by Junj
by Junj
Warning to the General Public: Main characters meet their untimely doom in this. It’s sad but true. Read at your own risk. I mean: Please read at your own risk.
Disclaimer: The characters, items, places, etc. of Final Fantasy VII are property of Squaresoft, Inc. No infringement is intended.
Lo, I have created the craftsman who blows on the burning coals and forges weapons as his work; it is I also who have created the destroyer to work havoc. No weapon fashioned against you shall prevail; every tongue you shall prove false that launches an accusation against you.
Cloud Cover: The Destroyer
“Shave and a haircut – two gil!”
Vincent Valentine groaned, slapping his hand to his face in an uncommon show of emotion, even if it was irritation. He leaned heavily on the mop he was holding, taking a peek at the man stomping out the tune in front of him.
Cid Highwind noticed the look he was receiving, his foot poised for another rendition of “Shave and a Haircut, Two Gil”. He set it slowly down on top of the mound of paper towels covering the floor of the Seventh Heaven. He scratched the back of his head, his eyebrows raising.
“Am I annoying you?” he asked. “By doing this?”
Vincent sighed, pushing himself off the mop and resuming his work. “It’s not so much what you’re doing that I mind, but the idiotic way in which you’re doing it.”
Cid laughed. “This? Idiotic? Ha!” He continued to stomp on the paper towels, though without the previous rhythm.
Vincent sighed. After the two Shinra commandos had been killed, it had taken them almost fifteen minutes to persuade Marlene to go back to sleep without coming down to the bar room and twice that amount of time to drag the bodies to a dumpster in the slums. The furniture had been dumped in a corner. And, now, much to Vincent’s dismay, Cid had taken almost four rolls of paper towels, covered the bloody floor with them, and was walking around on them, leaving red footprints where he treaded directly over the blood. It was a waste of time and energy, not to mention paper towels.
“Why can’t you just use a mop?” he growled, his eyes narrowing as Cid bent over to pick up a particularly drenched paper towel. “Like any normal person?”
“Like you?” He dropped the towel in a large trash bag, looking with disgust at the sticking red covering his fingertips. “You ain’t exactly normal yourself there, Vin.”
“And just what are you insinuating?” His tone had picked up a menacing note.
Cid snorted. “Oh, come on, Vinnie! I’m not blind. You ain’t normal. You’re freakin’ weird.” He frowned slightly, his tone taking on a more serious note though a smile broke onto his features, ruining the effect. “And so am I. It is nothing to be ashamed of.”
Vincent stared at the man standing in front of him, his brow furrowed. “Weird, huh? At least I use a mop, towel man.”
Cid took a deep breath. “It is against my morals to use a mop, Mr. Valentine. Respect that fact, and I will not be forced to kill you later.”
Vincent couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Kill me. I think a ‘thank you’ note would be in order, first and foremost. You’d be dead. You’re lucky they missed with that shot.”
“Aim had nothing to do with it,” he muttered, rubbing his palm against his pant leg.
Vincent leaned forward on the mop. “What?”
Cid glanced up, meeting Vincent’s eyes. “I said we’d better do something with this &*%$. You know, before Tifa comes home, finds her house a mess, and starts yellin’. And then Barret’ll say, ‘Don’t make me kick yo ass, foo’! Drop and give me twenty!’ To which I will reply, ‘@#$% off.’ ”
Vincent didn’t reply, dutifully noting the fact that Cid was pissed though unsure as to why.
“Damn it! Hand me that damn mop!”
Vincent tossed the mop to Cid who picked it out of the air easily. Kicking the paper towels out of his way and into the general direction of the trash, he began to mop the floor viciously. His bangs, normally held back by his trademark goggles, now fell before his eyes, annoying him immensely, but he made no move to push them from his face.
Why are you so impossible, Cid? Aeris asked, her tone hard with her own anger. I swear if I told you not to jump off a cliff, you’d do it just to spite me.
He dunked the mop into the bucket of soapy water before returning to the floor with renewed anger. I didn’t ask you to save me!
You didn’t ask me not to, either.
Look, you wanna play you’re little games with yourself, that’s fine by me ’cause you ain’t fooling anybody. You’ve saved me twice, now, and I don’t think it’s because you like me. What do you want?
I don’t know –
Damn it, Aeris! Don’t play these fool games with me! I’m not stupid, and what Shera says ’bout me getting locked up in the basement when I was a kid isn’t true.
Cid –
Just tell me what it is you want!
