Smoke on the horizon.
"We have to keep moving."
"What -?" Zack's gaze follows Cloud's, his eyes narrowing in realization. "Ah, shit."
They're being followed. Or, more correctly, they've been found.
Returning to civilization is no longer an option. By the third day of escape, the days of campfires and semi-friendly conversation are behind them. This is survival. Moving in silence and speed, keeping to the shadows, watching and listening as Shinra - Hojo's - men circle round them. The enemy comes close, but never quite close enough. Cloud and Zack just manage to slip past them.
It won't continue for long, though. Cloud knows well enough. The kid is tiring, and as a human, he has needs that aren't being met. Cloud - however, he is fine.
"You aren't fine." Zack, huffing and half leaning over, insists. They'd been discussing how to meet the man's physical needs, only for the brunette to interrupt. "You need food too!"
"I do not eat." Cloud insists, which results in a wry laugh, tired and ornery, from the other.
"Then explain how you've become so much slower lately. And I know your as dizzy as I am, I saw you trip yesterday."
It's true... he hates to admit it but it is. Has Hojo done something to him? Weakened his resistance, his endurance? For what possible reason? Frowning, the blonde gives a slow nod.
"Perhaps... but it does not matter. At the moment, we haven't the luxury of rest."
"It's not gonna be a luxury soon." Zack insists, stumbling over. Just then, voices come over the ridge. The conversation is forgotten, as both military men take to the shadows, convering solely with eyes and body movements.
Hours later, much further away, Zack asks Cloud about it. "You former military?" He asks with a huff, out of breath. "Sure act like it."
He murmurs in acknowledgement. At Zack's insistent stare, the man sighs. "Former Shinra."
"What branch?"
For a moment, he hesitates. Finally, Cloud says, "Turk."
That manages to shock the boy into an hour's blessed silence.
He's no longer sure where they are. Days ago, he could read the signs, feel the air, notice the scenery and give a general idea. Now? His senses are deteriorating. It's a deserted wasteland, somewhere on the continent, and Cloud hasn't a clue.
They are running out of time.
Both of them are weakening, and with no plan on how to escape and the enemy closing in, it's only a matter of time. Last minute efforts and final plans race through Cloud's head. At least, the boy should live.
But he's run out of ammo, and as he is now, Cloud doubts he has the strength to transform. He can't even feel that power within him... had Hojo done something? So much feels changed since those days... Cloud hadn't admitted it to Zack, but ever since, he does not feel like himself.
It doesn't matter. If they don't find a way out of this mess, none of it will matter soon.
They take him by surprise.
Cloud is utterly ashamed; that's all he can think as blood and bile erupt from his throat. A storm of bullets across his chest, knees collapsing beneath him, vision blurring...
He was never this weak before, this human. What... had Hojo done...?
( stop it stop it make it all stop )
There's a voice in his head, a voice crying, and if he thinks hard on it, Cloud realizes it has been there since the escape. He is used to voices. There have been the demons, the ghosts of his past... so many voices. This one is new. It is no one he recognizes.
"Cloud!" Zack is fighting still, sword in hand, and Cloud hears the echo of bulletfire, the clash of steel, as he struggles to rise onto his elbows. The movement sends searing pain through him and more blood bursts from his mouth. "Stay down okay! Stay down!"
He can do nothing else. Gasping for breath, he presses on the wounds, feeling them healing already, pressing the bullets free. But not fast enough. He's too weak... famished and tired... his body just won't heal enough.
Cloud manages to flip over, to turn enough to see the clash behind him. Gods... his eyes widen. There's so many. Hojo must've emptied his lab of guards and hired guns. Why? What did an old failed experiment and one SOLDIER matter so?
Perhaps it was simply an old grudge, still held against him... bitter regret rises up his throat with the blood. This is his fault then. His sin. I'm so sorry Zack.
His vision begins to darken and fade, for a moment - and when it clears, all he can see is red.
It's not blood. It's cloth. A long fluttering cape, which flurs and swishes as the man wearing it moves. One moment, he stands in front of Cloud, the next his gun is taking down soldier after soldier with practiced ease. There are others, he can hear new voices, new weapons entering the fray... but his gaze won't leave this one man.
(see? don't you remember)
His consciousness flutters, in and out. Gasping for breath. Everything is pain and thirst and hunger and he stares at this man who is a question he doesn't want answered.
(just admit it)
But he can't. No because the answer is worse than any pain he could ever feel, worse than any wound
(because that would mean you left her behind)
and he succumbs to unconsciousness.
Vincent hasn't left Cloud's side since they found him.
It makes Cid a little jealous, to be honest - and then, mad because he shouldn't be. Then again, it's not like he's jealous of the man's role, of his life, cause damn that would be petty. No, its the fact that he's the captain of the ship and they need him here at the helm, and since he's here he can't be there.
With Cloud.
My...
