The Turks
The visuals were as sharp as any digital recording Elena had seen. There was no question that it was Fletcher's bloody profile that had passed by first. The camera showed him sitting down on the floor of the Tempest, just barely out of sight so that only his hand was visible in the field of vision. Occasionally his hand would move or he would cough, but other than that it seemed that he had fallen asleep. Then the crooked figure of Reisei had passed quickly. It was eerie to see her pass, knowing that she was heading out into the ruins to find the clone of Cloud Strife.
It was hard to believe that this had happened weeks ago.
A considerable amount of time passed before Scarlet's distinctive profile passed the camera.
The sound was a little muddy, but she could still make out the words and could identify Scarlet's voice: "God, he makes it so easy for me sometimes. Naive Reeve! I knew I'd find something of use here."
And then Fletcher's tired voice asking, "What could I possibly do for you, you traitorous bitch?"
"You know what I want, Fletcher, and it's not too late. If Reeve lives - doubtful, from the way it looks - I'll still need his resignation, for him to hand over control to me, as well as immunity. After his resignation, well, then he can die. Has to, in fact. He knows who Bradburn is, and he knows I set up Midgar. He'll have figured it out by now."
"You're responsible for doing this to Midgar!"
Silence on the tape for a moment. A quick intake of breath from Fletcher, the words, "Oh, shit," and a scuffling sound. Then a flash, and the report of a pistol.
A few moments later, Scarlet's profile again as she walked away, this time looking frazzled, and with flecks of blood on her face.
Reeve clicked the television off, sat back in his chair, and tiredly rubbed his eyes. "I think that's all we need," he murmured.
Elena put her hand over Reeve's. "I'm sorry," she said. It was hard to go on, but she did. "Reeve, I'm sorry this happened. All of it. We all are." She looked towards Rude, Reno and Tseng, and they acknowledged her with a slight nod. "And I know that this proves her responsibility. But I don't think it absolves us from ours."
"They've got nothing but Bradburn to tie you to it," Reeve said, "And Bradburn will probably..."
"Bradburn," Tseng cut in quietly from the dimmest corner of the room. His eyes, still glowing fiercely, were sensitive to light from having been in Scarlet's dimly lit rooms for so long. "You won't hear from Bradburn anymore."
"What do you mean?" Reeve asked, with obvious trepidation.
"I mean that I hadn't forgotten my way around Scarlet's HQ, Reeve. Bradburn was a risk. I removed the risk. Heidegger's still out there, of course, but he won't say a thing; he's too happy to have Scarlet out of the way."
"You...you..." Reeve stumbled over the words as he tried to put it together. "You removed - "
"Yes, Reeve, I removed the risk, just as Scarlet tried to do. I'm a Turk. I only forgot that I was for a while."
"Right," Reno said. "I personally have no problem with the little shit's demise, but I agree with Elena. We're responsible. We're accountable. And that's why we're here."
Reeve looked them all over, and Elena saw his frustration and confusion. "What do you want me to do?" he asked. "Put you all in jail?"
Rude chuckled quietly. "A jail would never hold us, even if we wanted it to," he said. "There's no jail that could, no jailer we couldn't get around, and the temptation to escape would be too great. And besides, honestly, no one wants to go to jail if they don't have to."
"We can't make up for it," Reno said. "Sure as shit there's no way I can, anyway. But we're here to do what we can."
"Meaning?" Reeve said.
"We'll work," Elena said. "When you were halfway awake after the battle, you mentioned rebuilding. That's not going to be an easy or rewarding job, Reeve. The place is uninhabitable the way it is now. Mako everywhere, the Mako that makes up Confusion status materia. The entire city is poison."
"That's why I was frying myself, Commander Planet," Reno said. "It wasn't because I'm a perv who was getting off on it. Contrary to popular belief."
Reeve pressed his hands together and leaned his chin on them. He seemed to think it over, then he shook his head. It wasn't so much a gesture of denial as it was helpless indecision. He gazed out the window of his Junon office over the harbor, lost in thought. "It's dangerous, even if you're equipped for it," he finally said. "The best rescue teams are coming out sick, injured, completely unable to carry on."
"And we're better than the best," Rude said.
"While your rescue teams are being poisoned in there because they don't have status guards or equipment, civilians are dying," Elena said. "That's because of us."
Reeve seemed inclined to sit at the table and stare out the window. He looked weary, and Elena had just decided to take the decision out of his hands when Tseng stood up. He walked over to where Reeve was sitting, put his palms flat on the table and leaned over.
"The Turks want this mission, Reeve," he said quietly. "If you want to stop us, you will have to lock us up."
Reeve looked up at Tseng, whose expression was unreadable. "You're not giving me a choice," Reeve said.
Tseng shook his head, and finally gave Reeve a chilly smile.
