Chapter 83 - Cracking of a Foundation

August, 2000

The three Firsts are muttering behind the stage. The three of them cluster around the snack table, picking the best pastries and cheeses. The sparkling water disappears at a frightening rate, mostly by Genesis. SOLDIER doesn't pay for the expensive brand that tastes different. Shinra's Administration does. Even Sephiroth has to admit to himself that the triple filtration makes it taste more natural.

Genesis refills his glass.

They wait for their time on the stage.

"I can't believe you get to walk on first." Genesis drains his glass and cracks open the next bottle.

"He is the Commanding General," Angeal responds for Sephiroth.

Sephiroth nods but his attention is drawn elsewhere. The voice of the speaker on stage is muffled but he picks up the inflections that he would know anywhere.

Genesis continues. "It's bullshit."

"It is not."

"Then why you next?"

"You know why." Angeal breaks a croissant in half. The staff hover around them at a distance. Their eyes are wide. These staff have been hired out. Seeing the three Firsts raid the table of food laid out for the Shinra family leaves them worried. Still, they won't raise a hand. This is a show conference, a way that Shinra shows the world that they are still the most powerful force on the planet.

"No, I certainly do not know why," Genesis scoffs and puts a full handful of chocolates on his plate.

Sephiroth listens as he eyes the edge of the steps to the stage.

"We are about to go on stage, Gen. You don't need to work yoursel-"

"It's because you are the shortest," Sephiroth cuts Angeal off, still watching the stairs, waiting. "It is the most aesthetically pleasing arrangement of the three of us. Shortest on the end."

Genesis comes up in his face and whispers, "would you like to get kicked in the balls?"

"Not particularly." Sephiroth listens to the crowd start to clap so he slips his attention away to Genesis. "Would I like to see you try? Very much so."

"Asshole."

A chocolate on Genesis' plate finds itself airborne. It hits Sephiroth's lapel harmlessly and rolls across the floor.

"Petty," Sephiroth says and doesn't move.

Genesis is about to respond when the current speaker exits stage right and sweeps into their space. They drop silent. Sephiroth knows who is coming so he is ready to see Hojo. Even on stage he wears a lab coat. His black hair is slicked back, shiny in the low lights of the back. He's sweeping forward, meeting an attendant with a tablet.

"Utter waste of my time. The common people won't understand my work, no matter how simple I make it," Hojo mutters as the screen lit up his face. "O-34 went into cardiac arrest? Did they at least inject it immediately? Don't they understand-"

The two of them are like magnets now.

Hojo stops talking, lowers the tablet and raises his eyes. They haven't seen each other since the day after his last exposure. The day that Hojo had blown into Sephiroth's ICU room and screamed at him in inadequacies. Every sensation has been tightened to pure jabs of pain by the mako. The words hadn't made sense. His ears only thrummed painfully. There was no defense. He could barely move. All he could do was shiver and wait through it and hope Hojo didn't injure him further.

The words didn't matter. Hojo's intention was clear. Sephiroth will simply never be enough.

Sephiroth squares his shoulders and tries to pretend that his heart hasn't started beating in his ears.

Hojo's fingers curl around the tablet. His teeth gleam in the light.

"Ready for your next performance?" He asks. The claws of those words hit him in the softness of his heart.

Sephiroth has to remind himself that there is distance between them. He knows that the scientist can't do anything here. There are people. They are in public. A faint part of Sephiroth knows how to snap a neck. His hands and arms are familiar with the gestures but there is no defense against Hojo. Not while this one question makes his fingers shake in a weakness. Not while he depends on the medication that only this man can give him.

Sephiroth's silence makes Hojo smile more. He knows what effect he has. The attendant next to him squirms. His eyes flicker around the room. Sephiroth doesn't look but he can only assume that he meets other similar worried eyes. Sephiroth knows how many appointments he has missed.

Alvar had watched the time slip by from his desk. Unlike everyone else, he doesn't remind him. The calls from R&D come after that and he apologizes and says he doesn't know where Sephiroth is. No one comes to his office to check because no one expects his assistant to lie. They never discussed it. It simply started happening.

