You're alive.
Zack, who killed Clark without hesitation, left you and Scott alive. Your throat is so inflamed that you can barely talk and Scott is suffering from a semi-major concussion, but you're both alive.
You're not sure if you're grateful or not.
Scott is the first to voice the need to get out of the mansion. You swiftly agree with him. Although the mansion is quite possibly the safest place to be - you can't image Zack and Cloud wanting to come back - you don't feel safe here either. The Shinra Army has barracks hidden in Nibelheim and taking shelter with them seems like a better option.
You still feel dizzy from your last binge, but Scott is having trouble walking in straight lines so you figure you're probably the safer choice of driver right now. You help Scott into the van, climb into the driver's seat, and lock the doors. You doubt locking the doors provides much additional protection against someone like Zack, but it makes you feel a bit more secure.
You take it slow on your way to Nibelheim, being extra careful to hug the inside of the road when it twists near cliffs. You think you're driving pretty well given the circumstances, but Scott occasionally sucks in a sharp breath and reaches for imaginary brakes around tight corners. You finally turn the van into Nibelheim and find chaos.
Pools of blood mark the spaces where bodies used to be, while those lucky enough to still live limp, crawl, or drag themselves back to base. A sergeant stops you as you step out of the van.
"Who in the hell ar-, oh. You're from the mansion, aren't you?"
You answer him with a short nod. Although the army isn't allowed inside the mansion, they at least know a few Shinra scientists live there.
"What happened here?" you rasp even though you can guess.
"Got a ping there were a couple of escaped experiments heading this way. Gotta say, I wasn't expecting the experiments to be so…human-shaped."
You don't respond. The less the sergeant knows, the better. Shinra doesn't like people knowing about their human-shaped experiments.
"…well," the sergeant continues after it becomes clear you're not going to elaborate. "I sent my boys out. Thought it'd be quick. An entire platoon against two guys? Easy. Blond one didn't really even count, since he had about as much life in him as a brick. But, uh…"
The sergeant's body language and tone shift. His shoulders tense and there's a tremor in his voice that was previously absent. "I've never seen anyone fight like that. Not once. I've never been one to commend turning tail, but I can't blame the ones who ran today. Those with the good sense to run are the ones you see now."
You take another look at the survivors. They're in terrible shape.
"He fell three of my men with a single blow." the sergeant continues. "I've never seen anything like it… It was like he was possessed. We tried to grab his friend, but that just pissed him off even more. I've seen men fight for their lives time and time again, but never have I seen anyone fight with that much desperation…"
"Is that when your men turned and ran?"
"No." The sergeant's voice shakes. "That's when those who waited to run found out it was too late."
You get to work patching up the survivors. They're a meager bunch, still shaking with residual adrenaline and shock. One disintegrates back into the lifestream under your fingertips. The blow that nearly severed his leg lost him too much blood, despite the messy tourniquet his comrades tried to put on him.
One man speaks to you while you sew shut the gaping wound across his hip.
"That was Zack Fair, wasn't it?"
You keep your eyes trained on the needle and thread.
"Looked just like him. Except the eyes. His eyes were too hard."
You stay silent.
"I trained under him, you know. He led me and the other cadets through a few drills. Best damn instructor we ever had."
You concentrate on knotting the thread together. Just a few more stitches and the man should be fine.
"Why was Zack in that mansion?"
You slip the needle under his skin.
"What happened to him? What did you do to him?"
You pull the thread through more roughly than intended. The man hisses in pain.
"That wasn't Zack Fair." you lie. "And you'd be better off forgetting that you ever thought so."
The man sits in silence, thinking through the implications your words held. "…understood." he finally replies.
You and Scott stay the night in the barracks. The army has a strict no-alcohol policy on its premises, so you struggle to fall asleep without your usual dose of mind-numbing medicine. You toss and turn, listening to the quiet groans of the wounded and the deafening silence from the dead's empty beds.
Why had you and Scott been left alive? Scott, perhaps, you could understand. He arrived after Cloud and Zack were put in stasis, so Zack wouldn't have anything personal against him. You, however, are more than deserving of death at Zack's hands. But why leave behind two people who could sound the alarm upon waking? Why leave you alive when he had murdered Clark without a second thought?
Maybe that's just it. You remember that faint flicker of regret in Zack's eyes during your conversation about Clark's death. Maybe that regret went deeper than you thought.
Or you could be overthinking it. Zack could have been disoriented from waking from a two-year coma and didn't realize he'd left you alive. That'd help explain why he had no problem cutting down nearly an entire platoon of troopers.
Then again, they were trying to stop Zack and you were not. They had weapons and you did not.
Could that be why he left you and Scott alive?
Your mind goes in circles until you finally come to the conclusion that whatever the reason Zack let you live, you'll probably never know. Your mind also won't stop reminding you that just because Zack left you alive, that doesn't mean Hojo will.
You and Scott receive summons to Midgar the following day. You're surprised Hojo doesn't fly out to inspect the mansion himself, especially given that the security cameras didn't capture Zack and Cloud's escape. Turns out, they have been offline for the better part of the past six months. When Barnes and Matson lived in the mansion, regular maintenance on the cameras was part of their jobs. Since they left, that job fell to you…except Hojo never told you so. Not your fault, but you wouldn't be surprised if Hojo holds it against you anyways.
The sergeant escorts you and Scott back to the mansion to collect your belongings. You pack up your clothes, grab your houseplant, and stuff a bottle of vodka into your bag for the flight back to Midgar. You can only assume you're heading for your execution, so you might as well live it up while you can.
But Hojo doesn't order your death. He barely even seems to be aware that the two experiments who consumed his life for two years have escaped. You hear that the Turks and Army have been assigned to tracking down Cloud and Zack, so it's out of his department, anyways. And, besides…
…Hojo has new toys to play with.
