Hi, everyone! Sorry for the delayed update. Life has been hectic the past few weeks. I started two new jobs, my long-distance partner (safely) visited for some much-needed snuggle time, and I've been soaking in the last days of summer. Life will probably continue to be busy over the next month, so I might need extra time between updates. The entire fic's skeleton is written - I just need to flesh it out! I hope you all are doing well and enjoy chapter four! Thank you all so much for your kind reviews and favorites! They mean the world to me and keep me motivated even when life gets busy!
"Hey."
You're covered by a thick blanket of darkness. Your body is lead. Your mouth is cotton. Your brain is mush.
"Hey!"
You try to swallow. Your tongue scrapes like sandpaper against the roof of your mouth.
"Wake up! C'mon, wake up."
Your eyes are gummed shut, but you manage to pry one open. You shut it immediately. As faint as the lights are, they're as brilliant as suns to your sensitive eyes. It feels as though a nail is being driven through your skull. Maybe ten nails.
"Get up! Someone's coming!"
That gets a reaction out of you.
Body tensing, you force your eyes open. Your cheek is pressed against the cold, cement floor. Your joints are frozen stiff. You push yourself into a seated position.
Your heart skips a beat when you realize where you are. In the lab? Why…?
Oh. Oh.
Your memories rush back, distorted and jumbled as if they happened to someone else, not you, but it was you who got black-out drunk, stumbled to the lab, and nearly released two of Shinra's most classified specimens. What the hell were you thinking?!
Zack's voice snaps you back to the present.
"Stand up! Come on!"
Your neck screams as you wrench it left to meet Zack's gaze between bars. Cloud is just behind him, staring at you with the same intensity, despite his left eye being swollen shut.
"Do you understand me?! Someone is coming. Get up!"
You can't hear anyone, but you push yourself to your feet. Your legs are numb, dead bricks of flesh beneath you. You stumble.
"Open the door." Zack hisses.
You still feel the alcohol in your system, but you're no longer drunk enough to ignore the warning bells sounding in your head. If you let them go, you die. Simple.
"I…"
"Open it." Zack repeats. You've never heard that much desperation in anyone's voice before. "Please. Please. You want out too, right? We'll get out together. I'll protect you."
"…I…"
Just then, you hear the footsteps Zack's sensitive ears picked up long before you.
"Open. The. Door."
You're paralyzed.
"Open it!"
You wait too long and the decision is made for you.
"…you're up early."
It's Dom.
Zack's face collapses in despair. He and Cloud pull away from the bars to retreat to the back of the cell. Cloud tucks himself in the shadows.
You clear your throat and taste stale whiskey on your breath. You hope Dom can't smell it. "Umm, yeah. Couldn't sleep…"
"Uh-huh." he says flatly. "What are you doing down here?"
"Uh…"
Dom raises his eyebrows expectantly. There are bruises under both of his eyes and his nose is bandaged. Clark must have patched him up.
You clear your throat again, more to give yourself a moment to think of a lie than out of actual need. "…I wanted to make sure the door was holding, that's all. I'm still worried about that wire." Dried saliva tugs at the skin of your cheek, matching a pool of dried saliva on the floor. You drag the back of your hand across your face to scrub it off.
"That? The wiring is perfect now. But I get it. I don't want 'em getting out either."
"Scared because you know you can't take us in a fair fight?" Zack sneers from the back of his cell.
"Oh, I know I don't stand a chance against you." Dom replies easily. "That's why I'm glad we've got these." He taps the controller on his belt. "Levels the playing field a bit. Blondy, on the other hand…"
"Seemed to manage just fine yesterday." Cloud says, projecting confidence, but you detect the faintest tremor in his voice. "How's the nose?"
Dom scowls. "You caught me off guard, that's all. Didn't think a skinny twig like you could put up much of a fight. Next time."
"Next time I'll break something else."
Dom's laugh is short and hoarse, like a dog's bark. "Yeah, sure, kid."
"He means it." Zack says. "And I do too. You keep away from him."
"Goddamn, you two are prickly. I'm just doing my job. Speaking of which, I've got things to do. I'll see you later." He winks at Cloud and saunters down the hall. He looks back over his shoulder at you. "Coming?"
"Uh…yeah."
Zack tries to catch your eye, perhaps in a last-ditch attempt to get you to open the door. You resolutely keep your eyes on the floor and leave them. You hear the sound of Zack's fist hitting the bars behind you.
It's 6:15. You've got forty-five minutes to shower, scrub the taste of alcohol from your teeth, and change into clothes that aren't rumpled from spending the night on concrete. At 6:57, you grab two pieces of bread and a mug of coffee from the kitchen and sprint downstairs. You stuff the bread into your face in the most dignified manner possible, but it's dry and gets stuck in your throat. You choke and wash it down with coffee. Julia eyes you with contempt.
No longer caught in the rush of trying to get to the lab on time, the realization that you nearly released two highly classified specimens smacks you in the face. What the fuck were you thinking?! Your hands start to shake as your brain projects scenarios of what could have been. You could have let them go and Zack could have killed you. You could have let them go and Shinra could have killed you. You could have let them go and Hojo could have made you take their place. You could have let them go and become a fugitive yourself. You stuff your hands into your pockets to hide how badly they're shaking. You take long, deep breaths to steady yourself.