The first time the lie slipped from Alvar's lips, Sephiroth had stared openly at him. He had said Sephiroth wasn't here with the SOLDIER directly in his line of vision. Once the call was over, Alvar had set down the phone and sighed deeply. Their eyes had met through the open office door. A soft smile had spread across his assistant's face and then he turned away to type in his computer and become anonymous again.

Sephiroth's knuckles finally get color back when that ritual call is over. It's quiet but it is the best rebellion he can give until Hojo either cuts off his medication and therefore cripples Shinra or gives up. They are in a stalemate until then.

Hojo licks his lips. They are with other people. He won't make a scene. There is too much at stake and it is dictated that there should be some sort of compatriotship. They both need to set a good example for the rest of Shinra and SOLDIER.

So SOLDIERs wouldn't fight R&D.

So they would go like lambs to the slaughter.

Hojo takes a breath. Sephiroth prepares himself for another onslaught. He is going to get hurt again. This man will reach inside him and tear out the remaining parts of him. He will examine them, bloody and dripping. He will tell Sephiroth he isn't enough. He-

"Professor, I think you should move along."

It's Angeal. Sephiroth blinks. His voice has dropped, almost unrecognizable in how dangerous and low it is.

Angeal steps closer, between them, his bulk appearing less loose and more threatening. "Don't you have someone else to attend to?"

"Hiding behind these failures, Sephiroth?"

He can feel the warmth on his face but he is not sure where it originates from. It could be Hojo's words or the relief of Angeal standing close.

"Don't bullshit us. We know about the shit you've pulled." Genesis adds in and throws a chocolate into his mouth. It's a practiced casual. The straight line of his back and the carefulness in his eyes tells a different story. Neither one of them have weapons but there is no need.

"Correction: you have only heard half the story. Sephiroth paints this scene differently than the factual evidence," Hojo says and forces his eye contact. "He knows it."

That stings him harshly. He had refused help. He had been weak when he needed to be strong. The pressure crumpled him time and time again. His throat tightens in a refusal that immediately feels like a lie.

"Fuck off back to the labs. Nobody wants you here," Genesis says.

Hojo's eyebrows raise. One of his feet scuffs forward. Anger appears through Hojo's body, making him seem even larger. Sephiroth wishes for Masamune because surely there is going to be only suffering after this but he can't defend against it. None of them can. Hojo can do whatever they like to them and he can't stop him.

Memories rise in him. It stalls his breathing. He remembers the tile floor. He remembers being slumped on a gurney dying for oxygen his body was getting. Glass was scattered across the floor. Blood. Why had there been so much blood? Mako everywhere, pooling under him, men drowning around him in it.

He's dizzy and shaking.

How are the other Firsts not locking up? How can Genesis be looking at him and not the threat across the room? When did his hand come to rest on his wrist? Can he feel him shaking? Did it matter? He is in an echo chamber with his own thoughts, momentum catching him harder and harder, slamming him against what is left on his grip of reality.

He's cracking again.

Genesis' thumb rolls across his sleeve. Sephiroth feels his breath catch as the constant rhythm snags his attention. It becomes the only thing he can focus on.

Angeal stands directly between Sephiroth and Hojo.

Sephiroth is helpless to all of it.

Then it is Director Lazard.

He plows into the room like a train, hurrying and oblivious to everything.

"I am sorry for the delay. Wutai are surging the coast." He apologizes and hurries in quick strides across the room, not even noticing Hojo. The tension hits him and disperses, breaking into pieces. He runs a hand through his hair and waves. "Sephiroth to me. Let's do this."

It snaps him to the present like a gunshot.

Everything falls away.

None of it is significant against a direct order.

"Of course, Director."

Sephiroth falls in line behind him as they approach the stage. He swallows an emergency pill to be safe. This is automatic. It is safe. They will go on stage. He will stand behind him and be a body. Angeal will be on his right. No more is needed than that.

