Author's Note: Again, apologies for the delay. Broken record, I know. Enjoy the update! Shit's gonna get REAL!
Chapter Five:
Reality, Shattered
"Can't you see that you're smothering me, holding too tightly,
afraid to lose control?"
Footsteps alerted her to the impending arrival of another person, and she straightened, eyes fixed on the door in anticipation. Professor Hart stopped abruptly in the doorway, and seemed to half-tip-toe in to the office when he saw her watching. He gave a meek smile before averting his gaze. Minutes passed before either of them spoke.
"Derik…" she started, unable to stand the silence between them anymore; it was taut like violin strings. "I'm sorry…I just…I didn't know…" He pretended not to hear her. "Derik…can we at least talk about this?" Striking hazel met her gaze, and she could make out the pink fringes on his eye.
"Elena, it's fine," he sighed.
"It's not 'fine,'" the Turk countered sharply. "It's anything but 'fine!' She was your sister, Derik, and – and they – and – "
"And she's gone, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it," Hart snapped, and golden-green reflected the dim glow of the fluorescent desk lamp like glass. "And no offense, but the last thing I really want to do is talk about it!" Elena bit back her lip, and heat gnawed at the corners of her eyes. Silence settled like the heavy layer of dust that clung to every surface of the office; finally, he sighed. "Elena, look…it's nothing personal," he said softly. "But I just – I don't want to talk about it. I can't. So let's just pretend we didn't find that file and go back to trying to help your friend. Okay?" The Turk gave a timid nod in response, and he looked away, turning his attention back to the stack of files.
"Is that how you knew?" Elena queried finally after a long pause. He looked up, clearly holding back the urge to throw a thick stack of folders at the Turk. "About what Hojo had done to Reno?" she clarified. He turned away from her again.
"Yeah." She tucked a blonde lock behind her ear, and wished he would talk. But the only sound that echoed in the room was the shuffling of files.
"…Tseng will want to look at her file…" she uttered quietly after a few minutes. He paused, but didn't look up. She touched his shoulder. "I'll make sure you get it back." A glassy peridot gazed up at her. "And I'll ask them not to mention it to anyone."
"Thanks, Elena," he replied, voice like the whisper of a summer breeze through tree leaves. She smiled, squeezing his shoulder before returning to her own pile of folders.
*~*~*0*~*~*
Naturally, nothing had changed about the inside of the reactor; not that there was anything natural about it. They climbed the narrow ladder down, and a wide-set beam acted as a path to the inside room. It was lit like a darkroom – dim and red, so that even the brightest eyes barely had color. Capsules still lined the sides of the stairs, but they had long since been emptied of any contents. Pipelines trailed over the ceiling and to the wall, above the sealed door. Above it, a metal plate read "Jenova."
"Between you and me, this reactor has always been unsettling," Tseng muttered quietly, and Reno hummed in agreement. Reno scanned the room; metal caught the light and brows furrowed as the made out the shape.
"…is that…?" he walked towards it, the long slender weapon propped in the corner on the far side of the room.
"Reno," Tseng called warningly. "I said don't touch –"
"Sir…" he interrupted, bending to examine the nodachi further. "You'll want to see this." Cautiously, he approached the redhead's side. Eyes studied the weapon and Tseng shook his head.
"But…I don't understand…how would…how would it have gotten here?" Tseng asked aloud and Reno shook his head.
Metal gleamed against the pure white light of Holy, and eyes lingered on the metallic silver. It glittered; flawless, beautiful…lids sank closed, long silvery strands catching the breeze like loose threads. He smirked. They thought they had beaten him… But he knew, still…the puppet knew better, would know he was still alive. He just had to wait…stay still, barely breathe…just long enough…
"AVALANCHE toasted him at the Northern Cave, right?" Reno asked rhetorically, pushing the memory from his mind as he turned back to the director. "But…that would've been…nine years ago…"
Onyx eyes locked with his, jade green even in the eerie lighting. Suddenly, white flashed over his vision and Reno winced.
'The time…is now… Mother…'
"S-sir…I…think I'm…" He could hear the sound, metal hissing as it snagged flesh, blade not hesitating as it cut through. But the pain struck him, stomach lurching from the sudden agony and he felt knees buckle. A youthful voice spoke to him, words muffled beneath a shrill ring that pierced through his mind. He felt hands on his shoulders, and he opened his eyes.
Vision blurred, but he could still make out the worried face of the director. Lines mapped the uncertainty and smoky eyes glimmered in his gaze. Reno blinked, trying to clear the fog from his vision; colors shifted, and he gazed into bright blue. His lips moved, but no sound escaped them, and he tried to focus on the words. He felt weak as the room spun, and strong arms kept him from hitting the floor.
