[FF7-AC] Empire: Chapter 13
[FF7-AC] Empire: Chapter 13
Rating PG-13 (Safe for work) - Status: In progress - Chapter 13/? - Warnings: None
Characters/Pairings: Tseng/Rufus, Cast
Fic summary: Post-AC, barreling down the road to the reconstruction of Shinra Company. A Hero, a President, a new world, and the politics that draw them all into a tangled web beyond all ability to forecast.
Chapter Summary: In which there are explosions yet again, helicopters, and unexpected guests.
A/N: My writing quality seems to be at an all time low ): On the bright side, have sheer quantity to make up for it? 5,500+ words.
Total word count for fic: 45,000+
Progress: Lame.
How much more: Tons.
“Cloud, I’ve never ridden a bike before.”
A pause. A long look. Despite himself, Reeve still felt a flush of embarrassment.
“It’s not too hard,” Cloud said. “Just hold on to me. It’s like riding a chocobo.”
“Oh.”
It was probably not a good time to tell Cloud that he hadn’t ridden a chocobo before either. He’d always meant to learn - cars and other forms of motor vehicles were few and far between and increasingly difficult to justify in these times. But there were always a few available for use by the WRO’s chairman, and then there was always something urgent demanding his attention, something that warranted the speed, the efficiency...
And maybe the ride would have been less terrifying, he reflected, if Cloud hadn’t been going at a hundred miles an hour over rocky terrain, not braking for turns. They went over a rock and Reeve’s teeth snapped together hard enough to jar his brains. The next moment they were over something else and for a moment Fenrir’s wheels were off the ground... and the slam when they hit the earth all but knocked the breath from his lungs.
The wind whipped past him, catching onto the ends of his coat. Gravel became tiny projectile weapons, slicing past any inch of exposed skin, sand clawing into his eyes before he squeezed them shut and trusted Cloud to know what he was doing. Dirt exploded as something larger than a gunshot torched the ground beside them, and Cloud stamped even harder on the gas.
Shiva, Reeve thought. This needs to hurry up and be over...
It was dirt and open grass out here, far too exposed, as they raced away from the burning wreckage of Junon. Reeve was no combatant, but he could guess well enough that they needed to get out of sight, go to ground, for they couldn’t hope to keep outrunning any form of pursuit. Fenrir was swift, but there were vehicles faster than a bike-
And there. Through the howling of the wind in his ears ... he caught the edges of a familiar sound that he had almost completely disregarded before. Throb, it went, like the beat of his heart, heavy but rapid. Throb throb throb. A sound that almost seemed to fade into the background, and for a moment Reeve couldn’t imagine what it was-- then Cloud swore, and the Reeve’s eyes flew open even as a spotlight drenched them in sudden, blinding light.
“Helicopter!” he yelled, unnecessarily, and Cloud nodded, and leaned forward. Fenrir’s engine roared, and the bike leapt forward, wheels flinging up dust. “We’ll cut through the forest to throw them off,” Cloud yelled back, tugging goggles into place over his eyes. Reeve, with no such luxury, just put his head down and nodded his mutual assent. Words felt useless, felt like they were ripped from his mouth and cast aside in their wake, too slow for this high speed race for their lives.
The light kept on them, following them steadily, even as Cloud swerved and took the bike over the edge of a small rise. For one terrifying moment, they were suspended in thin air, and Reeve felt his grip on Cloud tighten, bracing for the -- slam -- as they hit the ground.
“Don’t...” he said, through gritted teeth, feeling like all the air had been knocked out of him.
“Don’t what?” Cloud yelled back.
Reeve mentally weighed the advantages of not being splattered in pieces across the hillside against the minor discomfort of a rough bike ride, and shook his head. “...Nevermind.”
Overhead, the helicopter continued to follow them, its pace and movements almost leisurely, like a shark stalking its prey. The thud of its blades sounded like death knells. Something crackled, and Reeve glanced up despite himself, squinting as his fringe was whipped into his eyes. But the spotlight blinded him, made it impossible to see their pursuers. Only a matter of time, he figured, before the bullets came raining down, and the shadow, the protection of the distant trees seemed just too far.
“Reeve Tuesti!” a voice rang out, amplified over loud hailers. “We know it’s you! Surrender, and we’ll spare your life!”
There was no reaction from Cloud except to accelerate.
“Stop the bike immediately, or we shoot!”
“Cloud…”
Faster still. The approaching line of trees was nothing but a dark shadow, growing bigger with painful slowness.
The first burst of gunfire was the warning burst. It went right over their heads, slamming into the ground right before them. But Cloud had anticipated this, it seemed, because he swerved, shot down a slope and switched directions at the bottom, heading off at a 45 degree angle from their original trajectory.
The spotlight lost them for a moment, and there were a handful of mad moments as it went past them, doubled back, lost them, caught them again. Reeve had to shut his eyes, half blinded by the beam, and nearly fell from the bike as another rain of gunfire hit the ground mere inches behind them.
“Hold tight,” Cloud said.
“Who is it?” Reeve demanded uselessly. Cloud only shook his head, and took another turn, and they were in the dark once more.
The trees were closer now, and Reeve dared to hope-when the sound of a second set of helicopter blades joined the first, and he glanced up in dread. “Cloud, to the left!”
Cloud muttered and acknowledgement, and wrenched the bike to the side, even as a explosion tore through the ground next to them. One hair’s breadth closer…
“Missile,” Reeve gasped, choking on the dust clouds. “They used a missile…”
“They’re serious,” Cloud answered grimly. “They don’t care about keeping you alive.”
Who could it be? Shinra, of course - Shinra had the resources to do this, Shinra didn’t need him alive - but some part of him insisted that it couldn’t be, because Rufus Shinra was subtle, and more importantly, Rufus Shinra didn’t stand to gain anything by torching the WRO to the ground.
“Damnit,” Cloud said softly. “If it wasn’t a helicopter, I could…”
“Don’t try anything funny, please. I can’t drive the bike,” Reeve reminded him, terror an icy hand around his heart.
Above, the two helicopters circled. One stood off, the search beam still sweeping the area and trying to get a lock on them, while the other started descending, preparing to get up close and personal. Even the Cloud Strife of legends couldn’t withstand missiles. Reeve ducked, holding tight, and hoped that if the end came, it would come swiftly. Three, he thought. Three, two, one--
Then, even as Cloud swerved again, trying desperately to throw them off his tail, there was a change in the helicopter’s movements. A pause, almost hesitant, and Reeve dared to glance back - just in time to see the more distant pursuer peel away, switching off its search beams and heading back towards the ruins of the WRO center.
Tseng, he thought.
“That’s one-”
The missile slammed into the ground beside them, and gravel and stone tore through clothing and into skin, the heat from it blistering one hand. The bike’s engine roared and Cloud screamed something in defiance, and the world whirled madly as the bike’s tail went into a spin. He ducked, seeing in the madness a shadow that seemed better protected from the effects of the blast. Almost like a wing over them… He blinked, seeing silver, and even as the tires on the bike shrieked, even as the mad tailspin ground to a halt, he saw that Cloud had drawn his Buster Sword, the blade angled to shield them from the worst of the heat and debris.