Aeris took a shuddering breath, the sound reverberating in his head as though it was actually real. I’m using you –
No @#$*.
– to save the Planet.
To save Cloud.
No – I mean, yes… I don’t know what I mean. Saving the Planet involves saving Cloud. What she is planning… God help us.
Cid shook his head as if to rid himself of her pestering presence. “I really don’t care anymore,” he muttered under his breath, vigorously scrubbing the floor with the mop. “You do whatever the hell you have to. I don’t give a damn.”
“What are you talking about?” Vincent asked, a curious light in his dark eyes.
Cid glanced at him. “I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to myself. I’m crazy. Next thing you know, I’ll be walking down the street with a hamster on my head screamin’, ‘I’m a pony! I’m a pony!’ So just, shut up.”
Vincent didn’t say anything, leaning against the bar, his arms crossed across his chest in the nonchalant – even cold – manner which defined him. He arched an eyebrow. “Are you finished now?” he asked. “If you mop any harder, you’re going to wear through the floor.”
Cid merely shook his head and straightened with a sigh breaking through his labored breathing. “I dunno.”
“What?”
He shrugged. “Anything. I know absolutely nothing.”
“That’s very interesting.”
Cid shook his head. “Don’t you have anything purposeful to say? ’Bout as interesting as my ass.”
“I think you’re under-glorifying the subject.”
“Am I? What do you know? I got ten that says nothing. Nothing important anyway.”
Vincent frowned but had no reply to give the pilot. He crossed his feet impatiently, glancing at the clock as the seconds ticked by. There was no sound except for their soft breathing. Cid’s face broke into a smile.
“You don’t know anything, either!” he exclaimed, laughter in his voice. “Where’s my ten gil? Fork it over!”
He walked across the wet floor, narrowly avoiding a trip over the bucket of suds and soap. He held out his hand, rubbing his thumb against his index and middle fingers, the smile widening on his face. “I can get five shaves and haircuts with this sweet money,” he declared. Vincent groaned.
And then the most sickening sense of evil passed over them.
Vincent’s groan disappeared behind a scream. Cid winced as the scream cut though his mind, overpowering the dread twisting his innards. He grasped his head pain flowering through him. His heart pounded in his ears, thundering over the shrill scream. It cut off as quickly it had begun.
The black faded as he slowly opened his eyes, suddenly aware that he had fallen to his knees in the numbing pain. The horror was still there, darkening the world, and over the ringing still in his ears, Cid could hear another scream. A scream that was real, not an intangible force that only he could hear. It was Marlene’s.
He staggered to his feet. “Marlene!”
The scream withered away to sobbing. He was for once unaware of Aeris’ presence at the back of his mind. Dazed, he stumbled over his own footing. He fell to the floor with a dull thud, knocking the bucket of bloody and soapy water over, dumping its contents. The cries were lost as he slipped into unconsciousness.
Reno groaned, the white light piercing through his closed eyes and creating a bloody shade for his vision. He frowned. No, his eyes weren’t closed. The light was breaking through his hair. His hair was that dark, crimson covering his eyes, sticking to his forehead in wet clumps.
“Reno?”
That voice was so familiar, but Reno couldn’t place it as one he had heard in a long time. A very long time. He pushed the hair from his forehead and from his eyes with his hand, squinting in the sudden brightness. A dark silhouette emerged over the bright, and Reno was able to put a name to the voice.
“Reeve? What the hell?” He pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring the protests from his aching muscles. He felt over his chest, feeling the bloody, rumpled cloth but not the underlying wounds he remembered receiving from that machine gun burst. “I’m alive? *&$%.”
He fell back against the cold surface of the floor, a wave of nausea hitting him. He groaned.
“Take it easy, there, Reno,” Reeve ordered.
Reno shut his eyes against the dizziness and the brightness, wishing it to all just go away as the gunshots covering his chest had.
“Yeah, you almost died.”
Reno blinked his eyes back open, confusion lining his brow. Hovering over him like a mother hen did her chicks was Cait Sith. But Cait Sith was Reeve, and Reeve was there as well. They couldn’t be together. They were the same person!
He pushed himself into a sitting position again and slid back to the wall, his eyes wide. “What the hell is going on here?! You and him – you – him – what the…? Damn!”
Reeve rubbed his forehead before letting his hand slide down his face, coming to a stop at his chin. He shrugged, his hand dropping. “Let me explain this. I am Reeve.”
“Yeah. No &$@#,” Reno agreed shakily.
