Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is the sole property of the owners. All OC's belong to Ladygreensleevesd Ltd. All rights reserved.
No Advent Children spoilers are contained in this fic, just a lot of crazy theorizing on my part. So apologies if my explanations are a little off. But the evil plot bunny has his furry paws around my neck and commands me to write.
And yet we know:
Hatred, even of meanness
Contorts the features
Anger, even against injusticeMakes the voice hoarse.
Bertolt Brecht. 'To those born later'Chapter One: The Stolen Child.
She wondered what would have happened if she had obeyed her brother. Maybe she might have been able to clasp his hand in hers, his encircled fingers lending her strength as the two white-coated scientists approached. This was the second time today they had come to see her. It was always the same pair. Both men, one tall and fair the other dark. Arcangeli was the blond man's name. She didn't know the others. She didn't care. In her own mind she called them Scum and Bastard. It gave her a small bit of petty pleasure. They came to poke and prod her, to measure and examine. All the time never making eye contact or talking, just nodding their heads and making vague noises of approval over their notes.
She hated them.
Even though only twelve Airmid fostered the anger of one far older. It was an old women's hatred, strange to see on the face of one so young. It furrowed her brow and turned down the corners of her mouth. In the first week of captivity they had felt her fury. The child noted with grim satisfaction that the dark younger assistant still bore marks where her teeth had met the flesh of his face. When the examination was over she was returned to her cell. A circle of glass 3 metres wide and twice that in height was her holding pen. Meals were delivered in through a hatch and bathroom breaks were supervised. No books or any form of entertainment, just a pillow and blanket. The number on her cell and on the front of her plain white shift dress read '51'. Airmid was reduced to a simple number, her humanity stripped away. She felt like a piece of meat. Her captors were cold but not cruel, and she had never seen any of them strike their charges but now as Airmid lay between this glass prison and the bitter pills she was forced to swallow it was scant comfort.
Glancing around it was apparent that there were nowhere near 51 test subjects. Sixty was the maximum but only 30 or so cells were occupied. When she was first brought to the research center all those weeks ago the cells were full of children, of both sexes and all near in age to each other. All orphans, dirty, snot nosed and defiant. They screamed, cursed and pounded futilely at the glass with their small fists. After a week the rebellious streak in them died to be replaced by morbid acceptance and complacency. Stupid children, she thought, you accept your fate too easily. As the numbers dwindled she knew with a sinking feeling that they would discover her power soon, and the trouble of keeping it a secret would be great. They would use it to their own ends and she would be the cause of the destruction of the Planet. Or so Mamma had warned. Pushing the apoplectic thoughts aside Airmid permitted herself a small smile. Lets see them utilize her skills with only half her soul present. As long as she was able to keep her brother and his location safe it would be fine. It was all very simple in her child's mind. She would not be broken. By whatever means and for whatever means.
All the children were completely clueless as to what the scientists were looking for and what they planned to achieve. This secrecy was enough to convince Airmid that what they were doing was wrong. Espying a Shinra logo on the side of a box of equipment had ensured that. Seeing that symbol had fueled her hatred. It was their fault she lost her parents. Nurturing thoughts of revenge kept her going. Though she was wise enough to realize that these thoughts were slowly poisoning her sensibilities. She didn't care.
Airmid turned in her glass cage trying to make eye contact with her friend Number 49 just a few feet away. Though Number 51 had dismissed the other kids she had struck up on unlikely rapport with the curly haired girl. After a horrible day of pain when Scum had injected something into her and falling asleep forever had seemed like an attractive option she had glanced over at 49. To her surprise the girl give her a look full of compassion and breathing on the glass in her cell wrote 'It's okay' in the condensation. She had cheered up after that and they had continued to communicate this way. Her only friend and the only person that staved off the crushing loneliness that Airmid often felt. Wren was her name, but now Wren was asleep. Airmid wanted to do the same but a nagging feeling that when she woke up Wren would be gone overrode her tiredness. The scientists and researchers had been testing her friend more than usual these last few days. That in itself did not bode well. But when three silver haired men had visited yesterday and held an animated conversation outside her cell Airmid knew Wren did not have much time left. Children always disappeared after they had visited. To where she didn't know, but sometimes the lights would suddenly flicker then brighten and a low humming noise would fill the air. They were simply taken out of their cells and never returned. Airmid wished to scream at her friend to wake up, try and escape! However the cold reality of the impossibility of that task sank like a stone in the well of her spirits. There was nothing she could do. "Please brother, be safe. Please Wren, come back." At this she withdrew into herself and fell into a troubled sleep where Hades beckoned to her with bloody fingers.
