Disclaimer: I make no money from this work. Anything recognizable to the Final Fantasy VII series and its associated parts belongs to Square Enix and affiliated companies.

Green Dreams

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Turning Gears

The crash that caused the building to shudder rang into dead silence. Maxwell's newly formed seven-man team paused in the hallway, wondering what the explosion had been. Something that big could probably kill. How far were people going in this exam?

"Come on," Maxwell said after several moments. The explosion had shaken him and his team. "This should be the tenth floor."

Their group had discovered early on that SOLDIER intended to make this as difficult as possible for them. Black spray paint had been used liberally to cover the numbers of what floor was which in both the staircases and by the elevators.

"Here we go," he said as he rounded a corner and spotted a wall panel denoting the room as the main security room.

Stojan and the rest of the group trotted up behind him. "Guess we just fiddle with the wires, huh?"

"Yeah, can't be too hard."

They pushed open the door and discovered the room to be chaos. Monitors had been thrown across the room, slashed so deep the wall was gashed. The keyboards had been dented, removed, and spray-painted on with more of the black spray paint. There were wires sticking out of panels under the desks, and the leg of a rolling chair was sticking out of one of the consoles.

Stojan was speechless as Maxwell whirled around on him. "How the fuck are we supposed to use this?"

"I didn't know!"

Stojan took a step back as Maxwell advanced. "You better had some good shit to work with because if people are blowing up each other we need everything we've got and more!"

Stojan started shouting back, blaming Maxwell for losing Riley in a standoff with another team and being a bad leader, but his words fell short when Maxwell shot him in the stomach with a paintball from bare inches away.

"You're dead."

"You bastard!" Stojan lunged, but Maxwell kicked him in the chest and sent him skidding into the hallway. He shot him one more time in the head with a paintball, knocking him out cold.

"What the hell are you doing, man?!" Mark looked pissed and the rest of Maxwell's team looked a little uneasy.

"I'm the leader. He screwed us over so he's out." Maxwell took a step closer. "You gonna say something?" Mark looked like he wanted to, but after he stared at Maxwell's determined, angry face, he backed down. "Hmph. Anyone got any ideas now?"

One of the guys on Maxwell's original team stepped forward. "There's a guy in my platoon here. He's real big on tech stuff. I'm sure he's got a mini video monitor or something with him. Just in case."

Maxwell smirked. "Then let's go get him."

Down in the basement, gathered on a pile of boxes with a couple candles and a camp light, Team 10 sat playing cards. They could only bet the cereal Aaron had thought to bring, but Reno's cards were the only real entertainment they had so they made the best of it. Everyone had been thrilled when Reno pulled out the pack after they'd successfully fixed the elevator situation. The one they dropped fell fifteen stories, but underestimated the impact. It had actually gone through the bottom of the elevator shaft and ended up crashing into the subbasement. That entire area was inaccessible with all the debris.

Cloud had shown his team the ventilation shafts he'd been planning to use, and through the maintenance shaft in the basement and the other opening along the elevator shaft, they could access almost any part of the building without beingin the open. It was ideal for guerilla tactics and ambushes. Ironically, Cloud had gotten the idea from a movie shown sometimes on the weekends at HQ. He realized that if Shinra's ventilation system was anything like this building's, then it was perfectly possible. After all, he'd gotten into a high-level conference room from a bathroom. It hadn't taken more than a little research to learn a bit about how ventilation systems worked to figure it out.

They'd been very successful for the first week, picking off one team and finding two stashes of ammo and food, but they were starting to run low on water. Everyone assumed by this point the rest of the supplies tucked around the building had been found, leavingthem the only option of stealing them from other teams.

Reno clambered out of the ventilation maintenance opening just as talk around the poker game turned to the water situation. "What'd you find?" John asked.

Reno ran most reconnaissance missions along with Dan. They actually made a fairly good team despite Reno snarky side comments. Both were light and good at manuvering around the air ducts.