Reeve held up a hand. “No interruptions, please. I am Reeve, and this is Cait Sith. I programmed Cait Sith with an artificial intelligence of sorts so he and I could be doing two different things at once. When Tifa wanted to launch her attack on the laboratories, I hacked into the security system while Cait Sith acted as a relay man. I gave the AI total control when the fighting started because I got kicked out of the system. Unfortunately, I have no means of turning the AI off from here, so we’re stuck with him.”
“You act like that’s a bad thing,” Cait Sith declared, crossing his arms indignantly. “Look at what Baldie did to my mog!”
Reno raised an eyebrow. “Baldie?! Huh? This is too damn weird!”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
All three of them turned to the new voice, Reno’s confusion increasing to almost unbearable levels. He stood, his eyes on the new person in the room. Scarlet. Oh, how he hated Scarlet. But what was she doing here?
She walked farther into the room with an over-powering seductive gait. She shook back her hair, letting it fall behind on of her shoulders and down her back. “Oh, please, Reno. You’re going to have a coronary if you keep staring like that.”
He glowered at her but clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything. He inwardly squirmed under her almost hungry glare but somehow managed to keep a straight face, praying to any sort of god that she turn her attention on someone else.
“What do you want, Scarlet?” Reeve asked, his tone uncharacteristically icy. “Let Reno alone; he’s had a bad day.”
Instead, Scarlet moved closer to the Turk. “I know he’s had a bad day.” She fingered the collar of his damp, navy blue suit. She tsked. “You’re never going to get that blood stain out of your suit.”
Reno cringed. “Why would I want this suit? You’ve contaminated it with your very presence.”
Scarlet couldn’t resist a wicked smile. “I can help you get rid of it, if you like.”
Reno grimaced, frowning. He pushed her away, ignoring the locks of red hair that fell before his eyes. “Get away from me.”
Reeve cleared his throat, an action which was promptly ignored by Scarlet.
“You know what you want,” she hissed, her eyes lighting up as she grabbed the cloth of his jacket.
Reno’s frown deepened, anger pulsing through him. “I hate you. I want you to die!” he growled, his tone menacing. “What part of that can’t you understand?”
Scarlet feigned hurt. “Oh, Reno, you’re being inconsiderate to my feelings. Don’t you think an apology would be in order?”
“Here’s my regret!”
His clenched fist rammed into her jaw, ripping her from his shoulder and throwing her to the floor with the force of the blow. She clutched at her split lip, tasting the blood flowing from the cut. She stood shakily, slumping forward as she straightened. “You’re going to pay for that, my dear, dear Reno. Guards!”
A pair of guards filed into the room. Big, nasty guards.
One cracked his knuckles before proceeding to beat Reno down to the ground. And over the pain from the blows, even to the point where oblivion was creeping up in the corners of his vision, Reno felt nothing but absolute satisfaction.
The wind rolled over the grassy plains as a light breath, stroking the tall plants of the earth like a young girl would absentmindedly stroke the silken hair of her favorite doll. The yellow grass wavered in the breeze, a golden ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. The sunlight bent and gleamed on the glossy stems, creating thousands of tiny shadows and soft reflections of light and dark. The grass rippled in the wind, a million waves peacefully bending and folding until they were halted by either the light blue sky or the monstrous obelisk reaching for the heavens.
It was this obelisk for which she was searching.
Grasping to the sky with fingers outstretched, waiting for an eternal embrace that would never come, the large city, filled with magnificent crystals and golden treasures, loomed above her. Long, dark shadows fanned out beneath the towering spires and obscured the earth from the light of the sun, depriving the plants of their lives. Rocks protruded from the ground, sharp with jagged edges mimicking the large city’s reaching hands as they jutted from the earth.
Shadows hid everything in a musk dark and a tangible cold as though the hand of Death never truly let anything escape the black that surrounded everything. It was the dark she despised, overly cunning in view of the light, always creeping up on it as the evil did in the hearts of man, as the shadows crept up on the edges of the world. The light made the dark, could not survive without it, but darkness… darkness was the absence of nothing and everything. The dark was everywhere.
Aeris Gainsborough, a small smile written upon her features, stepped under the arch defining the entrance to the City of the Ancients, her hand drawn tightly around the hilt of the Ultima Weapon. The twinkling blade of the sword chased away the darkness and any creatures which sought to hurt her. The sword was heavy, dreadfully so, but it was a mere reminder of her duty and of her past.
