Author's Note: Huge apologies in the delay. I was hoping to get this chapter up before things got too busy at work. (As I work full-time retail, "college season" essentially means that my place of employment owns my soul.) For your patience, I will be posting the last two chapters AND the epilogue within the week! Huzzah, and enjoy!

Chapter Twelve:
A Last Resort

"And if you drown, you won't even make a sound."

He watched the sunrise with anticipation as it crept past the sill of the window, the gold gnawing at the last remnants of the night still lingering in his room. He was ready. Soon he'd hear the scientist and Cloud enter the bunker. Hart would leave his bags in his office, and then they would come to see him –

"Like clockwork," Reno murmured, a smirk touching his lips as he heard the door to the bunker open. He was already fighting his still-sleepy limbs into yesterday's jeans as the footsteps passed by. Hastily he pulled on the t-shirt he'd laid out in the middle of the night. It was black, and the outline of Meteor stood out in pale green and white, with the words "NEVER FORGET" in bold caps; the ShinRa logo hung faded in the middle of his shoulder blades on the other side. The buzzer rang as he forced his feet into a pair of socks.

"Reno?" came the professor's voice. The redhead stuffed his foot into a black tennis shoe, then eyes searched the room dumbly for a moment.

"Yeah, I know…just a sec, let me find my other shoe," Reno said.

"No rush – just tell us when you're ready," Hart replied, and Reno swore he heard Cloud muttering something impatient and impolite in the background just before Hart cut the speaker off. He finally found the shoe, almost out of reach under the headboard of his king-size bed; Reno retrieved it after a moment's struggle. He half hopped on one foot, stuffing the other into his shoe as he crossed to the chair.

"Okay, you're good," he called as he hurriedly snapped the restraints closed, making sure the locks were secured on all but one of his wrists. The door opened quietly just as he finished with his wrist, and he tossed the key to Hart, who immediately crossed to secure the redhead's remaining arm. Fluorescent eyes lingered on the door as the steel-faced Turk filed in behind them; eyes were traced with darkened circles, and stress lines creased his rigid pretense.

"S-sir…" The word was quiet, not whispered, not spoken as it escaped over lips. Smoky eyes met his, and Tseng forced a meek smile over his lips. Jade eyes averted, unsure of how to respond to the gesture. Ears lingered on the weak, almost impatient, almost sympathetic exhale as the director breathed.

"It's good to see you, Reno," he offered, and he was sure the phrase was more apologetic than the unyielding Turk had meant.

"…You, too." Reno's eyes flickered back to the director, before settling instead on his feet; he wanted to apologize, to spill his guts and beg for forgiveness. But now seemed inappropriate, with the timid scientist fumbling with his restraints, and the blonde ex-SOLDIER looking on intolerantly.

"How are you?" Hart asked, shattering the tense silence as he locked the restraint, checking the others to ensure the Turk was secure. Reno knew the professor didn't see Cloud roll his eyes behind his back as he shifted his weight impatiently.

"Ready," Reno sighed, chuckling a little. When Hart looked at him questioningly, he figured it was the lack of sleep that'd made it funny to him. "You know I can never be too ready for treatment day," he added; Hart smiled weakly.

'Too bad the treatments will never work…' The tone was belittling, the words abrasive as they echoed against the walls of his mind. 'Your mind will never be yours again.' Reno frowned.

"Alright, then," Hart said, pretending not to notice the change in the redhead's expression as he prepared an exposed arm for the injection. "I'm going to sedate you now. Is that –?"

"It's fine," the Turk retorted flatly. "Just – just do it. Let's get this over with…" his voice trailed, and Hart gave a timid nod as he readied the syringe. The needle pricked the skin, and Reno watch as the stopper slid closer to his exposed arm, forcing the drug deeper into his veins. Then suddenly his arm, the syringe, the professor…the room around him began to lose focus, began to whirl and blur and he was a dizzy child on a merry-go-round and he let his eyes flutter closed. And in the dark he could faintly hear the whistling of the first birds to greet the new day, briefly feel the warmth of the dawn against the lingering chill.