Yet, underneath the fear of what could have been, is the regret that you didn't let them go.
Hojo pokes his head out of his office long enough to remind everyone that today is his important call with the President. There's a thread of tension in his posture that undermines his usual, self-assured tone. The President is expecting a damn good explanation of why Sephiroth fell to a common infantryman, and Hojo doesn't have one. There's absolutely nothing special about Cloud. Hojo will just have to hope that the President buys his vague "undefined quality" bullshit and gets excited enough about Hojo's plans for Cloud and Zack to ignore his recent failure.
None of you are allowed to sit in during the call, so you're all stuck preparing the gym facilities where Cloud and Zack's physical performance assessments will take place. Although the space is fully equipped with treadmills, weights, weaponry, and a Shinra VR combat simulator, the machinery is several decades out-of-date and needs to be replaced. Hojo wants everything pulled from the room and stuffed into the catacombs. Normally, you'd think that professionals specializing in moving heavy equipment would be more suited to this work, but since no outsiders are allowed into the lab, you, Julia, Clark, Dom, and Barnes get the pleasure of wrestling the equipment instead. Clark curses when you drop your end of the treadmill on his toe. You apologize profusely, but lose all sympathy for him when he wedges your fingers between the treadmill and the wall. After a fierce struggle, you finally load the treadmill onto a cart.
Nursing your throbbing fingers, you grab the cart's handles to help Barnes take the treadmill to the catacombs. Something stuck to your sleeve catches the light as you roll the cart out of the gym. It's a long, silver hair.
Clark stays behind to help Julia and Dom load the next treadmill onto another cart. Since arriving at the mansion, you've avoided the catacombs at all costs, so it's with no small amount of trepidation that you follow Barnes through its shadowy entrance. The catacombs are as ominous as you expected. Construction lights are placed at regular intervals throughout the space, but even they aren't enough to fully illuminate the deep shadows of the rugged, stone walls. Tunnels reach out like fingers in every direction, lined by stone sarcophaguses that stand guard on either side.
"Do you know where to go…?" you ask Barnes, hoping that he can't hear the tremor in your voice.
"Yeah, this way."
You follow him, pushing the cart from behind as he pulls from the front. Your footsteps echo strangely off the uneven walls, occasionally making it sound like there is someone behind you. Rats scurry underfoot, eager to get out of your way. Barnes swears and punts one twenty feet after it scampers onto his foot.
He leads you down one of the many winding tunnels until the narrow hall opens into a yawning cavern.
You learn right then what happened to the other Nibelheim survivors. Rows upon rows of mako tanks surround you, each one containing a person. There's a woman with gray hair. A boy who still carries baby fat in his cheeks. A girl with freckles across her nose. A man with calloused hands. You stop dead in your tracks.
Barnes grunts, caught off guard by the sudden increase in weight he has to pull. He looks back at you, irritated.
"What the he-…oh. First time seeing them?"
"I…I didn't know." you whisper, your eyes are glued to the survivors. One still has soot on his chin from the fire.
Barnes grimaces. "Yeah, there's about fifty of them. Shinra couldn't have any tattletales. They're in stasis until Hojo decides what to do with them."
"Why are you here, Barnes?" The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it.
Barnes looks away. "Does it matter? Stay out of my shit, I'll stay out of yours. Let's set this thing down.
You help him unload the treadmill and rejoin the others.
You lose track of how many trips it takes to empty the gym, but each one of you is barely on speaking terms with one another by the time you're finished. No one escaped the day without being called an unkind name or without returning the insults in kind. You're sweaty, bruised, dusty, and beyond ready for a shower, so you make a beeline for the stairs as soon as the carts are put away.
Hojo intercedes you before you can even leave the lab.
"My office. Now."
Your heart freezes in your chest. You know exactly what this is about. With feet made of lead, you step into his office. The door shuts behind you with a snick.
Hojo motions for you to sit. You do. He takes his own place behind his desk. The jar containing Cloud's mother's eyes sits on the corner. They stare up at you. You try to not stare back.
Hojo angles his computer monitor towards you. The screen shows an image of you lying unconscious by Cloud and Zack's cell. Your insides grow cold.
"Sir…I can explain. I…I was worried abo-…"
You're cut off as Hojo strikes his keyboard to play the security camera footage. You wince as you watch yourself stagger into the frame and go sprawling in front of Cloud and Zack's cell. Your drunken rambling is barely coherent, interlaced with sobs and hiccups. It's incredibly pathetic. You listen to Zack's quiet pleading. Your hesitation. Then your agreement. It's damning footage made even worse when you lurch towards the control panel, arms outstretched to the point of throwing you off balance. You go down hard, your head smacks the concrete, and you lie still. Hojo stops the video. You sit stiffly in your chair. There's nothing you can say to defend yourself.
"I would have thought that our conversation last week would discourage any rebellious inclinations you might have." Hojo's voice is ice.
"Sir, I'm- "
"Sympathetic to our test subjects, I know. You're not my first employee to have difficulty removing your emotions from work. You're not even the first to attempt freeing test subjects. I've dealt with it all before."
"What…what happened to those employees?"
