Splintered Dreams

Chapter 17

"Bloodstained"

They came for them twice more during the night and Zack barely kept his sanity each time, knowing the pain Tifa was enduring, while he was helpless to stop them. It was worse then, when it wasn't him strapped to the rack and bleeding, when they took her away and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

Barret had asked through the walls repeatedly about Tifa, and Zack hadn't had the heart to answer. And then, after a while, the question had changed from, "Where's Tifa?" to "How bad is she?" and Zack knew that they'd taken Barret from his cell too.

And still, he hadn't been unable to answer. Physically, they were all wrecked, Zack knew, but he had no idea what type of experience AVALANCHE had with this sort of thing. SOLDIERs were trained for it, schooled in it—physically and emotionally—and as hard as it was for him to endure, it was harder for him to know that they were doing it without that edge.

Guilt warred with anger and Zack cursed himself, Shin-Ra and his gods-damned SOLDIER body that wouldn't fucking heal fast enough. Bruised, bloody, and sore enough to not want to breathe, he took Tifa in his arm when they finally dumped her back into the cell.

He cradled her against his chest and tried to soothe her when the pain broke out in sweat and fractured cries. He brushed matted hair from her forehead and wiped ineffectually at the blood beneath her nose and on her lips. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice tight. So damn sorry.

And somehow, she managed a small nod. "It's okay."

And he darkened inside.

Because it wasn't fucking okay.

What it was, was sick and twisted and wrong, and he'd make them sorry. For every wound, for every scream, for everything.

With that thought running on repeat, Zack leaned back against the cot with Tifa still cradled to him and watched the door and waited. They'd have to kill him this time. They weren't taking her again.

Something was wrong.

Zack's eyes snapped open and reflexively his hold on Tifa tightened. She made a soft, displeased sound and he forced his grip to relax as he considered what had woken him.

It was dark. The overhead lights were out, which wasn't completely unexpected. Shin-Ra liked to keep their prisoners as uncomfortable and scared as possible. Turning off the lights was a tactic he'd seen done countless times before. But it was also quiet. Abnormally quiet.

The phrase: unnaturally still, crept into his head, and Zack straightened, completely alert.

The door.

Tension coiled his muscles, stood the hairs on his neck on end. The door was open.

Careful, he lowered Tifa to the floor before he unfolded his legs, his pants stiff and tight with sweat and blood. He made his way cautiously toward the celldoor, grimacing as his knee—the one the hammer had pounded—popped with each step.

When he reached the opening, and his hands gripped the steel casing of the door, a part of him expected the guards to come busting in and tackle him to the ground, laughing over his folly. He waited a beat, then one more.

No one came.

He poked his head out and found the hall was as silent and as dark as the holding cell.

Holding his injured ribs, Zack ventured a few feet outside of the cell, still expectant of an unseen attack. He flexed his hands, cracking the dried blood on his forearms and scanned the corridor. A few feet away the guards that should have had him pinned to the floor, lay dead with pools of blood soaking through Shin-Ra blue.

Zack swung his gaze up and searched the shadows for signs of anyone, but the short hall was empty. Whoever had killed the guards and unlocked the cell was long gone. He could wonder about the who and why of the situation later, he decided. After he healed Tifa and got the others.

He knelt beside one of the bodies and tore open the man's protective vest—lotta good that seemed to do—to search the pockets for the potions he knew would be there; three of them, standard issue. He did the same to the other guard.

"Thank you." He kissed the green tubes.

Back inside the cell he eased Tifa up from the floor and tilted her head back over his arm. "Hey," he shook her gently.

Eyes, bloodshot and still glassy with pain, blinked up at him and he felt guilt ball into lead and sink in his chest. "Drink," he held the rim of the vial to her mouth.

She glanced down at the green liquid, then up at him."You first," she refused.

Of course she'd be pig-headed about this, he thought with a shake of his head. "Tifa, now's not the time to be stubborn—"

"I know..." she agreed, wincing as she tried to sit up. Her breath hissed between her teeth and she paused a moment before speaking again. "So don't be. If we have a chance to get...out, we need you...to be healed...okay..."

She had a point, damn her, but he couldn't just let her stay like she was. So broken.

They'd broken Cloud too, his inner voice reminded him. Zack shoved that voice back by force of will. He couldn't think of that now; couldn't dwell on how much Shin-Ra really had stolen, broken, and ruined. He especially couldn't think of blood stained desert and a promise made in haste. Not when the person he'd promised to protect was lying beaten in his arms.

