My last day of class has finally passed. I don't go back till January 27th. You know what that means~
Ah dude…I always ended writing more chapters than I intend…hope you all don't mind.
I.
"What is all of this?" Cid cleared the sand paper from his throat, and read the packet label. He blankly stared; wary of opening it.
"It's what's happened to you." Vincent answered. Stoic red eyes motioned to the experimental documentation Cid had grasped in his hands. "I found it in a lower laboratory of the ShinRa manor," he reached into his cloak "along with this." A slightly cracked vile filled with a pearlescent blue liquid was held between Vincent's clawed fingers.
Cid thickly swallowed. "Have you ah…have you looked in this, Vince?" The Captain was still debating on whether or not he actually wanted to browse through it. Seeing 'Hojo' along the side of the packet's credential section didn't make him feel any better. He never imagined he'd be a victim of something like this.
Vincent nodded. "This," the bright liquid in the vile swirled as he placed it away in a pocket "was made to turn a man into a weapon when he sleeps."
A weapon…Cid's stomach sank. He cleared his throat again to prepare a reply, but stopped when the door to the recovery room finally swung open. All thoughts of the horrible procedure he was about to read slipped from his mind and he tossed the packet aside. "You goons look pretty fucked up!" He greeted most of his friends as they filed in; relief on their faces.
"I think you hold first place in that category. Good to see you're okay, though." Cloud sank down in a chair and crossed his legs. He had circles under his eyes, but he wasn't the only one.
"I'm the champ, huh? What all happened last night?" Cid tried adjusting the tube connected to his arm. He could hardly move without it stinging.
"Well, you, um, turned?" Tifa wondered if that was the proper word for it. She dodged telling Cid how they came to discover him. "We split into teams, and the trap worked after Vincent surprised us and came to help."
"Ya brawled with Vince for a long while, too. Was a pretty nasty fight. Ya both tore up the woods!" Barret looked around the room for a socket to hook Cait Sith's charging cord up to. He clicked his tongue as if even remembering was harsh.
"Reeve asked Vincent to come here." Everyone assumed he had been eavesdropping using Cait. "We were going to feed you after you were captured, but then you woke up." Cloud ended the rough account; moving his legs out of the way, and up into his chair when Yuffie flung herself over the foot of the bed. "I think Shera gave you some sugar water, though. It was enough to get you here before…you know."
"Shit…" Cid allowed all of it to sink in. His eyes rolled down to Shera still asleep at his side while everything processed. His poor Shera. Cid didn't blame her for still being knocked out. He knew she had been tired. And now she was hurt? He inwardly questioned her bandages again." I ain't…kill anything this time, did I?"
"Not this time." Nanaki spoke for the first time since the rest of AVALANCHE walked in. He had been hidden, and tucked away behind the other side of the bed. He widely yawned; shaking drowsiness from his back and shoulders. "Should I tell him?"
"Tell me what?!" Confusion crossed Cid's features. No one would meet his eyes on it.
II.
"Hey Capn', I didn't know you were part German shepherd!"
"Shut the fuck up."
III.
"Well, Yuffie wasn't…wrong." Shera groggily removed her glasses to better read all the papers, photos, and documentation spread out on Cid's hospital bed. Her brows bowed in concentration. There were numerous slots for snapshots of different service dogs; most crossed out with red marker and only a few circled. "ShinRa service dog one hundred eighty two."
Shera tapped a tattered photo with her finger. She worked for the company, and had no recollection of a K9 unit. Or maybe she did, and couldn't muster the energy to recall. She had been sleeping for hours before Cid noisily opening food containers had woken her up. Her eyes adjusted to the bright lamp light from the side of his temporary bed, and she shifted to lie heavily against his side. Shera didn't have the liveliness to say too much, but by being more than willing to cling (the first thing she gave him upon waking up was tight, bandage agitating hug), told Cid that he was dearly cared for (and that she had probably worried herself into a micro coma).
"I remember when they kept hound dogs." Cid's voice was muffled by chewing. "They got rid of em' a long time ago. ShinRa said they were going to replace them with somethin' better, but then they never did. I used to hear rumors that they froze a buncha' dogs somewhere for safe keeping. Fuckin' creepy." His food was disgusting, but he scarfed it down because he was starving, literally.