*~*~*0*~*~*

Dark eyes lingered over the petrified forest, the grayed bark of dead trees and seashell-shaped buildings before flickering to his mirror. The sharp gaze of the redhead grazed his eyes, and he quickly averted them back to the landscape. Typically, Reno was kept sedated until they reached the water – partially for everyone's safety, but also so that the redhead was unaware of the director's ongoing involvement – since he had made it more than clear he disapproved of Tseng's help. But Elena had been insistent that the ex-Turk could handle the forty-five minute flight awake; Hart hadn't disagreed, and Tseng couldn't help but reiterate the scientist's words in his head: he needed his friends.

Though he knew friendship would do nothing to cure the demon that plagued his mind.

Runners tore through the layer of sleet and snow in the clearing, and the engines quieted as he shut them off. Even still, fading drone of the blades resonated against his mind in a pounding headache as he removed the headset. Behind him, the scientist had already gotten a syringe of sedative, and though Elena eyed him with dissatisfaction, she made no protest. Fluorescent eyes pointedly avoided prying gazes, instead absently focusing on his fingers as they picked at some loose leather on the armrest. Fingers tested the syringe once, twice, before finally discarding it and switching to another; an olive gaze flickered to the distracted redhead, fingernails digging and scratching at flecks of black, and Hart hesitated.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly, and the ex-SOLDIER rolled his eyes and shifted impatiently.

"Just do it," the redhead replied quickly, and a hazel eye glimpsed the director. Tseng swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, obsidian eyes lingering over fluorescent jade. Reno barely flinched as the needle sank beneath fair skin, and his gaze flickered down as the scientist hesitated briefly. Lids became heavy, fluttering closed as his eyes tried to focus on the blurred ceiling. But they sank closed, and Hart eyed the director.

"I, er, think that should suffice," he stated, though the words dripped with an uncertainty that clung to each syllable and lingered over his expression.

"We just have to get him to the pond," Tseng replied, despite the professor's wariness. "He'll be fine."

'He won't be fine…' the director reminded himself cynically. 'He'll never be fine…' Tseng tore himself away from the harsh thought, shoving the helicopter door open. It creaked and ricocheted on the hinges, slamming closed behind him quickly. Cloud stepped down, boots crunching sleet-coated snow, and he hoisted the sedated redhead in muscular arms. Hart climbed down behind him, and offered the blonde Turk a hand; cobalt eyes averted, intentionally evaded the scientist's as she stepped down beside him, neither rejecting his assistance nor accepting it. Wordlessly, she walked past him, and the jaded professor fell in precession behind her.

Crystal waters shimmered with flecks of golden light as the sun peered over the forest; nearly still, like a sheet of ice or glass – like a mirror sprawled across the sandy white clearing. Serene…tranquil…mysteriously beautiful. And yet, despite the frigid winter temperatures, the unmoving surface remained thawed, only a paper-thin layer of ice coating it like a sheet of wax paper. The ex-SOLDIER hardly hesitated, and icy water sloshed around his ankles as he broke the still surface. When it reached his waist he stopped, and almost instantly the mirror melted back around him, settling and stilling even as the redhead sank into the surface.

*~*~*0*~*~*

He could feel the icy water as it swallowed him, chilled, calm, rippling like blown glass as the surface reformed around him. Like making snow-angels in too-deep snow. Goosebumps crawled over pale skin, his body shivering despite the sedatives, but the world was distant, muted. Crisp air swept into his lungs, and soft pressure balanced his face above water. Gentle hands…slightly coarse, but delicate all the same. The tinkle of barely shifting water tickled his ears like wind chimes…white noise, static…syllables.

"You're stronger now." Her voice came in soft, melodious notes; musical, like swift fingers over a piano. She giggled, the ginger sound lingering over his mind as he tried to force himself awake. "It's okay. You should rest for now." He could feel the sedatives wearing off, blood pumping faster, eyelids trembling and eyes beginning to force themselves open; ears pricking, more aware now of the whispered voices around him, barely muffled by icy water. But sleep… It sounded so inviting, so pleasant…

"Maybe…for a little while…" He muttered to himself, though he wasn't sure if the thought escaped into frostbitten air. He could hear each breath as it filled his lungs, drawing in the scent; crisp winter air, the fragrance of fresh powdered snow scattered across the bank like white sand and mingled among branches long-since frozen. As they lingered there, the stillness settled so that even his body felt as though it was part of the winter; and then warmth escaped through flared nostrils, a quiet hiss like a leaking steam valve.

