Warnings: Language, violence, and character death... nothing much.

Chapter 34 : Walk on the Wild Side

Cloud didn't stay out long. He heard glass breaking, wood snapping, and metal tearing. It sounded like the world was coming apart. The fear that the copter was going to fall out of the trees to smash into the ground—with them still in it—was enough to jerk him awake.

They weren't falling. They were already on the ground.

They were upside down, but they were on the ground and the helicopter was, mostly, intact. The ripping and tearing sounds had come from... He looked around trying to piece together the events. It looked like a huge branch from one of the glowing trees had come through the co-pilot's side of the cockpit and stabbed into the cabin, and it looked like the left-side door had been torn off. In fact, it looked like a large purple beast had torn the door off and was now running away with it... and Tifa?

Cloud squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand over his skull looking for injuries. He hadn't thought he'd hit his head that hard but he must have.

"You okay, Spike?" Zack asked.

"I think so," he responded. "Did a purple thing just make off with Tifa?"

"Indeed," Sephiroth confirmed. He had already freed himself from the harness and was standing casually on the roof, brushing his coat clean of glowing wood splinters. "It appears to be another one of Valentine's forms."

"Ah, gotcha" Cloud felt relieved. He didn't want to have to fight something with horns and claws that big just after having survived a helicopter crash. As long as it didn't hurt Tifa... he snuck another look out that side of the cabin. The beast—Vincent—was laying the fighter carefully down on the grassy path. Zack grabbed onto the side of his seat and undid his harness. He swung out and back before dropping to the roof. The copter rocked and Cloud lost his view of his friend.

"Please desist in swinging from the seats, Commander," Sephiroth said, "You're supposed to be a bat, not a monkey." Cloud laughed at Sephiroth's dry delivery. If he'd ever known this side of ShinRa's fearsome warrior existed he'd forgotten it. It was odd, but nice.

Zack glared at him in mock anger, "Go ahead and laugh, dog boy. Right now you look more like a bat than me."

Which was probably true, Cloud reflected, plus the upside-down position was giving him a headache. He decided to follow Zack's example. He grabbed the seat, released the harness, misjudged his timing and thumped into the side of the helicopter. He ended up a crumpled ball on the floor.

"Are you hurt, Cloud?" the General asked, frowning anxiously.

"Only my pride, sir."

He didn't reject the silver-haired warrior's offer of a helping hand. Neither did he object when Sephiroth ran anxious hands over his body, checking for injuries. Instead he leaned closer and inhaled the reassuring scent of the man. It was sharp and rich and Sephiroth's, but there was no hint of blood—no indication of damage at all.

While they were mildly flirting, Zack stuck his head through the twisted opening that connected the cabin to the cockpit. "How you doing Tseng?" he asked, "Need help getting out of your little hell-hole?"

"Functional and no. I'm fine," the Turk replied. As he was fumbling with the harness—and missing the latch by a large margin—Zack suspected Tseng wasn't as functional as he claimed. He could also smell fresh blood so he suspected that the enigmatic Wutaian killer did, indeed, need help getting out of the cockpit. Zack took a look at where Tseng was hanging. Considering the damage to the internal structure, there was no way they could pull him out through the cabin.

Ah well, he thought, there's always a Plan 'B'.

"Seph, can I get you on the far side of the cabin as counterbalance," the Commander ordered, "Spike, you take my place here and brace Tseng as much as you can. See if you can figure out where he's injured 'cause he's bleeding from some damn place. I'll go to the outside door and we'll get him out that way."

Sometimes, Cloud thought, it was easy to forget that his big, goofy friend was a highly trained and experienced SOLDIER until something like this made him remember. He was taking charge so easily.

They positioned themselves as the Commander has instructed, although Cloud climbed right into the cockpit which the larger First hadn't been able to do. The outside door was jammed, not unexpectedly. He called out to Sephiroth, "Ready?" Receiving an affirmative reply, the big First ripped the pilot-side door off its hinges. It made the copter rock but the General's weight on the opposite side kept it from flipping over.

Cloud braced the Turk's legs, keeping them from jiggling awkwardly. When he removed his hand it came away wet, sticky and coloured the rich red of freshly spilled blood. "I found his injury," he announced.

