Chapter 10 - Crisis of Composure, Part 1
Fandom: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII (FFVII, Advent Children, Crisis Core, Before Crisis, Dirge of Cerberus)
Pairing: Established Zack/Aerith, Eventual Sephiroth/Cloud (Subject to possible additions)
Rating: Teen (Subject to change)
Warnings: Violence, Language, Pretty much what you'd expect from FFVII. (Subject to additions)
Genre: Time Travel, AU, Action/Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Romance.
Words: 19,419
Summary: At first it was about preventing tragedy. For Cloud it soon becomes a fight to protect new bonds, tread untrod paths and find happy endings. Second chances aren't always easy in a time where ghosts live and heroes are human.
Chapter 09 - Crisis of Condor
Masterlist
Counter Crisis
by White Mage Koorii & Dragoon-Sama
Chapter 10 - Crisis of Composure
[ μ ] - εуλ 0002 (January 19th)
He didn't know how long he'd been sitting here. Midgar's light quality relied heavily on artificial illumination, and Zack hadn't bothered to turn any of the lights on when he'd gotten home. A part of him was glad that Cloud didn't seem to be back yet, or perhaps he just wasn't in. A part of him wanted to go down to the slums, to seek out Aerith's presence. The rest of him didn't have the energy. His room was dark, the small living room beyond it silent and empty. Zack sat slumped on the floor, his back resting against the bed one leg drawn up to balance the Buster Sword. He pressed his forehead against the cold metal. With one hand he cradled the hilt, and with the other he gripped the blunt edge of the sword. His fingers gripped it so tightly that they hurt.
There were no tears, though his face was twisted in an expression of mixed guilt and anguish. Perhaps he'd have cried if he'd gone to see Aerith, perhaps not. Maybe he just didn't have the energy right then, or maybe he hadn't quite let go of his composure yet. He'd held it together all the way back, gotten himself and the Turk out of the AVALANCHE base before it exploded. His clothes still smelled like the ice and snow, he noted absently, and clenched his teeth together. No matter how he tried to force his expression to relax, he couldn't manage it. The backs of his eyelids were branded with the image of crossed swords jutting from a snowy cliff, and all he could hear was the warped laughing of his mind controlled friends.
“Damn it,” he swore quietly, breath misting against Buster Sword's blade. “Angeal... Sebastian... Essai...”
He'd done it again. He had failed to save more of his friends. How was he supposed to help Cloud when he couldn't seem to help anyone else? How was he going to make sure the world didn't fall into the burning ruin Cloud had predicted--told him about--when he couldn't even stop AVALANCHE from turning two of his friends into mindless puppets?
Zack had no idea, and suddenly it felt as if there was no way he could manage it, for all his bravado. It seemed an impossible task, and even though Cloud had told him about the things he had done for him, would possibly have done, might never do now, hadn't really done because it hadn't been him.... He felt like a pale shadow against those comparisons. Zack clenched his hands tighter, his gloves creaking ominously. “Pull it together, Fair,” he rasped. “Where's your pride as a SOLDIER?”
Where was his pride as a SOLDIER? He didn't think he had it anymore. What did it mean when he failed to be the hero he'd always wanted to be? What did pride as a SOLDIER mean when he was nothing but the arm of a group of people with no morality, no honor, no anything. What did his dreams mean when being a hero meant dirtying himself with ShinRa's wishes? What did his honor mean when he had to compromise it for something that no longer meant anything?
“Angeal...”
He wished his mentor were here, but that was his fault. He hadn't been able to stop Angeal from sacrificing himself, hadn't been able to keep him from dying. He missed Angeal's constant mantra, and no matter how hard he tried to cling to it, it seemed to be slipping away from him right then. He just didn't have the emotional or physical energy to muster his usual optimism.
The room seemed too full of his own doubts, and Zack felt mired in them.
"Zack?"
His throat felt too thick and tight. Zack had never been the sort of man afraid of showing emotion. He kept it together until he could let go, true, but he didn't hide what he felt. He'd cried over Angeal, and felt the hurt of his mentor's loss for months, felt it even now after nearly a year. He hadn't known Essai and Sebastian that well, but they'd still been friends.
"…Zack? Are you okay?" Cloud's voice finally broke through the haze of his spinning thoughts. He hissed slightly when he cracked his forehead against Buster Sword as he jerked his head up, and squinted toward where Cloud stood in the darkness; a deeper shadow against the room beyond his door.
“Cloud?” Zack asked, his voice came out thicker than he'd have liked it, and he winced. Was he okay? No, he wasn't but...Zack gave a rueful bark of laughter. It took more effort than he'd have thought to get his clenched fingers to relax their hold on Buster Sword, but eventually he let go of the blade. It sagged more fully against his thigh, and Zack lifted his hand to press his palm over his eyes. “I...yeah, I'm...” Zack fumbled for words, not wanting to lie, but neither wanting to drag Cloud into his own doubts. He knew how Cloud viewed him, and there was something brittle in him right then that wasn't sure if he could deal with that idealized version of himself. “It...it was just a tough mission. We,” his voice cracked. It might have been embarrassing if Zack had been someone else. “We lost some good men.”
Not just Essai and Sebastian either, they'd lost a lot of men to AVALANCHE. Men that had been under Zack's command. His second mission gone to hell. He was a SOLDIER, this was a military mission and he shouldn't be so bothered by it, but he was. He should expect some losses, even the loss of friends and yet.... His other hand released Buster Sword's hilt, and the sword clanged against the floor as it slid away from him. Zack brought his hand up, tilted his head back, and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He couldn't be the monster that killed things for pleasure and didn't care what got in its way that some people expected SOLDIERs to be.
"It…wasn’t your fault," Cloud said, voice hesitant and quiet. There was a rustle of fabric as he knelt on the floor next to Zack. Zack heard another shift, though nothing came of it and Cloud breathed out slowly. It was loud in the silence. When he spoke again his voice was a little more strong, a little more sure, “You did…everything you could."
“Did I? I know it's not my fault. It's just....” Zack pulled his hands away from his face, expression twisted in one of black anger and grief. He slammed his fist down, hard, on the floor next to him, drew his knees up, and rocked forward to drape his arms around them. “If there's anyone to blame it's them. They're the ones who did this to Essai and Sebastian but....” Zack lifted his hands again, unable to stay still, and tangled his fingers in his hair. The words came pouring out in a rushing, unstoppable torrent, “But I still...I should have been able to do more. If I hadn't taken so long to get there, if I'd tried harder to talk Angeal out of it, been faster in reaching the base after we got separated. If I hadn't attacked them....” It was all so muddled together, so close and aching, that it was almost inseparable. Like it was all one big mass of things that had gone wrong, and Zack's explanation ran together, overlapping, and meshing. He breathed deep, trying to ignore the heaviness behind his eyes. “I told you before that I'm not very good at saving people, Cloud.”
Zack closed his eyes again, seeing Angeal sprawled on the floor, dying from degradation and their fight. Angeal as he entrusted his dreams and honor to him. Essai and Sebastian, their armor stained black like those weird AVALANCHE soldiers', falling to the floor as the fight went out of them alongside the strange control they'd been under. Essai and Sebastian as they told him they were happy to have had a chance to talk to him one more time.
He didn't know if the strikes he'd dealt to any of them had been the killing blows, or if he'd just ushered them along faster to their inevitable demises. It didn't really matter, because he knew he'd had a hand in it. That he hadn't managed to bring them back, and that was enough. If he'd been a better SOLDIER, a better friend, a better student, he'd have managed somehow. A hero would have managed it. It might not be his fault, but...he'd still failed the people he cared about, and that was almost as bad.
"You saved me," Cloud said, voice thick. "You don't…you aren't a failure. Zack, I…"
Zack flinched. He'd been afraid of that, been afraid of Cloud saying something just like that, and right now...right now he just couldn't take it. He couldn't stand being compared and feeling ferociously inadequate against himself of all things. Not when his emotions were raw, and his anger simmering against the loss of more friends, and the part he had played in their deaths. It was something that had been at the back of his mind, hanging over the friendship he shared with Cloud like a grim shadow. “No, I didn't,” he said, voice sounding more harsh than he meant. He lifted his head and glared at Cloud. Maybe he'd saved Cloud during the Mideel mission, maybe it'd be okay if that's what Cloud was talking about but Zack knew it wasn't. “Maybe I would have, maybe I could have, but I didn't, Cloud.”
Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe the Zack that Cloud had known before was just better somehow, or maybe something had happened between now and then that had changed things. Zack didn't know, and he probably never would. That was fine, Zack was fine with being himself, doubts, inadequacies and all. He'd learned something of a new respect for just being himself lately, and there were a thousand vitriolic things pressing against the back of his teeth that he wanted to say. Venomous, hurtful things about whether Cloud saw him at all, or just a ghost. Whether Cloud was friends with him, or a memory.
For a moment it looked as if Cloud was going to say something, but he didn't, and Zack made an impotent sound, forcing back his own words. As upset as he was, as much as it hurt, as much as everything hurt right then, he refused to take it out on Cloud because he understood how haunted he was. Zack knew that he couldn't help it, that it would take time for Cloud to heal, to accept, and that that couldn't be forced. That maybe he'd never be fully recovered, Zack understood that, but...
But it hurt, feeling like he could never live up to what Cloud wanted him to be...like he wasn't enough for his friend.
“I'm not him!” the words exploded from him before he could choke them back. He hadn't realized he'd shoved himself to his feet until he nearly tripped over Buster Sword. Zack reached up pressing a hand to his forehead. “I can't....”
He couldn't deal with this right now on top of everything else.
“I'm going to go out, I'll....” He headed for the door, leaving Buster Sword where it lay. Not even thinking about it. His mind was too scattered, and he had no idea what he wanted, or where to go right then. He had nothing but the burning urge to get away before he said something to make it worse, had nothing but the need for some time to be alone with his hurt, to work through it and.... He suddenly just wanted to see Aerith. “Yeah...I'll see you later Cloud, I'm...just, yeah.” He tossed a little wave over his shoulder, and was out of the room before he could look back and see what his words had done to Cloud, or hear what Cloud would say.
He just...couldn't.
The trip down to the Sector 5 slums seemed to take forever, yet only a few seconds with his inner turmoil. By the time he walked through the scuffed dirt and detritus of the path that lead to the church the rush of anger and hurt had left him. Zack felt drained, and exhausted, and he knew from the time that Aerith wouldn't likely be at the church, but it was still a place to go, a respite. He could go there for awhile, and enjoy the calm serenity that always filled it.
He walked heavily up the wide stone steps, and gently eased open the doors. It was as empty as he'd known it would be, and while he expected Aerith wouldn't begrudge him if he darkened her doorstep, no matter the hour, he couldn't bring himself to bother her. Zack couldn't help but feel he'd worried the people he cared about enough for one night.
The inside of the church lacked the golden quality it normally had, instead it seemed to be bathed in blue-gray shadows. The flowers at the center were still just as pretty as ever, the yellow and white petals glowing softly in the faint tracery of light that came in through the hole in the roof. Zack walked slowly up the aisle between the aged pews, his boots scuffing against the wooden floor.