The bike came to a stop, amidst a rising cloud of dust, and the helicopter hovered in the distance.
In the moment of perfect silence, Reeve felt as though his heart wanted to hammer a way out of his chest.
Then Cloud scowled, rammed the blade back into its sheathe across his back, and gunned the engine. The helicopter moved, spotlights cutting through the dust to lock onto them again, the whirr of its blades increasing in pitch.
Can’t do this, Reeve thought, mind frozen in shock at how close that had been. Can’t do this--
“Hold on!” Cloud yelled, and light flashed to shadow, something changed in the way the bike was moving, and Cloud was yelling at him to duck.
He moved, too lately, as twigs scoured hair and face, adding to the bloody trails left by the debris earlier. But the massive branches passed safely overhead, and even as leaves rained down on them, even as undergrowth gave way underfoot, Reeve realised that they had reached the safety of the trees.
“We... made it.” He could scarcely believe it, as Cloud hit a wider road and they picked up speed. Behind, the helicopter hovering uselessly for a long moment, seeming for all the world like a vexed and furious animal.
“We made it...” he repeated, stupidly.
“Not out of the woods yet,” Cloud returned with a grim smile, and a shade of humour. Reeve laughed, and it felt like everything in his chest was unwinding. And finally, finally, the helicopter pulled away, seeking altitude, and before long, there was the sound of its retreat.
They had won this round.
*
Watching from afar, Tseng smiled grimly as he tracked the movement of the lights. The return of the chopper could have signalled success, of course - there was always the chance that its about-turn marked a triumphant return, having nailed the foe.
But the crackle of voices in his earphone told him a different story, and he heard anger, blame, and the rapid crossfire of orders. They would surround the forest, he knew, dispatch cars and bikes and choppers to the far end - but the Junon forests were huge, and Strife and Reeve had a headstart. The trees would confuse even sense materia and IR, and if worst came to worst, if they just lay low, there was a good chance that the enemy would simply never find them.
And there was an equally good chance that the enemy would never find Rufus.
His gaze lingered on the distant shadows, his mind wandering just a little, before he pulled it back to the task on hand. A single memory card lay heavy in his pocket, containing not only Shinra data... but WRO files as well. It was true that they were both in the same boat together right now, fighting an unknown aggressor, but there was still mutual distrust, there were still secrets that the WRO kept from Shinra eyes. And even if they were allies, Tseng wasn’t charitable enough to simply wipe their data without taking a copy first.
They were not philanthropists, as Rufus had said.
...Well, time to go. Wounds to bandage, a helicopter to steal, miles to go before he slept...
“Thinking on the job?” a sardonic voice said behind him, and through the surprise, a small smile flickered over Tseng’s face before he turned.
“You make it sound as though that’s a bad thing.”
Another figure stood a distance away, hooded and cloaked. And though he seemed to be alone, Tseng was quite certain that that was not the case - and indeed, after scanning the area a little, he spotted little pools of shadow that were just a bit darker than they should have been.
“I could have killed you on the spot while you thought,” the figure said, and Tseng’s eyes flicked back to him. The mention of it made the earlier bullet wounds in his side and leg burn, demanding attention, but he mentally waved them aside. They would need treatment, but not immediately. Not right now.
“You could have.” He tilted his head. “And yet you didn’t." He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of years of history bearing down on him suddenly, a confused gamut of emotions. He hadn’t expected this.
“It seems that you’ve come for something... Veld.”
*
They didn’t stop until they were more than an hour in. Cloud kept the headlight on the bike on its dimmest setting, relying instead on mako enhanced eyesight, a practice that freaked Reeve out more than he cared to admit. Behind them, the forest was cold and dark, silent except for the noise of their passing.
When Cloud finally pulled up beside a stream, Reeve had to jolt himself awake from the haze of exhaustion that had all but overtaken him. The adrenaline rush had worn off a long time ago, giving way to pain, which had in turn given way to a numbness that had seeped almost bone-deep, encouraged by the chill of the night air.
“Where are we?” he asked, keeping his voice low. Cloud cut Fenrir’s engine, and the sudden silence seemed almost deafening. It was a few long moments before he slowly became aware of the sound of moving water, almost masked by the swish of Cloud’s single sleeve as he climbed off the bike and stood, gazing around.
“Nowhere in particular,” Cloud said. “Near a stream. Are you injured?”
He’d used a materia on the wound earlier, just to stop it from bleeding out, but being able to wash it and dress it properly was a relief. They had no antiseptic, and the myriad of cuts he had somehow accumulated stung in the cold water before going numb again, and Cloud shook his head. “You need to get these looked at.”
“Condor Village, was it?” The place had sprung up around what had once been Fort Condor, thriving on an influx of former Midgar residents and immigrants from Junon, who sought a place that was not under the Shinra banner. “It’s pretty far from here...”
Cloud shook his head. “If I recall from my Shinra days, there are certain outposts around here. They might still be around...”
“Even after Meteorfall? Besides, won’t that waste time?”
Cloud shrugged, eloquent as always. “We’ll stop if we find one. If not...” His glance slid over to Reeve’s arm, where he was blotting the water off a long scratch. “Use of cure materia without disinfecting is dangerous...”
“I’ll be fine, Cloud.” He chuckled, finding his companion’s mood too dark and gloomy for his taste. “Thanks for the rescue, by the way. Talk about good timing.”
Cloud only nodded in response. “We should go. They won’t stop to rest.”
It seemed as though Cloud didn’t intend to stop and rest either. They kept up the breakneck pace for what felt like hours on end, and no few times Reeve caught himself nodding off. His senses had long gone numb to the whistle of the wind and the rustle of the branches. Even the monsters seemed to be keeping their distance, or perhaps there were fewer of them now, after Meteorfall. It had been a long time since he had passed this way...
“Reeve.”
It took him a handful of seconds just to realise that it was Cloud calling his name, another few seconds to realise that they were slowing to a stop once more. Cloud hopped off the bike, dislodging Reeve’s hands around his waist in the process, and drew the buster sword from its sheathe. “There’s something here.”
He blinked himself awake, stepping down from Fenrir on legs that seemed more like jelly than like limbs, and limped over to where Cloud was staring hard at something in the undergrowth. “...I don’t see anything.”
“Something’s concealed here.” Cloud nudged leaves and shrubbery aside with his blade, betraying the glint of metal beneath. “Appears to be a car... look... there are tracks in the ground.”
Reeve didn’t see the supposed tracks that Cloud was pointing at, but he nodded anyway. “Whose-”
There was no sound, not even the crack of a gunshot, but Cloud abruptly staggered, clutching at one arm, his face twisted with pain. “Snipe-” The next bullet hit the ground beside them, and Cloud grabbed Reeve with his good arm and shoved him behind him. Bullets rained down, some silenced, some not, and Cloud hissed out a curse, leaping to his feet and dragging Reeve with him. “Run-”
The explosion took them both by surprise, the force of it strong enough to toss them both off their feet. Reeve felt himself flying, not even sure what had hit them- before the brief sense of weightlessness was brought to a crashing halt as he slammed through undergrowth. He struggled to reorientate - his entire world was spinning crazily, the ringing in his ears drowning out any other sound. He could smell blood vaguely, could feel it trickling down from his hairline, and his vision danced with flashing spots. “What...”