"Great," Zack said. "Give him a quick fix before we take him out. Stop him from bleeding the fuck out."

"Right," the Corporal agreed. A deep breath, a moment's focus—enough to make him aware of the burning-buzz that he recognized at his Cure materia—and then a thought, an image, of a body made whole; blood vessels closing, muscles knitting and skin fusing together. Tseng grunted as the green mist surrounded him, thickest around his thigh, of course, as that's where his injury was, but it travelled all over the Turk's body as if making sure he was completely well. Cloud knew that it would feel like thousands of centipedes crawling all over the skin, stimulating and disturbing at the same time. As the caster, he always felt a little dizzy and wired, as if the world was moving too slow yet spinning at the same time. He blinked to get rid of the after-effects.

"Better?" Zack asked the Turk. Tseng nodded. "Excellent. This is what we're going to do next. Cloud's going to undo your harness and I'm going to catch you. You don't have to do anything but let yourself fucking drop, okay?"

"Understood," Tseng slurred. He was still a little out of it from blood loss and the forced healing.

"Count of three," Zack said. He positioned his arms and caught Cloud's eye. "One… two…" he nodded at Cloud who understood the silent instruction and released the harness before Zack could say "Three." Tseng didn't have time to tense up. Instead he fell cleanly and smoothly into Zack's waiting arms. The SOLDIER gave a grunt of effort—Tseng wasn't exactly light—before carrying the wounded pilot out of the helicopter.

"We're clear," he announced and walked around to the wide, grass-covered path that Tifa had spotted from the air. Laying down the Turk and doing a more thorough check of the man's injuries.

"Cloud, we should begin unloading the supplies," Sephiroth said when the blond returned to the cabin.

"Yes, Sir," he acknowledged, "First, Zack's going to want his sword. In case something jumps out of the woods." They were in a potentially dangerous environment with known enemies in the area. Re-arming themselves only made sense. Besides, the General had already reclaimed Masamune so he couldn't object to the Corporal's priorities. Instead he went outside to see if access to the cargo compartment would require ripping off yet another section of the hapless machine. Giving Cloud the room he needed to remove the massive blades from where they were stored.

Cloud took his weapon out first and carefully swung it over his shoulder until it clicked into the SOLDIER harness. Then he grabbed Zack's sword, which was only slightly larger than his own, and left the helicopter. He trotted over to where the First was tending the injured Turk. His eyes swung over to watch the purple beast that was hovering protectively over Tifa's still form. It wore a kilt that looked an awful lot like Valentine's red mantle so Cloud figured Sephiroth had been right, but it was still weird to see as orange flames licked along the skin of its hands and wrists. Even more disturbing was its constant growling and chomping and drooling. It was almost as if the thing was preparing to eat her.

"Here," he handed over the Buster sword to Zack's grunt of thanks. He jerked his chin at the creature. "Has it, he… whatever, let you check Tifa?"

"Fuck no. I tried and that's when the flames started." Zack, hands on hip in a typical cocky stance, barely glanced at the duo. "Y'know, I thought Seph's growl was fucking scary but he's got nothing on that purple-beastie."

Cloud ignored the last part of his friend's statement. "You see any blood?" As if his question was a command, his eyes focussed and his sight sharpened until he could see the small pebbles buried in the grass around his fellow Nibelheimer. He could make out the stitching in her leather armour.

"Can't see any and can't smell any, at least not from that direction," Zack answered. Now Cloud's nose twitched and he could smell… everything. "I cast Cure on her anyway, just in case."

Cloud barely heard him. He was overwhelmed by the information pouring in through his nose. There was heated metal mixed with oil and hydraulic fluid. There was the tang of a spilt potion. One of the bottles must have broken in the cargo hold. There was hot electrical wiring and the pungent odour of melted rubber. The smell was fresh and growing stronger and Cloud thought that it was maybe smouldering in the damaged copter. But his senses didn't stop there. A bird had made its home in the tree overhead—he could smell a nest filled with old egg shells and dried bird shit. There was the smell of small, four-footed meat-eaters on a low-hanging tree branch just over there, maybe two or three individuals using the spot to mark a corner of their territory. That was very interesting and he felt the urge to explore the spot more thoroughly.

"Yo, Cloud!" Zack poked him in the shoulder, "You're not really a wolf, remember?" Cloud jumped and blushed.