“I feel terrible,” he said aloud as if that would somehow make it better or confirm it. All it did was tell him how wobbly his voice was, and when he sniffed next and the tears started flowing he was less surprised. He dashed the back of his arm over his eyes, and blinked until he could see straight again. Zack stepped around the pew in the front row and sank down to sit on it, then slumped forward and braced his forearms on his knees. The faint light played off his gloves, highlighting them lightly around the edges of his fingers and palm. It wasn't until a choked sob caught in his throat that he realized the tears were back, and this time he didn't try to stop them, just hunched his shoulders and let them fall.
He never heard the soft creak of the door, nor the hurried footsteps. The first time he noticed Aerith's presence was as she sat down beside him and slid her arms around him. “Zack...” she breathed, then didn't say a word more. She just let him cry as she had done before, and Zack was grateful for it, grateful for the contact, and her warm presence, for her silent support, and the way she simply understood. Grateful that she was there for him somehow, for the light touch of her hand against his back, and her arm around his waist, and when his tears slowed to nothing more than quiet, hitching breaths, he was grateful for the continued silence as she let him compose himself.
When at last he lifted his head and looked up at her, Aerith smiled at him sadly. He noted that her hair was out of its usual braid and fell around her in loose auburn waves though she still wore the pink ribbon he'd bought for her on their first date. Her hand came up to brush against his cheek, and Zack reached up to catch it in his. “I had a feeling,” she said softly, “that...something was wrong. So I came.”
He summoned up a reflection of his usual smile for her, and sunk back against the pew. She slid with him, resting against his side. Her hair tickled his arm. Silence pressed around them, and exhaustion dragged at Zack, his eyes gritty and sore, and his throat raw. “Two of my friends...” he said, then trailed off into a soft little sound.
“They'll be okay,” she said softly. He believed her.
“And Cloud...” he added. “I shouldn't have said that to him.” The guilt hit him hard. He'd been terrible to Cloud, said horrible things to his friend.
He heard her exhale, could imagine her slight smile. “That will be okay too, whatever it is.” He believed that too, he always believed her.
“I'm exhausted,” he added. He lifted his hand and smoothed it over his face. He still needed to talk to Cloud, to tell him he was sorry for snapping at him. To tell him he hadn't meant to be an ass, and... and make sure he hadn't hurt him too badly. He needed to....
Aerith straightened at his side and tugged at his arm. “Then go to sleep, silly.”
“Simple as that?” he asked, letting her tug him over, letting her direct him to rest his head on her thighs, and letting himself relax as she threaded her fingers into his hair, then traced them over his brow and along his jawline.
“Simple as that. Before you know it, it'll be morning, and everything will look brighter.”
Zack chuckled, her other hand still held captive in his, and closed his eyes a smile lingering on his lips. “It already is.”
She tugged on his ear in slight reprimand, then combed her fingers through his hair again. Yeah, he would need to fix things in the morning, maybe talk to Cloud right, and explain some things to him. Maybe he'd tell him more about Angeal tomorrow, and maybe even about Sebastian and Essai. He didn't have to listen to confidentiality where Cloud was concerned, didn't need to care about ShinRa's bullshit. He would build his own reason to be proud of being a SOLDIER, find his own way of honor, and he already had a new dream.
And speaking of that new dream.... “Aerith,” he said quietly. She hummed a soft query. “I can't tell you right now, it's...most of it isn't mine to tell but.... One day things are going to get real bad and I'm going to tell you what's going on. That way if things turn out wrong you'll be prepared.”
Her fingers paused on his temple for a second before resuming. “I understand.”
Just in case his dream didn't work out; his dream of all of them being happy together, and alive.
Cloud had given that to him.
As he drifted off into an exhausted sleep under Aerith's gentle touch, Zack drowsily decided that he'd thank Cloud for that in the morning.
-
Zack's words had been like a physical blow, had been enough to make him flinch. Guilt, heavy and dark and familiar, clawed through Cloud's mind as he sat alone in the dark. Where before the lack of light had seemed out of place for the normally upbeat Zack, now it seemed suitable with his friend's absence. Even though he knew it was his fault, knew his words had hurt something inside Zack, Cloud still strained his ears, hoping, wishing he would hear Zack come back. He felt lost, and had no idea what to do to fix the situation. Normally he would look to Zack for guidance, but that wasn't possible now.
Somehow, everything had gone wrong in the matter of a few days. Cloud should have known better, had experienced it often enough to know that when things were looking up, that was when everything fell apart. He should have been prepared, should have expected it…but he'd never expected it to come from Zack. Zack was Cloud's constant, the protection he fell back on even when his friend had been dead and gone and all Cloud had were fractured recollections from a mako addled delirium. Even then there had been others-Aerith, Tifa, all of his friends-now there was no one Cloud could turn to.
A vision of Sephiroth flitted across his mind, and Cloud snarled in anger. There was no reason for him to look to that man for anything. The recent encounter had merely been a passing fancy for Sephiroth and Cloud was as always reading too much into things.
He didn't know how long he knelt there in the dark, abandoned room, eyes staring sightlessly at the discarded Buster Sword. Eventually, he stood slowly, muscles protesting the movement after so long in one position. He picked up the sword carefully, hefting the familiar weight, remembering a time he had called it his. It had never really been his, though. Cloud hadn't remembered, had never known the depth of memories behind the blade. He couldn’t cherish it the way Zack could…did.
He brought it out to the living room, setting it in its holder on the wall. Zack would be upset, if he thought it had just been left carelessly on the floor. Numbly, Cloud walked into his own room…the spare room, looking at the meager pile of stuff that belonged to him. Not to him, though. To the old him who Cloud didn't remember and could never be again. He turned, leaving it all behind. It never belonged to him. This life had never belonged to him.
Cloud shouldn't have stayed. He had fallen prey to his own broken dreams, of a Zack who was alive, of Aerith, of Sephiroth who was once again the hero Cloud had admired. There was no place for him here. What he should have done from the beginning was destroy the source, find Jenova, Hojo, get rid of them all even if it turned him into a fugitive from ShinRa. That wasn't anything new, after all.
He paused in the doorway to the apartment, one hand resting lightly on the doorjamb though he didn't look back inside. He knew what he had to do now, but even if it hurt, even if Zack didn't want to see him, or couldn’t forgive Cloud for trying to force him to be someone he wasn't, Cloud had to apologize to Zack. It wasn't anything he was good at, the words always seemed inadequate, but once again his promise to Tifa drove him on. He'd promised to do better. Without further thought, he set out to find his friend.
The church was still and quiet in the pre-dawn air, the world colored a washed-out gray that wasn't darkness but wasn't illumination either. Cloud hesitated at the foot of the path up to the old building. There had been no doubt for him, not really, at where Zack would go at a time like this. The church was a place of respite, of comfort, and had served that purpose for Cloud in the past…future. The difference was that Zack didn't just have ghosts to return to, the empty pews full of fading memories and broken promises.
The trip down into the slums had been a blur. Cloud had walked in that daze that had always bordered on the surreal, like the times when Aerith would appear in his exhausted mind, always just out of sight, just out of reach, but still warmly there to offer her comfort. He had wished, for one selfish moment, that she would come to him and tell him not to leave. Cloud didn't want to leave, not really, but he didn't want to keep causing grief for Zack like this.
She hadn't appeared of course. Aerith wasn't dead in this time, didn't even really know Cloud at all. Loneliness had crept in on Cloud, though he pushed the feeling back as much as he could. His self-imposed isolation had been painful, the desire to see his friends always counteracted by the heavy guilt and grief that had consumed him. Cloud had hurt his friends because of that, which only added to his regrets. Now, at least, his absence might cause some relief for his friends. He tried to make himself believe that, ignoring the mocking thoughts that told him he wasn't needed here.
The wooden doors of the church creaked slightly as Cloud pushed open one leaf, slipping silently into the vaulted interior. Shadows clung to the walls and ceiling, but down the center of the aisle, Aerith's flowers glowed silvery in the meager light. The sight was familiar to Cloud, one he'd seen after many sleepless nights spent in the church. He walked forward slowly, boots scraping lightly on the wooden floor as he tried to fortify himself for the confrontation he knew lay ahead.
Zack wasn't immediately visible, but Cloud could see the familiar pink ribbon in Aerith's hair where she sat in the front row of pews. As he got closer, she turned her head. Her eyes caught his as she offered a welcoming smile. Cloud tried to stop the warm feeling that gave him. If he lingered too long here, he knew he would lose his nerve, be unable to leave even if the world went to hell again because of it. When the reclined form on the bench next to Aerith came into view Cloud paused. He was intruding once again.
Aerith smiled at him as if telling him she'd understand if he chose to sit down or if he turned and left without another word. There was nothing accusing in the expression; there never was, Cloud knew. Not in hers, and not in Zack's either. He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting against the urge to turn and run away again, to not face Zack's angry, hurt expression.
A vision of Tifa's warm, worried eyes filled his mind, a memory of her hopeful tone as she asked one more promise from him, not pushing, not expecting, and he knew he couldn't fail her again, couldn't break another promise he'd made for her. Cloud opened his eyes and stepped forward, sitting gingerly on the bench next to Aerith. Zack appeared to be asleep, completely unaware of his presence.
They sat in silence for a while. Cloud stared sightlessly at the field of flowers in front of him. He was loathe to break the peace, wished the problems would just vanish in dawn's light like the clinging shadows. He knew better, but wished it all the same.
Aerith let out a faint breath that might have been a sigh, or maybe something else entirely. She brought a hand up from where it covered Zack's, resting lightly over her knee, and touched Cloud's arm lightly. “How are you doing, Cloud?” she asked softly. The question was incongruously normal for how horrible Cloud felt.
He blinked as he pulled himself out of his daze. It hadn't been obvious, but Cloud was now realizing how tired he really was. He hadn't slept at all, and had just returned from that confusing and exhilarating mission. He'd been looking forward to talking to Zack, to try and figure out what Sephiroth's actions had meant, what it might mean for the future. Walking in on a miserable Zack hadn't been part of the plan and Cloud had failed at that too. But Aerith wasn't judging him or accusing him. If she even thought he had anything to do with Zack's current upset, she obviously didn’t condemn him for that. Cloud was thrown once again by Aerith's understanding nature and patience. It felt like something he didn't deserve when he couldn't even be truthful as to who he was and why she meant so much to him. Once again he was hiding behind a mask of someone else, only this time he was aware of the lie.
"I…made a mistake," Cloud said finally. His voice sounded muffled, lost in the high ceiling and still air. He risked a small, sideways look at Zack who hadn't stirred. Zack's face was relaxed in sleep, though Cloud could see the faint trace of tears. Guilt swelled in him again, all too aware of his inability to offer comfort when his friend had needed it.
“We all make mistakes sometimes,” she said with a small warm smile. “You just have to try and fix the ones that are fixable, and learn from them.” She paused, hand stilling where it was smoothing over Zack's hair and looked more directly at Cloud. Aerith ducked her head down, auburn hair slithering loosely over her shoulder. “Do you...want to talk about it?”
Cloud clenched his hands together in his lap and the leather creaked softly in protest. He turned his head slightly, almost afraid she would vanish like his visions of her always had. Aerith remained solid, her green gaze catching his easily. The reassurance that she was still here helped him relax, though his emotions were still in turmoil.
