Splintered Dreams
"Shipmates"
Chapter 26
Steel and white walls brushed against the breadth of his shoulders, footfalls echoing like hollow shots in the dim confines. Zack had never before considered himself claustrophobic by any standard, but as they traversed the lower deck and the lights flickered overhead and the sounds of screams grated on already raw nerves, Zack felt as though the ship itself was trying to strangle him.
From the above deck came the frantic bark of orders accompanied by the steady drum of booted feet, but it was the sounds seeping from within the darker recesses of the ship that turned his blood to ice.
Agonized pleas and screaming.
The kind of screaming that crawled over skin and clawed hair up by its roots.
It was the sound of gruesome death.
"This way." Zack made a quick right down an adjacent corridor. Together, he and Tifa skirted a series of maze-like passageways until at the end of one low ceiling passage they came to a second control room.
Zack held up his hand, slowed them to a cautionary walk. The last thing they needed to do was barrel headlong into a pointy blade—or the barrel of a gun.
Inside the room boilers blew steam in angry hisses and red lights cast an ominous glow over metal and wire. He had gone only two steps into the room when a hand reached out from behind a water tank, snagged his pant leg. The fingers were coated red, freshly painted in the color of life and death.
"Please..." the man garbled, "please...it's... not human... help...h...elp..." Spit and mucus slipped down a wobbly chin. "Not...hum..an..." The man's eyes closed, his breath a shaking rattle, his fingers still clenched tight on Zack's pants.
As gently as he could, Zack shook the man's hands off. There was nothing that could be done for him, or the other people that Zack could see littering the floor of the shadowed room. Broken, bloody, discarded... It was a macabre echo of the horror they'd witness within the Shin-Ra Tower and Zack was tempted to turn and tell Tifa to go back to the engine room and wait for him. She didn't need to see this—not again, not anymore—but she was already ahead of him, shoulders drawn up.
"He's here," she whispered, her voice tight; coiled. "I can feel it."
Zack flexed his fingers, hand itching to reach for his sword. He felt it too—the cold clamminess in air that was heavy with tension and...wrongness.
Ahead of them a figure lurched against the boiler, obscured by rising steam and inadequate light, causing both him and Tifa to take battle-ready positions.
A blood soaked white uniform came slowly into view. The stripes on the arm proclaimed the wearer as Captain, and before Zack could help him, the commander of the ship stumbled, righted himself momentarily, his eyes glazed with pain and desperation, before he pitched forward—dead even as he hit the floor.
Standing behind, cloaked in black leather and shadows, stood the former SOLDIER General, stained sword casually in hand.
"Sephiroth?" Zack whispered. He hated the way the name choked him.
Phosphorous green eyes blinked lazily from behind a veil of silver hair—glowing faintly with Mako and deadly intent.
Anger and fear coalesced in his veins and Zack's felt alive and leaden simultaneously. It was surreal, seeing the General again. Alive. Looking like he'd stepped straight out of Zack's memories.
He was paler—and perhaps thinner—but he was still Sephroth, with sharp angles and tight features, schooled into an expressionless mask.
Those eerie eyes flickered again—slanted pupils constricting and dilating—and Zack felt his skin crawl over too tight muscles as he shivered. Inhuman, was the word that skittered in his mind. Instinct had him stepping forward, placing himself directly in front of Tifa. In fight or flight—for Zack—there was only ever one option. "What the hell are you doing, Sephiroth?" he demanded.
Flicker.
"Fulfilling my destiny." Idle, the voice belied any emotion. In fact, Sephiroth sounded downright bored. "After such a long sleep, our time has finally come..."
"You didn't need to kill all these people!" Zack waved his hand to encompass the mass of bodies in the room.
"They are in our way." Simple, uncomplicated; dismissive.
Zack refused to be dismissed. "Yeah, well, now I'm in your way." His fingers tightened around the hilt of the Buster Sword.
