Chapter 40: Do I Have To?

Summary: Aerith is a lot more worried than she lets everyone see, but maybe, at last, she's found a solution.


Aerith watched Zack march away up the beach. His back was rigid. His steps, aggressive. His hand – the one not wrapped around the hilt of his sword – clenched and unclenched as if around an unseen neck. Probably Hojo's.

Rage – and the Calamity's cells inside him – forcing Zack to move, move, move.

He'd come back. He'd promised.

And Cloud had promised to keep Zack safe, so she didn't need to worry. Not about Zack's safety and not about the anger he felt, either. She'd known it was there; had felt it behind his "jokes" about killing Hojo.

No, what worried her was Zack's belief that someday he'd turn into a monster, too.

It wasn't impossible. Shinra had injected mako into SOLDIERs and (apparently) Jenova cells. Mako caused mutations, and Jenova… The Calamity was not from Gaia. Who knew what changes it could cause in a human body? (Well, Hojo had probably had a theory, or he wouldn't have done it. But he was dead, so she wouldn't be getting any answers from him.) And, of course, both the Jeniroths they'd encountered had been SOLDIERs just like Zack, so he had proof SOLDIERs became monsters, where Aerith just had hope.

Mako, even in the highly concentrated form SOLDIERs had gotten, was natural. It was part of all creatures that were born, lived, and died on the planet. It caused problems in high doses – it was probably like listening to the Planet, which was hard enough for Aerith to do and she was descended from the Cetra. Yes, too much could cause unconsciousness, comas, and even death, but those weren't mutations. So, the mutations came from The Calamity.

The Calamity's cells weren't natural to the planet, and they weren't natural to any of The Planet's creations, therefore, it was just a matter of figuring out how to rid Zack of the Jenova bits. Or at least neutralizing them. Or just thinning them out...

She sighed.

When Zack had fallen off the cliff south of Junon, she'd used Curaga on him, and she'd given it an extra push. She'd tried tweaking that push the next few times she'd healed him, but Zack's … energies (for lack of a better term), they hadn't changed. They stayed the same unsettled mix he'd come back to her with. She'd tried Esuna, but Zack wasn't affected by something that could be Cleansed – he was changed. Whatever Hojo had done bonded the mako and the Jenova cells to Zack's in a way that was permanent.

Her eyes dropped away from the distant beach where she couldn't see Zack anymore. Her gaze fell on the sand in front of her. It was churned up from the fight. The streaks from Cloud's new limit break made it look like Ramah had run his spread-out fingers through the sand and left bluish glass behind. It was pretty. The sunlight glinted off the spiky peaks and drew her eye along to the centre where the sand was dark purple. That was Hojo's blood. Not as much as there should be considering Zack had chopped his head off three times! It hadn't even soaked into the sand much. Instead, there were clumps that looked like custard, half melted in the sun.

She shuddered as she remembered it oozing out of Hojo. It hadn't acted like blood, and even now, it didn't look like blood.

She stopped.

Because it was Jenova's!

Her eyes widened with hope, and she lifted onto her tiptoes in excitement.

She didn't need to study Zack's cells. She needed to study Jenova's! The way to protect Zack from the effects of The Calamity was to be able to recognize its patterns the way she recognized the difference between healthy plants and sick ones; good soil versus poor ….

Easier said than done, she thought, lowering flat on her feet as she realized the difficulty. Her head tipped to one side while she considered the problem.

Jenova was an alien. Its cells didn't belong here. They didn't match anything here: not her flowers, not Zack – not even the poor mako-addled monsters from under the plate. She didn't know how to manipulate alien cells. But she could learn!

First step: figure out which cells were alien…

She tipped her head the other way while she considered this roadblock. Could she try to communicate with Zack's cells the way she communicated with her flowers? Would they tell her which ones didn't belong? How would she know the cells responding weren't The Calamity lying to her? She'd need to already know how Jenova's cells felt in order to figure out which cells were tainted!

Oh! she bounced a little as she realized she already knew how to sense tainted cells. All those times in the underground lab, all the encounters with Jeniroths since. When she'd reached out to sense The Calamity's taint, she'd thought it was poison or contamination, but it was the J‑cell's unnaturalness.

She was half-way to a solution already!

Maybe.

