Trapdoor (Part 25)

by anza (26.12.05)

At exactly two o'clock in the afternoon, an exuberant Zack burst through the door, caroling at the top of his lungs. Cloud's wince showed no more than a twitch of his eyebrow, but he supposed he now owed Yazoo a new mp3 player, as he had finally discovered someone with a worse singing voice than Loz.

"Christmas is over," he intoned flatly, watching his superior with detached interest.

"Nuh-uh!" Zack shook one finger at him, and Cloud resisted the impish urge to snap his head forward and bite it off. "Christmas is twenty-four hours, 365 days a year in THIS company! And you, my boy," he slung an arm around Cloud's shoulders, "have received a very nice present from Santa Zack this year. You see, the Board has agreed to accept your proposal. Time for Production to get their butts into gear!"

From the corner of his eye, Cloud watched as Kadaj gave him a look.

He had thought it over, and decided to stay. He wanted to know why the Turks wanted him now, when they could have snatched him almost a decade ago. Zack -

- cavorted around the table once, singing an improvised "Congratulations!" song, and then flicked the pen out of his hand. Pulling him to his feet, he gave an exaggerated motion with his hands to Kadaj, who watched the proceeds with stunned eyes from the safety of the door. "Just gonna borrow your darling guardian for a bit, alright?" He threw back his head and laughed, and while the leery "respectable" side of Cloud reeled in horror, the vacationing, timidly easygoing side of Cloud laughed along.

Apparently it'd been all planned, security waving them both easily through. Nibelheim was still covered in snow, dirty gray and black clumps of it solidifying into ice. Cloud accidentally slipped on one, arms and legs waving helplessly before Zack hoisted him out of danger. There was one second where Cloud thought, if he was sure Zack swung that way, he would have kissed him without hesitation. But Kadaj's pretty face - because it WAS pretty, it just wasn't all Cloud was after - floated up, and his heart gave that familiar lurch, and he knew Zack, if interested, would have to hang on a little while longer.

They sat down in a cafe, bustling with people on late lunch breaks, and ordered coffee and cake. Zack stared out of the window, smiling, brown eyes faraway in thought that Cloud was loathe to disturb him out of. If he was going by appearances alone, Zack looked nothing like a Turk. The worst Cloud could call him so far was "annoying", but the best he could call him was "merry". Even "gallivanting", if he was particularly verbose at the time. He knew Zack had a dark side - but he also could see Zack had accepted it, and didn't let it rule him. His strength was precisely why Cloud wanted to stay, though he wasn't about to admit it - it had just been a long, long time since he felt this much uncertainty in his future.

"So howzit going, Rowe? Other than the proposal getting accepted, that is." Zack's eyes swung towards him, and Cloud had the sudden feeling he was being x-rayed, examined under fluorescent headlights while strapped to a hospital table.

"Fine, I guess." Cloud couldn't hold that intense gaze.

"Still going after Kane?" The smile was lightly teasing now, but there was a vein of seriousness under it that let Cloud know Zack understood his need to get away for a little while.

He was so, so tempted to ask about the Turks. But if Zack wasn't - oh, who was he kidding? There was a ninety percent chance Zack WAS a Turk.

"Only if you are."

Zack's eyebrows waggled. "If you'd let me go anywhere near fifty feet of him with those intentions, I might." Cloud laughed purely at the absurdity of the chagrined look on his companion's face.

It'd seemed a lifetime ago since he'd felt happy. How many weeks had passed? Three? Yet light and happiness were clouded, fuzzy memories shining dimly in the back of his head, like faint footprints in the sand. Kadaj had faced him and said they were working too hard. He had faced himself and admitted he was running away. In the past three weeks, with the names of Yazoo and Loz and the Turks burned into the forefront of his mind, he had burned his candle six feet in the ground. It was almost as if he'd remembered the names of the people important to him, but completely forgotten their faces or the memories behind them.

Cloud Strife was a serious person by nature. But almost a decade of working and doing almost nothing else had taught him relaxing was a positive thing, as long as it didn't take first priority. Little things, like doing katas, going to his favorite coffeeshop in the morning, waking late on weekends, he had to rediscover these things now. He remembered himself - but the shock of being pursued by the Turks -

- "Hey." Zack waved a hand in front of his face. "Earth to Rowe. Rowe my man, come in...the food's getting cold, if you don't eat it fast, I'll eat it for you." The blond twitched in annoyance and began to dig into his food. The dark-haired President gave a chuckle and followed suit.