As the next breath seeped into his body, a scent tickled his nose, and he felt his face contort slightly; it was salty and sweet – like seawater mixed with honeysuckles. The water around him grew warmer, lighter, and for a moment, he felt as though he was floating…weightless. Eyes hung closed lazily, any strength or will to open them settling beneath to the back of his consciousness; like a warm bath after a stressful day. He wanted to ask her where he was, what she was showing him, but his voice was perfectly content staying trapped in his throat.

"The Lifestream…" she answered knowingly; instead of the muted sound of water, ears pricked as he tried to make out voices, whispers among static. The words were there, he could feel them, but they were lost with his will to move, to beg for answers. "You're strong enough now," she repeated. He took another breath, savoring the warm, sweet smell that swallowed his senses; muscles relaxed, his mind faded.

Reno started as he woke, water breaking around him in frigid waves in protest. Whirling, he studied them; steel-faced the director watched him, warily watching like an uncertain mother. Quickly, the blonde Turk tucked a tuft of silken gold behind her ear, fingers still tracing the threads. The ex-SOLDIER moved away from him, and the redhead was quite certain his fingers lingered over the hilt of his sword. But his eyes locked, and Hart shrank away reflexively.

"Th-the Lifestream…" he said, shivering in the icy water; an olive eye stared dumbly and the scientist blinked as he realized that the subject was supposed to have some sort of meaning. He stammered briefly, trying to repeat the word, but he couldn't make the syllables form, and instead sputtered incoherently. "Why…w-why would she sh-show me that…?"

"…Aerith?" Hart inferred, and the redhead nodded distractedly suddenly aware of how violently he was trembling; Tseng seemed to shift uncomfortably beside him, clearing his throat quietly. "Why don't we, er…head back?" Fluorescent eyes shifted towards him, daunted at the uninterested suggestion.

"Sh-she's trying to tell me s-something…" Reno trailed; water sloshed around him as the blonde waded towards the bank, but he didn't move, didn't speak as he tried to decipher the dream.

"We can sit down and discuss it in Hart's office," Tseng said, smothering the impatience that lingered over his words. It was a hidden message, or at least, Reno sensed it was, and he sighed heavily as he waded back to shore.

*~*~*0*~*~*

Reno sighed as he slouched against the chilled wall, pricked ears listening intently to the silence next door. Since he'd explained the vision, skeptical eyes had betrayed their optimism, and he was left waiting while they discussed the "best option." He sighed to himself; he knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping. But…why would the Ancient have shown him that if it wasn't a golden ticket? Especially him – a lowly Turk who once tried to capture her for ShinRa's exploits. Eyes cut to the one-way window, trying to peer through the closed shades. He could make out the vague outline of a starch-white coat in the desk chair, the crisp blue suit of the director pacing by the desk, and the aloof blonde leaning against the wall.

"We'll need to test it first – to make sure it doesn't cause a negative reaction," Tseng deduced finally. Despite being the skeptical scientist, Hart made a sound of disapproval. "You disagree?" Obsidian eyes cut to the professor, and he shook his head.

"I'm just afraid caution may take too much time," he answered.

"You'd rather go in blindly?" the director protested.

"Well, n-no, but…" Hart sighed, "…when he first dreamed about the – er, about Aerith, she led us to the pond. Despite, er…the…mishaps…it's been the closest thing to helping him as we've been able to get."

"Cloud?" the steel-faced Turk prompted, and the blonde shook his head.

"Not my decision." The answer was blunt, and Reno chuckled to himself.

"Do you think Sephiroth could be tricking him?" Tseng clarified sternly. The redhead's brows furrowed; Tseng would think that. But it hadn't been a trick – he could feel it.

"…He said he heard her voice." Cloud pursed his lips, looking thoughtful for a moment; a tense pause settled over them, and Reno waited anxiously to hear his answer. Suddenly, a clatter rose outside the door as the gates opened, and he could scarcely make out the blonde's answer. Cursing, he listened as the second set of gates opened and closed – but focused ears couldn't make out the director's response. A quiet knock reached his ears, and eyes darted hastily to the door.