"Hojo must have used Mako, the highest performing dog, and Nanaki to make whatever he's used to tamper with you." Shera frowned and placed the photo collection down on her legs. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into the warm pocket where Cid's chest met his arm. Focusing was starting to make her head hurt.
The Captain's mouth was pressed in a hard line for a while. He placed his food aside, and attempted to change the subject. "Hey, uh, Shera?"
"Hm?" She cracked one eyed open and picked paper clips from the woven yarn of the top bed sheet. Shera dug around the manila folder and sluggishly began to pack everything away. Apparently, AVALANCHE had already had the chance to review everything while she snoozed. Most of them had taken off to get some well-deserved rest.
"You alright?" Cid realized his question was vague.
"I'm tired, but I'm fine." She distractedly squinted at a document she hadn't noticed before. It was a ripped sheet of composition paper filled to the outer edges with tiny, cursive handwriting. Shera placed her glasses back on the bruised bridge of her nose. Paper in one hand, the other massaged her temple. She had a stuffy sensation in her head, and she felt a little overheated. Shera couldn't tell if it was Cid's constant furnace, or herself.
"I mean, I saw yer bandages."
"…liquid splice administered to subject via injection…enhancement through chemically activated transformation." Her hazel eyes skimmed from one line to the other. "Commissioned super SOLDIER project authorized by the president." She didn't think it was current. It looked old.
"Hey, I know you heard me." Shera jumped a bit when Cid took a hold of her wrist. He pulled the paper away and placed it down on her legs with all of the K9 photos. "Shera…" Cid's voice lowered. His blue eyes were steady in meeting hers. "Did I hurt you?"
"Captain, I told you I'm fine." She tried to assure him with a smile; not really answering the question. Shera placed her hand over the stiff taping under her shirt. She sat up when she saw Cid's expression warp in distress.
"How bad…tell me how bad."
"It's just a bite. It'll heal. I promise I'm fine, Cid. Cid…" Shera protested against the hot hands that found her waist. Cid pulled up the end of her shirt, moving his IV out of the way so he could see beneath her bandages. He slowly pulled the tape away. Wide, bright red punctures along her side were worse than the ones Yuffie had on her legs. He a mind to think that one or two of her ribs were fractured. They would probably leave scars. Cid was nauseous.
No. No. No. No. Shit. Fucking hell. NO. HE HURT HER.
Cid didn't say a thing. The room was uncomfortably silent, and Shera fidgeted under the horribly wounded look on her partner's face. "I'm. O. Kay." She firmly repeated; placing her hand on, and stroking the side of Cid's neck. "I know you didn't mean it. You were hungry, and—"
Cid snapped in an instant. He was stricken with horror. "What the fuck do you mean hungry?!" She was implying that he almost made a meal out of the love of his life. He wanted to vomit.
Shera cringed and briefly averted her eyes. Perhaps she shouldn't have said that. Her other hand found Cid's neck when she felt him pulling away. "I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay…" Bringing him close; she stood up on her knees and whispered. "You didn't mean it. I'm okay. Cid, I promise." The tensed line of his forehead brushed hers and she held him; granting a few comforting pecks on his lips. "I promise I'm okay." Shera could hear moisture at the back of his sinuses; feel dampness in his eye lashes. "We'll have you moved somewhere by tonight. You won't have to worry. I'm just happy that you're still here."
"And what if the next time I turn into this monster, and wake up, you ain't here?! Huh? It'll be all my fuckin' fault!"
"None of this is your fault. You know it isn't." Shera ran her fingers through the hair along the back of his neck. "Cid—" She cut off what she was going to say, and turned her head toward the door. Someone had knocked once, then twice.
"Come in." Shera sat. Sighing, she reorganized the photos that had fallen when she stood up on her knees.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Reeve was a face neither of them had seen in ages. He noted his toy cat powered down and charging up on a table, and greeted both the Captain and his Mate with a brisk smile. "Long time no see, Captain Highwind, Ms. Joules."
IV.
