A/N: Installment two!
A little early because I'll be out of town tomorrow. Thank you to those who reviewed the story this far. Feedback is important and helps writers grow...and smile.
Shatterglass
By Catsitta
2. THE DAMAGE
Cloud's first day back home was met with a queer mix of celebration and quiet tension. Friends and co-workers cheered him for his win, while remaining avoidant at the mention of Fenris. It appeared Sephiroth was the only one willing to give him direct answers, and he was Cloud's fiercest rival. One might say his friends were trying to be tactful and not upset him while he rested, but it was more distressing than helpful. He made it through until evening until he lost his patience and cornered a hovering Tifa, who kept insisting on taking care of him until she was sure he was okay.
They were in Cloud's room inside Barret's house. When he moved to Costa Del Sol, he had no money and no connections, so after gaining employment with the man, he managed to beg a place to stay. After much swearing and some rather creative threats about what he'd do if Cloud didn't hold his weight around the stables, he agreed to let the blond stay in his guest room. Three years and another couple strays later, it was home. The man grumbled about his space being invaded, but never made any gesture to get his rent paying guests to leave.
"Tifa, look, I need a straight answer. Where is Fenris?"
The brunette looked down, hands clenching the quilt covering the twin-sized bed she sat on. Her bent shoulders and unreadable expression made the normally tough-looking girl seem fragile. When she wasn't standing tall, her muscular form moving with the practiced grace of a trained martial artist, but half-curled into herself like a naughty child...she reminded him of that spoiled rich girl she used to be, all skirts and mocking little Cloud for being small and fatherless, yet afraid of any kind of scolding for her actions.
"Teef..."
"He's not here," she mumbled.
"I know that," Cloud retorted, swiping a hand through his spiky locks. "So where is he?"
Tifa brought a hand to her lap and drummed her fingers against her thigh, "...Midgar."
"What?"
"MIDGAR!" she shouted, standing and putting herself nearly nose-to-nose with him. Tears glimmered in wine-colored eyes. "He's in Midgar."
Cloud frowned, "Why would be there? If he's injured, shouldn't he be here...or at a local rehabilitation center?"
"ShinRa"
"Shin...Ra?"
Tifa tucked back a lock of hair behind her ear, "It was kinda sudden. Shortly after you were discharged from the hospital, Barret received a call from someone at ShinRa, requesting that Fenris be brought from the Gold Saucer's care unit, to theirs, for his follow up surgeries and rehabilitation. Midgar has the best medical and veterinary hospitals in the world, so when he heard that your chocobo could be treated there, all costs covered...he said yes."
"Surgery? All costs covered...Tifa, why did no one tell me any of this? He's my chocobo!"
"We didn't want you to worry," she replied. "We know how you get when something goes wrong."
"So I'm not allowed to get angry?"
"It's not your fault..."
"Fenris might have to be euthanized because of me! How am I not to blame?"
"Cloud," Tifa stood and reached out for the blond, who was breathing heavily, hands clenched. "Cloud please. Calm down and rest."
"Don't touch me." She retracted her hands, clutching them to her chest. "Just...get out. Tell Barret I'll be a good boy and rest." His tone was acerbic, words dripping with venomous sarcasm.
Tifa sighed and walked to the door, pushing it open, "Don't hole yourself in here for too long, okay?" When Cloud put his back to her, she sighed and left. Leaving the blond alone in the little bedroom by himself.
Normally, this place felt comfortable and cozy. Its walls crammed with racing posters, bookshelves and motorcycle schematics offered a snug reminder of his childhood home. But it felt suffocating instead. Cloud clenched his hands, tighter than before, blunt fingernails bitting into calloused palms. He sucked in a shuddering breath, ignoring the persistent ache that throbbed through every muscle in his body. Fatigue made his heady fuzzy and his body quiver. But he remained standing. Overheated and battling a swelling ache in belly.
