I will admit that this section contains what I think is my second favorite line in this fic, the one about the ice cracking in the distance. I get hung up on stupid little things like that.
Uh oh, we have OFC sign! Yes, original female character! Run! Hide! ;; I think I did okay with her. But that's not for me to decide.
Oh, and Cloud is in it. Really. Big time Cloud angst. Big time.
Incidentally, the last line in this section is where I stopped writing about four years ago, and put this fic down. I guess this ends the '00 arc for me. :) Anything after this was written within the last 12 or 13 months. I feel like it's almost two seperate stories. Odd, really.
The Turks
"I stepped into an avalanche,
it covered up my soul..."
Avalanche - Leonard Cohen
Tseng was not a small person, and Rude was glad he didn't have to carry him very far. He was no easier than dead weight, and his occasional twitching and outright spazzing wasn't helping either. Reno had helped a little, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that Reno wasn't doing very well himself. And the ashy grey color of his face didn't go well with his violently red hair at all.
"Sorry, Rude," Reno said once again, sagging under the weight.
They reached the bottom of the massive, ancient stairs leading up to Cosmo Canyon, and flagged the sentinel at the gate.
"We need help!" Elena called. The guard in turn whistled for a handful of people to come and help him, and ran down the stairs.
Reno sat down on the ground wearily, taking Tseng and Rude with him. He wiped the sleeve of his shirt over his eyes and forehead and caught his breath. He took off the rubber band that held his hair back and tried to comb through the strands with his fingers, but it was too sweaty and knotted.
"Dammit, Reno, what the hell's the matter?" Rude asked.
"I don't know," Reno said. "I just want to crawl away, puke, and die."
"Yeah, well, do it later, okay?" Rude said. He was worried about Reno, and couldn't help snapping at him.
Tseng spazzed again, and opened his eyes. They were unfocused.
"Tseng?" Reno said warily.
Tseng rolled his eyes in the direction of the voice. Reno was careful not to lean too close to Tseng, in case he should decide that he didn't know who anyone was again, and attack them. Even feeling like hell as Tseng obviously was, he could still put up a fight and they all knew it.
Tseng did make a sudden move, and despite Reno's caution, he simply wasn't fast enough to avoid it. Tseng had grabbed the front of Reno's shirt and pulled him down, so that Reno was leaning over him. Elena and Rude instantly had both their guns drawn and aimed at Tseng's head. Rude was surprised at the determination he saw in Elena's face, but he knew that neither of them was in a hurry to pull the trigger.
Reno was holding a shaking hand up to them. Tseng, still lying on the ground, seemed to be studying him carefully.
"Reno?" he finally whispered.
Elena and Rude simultaneously eased the hammers of their guns back down, but didn't put the guns away.
"Yeah," Reno said softly.
"Recognized your voice, big mouth," Tseng said with a slight smile. Then his eyes rolled back and closed, and his hand fell away from Reno's shirt.
Reno sat back on his heels. "It's a start," he said.
The guards from Cosmo Canyon had reached the bottom of the stairs and approached them, out of breath.
"We need help," Elena said, "We don't know what's wrong with him and this was the nearest town."
The guard who had been standing at the top of the stairs was a very young man, almost a boy. He looked around nervously at the others who had followed him. "Get Nanaki and come to the Shildra," he told one of the others. "The rest of you, help me get this guy there."
"Good luck," Rude said, getting himself up and dusting himself off. "He tends to wake up and freak out every few minutes."
"I'll keep it in mind," the young guard said.
"Excuse me," Elena said, as they lifted Tseng, "did you say 'Nanaki?'"
"Yes, I did," said the young man, as they all started up the stairs.
When they finally reached the Shildra Inn, without incident, the Turks and Tseng were given a room immediately. Reno sat down heavily in the chair across from the bed.
The young man who had helped them turned to one of his comrades. "Should we find Miss Lockheart?" he asked.
Rude looked up more quickly than he meant to. But then, so had Elena and Reno.
"Lockheart?" Reno asked. "As in, Tifa Lockheart?"
"Well, yes," said the guard. "I mean, you guys are the Turks, right? I just think she should know you're here. If you have a problem with that, I'd be more than happy to put a bullet in your brain."
Rude watched Reno struggle with the urge to tell the young man where he could put his bullets, and was very proud of his restraint. "Hey," Reno said instead, holding his empty hands up, "we're not here to cause any trouble. We didn't even know Lockheart was here. But now that you mention it, we do have important news for her."
The guard nodded curtly. One of the other men walked over to him and whispered something in his ear. The guard immediately looked furious, and his face turned red in embarrassment. "And I'll need you to hand over your weapons," he said.
Reno snickered and Rude smiled. "Good thinking," Reno said, and handed over his gun. "But I'll want it back."
"That depends on what Miss Lockheart says," he answered. "I'm going to lock you in, as well," he said. "We can't throw you in jail, but we have to make sure you don't pose a threat."
"Right," Reno said slowly. "That'll hold the Turks."
The guard narrowed his eyes. "It might not," he said, "but the guys posted outside your room might have something to..."
