Hi, hi, everybody!
Lookie! Two updates in as many weekends! Bet you never thought you'd see the day. Just don't get used to it, eh?
All right, more emotional torture ahead! Experimentation, torture, solitary confinement, and hallucination abound. A couple coarse words, but I'm sure you guys can handle it.
Enjoy!
*
"—oud. Cloud! C'mon, man, let me know you're okay."
Cloud felt fuzzy awareness sift into his dark consciousness. He could hear the voice, tell roughly what direction it was coming from, but it took several long moments more before he was awake enough to actually recognize it. He tried to turn his head and open his eyes, but his body was numb and his eyelids extremely heavy. He had to wait a bit longer before he could muster his voice.
"z-ack? what's goin' on? why can't I move?"
He heard Zack hiccup softly as an after effect of tears. "Oh, thank Holy! You're alive! I thought for sure you'd died; when they dragged us out of the reactor, you were so still, then when they threw us in here, you just didn't move! I was expecting you to wake up a loooong time ago, 'cause they brought a Restore Materia through and healed up anything life-threatening on the both of us, but you didn't do anything, until just now, that is, and—"
Cloud cut him off, his voice stronger, now. "Zack. C'mon, man, you're babbling. And you haven't told me why I can't seem to get up, here."
Zack was silent for several long moments. "They, um, said something about a spinal cord injury? I guess you can't feel what I'm doing?"
Cloud managed to make his eyes crack open. "Doing? You're doing something?"
Zack sighed. "Shit. Planet-damned bloody fuck. Yeah, I'm kinda trying to bandage you up the best I can, since it looks like they're not interested in doing anything more than keeping us alive, for now. I've been resetting bones and slapping dressings over great, gaping wounds for a while, now."
Cloud groaned, fear and dismay knotting his belly. "Shit. Planet-damned bloody…"
Zack chuckled without humor. "I knew you'd see things my way."
They were silent for several minutes, with only the sound of cloth tearing as Zack cannibalized their clothes to make bandages. Cloud honestly couldn't feel whatever Zack was doing, and a part of him thought that was for the best; the other part was screaming that, as he was, he'd never be able to escape. Certainly, Zack wouldn't leave him either.
"Shit. Planet-damned bloody…"
*
As it turned out, Cloud didn't have to worry about his paralysis long. Once they arrived at the lab proper and Hojo discovered that Cloud couldn't feel much of anything from just above his navel down—to say nothing of actually moving—steps were taken to fix that. After all, Hojo wanted a feeling, writhing, screaming test subject, not a man who wouldn't feel anything done to him.
It really didn't take much. An injection of what Cloud recognized as Factor J directly into his spine plus a few minutes of Mako irradiation, and Cloud could already feel a vague pin-and-needles sensation crawling through the upper parts of his 'dead zone.' A few minutes after that, he was gritting his teeth against the pain coursing along his nerves. Thankfully, he blacked out before he could start screaming.
When he awoke, he could feel mostly normally. It was a little over-sharp, as though the sensitivity of his nerve endings had been ratcheted up too high, but that wasn't really disruptive to him. What was, however, was the fact that he was suddenly hearing voices. Nothing definite or concrete, just vague murmurings in the back of his mind. It was sort of like how he'd 'heard' Sephiroth in Nibelheim…or Jenova. Not all of them sounded evil or insane, though; on the contrary, most of them sounded very normal and reasonable. They were probably the most dangerous, though, just to spite him, so Cloud worked at ignoring them for long hours taking breaks only to reassure Zack that he was okay.
Then he heard the doors open, and looked up from within his little see-though cell. Hojo came in, his little soldiers slinking in after him. In the cell next to him, Zack growled quietly, and Cloud added his voice to Zack's.
Hojo clucked at them, seemingly amused. "Tsk, tsk. Now, is that any way to react to the man in whose hands your continued existence rests? Silly things." He turned to Cloud. "And how are you feeling, Specimen C? You're moving on your own, so I'll assume that in that respect the procedure was a success. Any after effects? Blindspots, pins and needles, numbness, nausea?"