"Sorry," he muttered.

Zack smiled, "No problem. Just didn't want to see you liftin' a leg or any shit like that. Gotta resist those animal instincts, right?"

"Well, rat boy, if you feel the urge to bite my neck, please do resist," Cloud retorted.

It only made the First's smile wider. He leaned forward. "That's not what you said this morning," he whispered slyly. Then he stood back and watched his pale friend turn poppy red.

Flashes of memory, almost physical in their intensity, made Cloud's breath shorten and his heart race; he could almost feel it again. Ohmuhgods! He wanted to feel it again. "Um, yeah, Tifa doesn't look to be, y'know, bleeding so it's probably okay to leave her." Cloud sputtered, "The, uh, General wants to, unload the cargo to, um, see if we need it all now that we're going to be carrying it ourselves."

Zack's grin was triumphant, "Let's get at 'er then, Spot." He turned to Tseng, "You just stay there and recover for a bit, because it might be a bitch to fight effectively if you're seeing three of everything." The Turk flapped a weak hand in acknowledgement.

They turned and walked as a unit back to where Sephiroth is examining the damage. "I believe it going to catch fire soon," the General said as a greeting.

"It might," Cloud agreed. "I can smell something hot but it's not burning yet."

"We'll have Tifa cast Ice on it before we go then," Sephiroth said. "Now, let's get the gear unloaded."

It didn't take long for the three enhanced warriors to empty out the storage bay. There wasn't much as they'd been planning on putting down much closer to the caves not hiking over the countryside for who knew how many days. As they carried the bags out to make a little pile, Cloud kept an eye on Tifa and, and Vincent. She was breathing steadily and Vincent wasn't hurting her but still... it made him nervous. However, it was after he was putting down the first bag that he saw a black and red haze forming around the gunman's alternate form. On the second trip it was swirling and getting brighter.

He was heading back to the copter to get the last load when he felt it—a pressure in the air, condensing and thickening. He turned around in time to see a flash. He flinched away, covering and blinking his eyes. When he looked back, the beast was gone and Vincent had collapsed to the ground beside Tifa.

"That's... a lot more impressive than vanishing wings," he said slowly. He couldn't help but wonder what had been done to the former-Turk to give him not one but two alternate forms. Like his wings but more. He could almost remember bits of the last three years; steel tables, green poison, cold voices... and one that hadn't been cold.

...puppet...Static flashed across his brain, spikes of lightning. Pain ran through his bones, through his mind, buzzing, burning... He shuddered. There were voices—a voice?—in the static, calling to him. Was it calling to him? Who were they talking to?

"Spike." Was that his voice? "Hey, buddy. You okay?" It was familiar, and friendly, better than that other voice—voices.

"Cloud!" This time the voice was sharp, commanding, "Snap out of it."

His mind drained as if some mental plug had been pulled. "Yes, Sir."

"What's going on, Cloud?" The silver-haired warrior was posed protectively over the smaller man. Zack was close on the other side of him.

"Um..." he swallowed down bile, "Flashback, I think." He took a deep breath then another. "I'm good now."

Sephiroth hummed in disbelief. He placed a hand under his blond lover's chin and lifted until he had a clear and full view of his face. He examined it closely, "Your pupils went slitted, like mine. Was Jenova talking to you?"

"I heard voices but they sounded male," Cloud responded. "Calm, even clinical." Mostly. Just that one voice had been different.

"That doesn't sound like what I remember of the Psycho Alien Bitch," Zack commented.

"No, it isn't," Sephiroth's eyes narrowed before he gave a short nod, "Very well. Before, in Nibelheim, you were immune to her voice. If you suspect that has changed, let us know immediately. We may have to adjust our strategy."

Cloud paled, "Understood, Sir." He didn't want that. He didn't want to hear her in his head. He remembered what the General had been like when he and Zack had gone to dig him out of the lab at the ShinRa mansion; what she'd forced him to become. She was hate and madness and loss of self. He didn't want to go through that again. "I'll definitely let you know." He looked up into the General's eyes. They were cat-slit and acid green and perfect. Sephiroth's eyes; not hers, never hers.

"You know, I can go check on Vincent and Tifa and give you guys some private time," Zack offered. Sephiroth scowled at the First and growled. "Shit. Guess not," he said but he glared a question at his CO.