His older friend shook his head. "It's not worth it," he said, and they both left the room, locking the door behind them.
"That was interesting," Elena said glumly. "Seems that the mighty saviors of the Planet still have something against us."
"Well goddamn, Elena," Reno said, "we only tried to kill them a whole big bunch of times."
"It was our job!" she snapped at him.
"I know," Reno said irritably, and held his head in his hands. "Look, let's just wait and see what happens, okay?"
They didn't have long to wait. The door was unlocked, and Nanaki and Tifa Lockheart stepped into the room quietly. For a long moment, no one said a word. Finally it was Tifa who spoke.
"That Tseng?" she asked, with a nod in the direction of the bed.
"Yeah," Reno answered without looking up.
Rude looked her over. She had changed considerably, but was still attractive. Her hair was shorter than it had been, falling only to the middle of her back. He remembered that when he'd first seen her, it was long enough to brush the backs of her thighs. It wasn't as dark as it used to be. Her hips were a little fuller, and her eyes looked very tired. She looked like a woman who had seen much in her time. She leaned against the door with her hands behind her back.
"Did you come to fight?" she asked. "Or did you come because you really need help?"
Elena looked at her, clearly appalled. She gestured toward where Tseng lay curled up on the bed. "What do you think?" she asked.
"I think that you're the Turks," Tifa replied, "and are capable of tricking us."
Nanaki walked up to Tseng and looked at him carefully. He lifted his nose and took in the scents around him. Then he looked back to Tifa. "Well, he is very sick," Nanaki said in a low voice. "It could be poison." He looked at Reno. "You, as well," he said. "We're still trying to find our healer," he said.
"Healer?" Reno snapped. "How about a regular doctor, like everyone else uses?"
"We have news," Rude spoke up, cutting Reno off. "But we need to find Strife, too. It's important."
Tifa turned her eyes to him and for a second, she almost smiled. "I don't have a bar anymore, Rude," she said.
"Shame," Rude replied.
"Yes," she said, and looked pointedly at Reno. "It is."
Reno looked up and met her eyes. Rude could see the bitterness in his eyes and in Tifa's. "We need to find Strife," Reno said, ignoring her baiting remark.
"Cloud is dead," she said.
The entire room went silent and still, letting her words hang in the air.
"Strife's dead?" Reno finally said, breaking the stunned silence.
"That's what I said, isn't it?" Tifa said, with venom in her voice.
"You upset because you didn't get to do it?"
"Hey," Reno said, getting to his feet, "I had nothing against Strife and I know as well as anyone else here what he did for this Planet. You know that it was never personal. It was war. Yeah, your side was right, our side was wrong; that's the way it went this time. But the war is over." He took a long, shaky breath. "I'm thankful for that. I'm tired, Tifa. I am so goddamned tired, and I mean, of everything. You know how many times it would have been easier for me to just drop dead instead of fighting you people? I don't even know what was driving me, or any of us, toward the end. It could have been pride, it could have been ShinRa, it could have been the fact that Avalanche blew the hell out of a Mako reactor that employed a lot of ignorant kids younger than any of us were back then. So don't give me crap about how horrible ShinRa was to bring down Sector Seven; we all know how horrible it was. We lived it. I'm not going to give you excuses, but there is a lot you don't know. I'm sure there's a lot we don't know either. Goddamnit, is there a bathroom here?" he shouted.
Tifa, who had at first been listening to him with a look of stunned, indignant outrage on her face, now stood with her mouth hanging open. "Err, yeah," she said, and nodded toward a door to Reno's right.
"Good!" he said. "I'm going to go puke." And with that, he walked aggressively to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.
"Look, Miss Lockheart," Rude said softly, once Reno had left, "we didn't come here for this. We didn't even know you were here. I think Reno is right. We all want to let go of the things that you and your group did to us. We understand what your motivation was, and we know you were right. This thing has two sides, you know, and Avalanche wasn't perfect either. But we're not obnoxious enough to think that we have anything to forgive you for." He looked at Elena, making sure she didn't have anything to add to that, and wasn't going to disagree. But she simply sat there looking shocked, probably at the fact that Rude had said so much. "It would be helpful for all of us to forget all of that. If you don't want to, fine. We'll give you our news and be on our way. I'm sorry about Strife," he added.
"Come," Nanaki said, still speaking softly, "Miss Elena and Mr. Rude. I think we should leave Mr. Tseng and Reno until our healer gets here. We need to discuss some things and this is not the place for it."
Tifa didn't seem to know what to say, and opened the door for Nanaki, who stepped out. He looked back over his shoulder and waited for Elena and Rude to follow.
They had gone around the back of Cosmo Canyon's observatory. No one spoke on the way. Elena wondered where they were going, and felt very uncomfortable without her weapon. If Tifa and Nanaki had anything planned, she doubted that she and Rude would be able to fight them off. They'd have to somehow escape and get Tseng and Reno out with them.
Beyond the hill they were climbing she could see a cemetery in the distance. She and Rude exchanged curious glances, while Tifa kept walking straight ahead into the graveyard. They shrugged, and followed her. Nanaki stayed back and waited watchfully on the hill.