"…B-by the likes…of you…" The youthful blonde stood, lifting the heavy weapon from the stairs beside him and raising it to a readied position. "By the likes of you…!" A strained scream escaped the youth's lips, but it was muted against the high pitched screech that filled his head. Eyes focused and the blonde leapt, slinging the weapon downward. Metal screeched as a slender blade blocked him and power surged as they collided. Fierce eyes shined with fear and he was suspended for a moment; but brows furrowed with futile determination. The Masamune cut sideways, unlocking the swords. He yelped as he hit the platform, rolling weakly onto his side. He turned to the grunt, approaching for bloodshed.
"By the likes of you human beings…" Dazed, the blonde tried to prop himself up on a shaky wrist. "You really thought you could defeat me?!" Wide-eyed, the youth choked on his breath as the blade impaled his chest. Teeth clenching, he lifted the weak body; he slumped against the blade over the gleaming pool of Mako below. "Don't—test—me!"
Wake up!
Suddenly, pain cut through him, and hot metal pierced his flesh. Knees buckled once more and he placed a hand over the side of his abdomen. Sticky red warmth leaked from the wound and spilled on to the floor. He heard footsteps from across the room. They came closer, his heart beating slower and in sync with the calm thuds.
"I told you," the voice said, soft and calm, from behind, "you're not going anywhere." Reno heard the gun cock again, and his vision blurred with tears. He closed his eyes; he knew what was about to happen.
The bang was muted in Reno's ears, though he knew it was loud and powerful. He didn't try to resist it, and collapsed beneath his own weight. The floor was cold against his stomach and his body felt even colder. Weakly, he opened his eyes and saw black boots in front of him. He tried to move – to speak, but he couldn't; breathing was a struggle in itself. Musty air hung heavily in his chest, thick with the bitter scent of metal. He felt a warm tear slip from his eye and roll across the bridge of his nose. It sounded distant when it plopped into the growing puddle under him. His eyes felt weak, and his muscles limp. Everything blurred and began to get lighter, until the dark lab around him faded.
Wake up!
Ears pricked, the blaring sound of mechanical tones interrupting his thoughts. Reno stirred quietly, eyes blurring as he forced them open. The room was dim, only lit by the florescent lights from the hallway. The heart monitor pinged steadily, and he shifted against the stiff mattress. Reno hesitated; eyes gazed down lazily, and he pulled his arm up from the railing. Chain links rattled quietly, the metallic sound muted by the heart monitor, but cold metal pressed against his skin. His head lulled to the other side weakly, and the light caught on a matching restraint.
Dull thuds reached his ears as they entered the room, and the door closed quietly. The director sighed, sitting in the chair across the room. Onyx eyes checked his watch before he glanced over to the redhead. Startled, he did a double take, realizing dazed eyes studied him.
"Reno, how are you feeling?" he asked quietly. Reno blinked dumbly, the question somehow losing any coherence between the director and his ears. "…Reno…?" He shifted uncomfortably, and the director walked to his side. He limped slightly, and…why was he bandaged? Dark eyes watched him for a moment, but flickered up to the monitor. "…Your fever hasn't broken yet," he said looking down.
"…Fever…?" he repeated and Tseng nodded.
"How are you feeling?" he asked again, and Reno shrugged.
"…Tired…" he mumbled.
"Sedatives will do that," he said, attempting humor.
"I was…sedated?" he asked curiously, his mind becoming somewhat clearer. A fog of drowsiness hung heavily over him, but words were starting to form sentences.
"Reno…do you remember what happened? In the Reactor?" Tseng queried, changing the subject.
"The…Reactor…?" he repeated. Brows furrowed as he dug into his mind. "N-no…I…I was sent to…collapse the plate on Sector 7…AVALANCHE kicked my ass, though…" Tseng closed his eyes with frustration, but sighed.
"…I see…" he said, defeated. "Get some rest, Reno. We'll talk more in the morning." Reno nodded, his mind already starting to drift back to slumber. Vaguely, he saw the director slip out into the bright hallway, closing the door behind him.
Tseng sighed, rubbing his forehead. Uneven footsteps echoed against the corridor, mixing with a chorus of nurses' heels. The elevator pinged as a thumb pressed the button, and opened obediently. Absently, the director stepped inside and tapped the button for the top floor. The floor lurched slightly, gliding upward. He studied his smudged reflection against the metal doors and sighed as he leaned against the wall, wincing sorely.
