Hi again! Sorry it's been a few months, I have no excuses. 😬 I have been straight-up been spending all of my free time paragliding or gardening, because: the wind is good, the plants are growing, and I am in the middle of a pear harvest. If anyone needs any pear recipes - pear butter, pear bread, dehydrated pears, pear cinnamon rolls - I got you.
Unrelated, I also adopted a cat. She's a menace, and I love her.
Shoutout to silver-doe287 for editing this chapter (and for the chapter title!), even though it's been months since the last one. She's the best 💙
Chapter Warnings: Violence, Language, Laboratory Descriptions (nothing more graphic than what has already been posted)
Tseng didn't often dream.
Though, to be fair, he likely didn't dream because he didn't often rest. Rest was a luxury similar to hot meals, idle days, and gentle touches, and so when he did sleep it was dreamless and heavy — a crash into unconsciousness, a stone thrown into the deep, rather than a feather-light descent. Waking was similar, in the sense that it was a sputtering rush into wakefulness rather than anything delicate, and the resulting disorientation would leave him blinking at the shadows in the room and twitching at the shifting curtains before he could recall where he was.
This time was no different.
One moment Tseng had been fading in and out of fitful awareness, one woven together with brief flashes of sensations: an elbow connecting with his face, a white-hot flicker of pain, hands pressing against his sides as he was lifted onto a gurney. He vaguely remembered wondering if it had been Hojo who had ordered him on the gurney. He also vaguely remembered thinking that there would be poetic justice in that, if Hojo had also used him for experimentation after how he had so completely failed Zack and Cloud, but then the darkness swallowed him once again and his memories abruptly cut off.
Then, just as suddenly, he found himself lying on a bed staring at a familiar ceiling. His eyes felt gritty, like sandpaper pulling against the grain, and his mouth was so dry that his tongue pressed flat against the roof of his mouth. But that wasn't what had snagged his attention.
I'm in the Turk hospital? he thought as he blearily stared at the unassuming, off-white ceiling.
Tseng's brow furrowed, because that was frankly impossible. He had just been in Hojo's laboratory. He had caught a flash of Cloud — Cloud, who was awake and walking, who had turned to him when he had called his name — but then…
He winced as his hand brushed against his temple, which now sported a tender bump on his forehead. What happened? He couldn't remember anything after he had seen Cloud. It was as if his memories had suddenly just… dropped off, ceased to exist, had been cut in two, and he was futilely trying to tie the two broken ends together.
"You awake?"
A sudden voice had Tseng looking to his side, grimacing at how his sore neck pulled, and he found himself looking at Reno. In a word, Reno looked… well, bad. His hand was thickly bandaged with gauze while his face sported a nasty bruise across one cheekbone. His suit was dirty, ripped in places, and flecked with dried blood. It was his expression that had Tseng stilling, however; in all of the years Tseng had known him, he didn't know that Reno could look so serious.
Tseng attempted to swallow past his dry throat. "In a sense," he croaked.
Reno's right eye twitched. Without a word he stood up and retrieved a cup of water, which Tseng gratefully accepted. "Good." His voice had an odd lilt to it; relieved, but not quite. "That's… That's good."
Tseng placed the now empty cup on the nightstand beside him. "What happened?" he asked, his voice less jagged around the edges.
"Rude and I received your order. Rude brought Tifa Lockhart to the holding cells, as you requested, while I aborted the plate drop mission to meet with you instead," Reno reported. He was speaking so blandly that he might have been a recording. "When I arrived at your location, I found Hojo's laboratory destroyed with you unconscious on the floor."
"And Hojo?"
"He wasn't there," Reno replied curtly, but after a brief pause admitted, "but I also didn't look very hard."
"I see."
A beat of silence passed between them, and then another. Tseng contented himself by staring at the ceiling — had that stain always been there? — before Reno harshly sighed. "With all due respect, sir," he began, tone clipped, his green eyes flashing as he raised his head, "what the fuck is going on?"
"Re—"
"And don't give me any of that secretive classified bullshit either," he snapped before Tseng could get a word in. "You asked us to search for those bomb materials, and we did. You asked us to team up with Zack, and we did. You asked us to look the other way when you killed Cissnei—" Tseng winced— "and we did. And this time," Reno pressed, his voice rising, "when you told us to drop a section of Midgar and kill off an eighth of the city, we were going to. Not because the President gave the order, or some executive needed it done or whatever, but because you asked. All of us — Elena, Rude, and I — would have dropped the damn plate for you, on the basis that you would have had a damn good reason to do something so against what the Turks were founded for.
"But then you told us to quit the mission," Reno continued, voice brittle and cold, "and then told us we had to split up for some reason, that we had to take some random slum girl to the holding cells while also meeting you at the laboratory for what I'm assuming was to save Zack — don't give me that look, I'm not a dumbass — and then when I finally get to the damn lab, I don't find Zack but I find you instead. Surrounded by dead bodies and lying in a pool of blood. Not yours," he added, cheeks flushed with anger. "I checked."
"Reno…"
"Don't Reno me," Reno snapped. "Just tell me what's going on. What's really going on, without the political bullshit and whatever, or I'll quit the team."
Tseng blinked, caught off guard. "You can't quit."
"Didn't stop Cissnei, now did it?" Reno stared at him with equal parts anger and betrayal, with a vulnerability that has no place in his eyes. Distantly, Tseng remembered the first time he had met Reno, a six-year-old boy barely younger than himself, with a gap-toothed smile and a biting sense of humor.
"You'll never be able to be a Turk with that attitude," Tseng had told him with an air of superiority, and Reno had replied with a raised middle finger and a sharp, "Fuck you, I can be a Turk if I want." Time had proven Reno right; in fact, Reno had been the top in his class and when he had told Tseng the news, he had flashed Tseng another middle finger as if to say, I told you so.
Reno was not smiling now. Instead, he looked like the rest of them did lately: tired, a bit haunted, with dark bruises beneath his eyes and skin paler than it had ever been. The last few days had been difficult for everyone. Some uncomfortable emotion twisted in Tseng's gut; maybe, in his effort to shield his team from the worst of it, he had made things far worse without meaning to.
"… All right," Tseng said, and leaned back in the bed with a faint sigh. If he was going to lead his team through hell, he might as well prepare them for the walk. "All right. I'll tell you everything."
Reno's mouth opened and closed in disbelief. "Wait, like, actually?"
"Yes," Tseng replied simply, and then he told him everything without leaving anything out: how he was fighting to put Rufus at the head of Shinra; his deal with Zack that, if the former SOLDIER took President Shinra out of the equation, he would grant Zack and his colleagues their freedom; how he hadn't killed Cissnei for her betrayal but instead helped lend to her escape. The moment Tseng fully relayed Cissnei's — Nobody's — current position, Reno buried his head in his hands and releasing a long, drawn-out breath.
"So she's alive?" Reno said, his voice muffled from his hands.
"Yes."