No, he had to keep silent. Had to find Cloud. Had to get out of here. His fingers locked around cold metal, and he dragged himself up, trying to think past the pain and the vertigo. His shoulder screamed bloody murder, and the palms of his hands... he glanced down dumbly at the burnt skin, the pain not even registering at the moment.
Metal. There was metal near him. He’d been flung right into the bush and...
Glass.
Voices, outside, people running around. Glass and metal. It meant something, but as he choked, lungs filled with dirt and smoke, he couldn’t seem to put two and two together. Glass. Metal. His questing hands left bloody smears on the surface of the thing, his vision going from flashing to throbbing, fading in and out along with coherent thought.
“Have to...”
There was the click of a gun, and he glanced up, right down the barrel of a rifle. The armoured trooper standing behind it was unrecognisable behind his helmet.
“Have to...”
The trooper’s head jerked forward suddenly, the gun falling from his hands, before he collapsed without a sound. Someone loomed behind, silver in his hand.
“Cloud...?” Reeve blinked, his legs starting to give way.
“Not quite,” a familiar voice said, and suddenly there were arms around him. “Gotta get you ...”
Another shape detached itself from the shadows, silent. “...that it?”
Reeve blinked, trying to make sense of the words.
“Yeah, should be,” the first figure replied, and Reeve could make out an undertone of agitation in his voice. “-just need to-”
“-told him to stay in the shelter. He’s-”
“-too far, snipers--”
The voices were fading in and out again, lost between the ringing that wouldn’t go away. Reeve blinked, the world going hazy, and blinked again, feeling someone strike his cheek lightly. “Stay awake, you. We didn’t save your ass just to have-”
“Cloud?” he asked, or he might have. His tongue felt as though it was made of lead, and the voices were ignoring him, anyway.
“-went back, but he-”
“-was another explosion-”
“- think there are still people... check let me ... can’t cross...”
“-will go see.”
Silence again. Reeve wondered if he’d passed out, for the second shadow was gone once more, and there was only one left, cursing as it dragged him and cajoled him into moving. It smelt of cigarette smoke.
Something pinged overhead, and the figure swore, dropping him abruptly. Words were hissed in his ear, something that might have been stay here, then there was the rustle of leaves, and he was alone again. Dark. Cold. He wondered where Cloud had vanished off to, and whether he’d survived that explosion - no, of course he had. Cloud was superhuman. If anything, Cloud was probably fighting his way back at this very instant...
“We’re gonna run.” There was someone kneeling beside him again, getting arms around him. “-too many of them, need to-”
“Cloud,” he said, but the other shook his head.
“He’s fine.”
“...Okay?”
“....madness out there. Can’t see...” They moved, and Reeve struggled to stay on his feet and keep up. One foot in front of the other. That was all he had to care about at this time. One foot...
“This is gonna be...”
Be what, he wondered, taking another step - when the ground beneath that foot seemed to slip away suddenly. Someone cursed, and there was too much movement, he was on the ground, but the ground was sliding, earth giving way, going down, down, down--
--he crashed into water, and the cold was like ice encasing him. Breath vanished. Energy vanished. He flailed, scrambling for purchase, for air, for anything, before the waters closed over his head.
*
Tifa’s expression was too blank, too carefully shuttered, as she watched him from the doorway. ”Come back soon, Cloud,” she said, and the children echoed it too. Come back soon. Come back soon. Small hands grasped at his, and he smiled down at them. When had Marlene grown so tall? When had Denzel grown his hair out?
For a moment, he was tempted to tell them the truth - that he couldn’t, that he had errands to run, all the way to Cosmo Canyon, to where uncle Nanaki was...
But he smiled instead, and nodded, and ruffled their hair, and avoided meeting Tifa’s gaze. There had been a time when she had worn her emotions openly, none of this too-polite, too-careful diplomacy. None of this saying words that she didn’t mean, dancing behind empty words.
“Have a good trip,” she said, but the words were sad, hollow. Have a good trip have a good trip haveagoodtrip-
--and suddenly the children’s hands on his were wrenching him forward. Not one, not two, but four, eight, dozens of small white hands reaching up, grabbing his fingers, wrists, arms, shoulders. He yelled in shock, trying to backpedal, but his feet found no purchase. There was water now, where there had been none before, cold and black, swirling around his waist, clinging cloyingly to his skin.
Black. So black.
Chill laughter rang from the distant shore. He glanced up, and Kadaj laughed again, raising his forearm, where materia glistened blue. “Won’t you listen to them, brother? Won’t you hear their pleas?”
Still the hands dragged him down, and still he struggled against them, but he could do nothing but watch as Kadaj waded into the water, steps slow and deliberate.
“Do you know why they are here, brother?” A sweep of a black clad arm, across the dark surface of the lake. “Do you know why they were lost?”
His jaw moved, the words falling from his lips despite himself. “Because... because I wasn’t there.”
“Correct.” Kadaj’s smile was beatific, green eyes gleaming with amusement. He raised his hands, black water streaming from where it had pooled in his glove, and slender fingers touched Cloud’s chin. “Because you ran away. Because you left them to us.”
“Us.” The word was echoed by a million young voices, the chorus of damned. “Because you left us.”
I’m sorry, he wanted to say. So sorry. So very sorry. But sorry wasn’t enough. Sorry was Zack’s blood dripping down his face as he stared in horror. Sorry was not being good enough, not being fast enough, about being the useless one that someone else had to die for. Sorry was Aeris’ body in his hands, and dark, dark waters of this very lake all around him.
“You can’t save us,” the children said. “You can’t save anyone.”
“Come back to us,” a single voice said, clearer than the others, and Cloud looked down, deep into the water, and saw Denzel staring back at him. His face was white, the flesh rotting and peeling away. “Come back soon...”
White hands and white faces. Small fingers curled around his forearms and dragged him under, down to their watery grave-
--“No!”
He opened his eyes to darkness, grasping at nothing. Someone caught his wrist, and for a moment he panicked, thrashing wildly. But there was ... something soft at his back, and the water was gone, and the hand that was holding his wrist was slightly callused, and definitely larger than a child’s.
“Be still, Strife.”
He froze. The voice was familiar, and he turned, but the darkness was absolute. Someone grabbed his arm and he wrenched harshly out of the grip. “Who-”
There was silence for a heartbeat. “...You can’t tell?”
He couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. He was panicked, disorientated, and drowning in a world of pain. And it was pitch dark in here. He gasped, flailing blindly, and the back of his hand whacked fabric.
“Calm down.” The voice sounded exasperated, but made no move to grab his hand once more. “I’m an ally.”