"It depended on them, as your future depends on you. If you think you can control yourself, then you may continue working for me. I stand by what I said last week. I have neither the time nor patience to train a new employee, especially given that the President just approved our project, and you are good at what you do, even if your constant tears make me ill. But it seems that fear for your own life is not enough to keep you in line. That's fine. Maybe this will. I am thinking of making a trip to Mideel soon. Your family lives nearby, no? Perhaps it would be a good time for me to introduce myself to them."
All air leaves the room. You grip the chair's armrests hard enough to leave marks. "That won't be necessary."
"No? Really, it's no trouble for me to stop by."
"No, please. Don't…"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes… It won't… I'll do anything."
Hojo pierces you with a sharp look over his glasses. "Anything, hmm? Good. I'm going to hold you to that. Now, finally, I don't care what you do on your own time. If you want to drink yourself unconscious every night, or even start shooting up mako, that's up to you. But the moment your personal habits affect your work, I will make that trip to Mideel…or wherever your family is, should you happen to prompt them to relocate. Understood?"
"…sir."
"Dismissed."
Julia alone is in the lab when you exit Hojo's office. You expect her to sneer at you as usual, but there's a flicker of something in her otherwise cold eyes as you walk past. Pity? Sympathy? Understanding?
Whatever it is, you don't want it. You take the stairs two at a time until you're on the third floor, shut tight in your room. Your heart is in overdrive and your body won't stop shaking. You pace around, narrowly avoiding knocking your wilting houseplant off of the windowsill. You dump a day-old, half-full glass of water into the pot and make another trip around the room. The floorboards groan underneath you.
That's it.
You step into the early-evening air. There's a bite to it that signals an approaching winter. No longer wanting to chance stepping foot on the road that leads to Nibelheim, you search the manor's grounds for an entrance for a path. You find one.
Long, dried lichen nearly obscures a small garden gate that's nestled between the tall, iron fence that wraps around the property. The lichen brushes your face as you step through and find yourself on a narrow footpath that winds up towards the mountains. The first switchback leaves you breathless. Good. You want the challenge.
Hojo has you, hook, line, and sinker. Gods, what was that last night?! You had already planned on falling in line to save your own skin, so what had possessed you to risk it all? The whiskey, that's gotta be it. You weren't thinking clearly, you let your emotions get the best of you. It cannot happen again. You resolve to pour every bottle of alcohol you can find down the drain when you get back. You can't afford any more missteps, not with your family on the line. Bile rises in your throat as you picture them in Hojo's custody, cowering in a cell, floating motionless in mako, writhing on a table while their insides are scooped out. You wrap your arms around yourself, digging your nails into your skin. You're not going to let that happen.
You rise higher and higher, the mansion becoming toy-like down below. The air is thin; you have to work for every breath you take. The sun has set beyond the mountains and the first faint stars appear in the sky. Memories of stargazing with your mom and sister come unbidden to your mind. Your mom would spread her mother's handmade quilt out in the middle of the field to protect you from the evening dew. You and your sister were in charge of making popcorn to bring along, although you both would eat most of it before even getting outside. You wonder if your mom and sister will take Evan star gazing one day.
You pick up the phone and call your mom.
"Thank goodness!" she breathes when she picks up. "I was so worried! How are you? What's going on? Where have you been?"
"Hey, Mom." your voice is tight.
"What's the matter?"
"Noth-,"
"Don't lie to me." she interrupts. "I think I know my own kid well enough to know when something's wrong."
"Mom…"
"It has something to do with your job, doesn't it?"
Perceptive, as always. You've never been able to hide anything from her.
"I can't…I don't want to talk about it. I wanted to check in on you." you say, hoping to change the subject. "How are you doing? How's dad?"
"We're worried about you. We want to know what's going on. Please, tell me."
"It's noth-"
"I said don't lie to me!" Her voice becomes unusually brittle like it always does when she's on the verge of crying.
"…I can't talk about it."
"Of course you can. You can tell me anything, no matter what. I will always love you."
"No, it's not… I can't tell you." You're shaking your head even though she can't see you. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"I just can't."
"Is this about your father…?" she clears her throat and waits for her voice to steady itself. "It's okay if you need to come home. He doesn't care if he loses his medication. We want you to be happy above anything else. I'll be okay too, alright? Sweetheart, it will be fine."
"I can't come home."
"Why? What's stopping you?"
"I just can't."
"…what do they have on you?"
"…"
"That's it, isn't it? Shinra has something on you, right?"
You sink onto a cold boulder and bow your head, pressing a hand over your eyes. "…just leave it. Please."
"What are they going to do to you if you quit? Really, sweetheart, whatever it is, it can't be worse than this. Something is killing you, and it's killing me."
"Mom…" Your voice breaks. "Please, leave it, okay? Please."
"…I just want you home." There are tears in her voice. She's crying now. "I want you home and I want you to be okay. I don't know what's going on with you, but I want you to be okay."
Sorrow wells up from your chest and renders you mute. You squeeze your eyes shut as your face twists into a mask of grief. You want so desperately to be next to her, tucked under her arm like when you were a kid. You want to be okay too, but you're not sure if that's possible anymore.
"Don't do anything rash. Talk to us. Me, your dad, your sister. Please. We are here for you."