His new toys are genetic monstrosities created with cells sourced from J-E-N-O-V-A, who you're disappointed to learn now lives in the Midgar lab. Although the experiments are blessedly non-human, the work is still gruesome enough to make you wish Hojo had decided to kill you after all. Perhaps he would have - especially after you drunkenly vomit into a waste bin one day - if a monster hadn't killed two employees around the same time Cloud and Zack escaped. You might reek of alcohol and stumble when you walk, but Hojo would rather take you than hire someone new. He hates recruiting.
Scott joins the Midgar team alongside you and you understand immediately why he was sent to Nibelheim. He has a habit of constantly challenging Hojo and disagreeing with his science. You want to kick Scott in the shins every time he opens his mouth. You can't think of a faster way to go from scientist to experiment. Fortunately for him, he's good at his job, so Hojo continues to tolerate him.
Matson is still around doing the heavy lifting and he helps you out from time to time. He's still gruff and thinks you need to improve your cleaning skills, but he shares his lunch with you when you wake up too hungover to pack one. Julia also still works for Hojo, although she acts as though you two never met before. You give her the child's drawing you found in her room back in Nibelheim. She glances at it, her expression remaining cold and neutral. She drops the drawing into the trash without hesitation and walks away.
Later, however, you catch her quickly fishing it out of the trash and stowing it in her purse when she thinks you're not looking. She might be better at playing Hojo's game than you are, but you're no longer fooled.
You find a new apartment with a guest room your dad can use during his monthly trips to Midgar for cancer treatments. He's often joined by your mom, sister, and Evan, especially during the first few months when they're desperate to reconnect with you after years of silence, but sometimes he comes alone.
You can tell he's desperate to figure out what happened to you, but he doesn't pelt you with an unrelenting stream of questions like your mom does. He just takes you to his favorite haunts he's discovered by visiting Midgar over the past several years and quietly sits with you while you watch people walk by.
You sit together for hours like that, just side-by-side in quiet contemplation. There are so many times when you feel the words bubble up in you, the confessions, the sins, the guilt, but you can never bring yourself to tell him. So you just sit next to him while tears drip silently down your face and he holds your hand.
About six months after returning to Midgar, you and your dad are sitting on a bench in Sector Eight near the Loveless Theatre. It's one of your favorite and least favorite places to sit because there are always happy people there. Couples on dates, families on outings, friends creating memories… You simultaneously love and hate the reminders that regular people living regular lives still exist.
It's getting late, so your dad squeezes your hand to let you know he's nearly ready to leave. You dry your eyes and stand up. As you do, a young woman approaches you.
Her brown hair tied back with a ribbon and she has the greenest eyes you've ever seen. She wears a pink dress and carries a basket of yellow flowers that remind you of the ones that cover the Nibel Mountains in the springtime. You stare at them, lost in thought, before you realize she's talking to you.
"You look like you could use this." she says, pressing a flower into your hands. You look down at it blankly before realizing that she is probably trying to scam you.
"No thanks." you reply gruffly, trying to give it back.
She delicately steps away and shakes her head when she understands what you're thinking. "No, it's a gift. Please, take it."
You look at the flower again. It is lovely, and its fragrance is a breath of fresh air in Midgar's mako-laden smog.
"If you don't want it, I'll take it." your dad jokes.
The woman laughs. It's a beautiful laugh, light and sparkling. You feel something unlock in your chest. The woman says "In that case, here's one for you too!"
Your dad accepts the flower with a smile. The woman turns her attention back to you. "This heaviness you're carrying, you'll find something to do with it. I know you will."
You frown. "How did you..?"
But she ignores your question and steps closer to you, her eyes searching yours. "I…I'm not sure why, but I feel like you're linked to someone who was very dear to me… I feel like you could have the answers I've been looking for all this time."
"What are you talking about?"
She bites her lip and looks as though she's deciding whether or not to ask you an important question. "Did you…did you happen to know someone named Z-"
"Excuse me! Miss! Miss! Can I buy a flower, please? My date's going to be here any second!"
The woman takes a sharp breath as if she were just doused with icy water. She takes a step back and tugs self-consciously on the hem of her jacket.
"I'm sorry for troubling you." she apologizes, reading the unease on your face. "I must have mistaken you for somebody else. Please, enjoy your flowers!"
And she turns to assist the flower-seeking individual.
You haven't received any updates about Cloud or Zack since returning to Midgar. You imagine they probably died months ago given that they escaped into the Nibel Mountains in December. SOLDIER or not, you can't imagine anyone surviving a winter in that kind of wilderness.
But in September, you see an email in Hojo's inbox as you're transferring files to his computer. It reads Escaped Subject - Terminated.
You open the message before thinking through whether or not you should.
Zack Fair didn't die in the Nibel Mountains last December. He died yesterday on a cliff just a few miles outside Midgar, gunned down by hundreds of Shinra troopers. The report mentions severe casualties sustained by Shinra. Zack must have given them a hell of a fight. Cloud is still reported as missing, although he's presumed to be dead. Shinra hadn't been able to find him. Given his mako poisoning, you suspect that Cloud probably rejoined the lifestream soon after escaping the mansion. There's no way anyone in his condition would last a week outside of a mako tank, let alone survive a journey over the mountains and sea to Midgar.
Even though you had long assumed Cloud and Zack to be dead, it still hits you hard to receive confirmation. You didn't realize it, but you had been subconsciously rooting for them. You were hoping, against all odds, they'd get a happy ending.
The following month, the Sector Six Plate drops during construction. Then, just a few months after that, there's a series of reactor bombings throughout Midgar led by the eco-terrorist group, Avalanche. The bombings dominate every conversation you overhear until the Sector Seven Plate collapses, killing everyone living on and under it. News outlets report nonstop on Shinra's ongoing, heroic efforts to recover survivors from the rubble. You call bullshit. You've been inside Shinra's rotten belly for far too long to believe that they care about Sector Seven.