Long hair strayed between arched brows as Sephiroth inclined his head. He took a step around the fallen Captain, the tip of Masamune trailing through pooled crimson. "Do you think I will not, Zack? Do you think I will hesitate to cut your insides from your belly?"
Zack flinched on his name. He recognized him. He knew him. It really was Sephiroth...
"Why do you hesitate?" Sephiroth continued in that same bored tone. "Is it because you once knew me?"
"No." Zack shook his head, but kept his eyes fastened on the man in front of him. "You stopped being the Sephiroth I knew when you became this—this monster."
An arch of lips, but the voice remained unchanged. "Are you so untainted, Puppy? Is there no blood on your hands? Come then," he invited, spreading his arms wide, "and cut me down as you did Angeal."
"Damn you!" Zack trembled, Sephiroth's words knocking the very breath from his body. It couldn't have been a more effectual blow had the wound been placed with steel. Zack felt it straight to his core; guilt and pain and grief sliced through him, cut his defense...
"You are as much a monster as you claim me to be."
In his mind he no longer saw Sephiroth's sickening green gaze, but Angeal's pale eyes; heard his mentor's rasping last words. Zack staggered back, fingers leaving the hilt of a sword he should never have owned. "Damn you to hell."
"Damn me?" Sephiroth shook his head, and this time his tone held dry amusement. "Hardly. I am as above damnation as Gods can be. You, on the other hand...your pathetic species is damned forever."
Species? Muffled echoes of foggy memories attempted to claw to the surface. Hojo's voice tugged at him—suffocating him. Needles and pain and skin peeled like fruit... Perfect specimens...new breed...new species...pain...so much pain...and drowning in a sea of green and sick...so sick...please...
"Zack." Tifa. Behind him, with her steady hands on his shoulders, supporting him. She was pale, clearly shaken, but her eyes glimmered with determination. "Don't let him get to you."
Fighting off the caustic tendrils of memory, Zack demanded, "What the hell happened to you?" This was not the man who had trained him—who had helped him become stronger and face the truths of Shin-Ra. This was someone...something... else altogether.
Malice curved thin lips. "I do not have the time to reminisce with you, Pup. I've come only to fulfill my birthright."
The distinct hum of Masamune's blade should have been warning enough, but even still Zack was too slow—or Sephiroth too fast—for him to dodge the attack completely. Shoving Tifa to the wall, Zack braced himself in front of her and hissed through his teeth at the slice of metal through flesh. Blood spurt from the gash in his arm.
"Zack! Watch out!" Tifa struggled to see over his shoulder.
But Sephiroth no longer had interest in them. He shimmered like an apparition and was gone between one blink and the next.
It was a few moments before either of them reacted. "You're hurt." Gentle, but sure, her fingers parted fabric to examine his wound.
"Don't." Zack tugged his arm away. "It's nothing."
She blinked up at him. "Zack...?"
His jaw tightened, eyes shut. It hurt—so much—right now, and he didn't want her to see...didn't want her to feel his pain. He'd already given her too much of that. "We should... get back the others."
There was a silent pause and he could feel her weighing out whether to push or relent. Finally, she stepped back, gave him his space and he fought the urge to grab her back.
"Okay, Zack."
"Well?" Barret met them at the door of the engine room, expectant and impatient. "Was it Sephiroth?"
Zack felt Tifa's eyes on him before she answered. "Yeah, it seems like it."
"It seems like it?" Barret repeated, brows knitted. "It is or it ain't, so which is it?"
"It's him," Zack inserted. He gave the group a long look, took in their tired, anxious faces. They needed rest—he needed rest. He felt sick and drained. "But he's gone now."
"Gone where? We're on a ship in the middle of the godsdamned ocean!"
"Barret, enough. Please." Weary, Tifa brushed her hair from her face, took a seat on one of the crates.
"You're bleeding!" Aerith gasped, rushing to her side.