"I will, Mom."
"Promise?"
"…"
"Promise?"
"I'll…I'll try."
"I love you so much."
"I love you too."
It's twilight by the time you get back to the mansion. You grab the bottles of alcohol from your room and head to the bathroom with every intention of pouring them down the drain. Then, for good measure, you'd do the same to every bottle remaining in the entertainment room down the hall. But…now that you're looking at the bottles in your hands, there's not that much whiskey left…maybe you could just finish that off. And the sealed bottle of rum does look good… It would be a shame to let it go to waste. It's not like you had to drink it in one sitting. Last night was a fluke. You let yourself go too far. You know your limit now. There's more at stake, so you'll be more careful. So why shouldn't you keep it...?
The alcohol gets tucked back in your room.
The next morning, Hojo teaches you, Clark, and Julia how to propagate S-cells from the samples he routinely collected from Sephiroth back in Midgar. Project S-II will require an abundanceof S-cells, so it's important that you all know how to make more, given that the source for S-cells is dead. You also practice creating slurries of S-cells for infusions and injections. It takes you eight tries, but you finally master the art of reaching a concentration of S-cells that Hojo is satisfied with.
The new equipment for the gym arrives shortly after and you spend another sweaty, breathless day hauling it down to the lab. Julia's finger gets crushed underneath a crate, while Dom gets hit in the ribs with a training sword that Barnes inexpertly twirls in an attempt to show off. Everyone leaves the lab irritated at the end of the day, but the facilities are now fully operational.
It's not until you're in bed kicking back the last of the whiskey that you realize the anesthesia you snuck into Hojo's supply order mysteriously vanished upon arrival.
The next day, you water your plant before heading downstairs (you feel guilty about letting it wilt) and run into Dom in the kitchen. His nose is still bandaged and the bruises under his eyes are even darker than they were a few days ago. He glances at you and tops off his mug with the last of the coffee. Ugh, you'll have to make a new batch. Asshole.
Hojo begins the day by ordering Julia and Clark to boot up the data recording equipment in the gym and you to remove Cloud's stitches before taking him to the gym.
You purposefully seek Barnes', rather than Dom's, assistance. Cloud and Zack melt into the back shadows of the cell when you approach.
"Cloud?" you call hesitantly. "I have to take your stitches out. Can you come with me?"
Cloud doesn't move.
"Hey," Barnes barks. "You were just asked to come out here pretty damn nicely. If I have to ask, I won't be so nice."
"I promise, I'm just removing your stitches." you say, hoping to coax Cloud out peacefully before Barnes electrocutes him. "That's all."
Cloud steps forward into the light. His eye is still bruised, but it's no longer swollen shut. "I don't trust you."
"You can trust me to shock you unconscious if you don't come with us now." Barnes interjects before you can respond. "Come on. Out."
"…"
Barnes frowns and reaches for the controller on his belt.
"No! Don't…" Cloud says quickly. He takes a shaky, deep breath and steps towards the cell door. "Fine."
Zack begins to follow him.
"Nuh-uh, not you." Barnes tells Zack. "You're staying here."
"Like hell I am. I go where he goes." Zack says.
"You'll join him soon," you start to say, but Barnes mutters "for fuck's sake" under his breath and presses the button on his controller. He doesn't hold it down for long, but it's enough to send Cloud and Zack to their knees.
"You're staying." Barnes jabs a finger at Zack "And you're coming with us." He jabs a finger at Cloud. "Now."
Cloud and Zack look at each other and something passes between them. "I'll be okay." Cloud says softly. "It's fine."
Zack sighs, closes his eyes, and nods.
"You, back corner." Barnes tells Zack. "You move, and you know what happens. You stay put, and we'll all have a great time. Your choice."
Zack retreats to the back wall, but you see how much it costs him to let Cloud leave without him.
Barnes places one hand on the shock button, one hand on the cell door's control panel. "Step up to the door." he says to Cloud.
Cloud does. Barnes opens the cell. You hold your breath while Cloud steps through, expecting Zack to make an attempt to get through. The moment of tension quickly passes, though, as the door shuts lightning-fast behind Cloud the moment he crosses the threshold.
Barnes jerks his head towards the lab. "After you."
With a final glance back at Zack, Cloud starts off down the hall. You and Barnes follow a safe distance behind, one hand hovering over the shock controller just in case.
"You gotta stop being so nice to them." Barnes says to you, making no attempt to lower his voice. Cloud's shoulders tense. "You can't go around asking for them to do stuff. You'll never get anywhere. You gotta firm up."
You're saved from thinking of an appropriate response when Cloud stalls as he enters the lab. His eyes lock onto the operating table. He starts shaking.
Barnes scowls. "Move. Get on the table. Go."
But Cloud seems to have lost the ability to voluntarily move forward. He takes a step back. Barnes shocks him. Zack's cry of pain echoes down the hall and that, more than being electrocuted himself, seems to pull Cloud back. He takes a trembling step towards the table.
"Either you get on or I make you get on." Barnes says when Cloud, at the table's edge, stops again. Silent tears roll down Cloud's face. He places a hand on the table and then withdraws it as if burnt. He shakes his head from side to side, although it doesn't seem like he's aware that he's doing it.