Hojo leers as he passes.

"You know I'm right."

It is said in a whisper, intended for only him like a sword slipped into his stomach.

Sephiroth follows the Director of SOLDIER onto the stage.

The shock of everything makes him take his place on the black tape behind the podium without a thought. Lazard smiles at the applause that is meant for Sephiroth. Angeal takes his place next to him like a toy on a shelf. Genesis' mutterings hover just within reach. Lazard starts talking but Sephiroth stands away from himself, devoid of the emotions that they all expect him to feel.

It is easier to shut it all off and be apart from himself. Neither Genesis nor Angeal would approve. No. Sephiroth realizes feeling the eyes on him, they already know what he has done. They do not approve. The mask has slid back over Sephiroth's face. It doesn't matter. It has disconnected. He cannot feel it.

His eyes roll across the crowd that he can see. The lights are too bright to see beyond the first couple rows. Still, he sees her. She stands in the middle of the aisle, a broken form staining the carpet. The leather in Angeal's boots creak as he shifts his weight, edging an inch closer. They could not interact here. They are for show only.

Sephiroth sighs at at the figure standing in the aisle.

The naked woman is back.

Ever since the last exposure that almost killed him, she has started appearing in his life. She is a fragment, a leftover of something, a hallucination that he can't control. The woman hasn't come close to him. She watches him, her eyes drilling into him through her hair. She is not yet consistent. The figure hovers and eventually flickers away. In his office, at the apartment, in the gym, on the street, in the corner of his bedroom, there is no place that she cannot seem to appear.

He hates the idea of tracking it.

Tracking it would make it real.

It would make it a problem, realized and true.

Her wings are broken this time and brush against the ground. The feathers move like dead leaves down the walkway in the breeze.

She stands alone.

Just like him.

Sephiroth disconnects entirely. His eyes see nothing. He hears nothing. He stands stiff and at attention. Lazard talks about the future. He talks of honor. He talks of dreams. He spins an impossibility. The emotions echo around inside him like dice in a cup finding no purchase.

It is only a few days later that Mariella calls him to her office. At first, he wonders if she has found out about his hallucinations, the constant shake of his fingers or how his attacks have become more frequent. He has chosen not to report any of them. That minimizes the risk of R&D calling him in for an unnecessary examination. Instead, he orders more medication and hopes that it does not flag the system.

Still, when Mariella orders in him for an appointment, he confirms with her on the phone twice the time, place and that she will be present.

Hojo will not fool him again.

The regular exposure floors are clean and neat. Unlike the floors above, they are not immaculate. These walls do not look like they have been freshly painted or the tiles have been scrubbed because of blood. Someone had bothered to decorate the waiting room with a few photos and signs with words on them on each door instead of a sterile number.

She waits for him in the room, sitting on the doctor's chair. It's a relief. He does not have to be in an empty room and wonder who is going to enter the room.

"No tricks," Mariella says as the door closes behind him. She gestures to the seat next to her seat.

"A doctor saying 'no tricks' does not put me at ease." Regardless of what he says, he sits next to her and knows there is a touch of color in his voice.

She smiles at that as she shifts the chair to face him. Part of him scrambles for the details, the closed cabinets, the posters on the wall, the trash cans, the beige walls, the simple laminate tile, looking for the hidden danger. There is no camera inside of the room. It is just them.

She says, "that's why I was waiting for you in this room instead of coming in five minutes later. This is why I am telling you that the door is not locked and that you can walk out of this room whenever you please."

He nods and hates that she says that. He hates that it works. R&D is not a place that he wants to be. The coy smell of lemon itches under his skin. Still. She won't stop him from leaving. In contrast, she also won't leave him here to wonder if he was dying on the floor. Despite everything with Hojo, despite understanding Mariella better, he has learned in the weave of his muscle and the marrow of his bones that R&D will not save him.