It was a good theory, though. But theories needed to be tested, right? How to test it without Zack. Her eyes were drawn back to the purplish goo on the sand. Hojo had injected himself with J‑cells. She could confirm that she was right by checking the blobby stuff he'd left behind. If it felt the same as the monsters in the secret lab, and all the Jeniroths they'd encountered, then she'd know that it was The Calamity. Then she'd be able to pick those cells out from Zack's normal ones – normally enhanced ones, she corrected – and then he wouldn't have to worry about degrading or monsterhood or anything!

She could do this! It wouldn't be easy, but it did at least finally seem possible...

The ball of excited hope that grew in her chest took her breath away so fast she squeaked, but she didn't care, couldn't care! She clasped her hands together, holding them to her chest, trying to soothe her rocketing heart.

This was great! This was huge! She bounced around to share her plans with Tifa and Genesis, and stopped (with another little squeak, but this time not of joy.)

"Oh…."

In front of them were twenty or thirty security troops, all pointing their guns at them. "Freeze!"

"It's 40 degrees Celsius. We're hardly likely to freeze."

"Genesis!" Tifa hissed, even as her hands went up. "This is not the time."

"You're all under arrest!" shouted the only one who didn't have a blue collar.

"Oh no," Aerith wailed softly. "Tseng is going to give me such a lecture."

"Ah yes. Your guardian angel," Genesis purred happily. (At the sound, half the guns that had pointed at her and Tifa pivoted to point at him. Genesis, of course, ignored them all.) "You really should give Tseng a call. Don't want him finding out from… other sources."

It was a ploy. Aerith knew it was a ploy, but it was still true. Calling Tseng to tell him they were under arrest would make him less likely to lecture – or just keep the lecture short, hopefully– if he heard it from her and not from message boards or the news. Aerith could do without the patronizing "you're too fragile" judgements, or at least with fewer of them.

She sighed, giving in. Taking in a bracing breath she looked at the person who seemed to be in charge. "I'm sorry. I have to make a call."

"That can wait," the red-scarfed trooper-leader person said.

"It really, really can't," Aerith replied earnestly. Both Tifa and Genesis backed her up, but Aerith didn't think the trooper-leader cared. "I'm just going to reach into my pocket and take out my PHS, okay?" She matched action to words, but the red-scarfed one lifted his gun and that made all the other troopers lift their guns, which made Genesis power up his Fire materia…

"Dude, man! Not cool! They're the good guys!" yelled one of the many spectators who'd drifted back to the beach. Other people joined in: "You can't arrest 'em," and "They didn't do nothing," and "They showed up after the monster came."

It froze the security forces long enough for Aerith to dial Tseng.

"Aerith." His voice was flat, unenthusiastic, but Aerith didn't let that scare her: Tseng always sounded like that.

"Hi, Tseng. Sorry to bother you at work, it's just that – "

"What happened?"

The red-scarfed trooper-leader shouted at her. She didn't let that bother her either. "So, we're in Costa del Sol and we ran into Hojo– "

"Somebody is dead."

Wow, she thought. He really is psychic. She waved at Red Scarf to shush him. "Uh, Hojo turned into a Hojonova, well several– "

"He turned into a what?" Finally, a bit of emotion showed up.

"A Hojonova," she repeated. "You know… Hojo and Jenova mashed together– "

"Of course." He was back in control. She heard a PHS ring and saw Red Scarf dig into one of his many pockets. Very useful things, pockets. "Reno and Rude are on their way."

Aerith tensed. "No, no! that's not necessary, Tseng. Honest. We're fine. We're all fine!"

"They're trying to arrest you."

She looked at the troopers and all their guns. Most were still watching the team, but some of them – the ones closest to Red Scarf – were watching their leader as he "yes, sirred" and "no, sirred" his end of the phone call.

Aerith sighed. "Tseng, are you scaring the poor trooper-leader person?"

"Force Sergeant Pel Wolcomb," Tseng replied. "And I am talking to you right now."

It was both terrifying and somewhat reassuring.

"He was just doing his job," she told her Turk guardian. "Nobody got hurt." Nobody she cared about, anyway.

Tseng made a neutral sound. "Four hours, Aerith. Please go back to the mansion and wait for Reno and Rude to arrive."

Aerith wanted to protest, but Tseng had already hung up.

She closed her phone and looked at poor red-scarfed Force Sergeant Pel Wolcomb in sympathy. He was still "yes, sirring" and standing very straight. He didn't look happy.

Once he'd closed his PHS, she sidled over, hands clasped casually behind her back. "Nothing will happen to you," she said reassuringly. He gave her a wild look, unreassured.

She tried again. "You did nothing wrong."

"I know that!" he snapped. He gave his PHS a scared look.