Reno lifted his head, eyes red-rimmed and damp. "And you were, what?" he choked out. "Going to keep it a secret forever?" When Tseng did not reply, Reno cursed under his breath. "So what are we to you? Decorations? Ornaments to keep around until you distract us with an easy mission? Children to babysit?"
Tseng's lips twisted. "You know I don't think that."
"Then what, Tseng?" Reno's hands curled into fists. "What am I supposed to think, when you're keeping so many damn secrets? I mean, Cissnei." He shook his head, jaw clenched and throat corded from strain. "You didn't even tell us that."
Tseng smiled involuntarily; it was a soft smile, hardly there at all, but Reno's shoulders lost some tension at the sight of it. "I'm sorry for worrying you."
"Fuck you," Reno half-heartedly replied. "Just… give me a mission, already. With all the details, even the damning ones. And don't give me some bullshit one either — I'm a Turk, damnit, not an infantry cadet."
Tseng's smile warmed a fraction. "All right. If that's what you want." With that he sat up on the bed a little straighter and continued, "This is what I need you to do…"
When Tseng had finished imparting his orders, Reno lightly bowed — a Turk tradition, which had Tseng's mind buzzing because Reno had never done such a thing before — before he left the room without a word, expression hard and mouth faintly curved in a smile. The moment the door swung shut behind him Tseng melted back into the bed, the tension bleeding from his shoulders. There was still so much to do, and he was positive he could find some coffee somewhere to help him keep going, but the thought of drinking yet another cup of coffee turned his stomach.
He sighed and let his eyes flutter shut. I'll worry about it as soon as I wake up, he thought as his awareness slipped, and then he knew nothing more.
Barret opened his eyes with a pained grunt. The ceiling spun above him, a kaleidoscope of whites and grays and gaudy reds that did nothing to help his splitting headache… or his split lip, he belatedly noticed when he tasted copper. On instinct he checked for other injuries. He experimentally twitched his fingers and toes, attempted to move his arms, strained to turn his head this way and that, and after all was said and done, he surmised that nothing was broken. The less good news was that he now had quite the collection of bumps, bruises, and scrapes, all of which hurt simultaneously in vaguely different ways. His temple in particular sported a nasty bruise, and he hissed when his fingers brushed against it. When he pulled his hand away, bits of dried blood flaked off his fingertips.
Lowering his hand, he thought, At least I'm still breathing. There was some measure of comfort in that segment; if he was breathing that meant he was alive, and if he was alive then he could fight. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be fighting again… and soon, judging by the color scheme and the fact that Shinra's gaudy logo, a bloody red diamond emblazoned with silver characters, was mounted on the wall across from him.
Which, speaking of… Fuck. He was in Shinra headquarters, wasn't he? His last memory before waking up was Scarlet doing something to Zack, Zack dropping like a stone, and then… and then a flicker of light, a roar of wind, a shrill ringing in his ears, and then nothing. He did not remember passing out.
Fuck, he thought, emphatically, before attempting to push himself upright. He managed to but only barely; the colorful spattering of bruises across the hard planes of his chest made the work difficult. It took him several strained minutes before he was able to prop himself up against the wall, and even then his vision swam from the effort. His muscles trembled from the strain. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He grimaced at the sour taste in his mouth, but as there was no sink to spit into, he ended up swallowing the accumulated saliva down.
Fuck, he thought again, just as enthusiastically as the first two times.
It only got worse from there.
Yes, he was alive — always a positive thing by his standards — but he was clearly in a prison cell, which filled him with far less warmth. The holding cell wasn't the worst prison he had ever been held prisoner in. At least the floor was clean, the mattress wasn't disintegrating in place, and he had a glass wall to peer through instead of metal bars. The room also smelled sterile rather than stinking of body odor and other bodily functions.
He also knew that this was only a temporary holding cell, as there wasn't a toilet or a sink that indicated a more long-term arrangement… unless Shinra really was that petty, which yeah they probably were, now that he thought about it. Fuck Shinra, he decided as he leaned his head against the wall, exhaling his frustration. Now what? Yet even as the thought crossed him mind, he couldn't help but wonder:
Where is everyone?
Then: Did anyone else make it with me?
Sudden horror choked his throat as he jackknifed upright, muscles and bruises protesting all the while, white-hot adrenaline spiking through his veins. He threw himself towards the glass wall that divided his cell from the larger room. His knees bumped against the hard floor. What if they were taken somewhere else? What if they were all kill—
He ripped out that thought by its root. It was too horrible to contemplate, to even imagine, and his shaky exhale fogged the glass as he peered outside. They had all promised to get vengeance on the Planet together, and they weren't the type to forget their promises… not to mention that Barret had promised them that he would keep them all safe, and he wasn't one to forget his promises either.
He opened his mouth, meaning to ask everyone to sound off, when he heard the distinct slide of a door being opened and a guard was suddenly shouting.
"Wh — Hey! How did you—"
But then the guard's voice abruptly went silent, and the silence would have persisted if it wasn't for the dull thud of a body hitting the ground and the sharp clang of a gun skidding across the tiles. Barret went impossibly still, chest tight — he knew what that heavy thud was, and he knew what it meant — and held his breath as footsteps echoed against the tiled floor. They were approaching his cell. Barret's pulse jumped as a shadow stretched across the glass, and…
"Mr. Wallace?"
… and Barret was suddenly reeling in confusion because a SOLDIER had stopped in front of his cell, and he could see his own stunned expression reflected in the other man's full-faced visor. "Good," the SOLDIER continued, either unnoticing or uncaring of Barret's shock. "You're already awake. That makes things easier."
"Makes what easier?" Barret did his best to stand despite his protesting ribs, though he had to lean against the glass heavily to do so. If he was going to get interrogated, he wasn't going to do it sitting down.
But then the SOLDIER surprised him by saying, "Getting you and your team out of here."
"Huh?" That wasn't what Barret had been expecting, and he could only watch as the SOLDIER held some sort of card in front of his cell. Sure enough, as promised, the doors slid open with a distorted hiss. A rush of cool air brushed passed his face as his closed environment equilibrated with the outer room's atmosphere.
The SOLDIER looked down to face him, and once again Barret found himself once again staring at his own guarded expression. "So you can stand," the SOLDIER said. "Good, that's already better than expected. You've been drugged, but it'll pass now that you're out of your cell. Take watch by the door once the worst of the dizziness passes. I'll open the rest of the cells."
Barret wasn't used to taking orders from anyone, yet he found himself stumbling to his feet regardless. "Your name," he managed to croak out. "What's your name?"
The SOLDIER paused halfway to the next cell. "Kunsel," he replied. "I'm a friend of Zack's."
"Figured you were, seeing as you're SOLDIER and all."
Kunsel's faceless helmet swiveled back to him. "You know Zack," he said, a hard edge to his tone. It wasn't a question.
The back of Barret's neck prickled. "Yeah, I know him. What's it to you?"