As the sting of tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, Cloud turned sharply around and slammed his fist into the wall. Had he been at full strength, he would have left a hole in the plaster, but instead he created a sizable dent and made his whole arm scream in pain. Ever since Sephiroth told him about Fenris, guilt and worry ate at his nerves, thinly veiled behind a wall of denial. It had been like perceiving the world through a glass wall or while wearing a rubber skin. But now that the glass was shattered, he felt raw. Exposed. Unable to keep himself pieced together with desperate hope that Sephiroth was wrong, and that Fenris was just overexerted and needed rest.
He jerked away from the wall and rubbed his face with both hands, scrubbing his cheeks and brows in a fruitless attempt at soothing his throbbing head.
A low whine built in his throat, but he swallowed it and moved forcefully toward the window. It required him to climb over his desk and fumble with blinds that never quite worked right, but he eventually bathed in the last glow of sunset. Night would swallow up the city of sunshine soon. Cloud clawed at the latches until the window came unlocked and pulled it up. Late summer air greeted him as he drew in a steadying breath.
"I need to get out of here," he mumbled as he ducked through the open frame and dropped into flower bed below. Cloud lifted a boot to make sure he didn't trample any of the blossoms. Barret's adopted daughter Marlene was very fond of her garden. A fussy four year old was sometimes scarier than the hulking wall of a man she called daddy. Once assured that the flowers were safe, he skittered away from the window toward the stables. A grassy hill separated him from where the chocobos were kept and trained.
Exhausted limbs protested every movement. The uphill trek a strain on his still-mending muscles. But he kept going. Moving. Moving. Moving. When he arrived at the top, he stared down at the gated area. It was a small but practical set up, perfect for the small stable to use for its mounts. With built hills and dug out trenches and water traps made to help prepare for the races. Cloud sank to the ground and sat in the grass.
The anger and frustration sank back behind that glass wall.
He felt numb.
Not even the kiss of winter's distant promise upon the evening wind brought about a shiver.
Dawn was chasing away the moon and stars by the time Cloud rose from his spot on the hill and trudged back to the house. He briefly wondered, as he crept through the window, if anyone even noticed he was gone.
.x.
"Oi, where's Spike? He's 'sposed to help me prep Tiny Bronco for his maiden race."
Cid Highwind, often called Captain, was the trainer at the stables he and Cloud worked. The former aerospace engineer did not like talking about why he abandoned a lucrative career in Rocket Town and started working with racing chocobos. Whenever pressed, the shaggy blond would mutter something about 'space', 'Shera' and 'ShinRa', before lighting up a cigarette. Regardless of his past, he was a good trainer and was right in place with Barret's team of misfits.
The big boss man himself gave Cid a puzzled look, "What'cha mean? I told broody-boy to find you half an hour ago. He shouldn't race real hard right now, but nothin' fuckin' stopping him sitting on a chocobo's back as he runs 'round in a circle."
Neither Barret or Cid noticed the subject of their conversation peeking around the edge of the little brick house. Cloud watched with a strange heaviness in his gut as the two men talked on the front porch.
"Little shit musta gone off to sulk some more 'bout Fenris," Barret eventually surmised. There was a hint of worry in his tone as he crossed meaty arms over his barrel chest. His prosthetic gleamed from his right elbow down, the metallic material a sharp contrast to his dark skin. "I'll find 'im. Give the boy a good shake and send him your way."
Cid rubbed the back of his head and grimaced, free hand twitching toward the box of smokes tucked in his pants pocket. Barret forbade smoking within a certain distance of the house, not wanting to aggravate little Marlene's asthma. Funny how much fatherhood could change a man. He even tried to quell his swearing when she was in earshot—though he failed more often than he succeeded.
"Thanks, boss," the trainer said, turning and strolling down the front steps. As he followed the path around the edge of the house, he dug out his cigarettes, careful not to light them while still in sight of the porch.
Luckily for Cloud, he went around the opposite side from where he stood. Not hiding, per se. But standing out of sight.