The tone... it was the tone that got to him, penetrating the haze of confusion and panic. The tone of a man used to others doing his bidding, into which smugness had seeped like poison, and taken root.
“Shinra.” He grabbed at fabric, fingers finding the edge of a jacket. “Are you the one behind this?!”
“No.” The answer was curt, short as he’d ever heard Rufus Shinra being. His grip was shaken loose, and he grasped again... but a wave of nausea overtook him at the motion, and his swipe missed. The next second, fingers closed around his chin, rough and clinical, tipping his head up.
“What... are you doing?!”
There was a click, and his chin was released. “Checking pupil reflex. You have none, Strife.” There was the sense of motion, someone shifting, and a cold towel attacked his face. He tensed immediately, prepared for an attack, but none come. It was still an effort not to fight back, the helplessness weighing heavily on him.
“Get back. Stop... doing whatever you’re doing. What do you mean no pupil reflex?”
There was a pause, an annoyed mutter, and finally, a sigh. “Listen closely, because I’ll only explain this once.” The cloth vanished, and there was the sound of splashing water, which continued on for half a second before Shinra spoke again. “I don’t know what you were doing out here, but Reno and Rude heard your bike and proceeded to investigate. They found you unconscious and bleeding, and brought you back here. Reno detected someone else on the sense materia and went after him-”
He remembered being flung, the light searing into his eyes, the smell of burnt flesh acrid in his nose. He didn’t remember hitting the ground. “Reeve... Reeve was there...”
“I see. The Turks would have gone after him.”
He felt the tingle of cure materia, lighting over arms and hands, providing some small relief from the pain that seemed to be everywhere.
“You were fortunate,” Shinra continued. “It seems that they lost you in the dark, and mistook the Turks for you and Reeve.” The materia moved away, and there was more clinking. Cloud struggled to sit up, mentally boggling at the thought of Rufus Shinra tending his injuries. It was hard to trust the man, harder to imagine that there wasn’t some kind of trap, some poison being injected into his veins. But he’d been uneasy allies with Shinra for some time now, enough to make him grit his teeth and bear it, mindful of his inability to tend to his own injuries.
“What happened?” His throat was sore, burnt by blast, it seemed. “Why are you here?” He swiped at his eyes, but the darkness would not lift. Damn it all, he couldn’t afford to be blind, here and now...
“Long story short,” Shinra replied. “The WRO complex was attacked. The Turks evacuated me first - the original plan was to leave via air, but the enemy pre-empted us. Our helicopters were destroyed before we even got to them. Tseng, I believe, remained behind to ...” There was another pause, and Shinra’s voice was just a bit too flat. “...ensure Reeve’s safety.”
“Tseng... got him out. Stayed behind. Destroying information. ...Said he’d go on to Junon. No... to the Edge...”
It might have been his imagination, but it seemed that there was suddenly less tension in the air.
“We cut through the forest,” Shinra continued, after a beat. “With the ultimate objective of meeting at the Condor Village rendezvous point. We made a stopover to refuel... and encountered you.” There was another clink, and he felt cold glass being shoved into his hand.
“Drink,” Shinra said. “It’s a potion.”
His hands, bandaged heavily, were clumsy in uncorking the bottle. A cautious sniff failed to betray anything suspicious, and he tipped it just slightly, allowing a drop to roll onto his tongue-
“For Bahamut’s sake.” Shinra sighed, exasperated. “If I wanted you dead, would I have gone through all the trouble of cleaning your wounds? Even the best dry cleaning in Gaia won’t fix this suit, not after the amount you’ve bled on it.”
Even Cloud could recognise an ice breaker when it clobbered him over the head. It didn’t mean he trusted it, for Rufus Shinra was perfectly capable of pretending to clear the air, while slipping poison into his drink. But the man had a point - there were many ways of killing a crippled person, especially one that had, apparently, been unconscious for a while.
He tipped his head back, downing the potion in one gulp, and choked when the cool liquid hit his burnt throat.
“Slowly.” Shinra made no move to help, and Cloud could sense him rummaging around.
“What-” Cloud gasped out, between coughing fits that felt like fire through his throat. “What...’s the battle p... plan?”
“We wait.” There was the rustle of cloth from the far side of the room, then silence.
Cloud nodded, only half listening. Blind. It was probably the result of the flash from the explosion, but he feared that it was something worse. Physical damage? Damage to the brain? The nausea that kept assaulting him in waves and the constant throbbing in his head bespoke a concussion, and when he raised a cautious hand to his temple, he felt the rough scratch of bandages and the sting of cuts beneath them.
The thought that this might be permanent sent the cold touch of terror crawling up and down his spine. He was... no stranger to fear, no stranger to helplessness, but... he had come a long way since then. He had forged his own path. He had found strength in himself, strength to honour Zack’s name and live the life that Zack had asked him to live. He had defeated Sephiroth. He had....
He had gained so much, and now he felt as though he stood on the precipice of the world, and all the ground beneath his feet threatened to crumble away.
Blind and helpless, suspended in mako. A specimen, an experiment, a puppet...
...No. No, he couldn’t think of that. He cast his mind out, seeking other topics, knowing that the fear would consume him if he let himself reflect on the matter for any length of time. He listened again for any sound of movement from Shinra, but there was none, and he realised that it had been a while since the other had spoken.
“Wait?” he asked. “Wait for what?”
Shinra was slow in replying, and when he did, his voice was laced with the slightest undertone of drowsiness. “For the Turks to get back. Preferably with Tuesti. Then we make our way down to Condor Village and get you to a doctor. A proper doctor.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” he protested, automatic. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a cure materia.”
There was a contemptuous snort from the far side of the room and Cloud scowled faintly, his bluff called. “Wait? That’s all you’re going to do?”
“Correction,” Shinra said. “I’m going to sleep. Shut up and get some rest, Strife. You’re badly injured.”
Ridiculous, he thought... but ...also practical. Soldiers caught rest whenever they could. He had learnt it from the military, learnt it again from Zack, who could sleep anywhere. Battle fatigue, Zack had warned him, so many times. Battle fatigue kills. Rest when you can; you never know when the next opportunity to catch a breather will be.
Zack, he thought, leaning back against the wall, and looking blindly skywards. Zack would never have let this happen.
He could hear Shinra’s breathing, deep and even - and either the man was truly asleep, or he was excellent at faking it.
But even Zack had been caught. Even Zack had been ... killed. Even Zack...
Enough of Zack. It was a soft voice that spoke into his thoughts, one that he had heard before; one that always sounded like Aeris. Get some sleep, you silly boy...
Can’t, he thought. Surrounded by enemies. Reeve might be dead. Tifa’s waiting for me. Marlene’s waiting. Denzel’s waiting. I need to go home.
Children in the water, and all of them were dead. Was it a dream, he wondered, a portent of something to come? Junon was on fire. The Edge was the next, obvious target...
They’re all waiting for me. I can’t abandon them again. I need to protect them. I need to go home.
The voice in his head was silent in the face of his growing fear and desperation.