With a frustrated sigh, Barnes lifts his hand to shock Cloud again.
"Wait," You throw out a hand to stop him. "Cloud, could you just sit on the table? You don't have to lie down."
Barnes snorts incredulously. "Seriously? What did I just tell you? You call this firming up?"
You shoot him a glare. "I'm just pulling stitches. There's no need to restrain him."
"Are you kidding? Do you want a broken nose like Dom?"
"If he tries anything, you can shock him. Cloud, can you get on the table, please?"
Cloud casts you a dubious glance. You offer him an expression that you hope inspires trust. Cloud works his jaw a few times and then pulls himself onto the table. Shivers wrack his body.
"I'm going to grab my scissors and tweezers and bring them over." you tell him. "Can you sit near the edge? Yeah, that's perfect. Thanks."
You feel, rather than see, Barnes roll his eyes behind you.
You step towards Cloud, keeping your movements slow. Cloud shrinks in on himself, his shoulders rolling protectively over his chest, hands gripping the edge of the table tight.
"Can you sit up for me? I need to see your chest."
Cloud unfolds himself. He's still shaking. He flinches when you reach for the first stitch. "Easy," you murmur. "You need to stay still or these might tear."
He clenches his jaw, tightens his grip on the table, and nods. You try again.
One by one, you pull the stitches out. If the sensation of rough thread pulling through his skin bothers Cloud, he doesn't show it. He remains tense the entire time, eyes locked firmly onto the floor. You remove the last stitch.
"There, all done." you say, stepping back. "Let me clean these for you and you'll be all set."
Unlike Zack, whose skin is completely healed, Cloud's chest is marred by thick, ropy scar. It's possible that the mako treatments might make it fade over time, but it's likely that he'll have this mark for life. You know that the chances of having it disappear entirely aren't improved by the procedures Hojo has planned for him.
Dom passes through the lab on his way to collect Zack, blowing a kiss at Cloud as he does so. Cloud scowls, his body becoming even more rigid, which you didn't think was possible. Dom and Zack reappear together moments later. Zack's relief upon seeing Cloud is palpable.
"Brought your boyfriend in for you." Dom tells Cloud. "Can I get a thank-you kiss?"
"Gods, Dom, leave him alone." Barnes groans. "Can't you focus on your job?"
"This is my job. Isn't it great?"
"I'm with Barnes," you mutter, wanting to put Dom in his place, but also not wanting to give Dom too much cause to retaliate against you. He might be your coworker, but that doesn't mean he doesn't scare you.
Dom's expression grows sour. "Fuck off, both of you. Neither of you are any fun. C'mon." he shoves Zack forward towards the gym.
Zack stumbles forward, expression murderous. He glances at the door that leads to freedom, then at Cloud, who gives him a near-imperceptible nod.
Stars blossom in your vision as blinding pain erupts across your jaw. You stagger backwards, toppling over a tray of surgical utensils. Over the clattering of metal on cement, you hear Zack and Cloud screaming. Dom is laughing.
"Ahaha, you think you had a fucking chance?!"
You swallow and taste blood. You bit through your cheek. Your jaw is crooked and stiff. You disentangle yourself from the metal tray and pull yourself to your feet.
Cloud and Zack are thrashing on the floor while Dom stands over them, finger pressed hard against the shock button. You bring your hand to your jaw. It's already hot and swelling.
Cloud hit you. The same voiceless, terrified Cloud who flinched under your touch just minutes ago had punched you hard enough to knock one of your teeth loose. Your tongue toys with the tooth as you watch Cloud and Zack gasp for air between gut-wrenching screams.
"You good?" Barnes asks.
"I…I think so." It's hard to form words.
Barnes gives you a wry smile. "Told you he should've been tied down."
"…I guess so."
You watch Cloud and Zack writhe on the ground. It's hard to dredge up sympathy while your jaw howls in pain, but, as the seconds pass, you feel increasingly uncomfortable with how long Dom is holding down the button.
"Okay, that's enough." Barnes says. "Come on, Dom, knock it off."
"What, and give them another chance to escape? I don't think so."
"They're not going anywhere." Barnes says flatly. "And the boss needs them in somewhat good condition today. Stop."
Dom growls and mashes the button one more time for good measure before letting it go. Zack and Cloud lie gasping on the floor. "Try me again," Dom taunts. "There's nothing I'd like more."
Zack and Cloud barely seem to have heard him. They struggle to their feet, swaying unsteadily like they might collapse again at any moment. Cloud flashes Zack a questioning look. Zack grimaces and shakes his head. Barnes motions for them to move down the hall towards the gym. "Get moving."
While they limp to the gym, you dash upstairs to grab a bag of ice for your jaw. It's hard to not play with your loose tooth, but you force yourself to stop poking at it with your tongue lest it actually falls out. By the time you get back downstairs, Cloud and Zack have been released into the gym. You take your place in the observation deck above the gym with Hojo, Julia, and Clark.
Hojo puts Cloud and Zack through their paces, measuring their speed, strength, and agility, which will be important markers of how well their bodies respond to S- and J-cells over time. Zack, unsurprisingly, surpasses Cloud in every area. Although Cloud is in fairly decent shape for an average person, he looks pathetic next to Zack. A permanent sneer affixes itself to Hojo's face. Despite the high expectations he put on Cloud in his report to the President, it's clear that Hojo's hopes of Cloud ever becoming like Sephiroth are crumbling before his eyes.