"Thank you," Reeve said.
"Thank you for saving my life at the Temple," Tseng returned. Seeing Reeve's surprised expression, he added, "Yes, I remember now. As if it were last month."
"That settles it, then," Reno said. "Let's go, uhh, plan. Or whatever it is Turks do."
Tseng rolled his eyes in exasperation. "God, he was so hard to train," he muttered. Then he straightened up and looked over his Turks. "Is anyone unfit for this mission?"
"No, sir," the answered in unison.
"Does anyone see any reason not to proceed?"
"No, sir."
"Will the field commander step forward?"
Without hesitation, Elena stepped up. If Tseng was surprised, he didn't show it. She was pleased to notice that she met his eyes easily, with none of her former shy awkwardness. She wondered for a moment why that was, and then realized that it was because she wasn't in love with him. She found it odd that it was still a revelation to her, since she hadn't thought she was in love with him since ten years ago.
"Are you able to give orders to your fellow Turks on the unpredictable field even if it means putting yourself in danger? Even if it means putting them in danger?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good," Tseng said. "Meet me in our office in ten minutes, Commander."
"Our office?" Elena said.
"Ah, Reeve," Tseng said, glancing over his shoulder, "we need an office. This will, of course, be our only request of you."
"Of - of course. You can use the one below mine. There are some boxes in there, in storage, but I can get rid of those."
Tseng nodded politely, and then left the room. The three remaining Turks relaxed noticeably, Elena included.
Rude was the first to step up to Reeve. He held out his hand. "Thank you, man," he said.
Reeve took Rude's hand and shook it earnestly. "For what? For letting you guys put yourself in mortal danger for Midgar?"
"Yes," Rude answered. He released Reeve's hand and turned away. "See you guys at the meeting," he said. He clapped Reno on the shoulder on his way out.
"The meeting," Reno repeated, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Hey, we have a meeting in a few minutes. Better get ready. Hey, the Turks are having a meeting. Imagine that. Haha!" He laughed loud and with true pleasure. Then he went to shake Reeve's hand. "Hey, Reeve, we'll get the job done. I had a cat in NeoMidgar, you know? It's probably dead. But maybe not."
"I, uhh, hope you find...well, whatever it is you're looking for," Reeve said, sounding mystified, but quietly pleased.
"Hey, Elena, make it quick," Reno said. "We have a meeting in a few minutes, you know?"
"Yes, Reno, I know," Elena said with a small laugh.
Reno jumped up and hit the ceiling with his hand on his way out the door. Elena hadn't seen him looking so healthy in...well, ever, now that she thought of it. She hoped that he would stay that way.
"Elena, I want you to be careful," Reeve said as he came around from behind his desk.
She turned around to face him. "I will be."
"And don't get hurt."
"I'll try not to."
"Because I'm taking you to dinner after this is all over."
"All right," she answered automatically. Then his words sank in, and she felt a jolt of nerves in her stomach. Reeve, it seemed, meant to take her to dinner. Not all of the Turks, but just her. That complicated matters, but she found that she didn't mind it. She looked him over, as she had occasionally in the past, and realized that she honestly did like his dark eyes and graying hair.
But a dinner date after a dangerous mission? No, that hit too close to home, though Reeve would never have known that.
"Not dinner," she said. "A movie. A stroll. A day at the beach. Lunch. A trip on the Tempest. Whatever bizarre thing you can think up within reason. But not dinner."
Reeve was mystified by this, but seemed to know better than to ask why. "That works," he said. "That works. Whatever you want."
"Good," she said with a laugh. And, like the rest of the Turks, she shook his hand, grateful for the mission, for the opportunity to work and to try to make amends, if they could ever be made. The opportunity was enough for now.
Anything else could come later.
Avalanche
If Vincent had any euphoric or peaceful feelings about being free of Jenova, he didn't show it. He didn't show any emotion at all, in fact, and to a point, Tifa could understand this. Emotion could be overwhelming; it had the potential to be destructive. She had run herself mad around the Shildra, trying to occupy her mind until Cloud returned, trying not to think of the implications. The implications were too cruel. She wasn't sure if she should even be giving them any thought, because they might prove to be false, and what good did worrying do in the meantime?
So instead of worrying, she worked. If anyone noticed her distraction, they didn't mention it. If anyone wondered the same thing she was wondering, they didn't bring it up, either. Barret was with Marlene; Cid was preparing the Highwind for departure (he had been doing this for about a week - Tifa got the idea he simply wasn't ready to leave yet); Yuffie had reclaimed her materia; Nanaki had gone quietly back to teaching the children of Cosmo Canyon; life and business went on.