"Until we're assured that he has complete control over all his aspects, I don't want you to risk yourself."

Zack's jaw dropped. "What the fuck? I'm pretty sure the danger is past, Seph. I mean, shit, the last time Vinnie came back from being something other, he didn't go back to it. Besides," he continued, getting a little offended, "it's not like the bastard can hold the safety of a whole fucking army camp over my head this time. I can fight back."

It was a fair criticism and the General ducked his head in embarrassment, "My apologies, Commander." Emotions had no place on a battlefield. Sephiroth knew that, had had it drilled into his mind time and time again, and still he'd made such an elemental mistake.

The dark-haired SOLDIER huffed, and put his hands on his hips, "I understand that you want to keep me safe, but you can't control every shitty little thing. I mean, come on. We just survived a fucking helicopter crash. I'm tougher than I look, okay?"

Sephiroth didn't shuffle his feet but Cloud could see that he came very close. "I will try to remember that."

"Fucking right. Now, you look after Cloud and I'll go check on Vincent and Tifa."

"You know," Cloud said dryly, "I survived that helicopter crash too."

Zack turned laughing blue eyes on him, "One of us at a time, Spike." Then he bounced off down the road. He dropped the bag he carried in the pile with the rest of their gear. He knelt briefly beside the conscious, but limp, Turk before bounding over to the rest of their group. Tifa was stirring, sitting up and rubbing her head. Vincent was still motionless.

"I should apologize to you as well, Corporal." The Silver General stared out into the distance.

"No need, Sir," Cloud disagreed, "Seriously, if I start to fall under Jenova's spell I'll be more than happy to have you or Zack jerk me out of it, any way you have to."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Cloud agreed whole-heartedly.

It didn't take much longer for Vincent to wake up, or come back, or whatever he called it when he became himself again. Physically, he was fine, of course, as were the three SOLDIERS. Tifa and Tseng had bruises but all their major injuries had been repaired and they were soon up and helping to organize the supplies. It was reassuring how normal everything seemed. Sephiroth began to hope that he'd be able to find a private moment with Cloud.

"Are the trees dancing?" Tifa asked.

Everyone looked at the glowing trunks. "They do seem to be moving," Tseng agreed, "slowly, spinning around us. Weaving. Remarkable."

"It's pretty," Tifa said. She tilted her head and her eyelids drooped, "I want to dance too." She drifted toward the edge of the forest. Zack was the closest. He stepped forward, grabbed around the waist and held her before she could get into the woods. "Let me go," she whined in a voice completely unlike her normal tones.

"You don't want to go in there, Tifa," he said.

"Yes, I do." She struggled against his restraining arm, "It's so pretty."

"Close your eyes," he ordered. He didn't expect to be obeyed but he had to try.

As predicted she pouted, "Don't wanna," and kept pulling toward the trees. She was strong enough that the First had to struggle to hold her. In desperation, Zack covered her eyes with his gloved hand. Surprisingly it worked; she calmed right down and let herself be held. He turned to see Sephiroth had the Turk in the same hold.

"Anybody else want to dance with trees?" the First asked and received head shakes from the modified fighters.

"They do seem a little blurry," Cloud said.

"And the light pulses slightly," Vincent added.

The blond tipped his head, "Oh yeah. Like a heart-beat."

"It's humming," Sephiroth stated, "A low pitched noise that's most annoying."

They all closed their eyes and listened. "Can't hear it," Zack said. Cloud shook his head in agreement.

"Maybe it's a reaction to the level of Jenova cells you carry," Vincent theorized.

"Perhaps," the General responded neutrally, still uncertain how to act around the ex-Turk: friend, foe, or father; beast, enemy, or hero. Now was not the time to analyze it, he reminded himself. "What shall we do with Tseng and Tifa? We can't tie them up and carry them."

"Well, we could," Zack started. Vincent growled. "But it would be a little awkward."

"Blindfold them and put them on a lead," Cloud suggested, "They should follow. I've seen nursery schools do it for little kids."

They looked at each other and shrugged. "Good idea," Sephiroth agreed so Vincent and Cloud searched through the packs to find some rope and something they could rip up for blindfolds.