Tifa stopped in front of a plain headstone. The only word written on it was "Strife."
Elena suddenly saw Cloud Strife in her mind, as a young, aggressive SOLDIER type kid, his eyes full of passion and confusion. As much as the Turks had tried to kill Strife, she had never actually thought he would die. He was too dynamic and too alive. She looked over at Rude and was surprised at how shaken he looked.
"Uh..." Elena began awkwardly, "what happened?"
"He was murdered," Tifa said, without taking her eyes off of the headstone. "I'm sure Scarlet and the new ShinRa were behind it, but there's no way of proving it."
Rude crouched down beside the headstone. "I guess I never really thought he would actually die," he said, echoing Elena's thoughts.
"Yeah," Tifa said almost absently, "me either."
While Elena was still having a difficult time imagining that Cloud Strife was really lying beneath a few solid feet of dirt and grass, Tifa had turned her back and was already walking away.
"I'll see if our healer is there yet," she said without looking back, and walked back to where Nanaki waited on the hill.
Elena turned to look at Rude. "Can you believe it?" she said.
"Not hardly," Rude replied.
Elena turned back and touched the headstone, as if placing a hand on a friend's shoulder. "Hey, Strife," she said softly. Then she turned to Rude once more. "I'm sort of sorry this happened, you know?" she said.
Rude nodded.
Elena thought of the things that the bizarre, spiky headed kid had been through, with ShinRa, Nibelheim, Hojo, the Ancient, and finally Sephiroth. It seemed that if he had survived all of that, nothing would ever kill him. And yet, it had finally been Scarlet who had finished him, or so Tifa thought. She wondered how Scarlet had managed it. She had to admit to herself, she did feel badly that she'd been a part of this struggling kid's grief. Even if he had been a part of hers. She wondered if she would finally get over her anger towards him. Looking at his name on the headstone suddenly shifted her perspective.
"Never thought I'd see you here," Elena said.
Rude nodded in silent agreement.
"Likewise," came a soft voice from behind them. The voice sounded amused and almost sarcastic.
Elena reached for her weapon out of habit before remembering that it wasn't there. She turned slowly, cautiously, preparing herself for anything.
Cloud Strife leaned carelessly against a tall monument a few yards behind them, watching them with an amused look that matched his voice. He was holding a cardboard cup with the words "Icicle Steaming Cocoa" on it in his gloved hands, and had a green, battered backpack slung over one arm. There was a snowboard propped up against his leg. He took a sip from the drink and then casually swirled it with the straw. There was an Icicle Coffee House at the air station outside of Cosmo Canyon, and that was the closest one Elena could think of.
She faced him, filled with confusion and anger. "Are you a clone?" she asked. A clone who travels to the Northern Continent during snowboarding season? her mind mocked, but she hushed the inner voice.
Strife's eyes darkened for a moment, then he smiled easily. "Nope," he said. "Though others might try to tell you that. I'm just Cloud Strife from Nibelheim, same as I always was." He pushed himself off the monument and walked toward them, taking another sip from the straw. "Tifa bring you here?" he asked.
Elena nodded. She had a million questions she wanted to ask, but didn't know where to begin. She decided to just let him talk.
"Yeah, I figured that. New ShinRa's been after me for a while, so this was Avalanche's plan, to fake my death. Kind of a crappy plan, actually. You guys still with ShinRa?" he asked.
Elena was a little shocked at his easy confidence. Apparently Strife wasn't worried at all about whether or not they were from the new ShinRa. He must have known that, had they been working with Scarlet, they'd either kill him or run right back and tell Scarlet that he was alive. She thought that should worry him plenty.
"No, we're not," Rude said, eyeing Cloud warily. "But what if we were?"
Cloud shrugged and smiled again. "You guys couldn't beat me back then," he said. "Not to be rude or anything, but you can't beat me now, even if all of you tried all at once and I had one hand tied behind my back. You could call all of ShinRa down on me, and you still wouldn't beat me. Believe me, I'm not worried about you."
Elena was immediately indignant, and wanted to spit back that he was the most conceited jerk she'd ever seen, but something made her hold back her comments. Looking at him, not only did she grudgingly suspect that he was right, but something about him was making her skin prickle.
She thought perhaps it had something to do with the way that Cloud seemed be to purposely keeping himself under tight control. Underneath his easygoing posture and smile, she sensed something more going on. As Cloud came closer, Elena could see that he was deliberately taking deep, even breaths. He was edgily calm, a practiced calm that seemed to remain intact by the force of his will. She wondered how long after beating Sephiroth it had taken him to win that self control.
Strife could only have been about thirty one or maybe thirty two by Elena's calculation, but his eyes looked older. His hair was longer, and didn't stick straight up as it used to. It still seemed to fall in long spikes, though. Elena vaguely wondered why in the hell that was.
"So why'd you come here?" he asked, with a tilt of his head.
"We ran into some trouble and we needed help," she said. "We didn't know you guys were here. Tseng is alive; he's very sick. There's a lot more to the story, but that's the short answer."
Cloud raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Tseng survived?" he said.
"Yeah, no thanks to you," Elena shot back.
