost it, and along with it what he felt was part of him.

A knock at the door shook him from his trance. He turned his head and saw the flower girl, standing in the hall with a concerned smile on her face. When times were rough, it was almost always her job to raise spirits. Most of the time, she succeeded, but when she didn't, Tifa had always been there to...

"Everybody's starting to improve." She informed him rather quietly. "Yuffie's still can't walk well on her own, and Red's still pretty bad, but Barret's great...at least physically." She paused for a moment and watched the depressed Cloud, who didn't react or move to the news. "I know we lost a lot that day," She continued none the less. "But we have to keep going. We can't let one bad battle stop us. What would she think of us?"

Cloud stood up, and paced back and forth for a moment, staring at his feet. In a rage he punched the wall. "We went in there expecting to fight Sephiroth," He muttered bitterly as he stared at the hole in the plaster. "instead we found some wannabe lackey. But still, we lost her..." He paused, and swallowed hard before turning to face Aeris. "How the hell are we supposed to stop Sephiroth when some imitation could do this to us? How can we stand up against the real thing when we were lucky to escape with our lives from a forgery?"

Of course, there was no answer Aeris could give him. In a huff, Cloud sat down on his bed, frustrated and grief-stricken as he held his head in his hands.

"Tifa...Tifa was one of the few people in this world that I really knew." Cloud continued. "She was real. She knew me better than I know myself, and I trusted her more than anyone. I felt... I felt like she was something that I could always fall back on. When things got insane, I figured I'd be able to rely on her to bring me back down to earth. She can't be gone..."

"I looked hard, Cloud." Aeris assured him, gently rubbing his shoulder. "There was nothing but blackness after the explosion. Her heart... her existence was gone."

"Fuck!" Cloud screamed, throwing another fit as he shot to his feet. "How could I let this happen?! I should have been able to stop him; I shouldn't have let him beat me! He was nobody and I just let him walk all over me. How the hell can I do this without her..."

"I know it's hard," Aeris said slowly, nearly floating to her feet as she put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But we have to keep going, for everyone's sake. Sephiroth's planning something awful, and we're the ones who have to stop him, no matter what it takes. We both know that he has to be stopped. We're the ones who have to fix everything. She'd of wanted it that way..."

"I just can't believe she's gone." He hushed. "I can't believe I've lost her again. Maybe she got away okay?" Cloud turned to her desperately, but she had no answer. "Sorry..." He muttered as he turned his attention back to the floor.

"In times like these," Aeris whispered soothingly "Terrible things happen to the best of people, but they have to happen, no matter how badly we may not want them to. We couldn't expect all of us to get through this in the end. Tifa knew it better than anyone, and I'm sure she would want us to keep going with or without her." Aeris paused, watching the SOLDIER shake. "I'm very sorry Cloud."

"Aeris," Cloud inquired, his voice suddenly calm and almost paranoid as he turned to face her. "Who was that guy?"

"Huh?"

"He didn't care about any of us." Cloud continued as he stood to his feet, dissecting the event in his head. "He'd of slaughtered us in a second if he thought that's what you wanted. But he knew you were with us so he only did what he had to to get us out of the way. The whole time, all's he wanted was to talk to you, but we wouldn't let him because he scared you. He called you Rissy..." Cloud paused and gazed at Aeris as he unraveled the mystery. "Aeris...how did he know you?" Her eyes shot to the floor as she shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Who the hell was that?"

"I don't know." She quickly answered, obviously insincere.

"Aeris, we need to know who this guy is." Cloud persisted as he returned to his seat beside her. "We need to know what were facing if we ever expect to stand up against him. So who is he?" He paused, watching her as she wriggled uneasily, her eyes on her feet. "What did he do to you?"

"I don 't know him..." She insisted quietly. "It can't be him..."

"Who?" Cloud asked carefully.

"It's just..." She began painfully "He acted and talked just like him...but he was just too different. Everything about him was black, but he still just kept trying to be him, even though he wasn't...even though he couldn't be. He wanted to be him so badly..."

"Who?" Cloud urged, none the less patient.

"...But you're him." She said uncertainly, seemingly trying to discern her scattered thoughts and force them into words. "Down to the slightest detail. Everything about him that was good is in you. But you're not even trying, and he hated that, because he was working so hard just to not let it all slip away..." She paused and swallowed hard. "Seeing you fight him made me remember more about him...made me see that you we're both unique...both different from him. You tried to fight like him, but for whatever reason you couldn't be him then...but you did have the attitude, the confidence. He had everything else...but he was too angry, too worried, too scared."

"What could he possibly be scared of?"

"He was scared of you." She told him slowly. "He wasn't afraid of what you could do...just scared of what you were; what you represented. He saw you, and he feared that he really had lost it all..."

Cloud watched her for the longest time as she stared blankly at the floor. "What's his name?"

"I don't know." She said plainly with a simple shake of her head. "I had never met him."