"Come in," he replied annoyed. The door opened hesitantly at his response, though he didn't need to look to see who entered. Golden tresses framed cerulean eyes, and she offered a weak smile; he faintly returned the gesture, letting his attention shift back to the conversation.

"M-Mako is a refined form of Lifestream," Hart explained timidly. "Er, that is…the liquid form of the Lifestream. It's, er, much more concentrated, and prolonged exposure can lead to mutation, poisoning…even with natural Mako springs. The Lifestream is, er…more of a…spiritual lifeline, so to speak. More of spirit energy, like –"

"It's too risky."

"You shouldn't be eavesdropping," Elena said, leaning against the wall beside him. His eyes darted up at her, and she giggled at his sarcastic expression.

"…Tseng, we have to give it a shot," Hart offered. "There aren't any other options right now."

"There are other options," he protested. "We just need to test it first. We can't afford for things to get any worse."

"Hart's right, Tseng," Cloud interrupted finally. "Waiting could be more costly than just giving it a try. You didn't try the water first, but it did more than we expected."

"Reno said that Sephiroth has been more active lately," Hart agreed. "Later could be too late."

"It's almost the anniversary…" the blonde mused. A dark chuckle resonated inwardly, and suddenly, Reno's blood turned to ice. He'd never considered the possibility… "You really don't think Sephiroth will try something?"

What if it was a ruse?

"…Meteorfall…" The word was faint and whispered unlike the sharp memories that pried at his mind.

"…W-what?" Elena asked uncertainly, and she studied vivid eyes as they met hers.

What if he was just waiting it out – waiting for his opportune moment?

"Very perceptive." Suddenly, sun-soaked locks smeared across his vision like watercolors as the room swam in static and darkness. A distant sound reached his ears but he couldn't answer, felt himself falling…tumbling…

Like liquid malachite, the river's reflection danced across the walls around him, though some how the ambience seemed darker still. A bitter smell, like stagnant, soured water, thick with dirt and algae and moss hung in the air and swallowed his senses. The cavern breathed cool air across him, but he was neither chilled nor warm; he was vacant. An empty husk, somewhere between life…and death. Silver hair brushed his cheek, the gentle tickle only a faint indication that he was real.

Absently, his gaze lifted, passed the dank cavern walls, the maze of caves and paths. He could see the white trimming, the glittering indigo sky. And Meteor, still distant, no more than an ornament perched among the stars. It burned away the lazy plum clouds and ate away at the midnight backdrop. Soon…soon…

"Nothing…nothing can stop me now…"

*~*~*0*~*~*

"It's too risky." The answer was curt and stubborn, and Hart sputtered to a stop. A wide peridot beseeched the director, but stern features told he wouldn't be swayed.

"…Tseng, we have to give it a shot," Hart offered, sounding more defeated than persuasive. "There aren't any other options right now."

"There are other options," he protested. "We just need to test it first. We can't afford for things to get any worse."

"Hart's right, Tseng," Cloud interrupted finally. "Waiting could be more costly than just giving it a try. We didn't try the water first, but it…did more than we expected."

"Reno said that Sephiroth has been more active lately," Hart agreed. "Later could be too late."

"…It's almost the anniversary…" Cloud mused quietly, chuckling darkly. "You really don't think Sephiroth will try something?"

"He'd be safer in the bunker." Tseng watched them both, eyes betraying his stern features. Finally, the scientist sighed.

"I…I, er…didn't want to say anything…but…I've been able to isolate the segments of his DNA." The director fell silent, indicating for Hart to continue. "I've been trying for a month now to find some way to alter it…but…every time I attempt anything it results in a genetic meltdown."

"What do you mean?"

"…He means it would destroy him," Cloud answered bluntly, giving the clarification the director didn't need.

"At this rate…it could be years before I find a way to diffuse the DNA – and months before I can even begin to alter it." Eyes fell to the floor, and Tseng breathed a soundless sigh. Silence settled over the winter-chilled office, trembling with the drone of the heating unit overhead.

Suddenly, the ex-SOLDIER whirled, sharp eyes darting to the mirrored glass. Quickly, he bounded for the lab door, leaving the professor and director stammering in his wake. Hasty footsteps followed him into the hallway.