Kunsel made a low, non-committing sound as he returned his attention to the other cell. Barret thought that was the end of the conversation and was about to see if the rest of the team were here, but then Kunsel cleared his throat and asked, "So how's he doing? Zack, I mean. Has he been… all right?"
"Has he been all right?" Barret would have snorted if it wasn't for the fact he felt like he had been hit by a truck. "Sure he has. With Shinra destroying the Planet and their own fuckin' city, who hasn't been 'all right' these days?"
Kunsel's posture stiffened at the obvious sarcasm, but he chose not to respond, instead sliding open the next cell door to reveal an unconscious Tifa on the other side. Barret's heart twisted, but before he could ask, Kunsel was crouching beside her and pressing his fingers against her pulse point. "She's fine," Kunsel eventually said as he pulled his hand away. "Drugged like you were, but her pulse is strong. She'll wake up soon."
Cold relief coursed through Barret so strongly he felt his knees turn to rubber. "Good," he breathed. "That's… That's good."
Kunsel nodded his agreement before turning to another cell. "So, Zack," he uncomfortably began once more. "Is he okay? Be honest," he added before Barret could open his mouth. "We were — are — friends. I haven't seen him in a while."
The obvious hurt in Kunsel's tone had Barret's insides squirming. "Alright, alright, sure. Physically the kid is fine. He's like a tank, not that I'd ever tell him that."
Kunsel made a sound that could have been a laugh, if it hadn't sounded so choked. "And mentally?"
Barret's mind flashed back to the last time he saw Zack on top of the train: Scarlet looming over him like a snake scenting a mouse, all the while spitting words like venom: "You're not even an ex-SOLDIER really, not after what Hojo did to you. Maybe the term failed experiment would fit better, wouldn't you say?"
"I'm not sure how he's doing mentally," Barret finally replied, choosing his words carefully. He was suddenly very aware of how weaponless he was. "We worked together, briefly, but we're not exactly close. But… the kid has gone through a lot. More than he should have."
"…Yeah." Kunsel lifted the ID card to the next cell, his movements jerky. "Yeah, I've been hearing that lately." He then went silent, choosing instead to focus on checking on Jessie's unconscious form, before moving on to the next cell. "And Cloud?" he asked after a lengthy. "I've heard that he's part of your little group, too. Is he doing okay?"
Barret tried and failed to hide his wince. Making the conscious decision not to mention that he took Cloud on a bombing mission a few days after he had supposedly woken up from a coma, nor the whole mako-poisoning and hallucinating-he-was-a-SOLDIER issue, he answered, "Cloud's been through a lot, too." Then, to change the subject: "Didn't realize you all knew each other, though."
"Cloud was part of my regiment back in the day," Kunsel easily replied as he unlocked the cell door. If he noted the subject change, he was too polite to point it out. Barret liked him a little more for that. "He had always been one of the quieter ones, but more determined than most. Probably because he always felt like he had something to prove when he didn't, not that he would listen to anyone when they'd point it out."
Barret wouldn't assume that he knew Cloud very well, but: "Sounds like he hasn't changed much, then."
Kunsel stilled before nodding, a little more at ease than before. "Good," he said. "At least someone hasn't."
With that, he opened one of the final cells. This time, its occupant was awake. Biggs lifted his head and blearily blinked his eyes at Kunsel, his face a bit bruised, before slurring out, "I ain't tellin' you nothin', you vest-wearing helmet-headed… jerk face."
"I'm not here to interrogate you," Kunsel replied, sounding amused. "I'm helping you escape."
"Yeah?" Biggs replied. He attempted to rise to his feet, but one of his knees gave out and he sprawled inelegantly to the side. He hardly seemed to notice. "Well, 'oo bad, but I don't b'lieve you, you… tin-can head wi' a scary sword…"
"Biggs," Barret interrupted, and Biggs snapped his head towards him so quickly that Barret thought that he'd tear something. "Relax."
"Boss?" Biggs' voice was thick with emotion. "You're 'live?"
"What kind of dumbass question is that?" Barret scoffed. "Of course I'm alive. Why wouldn't I be?"
Biggs visibly sagged. "Good, good." He looked around the room, blinking as if noticing it for the first time. His expression pinched in confusion. "Wha… Wha' happ'nd? Last I 'member…"
"Scarlet," Barret deadpanned. He didn't feel the need to elaborate any further.
Kunsel momentarily paused as he opened the final cell. "My sympathies. She can be… brutal."
"Tell me about it," came a new voice, and Barret turned to see Jessie pushing herself upright. She winced as she rubbed her temple. "Fuck. My head feels fuzzy. Were we… Were we drugged? With… With drugs?"
"Yes," Kunsel replied with endless patience. "Your friend Biggs seems to be especially sensitive to it. Same with this one," he added with a lazy gesture towards an unconscious Wedge, who had been occupying the last cell. "It'll take them some time to fully come to."
"Time?" Barret wanted to scream; they didn't have time, they were imprisoned in Shinra's headquarters for fuck's sake. "How long?"
"An hour or two before they can hold a proper conversation, and at least a day to have full control of their limbs," Kunsel stated as he checked Wedge's pulse point. Seemingly satisfied by what he felt, he returned his attention to Tifa. Then he surprised Barret by turning towards him and asking, "This is Tifa, right?"
What's it to you? Barret wanted to demand, but he squashed his paranoia down by reminding himself that this SOLDIER just saved their hides… or, at least, he was in the process of saving them. They had been properly rescued yet, and the fact that they weren't yet safe and that he had to rely on a Shinra employee left a bitter taste on his tongue. "That's right," he finally replied.
Kunsel's demeanor seemed to soften, which… what? "Is that so," he murmured, then gently shook her shoulder. "Tifa. Tifa, you need to wake up."
"Be gentle with her," Barret snapped just as Biggs' squeaked out a shrill, "Don't touch 'er, she's Cloud's girl, no touching."
"I'm not hurting her," Kunsel told them before returning his attention to Tifa, "and I'm only checking her pulse. It's stronger now; as soon as she wakes up, which will be any second now, we'll move. I have our exit covered."
"What about Wedge?" Barret demanded.
"He's out cold and we don't have the time to wait for him." Kunsel's fingers tapped against his thigh, a nervous gesture that he didn't seem to be aware of. "We'll have to carry him out until he wakes up enough to walk on his own."
Barret wanted to ask why they couldn't just carry the both of them out, but considering how Biggs was just beginning to sit upright and Jessie looked ready to puke at any given moment… well, maybe there was some wisdom in getting as many people on their feet as possible.
A few moments later Tifa stirred.
Kunsel was leaning over her almost immediately. "Tifa," he said, his voice tight. "You awake?"
Tifa opened her eyes to a squint. "Cloud?"
Strangely, this had Kunsel chuckling. It was a sound far warmer than Barret thought him capable of. "Not quite," the SOLDIER replied, "but Cloud and I were friends, once."