"What if…what if you can't fix them? What if they…hurt others?" Cloud asked. He wasn't sure anymore if he was talking about his slip up with Zack, or if he meant when he'd failed to save her, or even if he meant when he'd failed to stop Sephiroth. There were so many times in his life that his failures had hurt others. Learn from his mistakes? He learned every time how much they hurt, but it seemed he was unable to prevent further tragedies from happening anyway. "How…how do you accept another chance?" Cloud dropped his gaze back to his tightly clenched hands, his voice a hoarse whisper.
“Then you just pick yourself up and keep on trying,” Zack mumbled, voice rough with sleep. “And second chances don't come along that often, so you better grab them when you can, and make the best of it.” Cloud nearly choked at the unexpected interruption, and he flinched slightly as he realized Zack had finally woken up. Even before Zack's optimistic words reached him, Cloud knew it was too late for him to run away. It had been an impulsive reaction, one he knew Zack would never have stood for if Cloud had tried to go through with it. Unlike Tifa's unobtrusive attention that prevented her from following him when he chose to vanish, Zack would probably have dropped everything to hunt him down. “Hey... Cloud?” Zack said after a moment longer. “I'm really sorry for what I said, I.... Well, I didn't mean to snap at you. And, Cloud? Thanks.”
Cloud had no idea what to do with the apology. There was no reason for Zack to be sorry. All Cloud had done was make the situation worse, after all. Even more baffling was the thanks. Cloud was left bewildered even as the weak dawn light broke through the underside of the plate's constant gloom. He tried to formulate some sort of response, but found himself unable to as the confusion and guilt swirled into a leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"I don't…understand," Cloud said finally, looking at Zack helplessly. "I didn't mean to compare…" he trailed off as his gaze trailed to Aerith guiltily. "I'm...sorry…."
Cloud frowned down at his hands again, aware he was messing this up too. He wanted to deny Zack's accusations of earlier, that he'd been comparing his friend to the Zack that had died for him. It hadn't occurred to Cloud to try to differentiate the two; they were both Zack, both his friend, both people he owed a great deal to. But it was true that they were very different people, even for being the same person.
Cloud's patchy memory had created a persona from the scraps of Zack that he could remember, but that wasn't the same as spending the day doing missions together, relaxing over a meal in their apartment, visiting the slums to see Aerith, or just to find something to pass the time. The sacrifice the other Zack had made would always be Cloud's burden to bear, one he was both thankful for and resigned to never being able to repay. He had thought he was doing so here and now, that by ensuring this Zack was happy and alive that it would somehow make up for the stolen years lost to the future.
In doing so Cloud had dishonored both the memory of his fallen friend and hurt his new friend without realizing it. Cloud had tried to paint Zack as a hero and push that image onto him without considering the pressure and expectations that had put on Zack. It made him feel slightly ill that he'd done that to Zack when Cloud himself had suffered from trying to live up to other's expectations.
"I'm sorry…" he repeated more quietly still, his voice barely a whisper. It was an apology to his friend's memory, which he had foolishly forgotten in his own selfishness.
With a heavy sigh Zack swung his legs off the pew, sat up, and twisted toward Cloud and Aerith. He rested one arm on the back of the pew, and reached around Aerith toward Cloud with the other. “C'mere.” Zack ignored Aerith's muffled sound of surprise as he tugged Cloud closer to the both of them, trapping her between them. “Now stop making that face, Cloud. I'm sorry that I snapped at you because I know what you're going through. Don't look at me like that, it's true, and I'll tell you all about it later. I shouldn't have let my emotions get the better of me either.”
Cloud succumbed to the sudden embrace with only a slight widening of the eyes. He'd rather expected the tactile response from Zack, already used to his friend's clingy nature. That was, he supposed, the entire point. He knew this Zack, knew his quirks, his likes, his dislikes, whereas before Zack had been a savior, an ideal, an untouchable dream. No matter what happened in this life it would never change the sacrifice that Zack had died for, but that didn't mean Cloud couldn't find new happiness with this Zack.
Aerith wrapped an arm around each of them, apparently surrendering to the group hug with good humor. Aerith's arm around him was also a new comfort. Cloud had known Aerith, could remember the time spent with her clearly despite his own identity issues at the time. Now that he'd met this younger Aerith, not touched by as much tragedy, he could see the differences in them. The future Aerith had acted a lot like Zack in a way. Perhaps that was her way of keeping his memory alive after he'd gone missing from her life.
Even so there had still been a distance between them. Cloud's own twisted perceptions had seen a possible life together with her, for a while at least. Those same delusions had been perceptible to Aerith on some level, he knew. She could see the ghost of her first love in him, because in a very real way that's exactly what had happened. But she couldn’t touch Cloud, because he wasn't there at all.
Here, her arm was warm, real, and there for him. There was a connection between the three of them that Cloud wasn't sure he'd ever experienced before, and certainly hadn't since Nibelheim. With Tifa, even though she'd wished for more his own guilt had forced him to keep his distance from her offered warmth. The closest he'd come to this acceptance was from Marlene and Denzel. The orphan in particular had touched Cloud's heart, seeming to be a gift from Aerith to help him heal. Cloud relaxed into Aerith's side, her hair tickling his face as he closed his eyes. The cold fear that had plagued him since Zack had walked out the door was fading and Cloud marveled at the warmth that took its place.
“You can't help it, and I understand that. It's why I didn't bring it up. I'm not going to be mad at you for that.” Zack leaned back and ruffled Cloud's hair. Normally he found it annoying, but this time it was a welcome comfort. “And I don't think you realize how much you've helped me just by being friends with me, Cloud. You're my second chance, buddy, and don't you forget that, okay? For what it's worth apology accepted. Full forgiveness given, even. So long as you give us a smile then we can move on. Is that a deal?"
Even if he'd wanted to, Cloud couldn't help the quiet chuckle at Zack's characteristically flippant dismissal of Cloud's guilt. It was something he would probably never win at when it came to his friend, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Aerith glanced between the two of them, then nodded. “Good,” she said. “I'm not sure what I'd have done if you two decided to be immature about this.”
Zack winked at her. “Probably have banned us from visiting until we made up.” She shook her head at him then extracted herself from between them. As soon as she stood up she wobbled and gave a little gasp of surprise. Zack snatched her before she could fall, eyes wide with surprised dismay. “Aerith, are you okay?”
Aerith winced and rubbed at her leg. “My leg must have fallen asleep from you laying on it,” she admitted. “Oooh, ow.”
As she sank back to sit between them again, Zack's expression transformed into one of utter sheepishness. “Aerith! Why didn't you wake me up. Or just shove me off!” Zack only looked more dismayed when she took one look at him and descended into a fit of girlish giggles. By the time she got herself back under control, Zack looked resigned and amused.
“It's okay,” Aerith gasped. She wiped tears of mirth from her cheeks. “I didn't mind, but don't you have somewhere you need to go? And I need to see to the flowers....”
Zack sighed faintly and rolled his eyes, then tugged her close to drop a kiss on her head. “Yeah, I...” he glanced by her to Cloud and gave him a wry smile. “I didn't bother to report when I got back last night, so I need to go and talk to Lazard, Veld, and Tseng.” He cleared his throat and gave Cloud an uneasy look, which cleared away into determination. “After I take care of work for the day, we'll talk, okay Cloud? There's some things I want to tell you about.” He paused, looking between the two, then stood up and propped his fists on his hips. “I'm the only one who got any sleep last night, aren't I?” His shoulders slumped, hands sliding off his hips to dangle before he lifted one to brush through his wild hair. “Aw, geeze, now I just feel even worse...”
"Oh, you probably needed it the most," Aerith said, tutting as she ran a hand through her mussed hair. "Cloud and I look this pretty naturally. You need all the help you can get." She stood up, rubbing her leg for a moment before straightening completely. Cloud rose too, ready to give her a helping hand if she needed it. Though from Zack's hovering he doubted he would get the chance. Her green eyes focused on him and she reached out a hand to touch him lightly on the shoulder. "You are okay, right Cloud? Just remember he's a big puppy; all bark, no bite, but lots of slobber," She tapped Zack lightly on the chest with her fist. Cloud gave her a wan smile, his exhaustion shining through as the emotional crisis passed.
"I will be," he affirmed, nodding at Zack.
“I don't slobber!” Zack yelped, then huffed. “Man, not you too. It was bad enough that apparently Angeal used to call me a puppy.” Shaking his head, he sidled around her and tossed an arm over Cloud's shoulders. “You make sure you get some sleep Aerith and I'll take Cloud back home.” As he tugged Cloud off with him Aerith's merry laughter chased after them. Zack muttered, “C'mon, let's go. I need to get cleaned up before I go visit the Turks.”
Cloud nodded, giving a half shrug to dislodge Zack's arm and making walking easier. Idly, he remembered how he'd expected the night to end in nothing more challenging than bed, possibly food if he was feeling ambitious. A look at Zack's face reassured him that his friend was feeling much better, and not just putting up a front. Whatever had caused Zack's grief, Cloud would listen to his friend and offer what comfort he could. If that wasn't enough, Cloud would just have to do more until it was enough.
"I think," he said, stifling a yawn, "I'll wait at the apartment. If that's okay?" The query was rhetorical, since Zack didn't need him for checking in with his commander. While Zack was gone, Cloud would try to catch a little bit of sleep and then they would talk. Somehow, it would all turn out alright, and even now, looking back on it under the light of the morning sun and in the face of Zack's acceptance...the idea of running away seemed utterly absurd.
-
The heavy clomp of boots was the only warning the two Turks had before the SOLDIER 1st came rushing down the hall. The two took a single step aside just before imminent collision and turned to watch him disappear. “Whoa! Watch it you maniac!” Reno hollered. He cast a glance at Rude out of the corner of one eye and tilted his chin up to indicate the corner the SOLDIER had disappeared around. “You think getting run over by a SOLDIER is better or worse than a getting stepped on by a behemoth?”
“...Wasn't that Fair?”
Reno reached up and scratched under the strap of his goggles. “It looked like his sword,” he agreed, then waved the armful of manila folders under his arm at the end of the hall in dismissal. “Eh, who cares. We got something to do.”
Reno was in a bad mood so at least he took pleasure in the fact that Fair had looked as harried as he felt. None of the Turks were in a particularly good mood after Veld had been dismissed and Heidegger of all people put in control. Heidegger didn't care about anything but his army, and he sure as shit didn't have a clue how to handle the Turks. At least they had Tseng to run some damage control, but it just wasn't the same without the director. Reno shoved his hands back in his pockets and proceeded to slouch down the hallway again.
The door to central command opened just as the pair reached it and Reno found himself face to face with another pair of Turks. He recognized the man who'd opened the door as Guns, and the brunette standing behind him with her arms crossed and a frown on her face had the be one of the new recruits. Reno stared at Guns who stared back at him for several seconds. “Reno,” he greeted after a moment, backing down and stepping aside enough to let them through. “Rude.”
“Guns,” Reno drawled. “Rookie.” Rude gave the pair a nod as he followed him in. The brunette frowned at him, but didn't say anything as she followed Guns out. Before the door closed completely, a quiet set of footsteps announced another arrival. Reno didn't bother to look back as she came in. “So, who're you today?”
There was a pause from Cissnei as she considered Reno's snide question then answered with a quiet, “Shuriken.”
Tseng stood at the head of the room near a bank of computer terminals. The large screens that filled up three of the four walls cast everything into a flickering blue green glow. The ShinRa logo was displayed on each and every one. There was one more Turk there, standing near the right side screens. She had her long dirty blonde hair in its usual high ponytail. Shotgun nodded in acknowledgment a second before Tseng turned away from her to look at the three of them curiously.