Was Hojo asking about the voices? Cloud glared, but remained silent. Hojo chuckled. "My, my. So uncooperative. We'll cure you of that soon enough. Rather disappointing, though. Oh, well; better luck next time, I suppose." He suddenly looked carefully at Cloud.
"Hmm, as I recall, you have some experience in the Mako Sciences. Perhaps you will be able to appreciate what I'm trying to do. Do you know what was in that needle I gave you?" Cloud stayed quiet again, but couldn't quite help rolling his eyes. Hojo chuckled again. "Ah, you do, I see. Rather an intelligent specimen, aren't you? Factor J. Wonderful stuff. What it really is, though, is Jenova cells. That's right, the same Jenova as Sephiroth's 'mother,' the beautiful creature you defiled so up in that backwater reactor. You know, we use those same cells to make SOLDIERs? Admittedly, we kill the cells first—a shame really, but the average SOLDIER can't take live Jenova cells and remain sane. Besides, the dead ones are more than enough to raise SOLDIERs above the level of mere humans. Not like Sephiroth." Hojo looked almost dreamy at the mention of Sephiroth, and Cloud had to suppress a shudder.
"Ah, yes, my Sephiroth. My most successful project. He is full of living Jenova cells. Brimming with their power. So far beyond the power of frail humanity." Hojo returned his focus to Cloud. "Like you, now. More or less. Of course, the cells in you are brand new, just settling into your body, and there are nowhere near as many in you as there are in my Sephiroth. That, too, we'll fix. Ah, but they seem to be having a hard time settling in you, since you already had Mako in your system, sustaining your body cells, but soon enough they'll take that energy for themselves and overcome your weak little immune system. Then it'll be easy enough to wipe you clean and remold you in Sephiroth's image."
Hojo frowned suddenly, as though confused. "Ah, but why was I here? Surely not to tell you what was happening to you? Not my normal policy, but I imagine the process will be all the more horrifying for someone with your knowledge if you know what I'm doing to you. Hmmm." Suddenly, the obviously both scatterbrained and insane doctor smiled. "Ah, yes, I remember. I was going to test exactly how well your nerves are conducting. Oh, and I was going to test Specimen Z's…well, everything. This ought to be an enlightening day. I may even determine why Sephiroth deigns to waste his time on Specimen Z." He looked at Cloud. "Did you know they had sex? I suppose even my Sephiroth is not above animal impulses. How revolting, though."
Hojo waved at the guards, and one of them turned on a valve that began pumping vaguely pinkish gas into Zack's chamber. Alarmed, Cloud shot to his feet. "Zack!"
Zack coughed, struggling against what was obviously a powerful sedative. He fixed Cloud with a look, telling him without words not to do anything stupid. Of course, the effect was dulled somewhat by the fact that Zack passed out right in the middle of everything. Helpless, Cloud could only watch as they dragged Zack's limp form out of the cell. They didn't take him far, only to a table in the middle of the room. He was stripped quickly and strapped to the table.
God, were they going to make him watch?
Apparently, so. They shocked Zack to awareness with a little electrical prod, and the dark-haired SOLDIER came out of his daze with a roar, already trying to fight. Hojo just smiled indulgently and took out a set of electrodes. "Please be still, Specimen Z. I am going to use you as a baseline for Specimen C, so I need to check your nerves. It is to both of your advantage if you scream quickly."
Cloud sank down in his cell as the tests began. He could already hear Zack's breathing growing labored. His hand snaked up to the chain on which his engagement ring was suspended without really thinking about it. As the screams finally began, Cloud prayed that, wherever Sephiroth wound up, he never found out about this. He would hold himself responsible, and the thought that Sephiroth might suffer because of this, too, was simply too much for Cloud to deal with. He knew he was already deluding himself, distancing himself from reality, but he knew he'd need all the distance he could muster just to get through this as sane as Hojo was.