Tifa glanced at the splatter on her shirt. "No, I'm not. Zack is."
Aerith turned. "You're hurt?" she asked, her eyes wide with concern.
"It's nothing," Zack repeated his earlier statement. Then, when her forehead furrowed, more gently, "Really, Aerith. I'm fine."
"Stop babying the boy," Barret rolled his eyes.
"What happened? We heard screams. Did you confront Sephiroth?" Red questioned.
Zack carded a hand through his dark hair, being careful not to meet Tifa's eyes when he replied. "Sort of."
"Sort of?" Barret shot him a narrow look, and then sent Tifa a searching glare. "What the hell kind of answer is that?"
She shrugged, drew her knees up to her chin.
Aerith twisted the bottom of her shirt. "So you saw him?"
Saw him, heard him, failed to stop him... "Yes."
"Did he say anything?"
Zack flinched. 'You are as much a monster as you claim me to be.'
"He said: 'Our time has finally come'." Tifa provided.
The words fell heavy and foreign amongst them, as though simply speaking them held consequence.
"What the blue leviathan does that mean?" Yuffie whined.
"So is he also searching for the Promised Land?" Red wondered aloud.
"That's probably a safe bet, yeah." Zack glanced at Aerith. "If it even exists."
"So, we're chasing a lunatic that's chasin' a fable? That about right?" Barret chuffed. "Perfect." Leaning back against the wall he crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. "Wake me when we dock."
"Are you sure we should stay in here?" Yuffie rolled a small green materia back and forth between her palms. "I mean, we're just kind of hanging out."
Zack adjusted his sword against his back. It felt too big and too heavy. "I think Shin-Ra has bigger problems than checking their Engine Rooms. We should be safe here, but just in case I'll take watch. The rest of you should get some sleep. We don't know what we'll be facing in Costa del Sol."
"But what about you?" Aerith reached out, touched his injured arm. "Shouldn't you rest too?"
"I'm SOLDIER," he replied, his tone flat even to his own ears. "I'll be fine."
"But, Zack..."
"Get some rest, okay?"
Aerith hesitated a moment before she stepped back. Graceful, in the way only she could be, she settled on the floor, her head propped on the curve of her arm. Red padded over and lay at her feet.
With a dainty shrug Yuffie flopped back against their discarded clothes and shut her eyes. "Nighty-night."
At the door Zack paused, feeling the steady pressure of Tifa's eyes on him. He sighed, resisted the urge to go to her. She didn't need his shit added to hers. "You should sleep," he told her without turning.
"Like I can," she murmured, voice muffled against her forearm.
Zack opened the door. "Try."
On the other side of cold steel Zack dropped his head back with a thud and swore beneath his breath. "You're as much a monster as you claim me to be."
You're a monster...
Guilt clawed his gut, doubled him over. "Damn it." His fist hit the floor, ground against the metal. He took a shuddering breath, focused himself, but like a parasite the words borrowed deep and festered.
Monster...
The door should have melted from the intensity of her stare.
Tifa winced as her teeth scraped the raw portion of her lower lip. She'd successfully gnawed the top layer off and was now working on removing the entire bottom lip. Who needed that anyway, right? She couldn't really whistle to begin with...and lisps could be cute...and her mind was wandering in some odd directions.
Anything to not think about Sephiroth and the fears and sickness he stirred in her heart...
Or Cloud and how much she hated never seeing him...never telling him...
Or Zack and all the pain he tried to hide...tried to shoulder...
Stop thinking.
Stop.
Ouch.
Tifa placed her fingertips to her mouth, patted away the dollop of blood her teeth had worried free.
"Maybe you should just go talk to him."
Tifa sighed, cocked her head. Aerith. "How long have you been awake?"
"Long enough to know you've successfully worn a hole in your lip."
"Yeah, well, a girl needs a hobby..." Tifa shrugged, tried to dismiss the conversation. She should have known better.