“Reno, Rude...Shuriken,” Tseng greeted. Reno thought he looked tired and a little drawn. Having to cow-tow to that oaf Heidegger probably wasn't easy. Reno didn't envy Tseng's higher position on the food chain right then. “What can I do for you?”
Reno sauntered forward and tossed the folders down on one of the terminals. A slew of printed, awkward photographs spilled out. A few drifted to the floor. “I was wondering if you took the time to hear the latest rumors,” Reno said, then smirked. It was sharp and wolfish. He watched Tseng look down, frown, and pick up one of the images. They weren't the best quality, clearly taken from a cellphone, blurry and tilted as they were, but the image they displayed was still the same.
Cloud Strife locked in battle with Sephiroth himself, and clearly keeping up.
Tseng stared contemplatively at the photo in his hand then let his eyes roam over the spread of partially displayed images scattered across the terminal. "These are reliable?" Tseng asked, flicking the photo back onto the pile of its brethren.
Reno's smirked transformed into a full on wicked grin. “Oh you can bet your ass these are reliable. Most of these photos come from different sources. We have around...what was it, Rude? Twenty witnesses? Infantrymen, SOLDIERS, and some scientists." He reached down and pulled out several of the long distance shots, clearly taken from the base of Fort Condor. "And all of them are saying the same thing. They didn't know the kid's name, but they all saw some blond in a trooper uniform going toe-to-toe with Sephiroth.”
He stepped forward and reached out and flipped open the folder. Reno shoved aside the collection of photos to reveal the paperwork underneath. “I took the liberty of pulling Strife's files and having a nose around. There's not much there. Average kid, got a bit of a track record for getting into fights. We have a file on him ourselves courtesy of Shotgun,” he nodded to the woman, “from the mission to escort Doctor Rayleigh awhile back.” It was interesting that Cloud had been involved in that, a mission that involved AVALANCHE and their mysterious black armored soldiers out to steal a disc full of highly confidential research about the SOLDIER program. Really, other than his enrollment in the Army and a few flags in his files that was the first incident that he'd pinged the Turks radar. Reno picked up a particular sheet of paper, and leaned forward, smirk firmly in place. “But, see, that's not the most interesting part....”
The silence lingered as Reno gave in to the need for a little dramatic effect. No one seemed willing to play up to it, no one leaned in, no intent attention. Nothing. Man, what a bunch of killjoys. He wasn't willing to give it up though, so it stayed there until it just became awkward. Finally, Rude cleared his throat. “...Reno....”
“Yeah, yeah,” Reno huffed. “I'm getting to it.” Reno brandished the print out. “According to Strife's medical files he was examined by one of Hojo's lab assistants after he got back to Midgar in December.”
Tseng gave him a blasé look. “I fail to see how that is interesting.”
“Oh, but it is,” Reno crowed. “See, this particular assistant was suddenly transferred to the space program and headed west two days after examining Strife.” Reno straightened up and looked at the paper, practically preening where he stood. “Name of Ellis Briant...sounds kinda familiar, like that guy that was under suspicion for letting some of Hojo's specimens loose. Not to mention he was a geneticist, didn't have any interest or know-how in rocket science until then.”
"You were also on that mission," Tseng said, looking to Cissnei. "You were able to observe Strife after his accident? Your report mentioned he suffered from obvious signs of mako poisoning. Yet a medical staff cleared him a few days later, and then was reassigned immediately after."
Tseng frowned at the obvious sign of tampering, and Reno grinned slyly. He could almost see Tseng's train of thought. After all it was one thing to learn that someone in ShinRa wanted to cover up information about the trooper, but it was another to leave an obvious trail. Normally such procedures were handled by the Turks who ensured that any trail left behind would lead to dead ends. Who had ordered it, then? The most likely candidate was Lazard, but why? What was his purpose? A trooper fell into contact with diluted mako and is suddenly able to keep up with Sephiroth. Perhaps the medical exam had come up with an anomaly the SOLDIERs were trying to exploit. Each branch of ShinRa liked to keep their cards close to their chest, so if Lazard had discovered a potential asset he could exploit, it made sense that he would rush to cover up the evidence.
"Who has had contact with Strife? Before and after the Mideel mission," Tseng asked abruptly, fixing his subordinates with a sharp look. Their first order of business was to collect as much information as possible, and if there was one thing Turks were good at, it was finding out other people's business.
Reno shrugged. “I've seen him twice since the Mideel mission. When we went in to save their asses, and again in mid December, but I wouldn't really call it contact. Rude's had more contact with him than I have.”
Rude nodded. “Once as they reported in right after their return from the mission. He was with Fair and Sephiroth when they reported to Lazard.”
Tseng raised an eyebrow at that. "He looked well?" Reno looked too. The kid had to be made of some tough stuff to be up and about after the kind of treatment the report gave. It wasn't everyday someone took a nose dive into some mako, and the SOLDIERs didn't seem to think too highly of their little showers.
“...A little uncomfortable but otherwise healthy.”
“Man,” Reno griped, “you never told me about this!”
“...It didn't seem important.”
"And?" Tseng interrupted before Reno could lament on his partner's failure to communicate.
Rude lifted his shoulders in a faint shrug. “That's all.”
“What about the 24th?” Reno demanded. “Strife was there.”
“We didn't say anything.”
“When was the Mideel mission?” Shotgun interrupted before things could take a further tangent.
Tseng flipped through some of the papers Reno had brought in, clearly double checking his information. “They were dispatched on the 10th of December 01, and had to be pulled out the next day.”
“Once before, and once after, then,” she said thoughtfully. “With the Rayleigh Mission and during the Festival.”
"Good. Did you notice an obvious change in appearance or behavior?" Tseng asked, not looking up as he wrote a quick note in the margin of the report. Reno leaned forward to peer at the notation thoughtfully. A change in behavior could be caused by mako, but would more likely be caused by whatever the Director was up to with Strife. While not as extreme as the ShinRa scientists, even Lazard fell prey to using his SOLDIERs in experiments. If Shotgun could give them a baseline....
Shotgun remained quiet for several seconds, gaze turned upward in contemplation. “While I didn't have much time to observe him he did seem a little more...reserved than before. The Cloud Strife I met before was a little brash and idealistic. He refused to back down and flee the scene when AVALANCHE showed up, and instead insisted on aiding in combat and protecting his comrades and charge to the end. He also refused to let Doctor Rayleigh be harmed to protect the disc she was carrying.” She paused again, lips parted as she wavered over a bit of information, then frowned. “He did display a surprising ability with a sword for a trooper and managed to wield one of the large SOLDIER-type swords the black AVALANCHE soldiers wield.” She smiled wryly and shrugged, ponytail bouncing. “He said he was desperate.”
Tseng's gaze turned back to the photos still scattered haphazardly and Reno gave a low whistle. Now that same random trooper was exchanging blows with ShinRa's best.
"The mystery deepens," Reno muttered to Rude out of the side of his mouth. Rude elbowed him in the side, but Reno ignored it.
While it wasn't entirely unusual for Infantrymen to be familiar with swords, and some even did pretty damn well-they were usually the ones looked at for SOLDIER recruitment-and it wasn't unusual for a desperate man to be able to pull off feats he never could normally.... It could also work as a cover up for something else. Something shadier. Was he an AVALANCHE spy? It was a possibility, however unlikely. If something had changed in their plans for Strife to stop being subtle.... It almost made sense.
Where Zack came into this was another piece of the puzzle. The SOLDIER was overly friendly, as they well knew, so it was possible it was merely a coincidence that Strife was suddenly closely involved with him. Turks didn't tend believe in coincidences, though, and with that thought Reno gave a self-satisfied grin. When Tseng looked up at him, Reno didn't bother to hide it or make an effort to look relaxed or bored, as was his usual style. For once he couldn't contain the restless energy. This was going to be good.
Before Reno had a chance to interject, Cissnei's quiet voice piped up, “I'd never met him before Mideel, but...he said some rather strange things. I disregarded them because of the obvious mako poisoning.” There was a faintly apologetic tone to her voice, Reno noted.
Tseng shot her a stern look. "There seems to be a great deal of 'disregarding' going on lately." They all recognized the rebuke for what is was. "Explain, please," he ordered, flicking through the papers again. He stopped on what Reno recognized as Cissnei's report for the aforementioned mission. It had been a standard report considering the disaster that mission had been. That alone should have been suspicious.
Cissnei crossed her arms over her breasts and gripped her upper arms. “Well... Zack got him talking about his hometown, Nibelheim, and Cloud said that...he'd nearly been eaten by a dragon?” She frowned slightly, then looked up. “And that the experiments were loose. He seemed to know the Ancient, too. Now that I think about it Zack seemed surprised about that. I'd thought maybe Zack had just mentioned her to him or something, and the rest just seemed to be easily explained away that he was rambling about separate instances under the poisoning.” Well, that explained some of it. Cissnei did have quite a soft spot for Fair, but the rest.... Reno shot a look at Tseng to find him staring hard at the papers.
Nibelheim was strictly confidential. There should have been no way for Strife to know about what was inside the reactor if that's what he had been talking about. Fair shouldn't know about what was inside the reactor even. It was impossible for Strife to have found out through ShinRa. Though, if Strife had grown up there and was capable enough to escape one of the fierce dragons that made their home on Mt. Nibel, he might have explored the reactor long before he entered ShinRa's military. On a dare, perhaps, or simple curiosity.
It didn't add up even if that were the case. Somehow Strife had come across too much confidential information to be considered a coincidence. That, and the anomalies that surrounded him, meant that he was potentially dangerous and needed to be watched. It wouldn't be an issue, since Strife spent most of his time with Fair anyway, and they could easily work out a procedure for when the two were not together. They needed to know who Strife came in contact with when he wasn't with the SOLDIER as well.
“If that's everything?” Tseng said finally.
“Well,” Reno drawled, seizing his chance. “There are those rumors going around that Strife is either sleeping with Fair, or Sephiroth.”
Tseng sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “That isn't useful information Reno.”
Reno shrugged flippantly. “I thought it was funny, and you gotta admit it's a cute picture,” he cooed, even as he reached out and tugged one of the photos out from under the stack. Tseng took a moment to stare at it in obvious surprise, lips parted, then shook his head and turned away. Reno grinned wickedly at his back.
With a slight shake of his head, Tseng straightened his shoulders. “Shotgun, I want you to go to Nibelheim and do some discreet inquiries regarding Strife. Reno, Rude, do a little digging and see if Lazard is up to anything, and see if you can find more information on Briant. See if he ever arrived, or if he's just vanished. And Shuriken?” Cissnei looked up at him. “I want you to start keeping an eye on Cloud Strife as well.”
“You think we got trouble, then?” Reno asked curiously. The answer was obvious, they always had trouble, but it was nice to see what Tseng thought of the issue anyway. Reno always did like conspiracies a little too much.
“I hope that all we have is an up and coming new SOLDIER that, with Fair, will finish replacing Genesis and Angeal,” Tseng said carefully. “We can't be too cautious.”
Reno gave him a jaunty salute and turned to leave while Tseng gathered up the scattered documents and photos. “Sure thing. You leave it to us.” As the door hushed shut behind him, Reno remarked, “See this is more interesting than looking for AVALANCHE's hide-y holes.”