"Override the gates!" he demanded quickly.

"Cloud, what's –"

"Reno!" he managed, the one-word answer satisfying the director as he entered a six digit code into the keypad. The gates sprang open, and the blonde darted into the room, Tseng close onto his heels. Breath caught in his throat as he took in the scene: near the one-way window, the redhead was sprawled lifeless in Elena's arms, limbs twitching occasionally, but unconscious.

"What happened?!" Tseng questioned, nearly pushing the ex-SOLDIER aside as he rushed over.

"I-I don't know," Elena half-said, half-sobbed. "He-he just…he just collapsed." Fingers eagerly pressed into the redhead's neck, the director desperately searching for a pulse; his heart was racing.

"He's unconscious," Tseng said. "His heart rate is abnormally fast, too." Dark eyes turned to the blonde. "What was he doing – just before – ?" The Turk cut himself short, unable to form the rest of the sentence.

"He…he was trying to hear what you were saying," she answered obediently, voice trembling with shock. "He said…he mentioned Meteorfall, and then…he just collapsed suddenly." Cloud's eyes glanced sharply back at the scientist as he stumbled into the apartment; vivid blue gleamed beneath the ambient light, alive with the same phosphorescent glow he'd seen in his sister's cool slate eyes.

"I think…we're out of options, Tseng," Hart said, not murmuring, not stuttering or stifling the tremble in his voice. The words were quiet but precise and keen, like the glint over a hazel eye. Obsidian eyes darted back to the sandy-haired scientist, pleading for some explanation. "If…if this is what I think it is…"

"Sephiroth…?" Cloud half-asked, half-stated, and the professor nodded, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his snow-white lab coat.

"It's occurred to me that, er…that maybe Sephiroth has merely been…entertaining the notion that the, er…'treatments' have been helping. Conserving his energy, so to speak."

"You didn't think to mention this sooner?!" Elena demanded, sniffling loudly.

"Th-there were…no indications that made me suspect anything," he answered quickly. He hung his head shamefully, tracing the scuffs on russet boots. "It occurred to me after his second visit to the Forgotten City, but…there was no evidence that, er…made me consider it seriously."

"What's going to happen?" the director asked pointedly; a wide eye met his, like a spooked deer. The scientist studied the Turk for a moment, before letting his gaze drift to the slumbering redhead.

"I…I don't know," he managed, the answer choked and vague. "I don't know exactly what's happening between Sephiroth and Reno, but…it's likely that they are both battling for dominance – maybe even a permanent dominance."

"…So, when he comes around…he could be Reno or he could be Sephiroth." Hart's gaze flickered to the blonde, and away again, nodding timidly.

"We can only hope that the dream he had was your friend reaching through," he offered quietly. Tseng scrutinized the professor, gaze hidden beneath his bangs and weight shifting uncomfortably, before letting his gaze sink back to the once Turk. Pearls of sweat beaded over fair skin, eyebrows furrowed, and eye lids quivered as though he might wake any moment; his whole body seemed to tremble and spasm, and lips seemed to move soundlessly, as though words were trying to form.

"…We don't have a choice," Tseng decided finally, and it seemed as though the room itself breathed a sigh of relief with his decision. "Elena; get the chopper ready. We'll be right behind you."

"R-right." Rubbing a sleeve across her eyes, she turned curtly and raced through the open gates and down the hallway. The ex-SOLDIER knelt beside the once-Turk, and bright cerulean lingered over restless features.

"Should we sedate him?" Cloud asked, gaze flickering uncertainly to the director; the Turk glanced over his shoulder at the timid professor, sputtering as he realized that he'd redirected the question.

"I, er, d-don't…th-there's…no telling what it might do," Hart answered weakly. "W-we could wind up making it worse." Tseng nodded wordlessly, letting his eyes drift back to Reno. Briefly his mind trailed, distantly wondering what the redhead was experiencing, if he could best the great General Sephiroth; whether his own prudence would cost Reno everything…

"…I just hope we're not too late…" he muttered, trembling fingers clenching, knuckles whitening to still them as the blonde hoisted the fidgeting redhead from the floor.

"At the bottom you'll find out that it's quiet when you drown."

Quotes from Make A Sound, by Autopilot Off