That had Tifa surging upright, only to grimace and sway to the side. "I… I need to get to Cloud," she stammered, one hand braced against Kunsel's forearm and the other against the ground. She pushed herself onto shaky knees. "He's… He's… with Hojo…!"
"We know, and we're going to get him," Kunsel said, his voice soothing. "That's where we're going right now."
Barret was anything but soothed, damnit. "Hojo?" Jessie winced at his sharp tone and covered her ears. "Ain't Hojo the bastard that was after Cloud, or something? Wasn't there a bounty?"
"The one and only," Kunsel dryly quipped as he helped Tifa onto her feet, "and yes, there was — is — a bounty." Tifa stumbled, but managed to stay standing despite her trembling legs. "He has Cloud in the laboratory now, if Ciss… if Nobody's intel is still current."
Barret swung his head to peer at him. "You know this Nobody character, too?"
"I've known her a lot longer than you have," Kunsel told him, which wasn't reassuring in the slightest. "But that's not important. What is important is that we need to grab Cloud while Nobody and Aerith reach Zack. Then we reconvene at the recon point and get out of this city."
Barret nodded. Now this was a language he understood. No frilly bullshit, and no off-hand political agendas or power-play stupidity. This was a mission with clear rules. Rules that he could follow. Rules that he could win at, and if anything, Barret liked to win.
"So fill us in," Barret demanded, falling in step with Kunsel. Kunsel had been right earlier; his dizziness did fade rather quickly. "What's our first move?"
"First, we have to get everyone out of the cells in the chance that Nobody and Aerith fail their mission; or in other words, they fail to reach Zack in time. From there, we'll split up and —"
A sudden alarm pierced the air, cutting him off with a shrill,"Intruder alert! Intruder alert! Intruder alert!" The shrieking wail was accompanied by flashing lights, and the effect on the SOLDIER was immediate: Kunsel rocketed into action just as the cell doors began to slam shut, and it was only by his quick reflexes was Wedge dragged out of his cell in time. Barret, still recovering from being drugged himself, could only stumble forward and help get Jessie away from the closing doors, even though she didn't really need to help.
"Fuck," Biggs surmised miserably from the floor, his eyes squeezed shut and hands pressed against his head. Barret had to agree.
"What the hell is going on now?" Barret asked Kunsel.
"That," Kunsel replied dryly, "was Nobody and Aerith failing to find Zack. Assumedly."
Assumedly? "What the hell does that mean?"
Kunsel slung Wedge's arm across his shoulders, and he didn't seem bothered by the additional weight despite being a much slimmer man. "Zack's order was to assassinate President Shinra," he relayed as he made his way to the door, like he was discussing the weather. Barret's stomach flipped; Tifa made a punched-out noise. "But it looks like he got found out first."
Barret stumbled after him, with one hand gripping Jessie and Bigg's arm draped over his shoulders. Tifa followed behind, stumbling a bit but staying upright. "His order was to… When? How?" Barret demanded. "Now I don't know Zack very well, but I don't see him as the assassin-type."
"He's not," Kunsel replied. "And I'm not sure when he received those orders, but the how is the Turks." The SOLDIER made his way to the back of the room, the opposite direction of the hallway, before stopping in front of an unmarked door. He flipped out an unmarked identification card. "I don't know the full details. Nobody does, but that's not important right now — right now, we need to move, and quickly. The sooner we find and collect Cloud, the better this'll go for all of us."
Barret thought that this was a flimsy plan, but he wasn't exactly one to talk. "And Zack?" he asked as Kunsel forced the door and ushered everyone inside. The red lights flashed bright and bloody as he pushed it shut again. "What's the plan with him? We meeting up with him later or something?"
"Not our concern," Kunsel stated. "Let Nobody and Aerith worry about that."
They were in some sort of elevator now. It wasn't the elegant elevators from the main part of the building, the ones that were encased in glass and had a beautiful view of the city as it traveled the various floors. This one looked more like a supply chute, with white-washed walls and strange dark stains in the corners. It also had a scent to it, one that reminded Barret of formaldehyde and pickles, but he wasn't about to complain if nobody else was.
Jessie, who was still hanging in Barret's firm grip, blinked blearily at their new surroundings. "Where are we at now?" she moaned.
Kunsel punched one of the buttons, and with a sickening jolt the elevator began to move upward. Jessie's cheeks filled out as her face turned a sickly greenish shade; Barret's stomach rocked nauseatingly. Biggs whimpered, a pathetically sad sound. "This elevator leads straight to Hojo's laboratory," Kunsel answered, sounding almost sympathetic. "It's one of the ways that Hojo collects samples for his experiments."
Barret's gut twisted. "Samples?" he echoed.
"For experiments?" Tifa added, looking just as horrified as he felt. The elevator gave another swooping lurch as it got caught on something, but it steadily continued its upward ascent. Biggs pressed a shaking hand against his face. "You don't mean…"
Kunsel swung his head to look at them both, and though Barret couldn't see his expression, it was all too easy to imagine. "Hojo didn't want to drag his future experiments through the main buildings," he commented, tone clipped. "It's best if you don't think about it for too long. Nothing good will come from it."
"And how do you know all of this?" Tifa asked. Her voice was quiet, but there was a fierceness in her gaze that demanded an answer.
Kunsel turned his head back towards the ceiling, as if he could see their destination through the dirty metal. "I looked for Zack for a long time," he slowly began. "I didn't really believe that he was dead. There were just… too many inconsistencies in the final report, too many important details that were skimmed over, and too many questions left unanswered. So I started digging for the truth, because… well, just because. And while I was digging for the truth, I dug up some other things as well."
"Like this elevator," Barret surmised.
"Yes. If you look at Shinra Headquarters' original building plans, this elevator shaft is depicted as a large support column. But," he continued, his tone slipping into something bitter, "I also found out what really happens to the people that Shinra locks up. It's almost ironic, actually. When I joined SOLDIER, I knew that I'd be out fighting monsters. Figured it would be a little further away from home, though."
Barret's chest suddenly throbbed with a dull ache. He dutifully ignored it. "So why did you stay?" he asked.
Kunsel's turned towards him and it was disconcerting, not being able to see his expression. "Why did I stay with Shinra, you mean?"
"That's right," Barret replied, and he couldn't keep the sharp edge from his tone. "Why the fuck did you stay with an actually evil corporation when you could have left and done some actual good in the world? Just 'cause you're SOLDIER doesn't mean that you have to stay and be Shinra's lapdog."
"Why indeed," Kunsel hummed, which wasn't an answer at all. Still, it didn't seem like he was willing to part with any more information, so Barret made a sharp, impatient sound and leaned back against the wall. The entire elevator rattled as it bore his weight, and Jessie shot him a dirty look.
For a while, their slow elevator ride passed in silence. Eventually Wedge also woke up, though he was also confused and slurring his words as Biggs had when he had first woken up. It took Kunsel and Tifa several tries to get him up to speed, and even when they had, Barret wasn't sure if any of their explanations really stuck.