Beside him, Rude sighed.
Part 2
Masterlist
Pairing: Established Zack/Aerith, Eventual Sephiroth/Cloud (Subject to possible additions)
Rating: Teen (Subject to change)
Warnings: Violence, Language, Pretty much what you'd expect from FFVII. (Subject to additions)
Genre: Time Travel, AU, Action/Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Romance.
Words: 19,419
Summary: At first it was about preventing tragedy. For Cloud it soon becomes a fight to protect new bonds, tread untrod paths and find happy endings. Second chances aren't always easy in a time where ghosts live and heroes are human.
Chapter 09 - Crisis of Condor
Masterlist
Counter Crisis
by White Mage Koorii & Dragoon-Sama
Chapter 10 - Crisis of Composure
[ μ ] - εуλ 0002 (January 19th)
He didn't know how long he'd been sitting here. Midgar's light quality relied heavily on artificial illumination, and Zack hadn't bothered to turn any of the lights on when he'd gotten home. A part of him was glad that Cloud didn't seem to be back yet, or perhaps he just wasn't in. A part of him wanted to go down to the slums, to seek out Aerith's presence. The rest of him didn't have the energy. His room was dark, the small living room beyond it silent and empty. Zack sat slumped on the floor, his back resting against the bed one leg drawn up to balance the Buster Sword. He pressed his forehead against the cold metal. With one hand he cradled the hilt, and with the other he gripped the blunt edge of the sword. His fingers gripped it so tightly that they hurt.
There were no tears, though his face was twisted in an expression of mixed guilt and anguish. Perhaps he'd have cried if he'd gone to see Aerith, perhaps not. Maybe he just didn't have the energy right then, or maybe he hadn't quite let go of his composure yet. He'd held it together all the way back, gotten himself and the Turk out of the AVALANCHE base before it exploded. His clothes still smelled like the ice and snow, he noted absently, and clenched his teeth together. No matter how he tried to force his expression to relax, he couldn't manage it. The backs of his eyelids were branded with the image of crossed swords jutting from a snowy cliff, and all he could hear was the warped laughing of his mind controlled friends.
“Damn it,” he swore quietly, breath misting against Buster Sword's blade. “Angeal... Sebastian... Essai...”
He'd done it again. He had failed to save more of his friends. How was he supposed to help Cloud when he couldn't seem to help anyone else? How was he going to make sure the world didn't fall into the burning ruin Cloud had predicted--told him about--when he couldn't even stop AVALANCHE from turning two of his friends into mindless puppets?
Zack had no idea, and suddenly it felt as if there was no way he could manage it, for all his bravado. It seemed an impossible task, and even though Cloud had told him about the things he had done for him, would possibly have done, might never do now, hadn't really done because it hadn't been him.... He felt like a pale shadow against those comparisons. Zack clenched his hands tighter, his gloves creaking ominously. “Pull it together, Fair,” he rasped. “Where's your pride as a SOLDIER?”
Where was his pride as a SOLDIER? He didn't think he had it anymore. What did it mean when he failed to be the hero he'd always wanted to be? What did pride as a SOLDIER mean when he was nothing but the arm of a group of people with no morality, no honor, no anything. What did his dreams mean when being a hero meant dirtying himself with ShinRa's wishes? What did his honor mean when he had to compromise it for something that no longer meant anything?
“Angeal...”
He wished his mentor were here, but that was his fault. He hadn't been able to stop Angeal from sacrificing himself, hadn't been able to keep him from dying. He missed Angeal's constant mantra, and no matter how hard he tried to cling to it, it seemed to be slipping away from him right then. He just didn't have the emotional or physical energy to muster his usual optimism.
The room seemed too full of his own doubts, and Zack felt mired in them.
"Zack?"
His throat felt too thick and tight. Zack had never been the sort of man afraid of showing emotion. He kept it together until he could let go, true, but he didn't hide what he felt. He'd cried over Angeal, and felt the hurt of his mentor's loss for months, felt it even now after nearly a year. He hadn't known Essai and Sebastian that well, but they'd still been friends.
"…Zack? Are you okay?" Cloud's voice finally broke through the haze of his spinning thoughts. He hissed slightly when he cracked his forehead against Buster Sword as he jerked his head up, and squinted toward where Cloud stood in the darkness; a deeper shadow against the room beyond his door.
“Cloud?” Zack asked, his voice came out thicker than he'd have liked it, and he winced. Was he okay? No, he wasn't but...Zack gave a rueful bark of laughter. It took more effort than he'd have thought to get his clenched fingers to relax their hold on Buster Sword, but eventually he let go of the blade. It sagged more fully against his thigh, and Zack lifted his hand to press his palm over his eyes. “I...yeah, I'm...” Zack fumbled for words, not wanting to lie, but neither wanting to drag Cloud into his own doubts. He knew how Cloud viewed him, and there was something brittle in him right then that wasn't sure if he could deal with that idealized version of himself. “It...it was just a tough mission. We,” his voice cracked. It might have been embarrassing if Zack had been someone else. “We lost some good men.”
Not just Essai and Sebastian either, they'd lost a lot of men to AVALANCHE. Men that had been under Zack's command. His second mission gone to hell. He was a SOLDIER, this was a military mission and he shouldn't be so bothered by it, but he was. He should expect some losses, even the loss of friends and yet.... His other hand released Buster Sword's hilt, and the sword clanged against the floor as it slid away from him. Zack brought his hand up, tilted his head back, and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He couldn't be the monster that killed things for pleasure and didn't care what got in its way that some people expected SOLDIERs to be.
"It…wasn’t your fault," Cloud said, voice hesitant and quiet. There was a rustle of fabric as he knelt on the floor next to Zack. Zack heard another shift, though nothing came of it and Cloud breathed out slowly. It was loud in the silence. When he spoke again his voice was a little more strong, a little more sure, “You did…everything you could."
“Did I? I know it's not my fault. It's just....” Zack pulled his hands away from his face, expression twisted in one of black anger and grief. He slammed his fist down, hard, on the floor next to him, drew his knees up, and rocked forward to drape his arms around them. “If there's anyone to blame it's them. They're the ones who did this to Essai and Sebastian but....” Zack lifted his hands again, unable to stay still, and tangled his fingers in his hair. The words came pouring out in a rushing, unstoppable torrent, “But I still...I should have been able to do more. If I hadn't taken so long to get there, if I'd tried harder to talk Angeal out of it, been faster in reaching the base after we got separated. If I hadn't attacked them....” It was all so muddled together, so close and aching, that it was almost inseparable. Like it was all one big mass of things that had gone wrong, and Zack's explanation ran together, overlapping, and meshing. He breathed deep, trying to ignore the heaviness behind his eyes. “I told you before that I'm not very good at saving people, Cloud.”
Zack closed his eyes again, seeing Angeal sprawled on the floor, dying from degradation and their fight. Angeal as he entrusted his dreams and honor to him. Essai and Sebastian, their armor stained black like those weird AVALANCHE soldiers', falling to the floor as the fight went out of them alongside the strange control they'd been under. Essai and Sebastian as they told him they were happy to have had a chance to talk to him one more time.
He didn't know if the strikes he'd dealt to any of them had been the killing blows, or if he'd just ushered them along faster to their inevitable demises. It didn't really matter, because he knew he'd had a hand in it. That he hadn't managed to bring them back, and that was enough. If he'd been a better SOLDIER, a better friend, a better student, he'd have managed somehow. A hero would have managed it. It might not be his fault, but...he'd still failed the people he cared about, and that was almost as bad.
"You saved me," Cloud said, voice thick. "You don't…you aren't a failure. Zack, I…"
Zack flinched. He'd been afraid of that, been afraid of Cloud saying something just like that, and right now...right now he just couldn't take it. He couldn't stand being compared and feeling ferociously inadequate against himself of all things. Not when his emotions were raw, and his anger simmering against the loss of more friends, and the part he had played in their deaths. It was something that had been at the back of his mind, hanging over the friendship he shared with Cloud like a grim shadow. “No, I didn't,” he said, voice sounding more harsh than he meant. He lifted his head and glared at Cloud. Maybe he'd saved Cloud during the Mideel mission, maybe it'd be okay if that's what Cloud was talking about but Zack knew it wasn't. “Maybe I would have, maybe I could have, but I didn't, Cloud.”
Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe the Zack that Cloud had known before was just better somehow, or maybe something had happened between now and then that had changed things. Zack didn't know, and he probably never would. That was fine, Zack was fine with being himself, doubts, inadequacies and all. He'd learned something of a new respect for just being himself lately, and there were a thousand vitriolic things pressing against the back of his teeth that he wanted to say. Venomous, hurtful things about whether Cloud saw him at all, or just a ghost. Whether Cloud was friends with him, or a memory.
For a moment it looked as if Cloud was going to say something, but he didn't, and Zack made an impotent sound, forcing back his own words. As upset as he was, as much as it hurt, as much as everything hurt right then, he refused to take it out on Cloud because he understood how haunted he was. Zack knew that he couldn't help it, that it would take time for Cloud to heal, to accept, and that that couldn't be forced. That maybe he'd never be fully recovered, Zack understood that, but...
But it hurt, feeling like he could never live up to what Cloud wanted him to be...like he wasn't enough for his friend.
“I'm not him!” the words exploded from him before he could choke them back. He hadn't realized he'd shoved himself to his feet until he nearly tripped over Buster Sword. Zack reached up pressing a hand to his forehead. “I can't....”
He couldn't deal with this right now on top of everything else.
“I'm going to go out, I'll....” He headed for the door, leaving Buster Sword where it lay. Not even thinking about it. His mind was too scattered, and he had no idea what he wanted, or where to go right then. He had nothing but the burning urge to get away before he said something to make it worse, had nothing but the need for some time to be alone with his hurt, to work through it and.... He suddenly just wanted to see Aerith. “Yeah...I'll see you later Cloud, I'm...just, yeah.” He tossed a little wave over his shoulder, and was out of the room before he could look back and see what his words had done to Cloud, or hear what Cloud would say.
He just...couldn't.
The trip down to the Sector 5 slums seemed to take forever, yet only a few seconds with his inner turmoil. By the time he walked through the scuffed dirt and detritus of the path that lead to the church the rush of anger and hurt had left him. Zack felt drained, and exhausted, and he knew from the time that Aerith wouldn't likely be at the church, but it was still a place to go, a respite. He could go there for awhile, and enjoy the calm serenity that always filled it.
He walked heavily up the wide stone steps, and gently eased open the doors. It was as empty as he'd known it would be, and while he expected Aerith wouldn't begrudge him if he darkened her doorstep, no matter the hour, he couldn't bring himself to bother her. Zack couldn't help but feel he'd worried the people he cared about enough for one night.
The inside of the church lacked the golden quality it normally had, instead it seemed to be bathed in blue-gray shadows. The flowers at the center were still just as pretty as ever, the yellow and white petals glowing softly in the faint tracery of light that came in through the hole in the roof. Zack walked slowly up the aisle between the aged pews, his boots scuffing against the wooden floor.
“I feel terrible,” he said aloud as if that would somehow make it better or confirm it. All it did was tell him how wobbly his voice was, and when he sniffed next and the tears started flowing he was less surprised. He dashed the back of his arm over his eyes, and blinked until he could see straight again. Zack stepped around the pew in the front row and sank down to sit on it, then slumped forward and braced his forearms on his knees. The faint light played off his gloves, highlighting them lightly around the edges of his fingers and palm. It wasn't until a choked sob caught in his throat that he realized the tears were back, and this time he didn't try to stop them, just hunched his shoulders and let them fall.