Cloud nodded. "Yeah, that's true. But then, I survived too. No thanks to you guys." He took the lid off of the drink and drained the rest of it, then licked the chocolate from his lips. He smiled again. His teeth were perfectly white and straight. Suddenly he looked all too youthful and misleadingly harmless.
"Anyway, it's probably better that we met you," Elena went on, businesslike. She decided that her resentment was there for a reason, and she'd better let it run its course. She'd let go of it when she was damn good and ready. "We have news that I think might concern you. Sephiroth is back."
Cloud blinked, and his hand tightened around the empty cup, but he otherwise controlled his reaction. Still, Elena was reminded of the time that she had stepped out onto a frozen lake by her childhood home on the Northern Continent and heard the ice crack in the distance.
Cloud took a deep breath, smiled vaguely, and nodded. "I guess it was only a matter of time," he said. "Did you actually see him yourself?"
"That's one way of putting it," Rude said slowly. "But he said he didn't mean anyone any harm."
Cloud nodded. "I guess he could honestly mean that, at least for now."
Elena frowned. It was not the reaction she had expected. She almost wanted to remind him that she had said "Sephiroth," and not "cuddly stuffed mog."
Cloud saw the dubious look on Elena's face, and he shrugged. "You don't know the real Sephiroth," he said. "You never met him. I remember him a little, once in a while. He was cold, but he wasn't, you know. Evil."
"So," Rude said warily, "who's to say he's not still 'evil' now?"
"I didn't say he wasn't," Cloud said. "I just said it was possible." He took another sip from the straw, remembered the cup was empty, and then, looking slightly disappointed, crushed it in his hand. He nodded toward the headstone with his name on it. "Mind if we go back and talk?" he asked. "I don't like looking at that thing."
With no other options, the two Turks followed Strife back to the Shildra.
When Cloud walked into the Inn, followed by the two Turks, Elena thought that Tifa was going to hit him. At first glance, she had looked thrilled to see him, but when she saw the Turks behind him as he strolled casually in, her look of pleasure turned into a glare.
"Cloud!" was all she could manage to say in her exasperation.
Cloud dropped the backpack he was carrying and went to her. He kissed her on the cheek quickly, oddly, without touching her anywhere else. "Don't worry about it, Tifa," he said with a smile. "I know I'm an airhead, but I'm an enhanced airhead. I can still take care of myself."
"Cloud!" she said. "Are you stupid? These are the Turks!"
Cloud looked over his shoulder at Elena and Rude, looked back to Tifa, and smiled. "It's all right," he said. "We don't need to worry about them." He turned back to look at them once more. "Do we need to worry about you?"
"Well, that depends," Elena shot back. "Where are your loyalties these days? Do we have to worry about you?"
Tifa looked even angrier, but Elena knew she was playing her cards right. If she had pretended that everything was just fine and peachy, she and the Turks would immediately be suspect.
Cloud shrugged. "My loyalty's to my friends, same as always. And to the Planet."
Elena could not put her finger on exactly why Strife was making her so nervous. His manner was easy, even friendly. Maybe that was what it was, maybe he was too friendly. And he seemed to be inwardly laughing at something, some private joke that only he was in on. But it made her damned uncomfortable.
It was then that Marlene came into the room. Elena didn't recognize her right away as the little girl who had been guarded by Reeve after Tseng had taken her and Elmyra.
"Tifa?" Marlene began, before spotting Cloud. "Cloud!" she called, and ran over to him, throwing her arms around him. Elena noted that Cloud flinched at this action, and Marlene let him go quickly, conspicuously, and backed away. "I'm glad you're home! How was Icicle Inn? How was snowboarding?"
"It was great," Cloud said. "It really clears my mind. I'll teach
you when your Papa lets me."
"I don't want to break my arm like you that time though, you spaz."
"No, compound fractures suck," Cloud said, rubbing his arm as if the reminder had made it ache. "I brought something home for you; it's in my backpack." He began going through his backpack, finally producing a small box, which he handed to Marlene.
Marlene tore into the cardboard box happily, and finally retrieved a small, crystal snowman. "Ooh, Cloud, it's really pretty!" she said. "Thank you." She visibly restrained herself from hugging him.
Marlene had become a cute young lady. Elena wondered why she was treating Cloud as if he were contagious, when her pleasure at seeing him had been sincere, then she decided that Marlene must have a crush on him. She wondered at the idea of anyone finding Cloud Strife attractive, but teens were known for their strange taste. Perhaps all Marlene could see in him was boyish features and danger. And those even, white teeth, which, to Elena, suddenly made him seem somewhat predatory.
"Thought you'd like it," Cloud said. "I have something for you too, Tifa."
"Oh!" Marlene broke in, remembering that she had come to talk to Tifa. "That's what I wanted to tell you. I couldn't find Gran Reisei. I checked everywhere you told me to, but she's gone."
Sephiroth
It was afternoon by the time Reeve's airship, The Tempest, touched down outside of Cosmo Canyon, and dusk before Reeve left for the town. Sephiroth watched him until he couldn't see him anymore. He could see the observatory in the distance. It wasn't too long of a walk, but Reeve had given Sephiroth the PHS from The Tempest and said that he would call him after he had spoken to Cloud.