"Is that Texas Hold 'Em?"Reno said instead. Dan climbed out next, covered in dust as usual.

"Yeah, but spill first. And don't look at my cards."

"I'm not even playing!"

"You'll whisper them to someone. You cheat like you're making big money off it."

"Don't be like that, John!" Aaron said, defending Reno.

As they continued to argue good-naturedly, Cloud looked at Dan who was brushing off his clothes. "What did you find?"

"Not good. Maxwell's team? They're like three teams combined. And they've got a hoard of food, water, a ton of spare guns, and plenty of ammunition."

Cloud sighed as he handed his cards to Reno to play for him. "Anything else?"

"Not much," Dan shrugged, futiely brushing off dust from the front of his uniform. "Someone flooded the bathroom on the eleventh floor. I don't get why we don't just take an empty jug and fill it from the tap."

Aaron opened his mouth but Reno beat him to it. "You want to know what goes in the water below the plate? Everything the Science Department cooks up and more. Trust me; you don't want to be drinking that."

Cloud cut off that conversation before it could start. "We need to strike Maxwell's team. If they're that big, then they're a threat. What level are they situated on?"

"The eighteenth. They patrol the sixteenth too."

"The seventeenth," Reno added in as he laid down a flush on the box they were using as a table, "Is actually left pretty much alone. They've usually got one or two guys by the stairs there to be back-up."

"How well fortified is their base?" Cloud asked.

"It's in the CEO's room. Maxwell stays there with the rest of the team not patrolling. It's about five people, give or take. They only leave one person there and one person outside the door when they do a raid or attack somebody."

Cloud's eyebrow shot up. "You've been watching them," he accused without any judgment in his voice. Reno hadn't mentioned that. The redhead functioned better on his own, so it wasn't uncommon for him to disappear into the ventilation ducts for awhile.

"So what. Point is, let's smash 'em."

"Yeah! I could go for a good fight," Aaron added in. John put down his cards and rolled his shoulders.

Dan sighed. "Can I get a drink before we go?" Everyone else ignored him though, packing up anything useful, checking ammunition and then trooping to the elevator shaft. Dan gulped two swallows of water before grabbing his gun and running after them.

Together Team 10 rode the elevator up to the sixteenth floor. Climbing out of the now permanently open roof hatch, Cloud and Dan watched as the other three scrambled up the girders until they came to the grated opening of the ventilation shafts on the fifteenth floor.

John pulled the grating away and dropped it on top of the elevator. "Reno, John, and Aaron. You guys cause the distraction. Take down as many as you can without showing yourselves. Dan and I will recover as much as we can from base," Cloud directed.

Reno, John, and Aaron clambered into the ventilation shaft as Cloud and Dan dropped back into the elevator and rode it up to the seventeenth floor. There they entered their own air duct, Dan first since he knew the way better, and crawled through until finally they were above the was eerily similar to what Cloud had done in the beginning of AVALANCHE.

The angle from the vent wasn't great, but Maxwell was sitting on the CEO's old desk, talking to two other members. One more person was sitting on the side, a ration bar sticking out of his mouth as he fiddled with his gun.

"What do you see?" Cloud whispered as quietly as possible from behind Dan. Only Dan could see through the grating, and he didn't dare crawl past it and turn around so Cloud could see too. Someone might hear the sound, and secrecy was their greatest weapon.

"Three guys and Maxwell. And loads of ammo."

"Wait until there's one left inside. If you can, shoot him from here. I'll go into the hallway and wait for that one."

"Stop shoving!" Someone hissed.

"I'm not!"

"I think I'm getting claustrophobic."

"If you're gonna throw up, do it on John."

"You don't vomit when you're claustrophobic," grumbled the soldier quietly.

Reno suddenly stopped crawling forward, becoming perfectly still. Taking the cue, John and Aaron froze too, all complaints about the cramped quarters forgotten. Voices drifted up to them through the thin metal of the ducts. "…Just heard it go by. It's like a ghost is riding it."