Vincent had stayed on for a while, too, waiting for something. Not for Cloud's return, Tifa suspected. (She wondered if Vincent thought that he now had all the time in the world to be Cloud's friend and comrade, as they should have been these many years. She wondered if he was wrong.) Rather, she felt that he was waiting for either Reisei or Sephiroth, or perhaps both. Tifa hadn't seen Sephiroth, and had seen Reisei infrequently.
Sephiroth had to be somewhere, she reckoned. It wasn't like him to just go away and die.
Her most important question was answered one evening a week and a half after Jenova's defeat as she sat in the graveyard, where Cloud's mock tombstone had once stood. (She and Cloud had made taking that thing down their first order of business upon returning to Cosmo Canyon.) She had done everything there was to do that day: her office was in order, her housework was done, her business day was over, and she had trained for two hours and had no further excuses to keep going. So she sat alone and tried to clear her mind. She refused to see the image she had helplessly dreamed every night since Cloud's
(death clone resurrection)
return. She aggressively blocked out the picture of Cloud, thin, young and frail, his hair changing from blond to white in a matter of seconds as she watched helplessly. And then she saw herself visiting the grave, standing as it had once stood, only this time with Cloud really beneath it.
Enough; it was time to go. She wondered why she'd thought that coming here would help her. There were no answers here, and especially not to her most important question.
Reisei might know the answer. Sephiroth might. Cloud almost certainly did, but he was away, and she was alone.
Tifa got up and turned to leave, then fell back with a small, breathless shriek to find her way blocked. Her nerves still jumping, she lowered her fists and relaxed her stance when she saw that it was Vincent standing in front of her.
"I'm sorry if I scared you," he said.
"No, it's all right. I should have heard you coming." Which wasn't exactly true, she thought. Oddly enough, even with all the metal on him, Vincent was quiet as a cat.
He offered her his arm, the one that was still whole and human, and she linked her arm through his. They walked in silence for a moment.
"You're brave," he finally said.
Tifa shrugged. She didn't feel brave.
"But you are," he answered her unspoken denial. "You face things. It's who you are."
"I guess that's just because I don't have a choice sometimes."
"You're wrong. There's always a choice. And years ago, I made the choice to sleep instead of doing what I should have been doing. A coward will always find a way to run away."
"Vincent, I'd hardly call you a coward. Come on, give yourself some credit for once."
He favored her with a small, ironic smirk. "This conversation is about you, not me."
Tifa smiled back, although she knew that she wasn't going to get out of this one. Vincent wouldn't let her; he would keep steering it back. It frustrated her. She wanted to finally ask him her question. Not that there was much of a chance of him knowing the answer, but he might.
"But there's a subtle difference between bravery and obstinance," he said.
"Oh, do you think I cross the line?" she teased.
"I think you straddle the line once in a while."
She could hear gentle mocking in his tone, and she didn't mind it. "So what am I being obstinate about?"
"There's something on your mind, and you won't talk to anyone. Tifa, don't make the mistake I've made all my life and not ask someone for something."
Her stomach seemed to turn to ice. She had wanted to talk to someone, but at the same time, had been terrified of the answer. Vincent, her most persistent friend, would make her face it.
"I wouldn't presume to force you to speak to me, and maybe I'm not the one you want to be speaking to. But you should talk to someone at least, and..."
"I do want to ask you," she said. "I'm just afraid of the answer. And maybe you don't even have the answer."
"Maybe I don't," he said. "But someone might."
"I - "
"And if you're afraid that Cloud won't come back - forgive me for presuming so much - then I don't think you need to worry. He will be back. Soon, I guess." He said these things hurriedly, as if he felt it wasn't his business but he had to say it anyway.
"No..." Tifa said. She took a breath before going on, and when she spoke, it was on a shivering exhale. "It's just that I'm afraid that when he does...when he does..."
Before he let himself see her cry, Vincent put his good arm around her and pulled her to him. It was probably easier than looking at her, and he seemed to not want to invade her privacy. She knew that Vincent was uncomfortable with scenes like this, but damnit, she couldn't help it. This was another reason why she hadn't wanted to ask anyone. It was almost easier to let her fear eat her like acid from the inside.
But she wanted to hurry on and say it, so he didn't get the idea that she was going to say some silly, petty, vain thing like "I don't think Cloud loves me!" Cloud's feelings towards her were the least of her worries.
"Sephiroth and Reisei were both dead for a while, and when they came back, they both came back as clones, and..." She swallowed hard, found that she was clutching Vincent's cape in her hands, and didn't care. This was the hardest thing in the world to say. "Now they're both aging fast... Dying."
"Oh," Vincent said. "I see. Yes, I thought about that on the way home. To here, I mean."
"You did?" Tifa said. She hitched in her breath, trying to quit crying. Crying wouldn't do her or Cloud any good.