Need to go... home...
--
To be continued
Rating PG-13 (Safe for work) - Status: In progress - Chapter 13/? - Warnings: None
Characters/Pairings: Tseng/Rufus, Cast
Fic summary: Post-AC, barreling down the road to the reconstruction of Shinra Company. A Hero, a President, a new world, and the politics that draw them all into a tangled web beyond all ability to forecast.
Chapter Summary: In which there are explosions yet again, helicopters, and unexpected guests.
A/N: My writing quality seems to be at an all time low ): On the bright side, have sheer quantity to make up for it? 5,500+ words.
Total word count for fic: 45,000+
Progress: Lame.
How much more: Tons.
“Cloud, I’ve never ridden a bike before.”
A pause. A long look. Despite himself, Reeve still felt a flush of embarrassment.
“It’s not too hard,” Cloud said. “Just hold on to me. It’s like riding a chocobo.”
“Oh.”
It was probably not a good time to tell Cloud that he hadn’t ridden a chocobo before either. He’d always meant to learn - cars and other forms of motor vehicles were few and far between and increasingly difficult to justify in these times. But there were always a few available for use by the WRO’s chairman, and then there was always something urgent demanding his attention, something that warranted the speed, the efficiency...
And maybe the ride would have been less terrifying, he reflected, if Cloud hadn’t been going at a hundred miles an hour over rocky terrain, not braking for turns. They went over a rock and Reeve’s teeth snapped together hard enough to jar his brains. The next moment they were over something else and for a moment Fenrir’s wheels were off the ground... and the slam when they hit the earth all but knocked the breath from his lungs.
The wind whipped past him, catching onto the ends of his coat. Gravel became tiny projectile weapons, slicing past any inch of exposed skin, sand clawing into his eyes before he squeezed them shut and trusted Cloud to know what he was doing. Dirt exploded as something larger than a gunshot torched the ground beside them, and Cloud stamped even harder on the gas.
Shiva, Reeve thought. This needs to hurry up and be over...
It was dirt and open grass out here, far too exposed, as they raced away from the burning wreckage of Junon. Reeve was no combatant, but he could guess well enough that they needed to get out of sight, go to ground, for they couldn’t hope to keep outrunning any form of pursuit. Fenrir was swift, but there were vehicles faster than a bike-
And there. Through the howling of the wind in his ears ... he caught the edges of a familiar sound that he had almost completely disregarded before. Throb, it went, like the beat of his heart, heavy but rapid. Throb throb throb. A sound that almost seemed to fade into the background, and for a moment Reeve couldn’t imagine what it was-- then Cloud swore, and the Reeve’s eyes flew open even as a spotlight drenched them in sudden, blinding light.
“Helicopter!” he yelled, unnecessarily, and Cloud nodded, and leaned forward. Fenrir’s engine roared, and the bike leapt forward, wheels flinging up dust. “We’ll cut through the forest to throw them off,” Cloud yelled back, tugging goggles into place over his eyes. Reeve, with no such luxury, just put his head down and nodded his mutual assent. Words felt useless, felt like they were ripped from his mouth and cast aside in their wake, too slow for this high speed race for their lives.
The light kept on them, following them steadily, even as Cloud swerved and took the bike over the edge of a small rise. For one terrifying moment, they were suspended in thin air, and Reeve felt his grip on Cloud tighten, bracing for the -- slam -- as they hit the ground.
“Don’t...” he said, through gritted teeth, feeling like all the air had been knocked out of him.
“Don’t what?” Cloud yelled back.
Reeve mentally weighed the advantages of not being splattered in pieces across the hillside against the minor discomfort of a rough bike ride, and shook his head. “...Nevermind.”
Overhead, the helicopter continued to follow them, its pace and movements almost leisurely, like a shark stalking its prey. The thud of its blades sounded like death knells. Something crackled, and Reeve glanced up despite himself, squinting as his fringe was whipped into his eyes. But the spotlight blinded him, made it impossible to see their pursuers. Only a matter of time, he figured, before the bullets came raining down, and the shadow, the protection of the distant trees seemed just too far.
“Reeve Tuesti!” a voice rang out, amplified over loud hailers. “We know it’s you! Surrender, and we’ll spare your life!”
There was no reaction from Cloud except to accelerate.
“Stop the bike immediately, or we shoot!”
“Cloud…”
Faster still. The approaching line of trees was nothing but a dark shadow, growing bigger with painful slowness.
The first burst of gunfire was the warning burst. It went right over their heads, slamming into the ground right before them. But Cloud had anticipated this, it seemed, because he swerved, shot down a slope and switched directions at the bottom, heading off at a 45 degree angle from their original trajectory.
The spotlight lost them for a moment, and there were a handful of mad moments as it went past them, doubled back, lost them, caught them again. Reeve had to shut his eyes, half blinded by the beam, and nearly fell from the bike as another rain of gunfire hit the ground mere inches behind them.
“Hold tight,” Cloud said.
“Who is it?” Reeve demanded uselessly. Cloud only shook his head, and took another turn, and they were in the dark once more.
The trees were closer now, and Reeve dared to hope-when the sound of a second set of helicopter blades joined the first, and he glanced up in dread. “Cloud, to the left!”
Cloud muttered and acknowledgement, and wrenched the bike to the side, even as a explosion tore through the ground next to them. One hair’s breadth closer…
“Missile,” Reeve gasped, choking on the dust clouds. “They used a missile…”
“They’re serious,” Cloud answered grimly. “They don’t care about keeping you alive.”
Who could it be? Shinra, of course - Shinra had the resources to do this, Shinra didn’t need him alive - but some part of him insisted that it couldn’t be, because Rufus Shinra was subtle, and more importantly, Rufus Shinra didn’t stand to gain anything by torching the WRO to the ground.
“Damnit,” Cloud said softly. “If it wasn’t a helicopter, I could…”
“Don’t try anything funny, please. I can’t drive the bike,” Reeve reminded him, terror an icy hand around his heart.
Above, the two helicopters circled. One stood off, the search beam still sweeping the area and trying to get a lock on them, while the other started descending, preparing to get up close and personal. Even the Cloud Strife of legends couldn’t withstand missiles. Reeve ducked, holding tight, and hoped that if the end came, it would come swiftly. Three, he thought. Three, two, one--
Then, even as Cloud swerved again, trying desperately to throw them off his tail, there was a change in the helicopter’s movements. A pause, almost hesitant, and Reeve dared to glance back - just in time to see the more distant pursuer peel away, switching off its search beams and heading back towards the ruins of the WRO center.
Tseng, he thought.
“That’s one-”
The missile slammed into the ground beside them, and gravel and stone tore through clothing and into skin, the heat from it blistering one hand. The bike’s engine roared and Cloud screamed something in defiance, and the world whirled madly as the bike’s tail went into a spin. He ducked, seeing in the madness a shadow that seemed better protected from the effects of the blast. Almost like a wing over them… He blinked, seeing silver, and even as the tires on the bike shrieked, even as the mad tailspin ground to a halt, he saw that Cloud had drawn his Buster Sword, the blade angled to shield them from the worst of the heat and debris.
