Chapter 77 - Understanding the Cost

November, 1996

"How could this happen?" Sephiroth tries to keep his voice level. He stares at Mariella. "You are a doctor. You specialize in this. How could you let this happen?"

They had moved inside the house that Orlin is living in. It is small and clearly decorated by someone else. It's too homey and warm for Orlin's efforts. Paintings hang on the walls of country landscapes. Unused pots and pans are displayed in the kitchen. It's a disconnect. Still, it barely catches his attention. The air stings with the emotions in his throat.

Orlin sits on the coffee table between two couches, dividing the space between Mariella and Sephiroth. Mariella leans against her couch. Sephiroth can barely hold himself still. They look at him, watching.

"Do not stare at me saying nothing."

Mariella glances at Orlin and he shrugs back at her.

"Degradation is part of the life cycle of SOLDIERs," she says it like that answers all his questions.

He shakes his head. "No, I've seen it happen. It never happens like this. Orlin's time shouldn't be now. It takes extreme conditions to start it early."

"The half life of mako can vary depending on the method of exposure and treatment." He knows what she is saying is true but there is a way that she is standing, almost half off balance that makes him push.

"Orlin shouldn't be this sick." He waves at him. "What happened?"

Mariella holds her breath.

"Hojo, Sephiroth," Orlin cuts in before she could answer. He leans back on the table and winces. "He got tired of letting me do whatever I wanted. It's almost a compliment."

Sephiroth sucks in air. Upset rolls up in him but he presses it down, forcing it deep into his stomach. Mariella shifts, avoiding his eyes and crossing her arms.

Orlin nods at her. "This asshole saved me."

Sephiroth blinks at Mariella.

"I didn't." She shakes her head.

"You did."

"It's more complicated than that."

Orlin focuses back on him. "Remember the big battle? The first summon battle? The one where you went MIA?"

"Yes." It's a stupid question but going back to that day reminds him of drowning. All those memories and feelings are still there. He has built a wall between the two of them but it isn't impossible to break it. He had felt the lapse earlier today. He didn't need another one.

"Actually, I need a drink for this." Orlin pushes up and walks over to a bookshelf where the middle shelves have been converted into a bar. "Anyone else? Mariella? No? You both have always been the boring type."

Orlin swings back with a whiskey bottle in his hand to point at Sephiroth. "You shouldn't drink."

Sephiroth nods. "I've stopped. We can both agree to that."

He turns back around and fills the glass. "Good. Don't follow my example. Also don't get hurt in big battles. It might land you in ICU with a tag on your record that you could be 'damaged out' of the SOLDIER program for psychological trauma. It's a real no-no." His voice tightens. "It's kinda shit actually just how quickly you can get hurt when you are trying to save everyone else."

"Hojo put a requisition order in on Orlin," Mariella takes over for him. She sits against the arm of the couch and studies the pattern. "It was a matter of hours before they would have come to collect him. I kept an alert on his account. It was part of our deal when he went to you. I'd keep him as safe as I could from Shinra and he would come help you."

"Good thing you kept your part of the deal." Orlin nods with his glass.

"Don't treat me like I saved you." She doesn't look up from tracing the pattern.

"This is where we vary in opinion." He tells Sephiroth and winks.

She snaps up to him. "You are joking even now."

"Yes, I am because this sure as hell beats Deepground."

Just hearing that name makes a jerk in his stomach. Orlin and that awful place were never supposed to intersect.

"You were going to Deepground?" Sephiroth asks.

Orlin takes a drink and nods. "SOLDIERs that disappeared go there. Apparently Hojo tries to make them 'better.'"

Distantly Sephiroth knew this but it was one of those facts that was completely out of his control. Deepground is a secret but when it came to the upper echelons of Shinra, there were things that the staff knew about Hojo that no one dared talk about.

Mariella gets up and moves towards the bookshelf. "I don't have access. It is above almost everyone's clearance. Hojo doesn't trust me enough but I see the bodies afterward. Or what is left of them." She sighs it out as she opens a bottle of wine. "We measure their exposure levels."

The cork pops free and she takes a glass. She frowns at it and wipes the edge.

"Hey, I was saving that for a special occasion." Orlin doesn't even sound angry as she pours herself a glass.

"This is a special occasion," She says.

"That still doesn't explain why-"

Mariella's voice is tight as she cuts over him. "He's part of my program. I needed a volunteer to track the effects of early onset degradation. If we can learn the scope of effects, we can learn to combat them. I needed someone to track. Someone we knew almost all the biology on. Someone who got into the SOLDIER program very young."

"We can thank Gast for all of that." Orlin takes a drink.

"You…are monitoring him." Sephiroth can't think of any other way to say it. It is supposed to be a question but it comes out as a statement.

Mariella drinks heavily and nods. "In a way. Yes, I am."

"I only had probably about five years left before it hit me naturally. I would rather take this over whatever revenge that Hojo has planned for me," Orlin says.

He only had five years left naturally.

Naturally.

Sephiroth turns to Mariella, every thought of trying to repair their relationship broken in his mind. "You triggered his degradation early. You made him useless to Hojo. That's how you got him out of it."