Mariella adjusts the chair. The rollers squeal as she shifts her weight. Her elbows rest on her knees as she leans forward. A smile tries to come across her face. It doesn't reach her eyes. It raises her lips but the stress compresses it into something fake, something that makes him feel that he has to tread carefully. This smile doesn't reach her eyes. It isn't the one he's seen most recently when they are both outside the shadow of Shinra.

This is the Mariella Haynes of the Research & Development Department.

"I want to help you, Sephiroth," she says.

Those are not the words that he wants to hear. He knows that this might be her intention. She has proved it over and over but when she says it out loud, it turns false and sour.

"What do you mean by that, Mariella?"

The smile falters but she continues on. "You know that I have been here with you for all of your health difficulties."

He shifts and puts more weight on his feet. "Yes."

"I've been waiting to surprise you with this." Her eyes slide over him and she pauses. "I didn't say anything earlier because I didn't want the information to spread. I also didn't want to get your hopes up but I think it is time."

These are shadows. He's seen this before. Shinra employees learn this. They talk without talking about the subject. They shadowbox with each other. He doesn't have the heart for it. This is not a code that he wants in his life.

"I need you to talk clearly."

She nods again and organizes the thoughts in her head. Slowly she pulls out a small plastic tube from her pocket and offers it to him. It is an inch long, white and light in her hands. With the casualness that she handles it, he takes it. He is still wary. The plastic is as light as he thought it was going to be.

It rolls around in his palm.

"Do you know what that is?" She asks.

"No."

"You shouldn't," she says, "It is an implant. Usually it is used for things like birth control. It slowly releases medication into the body."

He looks up at her. His fingers curl around the plastic until it bites into his skin. He hopes she doesn't see how his fingers clench.

"No part of Shinra wants you to know about this concept. They know what they've done to you with the pills." She holds her breath as if trying to pull back the words she's said. "Those implants done right last three to five years, Sephiroth."

Three to five years.

Three to five years of freedom from the medication, from the R&D department, from Shinra. He watches for a lie in her face and sees nothing. There is exhaustion in her eyes, mixed with grief. She rubs her face and tries to lean back in her chair.

"I've tried multiple times to get them to approve it. They don't trust you enough so I continued to work on the compounds necessary for it in my spare time…using data collected by Shinra."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to have a choice in what you do with the rest of your life." She rubs her face and that is the first time that he sees a real smile flicker on her. Then her hands drop back to her lap and she is back to being a professional.

"Yours is more complex than that one." She offers her hand and slowly he puts the implant back in it. He wants to keep it. As if just having it on his body will keep him healthier. He doesn't dare to hope. There must be a reason that she is telling him this now.

She pockets it. "It will have to be put in surgically. It is not a simple process. To slow release something that isn't a hormone is a vague science. The compound that has to be created has to be able to withstand higher temperatures and last years within a challenging environment. None of it is easy but I've had time."

"Is it done?"

That is when her eyes drop away from him entirely. "It's not complete. That's the problem."

This is a tease. He stops the frustration from rising in his throat. She wouldn't do that to him.

"So why are you telling me?"

"Because Hojo is a horrendous human and I want to change something. I want to feel it again, like when you told me that Dinand was dead because of you. At this second, there are men dying terrible deaths for no real reason and I can't do anything to stop it. This is something I can do."

"If I stay on my current medication, will I die?"

She shakes her head. "No but you are trapped here."

He sucks in a breath at that implication.

"Finish the drug."

"The data I have is incomplete. I can't do it."

"Draw blood then. What do you need?"

She laughs but it is pained. "This is not blood draw simple. This is harder than that. This requires full labs, scans, staff, machinery, everything else we have been doing."

He goes quiet. The pieces start falling into place.

"For me to get the final datasets I need, we need Hojo to run those tests. Shinra doesn't want this. If I cause enough trouble, they will look closer than I can hide. I analyze the datasets for him but I take the information for myself too. This has always been all planned out. I gave reasons for these tests to be run. It's all scheduled."

He watches the complicated emotions in her eyes.

She reaches for his hand and he lets her take it.

"I don't want to say this but you need to finish your exposures. That's the only way through this work."