The bike came to a stop, amidst a rising cloud of dust, and the helicopter hovered in the distance.
In the moment of perfect silence, Reeve felt as though his heart wanted to hammer a way out of his chest.
Then Cloud scowled, rammed the blade back into its sheathe across his back, and gunned the engine. The helicopter moved, spotlights cutting through the dust to lock onto them again, the whirr of its blades increasing in pitch.
Can’t do this, Reeve thought, mind frozen in shock at how close that had been. Can’t do this--
“Hold on!” Cloud yelled, and light flashed to shadow, something changed in the way the bike was moving, and Cloud was yelling at him to duck.
He moved, too lately, as twigs scoured hair and face, adding to the bloody trails left by the debris earlier. But the massive branches passed safely overhead, and even as leaves rained down on them, even as undergrowth gave way underfoot, Reeve realised that they had reached the safety of the trees.
“We... made it.” He could scarcely believe it, as Cloud hit a wider road and they picked up speed. Behind, the helicopter hovering uselessly for a long moment, seeming for all the world like a vexed and furious animal.
“We made it...” he repeated, stupidly.
“Not out of the woods yet,” Cloud returned with a grim smile, and a shade of humour. Reeve laughed, and it felt like everything in his chest was unwinding. And finally, finally, the helicopter pulled away, seeking altitude, and before long, there was the sound of its retreat.
They had won this round.
*
Watching from afar, Tseng smiled grimly as he tracked the movement of the lights. The return of the chopper could have signalled success, of course - there was always the chance that its about-turn marked a triumphant return, having nailed the foe.
But the crackle of voices in his earphone told him a different story, and he heard anger, blame, and the rapid crossfire of orders. They would surround the forest, he knew, dispatch cars and bikes and choppers to the far end - but the Junon forests were huge, and Strife and Reeve had a headstart. The trees would confuse even sense materia and IR, and if worst came to worst, if they just lay low, there was a good chance that the enemy would simply never find them.
And there was an equally good chance that the enemy would never find Rufus.
His gaze lingered on the distant shadows, his mind wandering just a little, before he pulled it back to the task on hand. A single memory card lay heavy in his pocket, containing not only Shinra data... but WRO files as well. It was true that they were both in the same boat together right now, fighting an unknown aggressor, but there was still mutual distrust, there were still secrets that the WRO kept from Shinra eyes. And even if they were allies, Tseng wasn’t charitable enough to simply wipe their data without taking a copy first.
They were not philanthropists, as Rufus had said.
...Well, time to go. Wounds to bandage, a helicopter to steal, miles to go before he slept...
“Thinking on the job?” a sardonic voice said behind him, and through the surprise, a small smile flickered over Tseng’s face before he turned.
“You make it sound as though that’s a bad thing.”
Another figure stood a distance away, hooded and cloaked. And though he seemed to be alone, Tseng was quite certain that that was not the case - and indeed, after scanning the area a little, he spotted little pools of shadow that were just a bit darker than they should have been.
“I could have killed you on the spot while you thought,” the figure said, and Tseng’s eyes flicked back to him. The mention of it made the earlier bullet wounds in his side and leg burn, demanding attention, but he mentally waved them aside. They would need treatment, but not immediately. Not right now.
“You could have.” He tilted his head. “And yet you didn’t." He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of years of history bearing down on him suddenly, a confused gamut of emotions. He hadn’t expected this.
“It seems that you’ve come for something... Veld.”
*
They didn’t stop until they were more than an hour in. Cloud kept the headlight on the bike on its dimmest setting, relying instead on mako enhanced eyesight, a practice that freaked Reeve out more than he cared to admit. Behind them, the forest was cold and dark, silent except for the noise of their passing.
When Cloud finally pulled up beside a stream, Reeve had to jolt himself awake from the haze of exhaustion that had all but overtaken him. The adrenaline rush had worn off a long time ago, giving way to pain, which had in turn given way to a numbness that had seeped almost bone-deep, encouraged by the chill of the night air.
“Where are we?” he asked, keeping his voice low. Cloud cut Fenrir’s engine, and the sudden silence seemed almost deafening. It was a few long moments before he slowly became aware of the sound of moving water, almost masked by the swish of Cloud’s single sleeve as he climbed off the bike and stood, gazing around.
“Nowhere in particular,” Cloud said. “Near a stream. Are you injured?”
He’d used a materia on the wound earlier, just to stop it from bleeding out, but being able to wash it and dress it properly was a relief. They had no antiseptic, and the myriad of cuts he had somehow accumulated stung in the cold water before going numb again, and Cloud shook his head. “You need to get these looked at.”
“Condor Village, was it?” The place had sprung up around what had once been Fort Condor, thriving on an influx of former Midgar residents and immigrants from Junon, who sought a place that was not under the Shinra banner. “It’s pretty far from here...”
Cloud shook his head. “If I recall from my Shinra days, there are certain outposts around here. They might still be around...”
“Even after Meteorfall? Besides, won’t that waste time?”
Cloud shrugged, eloquent as always. “We’ll stop if we find one. If not...” His glance slid over to Reeve’s arm, where he was blotting the water off a long scratch. “Use of cure materia without disinfecting is dangerous...”
“I’ll be fine, Cloud.” He chuckled, finding his companion’s mood too dark and gloomy for his taste. “Thanks for the rescue, by the way. Talk about good timing.”
Cloud only nodded in response. “We should go. They won’t stop to rest.”
It seemed as though Cloud didn’t intend to stop and rest either. They kept up the breakneck pace for what felt like hours on end, and no few times Reeve caught himself nodding off. His senses had long gone numb to the whistle of the wind and the rustle of the branches. Even the monsters seemed to be keeping their distance, or perhaps there were fewer of them now, after Meteorfall. It had been a long time since he had passed this way...
“Reeve.”
It took him a handful of seconds just to realise that it was Cloud calling his name, another few seconds to realise that they were slowing to a stop once more. Cloud hopped off the bike, dislodging Reeve’s hands around his waist in the process, and drew the buster sword from its sheathe. “There’s something here.”
He blinked himself awake, stepping down from Fenrir on legs that seemed more like jelly than like limbs, and limped over to where Cloud was staring hard at something in the undergrowth. “...I don’t see anything.”
“Something’s concealed here.” Cloud nudged leaves and shrubbery aside with his blade, betraying the glint of metal beneath. “Appears to be a car... look... there are tracks in the ground.”
Reeve didn’t see the supposed tracks that Cloud was pointing at, but he nodded anyway. “Whose-”
There was no sound, not even the crack of a gunshot, but Cloud abruptly staggered, clutching at one arm, his face twisted with pain. “Snipe-” The next bullet hit the ground beside them, and Cloud grabbed Reeve with his good arm and shoved him behind him. Bullets rained down, some silenced, some not, and Cloud hissed out a curse, leaping to his feet and dragging Reeve with him. “Run-”
The explosion took them both by surprise, the force of it strong enough to toss them both off their feet. Reeve felt himself flying, not even sure what had hit them- before the brief sense of weightlessness was brought to a crashing halt as he slammed through undergrowth. He struggled to reorientate - his entire world was spinning crazily, the ringing in his ears drowning out any other sound. He could smell blood vaguely, could feel it trickling down from his hairline, and his vision danced with flashing spots. “What...”