"Talk to him," Aerith whispered.
She was always direct. Tifa wasn't sure she liked or hated that about the other woman. Especially when it came to Zack. "He doesn't want to talk."
"Yes he does. He just doesn't know what to say."
A lack of words was not something Zack Fair suffered from, but Tifa decided not to argue the point. "You talk to him then."
Aerith scowled up at her through the shadows. "Don't be an idiot. He doesn't want to talk to me. He needs you."
Tifa shifted, her eyes back on the door, her teeth back on her lip. "He's hurting..." she finally whispered. "I hate that."
"I know. I do too." Aerith propped herself up on her elbow. "And I know you're hurting, and I know that this isn't easy. I don't know everything about your past...or even Zack's, but I do know that in this—you guys are bonded. You have this shared pain, and from what I have seen, it's not something either of you should have to shoulder alone. So...You going?"
A flutter in her stomach, a beat too fast in her chest... Yeah, she was going. Wiping her hands on her thighs, Tifa hopped from her cramped position on the crate. "You can be really pushy," she told Aerith when she stepped over her.
Aerith's smile was crooked. "Yeah, I know."
Fingers curled around the handle of the door, Tifa looked back over her shoulder. "Thank you, Aerith."
"For what?"
"For not letting me be a coward in this."
The crooked smile broadened and beamed. "Sometimes all anyone needs is a little push." Then, more serious but still with the sunbeam glow, "And faith. Believe in him, Tifa."
"I do," she opened the door.
He should have known she would come to him.
She always did when he needed her, but he had hoped not to burden her. Not this time.
"Hey," she said in that quiet, velvet over steel, voice of hers.
"You should be resting," he replied, gaze fixed on a spot above her head. He would be fine if he didn't look at her...if he didn't take in those dark eyes that swam with a million wonders, didn't watch those soft lips quirk and curl with her gentle words, didn't melt against those hands that held so much...
"I would be, if you were."
"I already told you all, I'm SOLDIER, I'm fine."
"It must have slipped my mind," she stated with dry dismissal. She leaned back against the wall, propped a boot and crossed her arms over her chest in a pose that was a surprisingly accurate imitation of Barret's familiar stance. She tapped her fingertips along her bicep. "Zack?"
He sighed. She was damn hard to ignore. "Yeah?"
"You aren't a monster."
Startled, he jerked his head towards her.
"SOLDIER, Shin-Ra, whatever they did—whatever they tried to do—it doesn't matter. You aren't like him."
Zack swallowed. "Tifa...I..."
She turned, faced him. "They can't take away who you are, Zack." She placed her palm to his chest. "Here, where it matters, you are Zack Fair. Not SOLDIER. Not anything else. Just...Zack."
"But you don't know..." He took a step back, her touch almost painful in how desperate he wanted it. How much he needed her words to be true. "I've done things, Tifa..."
"We all have."
He shook his head, grappled with the grief building in his throat. "Not like me."
Undaunted, she took a step toward him. "Tell me."
He didn't want to. He didn't want to see that soft concern replaced by hard malice or disgust. But she had a right to know. She had aligned herself with him—fought with him, and for him—she deserved to know that she was helping a fallacy.
"What Sephiroth said..." Gods, this hurt. "About me killing a mentor..." He closed his eyes, let out a slow exhale. "It's true."
"I know."
Wait, what? Zack opened his eyes; confused.
Tifa scuffed the toe of her boot along the floor. "It was in your Shin-Ra file."
"Wait, when did you—?"
"Jessie." Tifa paused on the name. "When you first approached us...when you wanted in...Barret had Jessie search your history." She tilted her head down, bangs veiling her face. "I'm...I'm sorry."
Zack swallowed, cleared his throat and tried to digest what he'd just been told. "No, no, it's understandable...I mean Barret was just looking out for you guys—"
"Not for that," she cut in. "For you. For what you must have felt. For what you had to do. I'm sorry. It must have been terrible..."