Sephiroth adjusted his cloak over his shoulders and sat down. It was then that he realized he was hungry, and wondered if Reeve had been hungry as well. It had been a while since either of them had eaten. He doubted that Reeve's body would be as used to going without food as his was. Well did he remember his early days in ShinRa's laboratory, going days without eating simply because Hojo had forgotten that food was a necessity for his experiment.
Hojo. He hadn't had a chance to ask Reeve anything about Hojo. There was a lot he wanted to ask about everything, but the scientist was a priority. He had a feeling Hojo was dead. He almost had to be, otherwise, Sephiroth knew, he'd somehow have reared his ugly head by now.
He closed his eyes and let another vague memory sharpen in his mind. Instead of seeing Hojo, he saw his own reflection. He was small, a child of perhaps ten. He had seen other children by then, and had to admit, he didn't look like one. He didn't seem to be proportioned like one either.
He remembered wondering often why there was even a mirror in the bathroom. He never cared to look at himself as a child, and by all appearances, Hojo never even glanced at one. Later in Sephiroth's life, certainly, the mirror was very handy. He had to make sure that, as a Soldier, he looked disciplined and organized. Or at least, as organized as he could possibly look with his wild, long, silver hair.
He suddenly remembered the day clearly. This would have to be the day that he'd woken up to find that his dark brown hair had turned entirely silver.
-
Sephiroth stared in the boy in the mirror.
"Hojo," he snapped.
He heard the scientist drop something, and felt his startled presence jump in response to the sharpness in his creation's voice. In a moment, he saw Hojo's reflection behind him.
"Hojo," Sephiroth said, "why is my hair silver?"
"Possibly a side effect," Hojo said in a dismissive tone. "Just a side effect of your treatments."
Sephiroth continued to stare. His hair, which had always grown quickly, had also seemingly grown a few inches overnight, and now fell to his shoulders. And the color somehow made him seem paler than before. Or maybe he was paler. Maybe that was another side effect. He wondered fleetingly why these things were called "side effects." Wasn't everything cause and effect? Where did the "side" part come in? It seemed like a complicated way of saying "mistakes."
"I hate it," he said. "Cut it off."
"Now, Sephiroth," Hojo said in his oily voice, "there's no need..."
Sephiroth turned on Hojo so quickly that the scientist fell back a step. "I said cut it off!"
Hojo smiled in pretend sweetness. "All right," he said smoothly. "We'll cut it off."
Sephiroth had waited impatiently while Hojo cut his hair as short as he could, until it was cropped close to his head. His scalp felt every movement of Hojo's hands, and it was revolting. He still hated the way it looked, but at least he didn't have strands of strange light hair falling all over his face as a constant reminder.
He dusted the fallen strands off the shoulders of the loose fitting white scrubs that were his standard wardrobe.
Hojo had then sent him off to study from one of his numerous history books. Reading time was one of the only things Sephiroth enjoyed back then. It was one of the only times he could be alone, could have privacy, and could think his own thoughts. Reading time provided a respite from the many scientists' cool, latex-covered fingers, the clinical terms that they used to describe him, the curious stares and fearful glances. Hojo simply touched him far too much, and without gloves. There was nothing more than detached, scientific interest in his touch, and Sephiroth could never understand why these routine things still made his skin crawl.
But when he was let alone with his books, it didn't matter if he was hungry or thirsty or cold. He was just glad to be left alone, and to be absorbed into a world outside of the laboratory.
In fact, on this day, he had become so involved in his reading that he didn't notice right away when he absently pushed a stray lock of long silver hair behind his ear. It was a common gesture, and he had all but forgotten about the day's events. But when that stray lock of silver hair fell into his eyes and he impatiently brushed it back once more, he stopped reading. He was afraid to look. He was afraid to even touch, for fear of confirming what he already knew, from the way he could feel it tickling his neck.
It had been one of the few times that he had actually let himself go so far as to cry in frustration, and in fear as well. He berated himself for it, and for being so afraid. Perhaps, he had thought, the injections were finally poisoning him enough so that he would die. Instead of frightening him, that was the thought which comforted him. The real fear came from knowing that this probably wasn't true. What was more likely was that he would continue to live, and would be even more different than he had been before. Which meant more blood tests, more curious and fearful glances, more physical studies and reports. All of the things he hated the most.
When his reading time was over, he once again looked into the mirror in the bathroom. And again, Hojo came up behind him and regarded him with fascination. "So interesting," Hojo muttered.
"I hate it," Sephiroth said hollowly.
Hojo chuckled and put his hands on Sephiroth's shoulders with a proprietary air. "Don't worry about your hair, boy," he said. "You have too much to be vain about, to worry about what you look like."
"But when I join SOLDIER..."
"When you join SOLDIER, Sephiroth, no one will dare question you. This is you, my Sephiroth. You can't change what you are."
Sephiroth sighed and tucked his hair into his cloak. He drew his knees up and rested his head on them as the memory of Hojo's lab faded.
Then he looked up again quickly.