Just two days after the Plate collapsed, you come into work to find Shinra in complete disarray. Avalanche broke in the previous night and caused hell. The reports are confusing, and the camera footage is blurry, but rumors also circulate of Sephiroth walking the halls of Shinra once more. J-E-N-O-V-A has been stolen, plucked right from her tank, but Hojo is mysteriously overjoyed. President Shinra is dead. His son, Rufus, takes his place as president.
Your family calls you a few weeks later to tell you that Mideel was destroyed by a sudden upwelling of the lifestream. They tell you to be careful. You tell them the same.
It's hard to stay safe when a Planetary Weapon attacks Midgar, though. You stare disbelievingly at its hulking form approaching Midgar. You'd thought Planetary Weapons were a myth.
"Sir, we need to go!" Matson urges Hojo. Hojo stands at the window, staring at the Weapon with an expression that's too calm for the situation at hand. Matson steps in front of him. "That thing is coming right at us! We need leave now."
Hojo shakes his head, humming absentmindedly. "No."
"Do you understand me?!" Matson snaps. "If we don't leave now, we could die. Let's go."
Hojo turns his back on him and walks to the stairs that lead towards the Sister Ray, a massive cannon Shinra had moved from Junon not long ago. "No. There's something I have to do."
You and Matson watch his retreating form until it disappears, twin expressions of disbelief on your faces.
"I'm not waiting for him." you say.
"Me neither. Let's get out of here."
The elevators are packed to the brim and are being called to every floor. You and Matson figure it might be faster to take the stairs. You join the legions of employees flooding down the staircase to the exit. Around the fifteenth floor, the stairwell gets so backed up with people that you slow to a crawl, crammed elbow-to-elbow. The air is rank with sweat, respired air, and fear. Someone elbows you in the gut. You step on someone's foot. Someone goes down in the crush of people and can't get back up. You lose track of Matson without realizing that that will be the last time you'll see him.
You're just past the third floor when the building begins to shudder ominously. The power flickers. Screams echo up the stairwell. Someone tugs at your coat as they try and pull themselves past you.
You should have left with Scott and Julia who fled at first mention of the Weapon. You hope Julia makes it to her daughter.
You're on the second floor when the building gives a massive lurch. The steel beams around you creak and you hear glass shatter. The power goes out completely. For a few, claustrophobic seconds, you're plunged into complete darkness. Hot bodies press themselves against you on all sides. You can't breathe. Then, those who haven't lost their minds pull their phones out of their pockets and turn on the flashlights. You continue creeping down the stairs, one inch at a time.
At last, you burst out of the Shinra Building with a flood of other sweating, panicked people. A sea of glass crunches underfoot. You have to do a double-take to make sure the exit let you out in the right city. Midgar is unrecognizable.
The streetlights are out. There's no soft light glowing within the windows of homes. Shops, usually lit up like beacons to attract customers, are dark. No pillars of green from the mako reactors illuminate the sky, which now shows nothing but the foreboding emptiness of space.
Bursts of raw energy shoot through the sky. You squint, their brightness painful after so much dark. For a moment, it looks as though they'll pass harmlessly over Midgar. Then the Plate quakes and explosions rip through the air. The people around you start running. You do too.
You're no more than a block away when a burst of hot air slams into your back and shoves you to the ground. You lie there for a moment, needing a moment to process what happened. Someone trips over you. You get to your hands and knees to crawl out of the street. You turn back to see the uppermost floors of the Shinra Building engulfed in white-hot flames.
Sirens wail in the distance and a general cacophony of human shock and panic fill the air. You blindly sprint to your apartment as fast as your weak, alcohol-addicted body will let you. It's mercifully still standing. You shut yourself inside and wait for the chaos outside to subside. The leaves of your houseplant tremble with every quake that ripples through the Plate.
There's a heaviness in the air the following morning. Ash drifts through the city like fog, and the charred scent of burning wood, plastic, and metal lingers in the air. You call Hojo to see if he expects you to come into work. You're sent straight to voicemail. You try Julia's cell. You're sent straight to voicemail. You call Matson. The phone rings until it nearly goes to voicemail and you're about to resort to calling Scott when Matson picks up.
"Hey." His voice is grim.
"Hey, I was just calling to see if you know what's going on today."
"I'd stay away from Shinra if I were you." he says. You hear people arguing in the background.
"What's going on?"
"Rufus is dead."
"The explosion…?"
"It killed him, yeah."
"What about Hojo?"
"Dead. Avalanche took him out. Last I heard, Scarlet and Heidegger are dead too. Listen, I'm getting out of town. I don't li-"
You can't hear him anymore. Your head is overtaken by a powerful buzzing that drowns out every thought. You're floating strangely in your own skin. On autopilot, you hang up on Matson, tug on your shoes, and leave your apartment. You don't remember walking to the Shinra Building, but you wake up shoving your way through a crowd of gawking onlookers to see Shinra's destruction for yourself.
The Shinra Building is slumped like a decapitated monster against the gray sky. The lobby, normally immaculately polished, is coated in a sea of glass and dust. You crane your neck, looking up, up, up, taking in the gaping, black holes where glittering windows used to shine until your eyes land on the top floors where you wasted so many miserable hours of your life. The metal is blackened and twisted from the impact. You count down from the top to find what's left of the sixty-fifth, sixty-sixth, sixty-seventh, and sixty-eighth floors. Black smoke billows from the shattered windows. You try to picture the lab, all scorched and scarred, the glass tubes of mako tanks shattered from the heat, the test subjects trapped inside broiled to crisps. You imagine mangled lab tech, cracked computer screens, stacks of charts and graphs reduced to powdery ash…
...and you imagine Hojo, bloody, bruised, and broken, falling lifeless to the floor.