They ignored Zack's desire for a PHS with a built-in camera, so they could record future blackmail material, but they did take the opportunity to finish the inventory of their supplies. The blond was surprised to discover a tent and blankets in one of the packs. Since they'd planned to practically fly into the cave, he'd have thought they wouldn't bother bringing stuff like that. Not that it wasn't smart to be prepared, but a tent was heavy and potentially useless and the storage space in a helicopter wasn't great. He tried, but he couldn't remember any mention of it during yesterday's meeting. However, he'd still been recovering then and a lot of it was fuzzy.

In contrast, memories from this morning were still nice and clear. 'I'm not going to look at Seph. I'm not going to look at Zack,' he ordered himself. Instead he, once again, pictured his drill instructor naked. It was ugly, but it took the edge off.

"Who thought of bringing the tent?" Cloud asked as an added distraction.

"Tseng," Sephiroth replied, "Disaster planning is an essential part of a Turk's duty."

"Optimism is not their thing," Zack added and even Vincent kind of smiled at that one.

Once they had the two normal people safely secured, they began dividing up the supplies. Cloud volunteered to hold the rope, and then had to ignore Zack's comment about dogs and leashes. It somehow felt wrong to expect Sephiroth, or even Vincent, to do it and he figured Zack would eventually try to play skip rope with them. He hadn't expected that he'd end up with the tent and the heavy potions as well. He'd be in the centre and Sephiroth, Zack and Vincent would surround them and keep them safe. As the warriors, Zack reasoned, they should be more lightly burdened than Cloud who only had to stay put and cast materia. Cloud looked at him sceptically. It was both logical and somehow lame.

They also put packs on Tifa and Tseng. After all there was nothing physically wrong with them; they just had to put one foot after the next. So they got to carry the food and the blankets, stuff they wouldn't need right away, then it was time to move out.

Zack pulled out a compass and tried to get a reading. He held it out, frowned, moved into the centre of the overgrown pathway, looked at the compass again and frowned even more. "Compass is useless. The needle just spins." He didn't know which way to go. Between the crazy, spinning crash and the high canopy, it was hard to tell which way was north. Tseng, when asked, responded with lyrical phrases of Wutaian poetry. Pretty, but completely useless.

"We should probably stay on the path," Vincent said quietly but his voice was overridden by the General's firm statement of 'This way'. The silver-haired warrior started marching up the pathway, sword drawn, coat swirling; utterly confident of the direction. With a shrug, the others fell into line behind him. Their footsteps made no sound on the grass covered road.

Quiet—thick and mysterious—surrounded them. It was as if they had entered another, enchanted, world. Warm magic reached out to them...

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall; ninety-nine bottles of BEEER..." Zack sang out—and ruined the spell completely.

They trudged along the road for what could have been hours. They didn't know because their chronometers didn't work in the forest either. It probably only felt like hours because both Tifa and Tseng had taken up singing the beer song shortly after Zack had started and they hadn't stopped singing it since. Neither of them was in key, or in sync with the other, and they kept starting over or repeating verses, or even counting back up. What they were was enthusiastic and loud—very loud. Sephiroth had never before considered singing to be a torture technique. Now he did. Thank the gods that potions cured headaches.

In his own defence, because he had started it, Zack pointed out that their noise could be a reason why they hadn't encountered any other living creatures. They hadn't even heard anything in the distance, running away, retreating from the onslaught.

Vincent had abandoned their group for the most part, fading into the forest in a swirl of red, only to re-appear occasionally and give them an all-clear. Once he brought back a red Summon materia that he said made his teeth ache. Zack had no such reaction and happily added it to his bracer.

Eventually the forest thinned. Tseng and Tifa's singing softened into tuneless humming.

"Thank all the gods and their offspring," Cloud muttered and Sephiroth thought maybe he and the blond would share the potion once they set up camp.

The forest ended at a high cliff but the path didn't. There seemed to be in a series of curving steps built into the face of the cliff. The steps were too regular to be natural; each 'riser' was nearly the same height as the others. It was also clear that it had been paved and smooth at one time.

"Is anybody else getting a 'lost civilization' feel to this place?" Zack asked.

"Just don't start with the spooky theme music," Cloud instructed, looking up the trail.

"Silence would be nice," Sephiroth agreed.