Cloud prayed harder.
*
(Some time later.)
Cloud leaned a feverish cheek against the chill wall of his transparent cell. Zack watched him anxiously. Ever since that first round of tests, Cloud had grown increasingly out of it. By now, he barely reacted to anything, even when Hojo went to great lengths to draw screams from him. They'd also been denied any sort of clothes once they'd been stripped the first time. Their heads had been shaved, their every bodily function was recorded and measured by a set of sub-dermal implants that had been placed in them in the most excruciating way Hojo's twisted mind could think up. They were dehumanized ruthlessly, called only 'Specimens C and Z,' and subjected to painful tests at every opportunity.
Zack felt horribly guilty. He underwent few of the tests, experiments, and procedures Cloud had to suffer through. Oh, Hojo had him dragged out of his cell just as often and spent the whole time using him to devise new ways to torture any poor soul who happened to be at his mercy, but he wasn't actually doing anything to him.
Cloud, on the other hand, was being changed. All it took was a cursory inspection to see how much the blond had changed since they'd gotten here, what had to have been several months ago, or more. Cloud certainly looked strange with shaven hair and an inch's growth of shocking gold beard, but it went beyond that. His eyes were very bright now, but empty of feeling much of the time, though still filled with frightening intelligence. He had gained at least another inch or two, and his already toned body had only grown more defined, and, as the guards had found out, he was now capable of bending solid steel. They had to keep him half-sedated at all times just to keep him from being able to walk right out of this hellhole. As a result, he spent much of his time either sleeping, or half-conscious.
When Cloud was awake, Zack whittled away the dreary hours waiting for the next round of tests to begin by telling stories. He knew Cloud heard and catalogued every detail, because he occasionally scraped up the energy and vocal control to ask questions. It relieved Zack immensely to know his friend was still in there, even if his body tried to convince him it was devoid of an awareness.
Zack was, however, growing steadily more worried for Cloud. There was no way to tell the time, here; only the dim lighting of most times, and the painful brilliance of the halogens Hojo used when he was doing a procedure. Meals came at noticeably irregular intervals, but no matter how unappetizing the fare or how recently they'd last been fed, they learned to eat when the opportunity was presented. Despite these great lengths Hojo went to in order to deny them any sense of time, Zack knew it had been a substantial while, maybe even months since they had entered Hojo's 'care.' Yet, Cloud had not spoken of Sephiroth the whole time.
Zack knew a little bit about grieving. He'd lost many friends in the Wutai War, even a couple in the more recent Uprising. He knew denial was a natural stage for when someone suffered a great loss, but eventually he'd want to talk about it or do something about it, anything to work through things in his head. Everyone he'd ever met had been the same, including Sephiroth.
Cloud never talked about Sephiroth. He never even said his name, except in his sleep, and even that was rare. He never told Zack to stop telling him stories about Seph, or trying to drag him into mutual reminiscence—as though he could not bring himself to simply deny Sephiroth's existence—but he also never participated. He always seemed so far away, though whether that was mostly the drugs, or whether something was really wrong with Cloud, Zack couldn't be sure. But he was sure that a man didn't just 'get over' killing the love of his life.
Recently, Cloud had started crooning to himself, a strange ululating sound that made Zack's hair stand on end. There were no words, merely a sound that was painfully inhuman, sometimes happy, sometimes in pain, but always, always laced with a sort of deep melancholy, as of something very old resigned to a sad fate. That worried Zack far more than anything else. Pain, sorrow, rage he could deal with, but if Cloud had in any way given up…
"Sephiroth…"
Zack's head jerked up to stare at Cloud, wishing fleetingly, as he did every time, that he could go and hold his sick friend, comfort him some way. Now he couldn't even brush Cloud's grimy cheek and tell him it was going to be okay, mainly because it was probably never going to be okay for Cloud again.
Zack contented himself with calling softly through their cells, "Hey, there, Spike? You wanna tell me what's goin' on over there?"