The man who made you into a monster is dead.
There are no words for what you feel right then, but the wild, uncontrollable sobs that claw themselves from deep in your belly and out your throat are close. Your high keening turns into a ragged wail as you sink to your knees and desperately clutch your arms around you as the emotions threaten to tear you apart from the inside. You grief-stricken screams give way to hysterical laughter that sounds like crying. You pull wildly at your hair, you rock back and forth on your knees, you shake your head from side to side. You spit and hiss and yell and howl, trying to purge yourself of the years of misery and suffering you've bottled inside yourself for the past seven years. A stranger kneels beside you to comfort you, thinking you're crying tears of anguish. You cry harder because you can't explain that they are tears of relief.
You decide to leave Midgar the following day. There's nothing left for you here. Shinra is dead as a man, company, and idea. You don't need anyone to tell you that you no longer have a job. Besides, you'd rather spend the last weeks of your father's life by his side. With Shinra collapsing, it won't be long until his medicine runs out. You pack up your belongings, grab your houseplant, and tell your landlord you're leaving.
"Are you kidding?" he complains. "You're the fifth unit to move out today. How am I going to make money?"
You wish him the best and catch a train to the coast.
As Midgar sinks below the horizon, you expect a weight to lift from your shoulders. You think to yourself it's over, it's over, it's over and wait for peace to settle in. The weight doesn't lift. You feel no peace. You should've known your demons are the persistent type.
Since Mideel was destroyed, the ferry no longer makes regular trips to its shores, so you have to convince a fisher boat to take you over instead. You stumble onto the ruined docks and search for the bus to your town, but it's no longer there. With a tired sigh, you adjust your grip on your suitcase and houseplant and start walking. You're lucky that the sky is clear and the moon is bright, although you swear there's a new star in the sky you've never seen before.
You stagger onto your family's porch in the early hours of the morning, your feet bruised and bleeding from hours on the road. You rap your knuckles on the front door. The lights flicker on behind the windows. Your father's suspicious eyes peer out from around the curtain before widening in shock as he realizes who it is. He throws the door open and pulls you into his arms. Your mother and sister join him moments later. You're all crying.
You awkwardly introduce yourself to your sister's husband for the first time before he goes to put Evan, awoken by the commotion, back to bed. Your mom pulls you into the kitchen and your dad heats up a bowl of homemade soup and sets it in front of you. It smells delicious, but you can't bring yourself to eat. You have bad news to deliver.
Your mom takes it the worst.
"Surely they'll figure something out."
You shake your head, staring at the now-cold bowl of soup in front of you. "Shinra's president and top executives are dead. The building's totally destroyed. There's no recovering from that."
"What about that doctor? Can't she make the medicine on her own?"
"The Shinra Building isn't safe to enter. She can't get to her clinic."
"What if they sent in those little robots? What if they could get the supplies out?"
Your dad covers your mom's hand and gives her a meaningful look. "It's fine." he says simply.
Your mom bursts into tears. Even though she's had years to prepare for this, she's not ready.
Over the following week, you try your best to settle back into life on your family's farm. You help your sister in the fields or help your brother-in-law in your dad's old grocery store. You help watch Evan while your mom makes dinner and join your dad on his morning walks. You naively wished you wouldn't feel the need to drink after coming out here, still stupidly hoping that you only drank because of Hojo, not because you're addicted. Thirst dominates most of your thoughts. You're ashamed to admit to your family how reliant you are on alcohol, though, so you only sneak drinks when no one is looking. You're pretty sure they all know anyways.
The new star you spotted during your trek back to town grows in size every night until your town collectively realizes in horror that it's a meteor. You try calling Matson to see if he has news, but the cell towers in Midgar are overloaded and your call won't go through. The meteor swells until it blots out the sky. Day and night become indistinguishable from each other as the sky takes on a fiery hue. There's nothing anyone can do but wait for impact.
Then it happens.
Beacons of beautiful, powerful, protective, and terrifying light explode from the ground and reach towards the heavens. You throw your arms up to protect yourself, but the light shines through your arms and eyelids, blinding your eyes with an awe-inspiring, blistering purity that burns you to the core. You hear wailing and singing, cursing and praying, bitterness and hope, rage and compassion, hate and love. The voices of those who once were and those who will be are united together by an overarching, singular presence that radiates immense sorrow and pain.
It's over as suddenly as it began. The meteor is gone, leaving you and your family in shell-shocked silence. The power goes off and stays off not long after. Without Shinra, there's no one left to operate the mako pumps. Even if Shinra were still around, you think they'd be hard-pressed to find anyone still willing to use mako energy after hearing the cries of the Planet.
Your community, as rural and independent as it is, adapts reasonably well to life without Shinra and mako energy. It's a pain to no longer have electric lighting, but most homes in your town still use wood-burning stoves to cook, gravity-powered rain barrels for water, and root cellars for food storage, so aside from some groaning and griping, people adjust relatively well. Your sister's farm swells as more food is needed to replace the shipments of commodity crops that used to come from the mainland. Her husband can barely get enough food to fully stock the grocery store's shelves. But compared to people who stayed in Midgar, you imagine that your community is surviving comfortably.