He's not sure its his place, anyway. The kid's not his. A blood connection doesn't mean ownership, or belonging. They barely know each other. Talked maybe a handful of times. His mother...
A new sharp pain hits his gut at the thought.
They don't know what's become of Jean Strife. Zack hadn't found her in the lab, and while he'd said Cloud had said she was dead, Zack had also admitted Cloud had been far from himself lately.
He'd been in Hojo's personal care for four days. Four days. Days of nonstop "research", experimenting, torture, and who knew what else...
It's no wonder the boy snapped under it all. Especially if something had really happened to his mother.
Cid feels bitter, just thinking about it. It's a selfish thought, that she and her - their - son had reentered his life, only for her to go and die and leave before he could see her again and ask her all these things rumbling around in his mind driving him nuts. Like it was her final prank on him. But obviously the woman never planned this, never wanted this, and if she really is gone...
Sighing, Cid steps away. He's practically useless as is, so he shouts a few directions and steps away from his post. They can manage without for a handful of hours.
Without thought, without direction, his feet take him to the hospital wing. He hesitates in the hallway, tired half lidded eyes glancing through the window. There he is - where he's been since Cloud was found.
They almost didn't find him. The blood trail dried up, the scent gone, and Vincent had been no closer to pinpointing their location without it. They'd been stuck, forced to basically guess at what base Hojo might've used, at where he might have a hidden one located, at what he might have done...
Until Sephiroth.
It had been Sephiroth, three days into their disappearance, who had had a breakthrough, one that was a great relief and utterly terrifying at the same time.
"I can sense him," He'd said. Clearly upset and unsure how to feel himself, the man had looked almost green in the face. "I - feel where he is."
They'd chase that feeling across the continent, until sure enough, they found Zack and Cloud facing down Shinra's men in the deserts outside Golden Saucer. Where they'd been or how they got there, the exhausted and ill men were unsure - Cloud, most of all.
He hadn't recognized a one of them.
Cid slumps against the glass wall, cursing the Gods and Shinra and all the fucked up shit in his life. He has a kid. A kid with amnesia caused by fucking trauma at the hands of one fucked up piece of shit excuse for a scientist.
There's not much Cid can do at this point about it. Save one thing. Save the thing he was brought in to do in the first place: kick Hojo's ass to the moon and back. He'd been reluctant about the whole thing at first, at rejoining Shinra even in pretense...
Now?
Now, Hojo had better watch his damn back. Highwind's coming.
There's a gold spark in his mind.
It was a distant, soft light at first. Like a faraway star. It had a taste, a depth, a - sensation of feeling, despite being made of nothing. Less than air. And he could follow it, feel it in the earth, and the closer they got, the larger, more powerful it was, until it rivaled the very sun in his mind.
All Sephiroth wants is to soak that damn light in, but he restrains himself.
He knows that this strange development is undoubtedly Hojo's doing. That makes him suspicious immediately. Hojo has no good or well meaning reasons for anything he does. Whatever this connection created between himself and Cloud... it can only be for ill.
Sephiroth wonders, a little, what it feels like from the other side. If Cloud can sense him as well, is as drawn to him as he is to the blonde. And he wonders if it feels as... good. Like being complete. Broken pieces made whole. That makes him doubly suspicious, that this actually feels pleasurable, instead of painful, is clearly a sign that the whole thing is some trap Hojo's designed for one reason or another.
Sighing, Sephiroth shakes his head, and gives in to the desire. He does at least want to see how the man is doing. They've only known one another for a short while, but... he can admit to being invested in the other. In being - concerned. He... has few friends. Sephiroth would like to think he might one day count Cloud among them.
He's - fascinating. Powerful, smart, decent, warm hearted and compassionate. Sephiroth has known plenty of powerful and intelligent people, but few who also cared, were selfless and giving of themselves. Most of those people died or disappeared.
The fact that Cloud almost did the same is part of what drives Sephiroth to his bedside.
It's occupied, of course. The gunman, his - Mr. Valentine. Sephiroth clears his throat, realizing he may be unwanted, and moves to apologize before leaving.
"Stay," A deep, rumbling baritone bids him. Sephiroth hesistates, almost fidgeting, before giving a light sigh and stepping into the room. He sits across from the man, at the other chair.
It's not comfortable. Sephiroth is a large man, almost 6'4", and extremely muscular. He knows a lot of that is his enhancements and training, though apparently the height is genetic. Valentine is about 6'4" himself. But he's lithe and slender, so skinny he looks malnourished, with long thin limbs. He's clearly strong and muscular, but in a discrete way. Much less boorish than himself, Sephiroth thinks with a frown.
Still, he sits, the chair giving an unsettling groan as he does. Then a creak. Even Vincent cocks an eyebrow, a little concerned. Sephiroth ignores it.
"How is he?"