Glittering water accented the stone cold pillars and marble floor, reflecting light over them and making it seem as though the entire city had been created out of water. Light fluttered across her angelic face, gleaming off her soft features and glittering within the emerald orbs of her eyes. The sword clutched deeply in her hand sparkled in the reflected light.
She stepped to the edge, staring down in the depthless, crystalline water. The deep blue of it reminded her of the color of his eyes as he had laid her to rest eternally within the heart of her city, the city of her ancestors. God, how she longed to see those eyes again, the eyes she had grown so accustomed to in the short while she knew them, the eyes she had grown to love. But they had drawn her back here to this place where she had sacrificed herself. Why were they forever returning to the place of their departure? Why were they damned to relive a life where they were separated by some inexplicable force?
She fell down to her knees, the Ultima Weapon dropping from her numbed hands, the tears flowing freely down her face. It always came back here, forever returning to the fact that they couldn’t be together, especially not now. There was no choice in the matter; she could never have him. He was Tifa’s. He deserved Tifa.
The blade of the Ultima Weapon clattered to the ground, ringing on the white-washed floor before sliding into the water. And as the sword slipped into the pool, the water changed.
Crimson fanned out where the liquid swirled against the blade, the dark color staining the blue translucence that had been reminiscent of his eyes. The Ultima Weapon sank beneath the surface, leaving behind a trail of red like a plume of smoke bleeding to the surface. And she cried as the crystal pool before her was slowly transformed into something entirely different.
A lake of death.
A lake of blood…
Cid forced his eyes open against the vision, opting for the overly bright lights of the Seventh Heaven rather than the sickening sight of a reddened lake. He shook the sight from his vision, a sense of dread welling in the pit of his stomach. The red lake was too familiar, too unnatural to possibly be a coincidence. What was Aeris up to now?
He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the persistently annoying locks of hair which fell before his eyes. What I wouldn’t give to have back my goggles, he said to himself, slightly surprised to hear no reply from Aeris. She was interrupting his thoughts more often than not.
He blew out a shaky breath and his eyes finally met Vincent’s. He cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed to see the concern that was hidden within his red orbs. “Hey, Vinnie?” he asked, though he had no need to draw the other man’s attention. Vincent was already focussed on him. “You wouldn’t happen to have two gil somewhere, would you?” He couldn’t keep a chuckle from springing from his mouth. “I need a shave and a haircut.”
Vincent slapped his forehead with his good hand, slowly rising. “When are you going to grow up?” he asked, bending over to pick up the fallen mop.
Cid merely shrugged, straightening his jacket as he stood. He groaned, an ache pounding through his head. “That’s the last time I go to sleep without smokin’ first.”
Vincent frowned. “I don’t think this had to do with nicotine cravings,” he declared, glancing at the mess which dominated the floor of the Seventh Heaven. The water from the bucket Cid had kicked over created covered the floor, soaking into the mound of paper towels. Bloody suds were a crude decoration.
Cid’s head snapped up at the sound of a creaking board, and his gaze landed on Marlene. Her lips were pursed, her hands planted on her hips in a posture reminiscent of Tifa. Clutched in one hand, hanging limply from her waist, was a rumpled, ratty, old teddy bear, almost hidden by the folds of her purple nightgown.
“Marlene? Maybe you oughtta go back upstairs,” he stated, rubbing his eyes of the ache which settled behind them.
“What have you two been doing?” she demanded, her voice hot for someone so young. Cid rolled his eyes, mouthing a choice word as he looked away from her and back to Vincent. The other man shrugged, giving Cid control of the conversation. He muttered another, more foul, curse.
“First and foremost, are you okay?” he asked.
Marlene nodded, confusion lining her brow. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re the one destroying the Seventh Heaven.”
He glanced at the ceiling. Thank you, Aeris. He looked back to Marlene, grimacing. “Don’t step there; we’ll never get it outta your slippers.”
“Screw the slippers!” All three occupants turned to see Barret entering the Seventh Heaven, Tifa at his heels. “Cid, what the hell did you do to this place ’cause I mean… da-amn!”
Cid glanced from Barret to Tifa, involuntarily fidgeting under her angry gaze. No Cloud. Ah, damn… He wined at the stream of insults he knew was coming. “I leave you with one, simple thing to do – one, simple, little task – and you somehow manage to screw it up!” she declared, her face reddening with rage. “What the hell’s the matter with you, anyhow?! Can’t you take care of one, little thing without someone holding your hand?! When are you going to grow up?! What the hell did you do to my bar?!”