In fact… what the hell was Barret doing, allowing them on the laboratory mission? This was like Cloud's bombing mission all over again, except this time he knew Biggs, Wedge, Jessie, and Tifa weren't feeling their best. Hell, even he wasn't even feeling his best, not to mention that there wasn't even really a plan to begin with. Sure, Kunsel had said that they'd get into Hojo's lab, find Cloud, and somehow escape with him, but to do all of that alongside four borderline-incapacitated agents? Barret was no stranger to stupidity, but even that was a little more stupid than he was comfortable with.
But where else could they go? he wondered with a grimace. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back until it connected with the wall with a dull thud, one that did his aching head absolutely zero favors. The ground swayed beneath him as he thought: How can I make this work? As the leader, he was used to the important job of making up plans on the fly, and making sure they worked. That was a difficult thing to do when the majority of his team couldn't walk in a straight line, or in Wedge's case, stand without assistance.
Barret pushed himself off the wall again with a harsh sigh. They should be close to the laboratory by now, right? "So," he began, turning to Kunsel, "what's the plan for the laboratory? Like, the actual plan?"
Kunsel had been staring at his PHS, but he raised his head at hearing Barret's question. "What?"
"Cloud," Tifa cut in. "What's the plan to save Cloud?"
"It's not much of a plan," Kunsel admitted, and thereby effortlessly confirming all of Barret's worst fears. It must have been his SOLDIER training that made him appear so calm, because Barret was currently sweating through his shirt. "Hojo's laboratory spans two floors. We'll start with the lower floor, and if we don't find him there, then we work our way to the next one. As soon as we find them, we will reconvene with Nobody, Aerith, and… Zack." Hopefully was heavily implied. "Nobody will inform us of our next move then."
"You must trust this Nobody an awful lot," Barret stated, lip curling in a sneer
It wasn't meant to be a compliment, but Kunsel inclined his head regardless. "I'm trusting her for this."
"Is everyone here joining the laboratory mission?" he continued.
"Boss," Biggs immediately whined. "I can go, don' worry 'bout me. I'm… I'm great. I'm fannntastic."
Barret leveled him with a dry look. "Don't bullshit me, you can hardly stand. And what about Wedge, huh? You want to bring Wedge through that laboratory hellhole? I mean, look at him!"
"Hello, yes, present," Wedge mumbled from his spot in the corner.
Barret loudly sighed. "And Jessie," he began, turning to the woman in question. "How are you holding up?"
"Great." Jessie continued to hold her head, grimacing all the while. "Never been better. Why?"
Barret mentally checked her off the mission roster before turning to their final member. "And Tifa? You?"
Tifa pressed her lips into a thin line. "I'm going," she stated, and gave him a look that could have burst a lightbulb.
Barret frowned. "I didn't ask if you were going. I asked how you were feeling."
"I don't care, and it doesn't matter." Tifa's expression hardened. "You asked me to stay last time, and I'm not doing it again. I won't. I'm not going to wait around somewhere and wonder if you'll all be coming back. I… I can't do that again."
Barret had just enough self control not to flinch, but it was a near thing. Last time he had gone on a mission without her, Cloud hadn't come home. He was an idiot not to see the similarities now, and the fight immediately left him. Rare when that happened. "Okay," he finally relented, and Tifa faintly exhaled; clearly, she had been expecting more of a fight. "Okay, you're in. But the rest of you," he added, turning to the Wedge, Biggs, and Jessie in turn, "you all need to find somewhere to lay low. SOLDIER-boy, any ideas?"
SOLDIER-boy himself stiffened at the nickname. "A few," he said after a pause. The elevator banged against something at that exact moment, a harsh thud that had them all wincing. "But it doesn't come with any guarantees," he continued once everyone — well, mostly everyone — had regained their balance. Wedge seemed content to curl up on the floor. "Splitting up wasn't a part of the plan."
"You didn't have much of a plan to begin with," Barret pointed out. "You ain't fooling no one."
Kunsel minutely shook his head as if exasperated with all of them. For a long moment, the only sounds were the rattling elevator and Wedge's occasional groans. Then: "In Hojo's laboratory there's a disposal shaft, one that's only used to get rid of the failed samples. The ones too toxic to feed to his other samples, I mean," Kunsel corrected. "That may be an option."
Barret blanched. "Excuse me?" Jessie looked like she was going to be sick. Well… sicker.
"The disposal shaft should drop into a storage tank, which is emptied once a week," Kunsel explained. "With the proper tools you should be able to pry the vents open and—"
"Hell no," Barret interrupted. "My people are not going to be dropping into toxic decomposing sludge. Give me another option. Something better."
"The entire building is currently on lockdown," Kunsel enunciated, slowly, as if he was pronouncing new words to a toddler. "We have no options. We're lucky we made it this far, considering the circumstances."
Barret opened his mouth to vocalize his opinion when Tifa suddenly took a step in front of him, positioning herself between him and Kunsel. "Are you able to contact Nobody?" she asked.
Kunsel's shoulders tensed. "Yes."
"Can you ask her for her opinion? Please," she added when Kunsel's didn't move. "Maybe… Maybe, as a former Turk, she would know a different route than a SOLDIER would. Maybe she could escort them out of the building."
Kunsel watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable behind his mirror-like visor, before he curtly nodded. "I can do that," he said, and he immediately began to type out a message on his PHS. "Nobody doesn't necessarily have to join us in the laboratory mission; I have the necessary clearance to cover us, so it should be possible for her stay with the rest of your team and… somehow… get them out."
"That would be helpful," Tifa agreed.
Barret loudly humphed from behind her. "See, SOLDIER-boy? Now this is beginning to sound like a plan."
Kunsel, too busy typing out his message, didn't respond. But he did make a sort of choked sound that could have been a laugh, so Barret considered the exchange an overwhelming success.
Zack felt like a ghost.
The fine hairs of his neck stood on end as he followed Red XIII through the laboratory. He pointedly did not look at his now-empty glass cell, nor did he look at the acid-green mako bubbling in the tank, nor the table with all of the straps, nor the stainless steel tray that lay beside it, its contents overturned, needles and thin knives strewn across the floor like macabre confetti. He very pointedly did not imagine what all of those needles and knives were used for, what they had been used for, whose skin they had been peeling back and slicing into.
A shudder coursed down his spine, and Zack placed a hand on his bicep and dug his fingers into one of the many scars there as if to pry something out. Stay focused, he ordered himself, Sephiroth is here somewhere. But that reminder only had him stumbling against another onslaught of memories, each one more serrated than the one before it. The images were tripping over each other in their haste, a staccato of explosions behind his open eyes that tore through him like shrapnel — except no, not like shrapnel, but like embers; like white-hot embers rising up from the remains of a ruined town, the kind that left nothing behind but smoke and hollowed-out, blackened buildings and charred bodies. If he blinked, he could feel the ash weigh down his lashes like snowflakes. If he licked his lips, he could taste oil and rendered fat and —
"Are you all right?"