She stares back at Sephiroth. "You don't know what it was like. You were unconscious in the ICU eight doors down. I hadn't slept for two days. Orlin had recovered enough to be moved. My choices were very limited. I did the best I could."

Orlin stands up before Mariella can say more. It doesn't matter. He can see it on her face. A mixture of defensive pride crosses her face as she drinks the wine. She had made him start degrading. They would know how to do it. Surely by now, they knew enough to trigger the process.

The room has no oxygen.

She's killed Orlin.

"Sephiroth." Orlin stands between them, physically breaking Sephiroth's glare. "Let's take a walk."

"How could you-"

"Mariella, drink my fancy wine." It's Orlin's turn to cut him off.

Sephiroth can feel himself stutter in anger. A weight is on his shoulders as Orlin tries to muscle him out of the door. The shoves are weak. Nothing compared to what he could have done a few years ago. That makes the anger in him even worse. It doubles when he realizes that he would have to play along instead of being physically pushed out. Orlin couldn't manage it anymore.

He frowns as he stays still against the push. They needed to talk.

"Please don't murder the head of exposure, I wouldn't advise it." Orlin smiles. "She's got some killer needles."

His gut twists. "How-"

"Ah. Too soon. Right. Move SOLDIER." It's an order in the tone of a commanding officer. It got his feet moving before his brain could catch up. That voice from Orlin is hardwired into his brain. The door closes. They are on the porch. His shoes clatter against the wood boards. There is a physical wall between them. The air is freezing against his face. He stares at the house, trying to keep the emotions from bleeding too far onto his face.

Orlin watches him. "And that's not enough space, keep going."

He's pushed off the porch and onto the road. He forgets to be upset about being manhandled like this. Mariella's decisions have always stretched into the gray territory but this is black as coal. How could she do something like that?

"Take a walk. I'll wait for you here." Orlin points off down the road.

Sephiroth's mouth opens. "She's made this happen."

"It was our decision," Orlin says, easy and calm. "Take a walk, cool off and then we'll talk."

Sephiroth can't believe the smile that has somehow made it on Orlin's face.

"How can you be happy? You are dying because of her."

Orlin sighs and leans against the railing of the porch. "Yes, thank you for telling me. You aren't hearing what I am saying."

"I think I am hearing well enough."

His eyes shine and he shakes his head. "You aren't. Walk it off."

"Don't treat me like a child."

"No, I am treating you like a grownass adult who needs to calm down. I'll be here." Orlin stands solidly.

Sephiroth's mind can't put these pieces together. He doesn't want to put these pieces back together. This shouldn't be happening. An edge of his mind is connecting the facts together that he doesn't want. The guilt is starting to roll into him, strong and hard.

"It happened. You got seriously injured that day. It isn't a rumor."

Orlin doesn't even flinch. "Sephiroth, both you and Dinand went MIA. The two of the three Firsts on the battlefield disappeared in the middle of one of the biggest disasters Shinra has seen. Everyone stepped in and covered each other's backs when retreat was called. The bahamut got me fair and square. I was dragged off by my own men. I'm lucky to have made it back at all."

The stars don't tell him anything as he looks away. The consequences keep coming. It's his fault again. It's always his fault. The anger burns against him. If he hadn't been selfish, then they would have to be here. Orlin would still be at Shinra, leading troops and making Sephiroth laugh at stupid jokes. Part of him says that he didn't know. How was he supposed to know?

Then again, Sephiroth had accepted it all at that time. It hadn't mattered. He had signed a blank check for his revenge.

He had been so incredibly selfish.

A sucking of a breath brings him back. Orlin's face has scrunched up. A hand plants itself against his chest. He drops to sit on the porch step heavily.

This isn't about Sephiroth.

Orlin doesn't notice when Sephiroth crouches down in front of him, hand on his neck. His skin is cold and wet to the touch. The pulse in his neck is uneven, tangled up in itself. He shakes for a second and then it passes. Orlin's mako eyes open to his. The smile is gone. His face is almost unfamiliar without it.

"Can I heal it?" Sephiroth asks.

Orlin snorts. "My entire cellular structure is falling apart according to Mariella. So no, no magic is going to heal it. It just fucking hurts. The whiskey hasn't kicked in yet. Go walk. I'll be fine."

Orlin's fingers wrap around his own and drag them off. Orlin leans against the railing. A moment passes. Sephiroth watches the muscles in his neck fight themselves as he breathes in air.

"I'm sorry." Sephiroth doesn't know what else to say.

Orlin sighs, the exhale dragging the rest of his energy out of him and closes his eyes again. "Mariella saved me from Hojo. I get to be here for a couple years. I get to do what I want. She's making it happen as slowly as she can until it's too much."

"Is it too much?"

They have to wait through another attack of shakes. Orlin's teeth chatter.

"No. Not yet." His forehead wrinkles. He shivers again but he stops it. The gray in his hair stands out in the starlight.

"Orlin, I thought you were dead."

Orlin's eyes open again, glassy and unfocused. "Kid, I'm free. The only way for that to happen, I have to be dead. Now go get the damn doctor. She'll have something for the pain."