Cid merely shrugged, struck wordless by her anger. He looked at the puddle of water at his feet, staring intently at the dark splotches mottling his coveralls. “I take it ‘the full frontal attack’ didn’t work,” he muttered.
“Damn straight,” Barret replied, looking around the room. Red XIII pushed through the larger man’s legs, shaking his coat vigorously.
“Not in the least,” he said. “We did manage to find Yuffie, though.”
Barret snorted. “And lose that fat ass.”
“Don’t you get it, Cid?!” Tifa yelled, her voice cracking with emotion. “Cloud is gone! We’re probably never going to see him ever again! What the hell’s wrong with you?! Are you freakin’ brain dead?! But if you want to sit here and play with your damn soap suds, fine!”
“My problem?! What the hell’s yours?!” he demanded. “It’s not my fault Aeris made off with him, is it?! What’dya want me to do?! Freakin’ walk up to her during her dramatic escape from Midgar and say, ‘Excuse me, but Cloud ain’t leaving’? Or snap my magic fingers and stop them? What the #$@*’s with that?!”
“At least you couldn’t kept this place in some sort of freakin’ order?! Would that be too much to ask from you?!”
“Damn it, Tifa! I didn’t do this! The mess’s his!” He pointed to Vincent to mark his words. The other man glared at him from underneath the black locks of his hair as the three turned away from Cid and to him. No one said anything.
“Holy crap! What happened to your bar, Tifa?” Yuffie asked, her eyes wide in shock as she pushed through the congregation standing in the doorway. “And what are you doing here?”
Vincent shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought maybe I’d come by and say hello.”
Barret’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are ya here? Ya ain’t working for the Shinra again, right?” Cid slapped his forehead and groaned.
Vincent shook his head. “No.”
“You felt the need to drop by, right?” Yuffie asked, hefting the Oritsuru. “I don’t trust him,” she declared, looking to Barret and back again.
“Good, ’cause I don’t either,” he agreed. “How do we know ya ain’t on their side?”
Cid shook his head, covering his eyes with one hand. “Look, he’s clean. He ain’t working for them.”
Barret raised his gun arm. “How do ya know that? Unless you’re working for them.”
Cid groaned. “Barret, I think you outdid yourself with the stupidity factor. Two Shinra showed up here. He killed ’em.”
“God, you’re a liar,” Marlene stated. Cid turned around to her, finding her sitting on the stairs, her teddy bear draped over her knees. “You told me nothing happened.”
Cid shook his head. “I told you that so you would go back to bed.”
Marlene shrugged. “I know. It just isn’t fair. I always get caught lying.”
Cid frowned. “Now I have. Are you happy?”
“What else have ya lied about?” Barret asked, his voice a dangerous growl.
“Damn it! Where the hell are you getting this crap?!” he demanded, his small will over his anger breaking again. He turned on the group standing near the doorway. “Come on, tell me! What else have I lied about?! I would really like to know! Just for curiosity’s sake, you know.” His gaze jumped from person to person, but no one responded. “No takers? Damn, I was hoping someone would, so I could figure out all my little, white lies. Maybe I lied about my age? I’m seventy-eight, right, Barret?” He frowned. “Or maybe the color of my eyes? They’re blue! #@&*$%-@#$%&*’ blue! But I bet if you looked close enough, you could see that they’re really pink. You would see that, wouldn’t you?”
He started to push through them to the door. “I’m not going to put up with this #$%& anymore. I’m leaving.”
You – you can’t! Aeris stammered, her voice urgent.
He frowned. Why the hell not? They don’t need a liar to help them get Cloud back. They sure as hell don’t need me.
I do. Take me to the City of the Ancients. I need your help.
Cid snorted, brushing Aeris from his mind. As an afterthought, he turned back to Tifa, his eyes dark. “I got ten that says Cloud’s at the City of the Ancients. You want him, go get him… if you wanna trust a liar.”
He turned heel without waiting for a reply, storming out into the night.
“Nygel’s dead. Screw the mission.”
Elena glowered at Raice, her face reddening with anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” she demanded. “Are you saying that Reno just died for jack squat?!”
Raice shrugged. “This is a war. Wars have casualties. Reno was stupid for taking that job in the first place. Shinra’s a bunch of lying weasels dressed up in suits. He shoulda thought of that before he took the job.”
“This was supposed to be a simple get-in-get-out deal.”