The sudden voice cut through Zack's thoughts and he just about flinched at the unexpected noise, but he was a SOLDIER and so he recovered quickly. Jerking his head in a half-aborted nod, he managed to choke out, "Never better."
Red stared at him until Zack shifted his gaze, and with a faint huff of acceptance he turned and continued to follow Sephiroth's scent. Zack had hoped that the scent would lead out of the lab, but clearly the gods hated him and couldn't even grant him that much. Each step they took led them deeper into the crazed network of white rooms and snaking steel pipes, and the deeper they went, the stronger the scent of musk and mako became. The collision of smells was dizzying. They made him want to sprint back the way they came, to punch a wall, to brace himself against a needle jab, to —
"We can take a break, if you wish," Red helpfully told him.
But Zack was already shaking his head before Red could even finish his sentence. "No," he hissed, because if they stopped now he wasn't sure if he could keep going. Except… Except he knew that he could, because he'd done his before, because he had to, because Cloud was probably here and Sephiroth was definitely here and he had to find at least one of them before they found each other. "Just keep going. Don't stop, don't you dare stop, we need to find him."
Zack was all too aware that he probably sounded manic, but Red only flicked one of his long ears, the one that wasn't scarred. "If it brings you comfort, know that I do not enjoy being here either."
"That's not comforting, that's common sense," Zack snorted.
"I suppose that is true." Red's tail swished behind him, a blur of red and gold. "Nevertheless, I hope it brings you some comfort."
Did the oversized dog even know what comfort meant? "Why the hell would that bring me comfort?"
"Because you would know that you are not alone," Red said, as if it was obvious.
It absolutely was not obvious. "What?" Alone? How does he… Zack turned to him, eyes flashing in the dim lighting. "What do you mean, alone? What are you saying?"
"I am saying that you are not alone, neither here nor in your feelings." Red sat down then, right in the middle of a particularly dim-lit hallway, which therefore forced Zack to stop beside him. "I also hate this place, and I also hate Hojo. Several times I wished to rip out Hojo's throat with my teeth whenever he strayed close to my cell. It would have been easy," he continued, "had the glass not been in my way."
Red sounded so disappointed that Zack choked on a laugh despite himself. "Well, who knows. Maybe now you'll get your chance."
"Yes," Red agreed. His lip curled up in a sort of grin, which showed off his elongated, yellow-stained canine. "Maybe I will."
Apparently satisfied with the conversation, Red stood back up and they continued deeper into the lab. It quickly became apparent that not some but all of the laboratory assistants had been cut down; most were slumped on the ground with snapped necks, but others looked as if they had been violently slammed into the wall. The papers they all seemed to have been carrying did little to soak up the blood, though their lab coats — once a startling shade of white — did a much better job.
Zack's grip tightened on his Buster Sword as his insides squirmed in discomfort. "How much further?"
There was a pause, then: "The scent is getting stronger," Red replied, his voice low and gravely. "We must be getting close."
"Good." He rolled his shoulders, stiff with stress, to ease some of the tension as they made their way towards an observation room. The room was large, bare, and overlooked a large space lined with mako tanks.
Dozens of mako tanks, each filled with to the brim with that ghostly green poison.
The sight of them hit Zack like a punch, his breath whooshing out of him with a strangled sound. If Cloud was in one of those… If Hojo had shoved Cloud back in a mako tank, and Cloud came back out of it catatonic… Oh, gods. Would he wake back up again? Could he? Could he even take another round of mako poisoning? No, no, no. Would he have to be hand-fed again, carried everywhere, have to be taken care of like a child? Would Zack have to talk to himself again and pretend that Cloud had been holding up his half of the conversation?
Visceral denial bubbled deep in Zack's gut. He wanted to throw up. He thought he would, as he stumbled to the glass wall and pressed his hands against it. He couldn't do that again, he couldn't, he —
"They're empty," Red said, and Zack startled hard at the sudden noise. "Do not worry," the wolf continued, his voice gentle as he plodded to Zack's side. "There is no one inside of them. See? They are empty."
Zack's gaze swiveled back to the rows upon rows of cylinders. Sure enough, they were all empty — nothing but empty vaults of glowing green goo — and he released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. The relief that coursed through him was so strong that it made him lightheaded, and he had to brace himself against the wall just in case his knees gave out. "Good," he managed, voice small. His mouth tasted sour, like bile and blind panic. His ears rang. "That's good. Fuck Hojo."
"Fuck Hojo," Red solemnly agreed.
Zack's lips twitched into what generously could be considered a smile, but he didn't have the strength to keep it there. He couldn't remember ever feeling so tired before, so worn down and raw — except yes he could, how could he have forgotten, he'd been through far worse than this — and he finally stood fully upright. "We need to keep moving," he said, and his voice sounded faint even to him. Damn. Pull yourself together, Zack. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can leave."
"Agreed," Red said, and he turned with a swish of his tail. His tail's flame seemed to be burning brighter than it had been, and now that Zack was looking, the fur along his spine was also lifted — in fear or aggression, he wasn't sure. But he could make a solid guess.
Just like that, something slid into place within him, a piece that had been out of alignment ever since Tseng told him that Cloud was in the lab. "Hey," he tried, stepping forward. Red glanced at him, his mouth opening in question, only to snap shut with a muffled noise when Zack reached towards him and rubbed his head. His fur was surprisingly soft. "Relax," he continued, giving Red's head one last good tussle before lowering his hand. They both pretended that it wasn't shaking. "We'll both be getting out of here. Obviously."
Red merely blinked at him for a moment or two, fur mussed and ears twitching, before he abruptly turned away. "Obviously," he echoed. "And you had told me that you were dangerous and unhinged."
"I am," Zack immediately replied, because it was true, he was. He was a danger to himself and others, and he certainly wasn't the most stable at the moment. "But… about earlier, when I, uh, snapped at you. It was a bad time." Still is, he nearly added, but he figured that no one would appreciate him pointing out the obvious.
Red inclined his head. "I do not blame you for trying to protect yourself," he replied, a generous statement.
"Even if I almost gutted you? Or left you in that cell?"
"I knew that you wouldn't."
"Oh yeah? How?"
"Your eyes," Red hummed. "You have kind eyes."
For some reason, that had Zack going momentarily speechless. Me? Kind? He wasn't sure if he'd ever received that sort of compliment before; usually, his compliments tended to veer towards the energetic, optimistic, or funny category, and he wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. "Uh… Thanks, Red. You're not too bad yourself."
"No gratitude is required. I speak the truth."
Zack grimaced. Truth, huh? Maybe once upon a time that was true. Maybe he had been kind before, when he was younger, as well as arrogant and soft and gullible and stupid. But he could forgive that kind, naive boy who trusted in his superiors, who blindly followed their orders, who wanted to become a hero and save the world simply because that was a good and right thing to do. That boy didn't know any better. The world hadn't beaten him down quite yet; hadn't proven that
It was much harder to forgive the present him, the one that blindly followed Tseng on the promise that Cloud would be saved. Hadn't he learned his lesson by now? Didn't he know that if he wanted something, he had to get it himself?