"They know it, too." And if they didn't, Aerith would make sure they heard it from her. Again. "Were you told to take us straight to the Shinra Villa?"

Again, Force Sergeant Wolcomb gave her wild eyes. She smiled at him. "They said that to me, too. However," she emphasized, "I would like to examine that –" She pointed at the purple goop that was all that was left of Hojonova. "– before we go."

The force sergeant looked at her then at the goop. "You want to examine that."

She nodded earnestly. "It's all that's left of this particular monster, but there could be more."

It probably wasn't the way she batted her eyes that made him allow her to go into the sand, but the important thing was that she was allowed. She stepped carefully, because she was still barefoot – "Oh! Our boots!"

"I've got them," Tifa replied.

Aerith gave her a wide smile, "Excellent!" and watched as the fighter's sun-and-battle pink skin went a little redder. Since there were more important things to do than worry about Tifa's repressed sexuality, Aerith ignored the blush and silently took the boots and put them on – better the goo got on its leather rather than her skin.

She didn't even have to get too close to feel The Calamity's presence. In fact, it felt like it was reaching out to her. A thick, consuming, blankness … Comfort. Purpose … Power. Destruction…

Aerith slammed down the mental barriers she learned in the lab from her mother, the ones she'd been working hard to remove since starting this job. "Well, Jenova's not dead."

"Who's Jenova?" asked the force sergeant.

"The Calamity that wants to kill us all," Aerith answered brightly. "She's turning out to be really hard to kill."

"Do you want me to burn the… blood?" Genesis asked.

"Yes, but not just yet," she replied. Then she looked at him. He'd been exposed to Jenova cells. "Actually…" She almost suggested they come over to her, but looking at the glass and the globs, it was easier if she went to them. "Hold out your arms, please." Jenova's cells were at her back, crying out to be let in.

Genesis raised a brow, but Tifa lifted her arm without hesitation. Her cells were coiled, waiting to be filled with the power and mana that was the birthright of all creatures on Terra, just more. Definitely mako enhanced, but unlike most people who were exposed, Tifa had integrated it so she could use it. It was what let the fighter punch a drake and heal from injuries with barely a mark. It reminded her a little of Zack's cells. This is what SOLDIER had started as.

She let Tifa go.

"Please," she repeated to Genesis.

"For comparison?" Genesis asked.

She smiled at him. "I'll be gentle."

"Comparisons to what?" said Force Sergeant Wolcomb.

"Oh, good point!" She turned back to the trooper leader. "You haven't been exposed to mako and/or been experimented on by Shinra's Science Department, have you?"

The sergeant's eyes were back to being wide. "No?"

"Perfect!" she said happily. "Please come here."

"What?" His eyes went squinty.

"I just need to touch your skin if you don't mind. It won't hurt."

He took a step forward, then stopped. He waved one of the blue-scarfed troopers forward instead. The boy looked nervous, but he shuffled closer. Aerith smiled at him and repeated her question about exposure. The trooper swallowed and shook his head. "Let me touch your wrist, please." Another swallow, but the boy did as she asked.

His cells didn't vibrate with potential.

"Can you use materia?" she asked. She knew the answer already, so she wasn't surprised when the boy shook his head again.

There was no power, but there was something….

"Um, have you had your kidneys checked recently?"

"My what?"

"Kidneys," she repeated. "Or maybe liver. One of those important organs. You should get them checked. Heal material is good for injuries, but it doesn't work so well on diseases."

The boy tore his wrist from Aerith's grasp. "Fuck you! I'm not diseased."

Suddenly, Genesis was looming. "The lady was offering you medical advice, not judging your lifestyle."

Genesis…

She hadn't actually touched Genesis yet, so she reached out and took his hand. She did it in part, to stop him from attacking the poor boy, but her awareness was so open from trying to track down the trooper's sickness that it was overwhelming...

So much power!

It coursed through his blood; it filled muscles and organs. It jittered with mako, ready to act on his command, but the mako was twisted a little. It didn't just provide physical power but magical power as well. Was this why he could light his blade on fire when others couldn't?

Her awareness was drawn toward that twist. She wanted to examine it. It didn't feel like Zack's energies – not really – but kind of? She reached farther, to see if it would reach out to her like Hojo's blood had done.

It stayed clinging to Genesis's cells, cloaking nothing but them. Layered on rather than integrated. It wasn't mako, but it wasn't not mako. It was natural, but not familiar. Strange, yet alluring…

"Are you quite done feeling me up?"