He could sense something moving towards him, and could hear soft footsteps in the distance. It wasn't Reeve. He found he could hear and sense Reeve easily, as he had when Reeve had tried to secretly call Strife through that bizarre little robot of his. He could hear his breathing pattern change, even sleeping as he had been. It was almost funny, how hard Reeve had tried to be so quiet, and how he'd been so obviously pretending to be asleep. But it was also upsetting to Sephiroth that he inspired that amount of terror in someone who should have had nothing to fear from him.
And also, he had to respect what the man had tried to do. As afraid as Reeve obviously was, it hadn't stopped him from trying to warn his friend of perceived danger. It was this unthinking valiance, Sephiroth remembered, that he had always liked in Reeve, and he'd always thought that he was the only one in ShinRa who had taken note of it.
The presence moving towards him definitely wasn't Reeve. In the distance, Sephiroth could discern a bobbing, flickering green light. He narrowed his eyes as he watched it approach. It felt familiar.
In a few moments, he could see that the figure was female. The shape of her was small, awkward, hunched over. He could see a curtain of hair, could see that she was wearing a simple, loose-fitting dress, that she was carrying what seemed to be a large object wrapped in cloth on her back, and that she was holding the flickering green flame in her palm. Likely, it was coming from her palm.
Sephiroth wasn't impressed. She was obviously Mako enhanced, and the green flame was a cheap parlor trick.
Finally he could see her features, and was surprised to see that he was looking at an old woman. From the thickness of her hair, he had at first judged her to be much younger. The light cast moving shadows over her deeply lined face and over her hair, which, half tied loosely behind her back with the rest falling over the sides of her face, was silver like his.
She smiled as she approached him, and tilted her head to the side like a schoolgirl asking to be noticed. He watched her silently as she closed her hand around the green flame, snuffing it in her palm. He could still see her by the moonlight. Then she took the burden she was carrying off her back, put it in front of him, and knelt down slowly, her bones creaking.
"Sephiroth," she said. Her voice was young and light, and had a tone of pleased familiarity.
"You have the advantage of me. Have we met?"
She smiled, showing straight, white teeth that looked out of place in her wrinkled mouth. It was disconcerting to look at her, and confusing to see such an open...young look in features that were wizened and old. Not just old, Sephiroth felt, as he looked at her brightly glowing, green eyes. Far beyond old.
...Ancient...
Sephiroth raised his eyebrows, but tried not to show any further surprise. He leaned forward to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.
"Aerith?"
She giggled, a demure, sweet sound. "I get that a lot."
"Then who..."
"I brought you something."
Sephiroth was about to be annoyed with her for cutting him off, but became more interested in the item she had placed on the ground. She glanced at it before looking coyly back at him.
He quirked an eyebrow and deigned to look at it as well. It was much longer than it was wide; nearly as tall as he was. He felt his lips part in stupid wonder as he realized, even before he pulled back the cloth, what it was.
"Oh," was all he could say, and it came out in a whisper.
"Some peoplepeople who don't know about Jenova, maybethink that this is what drove you insane. Silly rumors."
Sephiroth looked at her sharply, an edge of ice already in his voice as he prepared to tell her that people were idiots. It wasn't so much that she had spoken of his insanity (and apparent notoriety,) as it was that she had mentioned the Masamune blade in with the whole mess. But then he found that it was difficult indeed to look into her craggy, smiling face and be angry at her.
He slid his hand down the cold length of the blade as if tasting it with his fingers.
"But that's ridiculous," she went on. "This blade sings for you. You gave it your spirit. It cried when you went insane and used it unjustly."
Sephiroth looked away from the sword and back to this strange old woman, and wondered if he was dreaming. It seemed to make sense that he would be dreaming, since he was very close to his emotions, and that rarely happened when he was awake. But, dreaming or not, he still had to do or say something.
"How did you find"
"It's clean now and so are you," she said.
It occurred to Sephiroth that she was interrupting him to avoid answering his questions. He thought about telling her that he knew what she was doing, but what she had just said had piqued his interest more.
"What do you mean?"
"Jenova was inside of you since before you were born. She made you half of what you were."
"And?"
"And now she's not inside of you." She waited for him to understand that, and then she smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear in a feminine and youthful gesture. Sephiroth was once again reminded of the photos he had seen of Aerith Gainsborough. "Nice new body, fresh and clean," she said as she looked him over appreciatively. "And quite strong," she added with a coquettish lilt that belied her age. The effect was unsettling. "Come back with me to the Canyon, Sephiroth. I'll take you there."
For a moment Sephiroth only stared at her. Then he got up, taking the Masamune easily and swiftly in his hand as he did so. It was as if they had never been parted. The woman struggled for a moment, and he offered her his free hand, hearing her joints snap as he helped her to stand.
"Thank you," she said. "Hide that under your cloak, but only for now. Sephiroth, I have one more thing that I need to give you. Have you had many limit breaks?"
Sephiroth stared in confusion for a moment before answering her. "Ah, yes," he finally said. "Yes, many."
"Good, then I can give you another gift; I have it hidden away at the Canyon. Follow, please."