It was surprisingly easy to make small talk, especially with Zack. He asked inconsequential questions, made little snide remarks and upon receiving further details, he cracked jokes. Even straight-faced Cloud laughed outright at some of them. The afternoon wore on forever, the sun dipping slowly behind the thick clouds, turning the city blue with twilight. It wasn't until the streetlamps had been turned on that Zack pounded the table from the hilarity of his latest dig at Luke's slobby office that he threw money on the table, kissed the blushing waitress, and pulled Cloud of the cafe. Cloud was relatively sure he'd never talked with anyone for three hours straight, but with Zack - impossible things became possible. The exuberance, the energy and the enthusiasm he exuded infected everyone, Cloud included. Even lazing in the cafe, everything Zack did was animated and lively, encouraging Cloud to smile and laugh more than he had in ages.

Kadaj was waiting for them when they got home, looking through some files. He greeted them both warmly when they came in, eyes wide at the smile that couldn't seem to leave his oldest brother's mouth. But after a moment, his green eyes were shining with gratitude at Zack for having pumped some life into his favorite nii-san.

Cloud wanted, for not the first time in his life but certainly the strongest it'd been in a long time, that the day would stretch into eternity.

It wasn't until bedtime that the first sign of future trouble arose. Kadaj had just gone in after Cloud and Zack started (not very seriously) debating the idea of Cloud paying rent, since he and Kadaj had technically stayed here for a month. Zack insisted it was not problem - and it wasn't, as Cloud had idly pulled up Zack's salary figures the other day during his search - but Cloud knew this wasn't proper behavior. Either way, he would have to repay Zack's kindness. He didn't want to think about if Zack was a Turk and was currently selling information about Cloud and Kadaj's whereabouts, if this kindness needed repayment in that situation. He quoted figures from the newspaper, but Zack still managed to push him into his room, arguing fiercely that he didn't mind having company in his house, especially not such good-looking company.

Cloud heaved a sigh, leaning against the dresser next the door. The light from the living room streamed through the doorway, lighting only half of Zack's face, giving a haunted look to his features. "I guess you're not gonna give in today," he murmured, but Zack heard.

"I'm not gonna give in any day, Rowe!" Zack's hand was a solid, warm grip against his upper arm, and when he looked up and met those determined bright eyes, the now-SOLDIER Co. employee felt dizzy from the wave of deja-vu and vitality. They stood together there, two men, and Cloud wondered idly that if he stepped forward into those arms, would Zack hold close him until the morning?

The silence behind him was suddenly threatening. Like an electric shock, he turned, remembering Kadaj was there.

His youngest brother had dressed for bed and was pulling the cover silently back, one leg slipping after another into bed. As Cloud watched wordlessly, that lithe body lay down softly with a sigh, and then those dreamlike pale spiders of hands pulled the blankets back up. Like an absent thought that caught on the barbed wire surrounding his mind, he was abruptly feeling/remembering the nights before, with Kadaj so close, back-to-back, close enough so that if he reached out even a little, his youngest brother was there, all green eyes and pliant lips, silver hair as perfect as his night fantasies.

Desire spiraled inside of him, its smoke trapped in his throat. He was choking on a noose of his own making. Zack would be beautiful in bed, all tanned skin and dark hair, his energy undoubtedly would bring him to some higher passion, some higher plateau than he'd ever gone before - but he would be tonight, and the next, and the next, until Cloud gathered enough courage to gouge his own eyes out so he would never have to look at Kadaj ever again. It would be a lie, and after this afternoon, he wasn't going to betray anyone with false emotion.

He looked up into those bright eyes, and recognized the spark of hunger in those depths as one of his own. But not for you, my friend, he thought quietly, not tonight, and hopefully not ever. Tomorrow will be different - if I find out you're a Turk tomorrow, I won't hesitate to run away with Kadaj in tow. But tonight, I'll trust you and your lies of safety, because you reminded me I was once a whole person, and still am.

"Goodnight," he murmured, covering that tanned hand with his own, and then gently detaching it from his arm. "I'll see you tomorrow, Zack." There was no wavering in his voice or in his hands. He stared steadily at his boss, watching at that spark flared in defiance for a moment, then died, suffocated by his withholding of desire. Zack swallowed, smile faltering, but then a wan warmth entered his eyes, and he nodded. Cloud was about to close the door when a hand shot out and caught it. Zack's bright eyes peered into the lighted crack from the living room.