Cloud looked up at him, seeming a little lost. "Zack?" He shook his head, bringing one hand up to rub absently over the short fuzz of his re-growing hair. "I…sorry. It's nothing, Zack. Really."
Zack frowned. "Cloud, do you realize that the whole time we've been here, you haven't said Sephiroth's name aloud while conscious even once? It's more than nothing if you're breaking that kind of silence."
Cloud scrubbed a hand over his head again. It seemed to be turning into his new nervous gesture. He seemed troubled, though, so Zack didn't allow it to distract him. "I just. Zack, I know he's dead. I killed him myself, threw him into the Mako reservoir with my own hands, to be burned away to nothing. And yet," Cloud's eyes were focused on something far away, and Zack couldn't suppress the chill that trailed cold fingers down his spine at the utter look of emptiness in Cloud's face.
"Zack, I can hear him. Up here." Cloud tapped a finger to his temple. "I hear him, and he tells me it's okay, that he's fine where he is, and I don't have to worry. There are others, too. Like Jenova, but I ignore her. But Sephiroth…Holy, he's dead! How can he do this to me when he's dead?! No more, deceased, dissolved back into the Lifestream, lacking a corporeal form! Planet. Planet."
Zack sighed. "Cloud. He is dead. Maybe you're going nuts here. Maybe he's a ghost and he just wants you to know he's okay, so he can move on. I don't know, I'm not an expert in supernatural phenomena. But you know Hojo will be interested, so you have to promise me you won't say anything to him about this, okay?"
Cloud nodded weakly, then quirked a little grin. "As if I'd tell old stick-bug anything, anyway."
Zack chuckled. "Yeah. Where's some bug-spray when you really need it? I'd much prefer to face him with a can of Bug-be-gone in each hand, you know?"
Cloud smiled, then leaned back against his cool cell wall to soothe his fevered body. The fever was low-grade, but had persisted from the first injection of Factor J, and Cloud was getting royally sick of feeling ill.
"Hey, Zack?" He whispered, relaxing into the heaviness the drugs he was on leant him. When the dark-haired man looked up, he continued. "Sing me something?"
Zack blinked, then blushed. "Cloud, you know I can't sing."
Cloud smiled lazily. "Please. I heard you just the other day, singing to yourself to keep entertained. And even if I hadn't discovered you have a nice singing voice, I just want your voice. But I'm tired of the stories, for now. I don't want to think of happy times. Life sucks right now, and I just want to deal with here and now for a while. Remembering before sometimes just make it so hard to live with how things are."
Zack gazed at his friend for a long moment, wracking his brain for a way to dodge his request, but he found that, as usual, he couldn't deny Cloud anything. He pondered for a moment, trying to think up a suitable song. Not too happy, not too reflective, but not despairing, either.
/Shit. All I know are either love songs or nice, angry, painful songs. C'mon, Zack, you have to know something that'll fit the bill!/
"Zack, you can sing me something depressing, you know. I won't die. I can hardly commit suicide here."
Zack sighed, then shrugged. /What the hell./ Zack started a soft rendition of Soldier's Lament, a song about a soldier near the end of his life, destined to live again. Cloud seemed to fall asleep part way through, but Zack didn't stop. His mind was on the singing, distracting him neatly from reality.
He sang until he felt like sleeping. Then he slept, the chorus still echoing in his mind, and perhaps through the too-sterile emptiness of the lab.
He dreamed he was standing with Sephiroth beside a river. Seph had already started across, and turned back to face him. "Come on, Zack. Can't wait forever. Sunset's in a few, and you have to see this place then. We'll stay there until dawn. You mustn't look on the river when the moon is up; it's for the dead only."
Zack dreamed a peaceful dream of standing atop a sheer cliff with Sephiroth, watching the Mako-green and -blue glow flickering around a snow-covered crater, it's sloped dyed red with the colors of dusk, until the sun dropped from the sky.
At 'sun-up,' Sephiroth left him with a smile.