When it stopped, Tseng stepped out and wasted no time as he crossed the empty atrium. Normally warm and inviting, the midnight sky hung overhead, casting a dark and almost ominous shade over the open room. He glanced up to the stars for a moment, studying them distantly for a moment. Heavily, he sighed, the weighty breath falling over his lips with exhaustion. Making it to the bridge, Tseng left the atrium behind, following the narrow hallway to its end. Wordlessly, he pressed the buzzer and awaited a response.
"Yes?" Rufus replied over the speaker.
"Tseng," he said, and the door opened. Sapphires looked up to him expectantly, but he shook his head. "The wounds are almost completely healed but his fever is still high."
"Was he awake?" the president asked.
"Yes, but still sedated," he replied, sitting. He winced painfully, hissing as he shifted again.
"You should be resting," the blonde stated coldly, and onyx eyes met his. They locked a moment, and Rufus shook his head. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened." He said finally. "We'll get to the bottom of this…"
"…I don't know what happened," Tseng replied quietly. "I don't…I don't know what came over him…"
"Reno," I called warningly. "I said don't touch –"
"Sir…" he interrupted, bending down. Eyes scanned over something, but I couldn't see it from where I stood. "You'll want to see this." Cautiously, I approached the redhead's side. Eyes studied the weapon and I shook my head.
"But…I don't understand…how would…how would it have gotten here?" I asked aloud and Reno shook his head.
"AVALANCHE toasted him at the Northern Cave, right?" Reno asked, turning back to me. "But…that would've been…nine years ago…"
Onyx eyes locked with his, jade green even in the eerie lighting. Pupils narrowed, catlike slits against a pool of Mako. I had seen those eyes before, a long time ago…
"S-sir…I…think I'm…" He placed a hand over his head, and suddenly convulsed. I caught him, and glazed eyes looked up to me. The pupils flickered like nothing I'd ever seen before, almost as if they, too, were seizing. Suddenly, they rolled backward, and his body stopped moving; fear settled over me, and I worried that death had taken him.
They opened once more, and a venomous gaze pierced me. A smirk slid over pale lips, and the expression was unnatural over the redhead's features. His body moved quickly, standing as fingers wrapped around the hilt of the slender weapon. He readied it, assuming his stance. Slowly I backed away.
"Reno…" I said, voice almost a whisper. He chuckled lightly and charged. I dodged the first assault, steam erupting from a valve as the sword cut clean through it. Sparks flew as it cut into the nearest experiment capsule and I stepped back. "Reno!" I called, louder the second time as I tried to break through whatever trance had possessed him. I danced around him, dodging the slender blade as it lashed with expert timing. Metal flashed in the darkness, and I couldn't move in time; cold steel hissed as it cut through flesh, and he pulled it away. Crimson stained the pale metal and I instinctively grabbed my side. The weapon lashed again, an agonized cry escaping my lips as it sank into my shoulder.
"Don't make me, Reno," I pleaded quietly, unholstering my gun as I dodged the next slash. A wicked grin tugged at his lips and eyes flashed. He charged, and I didn't hesitate. Light flashed in the dim room and the gunshot resonated against the metal hull. Clenched knuckles trembled slightly and eyes sank down to the wound. Navy turned dark with crimson, and his venomous gaze returned to mine. Unfazed, he readied his sword, and the length cut through the air. Too late, I tried to dodge, metal cutting the length of a leg. Stumbling, I fired once more and hot metal pierced his shoulder warningly. He hesitated, but charged a final time. I could see it in his eyes; a murderous intent gleamed deep beneath the surface, Mako pools swimming with hate and rage.
With one uncanny movement, he slammed me, pinning me against the wall. Pearl metal was cold against my neck, and I winced as it slowly broke the skin. Our gazes met, a cold and deadly stare tugging a fatal string in my memory. A final shot blared through the reactor, and his expression changed as the bullet pierced him. Eyes gazed back up to me, fingers releasing the weapon. It clattered, metal clanging on metal, and he fell to his knees. A bloodied hand clutched the final wound, life leaking from his abdomen as he collapsed. Eyes found mine, and they were different; catlike pupils had dilated, and they lost focus somewhere between his eyes and mine. Breath shuddered as he lost consciousness, lids sinking over half-glazed eyes.
The pair fell silent as Tseng concluded his tale, and Rufus shut off the recorder. A clock ticked absently on the wall, and the raven-haired director allowed his mind to focus on the empty sound as seconds passed by. The president stared at his desk, surely retelling the story once more inside his head.