During the VR combat portion, Cloud barely lasts a minute against an entry-level opponent. Zack angrily rips off his headset.
"Come on, that wasn't fair." he yells. "Cloud's barely had any swordsmanship training. You can't expect him to win that fight."
"We didn't expect him to win." Hojo replies snidely. "Back to your own fight, TS-2."
Hours later, Zack's feet drag as he is escorted back to his cell. Cloud is moving so stiffly that, if you didn't know any better, you would think he's been given a paralyzing agent. Zack casts a longing eye towards the lab's exit, but only hesitates for a fraction of a second before moving past it. Cloud doesn't have the energy to even lift his head. They collapse onto their beds the moment they reenter their cell.
You do the same once back in your room. Your jaw is throbbing fiercely and there's a ringing in your ears that won't go away. You're going to have a hell of a bruise come morning. You pop two aspirins and wash it down with a swig of rum from the bottle you just opened.
You drift in and out of sleep all night, the pain in your jaw waking you up every time you shift on your pillow. At 5 AM, you admit that you've slept as much as possible and get up to start your day. You were right; your jaw developed a magnificent bruise during the night. Damn it, Cloud. And after you'd been so gentle with his stitches too. You're immediately disgusted at yourself for being irritated with Cloud and expecting his gratitude when you are responsible for giving him stitches in the first place. If you were in his place, you would punch you too.
You shower, eat, and make a pot of coffee for the team before heading to the lab for some early-morning computer work before the others get up. Once there, you find that you're not the only early riser.
Cloud and Zack's low voices are especially audible from your desk at this early hour.
"…parry, then counterstrike."
"I'm not going to be very much help unless I get a gun, Zack."
"Don't be so sure - you showed some natural talent in there yesterday."
"But when am I going to have the chance to practice again? I'm telling you, unless I can get a gun, I'm going to be dead weight."
"And unless we can get these things off our legs, I'm going to be dead weight too. But that's a problem for later. What we can do now is work on your footwork."
"Okay, fine. …agh, shit. I'm so sore." You hear bedsprings groan as Cloud sinks back onto his bed.
"Same. …maybe we'll work on footwork later. What was that yesterday? I've never been worked so hard, and Angeal was no pushover!"
"Who knows? But I'd rather run on a treadmill all day than…" Cloud's voice trails off.
"…yeah. Me too."
The lab slowly fills with your coworkers. Clark winces sympathetically when he sees your bruised jaw, while Barnes gives you a look that says told you so. Hojo is in a disturbingly good mood, positively skipping as he enters the office. When he's happy, it's always at another's expense, and, today, it is at Cloud and Zack's. Project S-II officially begins today, and Hojo wants to start by introducing S-cells to Cloud and Zack's circulatory system. An IV drip will pump them full of a low-level toxin designed to damage blood vessels. After sufficient damage has occurred, the drip bags will be switched out to ones full of S-cells. If Hojo's research is correct, the damaged blood vessels will integrate S-cells into their tissue as they regenerate, aided by a final drip of mako.
Given yesterday's events, you anticipate a scuffle to get Cloud and Zack onto the tables. Dom and Barnes aren't taking any chances, though. With Hojo's permission, Dom and Barnes inject Cloud and Zack with a mild sedative before handcuffing them and leading them into the lab. With two out of six lab members sporting Cloud-induced bruises, the extra precautions feel necessary.
Clark and Julia hook Cloud and Zack up to IVs while you ensure the drip bags of S-cells and on hand nearby. You expect Hojo to mark the official start of Project S-II with a few commemorative words, but he simply starts the IV drips, waits a few minutes to make sure everything is running smoothly and disappears into his office. Then, there's just waiting.
No one seems interested in hanging around the lab watching nothing happen, so you all break the day into shifts. You volunteer for first shift, wanting to get it over with so you can hopefully snag an afternoon nap when you're done. The sedative Dom and Barnes gave Cloud and Zack hasn't worn off yet, so there isn't a whole lot of active monitoring you can do. You begin entering the data gathered in the gym yesterday into the computer. It's boring, monotonous, and, quite frankly, you don't want to do it. The right music might make it tolerable, though. With a quick glance around the room to confirm that none of your coworkers are present, you pop in your earbuds. The music makes a huge difference. Head swaying slightly to the beat, you immediately lose yourself in the work, until…
"What are you listening to?"
You stiffen. Zack's sedative has worn off. Uncomfortable, you keep your eyes on your computer and continue typing, pretending as though you can't hear him over the music.
"What?" Zack asks bitterly. "Don't want to talk to a lowly lab rat, is that it?"
You slowly, guiltily, pull an earbud from your ear.
"It's a playlist my sister made for me." you admit. Made as a gift when you left for school, it's your go-to whenever you're missing home.
"That's awesome." Zack says. "What songs are on there?"
You list a few.
"Nice, you've got some good ones. I haven't heard any of those in a minute… Mind playing them out loud for us?"
"Uh…" You look around the lab. It's still empty. What's the harm in it? "Sure."
You unplug your earbuds and let your phone play the music out of its speakers.