No, he had to keep silent. Had to find Cloud. Had to get out of here. His fingers locked around cold metal, and he dragged himself up, trying to think past the pain and the vertigo. His shoulder screamed bloody murder, and the palms of his hands... he glanced down dumbly at the burnt skin, the pain not even registering at the moment.
Metal. There was metal near him. He’d been flung right into the bush and...
Glass.
Voices, outside, people running around. Glass and metal. It meant something, but as he choked, lungs filled with dirt and smoke, he couldn’t seem to put two and two together. Glass. Metal. His questing hands left bloody smears on the surface of the thing, his vision going from flashing to throbbing, fading in and out along with coherent thought.
“Have to...”
There was the click of a gun, and he glanced up, right down the barrel of a rifle. The armoured trooper standing behind it was unrecognisable behind his helmet.
“Have to...”
The trooper’s head jerked forward suddenly, the gun falling from his hands, before he collapsed without a sound. Someone loomed behind, silver in his hand.
“Cloud...?” Reeve blinked, his legs starting to give way.
“Not quite,” a familiar voice said, and suddenly there were arms around him. “Gotta get you ...”
Another shape detached itself from the shadows, silent. “...that it?”
Reeve blinked, trying to make sense of the words.
“Yeah, should be,” the first figure replied, and Reeve could make out an undertone of agitation in his voice. “-just need to-”
“-told him to stay in the shelter. He’s-”
“-too far, snipers--”
The voices were fading in and out again, lost between the ringing that wouldn’t go away. Reeve blinked, the world going hazy, and blinked again, feeling someone strike his cheek lightly. “Stay awake, you. We didn’t save your ass just to have-”
“Cloud?” he asked, or he might have. His tongue felt as though it was made of lead, and the voices were ignoring him, anyway.
“-went back, but he-”
“-was another explosion-”
“- think there are still people... check let me ... can’t cross...”
“-will go see.”
Silence again. Reeve wondered if he’d passed out, for the second shadow was gone once more, and there was only one left, cursing as it dragged him and cajoled him into moving. It smelt of cigarette smoke.
Something pinged overhead, and the figure swore, dropping him abruptly. Words were hissed in his ear, something that might have been stay here, then there was the rustle of leaves, and he was alone again. Dark. Cold. He wondered where Cloud had vanished off to, and whether he’d survived that explosion - no, of course he had. Cloud was superhuman. If anything, Cloud was probably fighting his way back at this very instant...
“We’re gonna run.” There was someone kneeling beside him again, getting arms around him. “-too many of them, need to-”
“Cloud,” he said, but the other shook his head.
“He’s fine.”
“...Okay?”
“....madness out there. Can’t see...” They moved, and Reeve struggled to stay on his feet and keep up. One foot in front of the other. That was all he had to care about at this time. One foot...
“This is gonna be...”
Be what, he wondered, taking another step - when the ground beneath that foot seemed to slip away suddenly. Someone cursed, and there was too much movement, he was on the ground, but the ground was sliding, earth giving way, going down, down, down--
--he crashed into water, and the cold was like ice encasing him. Breath vanished. Energy vanished. He flailed, scrambling for purchase, for air, for anything, before the waters closed over his head.
*
Tifa’s expression was too blank, too carefully shuttered, as she watched him from the doorway. ”Come back soon, Cloud,” she said, and the children echoed it too. Come back soon. Come back soon. Small hands grasped at his, and he smiled down at them. When had Marlene grown so tall? When had Denzel grown his hair out?
For a moment, he was tempted to tell them the truth - that he couldn’t, that he had errands to run, all the way to Cosmo Canyon, to where uncle Nanaki was...
But he smiled instead, and nodded, and ruffled their hair, and avoided meeting Tifa’s gaze. There had been a time when she had worn her emotions openly, none of this too-polite, too-careful diplomacy. None of this saying words that she didn’t mean, dancing behind empty words.
“Have a good trip,” she said, but the words were sad, hollow. Have a good trip have a good trip haveagoodtrip-
--and suddenly the children’s hands on his were wrenching him forward. Not one, not two, but four, eight, dozens of small white hands reaching up, grabbing his fingers, wrists, arms, shoulders. He yelled in shock, trying to backpedal, but his feet found no purchase. There was water now, where there had been none before, cold and black, swirling around his waist, clinging cloyingly to his skin.
Black. So black.
Chill laughter rang from the distant shore. He glanced up, and Kadaj laughed again, raising his forearm, where materia glistened blue. “Won’t you listen to them, brother? Won’t you hear their pleas?”
Still the hands dragged him down, and still he struggled against them, but he could do nothing but watch as Kadaj waded into the water, steps slow and deliberate.
“Do you know why they are here, brother?” A sweep of a black clad arm, across the dark surface of the lake. “Do you know why they were lost?”
His jaw moved, the words falling from his lips despite himself. “Because... because I wasn’t there.”
“Correct.” Kadaj’s smile was beatific, green eyes gleaming with amusement. He raised his hands, black water streaming from where it had pooled in his glove, and slender fingers touched Cloud’s chin. “Because you ran away. Because you left them to us.”
“Us.” The word was echoed by a million young voices, the chorus of damned. “Because you left us.”
I’m sorry, he wanted to say. So sorry. So very sorry. But sorry wasn’t enough. Sorry was Zack’s blood dripping down his face as he stared in horror. Sorry was not being good enough, not being fast enough, about being the useless one that someone else had to die for. Sorry was Aeris’ body in his hands, and dark, dark waters of this very lake all around him.
“You can’t save us,” the children said. “You can’t save anyone.”
“Come back to us,” a single voice said, clearer than the others, and Cloud looked down, deep into the water, and saw Denzel staring back at him. His face was white, the flesh rotting and peeling away. “Come back soon...”
White hands and white faces. Small fingers curled around his forearms and dragged him under, down to their watery grave-
--“No!”
He opened his eyes to darkness, grasping at nothing. Someone caught his wrist, and for a moment he panicked, thrashing wildly. But there was ... something soft at his back, and the water was gone, and the hand that was holding his wrist was slightly callused, and definitely larger than a child’s.
“Be still, Strife.”
He froze. The voice was familiar, and he turned, but the darkness was absolute. Someone grabbed his arm and he wrenched harshly out of the grip. “Who-”
There was silence for a heartbeat. “...You can’t tell?”
He couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. He was panicked, disorientated, and drowning in a world of pain. And it was pitch dark in here. He gasped, flailing blindly, and the back of his hand whacked fabric.
“Calm down.” The voice sounded exasperated, but made no move to grab his hand once more. “I’m an ally.”