“ ‘Supposed to be’ being the operative phrase, right?” Raice looked away, shaking his head. “This ain’t worth it anymore.”
“What do you mean by that?!” Elena snapped, rising up out of her chair. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying because you’d better not be.” Her eyes found Rude’s shaded ones, and he arched one eyebrow coolly before returning to his work of absentmindedly staring at the gun across his knees.
“I’m saying that this is a big bunch of crap. Being a Turk lost its appeal years ago, Elena. Even you can’t be so dumb as to not realize that. All this is is a lousy pension and a ratty blue suit. The Turks are dead; they were dead with Tseng. What fools you are to think that that’s not the truth. And now Reno’s dead, and all you have left is a stupid mission. I hope you dedicate it to him.”
“That should have remained unspoken,” Rude declared, running a hand over his bald head. “Have a little more respect for the dead. He may be gone, but he had something that you lack. He was loyal to his friends.”
Raice frowned. “Then why’d he sacrifice himself for the good of his enemies?” he questioned, his eyes liquid ice.
Elena pursed her lips. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Raice barked a short laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, come on, Elena. You can’t be that stupid. You were right there. Why do you think he was standing out in the open? It wasn’t for us, I can tell you that.”
Elena looked to Rude for verification, but the man just shrugged. “I never saw any of it,” he said, “until it was too late.”
“God, you really are dense.” Raice stood, picking up his jacket. “Reno was shooting Gainsborough off of that other chick. Machine gun,” he made explanatory motions, “right across him. Took him down before he could say ‘shave and a haircut’.” Raice merely shrugged. “It was foolish of him to do that. Let them kill each other, I say.”
“Well, you have no honor,” Elena growled.
Raice brushed the comment away. “And then Rude brought out his shotgun and blew away the guy casting Cure on him.”
Elena spun to face the bald man, her eyes wide in surprise. “You did what?!”
Rude sighed and helplessly shrugged. “It was Reeve dressed up for Halloween again. Who knows what side he’s on, anyway? He could’ve been killing him.”
Raice snorted. “Not likely. If anything’s to blame for Reno’s death, it’s his foolishness and your naivete.”
Rude stiffened at the words. “Now, you look here – ”
“No, you look here!” Raice ordered, cutting off Rude. “Reno was an idiot to even get into this Black Materia crap again. He got what he deserved.”
“The hell he did! I’m gonna give you what you deserve!”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Fine.” Rude stood and brought the shotgun up off of his lap. He didn’t bother to even aim as he pulled the trigger. The explosion of the shot echoed through the small room that contrived their office, sending Rude back a step.
Raice’s body fell to the ground, followed shortly by the sickening splatter of the remains of his chest hitting the wall. Blood pooled out beneath him, leaking from the gaping hole in his torso and soaking into the white carpeting. Elena grimaced; that was going to leave a nasty stain.
“Why did you do that?” she asked, looking from the dead body to where Rude was standing, his shotgun now lowered at his side. He merely shrugged.
“He pissed me off.”
Reeve stared gloomily at the walls of their cell, a frown creasing his brow and his lips pursed in thought. He hadn’t taken into consideration that Scarlet and Heidegger had been able to build up more support in the past few weeks. He hadn’t even considered them to be the cause of the problems in the Shinra office. Why hadn’t he seen this earlier? What had distracted him so much so that he could miss what was right under his nose?
“Well, I hope you’re satisfied,” Cait Sith declared with a small harumph to punctuate his words and breaking Reeve from his thoughts.
“Actually, I am,” Reno simply stated though he wished his body was in as good a shape as his ego. He was stretched across the only bed in the small cell, using the mog’s arm as a pillow, listening to the thundering of his heart in his head. He probably looked as bad as he felt, bruises and aches in places he didn’t know existed. “Did you see the look on her face?”
Reeve smiled, unable to stop a small chuckle from escaping his mouth. “It definitely was sweet. I’ve never seen her look so utterly… dejected in my entire life. I’ve been waiting a long, long time for someone to just give her a whack.”
“Was it worth it, though?” Cait Sith queried, unable to grasp the humor they obviously saw in the situation.
Reno would have shrugged if he hadn’t been prone. “I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.”
Cait Sith crossed his arms across his chest. “I hate to break it to you, but your life’s gonna be a short one if we don’t get outta here.”
“True. Of course, I plan on busting out of this puke hole before that happens.”