Zack found his gaze straying to her hands—black and swollen and nearly unrecognizable. It had been hours and after repeated tortures without any healing, or any help, he knew there was a good chance she was permanently damaged.

He closed his eyes, inhaled a sharp breath. Stop it. Focus, Fair.

"I have three potions for each of us. Just take yours for me, please," he whispered against her temple. "Please, Tifa, for me."

Her lips parted, only a bit, and Zack couldn't say if it was in acceptance or rebuttal, but he didn't give her a chance either way. He tilted the potion, trickled it into her mouth.

She grimaced and her eyes watered as she coughed and spluttered a bit, but when the bruises on her face shimmered and started to fade, Zack felt a swell of relief and delivered the other. When he was opening the third she shook her head at him, lips pursed.

"No." Her voice was firmer—if a bit raspy—and her eyes fully open. "You."

She was set, he noted. That stubborn tilt of her chin was a dead giveaway. Grudgingly, Zack complied with her order and welcomed the warmth of the potion into his system.

Uncapping the next potion he felt his muscles in his abdomen twitch and then tighten and he spasmed. His body clenched in on itself violently and a wave of pure agony swept through him.

"Zack!" Tifa's voice sounded very far away even though she was right beside him.

He grappled for her as he shuddered, tried to hold onto her—onto consciousness—as another sharp pain lanced his abdomen and he felt like he was being ripped in two.

Internal injuries. He should have known. They were a bitch to heal, even with the strongest potions, and he'd seen soldiers bleed out from the wounds reopening without adequate treatment. He needed another potion, but he was shaking too hard to hold the vial and he could already taste the blood in the back of his throat.

His head jerked back as another convulsion stole his breath and Zack swore his insides were on fire. Cool arms curved around his shoulders, and suddenly lips were pressed over his forcing tingling liquid into his mouth, down his throat. After a moment his tremors slowed, then stopped altogether and the burning ebbed...faded until gone.

He blinked the last remaining pain away and the room came swimming back into focus. Red-flecked, chocolate eyes stared down at him, worry creased between them, tears at the edges. Zack pushed her hair back, curved his palm to her cheek. "Tifa?" He couldn't keep the shaking emotion from his voice, and he didn't bother to try. He was too raw and everything was so twisted and wrong.

But then she smiled down at him, weak and still tight with pain, but she smiled, and something inside of him righted itself.

"Any excuse for a kiss, huh?"

She choked out a laugh. "Zack." Her head dipped over his and her hair tickled his neck. "You're impossible."

Zack eased back, levered himself up on his elbows. He could see it when the realization of their circumstances settled on her and her eyes narrowed. She stiffened, immediately more alert. "What's happened?" she asked.

"That's a godsdamn good fuckin' question."

Over his shoulder Zack acknowledged the arrival of Barret. The AVALANCHE leader was bruised and bore a number of cuts on his face and chest, but he was steady on his feet and didn't appear in need of immediate healing.

"Your cell unlocked too?" Zack asked.

"Nope. Just developed the ability to walk through walls," Barret deadpanned. Then his face changed into a look of such pain that Zack wondered if he'd been mistaken and the other man was worse off than he'd thought.

"Aw, fuckin' hell, Teef." Barret strode forward, dropped to one knee beside them, his dark eyes murderous as he took in Tifa's pale face.

"Hey, big guy," Tifa greeted and fought hard for another smile.

Barret swallowed thickly, cupped her chin in his big hand, caressed her cheek with his calloused thumb.

She raised her arm to return the gesture, and winced. She didn't look at her hand though, Zack noticed.

"Aw, shit." Barret's face scrunched when he finally noticed the full extent of her injuries. Even after the potions, Tifa's fingers were disjointed, misshapen and discolored. The bones were beyond broken.

"Don't cry," Tifa whispered, holding his gaze. Then she bold face lied. "I'm okay."

And Zack felt that right thing inside of him clutch. She'd never put herself above the others, he realized. No matter what. That fact made him want to hold her and shake her all at once.

Barret seemed to have the same problem, because he just shook his head, flustered, and swore softly again. When he lifted his eyes to Zack there was determination in them that went deeper than the anything Barret had shown before.

Silently, they mutually agreed to take care of her. They had to find something stronger than standard potions for her, Zack knew, or there wouldn't be any chance to save her hands. A materia, maybe...or Aerith.

If Aerith was even still around, he thought, hands tunneling through his hair. Tifa had told him where Aerith was hidden, but that was hours and hours ago. The only thing that had given him hope of her safety was their continued interrogation. But even that had stopped, and now there was darkness and death just outside their door.