Aerith opened her eyes and realized she was plastered to Genesis. Both her hands cupped his face, and she was trying to burrow her forehead through his shirt to his skin.

"Beg pardon!" She jumped back.

"No apology necessary, dear Aerith." Genesis's smile was gentle, not mocking. "Did you sense anything? Are any of my 'important organs' on the verge of failure?"

She looked around at the crowd. Some were staring avidly; some were looking away in embarrassment. All were listening.

"You're good."

He laughed. "Oh, I hope not. I sincerely hope not." He lifted her hand to his lips and gave her fingers a small kiss.

"You can feel me up anytime, baby!" was yelled from the crowd breaking the spell.

When the hoots and laughter ended, Tifa asked if she'd figured anything out. "I think so…" she answered uncertainly. "I think I know how The Calamity mutates a person's cells, but I really need to examine Zack again. And maybe Cloud."

"I'm sure they'd both love you to examine them – separately or together."

Aerith squinted at Genesis. "You're suggesting a threesome, aren't you?" Genesis's smile confirmed it.

She lifted her chin regally. "I believe I'm ready to return to the mansion. Some nice cooling shade sounds lovely right now." Genesis's smile deepened.

"Reno and Rude will be joining us."

That got rid of Genesis's smile but once it was gone, Aerith kind of missed it. He had a lovely smile.

"I could use a shower and a litre or three of water." Tifa plucked at her shirt. It had been white when they'd left the villa. It was kind of grey-brown now, with flecks of purple...

"Oh!" she jumped a little as she remembered. She turned to Force Sergeant Pel Wolcomb once more. "We need to burn that." She waved at the purple goo slowly melting into the sand.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why?" Really, he was the most suspicious person. Although, that was probably a good thing in a law enforcement officer?

"Because it's evil," Tifa answered him.

"And it can contaminate by touch, so burning really is the safest option."

"Burning," he said slowly. Aerith nodded. He sighed. "And what about the smoke and the ash?"

There was sarcasm in his tone, but Aerith just smiled. "The smoke will be fine – we'll make sure it burns hot enough that it'll be safe – as long as you don't bathe in it. If there's any ash..." She tipped her head to think about the problem. "Bring it to the Shinra mansion. They caused the problem; they should have to deal with it."

"Riiiiight." His drawl was disbelieving but resigned as if he knew his opinion didn't matter. (Which, after a phone call from the "Investigation Section" of the "General Administrative Affairs Department", it didn't. Really, the Turks were a very poorly kept secret.)

With that probably in his mind, Force Sergeant Wolcomb obediently tasked a small squad to keep people away from the purple mess and another one to get the tools they'd need to clean it up after. When they were all satisfied that it was safe – meaning the smoke wouldn't go into nearby buildings (which, honestly, hadn't Force Sergeant Wolcomb heard of Air materia?) - Aerith cast her arcane flower and then Genesis and Tifa blasted Jenova's blood with Fira after Fira.

It burned a rather pretty purple-lilac close to the ground, but it quickly turned into a thick black smoke that at least didn't smell. After that, it didn't take much force to keep the crowds away, but Aerith used a weak Aero cast to force the smoke up and out to sea. She made it twirl a little, so it looked less like the final end of an ugly man and more like hope rising into the sky.

Unsurprisingly, the crowd had thinned a lot by the time they were satisfied they'd got it all.

"Well, that's done!" she said, slapping her hands together. "We'll just continue on our way..."

Turned out, Wolcomb hadn't forgotten the phone call from … Probably Rude. Rude had the scarier voice; Reno just swore a lot – and sounded slightly sleazy, if she was honest.

Anyway, Force Sergeant Wolcomb pulled some of his team away from shovelling up the ash and escorted them all to the mansion's upper door.

"This really isn't necessary," she tried.

Genesis also gave her an incredulous look, but it really wasn't necessary. She was an adult, fully capable of heading back to the mansion when she was ready. It's not like the Turks would actually do anything to the force sergeant.

She was still trying to explain that to him when he gently pushed her through the door. "Lock it, please," he said to Genesis, as if the Genesis was the sensible one.

Frustrated, she stopped at the door. Three more hours until the Turks got here. An unknown number of hours before Zack and Cloud came back.

"They'll be okay," Tifa said.

"I know they will," she replied. "I was just thinking about how I'm going to clean The Calamity out of Zack and everyone." It wasn't entirely a lie.

"You make it sound like doing the laundry," Tifa snorted. "Gotta get that dirt out!" – a line from ads for Shinra cleaning products. The fighter even included the fist pump that everyone mocked, as if cleaning was a privilege and not a chore.