The little cat snorted. “And how do you plan to do that? We don’t exactly have any way of doing it, and, after that stunt you just pulled, we are now further away from escape than we used to be.”
Reno sat up, pushing himself away from the large mog. “Cait, my dear friend, you’re insulting my ingenuity. I’ll think of something.”
“Sure, and I’ll sprout wings and fly outta here.”
“Why don’t you try that? It could be a help,” Reno said sweetly, but there was venom in his eyes.
Cait Sith frowned, a pout coming to his face. “Shut up.”
Reno raised his eyebrows. “I was truly sincere. Did I sound sarcastic, Reeve? I didn’t mean to sound sarcastic.”
Reeve sighed, shaking his head. “It’s too hard to tell with you, Reno. You may want to work on that in the future.”
Reno shrugged, leaning his back against the wall. “Looks like we’re gonna have a lot time to work on speaking skills.”
“Guess so.”
An uneasy silence fell over the group, no one having anything to say. Reeve returned to his dismal thoughts, cursing himself for his own short-sightedness. Reno absentmindedly wondered what Elena was doing, trying to bring up a picture of her in his mind but always coming up blank, his thoughts wandering to far less pleasant ones. Cait Sith amused himself by twiddling his thumbs.
The door opened, and a man dressed in a garish green suit entered, his long beard bouncing over his stomach. No one in the cell paid much heed to him, giving him only a sideways glance before returning their attention to their own thoughts. Heidegger frowned, his face reddening in anger.
“I would appreciate some respect from my prisoners,” he declared, his voice gruff.
Reno pursed his lips, debating whether or not to voice the insult growing in his mind. He finally shook his head. “Nah. Too easy.”
Heidegger glared at the Turk, his piggy eyes narrowed considerably. “I won’t ask you to voice your opinions of me, Reno, because, quite frankly, your opinions means nothing. I could care less what you do, even though you do provide some good entertainment, especially that show with Scarlet.” Heidegger gave him applause in a quiet small clap. “Well played.”
Reno nodded. “Thank you. I do try to keep things a little interesting in this eternal boredom.”
Cait Sith stood. “I wish to voice an objection to this treatment. My poor mog’s stuffing is falling out all over the place!”
Heidegger glanced once at Reeve. “How dreadfully annoying! Really, Reeve, how do you put up with him?”
Cait Sith frowned again. “I resent that comment!”
Heidegger shrugged, tugging once on his beard. “I don’t.”
Reeve rubbed his brow, returning Heidegger’s look. “What do you want, Heidegger? I don’t think you came here to exchange pleasantries.”
Heidegger looked crestfallen. “Ah, Reeve, don’t you like me?”
Reeve exchanged a glance with Reno. The latter answered the question. “No, not really.”
“Well, no one asked you, anyhow!”
“I did,” Reeve declared. “It was telepathic, so you couldn’t have heard it. You know psychics and junk. I’m enlightened in the ways of telepathy.”
“Bull. And no one cares what he thinks, anyhow.” He glanced to the Turk. “I already told you that, didn’t I?”
Reno shrugged. Reeve shifted on the hard floor. “What do you want, Heidegger? I’m getting tired of this.”
“I’m getting tired of you.” He leaned closer to Reeve, eyeing him carefully with his black gaze. “What’s the password to your computer?”
Reeve pursed his lips. “Give me one good reason why I should tell you.”
Heidegger frowned, his face hard as stone. “If you don’t I’ll personally make sure you suffer a long time before you die.”
“It’s a reason, but I’ll have to decline. You might want to start at the first word in the dictionary. If it’s not in there, have fun running through an infinite combination.” Reeve smiled smally. “My mind is drawing blank. You’ll have to excuse me in my old age. Senility.”
Heidegger’s frown deepened as he turned back to the door. “Enjoy your senility while it lasts. We have ways of making you talk.”
Reno stood, jutting his lips out, his brow furrowed. He turned on his companion. “Yes, Reeve,” he said, his voice low and jeering in a mock imitation of Heidegger. “You will talk, and you will like it.” On his last words, he creased his brow expectantly.
Heidegger turned an interesting shade of purple. He hurriedly exited the room.
When the door closed, Reeve couldn’t hold a straight face anymore. He burst out laughing, gasping for breath. Cait Sith hid his chuckles behind his paws, covering his mouth. Reno slumped to the ground, a wide grin on his face.
“Priceless expression!” Reeve gasped, futilely attempting to stifle his chuckles. “Simply priceless! His and yours both!”