The man's eyes drop. "He is not himself." Concern is clear in his eyes, as well as... fear. Absolute terror. Clearly Valentine is shaken himself, and Sephiroth can see why - the boy he's fostered and cared for was taken by his mortal enemy and tortured. Anyone would be upset.
Realizing that, Sephiroth realizes he should also probably say something of it. "This is not your fault."
Vincent scowls and his gaze darkens. "It is undoubtedly my fault."
"That is incorrect." Sephiroth insists. "Hojo made his own choices. As did Cloud, as did we all. He knew the risks. He felt the battle was worth fighting."
"He knew nothing." Vincent spits. "Nothing of the horror of - this, not before," The man is shaking, a hand covering his face. "I failed him. I failed you both. I fail everyone... another sin..."
Failed... both?
Sephiroth falters, unable to speak for a moment. "You have clearly suffered much, and yet, you are still here. Cloud is as resilient as you, if not more so. He will come back to us."
He doesn't really know what else to say. There's so much he wants to say - but doesn't know how. So he simply stands, and moves swiftly, trying not to look like he's running away. The tears start falling down Vincent's face before Sephiroth even leaves the room.
He remembers... remembers the parents who died...
(no... i just never had a dad.)
Remembers... the scientist
(her face... i don't remember a face...)
Remembers... the monster who did this to him...
(i remember his face, because i saw him, i really knew him)
Remembers... his name...
(but what about his name? That's more important isn't it?)
Remembers... his mother...
(my mom... she... she was... )
"Cloud?"
Opens his eyes. They hurt. Bitter, crusty, sharp pain. Grunts to clear his throat. Everything is a wound, open and bleeding. The red eyed man is in front of him, he knows him, he knows -
(a basement a dream wasn't it or was it a )
"Are you alright?"
His gaze narrows, he scans the perimeter quickly, reaches for his gun. He... he sees the man, fully, for the first time. There's a claw on his arm.
"Another of Hojo's creations?" He asks, voice gruff and sore.
The man's gaze drifts to the gold claw. "Cloud... do you remember me?"
Another stranger claiming to be a friend? He almost laughs. Pain runs up his chest. "That claw. You received it from Hojo, didn't you?"
The stranger hesitates. "... yes. I told you that long ago."
No he didn't. They've never met before.
"Cloud..." Sighing, the man moves slightly closer. Cloud tenses. "I know - better than anyone - what you've been through. And I've... done many things trying to escape it, to cope with it. But you cannot remain this way. The danger is over, you must return to yourself."
"Cease speaking as if you know me."
The man's gaze narrows. "Your speech pattern... even that is different."
Annoyed, Cloud moves to sit up, and when the man reaches to touch him, he strikes. Takes his arm and presses the elbow straight, moves to pin it behind his back - the stranger breaks the grip. Breaks it the only way he can, by letting his own elbow snap, fighting back against the blonde's arms.
Shocked, Cloud is taken off guard when two strong arms wrap around him. He struggles expecting an attack, expecting to be throttled, hurt, something -
"Cloud. Cloud!" The man pulls himself closer - hugs him. Holds him tight, firmly, even as he fights, even as he struggles. "Please. You're safe now. Please, come back."
He screams - fights for all he's worth, fights and kicks and curses until he cries. The man won't let go. Even with an elbow popped out of place, inhumane strength keeps Cloud bound, as the man speaks over his screams.
"I'm so sorry, so sorry -"
"SHUT UP! LET ME GO!"
"Cloud, please forgive me, please come back -"
He screams, and screams, blood escaping his wounds again. Vincent won't let go - why won't he just let go?
(his name you know his name, see?)
"When you were younger..." The man, he sounds so emotional, so bitter and broken, tears falling down his own face. "When you were a child, nothing felt worse than knowing you were in pain and that I could not help. The isolation, being trapped down there... it never hurt until I could hear you crying for help and I couldn't answer. Knowing others were hurting you, and I couldn't stop them..."
"I was useless, worse than that, until you set me free. I owed you such a debt - and I swore then that I would never let your cries go unanswered. Never again. I will be there to protect you, Cloud I swear it."
"STOP! STOP IT! LET - ME - ughh hhuh - me - hack -"
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't find you sooner, that I did not stop him, but I swear, I will always come for you. I will always protect you. You're safe."
Gasping for breath. Gasping, and shattered, and shivering in Vincent's arms. It's long minutes before he can do anything but shake. He's wounded, broken, and utterly spent.
"I think..." Cloud mutters tiredly. "I think you did save me." Vincent's gaze, weary and red from crying, meets Cloud's. "Down there. He kept taunting me, and h - hurting me... and I... god I just wanted it to stop. I wasn't strong enough. But I think - I convinced myself I was you. Because you were strong enough. Y - you always amazed me, that you'd survived so much, for so long - and I think, I tried to borrow that strength from you."
"It's yours to have." Vincent murmurs. "Always."