"It's not going to be that easy, you know that right?" Tifa said it gently, to soften the blow.

"Why not?" Genesis said before Aerith could.

Tifa looked at him. "Well, because… It's not laundry."

Genesis dipped his head. "Technically correct," he agreed, and Aerith's stomach plunged. "It's magic, not laundry." He lifted a hand and flames danced over his fingertips. "And is therefore much less predictable."

"Magic is predictable," Tifa argued.

"Is it?" Genesis sneered.

"Yes, because we know how it works."

"Do we?" The flames rippled across his knuckles. "Out of all the healthy young men who've been through Shinra's hands, only Zackary Fair of tiny, backwoods Gongaga, made it to SOLDIER First. A proper SOLDIER First," he emphasised. "On same level as Angeal and myself." He let the flames go out. "If it was so predictable, you'd think there would be dozens of SOLDIERs who could fight me to a standstill instead of it taking dozens to even make me sweat a little."

Tifa crossed her arms and glared at the redhead. "There are dozens of Firsts. They fought in Wutai–"

Genesis was already shaking his head. "They were called Firsts, because nobody had yet seen what we could do – Sephiroth, Angeal and myself. Once we entered the battlefield, Shinra retired most of the original Firsts." He tipped his head, resting his chin in his hand. "Or we were told they'd retired. Hmm…." A quick wave and a shrug. "A question for later. Those men would be considered merely Seconds now."

"So, Zack really is the only one to make it to First?"

"And still be sane and alive, yes," Genesis confirmed. "The three of us were constructed from before birth to be SOLDIERs. When Zackary also excelled, they looked at his history and saw that there was a leak in the Gongaga reactor when he was a child. Shinra probably decided that was the key."

"But he wasn't exposed to mako in Gongaga." Aerith knew because Zack had talked of it. How some of the other villagers had gotten sick but their house had been far enough away and neither of his parents had worked at the reactor.

Genesis shrugged. "I doubt they asked him."

"It's what Cloud said, though, right?" Tifa said. "He said his last squad had been made up of troopers who'd been exposed as kids and then Hojo dumped that contaminated stuff on them."

Aerith could admit, it was a logical theory. Gross and disgusting, because none of Cloud's squad had consented, but logical. It made her feel icky, and also like she wanted to go find her friend right now and give him a hug.

She turned on the exterior camera only to see two poor troopers standing on the other side, fully exposed to the hot afternoon sun. Unpleasant for them; annoying for her.

Since she was stuck here for now, Aerith decided she wanted one of those canned fruit alcohol drinks from the fridge. She moved towards the very well-stocked kitchen. "So magic," she said. "It doesn't have to make sense."

Genesis followed, as she'd known he would – he loved talking about magic and materia. "It is a matter of will and imagination, more than logic. You envision what you want to happen and if you have the ability and power, it happens. Materia just makes it easier for someone with lesser abilities to tap into their power."

Tifa snorted. "Shield materia won't let you cast Fira."

"True," he conceded. "But Fire materia doesn't let you do this either–" Flames shot up from his fingers half a metre before flickering down, back into his body. "Unless you have the vision and the will."

Aerith considered what he'd said and figured she'd seen examples of it already. After all, Elmyra used Ice in their cold box, and Cloud used a low-level Fire to heat his water. Those weren't the materias intended uses, but the results were easy for anyone to imagine, and useful enough so they'd want to make the magic work. Even Genesis's trick with his blade was easy to picture.

She looked at the Pear Popper Sparkling Cider she'd pulled out of the fridge. It could be colder, she thought. She had an Ice materia equipped and she could imagine how it could work…. A light link to her Ice materia and an even lighter cast, and the can frosted over.

She held it out to Genesis. "Exactly," he purred.

The face he made when he took a sip was hilarious.

To prove it wasn't a fluke, Aerith took out another one. Tifa waved it away, going for the filtered tap water instead, so Aerith took it for herself. It fizzed and popped as promised. She took a drink. It was weird, but it was also definitely cold! She took another sip, letting the bubbles bounce in her mouth. It was a little sweet, but she'd never had a pear so maybe this was what they tasted like?

"I don't like the idea of burning Jenova out of Zack," she said. "Too many ways that could go very wrong."

"Then don't use that approach," Genesis shrugged "What magic is most comfortable for you?"

"Healing," she replied automatically. "But I already tried that."

Genesis hummed, frowning at his Popping Pear.