It had been a week since he returned home, and while he was still weak and queasy, most of his former energy and durability had returned. It was like coming down from a cold. If he pushed too hard, he hurt and slept deeply, and he needed to avoid certain foods as well as riding in the backseat of cars (because motion sickness was an utter delight when your stomach started off uneasy). But he was quite capable of returning to most of his usual day-to-day tasks, as long as he was careful.
The strange thing was, the idea of helping Cid with Tiny Bronco made his gut roil. Normally, prepping for the races was a tedious but exhilarating process, as they tried to boost form and temper any bad habits the chocobo may have. He lost track of the number of birds he worked out or assisted in rearing.
Cloud bit his lip and drew in a steady breath.
There was no reason to avoid helping Cid like he promised. He just...didn't want to help. Honestly, he did not have to do so. It wasn't part of his job. He just did it because he liked working with chocobos and prepping them for races helped build their bond and made it easier to know their quirks. He ran his thumb across his brow, ignoring the tremor that rattled through his nervous system and the dampness creeping beneath his shirt collar.
Turning, he made for the back of the house, but a heavy weight on his should stopped him.
He peeked up.
Barret apparently made good on his promise to find Cloud and luck took him in the right direction. The older man glared down at the far smaller jockey with disapproval.
"Why aint you at the stables helping Highwind?"
"Er, hello. I was just heading there now." Cloud smiled sheepishly.
"Really? Then I'll join you," Barret said, giving the blond a nudge and walking him toward the stables. A feeling that could only be named dread mauled his insides. It plucked at his stomach and squeezed his lungs. It stirred his heart into a frenzied fright, the organ wrenching and writhing as if to escape the cage of his ribs. He swallowed repeatedly, trying to dampen the cotton that seemingly took residence in his throat and mouth.
"O-oh okay," Cloud licked his lips. "Awesome."
The journey to the stables was sluggish, as if someone with a Time materia cast Slow. The world tasted monochrome across a sandpaper tongue. Upon arriving at their destination, the spell faded and the blond inhaled sharply, trying to soothe himself with the familiar smell of soil, grass and feathers. Cid stood in the training pen, stroking Tiny Bronco's beak. The blue chocobo nipped at his gloved fingers playfully, as if plying for treats.
"Knock it off, drumstick." The trainer gently tugged at the reins he held in his other hand, reminding the bird of the bit in his beak. Tiny Bronco bowed his head and nuzzled his shoulder. "Heh. Good boy."
"Highwind! I found Spike," Barret bellowed, drawing Cid's attention. He looked over, cigarette hanging from the corner of his smile. "Champ here was just bein' slow."
"Cloudy-boy, you're just in time. Tiny is going to leave all the others in the dust after we're done prepping him. Hey, you ready to ride this weekend? He's most used to you out of our jockeys...Spike, you okay? You're looking a little, uh, paler than usual."
Cloud blinked and took a step toward Cid.
"I don't think I'm recovered enough to race yet," he said, surprised by how steady he managed to keep his words. "But I'll help Tiny Bronco be the best he can be for whoever ends up as his racer."
"Knew I could count on you!" Cid slapped Cloud on the back and guided him toward the mock race track. Behind them, Barret stood, watching. He tapped his prosthetic with single finger, the motion jittery, contemplative. Then it stilled and he moved closer to the track, arms falling to either side as he followed his employees.
.x.
"I'm thinkin' a three furlong timed run and some dash training would really help with his spurt. Allow him to really gain momentum where it counts, like in the final dash after conserving his energy. He's a drop-in style runner, so he doesn't need to be at the very front..."
Cid's energized speech faded into incomprehensible garble to Cloud's ears. The blond scarcely heard a thing the closer they came to the track. What was going on? Why was he shaking so hard? Why did neither of them notice how badly his hands trembled? No. It was nothing. Just his body recovering from the accident. He was fine. Perfect even! Absolutely nothing in this world bothered him!
The pair stopped walking.
"Okay Spike, mount up and we'll get this practice going."