Then she turned and started to walk back to where she'd come from.
Sephiroth watched her walk, trying to figure out what he had just seen. He found that he couldn't. He was unused to being so badly confused. Finally, he could think of nothing to do but follow her.
Wordlessly, he did.
Avalanche
"And though I've tried to lay her ghost down
She's moving through me, even now
I don't know why and I don't know how..."
- Nick Cave - Nobody's Baby Now
It had been turning out to be one of those days when he had to concentrate every cell in his body on blocking the feelings out. The feelings lead to panic, and panic lead directly to loss of control, and loss of control was bad. But seeing the Turks return with such drama had thrown him a curve and surprised him enough that he forgot that he had to concentrate so damned hard. In fact, it had taken his mind completely off the feelings for a while, and strangely, that was good. It gave him a moment to breathe. Only once, when Elena had mentioned the word "clone," did they threaten to resurface, but he forced them back like hot bile in his throat.
Of all things, he must not lose control in front of anyone who had been involved in ShinRa. The Turks seemed to have turned out for the better, and he believed them when he said they had no more loyalty to their old company. But they still knew too much about him. They knew both too much and too little, and that was a deadly combination. They would act out of fear if they knew what was going on.
Oh hell, even he acted out of fear. Even Tifa did, a few of the times when they had both acknowledged the depth of this thing.
Cloud rested his head against the cool, damp porcelain of the toilet and heaved a long, shaky sigh. Which, he thought, was a hell of a lot nicer than what he had heaved a few minutes ago. She was punishing him for fighting her again. She hated for him to fight her, and on some days she was so strong, she got her point across with bone-jarring emphasis. On some days though, she seemed to even forget about him for a while. It seemed likely to Cloud that there were still others she thought she could use.
She never stayed away for too long, though, and her appearances were sudden, random, and often impossible to predict. He'd always hoped that she would find him too weak to fulfill her desires and would perhaps find someone else to use. That would at least free him up to fight her againfrom the outside.
Or of course, she might also choose to bring all of them together and build a much bigger beast, so to speak. Just bring them all together.
(reunion)
(become one)
Cloud snorted derisively and raised his middle finger over his head. "Become one with this," he said, and immediately twisted into a heap on the floor.
(cloud, my numberless reject, how can you be so stupid?) her voice asked him mentally, as he felt fire in his skin. Every nerve ending felt separated from the others, and if he had an eternity, he could count them. She didn't like to be mocked, and he damn well knew that, but sometimes it was the only way he could prove he wasn't a slave. He felt her literally under his skin, and the sensation was what he imagined it would feel like to be stung by thousands of bees all over.
Cloud swallowed hard and fought for a breath. She was strong today, and seemed to be focusing all her attention on him. He guessed it was because he'd had his attention on her. If only, he thought, he could just find those pieces of her that were so carefully hidden in his system, and cut them out...
Finally, her grip eased up, and the buzz of her presence left his head. He found that he could smile a little. She was recedingno, retreating again. At least for now.
Damn Sephiroth for coming back and making him think of her, and while Cloud was at it, damn Sephiroth in the first place, for what had happened all those years ago.
Damn Sephiroth for showing up when he had, the last time they had fought Jenova. Damn Sephiroth for taking the fall for her while she eked out her escape, beaten and broken, to...to regroup. Damn Sephiroth for being such a groveling, easily manipulated weakling and going under like a rookie.
And damn Cloud Strife while you're at it, for letting him.
Because Cloud knew exactly what Sephiroth had been going through with The Bitch, and had managed to hold out for years, with some help. Help that perhaps Sephiroth had never gotten.
If Sephiroth hadn't shown up when he had that last time they'd fought Jenova, then he, Vincent and Cid would have finished her off. He was sure of it. But now she was still hidden in him, and had been dormant until she'd gotten her strength back, multiplied herself, and made herself known again.
He stood up wearily, leaning on the sink, and looked in the mirror. Ah, god, this was bad. His eyes were brighter than they had been even minutes ago. Not green, but that strange bright blue that they had always been. Well, always since Mako and Jenova, anyway. They burned, too; he could feel it, like acid in his eyes, making them water like crazy, but he knew that part would pass. With what seemed like the strength it might take to move a few tons of bricks, he quickly brushed his teeth. He noted that the toothbrush was pink, which meant that his goddamn gums were bleeding again. He rinsed his mouth and spat out pink water.
The chill came, as it always did, and Cloud rubbed his hands down his arms and shivered. Then he rubbed his hands back up his arms, and froze. He felt as if the bottom of his stomach dropped out, and felt the bitter, awful fear, like a punch in the chest, that he was so used to, though somehow its impact never lessened.
Maybe if I don't look. If I pretend for a while that I don't feel that, then it will be gone next time I look... Cloud considered trying to ignore it, but of course as always, the entire time, he would feel his heart pounding and his palms sweating, and that desperate fear that came with pretending.
Cloud took his time taking his shirt off. If he rushed, then that would mean he was panicking. If he was panicking, that would mean that there was something to panic about. He carefully hung the shirt up on a hook. He took a deep breath, then held his arms out under the bright bathroom light. It wasn't on his forearms, just the backs of his upper arms, and so faint that he could actually feel it more than he could see it, but there it was.