"Take care of him, Zack. Tell him it'll be okay, even if you aren't sure yourself. It will be, in the end. I know it."
Zack awoke to Cloud screaming through more tests, but the dream lingered in his mind. If he ever got out of this place, he thought he'd try to paint that place at the end of the world, where time had no meaning beyond the colors the world painted herself with. Maybe it would fit to music…?
When the guards came for him, Zack just smiled at Cloud as he was replaced in his cell, and let the sleeping gas take him back to his sleeping refuge.
*
(Still more time later.)
Cloud felt better, and that was a bad thing. He knew his body hadn't won over the Jenova cells from the pleased expression stamped on Hojo's twisted features, as well as from the sudden loudness and clarity of the voices in his mind. He tried to ignore them, and for the most part was successful. However, whenever Jenova really wanted to say something to him, she could shout above all the others and right past the walls of mental static he'd erected to protect himself. He made no sign to her that he heard and knew she was becoming frustrated, but he knew it couldn't last. Eventually, she'd find out, and no amount of ignoring in the world would keep her out.
Fortunately for Cloud's sanity, the endless Mako and Jenova treatments he'd been subjected to had produced a side-benefit. Jenova had many of the talents of the Ancients of old, and Sephiroth had, in effect, been an artificial Ancient. In trying to make Cloud into another Sephiroth, Hojo had given some of those powers to Cloud. Especially the whole 'talking to the Planet' routine.
Cloud doubted he was actually talking to the Planet; the scientist in him steadfastly refused to believe such a preposterous thing without a great deal of extremely convincing evidence. And as far as he knew, he was either only on passive listening mode, or was too minuscule for the Planet to notice if he was saying anything. But the soft sounds of the Planet murmuring beyond the ability of anyone else to sense were comforting. They were so much more than he was, it made him feel much safer.
Now, seeking to escape the realities of his long imprisonment, Cloud fell back on his new senses. He let the sad notes he'd been humming for some time now fill his mind and carry him away from his fragile body. As usual, there were two presences he was drawn to.
Cloud let his mind linger over Zack's awareness. Zack was a bit wasted with lack of exercise, but his desire to escape was as strong as ever. In fact, only recently, they had made an escape attempt, leaving a few dead guards and plenty of broken machinery behind them. They had been so close to being out, Cloud could taste sweet freedom on the wind, but they'd been jumped by guards and robots at the last minute that they were no match for as weak as they were. They'd still fought well, and taken many of the guards with them to hell—though the guards were lucky enough to go to the real thing—and so much of Hojo's equipment had been broken that he'd had to relocate them to a totally different lab.
It was strange to see the inside of the library under the Mansion in Nibelheim every time he looked out of his cell, but he figured that was the effect Hojo was going for. Unfortunately, Hojo had decided that they weren't going to get the chance to plan such an escape again. The cells were soundproof, and both of them were constantly surrounded by a dense mist of burning Mako tranquilizers. Still sign-language and messages scraped on any surface possible allowed them to plan, despite him. It just made sanity just that much harder to hang on to. Cloud had taken to looking at the titles of the books around him and speculating on what was in them. If it was something technical, he usually made up a story about it anyway, just to keep himself busy and something closer to sane than he might have been.
Cloud was aware of himself growing steadily more withdrawn in reaction to the lack of contact. He hadn't been touched by another person for any reason other than to inflict pain since the escape attempt; before that, it had been since a stolen touch during what had to have been the first week of imprisonment. By the time he got out of here, he'd be a real ass; his social skills had been a bit awkward from the beginning—probably came of being despised by most of your hometown's population; he was amazed by how much he had relaxed around Zack and Sephiroth—now he'd just be a sociopath.
Cloud gave Zack's mind a light, fond caress, then moved on to the second person in this 'place.'