"What about your flowers?" Tifa asked. "You had to have done something to the soil to let all those plants grow, so that's a type of healing, right?"

Odd; she'd been thinking about her flowers earlier. "I'm not covering him in compost."

Genesis snorted. "He's from a swamp. I'm sure he's more than familiar with rot."

"That's hardly polite," Tifa said. "It's hardly helpful," Aerith corrected. Genesis rolled his eyes.

She took another drink. The taste didn't get any better, but the sensation was fun.

"Speaking of swamps," Tifa said putting her glass into the sink. "Time to stop feeling like one."

Her departure was followed by Genesis's, until Aerith was alone in the kitchen with her cold empty can and Genesis's mostly full one. She stared at his abandoned fizzy drink. Where did magic take over from science? Did it matter as long as she knew what she wanted to happen?

Magic didn't need to make sense, she mused. Fire couldn't make Shield, but Fire was related to temperature…

She touched a light finger to Genesis's can; made a connection to her Fire materia, but instead of forcing heat into the liquid, she pulled it away.

She waved her arm to disperse the heat from the orb in her bracer.

When she picked up the can, it was heavy – solid ice.

There was a skip in her step as she headed up to the room she shared with Zack. Ideas bounced around in her brain as she prepared for her own shower. She paused, dress in hand: it was dirty, sweaty, covered in sand and fluids from Hojo's corrupt forms. She didn't actually want it to touch any of her other stuff. "Gotta get that dirt out," she muttered.

She ran to bag and dug through it until she found her Cleanse materia.

Sure, she'd tried this before, but she had a better understanding this time. The Calamity wasn't a poison, but it was poisonous, and she knew what it felt like.

Holding the orb in her hand, she pictured Esuna moving through the cloth and cleansing any J‑cells. 'Remove this,' she thought hard, 'anything that feels like this.' Light green sparkles surrounded her dress.

She held the cast for as long as she could. Then a spike of pain running up her arm to her eyes broke her concentration. Blinking away the blur in her vision, forcing her stomach back down, Aerith looked at the fabric. Had it worked?

She held her breath, ignoring the thrum of headache, pulling the fabric this way and that…

No. Not really.

It hadn't even cleaned out any of the regular dirt.

Aerith let out her breath with a puff of disappointment. "Pooh."

Tossing the garment back in the corner they'd designated for dirty clothes, Aerith cast a quick Cura on herself. Shinra Mansion had gorgeous facilities and oodles of hot water and she wasn't letting a headache ruin it for her! Time to put it all to one side.

Shinra's bathing room had both a shower stall and a small pond of a bathtub. The idea of soaking in clean water was tantalizing, but not what Aerith wanted. Maybe after she'd rinsed off all traces of Hojonova so she wouldn't be sitting in dirty water.

Stepping onto the slightly rough tiles of the shower area Aerith turned on aaaalll the jets. She emptied her mind of as many of her worries as she could: Zack would be fine; Cloud was good; Reno and Rude would come later; Jenova and Sephiroth would be much later… There was only the heat and the spray and the smell of Shinra's fancy soap.

Just breathe…

It was impossible to hear the Planet talking to her here, but that was okay too. The Planet was vast and generally indifferent to the tiny creatures that lived on it. Aerith didn't need to feel any more helpless right now.

In… two, three… Out… two, three…

When her shoulders were back down at shoulder height and not up around her ears it was time to actually clean herself off. She removed the ribbon that Zack loved to see on her, rinsing it out under the spray, checking it for any unwanted purple spots. Then she carefully untied the cord that kept Holy hidden in her hair. It was silly – she didn't need to hide the odd materia from the others – but after so many years, not having it in her hair felt strange and uncomfortable.

She ran a gentle fingers over its surface. "Thanks, Mum," she whispered as she always did. She looked at the gently moving white swirls, hoping as she always did, that it would talk to her – tell her what its purpose was, what it could do. Why had her mother kept it through everything that had happened to them? Why had she pressed it into Aerith's hand as if it was a precious gift?

All materia was born from the Planet. They were chunks of the Lifestream given physical form, and because they were the Lifestream, they had preferences – things they were better at. Maybe angry emotions turned into Fire or Lightning materia, and comforting ones became Heal? But why were attack materia green not red which was the colour most everyone associated with anger.

And then there was her mother's Holy. Why was it white? Why was it blank?

