Thesis 3: Find the Words to Make Me Better
Helena drew her knees closer to her chest, feeling the pelting of scalding water on her head and back. Her aching back eased into the warmth, the burning. She mulled in her head, over and over again, how she found herself here, occasionally trying to drown herself in the water that trickled across her face. Did she think it would be easiest if she just ended… No. That was a thought best left behind. It once served its purpose; now she needed to think of her next move.
Hojo contacted her manager. Helena had access to her emails after her manager wanted her to practice writing corporate emails, scolding her for her inability to communicate effectively with her superiors. Helena was so embarrassed but now knew the utility. She wrote went off last night, but it was a fluke issue that was handled immediately. We await further instructions. Safe was impressed she kept it together long enough to type the last period and send it without so much as a second thought. But she knew she would need to be on the to be on the move. Helena nearly choked on the water filling her nose.
Helena decided it was enough and turned off the water. She felt sufficiently clean from her extraneous exercise; her calves and back were incredibly sore. She pulled herself from the bottom of the clawfoot tub and pulled the curtain aside. The room was filled with steam—stifling and all-encompassing. She wrapped her towel around her body, the towel barely making it across her body. She opened the door to find Sephiroth awake. She didn't have a moment to register that he was now dressed in some old joggers Helena had that she left on his bedside and knew would fit. She also didn't register the empty stare aimed at her neck. She was propelled backward, his hand cupping her throat. It was freakishly harsh and cool to the touch.
With one hand desperately holding onto her towel and the other pushing at his sternocostal head, she asked, "What are you…?"
"What did you tell Shinra?"
"I told them nothing."
"You make one bad decision after another, don't you?" His chest heaved against her palm. She pushed deeper, feeling his heartbeat—steady, unfaltering, and distant.
In response, he pushed at her throat, causing her to gag suddenly—the water maybe? "You'll need to trust me," the air hissed out the corners of her mouth.
"What a sad, foolish person you are. Why bury them?" He let the pressure subside to hear her, but he still kept her at arm's length.
"They deserved better than my mistake," Helena answered as honestly as she could—funny that he deserved at least her honesty.
"Your guilt is abundant—I can feel you caving in. You want me to suffocate you."
Helena smirked. "You're thinking too highly of yourself, Number 2."
The Clone backed away. "Thisisall your fault. Their mutilated corpses lay in that shallow grave… Their blood is on your hands." He held up her wrists to her face, exposing the blood that had coagulated under her nails—chipped and short.
Helena looked away, ashamed. The Clone tilted her chin, their eyes meeting. "They will never forgive you. I'll never forgive you. I suggest learning to live with that knowledge."
Helena watched as the Clone closed the door; the stifling air somewhat dissipated, and he collapsed to the ground, shaking uncontrollably. He… hisoriginalchoked her before, but it had never been malicious… This was cold and calculated, with the intent to snuff out the last molecule of air. She felt for the pressure on her neck and pushed, trying to match his pressure before folding in terror. "What have I done?" She didn't, nor probably would ever, know how to answer that question.
After Helena gathered her nerve to dress, she met the Clone in the dining hall. He found one of her Metropolitan University sweaters and was wearing it to mock her. She grimaced at the thought that he was looking through her belongings. He felt so self-assured, so vindicated. He deserved her shame and guilt. He deserved that mass shallow grave filled with three poor saps.
"Number 2—" Helena commanded his attention but thought better of it and stopped midway.
"Are you going to say something, Ms. Menninger? Or will you just stand there like the fool you are?"
"What should I call you?""I want to hear you call me by my name."
"If you're asking if I am him, then the answer is plain: no—you know that. But I hold his memories, his personality; his physique I own… Justbetter." His lips curled into a facsimile of a smile. "Call me what you want."
"I'd prefer if we left the past in the past, and that I call you by what you are now: a number." Helena gained the nerve, the gall, but it was quickly dashed when he stood from the table.
"I don't think you're in any position to make such emboldened claims,Helena. Not even given a number. That must really kill you inside."
"You're disgusting. A sham! A fake!" Helena screamed and was quickly silenced when the Clone grabbed her chin, locking her jaw in place.
"I'd prefer it if you kept quiet. Or should I give you a reason to scream?"
Helena attempted to pull away, but he caught her again and tore her face forward in his line of sight. "I still have his memories." He pulled her hand across his hip, "And his body."
"How fucking dare you," Helena's jaw clicked as she spewed venom. He wasnothim… Was he?
The Clone let her go and returned to his seat at the head of the table, a cup of black coffee sitting on a coaster. How surreal all of this was. She was so certain it would have been better if he had killed her that night, but then realized why he didn't. "You need me," she said, garnering his lips to tighten.
"I would say you need me as well, Ms. Menninger."
Helena packed the company car, a small truck. She left Number 2 to pack food. He didn't ask, but Helena offered her plan. "We're going north. Shinra's rejects go there to die. We'll figure out our next plan from there." Helena continued when she saw little interest from the Clone, "My sister had a cabin close to the mountain, farther north from Icicle." Even in death, Kathelyn was useful to Helena.
Helena noticed that the Clone had not exited the mansion. She went after him, feet stomping up the bricked walkway. She could hear a softened melody, so she softened her steps, enticed to hear more, see more. The Clone was sitting before the grand piano, back tight and unmoved by the powerful strokes of the keys. He was dressed in a smart button-up and slacks he found in one of the scientist's things. She smiled to herself, thinking:I never realized how tall my colleagues were.
The Clone stopped, measuring her. "Don't stop on my accord," Helena invited for him to continue with a gentle display of her hand. "Please."
"I've found very little in your cupboards," the Clone stood from the piano, much to Helena's dismay.
"That's fine. We're making a stop on our way. It won't be much of a distance from there to the ferry north."