Zack closes his eyes to take the music in. You turn back to your data entry and try to pretend like there is nothing unusual about a Shinra scientist playing music for two human test subjects.
The music must be a welcome distraction for them. Every drop of poison entering their veins is slowly tearing them apart from the inside. Their bodies periodically spasm, teeth grinding together, fists clenching. A roadmap of red, irritated veins rises above the surface of their skin. Before long, they're drenched in sweat, although they shiver as if they're freezing. They don't scream, but you occasionally catch a whimper of pain or sharp intake of breath above the music.
Your sister's playlist ends and Cloud and Zack start making requests. You oblige. There's one song Zack wants to hear on repeat. It's not particularly sad, but you notice a tear leak from Zack's eyes nevertheless.
"…is this one of your favorites?" you ask after it finishes playing for the third time.
"It reminds me of someone special to me."
"Who?"
"Aerith. My girlfriend."
"…pretty name." you say, because you can't think of anything else. Your mind conjures up an image of a woman crying in front of an empty grave. If only she knew…
"Yeah, like her…" Zack blinks a few times. You look away as to not notice his fresh wave of tears. Zack clears his throat. "Do you have anyone special?"
The question catches you so off-guard that you can't help but give a short laugh. "No, never had the time. Med school was my full-time everything."
"That's right. You studied to become a doctor."
So some of your drunken ramblings had made sense to Zack after all. Zack clears his throat again. "So, ah, have you thought about what I said?"
"…?"
"About me protecting you if you get us out. We can leave here together."
"Oh. That." You clasp your hands together tightly and stare at the floor. "I can't."
"…"
You feel the need to justify yourself. "Hojo threatened my family."
"…I understand."
"I'm so sorry." you blurt out. Your apology sounds so small and hollow, floating like dust above Cloud and Zack's restrained, scarred bodies.
Neither of them responds. There's nothing to say. What did you expect them to say? It's okay? We forgive you?
"Thanks for the music." Zack finally says.
Clark relieves you from your post a short while later. You head back to your room for a nap, but the sleep won't come. This time, you know it has nothing to do with the pain in your jaw.
Hojo leaves Cloud and Zack alone for the next few days, giving their bodies time to process the influx of S-cells introduced to them. At the end of those few days, Hojo draws blood samples for analysis. Zack shows no indication that S-cells were ever introduced to his body. Hojo attributes this to Zack's SOLDIER enhancements which likely enable his body to fight off invading cells. He resolves to double the concentration of S-cells Zack receives in the future. Cloud's samples, however, come back showing marginal traces of S-cells. Hojo is elated. Some of his hope that Project S-II might be successful is restored. Cloud's progress is enough to convince him that it's time to move to the next procedure: introducing S-cells to major organs.
You kick back the last of the rum the morning of the procedure in hopes of numbing yourself to what's ahead. You know exactly how much to drink to give yourself a light buzz, but not impair your movements or speech. You eat a bagel with copious amounts of peanut butter to cover the smell of alcohol on your breath.
You load syringes of S-cells while Dom and Barnes lead Cloud and Zack to the operating tables. You hope that the sedative lasts long enough to keep them somewhat unaware during the procedure but know better than to actually expect that. A mild sedative won't block out the pain of blunt-force trauma.
A highly technical, scientific tool, called a metal pipe, would be used to cause widespread internal damage. After the body registers the damage, Hojo would open Cloud and Zack up and introduce S-cells to the affected organs. This incision will be smaller than the one Hojo made during their full autopsy, but that's hardly saying much. You can think of at least a dozen less traumatic ways to achieve the same result, but Hojo won't listen.
"Sir, there is no reason for them to be awake during the procedure." you urge him quietly. "I insist that we sedate them."
Hojo continues typing on his computer without even looking up at you.
"Sir, we would be able to be much more precise if they were unconscious. We might even get better results."
Hojo continues to ignore you.
Clark looks as though he's going to open his mouth to voice his agreement, but Dom cuts him off.
"Oh, shut up, you fucking bleeding heart." Dom sneers. "You ready for us, doc?"
"Yes. Proceed."
Dom and Barnes step towards the tables, Barnes with cool indifference towards Zack, Dom with unmasked glee towards Cloud. They raise metal pipes above their heads. Cloud and Zack barely have time to register what's coming before Barnes and Dom slam the pipes down onto their exposed stomachs.
Barnes isn't skilled enough to cast silence and swing a pipe at the same time, so the air is immediately filled with ragged screams that rip themselves from Cloud and Zack's throats. They writhe, pulling hard against their restraints, trying to twist themselves away. There's nowhere to go.
Your knuckles go white as you wrap your shaking fingers around your surgical tray's handles, pretending to be very interested in your tools so you don't have to watch Cloud and Zack's skin turn purple and blue. Every thud of metal hitting flesh sounds like a gunshot to your ears.
It's over in a minute, but it feels like hours before Hojo finally calls Barnes and Dom off. He sets a timer for thirty minutes to give the damage adequate time to set in.
Zack and Cloud lay breathless on the table. Dom places his palm on Cloud's stomach which is riddled with angry, red welts. He laughs when Cloud's moans in pain as he digs his fingers into Cloud's sensitive flesh, running his hand from Cloud's collarbones to his hips.