Maybe it wasn't blank, she thought. Maybe it was waiting for her to have the imagination and the will…

She wanted to be clean inside and out. All her blood and cells and organs and everything healed and refreshed. With that thought as her focus, she lifted the orb to her forehead and imagined magic soap bubbles running through her, like the Popping Pear fizzling against her tongue but with purpose (and less sugar).

Aerith kept her eyes closed, concentrating on the feelings in her body, but it was hard to know if anything was happening. There were six showerheads all pelting her body with droplets of water. The smell of the soap, which had been pleasant before, was a bit overpowering now. She sneezed ending her focus.

Did she feel better?

Maybe? Like she'd had a good nap.

Huh. That had… possibilities.

She didn't bother turning off the water or grabbing a towel. She just jogged back into the bedroom, dripping water on the carpet, to pick up her dirty dress. She held it in one hand and gripped Holy in the other. How to get the power from Holy into the dress? It wasn't like she could imagine herself as a thread of cotton…

Well, she could, but not realistically enough to make this work.

Something other than willpower was needed to carry the magic into the cloth.

Liquid, she thought as she watched water drops soak into the fabric. Like the drink and its fizz and its flavour, liquids could be manipulated.

Aerith spared a thought to be grateful for the rough tiles on the bathroom's floor: she would've slid right into a wall without it. She tossed the dress to the bottom of the stall and turned off all the showerheads except one. Angling herself so she could hold Holy in the spray without disturbing it too much, Aerith closed her eyes and pictured what she wanted.

She imagined the water flowing over Holy, picking up the magic like Genesis's rapier picked up his Fire. Flowing with the water down into the dress and into the fabric, into the fibres that made up the fabric, and into the cells that made the fibres.

Her awareness flowed with the water. She could sense the unnatural J-cells clinging, contaminating – or trying. They were isolated, small and powerless.

'This,' she prayed, 'Clean this out, break it up, neutralize it so that it can't harm anyone ever again.'

She pictured the cells, purple tentacles trying to cling where they didn't belong, and she pictured the power of Holy – the power of the Cetra – imbuing the fabric with something like Barrier, leaving The Calamity's remnants nothing to cling to. The alien cells were pulled into the water that was also imbued with her will. It fizzed and popped like tiny bullets tearing the cells into smaller and smaller bits until, with flares of white, they were destroyed.

At first, Aerith pictured every step. She directed every path. But eventually, she didn't need to do that anymore. She had to focus, but she didn't need to concentrate. It was enough that she knew what she wanted because Holy knew it too. She could just let the materia do what needed to be done.

It was remarkably peaceful once she got the hang of it.

She kept her focus until she was sure all the J‑cells had been destroyed. A breath to bring her back to herself – out of the cloth, out of the water, out of Holy – and she realized the water was kind of cold now. How long had it been? No matter: it had worked!

She wanted to jump up and shout for joy, which was when Aerith realized she was kneeling on the shower floor. How long had it been?

Who cared? It had worked

She ran soft fingers over Holy, so grateful that she could barely form words. "Thanks, Mum," she whispered. "Thank you sooo much." Her breath caught. Her eyes hurt. She clasped the materia to her breast and cried.

She could save Zack and Cloud, and maybe poor Kriffin Conway and all those other SOLDIERs who hadn't asked to be turned into aliens.

It had worked.

.o0|0o.

Reeve looked at the huge cavern that had been carved under Midgar and knew it was only a matter of time. He didn't need precise measurements (though he had many), and he didn't need a fancy engineering degree (though he had that too). Midgar, as it had existed for barely 30 years, was finished.

The Midgar plate was approximately 600 square kilometres raised 300 metres in the air. It was built of SMRC (Steel- and Mako-Reinforced Cement), which was the strongest and lightest construction material ever developed. The eight mako reactors helped balance the load carried by the central structure, but even with all that, the central tower – with the Shinra skyscraper and the rail lines to lower Midgar weighed nearly 100,000 tonnes.

The tower's original support pylons formed the outer edge of the lab's hollowed-out core. It meant only half of each pylon's structure was surrounded by natural stone, and that meant the support they provided to the central tower was severely compromised.

It filled Reeve with fury.

Whoever approved this had to have known it would undermine the plate's stability and longevity – and they hadn't cared!

Hundreds of thousands of people lived on the plate. They worked there; they had children and built their lives there. They'd trusted Shinra with their lives – and Shinra hadn't cared.

It made Reeve feel tired.

He'd known (of course, he'd known) that Shinra's executives all had their own priorities, and those priorities rarely included any complex maintenance of the plate. He'd thought their objections were based on selfishness (the repairs and upgrades Reeve had espoused would've pulled funding from their projects) but seeing this… this travesty, Reeve knew it was because the others had already known Midgar was doomed.