Cloud nodded and reached for Tiny Bronco, but he stilled, "Headwear."
"Huh?"
"I should wear some protective gear just in case."
Cid scratched his head, "Tiny Bronco aint gonna buck you. You've never fallen off a chocobo during practice, except that one time you worked with that ill tempered filly your first year."
Cloud tapped his temple, "I don't want to go rattling things up top just yet."
"Hmph. You aint a delicate little miss, Spike." He blew a ring of smoke. "But whatever. I'll go find you a practice cap."
"Thanks, Captain."
Leaving Tiny Bronco to Cloud's watch, Cid wandered into the stables. It was an old but sturdy structure, kept together with duct tape, sweat and Barret's voracious threats of demolition. It housed about eight chocobo at any given time—which made it the smallest competitive stable in the Continental League. There was talk of expansion since Cloud's impressive career brought in enough money to properly fix up the place and provide for another half-dozen chocobos. The blond wondered if those casual chats would become a reality after that championship win at the Gold Saucer. After all, that series of races brought in over almost a million gil. Not much compare to what ShinRa raked in each season, but certainly an impressive sum for a small stable looking to participate in more circuits.
"Here we are! Cap'n'goggles."
Cloud let out a surprised huff when a hard lump smacked into his chest. He wrapped his hands around the bundle, eyeing Cid through narrowed eyes. If there was one thing to be said about Cid Highwind, he wasn't a weak man. He packed a punch worthy of an enhanced.
Looking down at the leather cap and tinted goggles, Cloud felt his gut wrench again. That niggling nausea welling up until he tasted sour bitterness in his mouth. Shakily, he pulled the headgear on and once more reached for Tiny Bronco. The chocobo chirped and nibbled at the grass impatiently.
"What's the hold up?"
Cloud realized his hands were hovering inches above the blue feathers of the mount. All he had to do was get a proper grip and swing himself up onto his back. Something he did hundreds, if not thousands, of times in the past. He'd ridden chocobos since he was a little kid. Of course, they were old, docile birds used to transport goods between Nibelhiem to nearby towns. But to someone as little as he'd been, they were impressive beasts that made him feel as if he were on top of Mt. Nibel each time he scrambled on their backs.
"Spike...?"
The world started to blur out. He didn't realize it until then, but tears were collecting in his eyes and he was holding his breath. He sucked in a ragged gasp of air, but it didn't seem to soothe the dizziness suffocating him. Cloud staggered back. Tiny Bronco peered at him with wide, trusting eyes. He choked.
"I...I...I can't." His words were something caught between a gasp and a whine.
"What? It's just a chocobo. What's the hell is going on in that head of yours?"
He shook his head, unable to formulate the exact words. Memories of the accident, suppressed and hazy since he awoke, were flickering back in jagged clarity. He could hear the roar of the crowd, feel the shift in Fenris' weight. Screams. Neon. The smell of sweat, dirt and feathers. He recalled the way his bones strained and cracked, the heavy crush of his mouth collapsing on top of him. His head smashing against the track.
Tifa's cry of worry.
Dr. Gainsborough's diagnosis.
Sephiroth's words upon visiting the hospital.
'Fenris might be euthanized because of me.'
He couldn't do it. He might hurt Tiny Bronco. Or another chocobo. Next time they may slip on the Space Bridge and slice up their legs. He could be the reason they died...he could die. He almost died. A slightly different fall. No amount of mako could cure a severed spinal chord. Could not cure paralysis from nerve damage.
Cloud took two more steps away from the chocobo.
A shadow fell over him.
It was Barret's hulking form.
"You look like shit," he muttered. "Go rest."
The blond nodded, yanking off the cap and goggles. Cid stared, gathering up Tiny Bronco's reigns as Cloud retreated. A few seconds later, Cloud was running. His legs felt like jelly in a blender, but he kept going. He needed to clear his head. Sleep. Yeah, sleep would be a good idea. He was just tired, his body stressed from burning and being re-dosed with mako. It was just a bad reaction to the chemical—it always made him sick and edgy.