"Where is it now?" he asked, and the director blinked. "The Masamune?"
"I believe it is in the evidence room, waiting for evaluation," he replied.
"Have them bring it here when they've finished – I'd like to look over it." Tseng raised an eyebrow curiously at the still-youthful president and the blonde shook his head. "The Gold Saucer used to give out replicas as a prize. I want to make sure it is the real deal and not a fake."
"How can you tell?"
"I have a replica myself, believe it or not." The director nodded quietly, acknowledging he would see to it that the weapon found its way to him.
"Does…does anyone else know?" Tseng queried hesitantly.
"…Not yet…" the president sighed. "I know they'll have questions and want answers we don't have…I wanted to get things straight before I told them." The director nodded, thankful the president had been discreet; after all, he'd been wounded, but he could still fly the helicopter. Wincing, Tseng stood, pacing to the window. "Don't overdo it," he said, warningly.
"I'll be fine, sir," the director assured. Rufus looked as though he wanted to protest – make Tseng go back to his hospital bed, but he hushed himself. The streets below Neo-ShinRa were still, streetlamps lining them like a series of runways, but they were otherwise empty. Few businesses remained occupied at this time of the evening, most having retired to their homes or local bars in Edge.
"…I've seen that gaze before…" Tseng finally said, voice soft and hesitant. Onyx eyes didn't meet sapphires; instead, they found the sky outside the window, watching as stars winked against an indigo backdrop. "Nine years ago…" Eyes closed, and breath shuddered in the still air. "I was in the Temple of the Ancients. …He came from nowhere… Sephiroth…"
"…Sephiroth?" the president repeated.
"Those eyes…it was the same…the same expression, the same deadly gaze…" he shook his head, willing the memory of that day away. "Exactly."
"You think it has something to do with Sephiroth?" Rufus asked, and the director shook his head.
"I don't know…" he admitted. Rufus nodded quietly, no words left to express his feelings toward the matter. If Tseng was as worried as he put on, Rufus knew the situation was bad. "I hate to say it…but Reno's running out of time…" Tseng finally said. Dark eyes struck him, fierce and concerned. "If we can't figure out what's going on…we may be too late." The room sank beneath the weighty silence, the pair still attempting to wrap their minds over the severity of the developments. The director's mind trailed; just this morning, he'd been joking with the redhead about…about something, though now he couldn't seem to recall what.
Suddenly, the buzzer jolted them from their separate trains of thought, Tseng wincing glaringly as he stumbled; the president lurched from his seat, leg slamming the underside of the desk. Rufus cursed quietly beneath his breath, groping his knee painfully.
"Name and business," he requested, mind more focused on soothing the knee than who might be at his door at such a late time in the evening. The director staggered, hissing as weight landed over his right leg. He allowed himself to sink back into the chair across from the president's desk, eyes focused on the speaker by Rufus' coffee cup.
"It's me," Elena offered. "Found some more files that might be helpful." Before she could finish explaining, the door gave a loud click, announcing its approval of her request for entry. She took a deep breath, cobalt eyes reading the label of the file on top. It read "C-SH." Quietly she pushed the door open, and it closed behind her with its usual quiet click as it locked. Tseng was leaning back in one of the plush chairs in front of the president's desk, and he looked over his shoulder; a smile greeted her warmly, but his wary expression told something else entirely. The blonde Turk hesitated a moment, letting the question settle to the back of her mind.
"Glad to see you're finding information," Tseng said, and she smiled meekly. "What have you got?" Elena hesitated, looking from the director to the president and back. She wanted to ask him to leave; the fewer people who she had to tell about the new professor's past, the better. But he was the director.
"I, er, Derik and I found – " she started, but Tseng interrupted.
"Who's Derik?" he queried. A fleeting smile touched the president's lips, but he quickly hid it as he suddenly found the mountain of paperwork on his desk very interesting.
"Er, Professor Hart," Elena explained, tucking a blonde lock behind her ear. She felt her face grow warm as the director's knowing eyes watched over her.
"I see," he nodded, onyx eyes glimmering. "You were saying you and your boyfriend found something?" he added when she continued to stare, red-faced and dumbstruck. She blinked.
"He's not my boyfriend!" she countered, face flushing more. Rufus looked up from his paperwork, clearly trying to hide his amusement.
"What did you find, Elena?" the president prompted, and she silently thanked him.
"Right. We found some files about other experiments involving Mako and Jenova infusions," she said; grave expressions met, the humor suddenly dark and nervous. The blonde hesitated, grateful to have their attentions, but wondering cautiously what caused the stern shift. "Most of them are pretty dated, but we thought they might be helpful. And…um, there's one I need to talk to you about…" They looked at her expectantly, and awkwardly she extended the file to Rufus. The president opened the file, scanning it for several minutes before glancing up at the blonde knowingly.