Cloud sank into Sephiroth's awareness gratefully. Cloud imagined he had to have one foot in the grave, or at least around the bend, in order to think he could sense a dead man, but he could, and it made him so happy. Jenova's 'voice' was always knife-sharp in his mind, and Zack didn't have a voice like with words, only the tones, like speaking a foreign language where all you knew was the feeling behind the words. Sephiroth was like neither of them, though. Actual words came to Cloud from him, but not screaming in and tearing at him. He seemed so normal, at least as normal as any dead SOLDIER General who happened to be his lover could seem.
Sometimes, Cloud could swear he could reach out a hand and muss that gorgeous silver hair, trace soft lips and high cheek-bones, stroke well-loved leather. Then the scar in his abdomen where Masamune had torn into him would twinge, and Cloud would know it for the daydream it was. Cloud found it odd Masamune had scarred in the first place; the wounds it left were so neat, they should only leave a hairline scar, not the horrible, though fading, gash Cloud bore. He thought maybe Jenova or Hojo had seen to it that Cloud would have a permanent reminder, and no escape into fantasy.
Bastards.
"Seph," he whispered. It was strange that he always whispered to Sephiroth and clung to his awareness. It was as though all the strength had been leeched from him. That was fine, though. No strength could get them out of here now; why worry about it? It wasn't worth the effort. If he was given the opportunity to escape, he'd take it, but it was rather hard to muster the will-power to make an opportunity, except immediately after Hojo was done with him and he was angry. And that was when his body wouldn't work, so all the anger in the world wouldn't help him any.
"Cloud," Sephiroth's ghostly whisper came back to him. "You know better than to simply give up. You live, so there is hope. Don't let go."
Cloud laughed bitterly to himself. "I live? I don't feel like it. I feel like that monster that turned to goo in front of us—I exist, but to leave would mean death."
"But the monster still attempted to escape."
"Maybe I should, too? Just let this all end. No Hojo poking and prodding all the time, no Jenova whispering evil promises, no Zack and his hurting eyes. It would almost be nice."
Sephiroth's voice came clearly to him. "No, Cloud! Don't give up! I'm here for you, so it's okay."
Cloud cackled, knowing he sounded insane, but the soundproofing on the cell should take care of that. "You're here for me? You're dead, Seph, and I'm all alone here. Zack is like a picture—I see it, but I can't feel it, talk to it. What am I going to do? Tell the guards 'Hey, guys, I think I'm finally going crazy like you want me to. Now could you talk to me for a little to make it stop? I'm hearing voices, and I don't think that's normal.' Yeah, right. I can see Hojo's twisted little bug-face all delighted right now…"
To Cloud's horror, he really could.
Hojo stood outside the cell, gleefully taking notes, and motioning the guards to come and subdue him. Potent but short-duration paralysis gas filtered into the tank, causing Cloud to lose control of his every muscle. He couldn't so much as lift his head and glare at the guards as they manhandled him out of the cell to dump him on the table, again. The heavy adamant restraints were fastened in place, then Hojo was suddenly standing over him, clucking and chattering excitedly.
"—C to have made contact with Jenova! Finally, after months of work, the cells have reached out and made contact with their host, and he's answering. I believe Jenova has taken on the persona of my Sephiroth to earn Specimen C's trust. That's perfect, because if he can assimilate enough of the Sephiroth persona through Jenova, I won't have to keep Specimen Z around to do it. I knew introducing bits of Sephiroth's DNA with the Jenova cells was a good idea! Even Specimen C knows Factor J's power as a vector.
"Now that C has contacted Jenova, I believe it is time to wipe the old personality away. Once the slate is cleaned, it will be easy enough to put in place a more proper identity. Depending on how this goes, I may make some cosmetic alterations to make C appear like my Sephiroth and reintroduce him to the Shinra as Sephiroth. If all goes well, I may even be able to dispose of the other attempts. I'll keep them for now, though, in case C disappoints me yet again, or simply takes too long."
Cloud felt remarkably calm, now. Sephiroth wasn't Sephiroth, he was just an identity Jenova wore to fool him. And he'd fallen for it. For a moment, he was angry, then his rage fizzled out into despair. It was all over. If even Sephiroth was a lie, what did that leave him? The cries of the ailing Planet and Zack fighting despair, and that couldn't possibly be enough to keep him grounded through whatever Hojo was planning.