As he reached the porch, he saw Marlene wandering toward the side of the house, lugging a giant watering can behind her, leaving the door wide open. Cloud would have scolded her for not shutting the door, but he didn't have a voice. All he could do was slink inside and seek refuge in his bedroom.
.x.
"So you're still alive, Strife."
Cloud jerked up, letting out a grunt of pain when he smashed his head against the bottom of the motorcycle he was repairing. Blue eyes went wide and he shuffled into a crouch, startled to see Sephiroth of all people. He never came to Barret's stable. Ever! Much less waltzed up into main house's garage.
"People are starting to think that accident actually killed you," he drawled, striding lazily toward Cloud. "It has been three months and the golden boy that won the biggest race of his life...has yet to be seen again."
"Why are you here?" That mako-colored gaze seemed to bore holes right through the blond's skull. As if he was trying to pin him with laser vision. "Look, I'm not up to any stupid wagers right now. I'm busy."
He sprawled onto his back and busied his hands with a random tool laying on the cement beside his head. Cloud was certain that if he ignored his rival that he would get bored and leave. What fun was toying with someone if they dismissed your presence?
"Hn. Pathetic."
'Just ignore him. He just wants to rile you.'
Heavy footsteps closed the distance between them. Black boots entered his peripheral vision. Cloud frowned and tried to focus on the bike. He was almost done...
WHAM!
Cloud let out a yelp and jolted onto his feet, gaping at Sephiroth with disbelief. The older man had just kicked his tool box. Kicked it. Right across the garage into the far wall. Now the red container was a distorted mess of dented metal and it contents were scattered all over the floor. And his rival had the gall to have that impassive look on his face like nothing just happened.
"Fucking psychotic asshole!" The blond bit his lip, not intending to actually say that aloud. As much as they bickered, Cloud tried to keep his temper in check and not scream profanities like Barret and Cid. His mama raised him better than that. But the shock of what Sephiroth just did stripped him of his filter and left him floundering to find reasoning. He grit his teeth. "How dare you..."
Sephiroth smirked.
Lord asshat just wanted his attention.
"Just get out. If you're only purpose in coming here was to insult me and break my stuff all because I haven't raced in a little while..."
"Fenris."
Cloud shut his mouth.
The older jockey tucked back a long strand of silver hair and turned around, putting his back to the blond. Cloud followed. Since arriving home, he tried to push thoughts of Fenris from his mind. He knew that the chocobo was in ShinRa's care—he highly suspected this was Sephiroth's way of honoring his debts since Cloud didn't accept the offer he tried to force on him. But he never heard any reports on his condition. No one would talk to him. And after a while, he just stopped calling.
It did not take long to round the house and arrive at the stables.
"Hey! Spiky, long time no see."
Leaning against the fence of the training area was none other than Zack Fair, Sephiroth's fellow ShinRa sponsored jockey. He was a little over two years Cloud's senior and they had a friendly rapport ever since the blond won against Sephiroth the first time. At least once or twice a year he would drop by and they'd have lunch; Zack would take that time to yammer on about how small town guys needed to stick together. Cloud let it slip when they first met that he was from Nibelheim, and after teasing him for how backwater that sounded, Zack declared he was from Gongaga. A tiny reactor town in the middle of a jungle.
He would not call them friends, exactly, but the dark-haired man's visits were a welcome occurrence. Cid liked to tease him whenever he came back from their lunches, saying that he looked like he just had a date with a pretty girl. Cloud would raise a fuss, but there was no point in fighting. Cid meant no harm, and Zack had a girl back in Midgar he wouldn't shut up about. They were just...Zack and Cloud.
"Who are you calling Spiky?" Cloud teased in return. "You look like you stuck a fork in a light socket!"
Zack clutched his chest and sagged against the fence, "My heart, you wound me! Seph, did you hear what he just said?"
Sephiroth crossed his arms, "I disagree Strife. I believe that style is achieved through poking a fork into a toaster rather than a light socket."