It was the same nightmare. Trapped in her sleep unable to comprehend or breathe, the same voice whispering to her, brushing their consciousness against her mind. Tifa didn't understand what they were saying and it was this very reason that terrified her. She pushed them way and in doing so was suddenly aware of another presence within her. Calming and soothing, it was like a cool hand against her fevered brow. "Its okay, you can wake up now." A pause. Then more insistently, "I command you to leave her alone!" Tifa woke up with a wild start, tangling in the bedclothes. For a horrid moment she saw that there was a headless body in her room. But as her breathing slowed and her eyes adjusted to dawn's light Tifa discovered that it was her jumper, thrown, arms outstretched, across the end of her bed. She was in her tiny box room in the orphanage and everything was all right. "Easy. Nothing to get upset about. It was only a dream. Silly girl." Saying the words out loud helped calm her. Tifa disengaged herself from the sheets and padded over to the window. The sun was just rising over the ruins of Midgar, the heaps of junk casting grotesque shadows in the light. The curtain of light shone into Tifa's room turning her skin pink and giving her shoulder length dark hair a red cast. A "Reactor Morning" as Barrett would call it.
The orphanage looked out unto the city's main thoroughfare where an enormous cast of the Ultimate Destructive Magic, Meteor was raised. A timely reminder to the citizens of what they had endured. During the day the streets would be bustling as people went to and fro about their business. Yet Tifa saw the city in shades of gray and black. There was no colour and it would never be as lively as it was before. Too many lives were lost. The spark had gone. Rebuilding Midgar had been slow. The proper materials were unavailable and many of the city's craftspeople had died when the Sector Seven Plate came down and crushed them. Tifa shivered at the memory. She had been there. Cloud, Barrett and herself watching in disbelief at the whole scale carnage that President Shinra had wrought. The unsettling feeling that he had done it to destroy Avalanche and it was therefore partially her fault still persisted, no matter what Barrett said. Even worse was watching the entire city get demolished when Meteor came down. Standing on the deck of the Highwind, staring into the boiling pit of flames everybody had tried to distance themselves emotionally from the unfolding events. Cloud had said you feel less pain that way. Easy for him to say, he had being doing that his whole life. Tifa shook her head dispelling the thought. She was tired. That nightmare left her drained and upset. If the guilt she felt at the Sector Seven incident was bad then the sense of failure the party felt at being unable to stop Meteor ate at her like a canker. They had done everything possible. Defeated Sephiroth, obtained the Huge Materia and Aeris had activated Holy at the cost of her own life. Still death from above rained down. If the Lifestream hadn't contained most of the damage it was possible that the entire Planet would have succumbed to Midgar's fate. A knock on the door jolted out of her reverie.
"Who is it?"
"It's Siwan."
"Okay, come on in."
A woman Tifa's age entered and saluted. "Just to let you know that Shinra troops have being spotted not far from here. Barrett's ordered us to rendezvous at 5th street in 10… Shit, you look tired Tifa."
The other women just shrugged. "I'm fine. What's with the salute?"
"Just habit. All the kids are still asleep. Zan and Yuffie are currently up to their eyeballs trying to get enough breakfast for everyone."
Tifa imagined it was Zan that was having difficulties as Yuffie probably had her feet up on the table and was bossing him around.
Giving her an exaggerated salute Siwan disappeared out the door. Petite and red haired Siwan had originally been in the Shinra Corps. Tifa had wondered how exactly the Corps came to accept her due to her slight build. But when Siwan picked up a gun Tifa found her answer. Amazingly accurate, she was an exceptional sniper. After witnessing first hand the corruption of her employers she had deserted only to be caught, court marshaled and thrown in jail. Released after the downfall of Shinra, Siwan had joined their ranks five months ago and Tifa and she had become good friends. Even if the sniper was too bluntly honest with her feelings and thoughts sometimes.
Throwing on her clothes, Tifa bounded down the stairs. Two years gone and it was still business as usual.
'Business as usual' was Barrett's unending struggle with the Shinra. The company had reformed themselves with great alacrity despite so many of the top bigwigs perishing. They were now called 'Neo-Shinra', but their objective was still the same. Find the Promised Land and drain as much Mako as possible. And Avalanches' original goal remained as well: destroy them by any means possible.
The group was conferring in an alley off 5th street. Siwan gave her a smile while the party's leader and Kerr conversed over his laptop. Kerr was another addition to the ranks and a welcome one. An electronic and computer expert, he was indispensable especially in the new 'covert' style of warfare Barrett was using. Covert to Barrett simply meant using slightly less explosive when blowing up buildings. However Kerr had managed to convince him that it was also possible to cripple an enemy from the inside. Kerr was successful in infecting Shinra's computers with a fast spreading virus. The enemy however had suitable defense measures in place so the damage done was minor. But it was a small victory nonetheless.