The Clone's face contorted in a flash, briefly displaying his disgust for Helena's inability to keep them safe. Helena was so unsure of herself in every area of her life, but this? She felt so sure… It frightened her. "We'll be fine. Just… Let's get in the car before Hojo returns."
The Clone vied for control, turning to the piano and lowering the fallboard gently. Helena had worked with children before; she knew his game. "You're going to have to trust me, Number 2."
The Clone grabbed her by the wrists, studying her hands for cleanliness. "Much better." And he passed her like a cool breeze, soft tendrils dancing around her shoulders.
The Clone sat in the driver's seat. Helena, huffing in the passenger seat, asked, "Can you even drive?"
"You think I can't? I'm surprised how shallow your knowledge is. Never ceasing." He turned on the engine and rolled down his window, letting in the summer heat.
"Just drive. I'll tell you where we're going."
Mother:Hey sweetie!
Mother:Just wanted to check in.
Mother:Got flowers for Kathelyn.
Mother: (picture attached)
Mother:Hey! Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday!
Mother:Worried you're not answering, sweetheart. Let me know when you're coming back to Midgar. We can meet up for coffee! I love you.
Me:…
Helena held her phone close to her chest when the Clone looked over. "Don't be an idiot, Ms. Menninger," he hissed, reaching for the phone and tossing it out the open window. Helena let out a desperate cry, slamming her head against the back of the seat.
"Fuck you, you little shit!" And the Clone took it, face unchanged as Helena threw insult after insult. "You're nothing! Number 2! You little clone, piece of shit!" It continued until Helena gained a semblance of reality. He was right. He was absolutely right. This was her life now…Theirlife. She wondered if he left anyone behind.
"Just pull up here," Helena instructed calmly, wiping away the spit and tears from her face.
"You better know what you're doing, Ms. Menninger."
Emma opened the door, dressed in a nightgown, and wearing a look of surprise; she was always so well put together. "Helena? What are you doing here?"
"Hey, Emma. We just need gas." Helena looked over her shoulder to see the Clone grab their empty pack and gas canisters.
"We?" Emma bit her tongue. She continued, "Come in. You're always welcome here."
Emma left Shinra shortly after she got married, just before Helena left for Nibelheim to study on Z and C. Helena was worried for their future, but the thought was quickly dashed when the Clone entered Emma's home. The Clone recognized her; Emma recognized him. She saw the company funeral for the First Class. Helena was also told he had died. And like a living ghost, he stalked the entrance, waiting for an invitation.
Emma's husband took the canisters from the Clone. The Clone decided it was best to follow him into their garage to fill them himself. Helena looked to Emma. "Don't mind him."
"I know you won't tell me what happened. I honestly would rather not know." Emma pulled her housecoat closed, no longer surprised by her friend's erratic nature. Emma should have known something was wrong when she messaged her friend with no response a week or so ago. Helena was often bored at her desk and found it funny to send her pictures of herself in various garbs and faces with captions that would elicit a hefty laugh from Emma. Emma loved that very much.
"I'd rather not tell you, Emma. Shinra's not stupid. He's company property." Helena settled with her words, awareness of her predicament taking hold and making her heart skip a beat.
They both walked to her backyard, well forested, where a large bully dog was running and throwing a stick about. Emma grabbed the stick, tussling the dog about before throwing it in the forest. The dog followed with vigour. Helena felt safe with the large animal.
"I'm pregnant," Emma revealed suddenly. "You're the first to know."
"Congratulations!" Helena was honoured to be the first with this coveted knowledge.
"I wish you could be there for him… But you were always moving further and further from me." Emma wasn't paying much attention to the dog that was hitting the stick at her ankles. Helena watched with apathy as the dog walked away, hurt.
"What are you talking about? I was in Nibelheim. We saw each other." Helena said sourly.
"I don't mean physically."
Helena shuffled her feet. "I'm not sure what's wrong with me, to be honest. I keep making terrible decisions. One after another."
"Because of him! He's terrible news, Helena." Emma held Helena's hand, gingerly cupping her thumb, eyes locked.
Helena looked away. "I'm responsible for him."
"Are you ready to be with him? If you're responsible for him, you're going to follow him to the end. Are you ready for that shit?"
Helena couldn't maintain eye contact with the solid stare Emma had. "I don't know."
"You better figure it out, Helena."
"You were always a mess," Emma continued. "I guess that's why I love you. A little chaos for my routine life."
"I love you too."
"I don't know what to do!"He was thrashing from side to side, holding onto her hand and driving it to his chest. He was lying on the operating table, yet again at the mercy of a scientist; this irony was not lost on Helena. The pain was unbearable, she imagined."I don't know what I'm doing!"
He stopped moving, pulling her closer."You love this, don't you? You love to see me so open, so vulnerable."He reached for her cheek, bloody and cold.
Helena swallowed a lump whole."Just trust me."
Helena woke with a start. The Clone was awake, sitting in the driver's seat, arms crossed.
"Trust you?" The Clone's voice rumbled in his chest—a short breath was produced.
"I don't know what I'm doing," Helena admitted finally.
"Whether you are ready for this or not, we are inherently linked now. I know you dye your hair to hide the silver. I know who you are." The Clone leaned in, noses nearly touching, his eyes studying her small facial movements.
"You would love it if I kissed you again, wouldn't you?" He laughed.
"You're a strange little Clone, Number 2." Helena pulled herself into the corner of the chair, away from his unflinching stare.
He unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the healing wound. Helena had closed it as best she could, begging for trust as she attempted to use Cure spell after Cure spell. The Clone grabbed her lab coat, begging for her not to leave. Helena, she supposed, was holding onto that. "I won't leave."
A/N: The Clone is such a tease. Helena is so tsundere!
Song: Lost in Paradise, Evanescence