"Don't talk like that, man. It's just another team."

"But the doors are melted shut, who the hell does that? The one on the eighteenth floor is still warm. Isn't that weird?"

Reno started to snicker as he overheard the conversation. John rolled his eyes. "Just shoot them would you?"

"Fine, fine. Party pooper." As quietly and carefully as possible, Reno lifted the grates and lowered them softly onto the other side of the hole. Popping his head down quickly, he managed to see that both guys were sitting against the walls, guns across their laps, talking.

With John gripping his legs, Reno lowered his upper body into the hallway, enough to get them into his line of sight. He was a good enough shot he could hit them both, but he had to be quick. Only his abdominal muscles were holding him up now, and if he relaxed even a little the gun or his belt might hit the side of the hole, alerting his targets. He took aim, and fired two shots, the first hitting the guy in front in the back, the second hitting the guy next to him on the side of the head.

John pulled Reno back up, and the redhead easily shifted his body so he legs were in the hole before dropping down. John and Aaron followed quickly after.

"Nice shots," John said as he looked at the two downed cadets. One was still looking woozy from the headshot, but the other was recovered and angry. Once both boys' hands were tired together and one was gagged, Aaron and Reno went back into the ducts while John dragged the cadet to the stairs and carried him up them. Once there, he headed carefully to the hallway with the CEO's office, and dropped him just around the corner.

"Be good and scream," said John with a grin.

He kicked the guy swiftly in the shin hard enough to make him shout. Two guys immediately appeared in the hallway. Before they could get far, Aaron took one down with a close-range shot to the back, and the other a direct hit to the mid-chest by Cloud.

Once everyone was out of the ventilation shafts, they stormed the office. John took a grazing hit from one guy on the lower leg, and pretended to hop around for the cameras just in case they penalized him. Maxwell managed to slip into the adjoined room in the chaos and lock the door while they shot down the other man.

"Should we go after him?"

"I already checked that room. The vent shaft is blocked by boxes and a bookshelf. We can't get through there."

"I'll wait for him to leave," Dan put in.

Cloud shook his head. "Don't worry about him. We've still got a little more than a week left."

They packed up their haul and loaded it back through the vents outside the elevator into the cab. They rode it down to the basement where they had to jump down about a foot because the elevator was raised on the leftover debris from the crash.

"How many people are left now, you reckon?" Aaron asked.

"I'd say, with the five we took down today, about thirtyish?" John answered.

"Huh."

"Things last time slowed down after the first week. Seems everyone would rather a lot of people live than fail," John continued.

Reno sighed. "Guess that means we'll be playing a lot of poker. Does anyone know any other games?"

Rufus unabashedly grinned as he slipped the request form into the paper shredder. Sometimes just denying the Science Department something as simple as a new order of epidermal syringes made his whole day better.

His airy office was quite large, with a number of spacious windows, plants demurely scattered about, and it was only a couple doors down from his father's. With several plush leather couches, a fine mahogany desk, and a small collection of paperweights on bookshelves with unread books, it was, as far as Rufus was concerned, not enough. No, his father's office was more his style, with the six massive windows behind the desk, the four pillars by the entrance, and the helicopter pad just a couple steps away. That was what Rufus wanted, not this second-class office.

As the only son of the formidable CEO of Shinra, Rufus had grown up always getting what he wanted. It might have seemed like a spoiled childhood of decadence, but he had never seen it that way. It was the reward for hard work, for his father's achievements, and as his son, he would also reap the rewards. All lives worked the same, Rufus knew, his was just particularly wealthy.

But some things, as he had learned the hard way, were not meant for him to have until his father said so. As a teenager he'd fought it tooth and nail, but with age came refinement, but never acceptance. Rufus imagined his relationship with his father was something like a long, complicated, business transaction. Blood was hardly relative to how they worked together—or against each other. In the end, as far as Rufus was concerned, it wouldn't really matter. His grandfather's death had been rather sudden after all.