He never heard the soft creak of the door, nor the hurried footsteps. The first time he noticed Aerith's presence was as she sat down beside him and slid her arms around him. “Zack...” she breathed, then didn't say a word more. She just let him cry as she had done before, and Zack was grateful for it, grateful for the contact, and her warm presence, for her silent support, and the way she simply understood. Grateful that she was there for him somehow, for the light touch of her hand against his back, and her arm around his waist, and when his tears slowed to nothing more than quiet, hitching breaths, he was grateful for the continued silence as she let him compose himself.
When at last he lifted his head and looked up at her, Aerith smiled at him sadly. He noted that her hair was out of its usual braid and fell around her in loose auburn waves though she still wore the pink ribbon he'd bought for her on their first date. Her hand came up to brush against his cheek, and Zack reached up to catch it in his. “I had a feeling,” she said softly, “that...something was wrong. So I came.”
He summoned up a reflection of his usual smile for her, and sunk back against the pew. She slid with him, resting against his side. Her hair tickled his arm. Silence pressed around them, and exhaustion dragged at Zack, his eyes gritty and sore, and his throat raw. “Two of my friends...” he said, then trailed off into a soft little sound.
“They'll be okay,” she said softly. He believed her.
“And Cloud...” he added. “I shouldn't have said that to him.” The guilt hit him hard. He'd been terrible to Cloud, said horrible things to his friend.
He heard her exhale, could imagine her slight smile. “That will be okay too, whatever it is.” He believed that too, he always believed her.
“I'm exhausted,” he added. He lifted his hand and smoothed it over his face. He still needed to talk to Cloud, to tell him he was sorry for snapping at him. To tell him he hadn't meant to be an ass, and... and make sure he hadn't hurt him too badly. He needed to....
Aerith straightened at his side and tugged at his arm. “Then go to sleep, silly.”
“Simple as that?” he asked, letting her tug him over, letting her direct him to rest his head on her thighs, and letting himself relax as she threaded her fingers into his hair, then traced them over his brow and along his jawline.
“Simple as that. Before you know it, it'll be morning, and everything will look brighter.”
Zack chuckled, her other hand still held captive in his, and closed his eyes a smile lingering on his lips. “It already is.”
She tugged on his ear in slight reprimand, then combed her fingers through his hair again. Yeah, he would need to fix things in the morning, maybe talk to Cloud right, and explain some things to him. Maybe he'd tell him more about Angeal tomorrow, and maybe even about Sebastian and Essai. He didn't have to listen to confidentiality where Cloud was concerned, didn't need to care about ShinRa's bullshit. He would build his own reason to be proud of being a SOLDIER, find his own way of honor, and he already had a new dream.
And speaking of that new dream.... “Aerith,” he said quietly. She hummed a soft query. “I can't tell you right now, it's...most of it isn't mine to tell but.... One day things are going to get real bad and I'm going to tell you what's going on. That way if things turn out wrong you'll be prepared.”
Her fingers paused on his temple for a second before resuming. “I understand.”
Just in case his dream didn't work out; his dream of all of them being happy together, and alive.
Cloud had given that to him.
As he drifted off into an exhausted sleep under Aerith's gentle touch, Zack drowsily decided that he'd thank Cloud for that in the morning.
-
Zack's words had been like a physical blow, had been enough to make him flinch. Guilt, heavy and dark and familiar, clawed through Cloud's mind as he sat alone in the dark. Where before the lack of light had seemed out of place for the normally upbeat Zack, now it seemed suitable with his friend's absence. Even though he knew it was his fault, knew his words had hurt something inside Zack, Cloud still strained his ears, hoping, wishing he would hear Zack come back. He felt lost, and had no idea what to do to fix the situation. Normally he would look to Zack for guidance, but that wasn't possible now.
Somehow, everything had gone wrong in the matter of a few days. Cloud should have known better, had experienced it often enough to know that when things were looking up, that was when everything fell apart. He should have been prepared, should have expected it…but he'd never expected it to come from Zack. Zack was Cloud's constant, the protection he fell back on even when his friend had been dead and gone and all Cloud had were fractured recollections from a mako addled delirium. Even then there had been others-Aerith, Tifa, all of his friends-now there was no one Cloud could turn to.
A vision of Sephiroth flitted across his mind, and Cloud snarled in anger. There was no reason for him to look to that man for anything. The recent encounter had merely been a passing fancy for Sephiroth and Cloud was as always reading too much into things.
He didn't know how long he knelt there in the dark, abandoned room, eyes staring sightlessly at the discarded Buster Sword. Eventually, he stood slowly, muscles protesting the movement after so long in one position. He picked up the sword carefully, hefting the familiar weight, remembering a time he had called it his. It had never really been his, though. Cloud hadn't remembered, had never known the depth of memories behind the blade. He couldn’t cherish it the way Zack could…did.
He brought it out to the living room, setting it in its holder on the wall. Zack would be upset, if he thought it had just been left carelessly on the floor. Numbly, Cloud walked into his own room…the spare room, looking at the meager pile of stuff that belonged to him. Not to him, though. To the old him who Cloud didn't remember and could never be again. He turned, leaving it all behind. It never belonged to him. This life had never belonged to him.
Cloud shouldn't have stayed. He had fallen prey to his own broken dreams, of a Zack who was alive, of Aerith, of Sephiroth who was once again the hero Cloud had admired. There was no place for him here. What he should have done from the beginning was destroy the source, find Jenova, Hojo, get rid of them all even if it turned him into a fugitive from ShinRa. That wasn't anything new, after all.
He paused in the doorway to the apartment, one hand resting lightly on the doorjamb though he didn't look back inside. He knew what he had to do now, but even if it hurt, even if Zack didn't want to see him, or couldn’t forgive Cloud for trying to force him to be someone he wasn't, Cloud had to apologize to Zack. It wasn't anything he was good at, the words always seemed inadequate, but once again his promise to Tifa drove him on. He'd promised to do better. Without further thought, he set out to find his friend.
The church was still and quiet in the pre-dawn air, the world colored a washed-out gray that wasn't darkness but wasn't illumination either. Cloud hesitated at the foot of the path up to the old building. There had been no doubt for him, not really, at where Zack would go at a time like this. The church was a place of respite, of comfort, and had served that purpose for Cloud in the past…future. The difference was that Zack didn't just have ghosts to return to, the empty pews full of fading memories and broken promises.
The trip down into the slums had been a blur. Cloud had walked in that daze that had always bordered on the surreal, like the times when Aerith would appear in his exhausted mind, always just out of sight, just out of reach, but still warmly there to offer her comfort. He had wished, for one selfish moment, that she would come to him and tell him not to leave. Cloud didn't want to leave, not really, but he didn't want to keep causing grief for Zack like this.
She hadn't appeared of course. Aerith wasn't dead in this time, didn't even really know Cloud at all. Loneliness had crept in on Cloud, though he pushed the feeling back as much as he could. His self-imposed isolation had been painful, the desire to see his friends always counteracted by the heavy guilt and grief that had consumed him. Cloud had hurt his friends because of that, which only added to his regrets. Now, at least, his absence might cause some relief for his friends. He tried to make himself believe that, ignoring the mocking thoughts that told him he wasn't needed here.
The wooden doors of the church creaked slightly as Cloud pushed open one leaf, slipping silently into the vaulted interior. Shadows clung to the walls and ceiling, but down the center of the aisle, Aerith's flowers glowed silvery in the meager light. The sight was familiar to Cloud, one he'd seen after many sleepless nights spent in the church. He walked forward slowly, boots scraping lightly on the wooden floor as he tried to fortify himself for the confrontation he knew lay ahead.
Zack wasn't immediately visible, but Cloud could see the familiar pink ribbon in Aerith's hair where she sat in the front row of pews. As he got closer, she turned her head. Her eyes caught his as she offered a welcoming smile. Cloud tried to stop the warm feeling that gave him. If he lingered too long here, he knew he would lose his nerve, be unable to leave even if the world went to hell again because of it. When the reclined form on the bench next to Aerith came into view Cloud paused. He was intruding once again.
Aerith smiled at him as if telling him she'd understand if he chose to sit down or if he turned and left without another word. There was nothing accusing in the expression; there never was, Cloud knew. Not in hers, and not in Zack's either. He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting against the urge to turn and run away again, to not face Zack's angry, hurt expression.
A vision of Tifa's warm, worried eyes filled his mind, a memory of her hopeful tone as she asked one more promise from him, not pushing, not expecting, and he knew he couldn't fail her again, couldn't break another promise he'd made for her. Cloud opened his eyes and stepped forward, sitting gingerly on the bench next to Aerith. Zack appeared to be asleep, completely unaware of his presence.
They sat in silence for a while. Cloud stared sightlessly at the field of flowers in front of him. He was loathe to break the peace, wished the problems would just vanish in dawn's light like the clinging shadows. He knew better, but wished it all the same.
Aerith let out a faint breath that might have been a sigh, or maybe something else entirely. She brought a hand up from where it covered Zack's, resting lightly over her knee, and touched Cloud's arm lightly. “How are you doing, Cloud?” she asked softly. The question was incongruously normal for how horrible Cloud felt.
He blinked as he pulled himself out of his daze. It hadn't been obvious, but Cloud was now realizing how tired he really was. He hadn't slept at all, and had just returned from that confusing and exhilarating mission. He'd been looking forward to talking to Zack, to try and figure out what Sephiroth's actions had meant, what it might mean for the future. Walking in on a miserable Zack hadn't been part of the plan and Cloud had failed at that too. But Aerith wasn't judging him or accusing him. If she even thought he had anything to do with Zack's current upset, she obviously didn’t condemn him for that. Cloud was thrown once again by Aerith's understanding nature and patience. It felt like something he didn't deserve when he couldn't even be truthful as to who he was and why she meant so much to him. Once again he was hiding behind a mask of someone else, only this time he was aware of the lie.
"I…made a mistake," Cloud said finally. His voice sounded muffled, lost in the high ceiling and still air. He risked a small, sideways look at Zack who hadn't stirred. Zack's face was relaxed in sleep, though Cloud could see the faint trace of tears. Guilt swelled in him again, all too aware of his inability to offer comfort when his friend had needed it.
“We all make mistakes sometimes,” she said with a small warm smile. “You just have to try and fix the ones that are fixable, and learn from them.” She paused, hand stilling where it was smoothing over Zack's hair and looked more directly at Cloud. Aerith ducked her head down, auburn hair slithering loosely over her shoulder. “Do you...want to talk about it?”
Cloud clenched his hands together in his lap and the leather creaked softly in protest. He turned his head slightly, almost afraid she would vanish like his visions of her always had. Aerith remained solid, her green gaze catching his easily. The reassurance that she was still here helped him relax, though his emotions were still in turmoil.
"What if…what if you can't fix them? What if they…hurt others?" Cloud asked. He wasn't sure anymore if he was talking about his slip up with Zack, or if he meant when he'd failed to save her, or even if he meant when he'd failed to stop Sephiroth. There were so many times in his life that his failures had hurt others. Learn from his mistakes? He learned every time how much they hurt, but it seemed he was unable to prevent further tragedies from happening anyway. "How…how do you accept another chance?" Cloud dropped his gaze back to his tightly clenched hands, his voice a hoarse whisper.