Reno chuckled. “And, alas, I can only imagine mine for I was without a mirror. I think I missed my calling. I should’ve been a politician.”
Reeve shook his head, smiling nonetheless. “Yeah, you certainly know how to bring out the worst in people.”
The Turk’s grin couldn’t get any more roguish or wider. “It’s a practiced art. My only strong point in school. Obnoxiousness 101.”
“Class clown?” Reeve asked, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.
Reno shook his head, his eyes twinkling at the irony. “Most likely to succeed.”
Pathetic.
“Huh?”
Weak, pathetic, foolish, feeble…
Cloud blinked the black from his eyes.
Puppet… weak, weak puppet… dance for me, sing for me, puppet…
Water dripped, a shallow sound on cold marble.
Let me pull the strings, puppet… pathetic…
A wind howled through his mind with whispered voices for passengers.
I’ll make you dance, make you kill… you are nothing…
Cloud rolled onto his back, shutting his eyes tightly from the pain.
… without me… nothing… no master to pull the strings…
He groaned.
Dance… dance for me…
“Did you think I’d let you get away from me, my love?”
Cloud opened his eyes to come face to face with the emerald orbs of his nightmares.
Sephiroth… Sephiroth… pathetic…
But it wasn’t Sephiroth; it was someone far worse. She grinned maliciously at some jest that he neither saw nor heard. And he felt the fear come gnawing at his innards, almost a tangible creature that fed off his flesh and snapped his bones. Crack. Drip.
Fear not, puppet… pathetic by nature… pulled up by your master… weak puppet…
Aeris giggled, her smile still small yet somehow gaining malevolence. “Why do you fear me so?” she asked, her voice bittersweet, soft as silk but cold as ice. “I won’t hurt you, love. Stay with me forever. Love me forever.”
Cloud shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “I can’t love a sadistic bitch.”
Aeris’ giggle changed into a laugh. “Is that what you think me to be? How pathetically ignorant!”
Stupid… foolish puppet…
Cloud stared deep into those green eyes so reminiscent of the Lifestream. “You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy the hurt of others. Why do you do this?”
Aeris’ smile wavered only for a second. “Out of love. For you.”
Puppet’s strings… pulled and twisted… as is she… as are you…
“Pull those strings however hard you wish; I’ll never serve you,” he growled, a menacing tone diffusing into his voice. But no amount of menace could ward away the voices inside his head.
Ha, ha… make a stand where the bravest would sit… foolish puppet…
The rancor bled from Aeris’ smile and into her eyes, an inner light glowing hungrily within them. “Won’t you serve me? Rule the world; you can be so much more with me. You can have so much more than your pathetic Tifa. Besides, you did love me. Before.”
Cloud’s eyes grew hard. “You are not Aeris.” He frowned, pushing himself into a sitting position and slowly sliding across the marble floor and away from her. “I won’t be your puppet. I won’t dance for anyone,” he growled, though more to the howling laughter reverberating through his skull than to the woman kneeling before him.
“You don’t have to be a puppet forever,” she whispered. “I can make you strong. No strings to hold you to your fate. No people to bind you, no Planet to scold you for your mistakes. So many things can be undone. So many possibilities. Money, love, power…”
Puppets have no power… fools have no power… weak…
Cloud’s frown deepened, and he fought the urge to clutch his head, to attempt to drown out this never-ending stream of hatred from infiltrating his thoughts and spiting his very words. From where was it coming? Why wouldn’t it stop?
“Be with me and be strong for all eternity. Be with me and be loved by someone more deserving of love than Tifa. Never be stung by shallow words and silence. Cared for, loved for… Be with me. Love me,” Aeris ordained. A pleading note was easily evident in her entire demeanor, a plaintive pain locked deep within those eyes. How could such wide, innocent eyes love to hear the screams of another echoing through the night and see them as a symbol of power? How could this be?
“Forget Tifa. She will soon find that nothing is fair in love and war, and I always win. You will love me.” And a hungry look replaced the plaintive one as she seemingly looked straight through him and into his very soul.
And the look and her words made him angry.
Puppet’s anger’s cheap… worth its weight in dust… forceless anger…
And the voices made him angry.
The water dripped, a shallow sound on the cold marble floor. Drip… drip…
“Shut up!”
Aeris reeled back from his anger before she felt her own.
“Love me, damn you!”
Her hand rose against him.
Crack.
Drip… drip…
Blackness invaded his vision.
Pathetic.
© Junj, 1998
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