"Rowe?" The blond moved into view, puzzled. "Do you know anything about Item 523?"

----------

"We want you to become a Turk," Tseng said. The handsome Wutaian paced the floor between the coffee table and the head of the stairs, seemingly addressing himself more than Cloud.

"No." Cloud's answer was flat and final.

He glanced at Sephiroth's wary green eyes, and then at Tseng's inscrutable black ones. They were different, and yet the same. Both were Turks; both were the enemy. Something in Cloud died at the thought. These people, the same people he interacted with every day, wanted him to become dangerous, wanted him to do things that were wrong. How could he? How could he when he had three boys to be an example for?

"Do you know who Kadaj is?"

"The youngest son of three sons. The son of Hiyoumi Nakayama and Yone Helsinki." His eyes pressed Tseng to deny the next statement: "A product of love that, due to fortuious circumstances, fell into my custody."

The Wutaian smiled faintly, so fleeting an expression Cloud almost missed it. "That was not what I was trying to say." But you implied it, the blond thought, simmering, and all of them knew it. "I asked, did you know Kadaj's father was the right hand man of the previous godfather?"

Cloud managed to keep his face perfectly calm, though his eyes blazed. His mind scrambled for something to say, coming up with nothing, and then filed the statement into the back of his mind. It could be a lie. But deep inside of his heart, Cloud knew it was true, because he was too far up on Shin-Ra Company to threaten idly, and that if the Turks were really going to threaten to take away his brothers, they would need ample incentive. Leverage, Cloud gritted his teeth.I will not be trapped!

"Certainly you know Sephiroth is a Turk." His adoptive older brother had the shame to look away from him. "Now, your duties as a Turk would include working with the sales sector of our armament sales. Right now Reeve is in charge of it, but he wants to switch to the intimidation sector. We'll start you out with just rifles - not a problem, I hope?"

But Cloud was already making up an escape plan.

----------

How could he have forgotten Zack was a Turk?

The problem wasn't that he forgot; he never forgot Zack was a Turk. But like the names of Yazoo and Loz that had lost their meanings, the word Turk had lost its meaning after he'd repeated a million times in his head. It had simply faded into a black stain, seemingly impenetrable and incomprehensible. As he slid into bed, hand feeling for Kadaj's, he berated himself for forgetting what was precious to him. He couldn't possibly think he had outrun the Turks, though he could hope. He couldn't believe Zack wasn't a Turk and a threat to his and Kadaj's safety. Sooner or later he had to leave once danger made itself apparent, and he was thinking now, as he had many times in the last three weeks, that maybe it was better to risk living elsewhere. He couldn't be completely free of suspicion in any other place, and though SOLDIER Jeans Co. had iffy practices like Shin-Ra Company and probably every other corporation, he knew he should move somewhere else. There was no hope he would find employment devoid of shady practices, but it wasn't safe, he could feel it...

Kadaj squeezed his hand once as if to ask, What's wrong?

Cloud looked over at his brother. Snow was falling silently, and the silhouettes of snowflakes from the window spread over the hardwood floor and crept partway up the bed. Dark shapes spiraled down over Kadaj's face as Cloud watched, unable and unwilling to say anything. Green eyes fairly glowed in the dark, tracing the curve of his face, the slope of his nose, the lax curl of his lips. The moment was so quiet and peaceful that Cloud was content to do nothing.

He tried to say it with his eyes, knowing there was no such thing as telepathy, and that Kadaj wasn't related to him anyway. He tried to say that he was a fool, that he had forgotten what was important but that he'd remembered now, that he loved Kadaj in a way a brother never should, that the trapdoor was still lying there under the bed even if they couldn't see it. He tried to say he was sorry. But he was sure his brother only saw him thinking deeply, looking at him as if he was afraid his silver-haired happiness would disappear in a confused maelstorm of Turks and mafia and blood.

I have a responsibility, he tried to say. Maybe sometime in some other world, I'd love you until kingdom come and trumpets sound, but here, surrounded by uncertainty, I've got to keep you safe.

Any indiscretion could be the death of both of us.

But Kadaj's green eyes blinked, eyebrows tilting in a frown, and Cloud knew he didn't understand.