"We should be going now." From that doorway Red looked in on them, but didn't enter. The voice, soft, with carefully enunciated words, was still surprising coming from an animal. His solitary gold eye drifted from the trio in the cell to the hall, then back again.

They did need to move; to get off of the containment floor and find a way out, Zack knew. Staying as they were was only inviting trouble, and they'd endured more than their fair share of that.

"I agree with the giant kitty-wolf thing." Barret said.

Zack pushed to his feet. He reached down to help Tifa up. "Yeah, let's go."

"I can manage," she protested, face flushed, but Zack very purposefully ignored it and circled her waist with his arm.

"You got her?" Barret asked, also ignoring the indelicate snort of his teammate.

"Yeah." Zack nodded, and to his surprise Barret simply inclined his head and followed Red into the hall.

Once the group was out in the corridor Red took point, his nose inches from the ground. He made a chuffing sound, that to Zack sounded like a cross between disgust and fear.

"What the hell is going on?" Barret demanded, standing beside one of the dead guards. The shadows made it hard to see his expression, but Zack had no doubt it was a grim one.

"No human could have done this," Red murmured, sniffing the corpse, a slight rumble in his throat. He flicked a look up at Zack.

Zack held up his hands. "I didn't do it."

"No," Red acknowledged, but there was speculation in his tone. He moved forward, haunches high with tension. His eye gleamed in the shadows. "There's no light any farther down. I suggest we stay close together."

Tifa nodded. "Yes, we stay together."

"Agreed. One second, though." Zack stepped to the side, between the open cells, and yanked on a handle hidden in the wall. There was a pop and snap as the lock gave way and a drawer slid out. Inside he found his boots and shirt. He pulled them on quickly, rubbed his hands through his hair, pushed the mussed pieces back out of his eyes and straightened his shoulders.

"All set now, Princess?" Barret quirked a brow.

"Yeah." Zack slapped his back as he passed. "Couldn't have you drooling over me the whole time we're trying to get out of here." At Barret's disgusted grunt, Zack added, "I saw you looking. Don't deny it."

Red cocked his head, confusion evident on his furred face.

"Ignore them," Tifa instructed.

"They are a...unique pair," Red replied, thoughtful.

"Don't I know it," she murmured, but affection was heavy in her tired voice.

Zack stepped beside her, rested his hand on her shoulder. She was still far too pale for his liking. "Doing okay?"

She nodded but didn't quite meet his stare. "We should get going."

There was nothing more he could do for her, he knew, and they did need to be moving, but Zack hated to push her.

Sensing his doubt, she finally lifted her eyes to meet his. "I'll be okay, really. Let's go."

With Red in the lead, the others fell in line and made their way from the small side corridor to the main hall quickly. As the door hissed open Zack flinched at the unwelcome smell of blood that tickled his nose. A glance back at Tifa and Barret revealed both to be clearly on edge, but it didn't seem that either had noticed the change in the air; in front of him, Red growled.

The main hall was also dark, but along the walls there were deeper shades of black, splotches and smears that had Zack holding his hand up, halting the group. He knew what those darker marks were, even in the pitch black.

"What is it?" Tifa came up beside him.

He didn't want to alarm her any more than he needed to, but he didn't want to see her rubbing up against the blood splatter either. There was a lot of it; far too much for just one person. "Stay away from the walls," he said slowly. "Stay close together." You'd better be all right, Aerith.

"We'll find her."

Startled, Zack glanced down at her. She met his surprised look with a worried but determined one of her own, and he realized that he had spoken aloud. "Thank you," he said softly.

"I can smell her." Red's quiet voice drew their attention.

Zack whipped his head around. "Take me to her."

With a nod, Red took off down the hall with the others following the swish of flame at the end of his tail. They reached the door to the stairwell and on Zack's nod, Barret pushed it open. There was a low hum and the security lanterns flickered to life along the hall and the stairs a moment later. The secondary generator, Zack realized. The one that came on when the emergency exits were accessed. It wasn't run off the same Mako supply as the main power grid or the first back-up generator.

"Oh, Gods..." Tifa staggered a bit, her eyes wide as she took in the smears of black and red along the walls, dragged across the floor. Slumped in the far corner was a dead infantryman, his intestines spilling onto his lap and the floor.

"Fuck." Barret wiped his mouth.

"Come on," Zack urged. "Keep moving."

"What the fuck happened here?" Barret growled, lumbering down the steps after Red.