You'd say you're surviving comfortably too, except that there's no longer any alcohol to be found. Your brother-in-law's store runs out a week after the meteor vanishes and that's it. There's nothing left and you drive yourself insane thinking about how to get just one more sip. You hear your neighbor is dabbling in making moonshine, but he doesn't have a damn clue what he's doing. Withdrawals set in and manifest as shaking hands, hallucinations, uncontrollable sweating, and a temper so foul you end a family dinner before it even begins. You yell at your brother-in-law in full view of his shop's customers, accusing him of hiding alcohol in the back room away from you. You snap at your dying father and curse at your caring mother. Insomnia keeps you awake for days on end, although whether that's because of the withdrawals or nightmares, you're not sure. When you scream at Evan to the point of making him break down in tears, your sister chews you out real good and threatens to make you sleep in the barn unless you straighten up. Out of spite, you do sleep in the barn for a few nights until your pride wears out. Deep down, you recognize that this forced detox is for the best. Maybe in time, your body will recognize that too.
Your body and mood balance themselves out a week before your father withers and quietly passes in his sleep. The funeral is quiet. Not many people outside your family attend; people have too many other things to grieve right now. You stare at his tombstone and think about the last thing he said to you. "Thank you for going through hell to grant me a few more years of heaven."
Does his gratitude make your time suffering under Hojo worth it? You don't know the answer to that question.
There's a need for a doctor in your village, especially after Mideel was destroyed, but you don't act to fill that need, despite your mom's encouragement. White lab coats, syringes, bumps, and bruises bring back too many unwanted memories. You continue to help your sister on the farm instead. It's nice having dirt, rather than blood, under your nails for a change.
Evan instantly forgave you for blowing up at him and has turned into your constant companion in the field. He chatters away about interesting rocks and insects he finds, staring up at you with blue eyes that remind you of someone else. He doesn't understand why you're so quiet with such heavy eyes, but when you're having a really rough day, he'll wrap his arms around your waist (when did he get to be so tall?) and stay there while you try to slow your racing heart down.
The work is exhausting, but you relish it, pushing yourself to collapse so you won't have to think about the past. This makes it easy to get to sleep, but staying asleep remains a challenge. You wake up screaming most nights, convinced there's someone leaning over you with a scalpel.
Gossip trickles in from the mainland, distorted and twisted through a long-distance game of telephone. There's talk of a new, deadly disease called geostigma running rampant throughout the continent and a claim that a new government, called the World Regenesis Organization, is forming in the vacuum Shinra left behind. Two years later, you hear rumors that a Bahamut was summoned in a town called Edge that sprang up just outside the Midgar ruins. A year after that, someone pushes the story-telling a little far by absurdly proclaiming there was an uprising of experiments from a secret lab underneath the Shinra Building. You can't help but roll your eyes at that one. If anyone would know about a secret lab, it would be you.
Try as you might to pretend that you've only ever known farming, your seven years working for Hojo cling like mold to your brain. The heaviness you hoped to shrug off after leaving Midgar never goes away. You've gotten off too easy and you know it. Your victims are dead, or worse, and you're out in the country playing farmer. The only thing you think of as much as drinking is killing yourself, but even though you've come up with a hundred different ways to do it, you know you won't follow through. Whether it was on purpose or not, Zack left you your life. You feel like you need to do something with it.
The news that the World Regenesis Organization is recruiting members for its Ethics Department reaches your town. A fire ignites in your chest. You think you finally know what to do with the heaviness you've been carrying.
Evan is crushed when you tell him you're leaving, but he solemnly agrees to care for your houseplant after you're gone. Your sister bemoans the fact that you're leaving right before the busy harvest season, but you know it's just to cover up her worry about you returning to a city. You're the most worried about leaving your mom, but she hugs you tight and whispers in your ear, "I hope this is what heals you."
Travel isn't as easy as it was before Meteor. Halfway there, you realize that you might end up receiving a jail sentence rather than a job, but you don't turn around. What happens will happen. You're tired of hiding from the past. When you eventually make it to Edge, the ruins of Midgar loom in the distance. You can't help but feel another cold shiver of satisfaction when you see the burnt-out husk of the Shinra Building. You stride into the World Regenesis Organization's headquarters and the secretary barely has time to greet you before you blurt out, "I want to join the Ethics Department."
You refuse to leave until you're granted an interview. You're told this is highly unorthodox, but a recruiting officer agrees to meet with you that afternoon. The interview goes sideways when she asks, "Why do you want to join the Ethics Department?"
You take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
It all comes spilling out, the beginning, middle, and end. You leave it all in: your willingness to slice into monsters and animals to escape student debt, realizing you were in too deep when you were asked to experiment on humans, becoming trapped when your and your family's lives were threatened, Cloud, Zack, the Nibelheim Survivors, and the fact that you haven't done a single damn thing in your life to even start to make things better. Although you don't defend your actions, you do your best to convey to the recruiter that you truly felt powerless under Hojo. You explain that, more than anything, you want to make sure people like Hojo never gain power again, both for the sake of experiments, like Cloud and Zack, but also for employees, like you.
Your throat is dry by the time you're finished speaking. You wish you had water. The interviewer sits slack-jawed in her chair. There's an uncomfortably long silence before she excuses herself into the hall. You're left alone in the conference room, wondering if she's getting the police.
But the police don't walk through the door. It's the leader of the World Regenesis Organization and former Shinra Director of Urban Planning: Reeve Tuesti.
"You worked for Hojo." he says by way of greeting.
You give a slight incline of your head. You don't bother telling him that you've crossed paths in the Shinra Building before.
"My assistant told me what you told her."
You're not sure what to say. Is it normal for the leader of a new government to visit interviewees?
"You've done terrible things."
You nod again.
Reeve considers you. You don't look away.
"I've let terrible things happen too." Reeve finally says. "That's why I will stop at nothing to make things better. Is that what you want? To make things better?"
"More than anything."
Reeve gives you a wry smile. "Welcome to the team."
That evening, you secure a room in a hostel and wander the streets searching for a place to eat. Restaurants have become somewhat of a rarity since Meteor, but in a populous area like Edge, there are a few scattered around. You ask strangers on the street for recommendations and they unanimously point you towards Seventh Heaven.