Desperation overtook him for a moment, and he struggled against his bonds, his muscle control returning slowly. He was unable to get the traction or leverage he wanted, but able to get enough to jerk one arm free of its restraints, tearing a large chunk of the flesh from his hand and dislocating several bones. Despite the pain and oblivious to Hojo's half-terrified, half-enraged shrieking, he reached out with that hand to snag one of the guards…
…The one he had noticed wore a watch, though it seemed to be against regulations to do so. He tore the band off the terrified man, gashing his wrist open in the process. Cloud ignored the spatter of blood the panicked thug rained on him, having eyes only for the corner of the display that had the date. His eyes went wide.
/By the Planet, it's already been two years?/ Cloud felt perversely proud. It had taken two years for Hojo to break his sanity. How frustrating that had to have been for a mediocre scientist in the Mako age, when genetic experiments usually took only a fraction of the time they used to. Hojo obviously didn't have the patience to wait for his payoff; he wanted results now.
The guards whom Cloud hadn't bothered to incapacitate grabbed him roughly, beating his unresisting body back to the table. They forced his shredded arm back into the restraints, but Cloud hardly noticed. He clutched the watch in his fist and laughed, long and loud, until tears trailed down his cheeks and his body convulsed with desperation for air.
As quickly as he'd begun laughing, he stopped. He stared fixedly at Hojo, using his newly bright Mako eyes to unnerve the scientist. The faint glow he'd had before had gone halogen-bright over the past—Holy—two years. Now he used them as his only weapon against Hojo, staring levelly at him, oblivious to the fists that continued to fall on him and the cursing of Hojo's pet thugs. They both knew Cloud couldn't really do much of anything to Hojo as long as he was a prisoner, but Cloud also knew that Hojo had brains enough to fear what he was creating here, and Cloud took advantage of that glimmer of intelligence. If he unnerved Hojo enough, maybe he would spend a majority of the time to come unconscious.
In some ways, he and Zack were so very much alike. Both desired escape. The difference was that Zack wanted to get out of here, a currently unattainable dream. On the other hand, Cloud took the escape he could have at any time, into sleep, into dreams, into fantasy, where no one could hurt him. In that way, they were fundamentally different. Cloud no longer cared about that seed of cowardice that persisted in his core. All he wanted was to stop caring. He was broken now and he knew it; Zack was broken, too, but spent his time futilely try to put the pieces back together again.
Who was more pathetic: the man who was honest with himself and lost hope, or the man who lied to himself to keep it? Cloud had no answer to that. He could only be who and what he was. Right now, he had nothing else left; even the dreams of Sephiroth had been dirtied by Jenova's vile touch.
He was relieved when a mask was pressed over his face, pumping him full of sedatives. He maintained his level glare at Hojo, though, right into unconsciousness. That 'night' he slept with his eyes open and refused to acknowledge the dreams when they came. He thought he heard Sephiroth somewhere crying his name…
*
All right, there it is.
Poor Cloud went nuts at last. Think about it, would you be sane after two years in Hojo's lab? And Zack is stuck a spectator. What worse torment for a man of action than to be unable to act?
Big question: is Seph an hallucination or not? And if he's not, who cares if he can't do anything? Look for those answers in the next fic in the series, coming (hopefully) soon to a computer near you! But wait! CAN isn't over yet! Next part: how Cloud got truly confused as to his identity, why he's a 'failure,' and possibly the Great Escape!
Soldier's Lament is a real song by Steve MacDonald; track five on the album "Sons of Somerled." Poignant, truly. I figured Zack needed a hobby, and since Seph bakes, Cloud thinks, and Reno gardens… *shrugs* I had to think of something. So Zack sings. I actually think it's a nice idea. Zack sitting with Aeris, singing to her…*sigh* How cute!