For that, Zack had no answer, but whatever had happened had happened fast. There were no alarms, no signs of any other persons aside from Shin-Ra employees dead or wounded. It was unlike anything he'd seen... and it reminded him of rumors.

Rumors from the Wutai war. About a man single handedly taking out an entire enemy camp without so much as a warning flare going off...

The trail of blood and smears was never ending it seemed and as they got closer to the floor that Hojo's lab was on, Zack couldn't help but feel an anticipatory tingle at the prospect of finding the Professor dead. He imagined the blood, the open sightless eyes...

"Zack!"

Head jerking up, Zack looked at Barret. "What?" he snapped.

"Sorry to interrupt your fuckin' daydream, but we got shit to deal with." Barret gestured towards the metal dome on the outskirts of the lab. The one that housed Jenova. Only now, it didn't. There was a gaping hole in the containment tank and Zack took a step back.

Had Jenova done this? Had that thing gotten free and started wreaking havoc upon the people that had imprisoned it?

"Did it get away?" he asked aloud.

"It looks like it went up." Red said helpfully as he motioned his nose toward the specimen elevator.

"Then I say we head the fuck down," Barret commented.

"Take me to Aerith." Was all Zack said.

Red nodded and led them past the containment units and the elevators, and back into the stairwell. A few flights down and he stopped. "The scent of your friend is stronger," Red stated. "I believe we should enter here."

"Then let's get her and get the hell gone already!"

Zack took a breath. He didn't blame Barret for being strung out, they all were, and knowing they were closer to Aerith, Zack felt his heart accelerate and that tension mount. Was she all right? Had they hurt her? Had whatever had done this hurt her? "Lead the way," he told Red, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead.

She hadn't moved.

That was the first thing Tifa thought when Red stopped outside the bathroom door. The second thought was much more grim and she wondered if Aerith hadn't fled because she couldn't.

Don't, Tifa told herself. Don't think like that. Aerith would be okay. She had to be.

Her gaze found its way back to Zack and she noticed the tightness at his mouth and the darkening of his eyes as his hands flexed at his sides. He was worried, far more so than he was trying to let on. Aerith was extremely important to him, Tifa knew. She still didn't have a clear picture of their history—she hadn't asked too many questions and he hadn't offered up too many answers—but she knew that there was a history. The bond between them was obvious and deep.

"We goin' in?" Barret asked, breaking the long pause.

"I will." Zack's voice held an off pitch to it that had Tifa wanting to reach for him.

Not that she could, she thought, refusing to look down at her ruined hands. Her shoulders shuddered on her next breath and she forced her anger down. Now was not the time.

"We shouldn't split up—" Barret began.

"Let him," Tifa said softly. "We'll wait right here," she told Zack, giving him a longer look. If you need us.

He nodded once and, straightening, he pushed open the bathroom door.

"He's got one minute," Barret grumbled, crossing his arms over his barrel chest.

Red chuffed in his throat, but otherwise remained silent. His large head swiveled back and forth, and his haunches never seemed to relax. There was still danger near, or the lingering scent of it, and it had the animal spooked.

Tifa shifted on her feet, her own agitation and anticipation making her edgy. Just when she thought she was going to crawl out of her skin with worry, the door swung back out and Zack was helping a very pale, very shaken Aerith from the bathroom. His hands rested securely on her shoulders, relief evident on his face.

"You're all right!" Tifa let out the breath she had been holding.

"A bit cramped," Aerith nodded, rubbing her thigh. "But all right."

"You were in the duct the whole time?" Barret asked, incredulous. "And they never found you?" He made a noise somewhere between disbelief and sardonic amusement. "Fuckin' idiots."

"It was a good hiding spot." Aerith gave Tifa a weak smile. "When none of you came back, I feared the worst. I thought about trying to escape, or trying a rescue... but by the time I'd come up with any ideas the screaming started." A shudder. "So many voices...so much screaming..."

"Shh, it's okay," Zack rubbed her shoulders, gently kissed her hair. "You're safe. We've got you now."

Aerith rested her head on Zack's shoulder. "What happened here?"

"No one knows." Tifa told her.

"What about you? Did you see anything?" Barret asked.

"No." A shaking hand passed over green eyes. "But I heard the screams." She looked up at Zack then turned her attention to Tifa and said solemnly. "All of them."

Tifa flinched.

Aerith stepped forward. "You should have told them," she said, reproach in her voice. "I didn't want you...any of you—to be hurt because of me."