He smoothed down the front of his white suit, a habit to make sure he looked as wealthy and fine as he was. It wasn't vanity that had Rufus always dressing impeccably, at both the height of fashion and quality, it was expected of him. Glancing at the silver wristwatch embedded with six diamonds on his wrist, Rufus shuffled the paperwork together. He wanted to be out of here by noon if he expected to skip the executives meeting. He had absolutely no desire to be locked in a conference room with the old geezers, the General, and the absent chair of the Science Department's head.

Rufus shook his head, then ran his fingers through his hair to muss it up nicely. Stacking his papers in a neat pile, he pushed back his seat, and took a quick glance around the office to make sure nothing was out of place. He left then, offering a flirty smile to his secretary, as was , he didn't mean it, but at least he knew her name. More than many an executive could attest to. Plus, he thought he was significantly better off. Andrea was married with a daughter—no emotional tangles and having a child meant she was reliable…and easy to control.

He couldn't help the slight smirk that graced his features as he passed his father's door while walking to the glass elevator. His father was fat, lazy, and in utter denial that his company only belonged to him in name now. All of the elite knew President Shinra's power was becoming more limited with every paper he signed. Rufus was both embarrassed and pleased at the opportunity his father presented.

The glass elevator was waiting for him as he stepped inside. Soundlessly it began to move down, and he watched the floors fly by while casually examining the buttons of his suit and refolding the cuffs.

The control of the company, and subsequently the world, was in the hands of a variety of departments, who, through various agreements, sexual affiliations, or assassination threats, worked together on the most basic level. It was how Shinra was run now, but it hadn't always been that way. The department heads were indolent now; too accustomed to the influence they wielded to give the sordid history of how they'd gotten those positions any thought. Rufus intended to capitalize on that in time.

Slowing to a gentle stop, the bell rang and a pleasant female voice announced the first floor. Stepping out, Rufus strode quickly over to the front doors, ignoring the eyes of the peons as they watched. He met his car outside the front, slipping into the backseat of the black limo and shutting the door with a decisive click. If he bothered to look, he would see a Turk slipping out of the building and into the car behind him.

Rufus had ideas, plans, on how to reassert his control of the company. It was slow going though, considering how bloated the Science and Weapons departments were and how little Veld liked Rufus. Rufus hadn't yet touched Sephiroth, but considering the loyalty the General commanded that one would have be dealt with very carefully, hopefully with the backing of the Turks.

Rufus watched the skyscrapers, the people, and the other cars go by outside the window of his limo as he considered how to keep SOLDIER with Shinra, and how much would have to be gutted. He smoothed out his suit once again, before discreetly checking a mirror in one of his pockets. If this meeting went well, he might have the Turks in his pocket soon.

General Sephiroth stepped into the command room of the SOLDIER Exam as he had every morning for the past week, his posture upright and proud, eyes moving quickly across the men standing at attention before murmuring an "at ease".

The first week of the exam had been a fruitful one with nearly two-thirds of the boys already out. Those that were left would probably remain that way, as was the case in most exams. There would be skirmishes, and maybe a handful more would be taken out, but otherwise they'd bide the rest of the week rather than risk failing. They had enough supplies and a safe enough base to stay that way. These daily checks he made were just routine at this point, and to please his Lieutenant General who called it his, quote, "social dosage hour". Sephiroth did not find this particularly funny, but then, most jokes Zack made at his expense were only funny to Zack.

"Mornin' Seph." He saw said SOLDIER out of the corner of his eye pop open the outside door with his hip as he stepped in. Zack was juggling two mugs of coffee and an orange. Sephiroth caught the orange when Zack bounced it off his knee to him, grinning the whole while. "Figured you'd want something healthy. Anything new?"