Looking up the burly man spotted Tifa and swept his eyes over her pale face but refrained from saying anything. Kerr however didn't, "Jeez Tifa I could put a week's shopping in those under-eye bags!"
"You jes' shut up and keeping tracking them." Barrett smacked the younger man across the back of the head. He came and stood beside her, "You wondering where Mr. Life and Soul of the Party is?"
Tifa knew he wasn't referring to Vincent.
Cloud. He was off somewhere, alone apart from his thoughts. Cloud was never a very forthcoming person but in the years after Meteor he had withdrawn even deeper into himself. Tifa wished she could alleviate some of the guilt he felt, take it on herself and free him of the pain. She had told him as much. Cloud had given her a look that meant nothing but signified everything. It was his guilt, his failure; he didn't want her to be burdened. But Tifa already was. She realized that the black thoughts she'd been having were a reaction to her friend's sullen and brooding demeanor. It was hard not to get depressed in Cloud's presence. Tifa couldn't leave him now, he meant too much.
She kept her face and voice neutral when she answered Barrett, "No. I'm sure Cloud's fine. So what's today's mission? Why would we worry about a few Shinra troops? The city's crawling with them."
Barrett gave her a glance. "It's the manner that these guys are goin' about their business that's so suspicious. You know that warehouse right on the edge of town? Kerr's picked up an odd signal from it. As well, trucks and vans have been picking up cargo from there at all hours of the night. It's the secrecy of it all that pisses me off. Usually the Shinra make no secret of what there up to, knowing nobody can stop 'em Kerr had a helluva time trying to crack into their computer."
"You think it might be weapons?"
"That's what we're gonna find out. Siwan, Red, you and I are going to do a reconnaissance. Kerr's gonna be guiding us." He turned on the two-way radio at his hip. "Channel 29 Kerr."
"Got ya. Good luck." Kerr resumed tapping away at his laptop.
Siwan fell into step with Tifa as the group made their way to the edge of town using the back alleys for safety. "Don't know why Barrett insists on coming on recs. It's not like his bulk is easy to hide."
Tifa nodded. "I can't really imagine him silently blending into the shadows, or doing commando style rolls." The image sent Siwan into a fit of laughter.
"Shadowy and silent I ain't but when the going gets tough ye girls will be glad of me." Barrett shushed them. They had arrived at their destination. The party had crested a hill and the warehouse lay beneath them affording an excellent vantage point. They hunkered down in the bushes and watched. It reminded Tifa of an ants nest. A dozen trucks were being loaded up and heavily armed guards were swarming everywhere.
Siwan pulled out a pair of binoculars. "I can't see what the cargo is. Its covered in sheets. But it's in boxes which narrows it down to…anything really. Can Kerr pick up anything?"
Barrett shook his head, "Uh uh. He said the signal stopped before we arrived and he can't trace it, which means…"
"That whatever it was was loaded up into a truck." Tifa deduced.
"Exactly. So we're back to square one. Sneaky bastards. They're up to something big. And I'll be damned as to know what it is. Let's head back." He gave Tifa a lopsided grin. "Never know Cloud might be back by now."
Tifa didn't bother replying.
A scream jolted Airmid from sleep. It was Wren. She was being taken out of her cell. But not quietly as some of the others had gone. She was biting, kicking, fighting like a wildcat. An attendant had his arm around her waist, his head back trying to avoid the child's nails. But she was only a little girl and they were too strong. Airmid banged her fists on the glass, knowing that it wouldn't do anything, but hoping that it'd distract them. Those three silver haired men were there as well. The youngest was waving his hands around and seemed to be remonstrating with the scientists. Airmid couldn't hear what was been said. All her thoughts were on Wren who by this stage was slumped, defeated in the adult's arms, tears streaming down her face. But she didn't look afraid. Airmid for a moment was ridiculously proud of her. Wren held her gaze for a few seconds and gave a wan smile before being carried away to another room. Airmid knew that soon the lights would flicker and brighten, that the humming would start and that she'd never see her friend again. She was too numb for tears. She didn't even realize that the youngest silver haired man was standing outside her cell smiling down on her. His eyes were much too knowing. He spoke to Archangeli over his shoulder, "This child, this one, she'll be the perfect vessel."
Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
W.B. Yeats 'The Stolen Child'
Airmid is pronounced ARE-MID.
Siwan is pronounced SEE-WAN.
Suspense! Intrigue! Murder! Are but a few things this fic lacks! Seriously though if you've anything to say just press that lil ol' review button. Constructive criticism would also be greatly appreciated. And big kudos to Realtfarraige for all the help, beta-ing and with the names and pronunciation guide.