"Yes, I brought this up to...to..." He was afraid to admit to her that he had spoken like a friend to Sephiroth, and she knew it. "To both of them. I asked both of them. God, Tifa, if I'd only known this was on your mind, I would have told you. But I supposed that you had already asked Reisei and so had your answer."
So Vincent had an answer, or at least something close to one. She held onto him tighter, afraid to let go, because when he told her that Cloud was going to age and die within a few years, she would fall. "Tell me," she whispered. "Tell me what Reisei said. Tell me even what Sephiroth said. He must know something."
"They did, or at least it seems to make sense." Vincent thought it over for a few agonizing moments. Finally he seemed to find a way to put it together coherently. "Reisei said that Cloud never entered the Lifestream the way she and Sephiroth had done. She said that they were aging to catch up with themselves. Since he hadn't entered the Lifestream, his...his consciousness, or his soul, or... He doesn't remember being dead. It was more like he was dreaming outside of his body. Your body, they say, believes everything you tell it."
Tifa felt weak with relief. For a moment it looked, to her dismay, as if she would fall down anyway. But she held herself up, gathered her strength, and was able to pull away from Vincent. Vincent, who seemed to be telling her that Cloud would live.
She wanted more than anything to believe him.
Vincent gave her a small, wistful smile. There was sadness behind all of his smiles, and Tifa knew that, and she certainly couldn't miss it this time.
"If that's true about your body believing everything you tell it," she mused, "then why doesn't Reisei stop herself from aging? Why don't people cure themselves of cancer? Why don't people live forever?"
"Tifa, if I could answer those questions..."
She found that she didn't need him to. He was telling her that Cloud knew he was alive on a soul level, basically that the cells of his body, regardless of where it had come from, knew themselves to be thirty two years old and would act accordingly. She found that she didn't only want to believe it; she actually, truly did. It made sense to her.
"Then it's over," she said, and wrapped her arms around Vincent again. "Cloud's all right, Jenova is gone, and it's over."
He shifted his weight uncomfortably, and gently pulled her arms from around his neck. "Almost," he murmured, turning away from her. "There was one person who didn't make it to the reunion."
Tifa rested her hand on his arm as she tried to understand what he was telling her. Jenova was gone, she had been sure of it. But Vincent...
"Oh..." Tifa said in a small voice. Inside, she screamed at herself for being so blind to other people's pain, for being so selfish that she couldn't see what was right before her eyes.
Vincent's eyes were always sad. There was one reason for that. And that one reason meant that Jenova, even the smallest amount of her, existed somewhere, in someone.
"Vincent, I'm so... What are you going to do?"
He turned back to her. His eyes were tired, but dry. "What I have to do," he said. "What's right."
"Can you?"
He favored her with one of his sad, distant smiles. "There's no one else on the Planet who can, or who should."
Tifa felt herself flooded with guilt. Cloud would live, and Cloud would come back to Cosmo Canyon. Vincent had no such joy, and never would. Tifa deeply, viscerally regretted having exuberantly and triumphantly thrown her arms around him and pronounced everything all right in the world. Now she put her hands on his face and drew him down to her. "I'm so sorry," she said, and then kissed him chastely.
Vincent leaned his forehead against hers for a moment and nodded. "It's all right. She'll know it's all right, too. There is one thing I can do to make up for it, one favor, and the only one worthy of her." He pulled away from Tifa, took her arm in his, and began walking with her again. "I can give her the one thing she's always wanted. She told me that she never got to hold him, even once. Now she will."
In stunned silence, Tifa walked back to the Canyon with Vincent.
Sephiroth
The General looked over his shoulder to see the old woman (or the young Ancient, perhaps,) in the glade. There was a green, flickering flame in her palm, and her eyes looked tired. It wouldn't be long now.
Next to her, Vincent Valentine sat with his head resting against his arms, which were wrapped around his knees. His eyes were closed, and he looked almost peaceful.
But there was still work to do, one last mission before he could rest. Vincent had to finish this part of it, but it was Sephiroth who would begin it. He would find his past, confront it, and then lose it just as quickly.
Just as well, he thought. He glanced down at his hands, and saw the beginnings of tiny lines on them. Just as well. He could have years left in him, and the world had never quite been for him. The world was a place for the Turks and Avalanche, Tifa Lockheart and even, to an extent, Vincent Valentine. The world was a place for Cloud Strife, who fought in its name against anything circumstance threw at him. But it had never been for him.
Nor he for it, he supposed. It might do him some good to take her place here. He had always wanted, more than anything, to be left alone.
But first, to see her, speak with her, and touch her. Then she would have peace, too.
Resolutely, Sephiroth turned away from Vincent and the Ancient. Without fear, he faced the waterfall. With his back straight, he walked through it. It washed away daylight and the world behind him, and Sephiroth stepped into the dark, warm cavern, where his mother waited for him.