"It wasn't because of you," Barret stated, his voice gentle, surprising the other woman. Tifa's mouth twitched up a bit at that. Barret, when not bellowing and making a scene, was really quite tender. It sometimes was more jarring to see that side of him than the rough one.

"Shin-Ra woulda found a way to hurt us, one way or another," he continued. "They've been trying to get us since before you came along, so don't worry none about it, okay?"

Aerith seemed less than convinced, but she nodded. "Okay."

"Can you heal her?" Zack moved beside them. He took Tifa's hand in his, lifted it for Aerith's inspection.

Aerith studied the swollen fingers and bruised palm carefully. Then, with a sad sigh, she said, "No, I can't. Her fingers are already starting to mend like this...if I heal her now..." Her eyes were wide and full of regret.

Tifa met Zack's gaze. Hers resigned; his determined.

"Barret." He didn't look away from her.

"What?"

"Hold her."

"What?" Both Tifa and Barret were confused.

"Here." Aerith seemed to know what Zack was thinking, and pulled off her short jacket, and rolled it. She held it up to Tifa's lips. "If you need something to bite."

Tifa frowned, then realization came. "Oh. Oh!" Oh, hell.

Between Zack's fingers, her hands trembled slightly and Zack's eyes softened on hers. He bowed his head so that his forehead rested on hers. "I'll be fast," he whispered.

Barret circled her waist from behind, steadying and secure. She heard him swear into her hair.

Zack moved so that he was directly in front of her, swallowing her entire vision. "Ready?"

Her breaths increased, became shallow, but she nodded once and closed her eyes.

A quick jerk and everything snapped; the sound sickeningly loud in the silent hall.

Oh, Gods, she was going to throw up! Tifa stumbled, nearly fell as pain radiated from her hands through her entire body. She would have fallen if not for Barret's sure hold and Zack's steadying presence.

"Here, I have her. I have her." Aerith pushed Zack aside and captured Tifa's hands in her own. She bowed her head, her voice faint yet clear as she asked the Planet for help in aiding her friend.

Warmth, like a soothing breeze, wafted over them and Tifa felt it tingle through her system. She watched in fascination as her hands became less swollen, less black, began to look normal again. She couldn't help but be startled, awed and a bit afraid of the amount of energy she felt coming from Aerith. It was intoxicating...

"Enough." Tifa breathed, pulling herself back as Aerith swayed on her feet. "Zack, make her stop."

"I can make it better," Aerith refused, determined.

"You have," Zack assured her. "Enough, now." He placed his hand over theirs and Tifa felt the energy flow wan, then snap like a frayed rope.

Looking like she was very much drugged, Aerith blinked hazy eyes. "Okay, now?"

Tifa flexed her fingers. They were still a bit tender—like she'd been sparring without her gloves—but they were healed. Healed. She blinked back the sting of tears. Zack brushed his thumb across her cheek, his gaze intense. There was so much unspoken between them, so much to say, but all Tifa could come up with was, "Thank you." Then emphatically to Aerith. "Thank you."

Aerith smiled a tired smile.

"That's some gift you got there," Barret whistled.

"The Cetra were renowned for their healing abilities," Red informed them. "It would appear that fact is true."

A hint of pink colored Aerith's cheeks. "As much as I like hearing you praise me and my lineage, don't you guys think we should be getting out of here?"

"We should definitely be moving," Zack agreed.

The group walked down the corridor, Red in the lead with Barret flanking, the hall lights flickered and the whir of the elevators could be heard. Slowly, the group turned, and silent, they watched the glowing numbers blink. The elevator was stopped at the top. The President's floor.

"We couldn't be that lucky..." Barret muttered. He looked at Zack. "You think?"

"Only one way to find out."

Tifa shook her head when Zack looked over at her. "Don't even think of telling us to hide. We're coming with you." She gripped Aerith's hand in her own.

"Absolutely," Aerith agreed with a fierce scowl. "No way am I climbing back into that vent and if you try and make me I'll poke your eyes out."

"Vicious little thing," Barret commented, with something akin to admiration in his tone.

"You have no idea," Zack shot over his shoulder.

The two men kept the banter up through the halls and Tifa couldn't ever put into words how much she appreciated them for it. For every corpse or heavy smear of blood there was another set of distracting quips and snide comebacks.

It wasn't until they stood outside the President's door that everyone was silent again.

"This could change everything," Barret said finally.

If only they knew how much.

AN: So sorry for the long delay on this. No, the story hasn't been abandoned. If anything it'll be picking up speed, both in plot and with updates. Thank you, thank you, for those of you still reading. I so appreciate the patience you've shown me. 3