Seventh Heaven is housed in a rundown building that's hodgepodged together like the majority of buildings in the city, but it has a certain charm and warmth. Worn linoleum squeaks under your feet as you navigate your way through the packed room in search of an open seat. Every table is full, but there's an empty stool at the end of the bar. You hesitate. You haven't been near a bar in years. But there's nowhere else to sit and you're hungry.
A woman with cinnamon-colored eyes greets you as you take a seat and asks if you'd like a drink. You hurriedly order water before you can think twice. She mercifully doesn't pressure you to get something stronger. You're not sure if you'd be able to refuse. She brings you the water and a food menu. "My name is Tifa. Just let me know when you're ready to order!"
To distract yourself from the wall of tantalizing drinks behind the counter, you closely look over the menu. There's surprisingly a diverse selection to choose from despite food still being a bit scarce. The most shocking item on the menu is a side of applesauce made with Banora Whites.
"How did you get those?" you can't help but ask when Tifa stops by to take your order. Banora Whites became incredibly rare after a massive earthquake devastated the town over a decade ago. They'd been one of your favorite foods as a kid.
"Oh, the apples? We get asked that all the time. There's a grower just outside the Banora ruins who's trying to keep the variety alive."
"And they deliver all the way up here?" you ask. You can't even get Banora Whites in your hometown which is practically neighbors with Banora compared to Edge.
"No, no." Tifa says with a small laugh. "There's someone who runs a delivery service out of the office upstairs. He's made a few trips down to the grower near Banora and the grower likes to tip with applesauce. Would you like some?"
"Oh...um, no, that's alright." Even though you'd love to have a taste of something you haven't had in decades, the cost of the applesauce is prohibitively expensive. "Some fries would be great, though."
But she brings you a small bowl of applesauce along with the fries. She puts a finger against her lips and winks at you when you start to protest. "Our secret, okay?"
The applesauce tastes like childhood and the fries are excellent too, salty and warm. You relax, soaking in the din of cheerful conversation and the clatter of silverware on plates. When was the last time you let yourself enjoy going out like this? You turn in your stool to survey the bar, feeling a surge of affection for everyone else in the room. The past few years have been hard on everyone, yet here you all are. You're all survivors with the will to keep on living. You grab another fry and bring it to your lips…
Then he walks in. The fry falls from your numb fingers and into your lap.
It's him. TS-3. Cloud Strife.
The kid you cut open, stitched up, and cut open over and over again. The lab rat whose screams still ring in your ears, whose blood you still feel on your hands, whose eyes you still see when you look at Evan. The limp, mako-poisoned body that should have died years ago is here. He's right here.
He's a little older and taller than you remember, but there's no mistaking him. Even if he didn't have the same spiky hair or glowing, mako eyes, you'd know him anywhere. There's no forgetting your first human test subject.
He looks good. There's a fullness to his frame and healthy glow to his skin that fear, lack of sunlight, and constant experimentation never allowed in the lab. There's still a tightness in his expression - you imagine he's been through too much to ever lose that look - but there's a lightness in the way he moves. He feels safe here. At home.
The sound of running feet travels above you and down a staircase behind the bar, until two kids, a boy and a girl, pop out at the bottom. They rush over to Cloud, the girl throwing herself around his waist, the boy hanging back and playing it cool until Cloud opens his arm and the boy ducks in for a quick, sideways hug. The kids pepper him with questions that you can only half-hear over the noise of the room.
"-fight any monsters?"
"Did you visit-?"
"I heard that one guy didn't want to pay! Tifa said-"
"-bring anything back?"
With a small smile, Cloud pulls out two boxes from his pocket and hands them to the kids. The girl jumps in delight and a smile spreads over the boy's face. "Thank you, Cloud!" they chorus in unison.
Cloud says something to them in a voice too quiet for you to hear, but the kids nod and scurry back up the stairs, their footsteps eventually fading. He starts moving towards the bar.
Your mind, frozen with the knowledge that not only is Cloud alive, but he's in the same room as you, kicks into overdrive as he approaches. You spin forward and hunch over your plate. There's a mirror behind the bar, though, and you can see his reflection in it. You catch a glimpse of your own startled face. Your hands start to shake.
Cloud unholsters a massive sword and leans it against the counter before sitting down just three seats away from you. Tifa slides him a drink across the counter with a warm smile. "Welcome back!"
Cloud catches the glass. "Thanks.''
His voice is lower than it used to be.
"Did you figure things out with that guy who 'couldn't pay?'"
"Yeah. He miraculously came up with the gil after a little convincing, but I don't think he'll ask me to run deliveries for him again anytime soon."
"His loss. You don't need customers like that."
"No kidding." Cloud takes a sip of the drink and glances around the room. "You've got a crowd tonight."
Tifa answers him, but you're too caught up in your own head to understand her. So Cloud's the person running deliveries out of Seventh Heaven? If you were thinking clearly, you might think that it's fitting for someone who spent years of their life in captivity to now make a living by traveling the world, but you're not thinking clearly. You're on the verge of losing it.
The food in your stomach has turned to acid, the sweet taste of Banora Whites curdling on your tongue. The friendly, warm atmosphere of the restaurant suddenly feels hostile and cold, but you're sweating as though burning up. Your shoulders creep to your ears and your hands clench into fists. You want to disappear. You want to be seen. You want to leave. You want to stay. You want to fold in on yourself and lower your gaze, but you can't drag your eyes away from Cloud's reflection in the mirror. All he needs to do is look up and make eye contact.
Would he recognize you? What will you do if he does? What will he do if he does?
You have a sudden vision of being skewered by that massive sword.
Tifa leaves Cloud to go tend to other customers and his eyes follow her as she moves down the bar. With a jolt of panic, you realize she's coming your way, drawing his gaze closer to you, closer, closer…
You slam all of the gil you have in your pocket onto the counter and stand up so fast that you nearly knock the barstool over. The fry that landed in your lap hits the floor.
