a/n - there's nothing to put in for cloud's mom, so just...she's in this fic, too. just so you know and probably so you can click away :P (cause who gives a shit about her, right?)
...
The minute her mother left for her part-time job, Cloud raced upstairs to where the attic door, in between her bedroom and her mother's bedroom, waited. She shoved it with just the right amount of force, smirking when it gave in. Once she got the ladder from the closet in her mother's bedroom, she stuck it right underneath the opening and started climbing. After ensuring that there were no pests waiting to bite her while she poked her head in (besides a few dead rats and roaches, long since decayed), she crawled into the narrow space.
She was lucky she wasn't any older—if a ten year old barely fit in the attic, she doubted an adult had any place in this spot at all. It didn't help that there was so much dust everywhere that she felt like she was developing lung cancer. The darkness obscured most of the particles floating in the air, but that was a short-lived, ignorant pleasantness the minute Cloud realized she needed a flashlight if she wanted to see anything of value at all. As she went to get one, again from the closet, she wondered why the attic wasn't locked like it normally was.
For as long as she could've remembered, that door in the ceiling of the house was off-limits. Vague memories of her mother boarding it up when she was very young flashed into her mind, and she realized that it was a rather extreme measure—she had no interest in it as a little girl and her mother certainly never bothered with it, at least not when she was awake. Perhaps that was the problem: what she was like in the night as Cloud slept.
The older she got, the less she seemed worried about the attic, eventually removing the nails and boards. She still never went into it in the daytime. Cloud would occasionally drop a passing mention of it, maybe indicate some interest in looking at the interior, and ask about it until absolute terror seized her mother. She'd claim there were horrible, rabid creatures waiting to eat her in the attic or if she went in, the door would seal itself shut and she'd be stuck in there forever. More disturbed by her reactions than her words, Cloud agreed not to do it only because it brought her mother peace.
She was a very frazzled individual all the time, constantly restless and stricken with a sense of urgency that Cloud never comprehended, as if she didn't do something immediately, someone would show up and kill her and her daughter. She was also paranoid, obsessed with the idea of having a partner for "protection" and constantly muttering nonsense about spies whenever she saw something about Shinra in the news.
In fact, she was so scared that she refused to let Cloud attend school. She taught her the essentials, reading and writing, but if Cloud was asked to do anything more mathematically complex than adding and subtracting…Gods, help her.
She still loved her a whole lot—she was her world—but sometimes she couldn't help but find her a little too unnerving. Why was she so scared?
So after waiting her entire life for this moment, there were no words for her all-consuming disappointment when she clicked on the flashlight and saw one black book shoved into the farthest corner of the attic. Her heart fell out of her stomach.
That's it? She's scared of a stupid book? Cloud made her way over to it, scowling at it as though that would make her sudden frustration disappear. Well, I dunno—maybe there's some blood n' guts in here or something. Maybe it's cursed… She dusted off the cover, coughing as disgusting grey clouds rose up from her swatting, then squinted at the emblazoned, silver text once the clouds cleared.
Project…S-2? Huh? There's no name on it or anything…
She flipped through a few pages, noting how yellow they were. It was quite old, no doubt its age being worsened by all the filth in the attic. There was a chance it was from the previous owners of the house.
Wait—what's this? Log…date…4-11-85? Initiation of Project S-2…cloning—backup cloning? Science stuff?
Very strange science stuff, from what she was seeing. There were a lot of blurry, washed out photographs of all kinds of weird machinery and embryo-looking…things. A lot of embryos. A few pictures showed people in lab coats, glasses obscuring their eyes, smiling as they leaned against entire racks filled with them. Why so many? Were they human or something else?
She studied the words pointing to the pictures with embryos, she wanted to learn the most about them.
Log 6-19-85. I'm nervous, but hopeful. Specimens A and B show the most promise so far, as they have proven to be extremely resilient. Not many have survived due to spontaneous mutations…Very similar to what we had to deal with in the original Project S! But we've since streamlined the process, and we're already looking to have the first batch incubated by November. They tell you not to grow attached to any of these "things", of course, otherwise you won't want to further science…but it's hard not to when they have a little bit of you inside them. It's only natural to want to protect whatever was originally a part of your body! Hojo tells me that it's that accursed "motherly instinct" that prevents women from becoming just as great as their male peers—it's supposedly what killed her, right when she was about to overtake his position—but I think his masculinity blinds him. He never cares about his son. Only interested in how much he can destroy…
A pit was forming in the bottom of Cloud's stomach. Something told her that she wasn't supposed to be looking at this. Yet, at the same time, something compelled her to continue reading, to continue…learning. I don't…what's going on here? Who's Hojo? Project S and Project S-2?
The next few pages had skipped a couple of months—now they were in December. She froze at the photos of tiny, humanoid bodies, condensed into small, sad balls and suspended in bizarre chambers, which were flocked by swathes of people in lab coats. There were so many wires and tubes feeding into the little ones. Too many, it looked…painful. It must've hurt. It had to hurt. And there were so many people staring at them! She shuddered, feeling bad for the ones trapped in the chambers. Cold, dark, scared, alone. They must've been so, so scared…
Without thinking, she drew her knees up to her chest, shivering again. The attic was suddenly much colder than she remembered.
Log 12-11-85. It has begun! I'm supposed to keep watch on Subject AB-86, which I am fine with—after all, I contributed to their existence. Ah, I just remembered what Hojo said to me…"Do not use pronouns for our experiments!" Yes, yes, there is that risk of "humanization", but I find it so difficult not to see my work as more of my own. Lucrecia had a point when she told me all those years ago about…
The rest was illegible. Annoyed, but also vaguely thankful (while wondering about the identity of this "Lucrecia"), Cloud flipped the page. She nearly dropped the book at what greeted her.