"L-leave him alone." Zack pants.
"What, you want some?" Dom asks. He slaps Zack's stomach with an open palm, causing Zack to yelp. "Sorry, you're not my type."
"Leave 'em be." Barnes mutters. "You're sick, Dom."
"Mind your own fucking business, Barnes." Dom snarls. "The doc doesn't have an issue with it, do you, boss?"
Hojo waves a dismissive hand before going back to scribbling on his clipboard.
Those thirty minutes pass unbelievably slowly. Intense shades of vermillion, indigo, and violet blossom over Zack and Cloud's skin. When the time comes, you bring over the syringes of S-cells and take your place across from Hojo. You're just resolving to stare anywhere else but Zack so you don't have to watch Hojo tear him open when Hojo hands you the scalpel.
"You do it."
You blink, shocked. This is unprecedented. Hojo always preferred being in control. Why would he…? Ah. Of course. Zack and Cloud aren't the only ones being punished today. Hojo's lips curl into a self-satisfied grin as he watches your face crumple. You think you're going to be sick.
You glance down at Zack, now silenced by Barnes. He's staring resolutely at the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes. You try to see him as Hojo does: TS-2, a specimen, a Shinra lab rat. It's impossible. This is Zack Fair, who once saved your life, who shares your taste in music, who has a girlfriend that he still loves.
You angrily blink back tears - they would only just amuse Hojo - and grit your teeth as you snatch the scalpel from Hojo's hand. Before you can overthink it, you plunge the scalpel into Zack's flesh. For all his prior stoicism, Zack's face twists into a silent howl of agony as you tear a window through skin and muscle to his insides. You're not as adept as Hojo is at cutting into conscious subjects, and you struggle to make clean cuts as Zack spasms beneath you. Cloud shakes uncontrollably on the next table over, knowing that he is next.
Zack's insides are messy. The blows from the metal pipe left a significant amount of internal bleeding that would kill a normal person if left untreated. Hojo instructs you to shift Zack's organs around his abdominal cavity so he can inject S-cells into the strategic areas he outlined in his report. You do your best to look without seeing, but you can't ignore the sensation of hot, pulsing flesh through your latex gloves. With Zack silenced, the wet sound of intestines rubbing together is unnaturally loud in the still, stale air. Zack's tremors weaken until he goes limp underneath your hands. There are limits to even what a SOLDIER first class can endure. Hojo finishes administering the injections and asks Clark to stitch Zack up. Expecting Hojo to assign Julia to Cloud, you step back and seek out the nearest chair to sink into.
But your punishment isn't over yet. Rather than asking Julia, Hojo orders you to repeat the procedure on Cloud. "You said you'd do anything, didn't you?" he asks, a cold smiling playing on his lips.
Your legs threaten to give out on you when you stand up. You wish you had had more rum that morning. You wish you were numb. You wish that the hands slicing through Cloud's skin belonged to someone else. Like Zack, Cloud thrashes violently under your blade, causing you to accidentally nick one of his arteries. Blood shoots like a geyser into your face. You recoil, bringing your hand automatically to your face to rub blood out of your eye. Hojo curses at you as he uses clamps to stop the bleeding. You resist the urge to vomit as the taste of blood enters your mouth.
Cloud eventually goes still under your knife too. You hate that your first thought is to hope that he died, but, you reason, it would be kinder than staying alive. Hojo takes his time injecting Cloud's organs with S-cells. He seems to purposefully knock his hands against yours to push your hands deeper into Cloud's abdomen. You swallow bile.
At long last, Hojo withdraws from Cloud and tells Clark to stitch him up. Zack has already been moved back to his mako tank, so Dom and Barnes hang around to transfer Cloud once Clark is finished. You and Julia clean the tables and sanitize the surgical equipment. Cloud's blood, now dried on your face, itches like hell. You have to actively restrain yourself from sprinting to the bathroom the moment Hojo releases you for the day.
You barely make it to the toilet before retching, the taste of vomit and blood mixing unpleasantly on your tongue. You catch your blood-stained reflection in the mirror, your hollow eyes staring out from a rust-red mask. You don't recognize yourself. You take an excessively long shower in boiling hot water, scrubbing your skin until it's raw. You seek out the bar cart in the abandoned entertainment room and snag a bottle of vodka. Never mind your promise to quit drinking after you finished the rum. You pound back shot after shot until, finally, the room falls away beneath you. You revel in the numbness.
You wake up around midnight, still blind drunk, but needing to piss. You stumble past Clark's room, his door cracked wide enough for you to see him sitting on the edge of his bed. He's staring at a fistful of white pills in his palm. You tip forward to lean heavily against his doorframe, pushing open his door with a lazy knock.
"Y'good?" you slur, a deep part of your brain recognizing that this is cause for concern.
"No." Clark replies bitterly. "Not really."
You stare at him. He stares at the pills.
"Me neither." you say. You stagger backwards a few steps and continue down the hall to the bathroom. You have to piss.
You wake up the next morning hungover as shit, but you have the vague feeling that you should check on Clark, although you can't remember why. He's in the lab when you finally drag yourself downstairs, though, so he's fine. Probably.
Just like you. You're fine.
Probably.