Zack remembered the pain, and rage, and helplessness. He remembered hating Angeal for forcing his hand, and grieving over the loss of his friend. He remembered being afraid that without Angeal to guide him that he'd be lost.
"Tell me...about him. About Angeal, was it?"
"Yeah, Angeal."
Tifa slanted him a look. "What was he like?"
"Tifa, I killed him." He couldn't escape that one fact.
Quiet, she searched his face. "I read the file myself, Zack. I saw your report. He killed himself, and used you as the weapon. It was cowardly and cruel."
"Tifa!"
"But I know that's not the man that taught you to be the fighter you are," she continued, "so tell me about him." She reached out, tentative and slightly shaking, to brush his hair out of his eyes. "Tell me about your friend. I want to know of the man you aspire to be like."
Breath hitched in his lungs. Gods above, she was too good for him. Unconsciously, he moved into her touch, pressed himself closer. "Angeal...he saved me," His voice cracked, stuttered. It was hard to breathe. "They were my friends. They were my brothers...and they became...something else." Images of Wings and Mako and tubes of liquid pain flashed through his mind.
"Shhh, it's okay." She threaded her fingers through his hair. "It's okay, Zack."
"Tifa." He pulled her roughly into his arms, buried his face in the thick mass of her hair. "Don't let me become like them."
Arms twined tight, she held fast. Even though she knew nothing of his rambling, he was sure, she still promised, "I won't, Zack. I won't." And within her embrace the demons and monsters retreated.
Her lips feathered his cheek and her words soothed the tension from his body. He lifted his head, only enough to see her, and felt the wrongness left in the wake of Sephiroth shift and fade. How she did that, he didn't know—and how he ever managed a single day without her before was a mystery. But she was with him now, and he was never, ever letting go.
He shifted them so she had her back pressed to his chest, and his arms bracketed her close. Leaning back against the wall he started to talk. About SOLDIER and about Angeal. The halting words soon loosened and before long his chest rumbled with soft chuckles and remembered fondness.
Inquisitive and interested, Tifa asked him details and encouraged him until her eyes drooped and his voice scratched from use.
Zack rubbed the flat of his hands along her arms, pressed small kisses against the curve of her shoulder and neck. "Thank you," he murmured, feeling lighter than he had in many, many months.
"You're welcome." She smiled against his forearm.
"It's almost dawn," he mouthed against her ear. "You should try and get some sleep."
"Attention Dock Workers, we will be arriving in Costa Del Sol in fifteen minutes. Prepare for docking!"
Tifa yawned, glowered at the intercom. "So much for that idea."
Zack rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that."
"Don't be. It was nice hearing about your good memories. Come on, let's go wake the others."
Zack placed his hand on hers. His heart thundered in his chest. "Wait."
"What is it?"
Words, he was good with them, right? So, why then, were they stuck on the roof of his mouth? "Tifa...I..."
"What the hell? Why are you two down here? Didn't you hear the announcement? Docking in fifteen! Get ready!" Down the corridor a chubby little man clapped his hands together, made great big shooing motions before ambling up the stairwell.
Wide-eyed, Tifa stared after him. "You know, we really should be thankful that Shin-Ra hires so many imbeciles." She pushed open the Engine Room door. "C'mon, let's get going."
Behind her, Zack blew out a breath. "Yeah...thanks, Shin-Ra. Thanks a lot."
AN: Wow, that was a MASSIVE wall of writer's block I had. I chiseled and chiseled and now I think I am through! **is hopeful that there are still readers** I am so sorry. Thank you all so much for your patience and for taking the time to review and encourage. I assure you, you do inspire and help!! THANK YOU!! I hope this chapter was to your liking--I know angsty Zack can be a bit much for some people--lol More soon!
Costa del Sol next...maybe with a hammock and some snuggles...