The tone... it was the tone that got to him, penetrating the haze of confusion and panic. The tone of a man used to others doing his bidding, into which smugness had seeped like poison, and taken root.
“Shinra.” He grabbed at fabric, fingers finding the edge of a jacket. “Are you the one behind this?!”
“No.” The answer was curt, short as he’d ever heard Rufus Shinra being. His grip was shaken loose, and he grasped again... but a wave of nausea overtook him at the motion, and his swipe missed. The next second, fingers closed around his chin, rough and clinical, tipping his head up.
“What... are you doing?!”
There was a click, and his chin was released. “Checking pupil reflex. You have none, Strife.” There was the sense of motion, someone shifting, and a cold towel attacked his face. He tensed immediately, prepared for an attack, but none come. It was still an effort not to fight back, the helplessness weighing heavily on him.
“Get back. Stop... doing whatever you’re doing. What do you mean no pupil reflex?”
There was a pause, an annoyed mutter, and finally, a sigh. “Listen closely, because I’ll only explain this once.” The cloth vanished, and there was the sound of splashing water, which continued on for half a second before Shinra spoke again. “I don’t know what you were doing out here, but Reno and Rude heard your bike and proceeded to investigate. They found you unconscious and bleeding, and brought you back here. Reno detected someone else on the sense materia and went after him-”
He remembered being flung, the light searing into his eyes, the smell of burnt flesh acrid in his nose. He didn’t remember hitting the ground. “Reeve... Reeve was there...”
“I see. The Turks would have gone after him.”
He felt the tingle of cure materia, lighting over arms and hands, providing some small relief from the pain that seemed to be everywhere.
“You were fortunate,” Shinra continued. “It seems that they lost you in the dark, and mistook the Turks for you and Reeve.” The materia moved away, and there was more clinking. Cloud struggled to sit up, mentally boggling at the thought of Rufus Shinra tending his injuries. It was hard to trust the man, harder to imagine that there wasn’t some kind of trap, some poison being injected into his veins. But he’d been uneasy allies with Shinra for some time now, enough to make him grit his teeth and bear it, mindful of his inability to tend to his own injuries.
“What happened?” His throat was sore, burnt by blast, it seemed. “Why are you here?” He swiped at his eyes, but the darkness would not lift. Damn it all, he couldn’t afford to be blind, here and now...
“Long story short,” Shinra replied. “The WRO complex was attacked. The Turks evacuated me first - the original plan was to leave via air, but the enemy pre-empted us. Our helicopters were destroyed before we even got to them. Tseng, I believe, remained behind to ...” There was another pause, and Shinra’s voice was just a bit too flat. “...ensure Reeve’s safety.”
“Tseng... got him out. Stayed behind. Destroying information. ...Said he’d go on to Junon. No... to the Edge...”
It might have been his imagination, but it seemed that there was suddenly less tension in the air.
“We cut through the forest,” Shinra continued, after a beat. “With the ultimate objective of meeting at the Condor Village rendezvous point. We made a stopover to refuel... and encountered you.” There was another clink, and he felt cold glass being shoved into his hand.
“Drink,” Shinra said. “It’s a potion.”
His hands, bandaged heavily, were clumsy in uncorking the bottle. A cautious sniff failed to betray anything suspicious, and he tipped it just slightly, allowing a drop to roll onto his tongue-
“For Bahamut’s sake.” Shinra sighed, exasperated. “If I wanted you dead, would I have gone through all the trouble of cleaning your wounds? Even the best dry cleaning in Gaia won’t fix this suit, not after the amount you’ve bled on it.”
Even Cloud could recognise an ice breaker when it clobbered him over the head. It didn’t mean he trusted it, for Rufus Shinra was perfectly capable of pretending to clear the air, while slipping poison into his drink. But the man had a point - there were many ways of killing a crippled person, especially one that had, apparently, been unconscious for a while.
He tipped his head back, downing the potion in one gulp, and choked when the cool liquid hit his burnt throat.
“Slowly.” Shinra made no move to help, and Cloud could sense him rummaging around.
“What-” Cloud gasped out, between coughing fits that felt like fire through his throat. “What...’s the battle p... plan?”
“We wait.” There was the rustle of cloth from the far side of the room, then silence.
Cloud nodded, only half listening. Blind. It was probably the result of the flash from the explosion, but he feared that it was something worse. Physical damage? Damage to the brain? The nausea that kept assaulting him in waves and the constant throbbing in his head bespoke a concussion, and when he raised a cautious hand to his temple, he felt the rough scratch of bandages and the sting of cuts beneath them.
The thought that this might be permanent sent the cold touch of terror crawling up and down his spine. He was... no stranger to fear, no stranger to helplessness, but... he had come a long way since then. He had forged his own path. He had found strength in himself, strength to honour Zack’s name and live the life that Zack had asked him to live. He had defeated Sephiroth. He had....
He had gained so much, and now he felt as though he stood on the precipice of the world, and all the ground beneath his feet threatened to crumble away.
Blind and helpless, suspended in mako. A specimen, an experiment, a puppet...
...No. No, he couldn’t think of that. He cast his mind out, seeking other topics, knowing that the fear would consume him if he let himself reflect on the matter for any length of time. He listened again for any sound of movement from Shinra, but there was none, and he realised that it had been a while since the other had spoken.
“Wait?” he asked. “Wait for what?”
Shinra was slow in replying, and when he did, his voice was laced with the slightest undertone of drowsiness. “For the Turks to get back. Preferably with Tuesti. Then we make our way down to Condor Village and get you to a doctor. A proper doctor.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” he protested, automatic. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a cure materia.”
There was a contemptuous snort from the far side of the room and Cloud scowled faintly, his bluff called. “Wait? That’s all you’re going to do?”
“Correction,” Shinra said. “I’m going to sleep. Shut up and get some rest, Strife. You’re badly injured.”
Ridiculous, he thought... but ...also practical. Soldiers caught rest whenever they could. He had learnt it from the military, learnt it again from Zack, who could sleep anywhere. Battle fatigue, Zack had warned him, so many times. Battle fatigue kills. Rest when you can; you never know when the next opportunity to catch a breather will be.
Zack, he thought, leaning back against the wall, and looking blindly skywards. Zack would never have let this happen.
He could hear Shinra’s breathing, deep and even - and either the man was truly asleep, or he was excellent at faking it.
But even Zack had been caught. Even Zack had been ... killed. Even Zack...
Enough of Zack. It was a soft voice that spoke into his thoughts, one that he had heard before; one that always sounded like Aeris. Get some sleep, you silly boy...
Can’t, he thought. Surrounded by enemies. Reeve might be dead. Tifa’s waiting for me. Marlene’s waiting. Denzel’s waiting. I need to go home.
Children in the water, and all of them were dead. Was it a dream, he wondered, a portent of something to come? Junon was on fire. The Edge was the next, obvious target...
They’re all waiting for me. I can’t abandon them again. I need to protect them. I need to go home.
The voice in his head was silent in the face of his growing fear and desperation.
Need to go... home...
--
To be continued