He ran his finger lightly down the back of one arm, feeling the slight ridges under the skin. Those were either feathers or scales, but whatever the hell they were, they were Jenova's, not his, and she was changing him again.
The loneliness was worse than the fear. He could tell Tifa, he could tell Nanaki or any of his friends, or the people who tried to help him, and they would talk to him and try to be helpful and say things like, "We're working on a way to make these cells dormant again," but at the end of the day, it was still just him. And her, of course.
Knowing that he was so goddamn different, and wanting so badly to be something, anything that made sense, was what had made him beg Hojo for a project number on that awful day.
Cloud laughed weakly, even though the memory hurt just a bit more than his body did just then. He had begged Hojo for a project number, and he had done it in front of everyone, as well. He barely remembered doing it, but he remembered the feeling. He had so badly wanted Hojo to accept him that day, to give him a place and a reason. Just the idea of it, and the thought of how gratified Hojo must have been, made him want to start spewing all over again. But there were only so many times he could curse Hojo, and anyway, he had killed the sick bastard, and that should have been enough.
It should have been.
"Cloud."
Cloud almost turned around to answer, then remembered that his eyes were probably still burning bright in the dim bathroom, and decided not to. What the hell was Tifa doing in the bathroom with him, anyway? The bathroom of all places? Sure, he had probably been in too much of a rush to worship the porcelain gods to remember to lock the door, but did she have no decency? No decorum? No respect for him, or was he just an object that needed to be tended...?
Cloud rubbed his hand over his face and scrubbed the back of his hand over his eyes. The burning was beginning to fade. He realized he wasn't being reasonable, he was being emotional. Bad emotional, angry emotional and aggressive emotional, and none of those feelings were to the good. He quickly looked down into the white sink so she wouldn't see his eyes in the mirror.
"Yes, Tifa?" he said in a strained voice.
She took another step into the bathroom. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. Cloud, there are..." She hesitated as if trying to decide which tone to take with him. "Things are getting ready to happen," she said. "I guess you know what's going on."
Cloud nodded. "Yeah, Sephiroth," he said, trying for a strong and clear voice, and failing
(failure)
miserably.
"Sephiroth, the Turks...all of this in one day," Tifa said. "I'm afraid of what comes next."
(jenova)
"Me too," he said.
She was very still as she stood in the doorway. Then he heard her lean against the frame and even that slight sound seemed too loud. She was trying to be as casual and calm as she could.
"How bad is it?" she asked.
Cloud sighed through his teeth. "Not one of my better days," he said. "But...I think I can get it under control,"
(if you just leave me the hell alone you stupid intrusive)
(stop it!)
He took a deep breath and fought the words in his head. He knew they weren't his own, but they came on their own, acted like his thoughts, and spoke in his own voice.
"...If I can just take a few minutes, I can get it under control again."
"Cloud, you don't even have to see him if you don't want to. Barret and I, I'm sure together we can..."
She stopped, and he heard her sharp intake of breath. He was still afraid to turn around, and when he opened his eyes, he could see clear blue light in the white sink. God, how bright were they? The entire sink looked blue.
"Oh, Cloud," she nearly moaned, and he could hear sick fear in her voice. She walked over to him and barely touched his back.
"Don't," he snapped. He wanted to know what she had seen that made her sound like that. He wanted to know, but he did know, actually. There was no point in pretending he didn't know. He might not be certain of the details, but surely the Jenova cells were active and had manifested themselves into something horrible, something bad enough to make Tifa sound as sick as he felt. His insides felt hot and weak.
She touched him anyway, and aside from the intrusion
(just like everyone else)
(object)
(failure)
it hurt like knives. He flinched, and turned to glare at her, forgetting about his eyes until he saw that her face was lit with an electric blue glow. It made the tears standing in her eyes look dyed.
"Oh my god, Cloud," she said shakily.
"You're not making this any easier."
"Cloud, your back...Turn around."
He tried masking his panic with impatience as he did what she asked. This time she ran both her hands down his back, light as two feathers, and he twisted away from her. It hurt like hell, and Cloud drew his breath in between his clenched teeth. "Jesus, Tifa, do you really need to..."
"Oh my god," she said again, and her voice was full of both horror and wonder.
"Well, what is it?" he snapped, although he had an idea that he already know. Oh lord yes; he was sure he already knew.
(savior)
The image he got was terrible and awful: an inhuman
(Savior)
figure, frightening and sad at the same time. Sephiroth...
(SAVIOR)
Sephiroth, twisted and hovering over him, an aura of light around him like a halo or a ring around the moon.
And wings. White, brittle, iridescent and absolutely wrong.
Cloud leaned over the sink, surprised to see his own tears falling into it. "Go away," he said. "Tifa, go away," he added, in case she was unsure of whom he was addressing.
She didn't stand down. He could feel her adopting her resolute pose. "No," she growled. "I'm not afraid of her."
Cloud turned back to her, this time making sure she was looking into his eyes. "Isn't it enough that I'm afraid her her?"