And he was angry again.

Roman Shinra was gone, and Reeve could no longer feel any regret about that. (Not that he'd felt a lot, except as one human being to another.) Had his son known? Had Rufus Shinra been part of the decision to do something so … criminal?

Did it matter?

All the others had gone to Junon to fawn over the new president. (Rats fleeing the literally sinking ship.) Heidegger had even laughed at him – because Reeve was losing his chance to ingratiate himself with Rufus, but maybe Heidegger had laughed because he'd known there was no saving Midgar? Scarlet had blown him a kiss, practically the first time she'd acknowledged his existence that year.

Sure, they'd left Reeve here to assess the damage, but they'd also left him in complete control of Shinra's response. A decision they might eventually regret.

Shinra Security Forces were currently arranging the city's evacuation. Announcements had gone out, and doors were being knocked on. Businesses and individuals were being encouraged to leave sooner rather than later – and they were being told why.

He was working with sector leaders from on and below the plate to get their citizens and businesses shifted to safer areas. Long lines of busses and trucks were shifting people and their possessions to temporary shelters in Healin, Kalm, (and he had a squad of SOLDIER Second and Thirds to deal with the creatures that were still crawling out of Shinra's labs).

Yes, he sent reports to Rufus (and the board), but they didn't question what he was doing because it was within his budget and that's all they cared about.

However, it was within his budget because he'd found Hojo's secret accounts almost immediately. He'd divulged some of them to Tseng – the most obvious ones, the ones the Turks would've found anyway. He was fairly sure Tseng had moved those funds back into Shinra, but from the transaction trails, not back into the company's general accounts. Reeve didn't know what to think about that. Maybe they were now funding Rufus's secret projects, or maybe Tseng had kept the money for himself and all his "missing" Turks? Or maybe there was some other reason Reeve couldn't discern. No matter the cause of Tseng's duplicity, Reeve took it as tacit approval to use the rest of the funds as he saw fit.

It was a lot of money. Enough to have finished building Sector 6, or to have completed all the repairs he'd asked for over the last two years!

Reeve could do many, many good, non-Shinra related things with that money, and he was increasingly tempted to do so.

"Sir!" The trooper locked his body into a rigid line as if reporting to his superior officer. They all did it, and Reeve had given up trying to get them to stop. "Yes?"

"We found these." The trooper held out a box filled with papers and data storage tapes. "They're, um, technical."

Reeve suppressed his sigh. They'd stopped bringing him time sheets and supply orders, but anything slightly "scientifical" (as the force sergeant had called it) was brought to him for review. He'd read enough notes on Hojo's experiments to know that he didn't want to read any more. Forget what he'd done to Terra's native fauna, what Hojo had done to his fellow human beings – with and without their consent – would've been criminal if he hadn't worked for Shinra. (Reeve had a separate file he was hoping he could use to persuade Rufus Shinra to actually prosecute the madman.)

He took the box. "Thank you. Carry on."

He put it on the cart that he was using as a mobile office, and as he did a formula caught his eye. It wasn't a biochemical formula, or at least, it wasn't one he recognized from Hojo's other work. It looked like a calculation of mako energy conversion rates… Which could be important, as they'd already had to power down one of the reactors due to instability.

Reeve flipped through the rest of the paper, stopping to read certain sections more closely. Then he stopped completely. Metal creaked, gunfire echoed from some distant fight, and something screamed in protest. Reeve ignored all of it, running the numbers in his brain, working in everything he knew or had learned since this disaster started. It all coalesced into one solid conclusion: mako energy was ruining the earth.

Every reactor extracting and refining mako developed a dead zone. It was inevitable. It was quantifiable. All flora withered and died. Fauna either migrated or mutated at a rate that was clearly linked. Shinra had known about it – and they hadn't cared.

In fact, they'd outright lied about it. For years.

Now Reeve was beyond furious, beyond exhausted. Now he was done.

Shinra had to be stopped and he had to help make that happen. He'd heard of a young man in Sector 7 under the plate – the area hardest hit by this disaster. A selfless young man who just might be connected to an anti-Shinra group.

Perhaps it was time to meet the famous "Wedge" in person.


AN: I am not an engineer. I have no idea how much the Midgar plate would weigh, but, but MAGIC!(jazz hands) It doesn't have to make sense. (It's in metric if that helps?)

Also, thank you all for your patience. 3