One of the men on duty jumped to answer Zack's inquiry. "Lieutenant General, sir, we have the updates."

Sephiroth held the cold orange in his hand, glancing at Zack's two coffee mugs (one decaf for later, one expresso for now) as he pulled out a pocketknife to begin peeling it. He let Zack take the lead on the interaction here, so long as he heard all the news.

"Excellent," said Zack, "How's my Cloud doing?" He wandered closer to the monitors to get a good look as one of the men started to summarize the past twelve hours activity.

Sephiroth picked at the peel as he half-listened to the dialogue, thinking more about Strife and his strategy. He was both amused and slightly impressed by it, but it also bothered him. He'd left the first day of the exam wondering what the blond was planning to do from the basement. A quick glance over the blueprints of the building had been enough to tell him what Cloud was doing. Knocking out the elevators, permanently shutting the elevator doors (men picking up the "dead" had noted that), and attacking through air ventilation shafts of all things.

He peeled the skin of the orange deftly in a circular loop until it began to coil like a spring. The heady scent of citrus filled the room, but no one turned back to look at him. Zack commanded the attention of the soldiers as he enthusiastically commented on Cloud's latest recorded escapade, eliciting laughs all the while. Zack's natural charisma was in full swing today.

What bothered Sephiroth about Strife's plan was not the cleverness of it or the ingenuity, but rather how Strife had known the ventilation shafts' main entrance was in the basement in the first place. How had he known the shafts would be large enough for a man to fit in? He would have to ask him.

After watching the tape again in his office of Cloud at the elevators and Megarian shooting one out, it had occurred to Sephiroth that Strife couldn't know much about the ventilation shafts of any buildings in Midgar—even the ones in the cadet barracks were more modern and too small for anything for a young child to fit in. How many office building's blueprints must the blond have seen to know that the older models had larger vents for maintenance purposes? Shina Headquarters was built that way, but not even Sephiroth had access to those blueprints, and the HQ didn't have a basement but laboratories, which probably didn't even have blueprints.

Zack had not seemed to notice this inconsistency, being more concerned with Cloud's excellent showing in the exam. Sephiroth had not brought it up with him yet, waiting to see what else Strife might do.

Sephiroth split the now skinless orange in half. Oranges were not his favorite fruit, being rather messy (though give Zack a grapefruit and he could decimate a room), but he could appreciate the tangy taste of them, and certainly the health benefits.

Zack wandered back over from the screens and held out a hand for a slice, before sighing loudly and throwing his head back with his hands locked behind. "Well, Cloud's doing fine as usual. Has everything been cleared for the week after?"

Sephiroth glanced up at the monitors to give them a cursory look, before handing the last two pieces of his orange to Zack. "Yes. And the Turks have put in their requests."

Zack's eyes flicked to the screens too, watching as Reno's grey image handed a box of ammo up to waiting hands. They weren't Cloud's hands as far as he could tell. Cloud didn't wear a watch. "Anyone of interest?" Zack asked casually.

"Reno," Sephiroth dropped, cleaning out the orange pith from under his fingernails. His hands would smell of orange all day now. Another reason he didn't particularly like them.

"Huh, couldn't see that one coming," Zack remarked sarcastically. He didn't sound any different, but Sephiroth knew he was relieved. Losing Strife to the Turks would have been… inconvenient.

Aaron woke to some quiet shuffling around in the basement not to far from his head. He groggily opened his eyes, listening vaguely as someone unzipped something then shuffled around some more before finally stopping. Hoping it was just Reno going for a piss, Aaron shut his eyes and buried his face a little deeper into his sweatshirt-turned-pillow.

No such luck. "Hey, Aaron…?"

Someone's warm finger poked his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt. Frustrated as he woke up a little more, Aaron rolled on to his back and reluctantly opened his eyes.

Dan hovered next to him, looking insecure. Aaron couldn't help superimposing an image of a small five-year-old Dan when he'd had a nightmare from the look on his face. He blinked groggily and wiped at the crust in his eyes, but the face remained.