He sighed and carded a hand through his hair. His fingers viciously tore at the tangles. "Let's just… keep going. The sooner we find Sephiroth, the better."
Red nodded before asking, "Why do you wish to find this Sephiroth?"
Finally, an easy question with an easy answer. "Because Sephiroth needs to die," Zack replied, his voice sliding into something hard and cold.
"Why?"
"Why? Because he —" He ruined my life, Zack nearly said, but that wasn't quite right. He had ruined his own life; Sephiroth had simply been the catalyst. "He ruined my friend's life," he amended. "Burned down his home and nearly killed him, as well as plenty of others."
The following silence was broken only by Red replying, "I'm sorry to hear that."
Zack's chest tightened painfully, an aching burn that wrapped around his lungs. "Yeah," he managed. "Me too."
The two continued in silence after that, a heavy sort of silence that thundered through Zack's veins like a beating drum. The scent of mako was growing stronger. Every one of his breaths felt strangled, each inhale cut off abruptly as if choked, and it was an effort to remember to continue breathing: in and out, one after the other, a steady rhythm that forced his erratic pulse to calm.
It was an exercise in futility. Each step deeper into the lab, each second spent passing more bloodied white coats, more dents in the walls, and more cracked glass windows, was another second his mind spent spiraling downward. What would happen after he found Cloud? —And he would find Cloud because not finding him was not an option, he refused to contemplate it, he would not leave the lab until they were reunited. Would they be back on the run? Would he have time to say goodbye to Aerith?
Her name blossomed in his mind with a burst of warmth, but that flicker was immediately doused with the realization that no, he probably wouldn't have time, and even if he did it would be stupid to see her. He already had a target on his back a mile wide. Seeing her again would be selfish, would do her a disservice that could — would — ruin her. He wouldn't be the one to do that to her. He refused.
Maybe, one day, he could selfishly find her again and apologize. He shouldn't — he knew that. He certainly didn't deserve her forgiveness, not from before and definitely not now, but… but she had kissed his scars, had told him that he was worth something, and that she loved him. He knew that she meant every word — Aerith never said anything that she didn't mean — but would that be enough? Could her kindness outweigh every wrong thing he's ever done?
At one point, before, he would have immediately said yes. Aerith was the kindest person he had ever known after all, but he had come to realize that everyone had a breaking point. How far could he push before she decided that he was too much effort? How much further could he go before she decided that she didn't have the space to deal with his issues after all, that this — and everything that lay between them — was all some sort of cosmic mistake?
A sudden, distant bang and following shower of broken glass snapped Zack out of his thoughts, a small mercy, and he found himself staring at an elaborate door without remembering the walk there. Unlike the many observation, incubation, and equipment rooms they had passed, this door was marked by a clear biohazard symbol flanked by a biometric security scanner. If it had been operational, their journey through the labs would have ended there.
Except it wasn't. The scanner had been smashed and its screen rendered useless, while the door itself was knocked ajar with five clear dents along its outer edge. The closer Zack looked, the more those dents appeared to be made by fingers; clearly the door had been forced open.
Red jerked his head through the broken door. "Through there," he said gruffly. The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end, and his tail aggressively swished back and forth. "But there is… something else in there," he continued, his voice faltering. "Something that smells of decay. Of death."
"Everything here reeks of decay and death," Zack pointed out.
"This is different than the dead assistants," Red countered. "This scent is… different. Foreign, organic, decaying and yet… not. It is something other. I do not recognize it."
Zack grimaced; he wasn't entirely sure what Red was going on about, but it certainly didn't sound good. "Fantastic," he dryly commented, and Red leveled him with an unimpressed look. "It doesn't matter what else in in there. If Sephiroth is that way, then that's where I'm going. But you don't have to stay with me," he added as he turned towards the flame-tailed wolf. "Showing me the way was enough. You saved me a lot of time by your own initiative, so… thanks, for that."
Red stared at him for a moment before snorting, an inelegant sound. "Even if I left you here — which I would not do — where could I go? I do not exactly blend in, as one would say. Shinra soldiers would accost me the moment I stepped outside."
Zack cringed; that thought hadn't actually occurred to him. "There may be a way…"
"Enough," Red interrupted, and Zack's jaw snapped shut with an audible click. "It is true that whatever lies beyond that door unnerves me, but I would not abandon you to your fate. We will continue together and leave this place together."
"Think about it for a sec," Zack interrupted. "Sephiroth is crazy. He's insane. There's a… There's a very good chance you could die if you came with me," he admitted. A bleak chill shuddering down his spine. "Is that really what you want?"
Red's expression flickered between amusement and something more pained. "In this place, it does not matter what I want. All that matters is what I can do and what I cannot do. And I can help you," he continued, "if you so wish."
An uncomfortable feeling churned low in Zack's gut, but was he really in a position where he could refuse help? He wasn't exactly at his best right now. Hell, he probably hadn't been at his best for years.
"All right," he finally replied, and his stomach twisted at the admission. What was more blood on his hands anyway? "I… Thank you. Really. You can still back out if you want," he added, just to alleviate some of the guilt. It didn't work.
"Nonsense," Red replied before taking a step back from the door, a clear invitation. Zack swallowed past the hard lump in his throat before pushing the door open, only to wince when it squealed backward on uneven hinges. The piercing sound ricocheted down the hallway and into the dark room beyond.
The room wasn't what Zack had been expecting. Considering the biohazard sign, he was expecting some sort of specimen storage room: metal-barred crates stacked to the ceiling, maybe some sort of chained monster huddled in an isolated corner, and most definitely a few tables with dissection tools placed neatly beside them.
He was not expecting to see three additional mako tanks placed against the far wall, the middle being both the largest and the only one that was occupied. The tanks' muted, green-tinged glow was the only light source in the room and cast everything — from the maze of tubes that fed them to metal railing that divided the observation area from the main floor — in a ghostly glow. Bodies were littered across the floor. The air was choked with the scent of blood and rust, but most overpoweringly was the coppery, ozone-scent of mako. It was strong enough for Zack to stifle a gag while Red shook his head back and forth recklessly, completely overwhelmed.
It quickly became apparent why: the sound of shattered glass Zack had heard early had very obviously come from the center mako chamber. Mako, bright green and glowing, poured out from the center hole and dribbled out the cracks that spiderwebbed around it. The damage warped whoever was behind it, and for one split second Zack saw the vague shape of a person and thought that it was Cloud in there… that Cloud was the one trapped and suspended in that glass coffin.
But then his gaze dropped just a few feet lower, and that notion fled his mind in favor of something far, far worse.