"Hey, wait! Are you okay?" Tifa calls after you, but you're already halfway across the room, tripping over people in a desperate attempt to get out before Cloud sees your face. You make it outside, the night air cool on your flushed skin. You pick a random direction and start to walk, not caring where you go as long as it's away. In every scenario you imagined seeing Cloud again, you never imagined one where you ran away.
But, then again, you always have been a coward.
You're halfway down the block when the voice that haunts your nightmares stops you in your tracks.
"Tifa sent me to make sure you're alright."
You can't make yourself turn around and face him, but you also can't bring yourself to move forward. You're frozen. You hear his footsteps draw closer to you. Shivers travel down your spine.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
Words get stuck in your throat, but you manage to force them out anyways. "I'm fine." you lie unconvincingly.
"You left too much money." Cloud says. He's only feet away now. "Tifa won't accept all of it. Here."
You hear the clink of gil as he holds it out to you, waiting for you to turn around and take it.
"It's fine," you say, your voice trembling. "It's for her."
"I told you, she won't take all of it."
You hear his footsteps again; he's circling around you now.
And there he is. Cloud Strife, looking at you dead in the eyes.
How different he is now compared to when he writhed and screamed under your scalpel. You remember a scared teenager, but the man before you is a hardened warrior. He holds out the gil expectantly. You find your eyes drawn to the smooth skin on his forearm. You remember opening that skin to get at the muscle and tendons inside.
Does he carry any physical scars from that time? Or are they all mental?
"Are you going to take it?" he asks, a tinge of annoyance in his voice.
You can only stand there, mute. You glance at the collar of his shirt. You wonder if he's still branded with the Shinra tattoo Hojo gave him.
He goes to take your hand, presumably to shove the gil into it so he can go back to relaxing at Seventh Heaven, but you recoil, your hand twitching towards your belt. You hate that you still have the instinct to reach for a shock remote. A whisper of recognition flickers across his face. Cloud lowers his hand and steps back.
"Do I… do I know you?"
Yes.
"No." you lie again. You try to move past him. He blocks your path. His eyes burn into yours.
"…I do know you."
"No, you must be mista-"
Your words die on your tongue as Cloud's eyes widen and his face goes slack with shock. His hand grasps for something behind his back. His fingers close on empty air. You think of his sword leaning against the counter back at Seventh Heaven. He leaps backwards, putting more distance between you and him in a single bound than any normal human could.
He eyes you warily from twenty feet away. He appears to have aged ten years in ten seconds, dark lines appearing under his eyes, a haunted expression etching lines onto his face.
"I do know you." he repeats, but this time there's no uncertainty in his voice. He knows who you are. "You're…"
"I don't do that anymore." you say, a hard, defensive lump appearing in your throat. You don't know why you said that. It doesn't matter if you don't experiment on humans anymore. It matters that, at one point, you did.
You unconsciously take a step backwards. Then another. Another. You expect Cloud to throw himself at you and wrap his hands around your throat to finish strangling you like Zack started. But Cloud is backing up too. You see fear in his eyes. Underneath the whirlwind of panic and shame overtaking your mind, a sliver of you wants to laugh at the absurdity of this young, mako-enhanced fighter being afraid of you. He could rip you in half without trying.
But he remembers you. He remembers to fear you.
"I'm sorry." Your throat has decided to work again. You feel your knees weakening, your chest growing tight. The tears are coming. Your apology sounds hollow. "I'm so sorry."
He stares at you like an animal caught in a trap. You stumble backwards a few more steps. You accidentally back into the road. A car lays on its horn. Brakes screech. Cloud doesn't move. You turn. And you run.
A greasy, dense ball of guilt sits in your stomach like lead for the remainder of the night and eats you from the inside out. You can't do anything except sit hunched over with your arms hugging your stomach tight while your nails claw at your sides. You flinch at every sound, expecting Cloud to come find you. You promise yourself that, if he does, this time you won't run.
But he doesn't come. You wonder if it's because he can't find you or if he doesn't want to. After a week of waiting, you decide to leave him a note on Seventh Heaven's doorstep. You drop it off in the early hours of the morning, hoping to not startle him by being seen near his home. If you ever want to find me… the note reads, with your name and new apartment address listed below.
But weeks pass, and you don't see him. The greasy ball of guilt doesn't go away.
Maybe it's for this reason that you pour your mind, body, and what's left of your soul into your new job with the World Regenesis Organization. If Cloud is unwilling to give you the punishment you deserve, then you'll try to earn retribution on your own. You begin work before dawn and stay until after dusk, working weekends, holidays, and through your lunch breaks. Your coworkers are just as dedicated to their jobs as you are. They're also ex-Shinra, and although you rarely discuss your lives from before, their drive to improve the world makes you believe they also have pasts they're trying to atone for. If there's something good that came from Shinra, it's that the company left behind a population of embittered and disillusioned people who are now dedicating their lives to making things right.
A year passes. You think you spot Cloud leaving the World Regenesis Organization's headquarters once, but he's gone before you can be sure. You think about stopping by Seventh Heaven again, but stay away when you recognize that you want to go for your own closure, not Cloud's benefit. You don't want to make things worse than they already are.
At the end of the year, the World Regenesis Organization prepares for its annual address to the public. Reeve asks if you'd be willing to speak on behalf of the Ethics Department. You decline. He asks again. You say no. He asks one more time. You ask him why it has to be you.
"Because there aren't many others who understand why this department is needed as intimately as you do."
You agree to give the talk.