"What is it?" His voice came out scratchy and still half-asleep, but at least it was quiet. Dan's face was starting to worry him, with its unnatural crease along his forehead and downturned lips. He gave a quick glance around to the others, but everyone was still breathing evenly and there was no other noise.

"Can I ask you something?" Dan was crouched in the dark with a flickering lighter held in his hands. He looked younger despite the shadows, with his shoulders hunched as he rocked a little on his heels.

Aaron shook off the last bit of sleep. "Sure." He cracked his knee as he stood up, then padded a little ways further in the basement, away from the sleeping camp. It was hard to tell what they were standing around with only the meager light, but Aaron figured they were far enough away they wouldn't wake anyone. "Okay, tell me."

Dan glanced around first to stall for time, before sitting down in a desk chair, the lighter cradled in his lap. He looked rather nervous, so Aaron put a hand on his shoulder. "Look, you can tell me anything and I won't tell a soul, kay?"

"Yeah," Dan mumbled. "It's well… I'm not sure where I- where I… fit in anymore."

Confused, Aaron sat down on a pile of folders, if a little precariously, before putting his hands on his knees. "Fit in?"

"I, well… um, you know how you…" The words were jumbled and muttered, which made it difficult to hear. Aaron almost leant forward more, but he knew how intimidating and probing that could feel, so he refrained. "How you… don't. You're just… okay with it." He was flushed red even in the light, and it was clear how uncomfortable he was broaching this at all.

"Fit in…" Aaron rolled the words around his mouth, before his eyebrow shot up, and then he gave a short laugh before cutting it off abruptly, realizing everyone else was still sleeping. "You mean being gay?" When Dan stumbled out some kind of apology Aaron waved it off, still smiling. "It's no big deal to me. The only people who care are the ones who don't matter. Everyone wants to be accepted, I get that, but it's who accepts it that 's totally normal in SOLDIER and the army anyway, so I'm not worried."

Dan fidgeted but didn't say anything, and Aaron figured he already had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"You know, liking guys is totally cool. I mean, it shouldn't mean anything to anyone else. Your life and all."Aaron rubbed his knee, unsure if Dan wanted advice, comfort, or something else. He'd never really done this before since he'd always been the odd man out back home, and he certainly didn't want his first stint as a councilor to mess the guy up more.

Dan looked rather alarmed though, and Aaron thought he might have jumped too far. "I- I don't?" Dan murmured.

It ended up coming out like a question, and Aaron rubbed his knuckles along his knee as he thought about Dan's predicament. "Look, no matter which way you go—or both—no one but you should care." Aaron tilted his head at Dan, tapping the boy on the knee when he looked like he might fidget his way off the chair. "Trust me, I know how important it is for the people you love to accept you, but don't deny being yourself for them."

That leap of faith seemed to be the right thing to say. Dan's face reflected it. "Yeah…" He still didn't sound very convinced though, and Aaron frowned.

"Hey look. You never have to act on it if you don't want to. You can ignore it." Dan looked like he was about to interject was some more denial or start spouting some kind of family values, so Aaron leaned forward and slipped his hand into Dan's smaller grip that was cupping the little flame. The cadet jumped, but Aaron kept his grip. "It's a part of you, and you'll have to accept it someday." He rubbed a thumb along the back of hand soothingly, trying to convey comfort even though every hair on Dan's body was raised up in alarm. "I've seen guys before who just can't take it. They get all weird about it, you know, defensive, paranoid even. And I feel bad for those guys because, like you said, they don't fit in. Not with gays, not with straights, not with anyone, and especially not with themselves. Sad, really."

Dan hadn't relaxed, but he was beginning to stop looking like he'd jump off the desk chair and bolt. "I won't be there," Dan said, but he still had that childish uncertainty to his tone that Aaron couldn't just brush off. He just shook his head.