Staring back at him, with slitted eyes soaked in luminescent green, was Cloud. There was something cradled in his hands, something mostly round and lumpy, but Zack hardly noticed. The air had left the room in a great, sweeping whoosh. His ears wouldn't stop ringing.
"That's him," Red hissed with hackles raised and teeth bared. "The one you call Sephiroth."
Cold sweat pearled on Zack's temple and trickled into the collar of his shirt. "No," he said hoarsely when he found his voice. Cloud didn't so much as blink. "No, that's not… He's not Sephiroth. That's… That's…"
Cloud tilted his head to the side, and… oh, his hair wasn't wet from the mako but from blood. Blood was splattered across his hair and his pale face and coated his hands, hands that were currently holding not a vague object but a head — a severed head — like it was something precious. Mako dripped from its lank hair onto the floor. Its skin, moist and buttery-smooth, was tinged blue.
Cloud dragged his thumb across its cheek, a soothing gesture, and Zack made a choked sound. He was idly aware that the Buster Sword slipped from his grasp and hit the floor, hard and loud enough that Red startled beside him, but he hardly noticed. "Cloud," he began in what was meant to be a soothing tone, but it only sounded dry and raspy and half-strangled. "Cloud, please, it's me. It's Zack."
Cloud cocked his head to the side, pupils dilating and contracting like a heartbeat. Sephiroth had those same eyes, once.
Zack thought he was going to be sick. "Cloud, Cloudy, everything is going to be okay," he stammered, taking a small step forward. "It'll be okay. Drop… Drop the, ah, drop the head and let's go, okay? Let's leave, we need to get you cleaned up anyway, all that mako can't be good for you. You can't have Tifa see you like that. You remember Tifa, right?" He was rambling, he knew that he was rambling, but he couldn't stop. Words slipped past his lips like vomit, and he was helpless against it. He continued, "She's waiting for you, we all are, so how about you drop that thing and we can leave. Yeah, Cloudy? How does that sound? We'll leave, get you a hot shower and some food, and then we can hit the road again. That doesn't sound so bad, does it? Right? Cloudy?"
He couldn't stop talking, but he was also taking small steps forward and Cloud still hadn't moved away from him, so that made it okay. The fact that Cloud wasn't running away was important, wasn't it? It must be, and yet Zack still felt like he had been cracked open, like his ribs had been pried apart and something had been ripped out of his chest. With the way it hurt, he was half surprised that it wasn't his blood pooling on the ground.
"Cloudy. Cloudy, please. Please, don't…" He wasn't sure how to end that sentence. All he knew was that he couldn't get enough air into his lungs and that he vaguely felt like crying. His eyes stung. Maybe he already was. "What happened, buddy? Huh? What… What did he do to you? Or maybe don't answer that, don't even worry about it, it'll be okay, I promise, everything will be fine. We'll fix this. We fixed it before, right? So it'll be okay, Cloudy. Everything will be okay. I'll make it right."
Cloud cocked his head the other direction, his pupils dilating feverishly… and then they flickered back to blue, a sudden shift that had Zack freezing in place. "Z… Za… ack?"
The relief that coursed through Zack nearly sent him to his knees. "Yes, yes, that's me, that's right, it's Zack." He took another lurching step towards Cloud, one hand already straining towards the smaller man's shoulder. He pointedly did not look at the thing that was cradled in Cloud's arms, or the blood stains on his thin hospital gown, or anything like that. He… He just couldn't, right now. "Everything is fine Cloudy, you'll be okay, we're going to leave right now and go somewhere better," he continued in a ramble. "How does that sound? Does that sound okay to y—"
His voice broke off as his breath was suddenly punched out him.
What?
He leaned forward, suddenly sluggish, and opened his mouth to keep talking… except all he could do was cough, a bubbling sound, as a cold pressure dug deeper into his gut.
Was… Was I just…?
"Cloudy?" he tried, but the word came out hopelessly warped as sticky warmth spilled out of his parted lips. There was a twist inside of him, one that had him wincing, and the cold pressure suddenly shifted to pain, a white-hot agony that had him gasping despite himself. He quickly grit his teeth against it — I'm fine, this is fine, I've been through worse — but it was becoming more and more difficult to convince himself of that, especially after his gaze dropped to his stomach.
Cloud's hand was buried to the wrist in his guts. Suddenly all of those dead lab assistants made a lot more sense; no wonder there had been so much blood.
"Za… ack," came Cloud's small voice, and Zack flicked his gaze up on instinct. His vision was rapidly darkening along the edges, like ink spilling across a page, and in the center he watched Cloud's struggle to look at him, to form words, as his eyes flickered from green to blue and back again. "Is… This ca — can't be…" His features screwed in pain. "Za... ack. Is... Is this r—real?"
Zack was suddenly thrust into the past, right when he and Cloud had just reunited after they had been separated in Midgar. Shinra infantryman had been pointing guns at them, a familiar scene, while Cloud could only stare at Zack in equal parts confusion and horror."Is it really you?" Cloud had asked him. "You're… You're real?" And Zack remembered replying, "Yeah, Spikey. Of course I am."
Now Zack forced his lips into a smile, one that he couldn't feel, and struggled to lift his hand towards Cloud's face. He saw, rather than felt, his fingertips brush against Cloud's cheek; he saw, rather than felt, Cloud flinch against the feather-light touch.
"Of course it's not," Zack murmured, but the words came out burbling and wrong and blood was dripping down his chin. "Of course not."
Cloud's expression smoothed in relief. "Oh," he whispered, quiet and thin, "that's good," and then his eyes flickered back into green and he jerked his hand out of Zack's stomach. Zack heard a wet sound, a strange howl from somewhere behind him, and then he was suddenly sprawled out on the floor with no recollection of how he got there. Mako pooled warm and sticky against his cheek. When he blinked, his eyelashes brushed against the liquid. He tasted something sour on his tongue.
"Goodbye, Zachary," came Cloud's voice… except Cloud never called him Zachary. Only Zack.
But, Zack realized in mounting horror, Sephiroth has always called me Zachary.
He heaved a hitching breath and struggled to raise his head, a monumental effort that sent stars spinning dizzily in his vision. His lips bared back in a bloody snarl. "Y… Y… You."
Cloud — no, Sephiroth — sharply smiled as his slitted eyes narrowed in a grin, but his face then disappeared behind a black shadow. He blinked, and… and that was no shadow but the bottom of Cloud's boot, he could see the mako and blood dripping down its treads. What was he…
Without warning the boot descended on his temple, and Zack knew nothing more.
I know that cliffhanger is stunningly terrible of me, so I'll do my best to get the next chapter out ASAP! I'll even try channeling the energy I had when I started this fic. Like, remember when I posted the first five chapters within hours of each other? Or when I was publishing one chapter a week? ...Yeah, me neither 🙈 But I'll make an attempt.
You can find me on twitter at Rand0mSmil3z - chapter previews are always posted there first. I'll also maybe post previews when I'm asked nicely (emphasis on nicely.)
Until next time! 🌻