"I'll make sure this remains confidential," he assured, closing the file and setting it aside from the other stack before going back to his paperwork. Elena was glad that he didn't offer the file to Tseng, but knew that the director would pick it up a moment before he did.
"What is it?" he asked, opening the file curiously. For a split second, Elena considered taking the file from him, but knew perfectly well that it wasn't her place.
"Hart?" Tseng exclaimed, eyes not leaving the page. When neither of the two responded, he tore his eyes away, and deep obsidian met the Turk's sapphire eyes. Finally, Elena sighed.
"She was his sister," she surrendered, eyes studying the carpet.
"What else did he tell you about this?" the director asked. Rufus studied him intently.
"Nothing," Elena replied.
"Elena, what did he tell you?" he interrogated again, voice rising; Tseng stood, ignoring the protest that screamed from his limbs. "If he told you anything that's not in this file, I need to know!" The Turk cowered, and Rufus rose abruptly from his seat.
"Tseng!" he snapped warningly, and the director suddenly realized he had been shouting. He sighed.
"Apologies," Tseng offered curtly, nodding at the president before turning back to the other Turk. "Elena, are you sure he didn't tell you anything else? Anything at all?" She shook her head timidly.
"The only thing he told me was that she was his sister. That's it." Tseng was quiet a moment.
"I'm going to go talk to him – " he said, crossing to the door; his eye twitched reflexively as he placed weight on his leg, but the Turk persevered. Elena charged ahead of him, standing between him as she blocked the exit.
"No!" she demanded, and the director blinked, taken aback by the brazen display. "Tseng…I don't think he knew that she…what happened to her after he escaped." She sighed. "Just leave him alone, okay? I've read the file, and anything we need to know about his sister that might help us figure out what happened to Reno is in there. Making him relive this…just leave him alone, okay?"
"Elena, move," he demanded, seemingly unfazed by her compassionate plea. She held her ground, studying the stern Turk. She could make out dried stains over his usually crisp uniform, and the jacket appeared torn in places. "Elena!" Brows furrowed, and she shook her head.
"Rufus – " she pleaded, peering over the director's shoulder at the president, who was watching the scene with interest. Tseng turned, obviously awaiting a verdict. Their gazes met, sharing an unknown communication; eyes didn't leave each other as he answered.
"Tseng and I will discuss the contents of the file," he declared. "Elena, I'm assuming the professor would like this file back whenever we are able to release it?"
"Yes, sir," she breathed. Rufus smiled weakly, nodding.
"I'll see that he gets it, and I'll make a copy to keep on file here," he assured.
"Thank you, sir," she offered, smiling weakly. Her eyes met coal-black for a moment, and she didn't watch him long enough to discern the emotion glaring back at her as she turned to leave. Over her own heavy heels, she could make out the sound of uneven footsteps and rustling fabric as Tseng assumedly skulked back to his chair. But something was off; furniture hit the floor and she jumped at the abrupt sound, whirling.
The director had crumpled to the floor, taking the oversized chair down with him, and navy fabric began to darken. Rufus cursed, sliding off his starch-white jacket. Threads hissed as he ripped a sleeve away, wadding it as he pressed it over his shoulder. Finally, she could see it; deep vermillion soaked into the bleached fabric, and azure eyes watched, horrified. Finally she blinked herself free of her trance, and raced to his side.
"What happened?" she asked, placing a hand to find the director's pulse. It was slow, but strong, and she helped place pressure over the wound. The young president didn't answer, bloodied fingers tearing away another shred of his coat and he swapped them quickly.
"Call the medical wing – have them bring a stretcher," Rufus said over his shoulder, ignoring her question. She pulled her phone from her pocket obediently, and hastily dialed the emergency line. Words faintly reached his ears, but cobalt eyes focused on the fabric as the fluid dyed it a sickly shade of claret. It seemed to slow, and breath caught in his throat as Rufus hoped that the pressure was helping.
"They're on their way," Elena informed him as she stuffed the phone in her pocket. "Here, let me." Delicate hands tore another piece of fabric from the jacket, and she placed it over the wound as Rufus ducked out. Drops ran over his finger tips, catching in the ambience of the office like polished garnets. Finally, the president sighed.
"I told him he was going to overdo it," he said.
"Everything that you thought I would be has fallen apart
right in front of you."
Quotes: Numb, by Linkin Park