Her mother, dressed like all the other scientists in previous photos, was hugging a glistening, writhing, meat-like mass of incoherently tangled tentacles and tendrils, smiling as though she just met an old friend she hadn't talked to in years. The caption underneath it read, 3-19-86. I know I'm breaking the code of conduct, but I couldn't resist letting her out of her tank. I'm the only one she's gentle with…could it be because I'm raising one of her children? Something similar happened with Lucrecia…
She set the book down, trying to process all of the new information. Not only did her mother work for Shinra, but she was a scientist of some sort for this Project S-2. What exactly was her role? Why in the Gods' name was she referring to an unholy abomination with a lady's pronouns? "One of her children"? And again, who was Lucrecia? Too many questions that she couldn't ever get the answers to—her head started to hurt, and she assumed the fetal position as she tried to make any sense of it all.
After a few moments of pensive reclination, she returned to the book. She needed to understand something—anything about Project S-2. She needed to at least see the end result.
Skipping a bunch of pages filled with, apparently, pictures capturing the development of another human being (again trapped in one of those sinister glowing chambers, filled with wires), she stopped at the end, where one massive, clear photo in color stared back at her—it was a toddler, with unnaturally long, silvery hair and bright green eyes, dressed in yellowing rags and sopping wet, as though they had been in the pool for far too long. They stared up into the camera, their blank expression suggesting their disorientation and curiosity, reminiscent of when baby animals first opened their eyes, trying to comprehend the immense, new reality that surrounded them. And she couldn't help but think of a little version of the general when she looked at their face again… Underneath the photo was a date.
Cloud's birthday. Followed by, She's here! My little angel is here!
Confused and alarmed at the implications, Cloud burst into tears.
...
"What's the matter, sweetie? You haven't eaten any of your dinner…"
Cloud picked at a piece of steak that was being absorbed by her mashed potatoes, then glanced up at her mother with bitter detachment. Her genuine concern stung more than anything the other children could've done to her. "I'm not hungry."
"What's bothering you?" Her voice was saccharine, full of caring, gentle loveliness that typically swaddled her whenever something went wrong.
But now it burned her ears. She felt her face flush. "My head hurts." She was being partially truthful. Her chest hurt more.
"Oh…" Now the concern was worsening, morphing into fear. It was an appropriate expression—everyone should've been afraid of her. She was, after all, just a science project. "Do you feel warm? Nauseous? Any chills or other aches?"
"No, it's just…I want to be alone…" She got off her chair and started toward her room, only stopping when her mother raced over.
"Cloud, it's okay to tell me," she said in a quiet and sincere voice, a voice that could deceive anyone into spilling their deepest, darkest secrets. "Did those kids do something to you again? Or did they say something?"
Despite the brushes of her mother's hands against her arms, Cloud started to ascend the stairs. She didn't bother to look behind her. "No. Something else bad happened today."
"What? Please tell me, I can—we can work something out—"
"I went into the attic."
She went into her room, settling in her bed, without being disturbed any further.
It's okay if you hate me now. I deserve it.
...
Her rest was not long before someone knocked on the door.
"Cloud…could you tell me what you saw in the attic?"
She groaned and buried her face in one of her pillows. "Why do you care? It's too late. I already saw it."
She opened the door, her face ashen with panic and…pity? Of course she was pitying her, she wasn't born like a nice, normal human being.
"I…I was hiding it to protect you. I didn't want you seeing it, ever, in your life because, well…" She sat down on the edge of her bed. Cloud didn't budge from her suffocating position. "No one deserves to know about something like that."
"Doesn't matter, does it? I'm still a monster no matter if I knew all about myself or I didn't—just a stupid…terrible…" She couldn't keep up with her anger anymore and she felt herself giving into the deluge of misery that had been building up from within, and as the tears started up again, the lump in her throat making it impossible to speak clearly, she throttled and punched the pillows, repeatedly. Yes, it was an embarrassing tantrum she hadn't done in years, but by the gods, she needed to do something, no matter how futile it ultimately would be. "I hate this! I hate this, I hate everything and I hate…I hate…"
She never finished her sentence. The tears drowned out everything.
Somewhere in her fits her mother embraced her, and despite all she felt toward her now, the thing she wanted the most was her warmth. Her racing, furious mind lulled as she shushed her, rocking her back and forth, humming a little tune she had known since forever. Perhaps she had sung it to her while she slept in her chamber all those years ago…Either way, her muscles relaxed, and gradually, her pain shrank back into a sad, whimpering calm.
Gripping her sleeves, Cloud sniffled a couple of times, only croaking out a "Mama" before descending a milder fit of tears, calming down when she started stroking her back.
"Cloud, I want you to know something," she said, hugging her more tightly when she nestled her face into the front of her apron. "You…will probably not forgive me for what I've done to you. And that's okay. What I've done isn't excusable. I'm not looking for a reprieve. What I hope is that, someday, you understand that ever since I helmed the beginnings of Project S-2, I've loved you. I've never judged you or despised you or thought less of you…You're my angel, my little girl. You're the reason why I quit working for them…I couldn't bear to see what they were planning to do to you. You deserved better than what was determined for you. I know I can't provide much, I know I'm not always the best mother that can be…but I love you. I love you more than what words can capture. And I only want you to be happy…Cloud, what I want is that, eventually, you can forgive and accept yourself. It might take a while, you might think it's impossible to do so, but I will always be there to support you. Even…even when I'm no longer here, I will be with you in spirit…I just wanted you to know that." She planted a loving kiss on her daughter's forehead.
When Cloud looked up at her, she smiled, and they embraced once more.