Cid scowled at the hand that was offered to him (he didn't shake it). In general, the Captain was skeptical of his own doctor. The facility that Reeve offered to move him to was a doctor's office on all sorts of illegal steroids, well, because it wasn't an office at all. It was a poorly lit testing facility with all kinds of questionable equipment. His new doctor wasn't just a doctor either; they were a former ShinRa ''''health care'''' personnel. And Cid wasn't just irritated with the current situation as a whole. They told him that he one: couldn't smoke, and two: all he could wear were his boxers.
Fucking. Awful.
After taking some of his blood, urine, and asking particularly intrusive questions, they had Cid perch himself up on a metal bench facing a full wall of triple layered, glassed windows. The bench, for the record, was cold as shit. They wouldn't let Shera in the room that they had directed him in either; for whatever reason. All he could do was gaze through the glass from a distance. He caught Shera's eyes every now and again. She sat in a small seating section on the other side alone with Reeve. She placed herself in charge of the experiment file. It was heavily guarded in her lap.
V.
"Are you sure we can trust these people?" Shera didn't recognize too many of the researchers that were preparing things for tonight. Reeve had explained on the way to the underground facility that they were going to conduct some sort of unorthodox sleep study.
"Mostly." Reeve affirmed and folded his hands to the cuffs of the traditional robe he was wearing. "They agreed to help as long as they had the chance to record the results. Hojo had three victims. Did you know that?"
Shera's brows furrowed and she shook her head. "No, I had no idea. Are they here, too?"
"Yes, but, unfortunately they're deceased. Both were men around Cid's height, weight, and age." He gravely rubbed the hair of his chin before speaking again. "Valentine is lurking around here somewhere. I think the sound of Hojo's name torments him. He says you're quite the good luck charm, though. Is that true?"
"I…" Shera removed her glasses to clean them with the cloth of her shirt "All I gave Cid was some water. I figured it wouldn't hurt to dump a sack or two of sugar in it."
A small smile crinkled the edges of Reeve's eyes. "You care for him quite a bit, don't you?"
Shera let out a low, dry laugh. She placed her glasses back on the bridge of her nose and turned her head to gaze back through the glass before them. Oh, Cid…he was arguing with the physician. "I guess you could say that."
He nodded his head. "I see. Cid's in good hands. I've authorized them to take some of his fluids. We'd like to pin point what hormone, or chemical specifically activates his transformations. If we know that, we can at least formulate some sort of counter treatment. We're a little worried the injection's effects are irreversible." Reeve slowly stood from his seat. "We'll let him turn tonight. It's probably best that we collect as much information on it as we can. You never know."
"And what do you mean by collect?" Shera raised her knees and folded her legs on the hard couch she was seated on.
"Mainly x-rays. Height. Weight. Temperature. Reflexes. The basics. I considered an MRI, but I doubt there's one big enough for him. They're already going to have to split a full body x-ray into multiple parts."
"That much…?" Shera nibbled her knuckle in nervousness.
"If they want to record something besides that, they'll have to have my permission." Reeve unfolded his arms and acknowledged a participant who was trying to motion him over. "They're going to begin soon. Here." He took a cracked vile from his pocket and handed it to her. "You already have the physical file. Hold on to this for me, too."
"Oh…" Shera took it; turning it in her hands a time or two. She dug around the cushions for the bag she had brought with her, and tucked it away in an inner pocket. "Thank you, Reeve."
VI.
Lately, falling asleep unintentionally seemed to be the root of quite a few of Shera's problems. Her eyes fluttered open after registering a light tap to her shoulder. At first, she panicked. She didn't remember where she was.
"It will happen soon." Vincent took a short step back; folding his arms.
"Sorry I fell asleep." Shera mumbled. She rubbed saliva from her chin, sat up, and watched Vincent stalk off to watch through the facility glass in a corner. He didn't say a word, but Shera could see that he deeply troubled.
"It's fine."
Yawning, Shera tucked the file away in her bag and looped it over her shoulder. She came to stand beside Vincent at the oversized row of windows. Her eyes followed his line of sight to Cid laid down on the floor; the bench he was on previously pushed off to a corner.
There were long moments of empty silence, flickering lights, and wheezing air vents before 'it' happened. Vincent was fixed in place, but Shera had to turn her head. The sight of Cid convulsing in subconscious agony tore her heart in two. She bit the edge of her lip; only hearing the muffled reverberation of his torment turn deep and inhuman.
"I hate this." Vincent murmured.
"I hate it more."