Both wild-haired men stared at the senior jockey. Zack recovered first and laughed.
"Alright, alright, I see now that I can't win with the two of you teamed up like that," he said through a grin. "Been a while since I had a laugh like that. Gotta get you and Seph together more."
"Eh?"
"I fail to see the humor. I was not joking."
Zack waved Sephiroth off nonchalantly and strolled up to Cloud, looping an arm around his neck, "I admit, I was confused when you didn't get back to racing a couple months ago, but then it hit me. Fenris! I bet you were all worried about him and didn't want to race until you knew how he was doing. And ShinRa is just soooo stuffy and secretive and blah, blah, blah. So! I decided to come here with the news. Sephy here tagged along to verbally abuse me..."
He cast a painfully overacted look of hurt at his senior before turning both he and Cloud toward the stables.
"Hey Captain! You can come out now."
From the stable, a broadly smiling Cid emerged, Fenris trailing behind him, free of injury, his stride strong. When he spotted Cloud, the chocobo let out a trill and flapped his useless wings.
"Look who's here and happy to see you, Spike."
Cloud blinked and slipped free from Zack, stumbling over the fence and to Fenris with a pounding heart. He had not ridden a chocobo since the accident. The excuses eventually ran dry and he simply avoided the stables, telling Barret he wasn't ready to get back to riding yet. He never told anyone about the nightmares that left him gasping, or the unsettling panic that gripped him at unexpected moments. He couldn't voice to anyone the crushing paranoia and guilt that consumed him in his weaker moments, when the moon was high and there was nothing to busy his thoughts. Only Marlene noticed the footprints in her flowerbeds from Cloud slipping out of his bedroom window at night, to sit on the hill and stare at the stars until the dawn bled over the horizon.
Now, the chocobo he almost crippled in his folly, was healthy and excitedly nibbling at his hair and clothes. There was no ounce of distrust in those big eyes. He bet he could climb on his back right now and Fenris would fearlessly heed his orders.
Yet that very thought snapped something delicate within him.
Everyone here was watching him with expectation. This was his career. He rode chocobo's for a living. It was expected that he get back up after every fall and try again. They watched him grow from shaky, reckless rookie to a championship winner. Even Fenris looked at him with interest, brimming with energy Cloud recognized as a want to run.
Zack clapped a hand on his shoulder, having hopped the fence himself, "See, all patched up! It was all real sudden and hush-hush, but Seph wanted to make sure Fenris here received the best care possible. Said that he deserved it after winning that race. Go on. Give a proper hello. Doc says he's all ready to race."
Cloud dropped his chin to his chest.
"...Spike?"
How could Fenris look at him like that? With such trust? He did not deserve it.
"I can't."
"Huh?" Zack blinked. Cid's cigarette fell from the corner of his mouth.
Cloud pulled Zack's hand from his shoulder, "I can't."
"I don't understand."
"I...I don't think I will ever race again."
"Preposterous!"
Everyone looked toward Sephiroth, who was marching toward them with a dark fury radiating around him. He shoved Zack aside when he tried to step between him and his target, and then backed Cloud against Fenris. The chocobo made a noise of protest at its favorite person was spooked by the much taller man. Cloud opened his mouth to tell him to back off, but Sephiroth grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him onto his toes.
"You are going to race again."
Cloud grit his teeth and wrenched free, "What makes you think you have a say? It was your stupid wager that caused all of this!"
He had the grace to actually flinch at the blond's accusation.
"What does he mean by that?" Cid piped in.
Zack shook his head, "I don't know..."
Sephiroth returned to his usual mask of disinterest, "The blame doesn't rest on me. You had a choice."
"Speaking of choices, I'm making another one. Right here and now. I'm giving up racing. I'm never going to ride a chocobo again."
tbc
A/N: (Part two of four posted~ Thank you for reading! Please review, even little things such as 'I like' or 'I dislike' are important to me. Update will come next week. Until then!)