Every seat and standing space in the conference room is taken. You're sweating and regretting ever agreeing to Reeve's request. Public speaking really isn't your thing, but the hypocrisy of you of all people speaking on behalf of the Ethics Department is what really eats at you. If this crowd knew a fraction of what you have done…
Yet, Reeve sees potential in you. He casts you a sideways glance before he stands to speak. You nod at him. You're ready.
Reeve's introduction is somber, uplifting, reflective, and inspiring all at once. He praises the resilience of the Planet and her people and elevates the vast progress the World Regenesis Organization has made in the past year. Edge is growing steadily, supported by reasonable public security initiatives, alternative energy sources, and a rapidly growing network of young entrepreneurs, ready to push this new world into its next phase. After Reeve is finished speaking, each department stands and gives an update. Urban planning, agriculture, public safety, energy… You rub your sweaty palms on your pants and focus on the texture beneath your palms to settle your nerves. It's finally your turn. As you stand and take your place behind the microphone, you make the mistake of scanning the crowd. Your eyes land on Cloud Strife.
He's lingering in the back near the door, appearing to be ready to bolt if needed. His hand rests on the hilt of his sword, casually enough to appear accidental, but you know better. His eyes bore into yours, glowing in the dim light of the room. Your breath catches in your throat. Everything else in the room disappears except him. Your speech, which you endlessly rehearsed in front of your shabby, apartment mirror, is forgotten. How could you stand up here and pretend you know about ethics and morality when one of your victims is staring you in the face?
Someone touches your shoulder. You flinch violently and turn around. It's Reeve.
"Are you okay?" he asks quietly.
No, you want to say, but you swallow and nod your head yes. There are hundreds of other eyes waiting for you to speak, even if it feels like it's only Cloud in the room. You shuffle your notecards in your hands to buy you a few more seconds to recover. The audience shifts anxiously in their seats, made uncomfortable by the long silence. Cloud's eyes are locked onto yours.
He's expecting something from you, you can tell. You stare at your notecards. Is what he wants written in here? There's no apology in the world that will right past wrongs. There's nothing you can do or say that will take away the pain you caused.
You begin speaking. Your voice is quiet and robotic, and the audience has to lean forward to catch your words. You can't drag your eyes from Cloud. You recount the past year of work the Ethics Department has accomplished. His expression is as hard as steel. You can't tell what he's thinking. Does he approve of your department's past actions? Does he think you're doing enough?
But maybe...maybe he's not here to ask you to fix the past. Maybe he's here to hold you accountable to creating a better future.
You move onto outlining your department's goals.
You promise a future which is free from corruption, where no entity shall ever become so powerful that it can treat people as expendable, where the basic rights of everyone are placed before corporate gain. You outline your department's strategies for battling corruption, maintaining transparency, and ensuring accountability. As you speak, you wonder where you would be now if these systems had been in place to protect you. You wonder where Cloud would be if they had been in place to protect him.
"As we work together to continue rebuilding our world, the Ethics Department is here to ensure that there will never again be a place for those who use their power to harm." you say, your voice growing stronger. Your anxiety drains away and the fire in your chest that drove you to the World Regenesis Organization reignites. "We are here to serve as a shield between you and any organization that thinks it can use you to satisfy its own gain through coercion, bribery, or threat. If you have a concern, we are here to listen. If you fear retaliation, we are here to protect. We promise to work alongside you, the people of this Planet, to continue integrating the highest degree of fairness, honesty, and accountability into every level of our society. We promise to cultivate a society that is just and fair. We promise to be here for you.
"I know there is nothing I can do to change what was," Your voice trembles as it always does when you get to this part. But Cloud doesn't need your tears, so you blink them away and push on. "But I guarantee that I will remember every instance of corruption, blackmail, and suffering and use them as powerful reminders of why ethics are necessary in the rebirth of our world. Memories of my silence and complicity and the shame they led me to will forever bind me to this work, and I will spend my life working to build a system that protects everyone, no matter the cost."
Cloud's eyes glitter. He slowly gives you a single nod.
In that nod, you see that you're not forgiven. You know there is no forgiveness for what you did. In that nod, you see that Cloud is willing to give you a chance to do better, to turn your past sins into something good. In that nod, you see that, should your commitment ever waver, you will have him to answer to.
You hold his gaze and speak the final lines of your speech entirely to him.
"I promise."
And there we have it! Stitches, which was supposed to be a one-shot, wraps up at over 60k words. This is the first long fic I've ever finished and I can't tell you how good that feels to me. I've had "write a long fanfic" on my goals list for years and it feels amazing to finally cross that off. This epilogue (which was supposed to be only 2k words) was rewritten multiple times and grew to around 9k words. I would like to extend a huge THANK YOU to Capt-BA who checked for typos, helped me beef up the ending paragraphs, and cheered me on when I wanted to give up. If it weren't for Capt-BA, I don't think I would have ever finished the epilogue.
Thanks so much to you all for giving this fic a chance despite its unorthodox perspective and present-tense narrative. I've appreciated hearing from every single one of you. Thanks for taking the time to read this.
If you're up to it, let me know how you picture the protagonist! I purposefully have avoided describing any physical aspects of the protagonist. I wanted you, the readers, to decide. It's been fascinating for me to read some of you use he or she pronouns when referring to the protagonist. I love getting glimpses into your minds of who you picture the protagonist to be! There are no right or wrong ideas. However you imagine the protagonist is correct!
Here's a list of music I listened to while writing this fic, in case you're interested. It's mostly atmospheric and really helped me feel the heavy, hopeless atmosphere I was going for during the fic. document/d/1Tzvy-ZB7yc46QYWlpkCX0UCq6kVFck0PM1BO1Bt7wRo/edit?usp=sharing
Finally, in case you're curious, the word "you" was used roughly 3,250 times during this fic. :) Gotta love second person POV, amiright?
Thanks for everything!
- SlaughterOtter