"Don't let it get to you. It only becomes a big deal when you make it one." He stepped away and helped Dan brush out some of the dust from the back of his purple chocobo pajama pants, ignoring the boy's jump.

They were just starting to walk back when Dan spoke up. "You make it a big deal." He cast a rather innocently curious look at Aaron that made Dan seem about six.

"I make it a big deal because there's nothing that makes me laugh harder than seeing guys three times my size jump and scream." Dan didn't seem to get the humor, but Aaron didn't mind. "Now, we should sleep. Cloud is merciless in the morning."

Aaron didn't get a thank you, but he hadn't expected one. Dan's thoughtful face was enough.

Reeve flicked off the lights in his cluttered office and stepped out on to the mundane hallway carpet, hiding a yawn in the shoulder of his jacket since he had another box of paperwork to drop off before he could head home. Tonight he didn't have to meet with Reno again, which was both a pleasure and a disappointment. Reno was, in many aspects, a rather good piece of entertainment for Reeve. He almost always gave Reeve something to chew on when he went to work the next day. Not meeting him though also meant another evening free to settle down with a glass of wine and relax.

He started down the hallway, passing several storage closets and dark offices, before coming to the one lit room on the floor where the night-staff secretary was. She hardly glanced at him when he dropped the box of papers off in front of her desk, just staring at the flickering screen on her computer, tapping an inch-long nail against the desk. He murmured a quick goodnight to her, but she didn't even blink. Like a zombiefrom one of those early sci-fi B-movies.

With the exams in full swing, Reeve's paperwork still didn't change. It never did. The problem with the Urban Development department is they were always given the same amount of paperwork—the difference was during the SOLDIER Exams or say, a parade, the paperwork was actually important.

Speaking of important, Reeve had passed by a certain Turk leader earlier in the day that looked like he was on a mission. Reno had mentioned he'd had a "meeting" with Tseng, but hadn't offered up details. Reeve assumed it hadn't gone well since Reno never had anything nice to say about the Turks.

He adjusted his briefcase over his shoulder with his now empty hands, before walking down the hallway, turning at the right corner, and opening the door on the end that led to the stairwell.

Reeve led a, admittedly, rather boring life. Unfortunately with the death of his family he'd sort of drifted out of any "fun" activities and into the monotonous drone of cubicle life. He therefore had to spice it up somehow, and that was what often kept him going when things became especially dull.

Instead of going down the stairwell, Reeve headed up. He went up nearly ten more stories until a small service door was found, almost hidden in a corner. This storage closet was like the attic of Shinra, and had a number of surprising things inside. Reeve had found it long ago, and came up often to entertain a hobby he had abandoned after childhood: tinkering with machines.

There was of course, Cait Sith, who was hidden up here in a box. He'd spent a good four months after the funerals obsessively fixing up the robotic cat and the giant moogle it rode on. He done several more projects over the next series of years but had finally begun to slow down when he started to recover from the loss. After Reno's distraction and minor chaos he could feel at the edges of Shinra, Reeve was ready for another one.

The attic was full of boxes, dust, and actually a number of small fiends. Activating Cait Sith, Reeve wandered into the old machine area while the moogle and robotic cat dealt with any of the smaller monsters that might want to snack on Reeve's ankles.

He dug around for a while into various boxes, tinkering a little with small clocks, broken fans, and a number of ancient computers without much interest, really just waiting to find something that would keep him busy for another month or two. As he searched though he found his mind wandering though, to the Turks, Reno, SOLDIER, and the emptiness of his job. When he realized what he was thinking about, he'd renew his search more vigorously, upturning a box or two while the cat chattered in the background. Inevitably though it swung back to the real reason Reeve was up here in an abandoned storage closet looking for something worthwhile to do.

He didn't find anything that night, nor for the next week whenever he decided to come up. It was just a dry spell, he'd tell himself, and he'd find something new to put his energy into. He just had to find it first.