“Then you just pick yourself up and keep on trying,” Zack mumbled, voice rough with sleep. “And second chances don't come along that often, so you better grab them when you can, and make the best of it.” Cloud nearly choked at the unexpected interruption, and he flinched slightly as he realized Zack had finally woken up. Even before Zack's optimistic words reached him, Cloud knew it was too late for him to run away. It had been an impulsive reaction, one he knew Zack would never have stood for if Cloud had tried to go through with it. Unlike Tifa's unobtrusive attention that prevented her from following him when he chose to vanish, Zack would probably have dropped everything to hunt him down. “Hey... Cloud?” Zack said after a moment longer. “I'm really sorry for what I said, I.... Well, I didn't mean to snap at you. And, Cloud? Thanks.”
Cloud had no idea what to do with the apology. There was no reason for Zack to be sorry. All Cloud had done was make the situation worse, after all. Even more baffling was the thanks. Cloud was left bewildered even as the weak dawn light broke through the underside of the plate's constant gloom. He tried to formulate some sort of response, but found himself unable to as the confusion and guilt swirled into a leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"I don't…understand," Cloud said finally, looking at Zack helplessly. "I didn't mean to compare…" he trailed off as his gaze trailed to Aerith guiltily. "I'm...sorry…."
Cloud frowned down at his hands again, aware he was messing this up too. He wanted to deny Zack's accusations of earlier, that he'd been comparing his friend to the Zack that had died for him. It hadn't occurred to Cloud to try to differentiate the two; they were both Zack, both his friend, both people he owed a great deal to. But it was true that they were very different people, even for being the same person.
Cloud's patchy memory had created a persona from the scraps of Zack that he could remember, but that wasn't the same as spending the day doing missions together, relaxing over a meal in their apartment, visiting the slums to see Aerith, or just to find something to pass the time. The sacrifice the other Zack had made would always be Cloud's burden to bear, one he was both thankful for and resigned to never being able to repay. He had thought he was doing so here and now, that by ensuring this Zack was happy and alive that it would somehow make up for the stolen years lost to the future.
In doing so Cloud had dishonored both the memory of his fallen friend and hurt his new friend without realizing it. Cloud had tried to paint Zack as a hero and push that image onto him without considering the pressure and expectations that had put on Zack. It made him feel slightly ill that he'd done that to Zack when Cloud himself had suffered from trying to live up to other's expectations.
"I'm sorry…" he repeated more quietly still, his voice barely a whisper. It was an apology to his friend's memory, which he had foolishly forgotten in his own selfishness.
With a heavy sigh Zack swung his legs off the pew, sat up, and twisted toward Cloud and Aerith. He rested one arm on the back of the pew, and reached around Aerith toward Cloud with the other. “C'mere.” Zack ignored Aerith's muffled sound of surprise as he tugged Cloud closer to the both of them, trapping her between them. “Now stop making that face, Cloud. I'm sorry that I snapped at you because I know what you're going through. Don't look at me like that, it's true, and I'll tell you all about it later. I shouldn't have let my emotions get the better of me either.”
Cloud succumbed to the sudden embrace with only a slight widening of the eyes. He'd rather expected the tactile response from Zack, already used to his friend's clingy nature. That was, he supposed, the entire point. He knew this Zack, knew his quirks, his likes, his dislikes, whereas before Zack had been a savior, an ideal, an untouchable dream. No matter what happened in this life it would never change the sacrifice that Zack had died for, but that didn't mean Cloud couldn't find new happiness with this Zack.
Aerith wrapped an arm around each of them, apparently surrendering to the group hug with good humor. Aerith's arm around him was also a new comfort. Cloud had known Aerith, could remember the time spent with her clearly despite his own identity issues at the time. Now that he'd met this younger Aerith, not touched by as much tragedy, he could see the differences in them. The future Aerith had acted a lot like Zack in a way. Perhaps that was her way of keeping his memory alive after he'd gone missing from her life.
Even so there had still been a distance between them. Cloud's own twisted perceptions had seen a possible life together with her, for a while at least. Those same delusions had been perceptible to Aerith on some level, he knew. She could see the ghost of her first love in him, because in a very real way that's exactly what had happened. But she couldn’t touch Cloud, because he wasn't there at all.
Here, her arm was warm, real, and there for him. There was a connection between the three of them that Cloud wasn't sure he'd ever experienced before, and certainly hadn't since Nibelheim. With Tifa, even though she'd wished for more his own guilt had forced him to keep his distance from her offered warmth. The closest he'd come to this acceptance was from Marlene and Denzel. The orphan in particular had touched Cloud's heart, seeming to be a gift from Aerith to help him heal. Cloud relaxed into Aerith's side, her hair tickling his face as he closed his eyes. The cold fear that had plagued him since Zack had walked out the door was fading and Cloud marveled at the warmth that took its place.
“You can't help it, and I understand that. It's why I didn't bring it up. I'm not going to be mad at you for that.” Zack leaned back and ruffled Cloud's hair. Normally he found it annoying, but this time it was a welcome comfort. “And I don't think you realize how much you've helped me just by being friends with me, Cloud. You're my second chance, buddy, and don't you forget that, okay? For what it's worth apology accepted. Full forgiveness given, even. So long as you give us a smile then we can move on. Is that a deal?"
Even if he'd wanted to, Cloud couldn't help the quiet chuckle at Zack's characteristically flippant dismissal of Cloud's guilt. It was something he would probably never win at when it came to his friend, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Aerith glanced between the two of them, then nodded. “Good,” she said. “I'm not sure what I'd have done if you two decided to be immature about this.”
Zack winked at her. “Probably have banned us from visiting until we made up.” She shook her head at him then extracted herself from between them. As soon as she stood up she wobbled and gave a little gasp of surprise. Zack snatched her before she could fall, eyes wide with surprised dismay. “Aerith, are you okay?”
Aerith winced and rubbed at her leg. “My leg must have fallen asleep from you laying on it,” she admitted. “Oooh, ow.”
As she sank back to sit between them again, Zack's expression transformed into one of utter sheepishness. “Aerith! Why didn't you wake me up. Or just shove me off!” Zack only looked more dismayed when she took one look at him and descended into a fit of girlish giggles. By the time she got herself back under control, Zack looked resigned and amused.
“It's okay,” Aerith gasped. She wiped tears of mirth from her cheeks. “I didn't mind, but don't you have somewhere you need to go? And I need to see to the flowers....”
Zack sighed faintly and rolled his eyes, then tugged her close to drop a kiss on her head. “Yeah, I...” he glanced by her to Cloud and gave him a wry smile. “I didn't bother to report when I got back last night, so I need to go and talk to Lazard, Veld, and Tseng.” He cleared his throat and gave Cloud an uneasy look, which cleared away into determination. “After I take care of work for the day, we'll talk, okay Cloud? There's some things I want to tell you about.” He paused, looking between the two, then stood up and propped his fists on his hips. “I'm the only one who got any sleep last night, aren't I?” His shoulders slumped, hands sliding off his hips to dangle before he lifted one to brush through his wild hair. “Aw, geeze, now I just feel even worse...”
"Oh, you probably needed it the most," Aerith said, tutting as she ran a hand through her mussed hair. "Cloud and I look this pretty naturally. You need all the help you can get." She stood up, rubbing her leg for a moment before straightening completely. Cloud rose too, ready to give her a helping hand if she needed it. Though from Zack's hovering he doubted he would get the chance. Her green eyes focused on him and she reached out a hand to touch him lightly on the shoulder. "You are okay, right Cloud? Just remember he's a big puppy; all bark, no bite, but lots of slobber," She tapped Zack lightly on the chest with her fist. Cloud gave her a wan smile, his exhaustion shining through as the emotional crisis passed.
"I will be," he affirmed, nodding at Zack.
“I don't slobber!” Zack yelped, then huffed. “Man, not you too. It was bad enough that apparently Angeal used to call me a puppy.” Shaking his head, he sidled around her and tossed an arm over Cloud's shoulders. “You make sure you get some sleep Aerith and I'll take Cloud back home.” As he tugged Cloud off with him Aerith's merry laughter chased after them. Zack muttered, “C'mon, let's go. I need to get cleaned up before I go visit the Turks.”
Cloud nodded, giving a half shrug to dislodge Zack's arm and making walking easier. Idly, he remembered how he'd expected the night to end in nothing more challenging than bed, possibly food if he was feeling ambitious. A look at Zack's face reassured him that his friend was feeling much better, and not just putting up a front. Whatever had caused Zack's grief, Cloud would listen to his friend and offer what comfort he could. If that wasn't enough, Cloud would just have to do more until it was enough.
"I think," he said, stifling a yawn, "I'll wait at the apartment. If that's okay?" The query was rhetorical, since Zack didn't need him for checking in with his commander. While Zack was gone, Cloud would try to catch a little bit of sleep and then they would talk. Somehow, it would all turn out alright, and even now, looking back on it under the light of the morning sun and in the face of Zack's acceptance...the idea of running away seemed utterly absurd.
-
The heavy clomp of boots was the only warning the two Turks had before the SOLDIER 1st came rushing down the hall. The two took a single step aside just before imminent collision and turned to watch him disappear. “Whoa! Watch it you maniac!” Reno hollered. He cast a glance at Rude out of the corner of one eye and tilted his chin up to indicate the corner the SOLDIER had disappeared around. “You think getting run over by a SOLDIER is better or worse than a getting stepped on by a behemoth?”
“...Wasn't that Fair?”
Reno reached up and scratched under the strap of his goggles. “It looked like his sword,” he agreed, then waved the armful of manila folders under his arm at the end of the hall in dismissal. “Eh, who cares. We got something to do.”
Reno was in a bad mood so at least he took pleasure in the fact that Fair had looked as harried as he felt. None of the Turks were in a particularly good mood after Veld had been dismissed and Heidegger of all people put in control. Heidegger didn't care about anything but his army, and he sure as shit didn't have a clue how to handle the Turks. At least they had Tseng to run some damage control, but it just wasn't the same without the director. Reno shoved his hands back in his pockets and proceeded to slouch down the hallway again.
The door to central command opened just as the pair reached it and Reno found himself face to face with another pair of Turks. He recognized the man who'd opened the door as Guns, and the brunette standing behind him with her arms crossed and a frown on her face had the be one of the new recruits. Reno stared at Guns who stared back at him for several seconds. “Reno,” he greeted after a moment, backing down and stepping aside enough to let them through. “Rude.”
“Guns,” Reno drawled. “Rookie.” Rude gave the pair a nod as he followed him in. The brunette frowned at him, but didn't say anything as she followed Guns out. Before the door closed completely, a quiet set of footsteps announced another arrival. Reno didn't bother to look back as she came in. “So, who're you today?”
There was a pause from Cissnei as she considered Reno's snide question then answered with a quiet, “Shuriken.”
Tseng stood at the head of the room near a bank of computer terminals. The large screens that filled up three of the four walls cast everything into a flickering blue green glow. The ShinRa logo was displayed on each and every one. There was one more Turk there, standing near the right side screens. She had her long dirty blonde hair in its usual high ponytail. Shotgun nodded in acknowledgment a second before Tseng turned away from her to look at the three of them curiously.