Cloud looked back at his two blind charges, following the pull of the rope on their wrists as docilely as baby moogles. "Think they'll make it up with the blindfolds on?"

"The forest has ended," Vincent responded. "There are no trees to hypnotize them."

"I'm not so sure," Sephiroth said. "I can still hear humming—not from them—and we cannot see the top of the cliff."

"I could go up and scout," Vincent offered, standing arms crossed, face buried in his mantle. Neither Cloud nor Sephiroth said it but they both suspected that the spooky ex-Turk was missing the dark-eyed fighter.

It was Zack who responded. He'd been standing beside the blond, staring up the path with an oddly intent and distant look. "I don't think that's a good idea. In fact, I think we should stick together for this bit."

They all looked at the First, who was being deadly serious instead of lightly bouncy. A quick exchange of glances, a silent agreement, and Sephiroth announced the decision. "Let's leave them the way they are. We can carry them if they can't handle the terrain."

"I'll go first," Zack said and started up the path. Sephiroth followed him, then Cloud and his charges. Vincent took up rear-guard.

*That was a refreshing place,* Chaos said. *It felt most welcoming, don't you think?*

'Hypnotic,' the gunman answered.

The demon scoffed, *Only for those with small, powerless minds. Mortals with no idea of the true glory that this planet holds... or once held. It's been so long since I've felt anything like it.* Vincent wasn't sure but he thought his guest sounded almost wistful. Its voice had certainly held none of the casual mockery it normally did. He wanted to find out more but didn't get the chance. *Predators approaching,* Chaos announced in his mind just as Zack called out, "Incoming."

Three short, yellow creatures jumped in front of them. They stood upright, waving paws that were more claws than anything else. They had large spikes running down their backs; tiny vicious eyes; and impressive sets of large teeth—suitable for rending flesh.

Cloud immediately pulled Tifa and Tseng to the side of the path and forced them down low to the ground. He assumed a defensive stance in front of the helpless duo and began casting Barrier. Vincent stood close to the three. Their actions were deliberate, pre-determined strategy. Vincent, nearly as tall as Zack was easily able to shoot over the head of the shorter man; because he used a gun, the longer distance between the ex-Turk and the targets was meaningless; he could also quickly turn and protect their vulnerable rear if an attacker came from that direction.

"Boundfats, or a version thereof," Sephiroth announced. Neither he nor Zack had moved from their positions in the center of the path. "They normally cast Blizzaga and are immune to Poison and Sleep. These might have some local variants, however."

"Got it," Zack acknowledged before leaping into the sky with a roar. They could see his sword start to crackle with energy. His wings came out from behind his pack, and a black cloud started to form between the little hands. Sephiroth lifted his sword just in time because two of the creatures ran forward, ducking their chins to present those long, deadly spikes to the target. Two swipes of Masamune and one was down, although in two distinct pieces, and the other was howling, bleeding, and retreating.

Cloud had time to think 'this is going to be over quick' then two more boundfats jumped down behind the last one, and then three more. He looked up. The cliff was lined with at least a dozen more. They were grunting and clicking their claws; getting ready to attack. While he watched, even more showed up and joined in the noise. "Vincent, up there," he called out. Shots obligingly began to echo in the narrow passageway, and yellow bodies began to fall.

By this time, Zack had landed his death jump. That took out two and staggered another. Zack's wings tossed the black energy at the crowd of attackers and Cloud only realized they had cast Gravity when a couple were flattened under the blackness.

From overhead came a wave of freezing cold. Sephiroth raised his right hand and a counter-wave of white heat poured out. The spells met somewhere in the middle. Boiling steam lifted to the edge of the cliff and caught some of the creatures. Their howls of pain drowned out even Vincent's big gun.

"There's more," the ex-Turk said, as calmly as if he were discussing the number of flowers in a garden.

"Fuck," Cloud muttered. A cool mist had settled over the battle area like a fog. It made it hard to see what was going on until it was too late. Which is exactly when he saw the little needles speeding out of the grey—too late. He heard Sephiroth grunt as he was hit.

"Godsdamnedpissingfuck!" Zack cursed. "Those cast Darkness."

"We have Eye Drops," Cloud responded and began digging through his pack.

"No worries, I'm good," the big First called back. "Who needs to fucking use their eyes anyway?"

