By Moony
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING, you hear! NOTHING!
Chapter V
Cloud lifted his head from the pile of papers that rested on his lap, smacking his dry lips. He glanced drearily over across the mountains of folders and leather-bound books at the bleary-eyed woman who sat on the other side, her brown eyes focused intently on the thick manuscript that she held in her hands. Her knuckles were wide for a female, and they clutched the paper tightly, obviously willing herself to go on reading despite her apparent exhaustion. Cloud sighed, pushing back his chair and rising from his seat, stretching his arms above him. He felt his muscles pull and he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the feeling, moving his shoulders behind him.
"Thirsty?" He asked. His companion blinked sleepily before turning to face him, her long brown hair falling around her face. She smiled up at him, struggling to look more energetic than she really felt. She gave a small nod, and she watched as Cloud went to the counter and poured two mugs of the steaming gook they'd been given. It tasted like Malboro spit, but it was apparently coffee. He returned to the table, setting a dull-gray mug down before her.
"So. . . how've you been, Tifa?" He asked as she reached forward, grabbing the cup and bringing it to her lips. Her eyes flicked towards him before she took a sip, wincing at the taste. She cleared her throat, setting the cup back down on the table and brushing her hair back from her shoulders. When she spoke her voice was clear and strong, demanding respect though granting it at the same time.
"Reeves' campaign is taking up a lot of my time," she stated, simply. Cloud's eyes remained fixed on her, his brow arched expectantly as his gaze implored her to continue. She held her ground for a moment before sighing, shaking her head.
"I don't really enjoy being cramped up like this. I told him I wanted to take some time off to be with you, but he reminded me about the charity funds we'll be holding to rebuild Sector 7." She fell back in her chair, her navy blue business suit crumpling slightly. "He knows how to please, though. He's invited me along to Costa Del Sol on a bit of a pleasure trip."
Cloud nodded, his hands sifting through the folders before him.
"And when do you meet his folks?" He asked, barely managing to keep a straight face.
"I've met them already. We had them for supper last weeken--" She broke off, a red hue tingeing her cheeks and sparks igniting in her eyes. She cast an accusing glance in Cloud's direction, but he pretended to be interested in his cup of coffee.
"Purely business, of course," she added, hastily.
"Of course," Cloud nodded, hiding a smirk. He rotated the mug in his hands, watching the brown liquid roll up and stain the sides, and allowed his mind to wander for a brief moment. It was good to know that at least some of the group could lead contented lives after all that they'd been through. He couldn't even remember what it was like to really relax, without a care in the world, and the realization made him feel aged beyond his years. He had to admit, he'd been envious of Tifa and Reeve settling down in Midgar with their careers. After destroying the last reactor, he'd thought that he and the others would do the same, but now. . .
He turned his attention back to the task at hand, willing his eyes to continue moving, soaking up the information.
"This is ridiculous," Tifa said, running a hand across her brow repeatedly, "I've been through 50 years of scientific history already and nothing like this has ever happened before." She slapped a particularly mundane-looking book onto the table, moving her hand downward to rub at her eyes.
"Frog always wears off after a while. Maybe this will, too," she suggested, her eyes lifting in hope. Cloud nodded, silently, not wanting to jinx anything by speaking his doubts. Red's situation was unlike any transformation he'd ever heard of, and regardless of how it could be related to more everyday events, it was unpredictable and impossible to solve without any scientific help.
Unfortunately, the woman across from him knew him far too well, and forced his thoughts out of him.
"Frog. . . never hurts," he mumbled, casting his eyes away as he saw Tifa's body tense.
"It hurt him?"
Cloud shrugged.
"He didn't say much when I spoke with him, but when Yuffie finally came out of her room, she said that he'd been screaming," he replied, watching Tifa pale as she cast her eyes downward solemnly.
"Screaming?" She echoed, her voice dull. Silence followed as Cloud felt sick to his stomach, not wanting to think about what Red must've gone through – what he was still going through. A complete physical change could leave one feeling just as helpless as a metal change, and Cloud understood all too well what that felt like. A sense of dread and, at the same time, determination overcame him as he realized that Red would possibly be without hope, and he knew that it was up to him and the others to help their transformed friend.
Without another word, Cloud and Tifa both returned to their books, their eyes rapidly scanning the paper. Cloud shifted uncomfortably in his chair, feeling somewhat guilty at his lack of effort. Logically, he knew that he couldn't rely on the transformation to work itself on its own. He knew that Red would need their support and a cure as soon as possible, but in his heart he couldn't accept it. He felt unattached, still unable to believe what had happened. How often did a feline-type beast transform into a human?
Cloud closed his eyes, briefly recalling his friend's appearance. What made it so utterly disturbing was that he actually held a resemblance to his former self, a human shadow of his previous body, though scars and tattoos were gone, obviously not part of his genetic make-up. Not even a faint rise of the scar that had slashed across his right eye remained now, something which would have clearly identified him to anyone he knew.
No, the resemblance lay not in the superficial marks on his body, but in his eyes. Looking into them, Cloud had seen deep onyx pools, a golden shadow lying beneath their surfaces. Like always, regardless of form, a fierce determination and wisdom had burned through, piercing Cloud's gaze and making him draw back. Another quality made Cloud frown at the memory, as he didn't like what it implied. The first time he'd met Red, his eyes had held a resigned sorrow, knowing his future and the fate of the planet. Over time he'd watched it fade away, with the help of the others and their battle, it had been replaced with hope, but it had come on strong after his recent transformation, giving an unwanted feeling of nostalgia. Cloud shook his head, promising himself he'd work hard to bring back that wickedly piercing gaze. The only people who'd ever been able to best Red in a staring contest had been Yuffie and Aeris: The latter for the fact that her eyes had always been exactly the same.
Cloud shuddered involuntarily at the memory of Red's human form, his tanned skin and shaggy red bangs hanging in his face. It had all seemed so surreal, so unbelievably impossible. He knew Tifa and Reeve didn't really believe what he'd told them, not deep down. Tifa only worked to find the cure because it was prudent, but her Frog comment had given her away. They couldn't feel pressured or motivated to work when they couldn't accept what had happened. He knew they both believed that when Red arrived with Yuffie, he'd be back to his normal self, leaving the rest of them with nothing to worry about.
Hell, Cloud admitted to himself, even he believed that. He'd seen Red as a human and his mind wanted to instantly reject the sight. It had seemed unnatural, forced and uncomfortable. He'd wanted to shut his eyes and make it go away, and he could only hope that the three of them were right, and that Red XIII would arrive in Midgar shaken from his experience, but whole and. . . normal.