“Reno, Rude...Shuriken,” Tseng greeted. Reno thought he looked tired and a little drawn. Having to cow-tow to that oaf Heidegger probably wasn't easy. Reno didn't envy Tseng's higher position on the food chain right then. “What can I do for you?”
Reno sauntered forward and tossed the folders down on one of the terminals. A slew of printed, awkward photographs spilled out. A few drifted to the floor. “I was wondering if you took the time to hear the latest rumors,” Reno said, then smirked. It was sharp and wolfish. He watched Tseng look down, frown, and pick up one of the images. They weren't the best quality, clearly taken from a cellphone, blurry and tilted as they were, but the image they displayed was still the same.
Cloud Strife locked in battle with Sephiroth himself, and clearly keeping up.
Tseng stared contemplatively at the photo in his hand then let his eyes roam over the spread of partially displayed images scattered across the terminal. "These are reliable?" Tseng asked, flicking the photo back onto the pile of its brethren.
Reno's smirked transformed into a full on wicked grin. “Oh you can bet your ass these are reliable. Most of these photos come from different sources. We have around...what was it, Rude? Twenty witnesses? Infantrymen, SOLDIERS, and some scientists." He reached down and pulled out several of the long distance shots, clearly taken from the base of Fort Condor. "And all of them are saying the same thing. They didn't know the kid's name, but they all saw some blond in a trooper uniform going toe-to-toe with Sephiroth.”
He stepped forward and reached out and flipped open the folder. Reno shoved aside the collection of photos to reveal the paperwork underneath. “I took the liberty of pulling Strife's files and having a nose around. There's not much there. Average kid, got a bit of a track record for getting into fights. We have a file on him ourselves courtesy of Shotgun,” he nodded to the woman, “from the mission to escort Doctor Rayleigh awhile back.” It was interesting that Cloud had been involved in that, a mission that involved AVALANCHE and their mysterious black armored soldiers out to steal a disc full of highly confidential research about the SOLDIER program. Really, other than his enrollment in the Army and a few flags in his files that was the first incident that he'd pinged the Turks radar. Reno picked up a particular sheet of paper, and leaned forward, smirk firmly in place. “But, see, that's not the most interesting part....”
The silence lingered as Reno gave in to the need for a little dramatic effect. No one seemed willing to play up to it, no one leaned in, no intent attention. Nothing. Man, what a bunch of killjoys. He wasn't willing to give it up though, so it stayed there until it just became awkward. Finally, Rude cleared his throat. “...Reno....”
“Yeah, yeah,” Reno huffed. “I'm getting to it.” Reno brandished the print out. “According to Strife's medical files he was examined by one of Hojo's lab assistants after he got back to Midgar in December.”
Tseng gave him a blasé look. “I fail to see how that is interesting.”
“Oh, but it is,” Reno crowed. “See, this particular assistant was suddenly transferred to the space program and headed west two days after examining Strife.” Reno straightened up and looked at the paper, practically preening where he stood. “Name of Ellis Briant...sounds kinda familiar, like that guy that was under suspicion for letting some of Hojo's specimens loose. Not to mention he was a geneticist, didn't have any interest or know-how in rocket science until then.”
"You were also on that mission," Tseng said, looking to Cissnei. "You were able to observe Strife after his accident? Your report mentioned he suffered from obvious signs of mako poisoning. Yet a medical staff cleared him a few days later, and then was reassigned immediately after."
Tseng frowned at the obvious sign of tampering, and Reno grinned slyly. He could almost see Tseng's train of thought. After all it was one thing to learn that someone in ShinRa wanted to cover up information about the trooper, but it was another to leave an obvious trail. Normally such procedures were handled by the Turks who ensured that any trail left behind would lead to dead ends. Who had ordered it, then? The most likely candidate was Lazard, but why? What was his purpose? A trooper fell into contact with diluted mako and is suddenly able to keep up with Sephiroth. Perhaps the medical exam had come up with an anomaly the SOLDIERs were trying to exploit. Each branch of ShinRa liked to keep their cards close to their chest, so if Lazard had discovered a potential asset he could exploit, it made sense that he would rush to cover up the evidence.
"Who has had contact with Strife? Before and after the Mideel mission," Tseng asked abruptly, fixing his subordinates with a sharp look. Their first order of business was to collect as much information as possible, and if there was one thing Turks were good at, it was finding out other people's business.
Reno shrugged. “I've seen him twice since the Mideel mission. When we went in to save their asses, and again in mid December, but I wouldn't really call it contact. Rude's had more contact with him than I have.”
Rude nodded. “Once as they reported in right after their return from the mission. He was with Fair and Sephiroth when they reported to Lazard.”
Tseng raised an eyebrow at that. "He looked well?" Reno looked too. The kid had to be made of some tough stuff to be up and about after the kind of treatment the report gave. It wasn't everyday someone took a nose dive into some mako, and the SOLDIERs didn't seem to think too highly of their little showers.
“...A little uncomfortable but otherwise healthy.”
“Man,” Reno griped, “you never told me about this!”
“...It didn't seem important.”
"And?" Tseng interrupted before Reno could lament on his partner's failure to communicate.
Rude lifted his shoulders in a faint shrug. “That's all.”
“What about the 24th?” Reno demanded. “Strife was there.”
“We didn't say anything.”
“When was the Mideel mission?” Shotgun interrupted before things could take a further tangent.
Tseng flipped through some of the papers Reno had brought in, clearly double checking his information. “They were dispatched on the 10th of December 01, and had to be pulled out the next day.”
“Once before, and once after, then,” she said thoughtfully. “With the Rayleigh Mission and during the Festival.”
"Good. Did you notice an obvious change in appearance or behavior?" Tseng asked, not looking up as he wrote a quick note in the margin of the report. Reno leaned forward to peer at the notation thoughtfully. A change in behavior could be caused by mako, but would more likely be caused by whatever the Director was up to with Strife. While not as extreme as the ShinRa scientists, even Lazard fell prey to using his SOLDIERs in experiments. If Shotgun could give them a baseline....
Shotgun remained quiet for several seconds, gaze turned upward in contemplation. “While I didn't have much time to observe him he did seem a little more...reserved than before. The Cloud Strife I met before was a little brash and idealistic. He refused to back down and flee the scene when AVALANCHE showed up, and instead insisted on aiding in combat and protecting his comrades and charge to the end. He also refused to let Doctor Rayleigh be harmed to protect the disc she was carrying.” She paused again, lips parted as she wavered over a bit of information, then frowned. “He did display a surprising ability with a sword for a trooper and managed to wield one of the large SOLDIER-type swords the black AVALANCHE soldiers wield.” She smiled wryly and shrugged, ponytail bouncing. “He said he was desperate.”
Tseng's gaze turned back to the photos still scattered haphazardly and Reno gave a low whistle. Now that same random trooper was exchanging blows with ShinRa's best.
"The mystery deepens," Reno muttered to Rude out of the side of his mouth. Rude elbowed him in the side, but Reno ignored it.
While it wasn't entirely unusual for Infantrymen to be familiar with swords, and some even did pretty damn well-they were usually the ones looked at for SOLDIER recruitment-and it wasn't unusual for a desperate man to be able to pull off feats he never could normally.... It could also work as a cover up for something else. Something shadier. Was he an AVALANCHE spy? It was a possibility, however unlikely. If something had changed in their plans for Strife to stop being subtle.... It almost made sense.
Where Zack came into this was another piece of the puzzle. The SOLDIER was overly friendly, as they well knew, so it was possible it was merely a coincidence that Strife was suddenly closely involved with him. Turks didn't tend believe in coincidences, though, and with that thought Reno gave a self-satisfied grin. When Tseng looked up at him, Reno didn't bother to hide it or make an effort to look relaxed or bored, as was his usual style. For once he couldn't contain the restless energy. This was going to be good.
Before Reno had a chance to interject, Cissnei's quiet voice piped up, “I'd never met him before Mideel, but...he said some rather strange things. I disregarded them because of the obvious mako poisoning.” There was a faintly apologetic tone to her voice, Reno noted.
Tseng shot her a stern look. "There seems to be a great deal of 'disregarding' going on lately." They all recognized the rebuke for what is was. "Explain, please," he ordered, flicking through the papers again. He stopped on what Reno recognized as Cissnei's report for the aforementioned mission. It had been a standard report considering the disaster that mission had been. That alone should have been suspicious.
Cissnei crossed her arms over her breasts and gripped her upper arms. “Well... Zack got him talking about his hometown, Nibelheim, and Cloud said that...he'd nearly been eaten by a dragon?” She frowned slightly, then looked up. “And that the experiments were loose. He seemed to know the Ancient, too. Now that I think about it Zack seemed surprised about that. I'd thought maybe Zack had just mentioned her to him or something, and the rest just seemed to be easily explained away that he was rambling about separate instances under the poisoning.” Well, that explained some of it. Cissnei did have quite a soft spot for Fair, but the rest.... Reno shot a look at Tseng to find him staring hard at the papers.
Nibelheim was strictly confidential. There should have been no way for Strife to know about what was inside the reactor if that's what he had been talking about. Fair shouldn't know about what was inside the reactor even. It was impossible for Strife to have found out through ShinRa. Though, if Strife had grown up there and was capable enough to escape one of the fierce dragons that made their home on Mt. Nibel, he might have explored the reactor long before he entered ShinRa's military. On a dare, perhaps, or simple curiosity.
It didn't add up even if that were the case. Somehow Strife had come across too much confidential information to be considered a coincidence. That, and the anomalies that surrounded him, meant that he was potentially dangerous and needed to be watched. It wouldn't be an issue, since Strife spent most of his time with Fair anyway, and they could easily work out a procedure for when the two were not together. They needed to know who Strife came in contact with when he wasn't with the SOLDIER as well.
“If that's everything?” Tseng said finally.
“Well,” Reno drawled, seizing his chance. “There are those rumors going around that Strife is either sleeping with Fair, or Sephiroth.”
Tseng sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “That isn't useful information Reno.”
Reno shrugged flippantly. “I thought it was funny, and you gotta admit it's a cute picture,” he cooed, even as he reached out and tugged one of the photos out from under the stack. Tseng took a moment to stare at it in obvious surprise, lips parted, then shook his head and turned away. Reno grinned wickedly at his back.
With a slight shake of his head, Tseng straightened his shoulders. “Shotgun, I want you to go to Nibelheim and do some discreet inquiries regarding Strife. Reno, Rude, do a little digging and see if Lazard is up to anything, and see if you can find more information on Briant. See if he ever arrived, or if he's just vanished. And Shuriken?” Cissnei looked up at him. “I want you to start keeping an eye on Cloud Strife as well.”
“You think we got trouble, then?” Reno asked curiously. The answer was obvious, they always had trouble, but it was nice to see what Tseng thought of the issue anyway. Reno always did like conspiracies a little too much.
“I hope that all we have is an up and coming new SOLDIER that, with Fair, will finish replacing Genesis and Angeal,” Tseng said carefully. “We can't be too cautious.”
Reno gave him a jaunty salute and turned to leave while Tseng gathered up the scattered documents and photos. “Sure thing. You leave it to us.” As the door hushed shut behind him, Reno remarked, “See this is more interesting than looking for AVALANCHE's hide-y holes.”
Beside him, Rude sighed.
Part 2
Masterlist