"I find them somewhat useful," Sephiroth said sarcastically. The mist started to roil and turn and Cloud felt a breeze. The fog was sucked up in a whirlwind. A whirlwind caused by Zack who was spinning through a crowd of boundfats in a move Cloud thought was known as an Assault Twister. "Cool," he muttered. His searching hand finally wrapped around the little bottle it sought. "General, can you catch it if I throw it?" he yelled.

Sephiroth, who was still slicing through his share of creatures, turned sightless eyes to face him, "It's possible. Try." So Cloud did. He lifted his arm and threw. Very badly. It was obvious he had missed the silver-haired SOLDIER by an embarrassing amount. He cursed under his breath and started digging for another one. Then a black-haired blur intercepted the small container. Zack spun to a stop and handed it to the General.

"He needs to work on his throwing arm," was all he said before heading back into the diminishing horde with a whoop and a jump.

"Bats," Vincent muttered, "and their irritating echolocation."

Cloud ignored him and concentrated on casting Cure after Cure on the two SOLDIERs. Now that the fog was gone he could see where they'd been cut, he could smell the sharp-tang of their mako-enhanced blood. It would soon be over, he thought again, although this time he checked the cliff faces for any more of the yellow creatures. Cries of injured and dying boundfats rippled through the air. The General was throwing Firagas at them. Expressionless, with his black-gloved fist stretched out in front of him, he looked like a minor god of destruction. Cloud's breath was once again stolen by the realization that he'd kissed that face, that he'd had that hand all over his body—he'd had it in his body—and this was so not the place to be thinking of that, he told himself.

It wasn't self-discipline that brought his mind back under control; the smell of burning flesh and melting fat was sickening, overpowering, as the two swordsmen's movements forced out a wave of thick smoke. Vincent retreated a step, the gunman's desire for impassivity and control beaten by the stench of cooking meat. He didn't let his revulsion affect his rate of fire, however..

Cloud nearly gagged. He opened his mouth and breathed that way. It was at least somewhat more bearable.

"What's that smell?" Tifa ground out. The blond was concentrating so hard on not puking that he nearly missed the quiet question. Her normally pleasant voice was rough and dried out from all the singing earlier. "Why can't I see? What's going on?" She began to pull at the rope binding her wrist.

Cloud turned to stop her, placing his hand over hers. "It's okay. Just... be patient for a sec, okay?"

"Tifa," Vincent took an anxious step forward, his task forgotten for a brief but pivotal moment.

Cloud didn't see the spell cast but he saw the poisonous yellow-black ooze settle on Tifa's skin, watched it sink in, and heard her lungs start to rattle. "Shit! What was that?"

"Death Sentence," Sephiroth answered.

"Oh shit," the Corporal repeated, "How do I clean it out?"

"You can't," Zack answered, fighting off the last of their attackers.

"Fuck!" The First might have said more but Cloud didn't hear it. He was panicking. He shouldn't be panicking; he knew that. He'd had comrades die in the field before. He'd even held their hands before. He'd been able to think through it—figure out a way around it. Even in the labs, right up until the end, he'd kept his head. Now, when it meant so much, his mind was a blank. He could hear her growing struggle to continue breathing as her lungs filled. It was all he could hear. That, and his pounding heart-beat.

"Let her die," Vincent said calmly, his deep grumble breaking through Cloud's panic haze.

"What? Are you nuts?" He looked up to glare at the gunman, but stopped in amazement. There was a vibrant red-orange feather clutched carefully in brass talons.

"You can heal her, and keep healing her, but the spell will continue to kill her. If she dies, the spell is nullified." He twirled the feather. "At her last breath, place this over her heart."

"Phoenix Down," Cloud whispered in reverence as he took the precious feather.

"Yes," Vincent nodded, "Time it well, Corporal." Then the gunman stepped back and resumed firing.

Cloud leaned over his childhood friend. He stared into her eyes, "It's going to be okay, Tifa. Just relax. Relax." She nodded limply but the frantic fear left her eyes. She looked at the feather in desperate hope. "I need to undo your vest." She nodded again so Cloud hastily unhooked the leather and untied the cotton shirt underneath. Seven years ago, undressing Tifa in a secluded mountaintop had been his fondest wish. The thought flitted across his mind and was forgotten almost as quickly as it had formed.

"How're you doing out there?" he called out to the others even as he kept his gaze locked on Tifa's.

"We're good, Spike," Zack called out.

"It's nearly done," Sephiroth stated.

"Keep your attention on Tifa," Vincent ordered.

"What's happening?" Tseng's voice was hoarse, like Tifa's had been.

Cloud ignored him; someone else could deal with the Turk. He could feel the sweat forming on his temples, and dripping down his cheek. He felt like he had a train engine in his chest driving the blood through his veins at dangerous speeds. He had to focus past his own heartbeat to hear Tifa's, to listen as her breathing grew rougher and shallower. He watched as her skin faded from delicate to ghastly, and her lips went from warm rose to cold blue. The tendons in her neck stood out as she struggled both to breathe and to relax into death.

"It'll be okay, Tifa. This once, I'll be your hero." She nodded. "Just don't make a habit of it," he smiled at her and she smiled weakly back. Her breath caught, caught again. It seemed her whole body tensed... and then relaxed. A last breath rattled out, her eyes rolled back and Cloud was placing the feather on her still chest.

"C'mon, come on," he prayed, counting the instants before something—anything—happened. The feather sparkled, rippled with living colour then it burst into flame. The smoke rose to cover her face, settling over slack features. It took only a moment for the feather to burn itself out yet Tifa wasn't coming back to life. She couldn't die. She couldn't. She was all that he had left; the only person who'd known him before and could joke with him in a Nibelheimer's thick accent. Who understood about real cold.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,' he chanted. He could feel a scream forming, building. He forced it down. He wouldn't despair until there was no hope, not even the smallest dust mote, left. Zack had taught him that. Zack and Sephiroth. Phoenix Downs were legendary. It would work.

He blinked away tears and saw that the ash from the feather hadn't blown away like it should have. Instead it was still in the shape of a perfect feather, just done in greys and whites rather than reds and oranges. As he watched, the ash sank into her skin. Not bit by bit, but all at once. He could see the shadow of it under the surface. Then that too was gone.

She took a breath. She coughed. "Ramah's mercy, bless us all," he whispered in awe. She coughed again, bringing up water this time, and Cloud snapped into focus. He turned her on her side so that the water wouldn't run back into her lungs. He wrapped strong arms around her, placing a careful fist on her diaphragm, before squeezing and forcing out even more liquids. It seemed like litres, countless litres, gushed from her mouth, through her nose. She coughed and gasped and struggled for breath. But she was breathing.

Finally her lungs were empty. Her breath still sounded like it was being dragged through bubble gum, but it was strong and even. One last Cure and even that went away. He let her go and they both rolled onto their backs to lie in exhausted heaps. He'd done it. He'd saved her. So many people he hadn't been able to save: Zack, Sephiroth, his parents, his whole fucking village… but he'd saved her. He really wasn't worthless after all.

"Odin's fucking balls!" Zack's prayer was more colourful, but just as heartfelt. "Those Phoenix Downs sure like to ramp up the tension."

"You saw it?" Cloud asked confused. He thought the First had been hit by the boundfat's cast Darkness. He said as much to the SOLDIER.

"I was," Zack crouched down next to his friend. "Turns out being spliced with bat DNA gives me some resistance to Blind. Pretty good for a little not-rodent, right?" His eyes were gentle and the hand he placed on Cloud's arm was affectionate.

It was good to know. "At least you managed to keep your mouth shut while you were fighting," Cloud smirked, letting his eyes shut tiredly.

"Yeah, I did," he sounded happy and innocent but Cloud was too worn out to open his eyes to see what the First was up to. "By the way, Corporal, you did good throwing the materia but we'll have to work on your inability to throw little bottles."

"Asshole," Cloud muttered, but he was smiling.

Zack smiled back, "Woof."

AN: Thanks to Mizu Hoseki, who pointed out this continuity error: In the original version of this chapter, when Cloud asks what cleans out a cast Death Sentence, Zack answers "Esuna. Which we don't have." Actually, they do, but I when I did some more research, it turns out Esuna wouldn't work on it anyway. You need to pre-cast Death Force as a defensive measure to be protected from Death Sentence. Otherwise, it's 100% effective. However, as we all know, in FFVII (and all FF games) death is never the end. =]