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.

 

Cloud Cover Part Two

The Destroyer

By Junj

     “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.

     Scarlet leaned back in Reeve’s chair, glancing at her reflection in his computer’s screen. Her hair was perfect. Her face was flawless. Her eyes were thoughtful, though her mind was not pondering anything seemingly important. She was wondering how she could possibly persuade Reno to come back on her side. He was such a delight when he was a friend and a damned, obnoxious nuisance when he was a foe. It was a puzzle why he had left, but she could get him back. She would.
     The possibilities were limitless.
     And then the phone rang.
     “Damn,” she muttered, leaning forward in the chair, her concentration broken. Who would want to call her at this hour? It was lunch time. Nobody worked at lunch time. It was supposed to be a nice, quiet time used for unwinding. Not endless phone calls.
     “What do you want?!” she snapped into the mouthpiece after picking the phone up off of the cradle.
     The voice at the other end was not a welcomed one. “Why so harsh, Scarlet?” Aeris asked, mock sweetness in her tone. “I didn’t interrupt your lunch hour again, did I? I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
     “Cut the crap, Aeris,” Scarlet ordered, her own voice tight with barely controlled anger. “What do you want?”
     Aeris clicked her tongue in a reprimand. “Temper, temper, Scarlet. You might want to consider therapy. I hear Dr. Huiji is very skilled in multiple areas of psychology as well as other things.” She quietly groaned, interrupting herself. “Oops… I forgot. I killed him. You’ll have to find someone else.”
     “I don’t want to hear about your plunders and pillage, Aeris. I’m in the middle of something right now, and if you don’t tell me what it is you want, I’m going to hang up the phone.” The threat hung in the air but was never carried out.
     “You aren’t after another guy, are you, Scarlet?” Aeris asked, a scold ready on her lips. “Let me guess. It’s that fool Reno that you’ve captured, right? Give him a few whacks with love from me. And a warning never to shoot at me again.”
     Scarlet laughed shortly. “He’s already been kicked for being a bastard,” she informed. “I imagine he’s sitting down there with that self-satisfied smirk painted on his face while he licks his wounds.”
     Aeris’ voice picked up a colder tone. “Well, kick him again. He ruined my manicure and lowered my self-esteem a few notches. I would feel so much better knowing that he was truly paying for that.”
     Scarlet frowned. “What’s in all this for me?” she carefully asked. She didn’t want to be pulled into some stupid plot with someone as untrustworthy as Aeris.
     “Nothing.”
     Scarlet’s frown deepened. “Nothing? What kind of deal is this? I do a favor for you and get absolutely nothing in return? Not quite fair there, Aeris.”
     Aeris sighed. “As my poor Cloud has just recently discovered, few things are.”
     Scarlet’s eyes lit up at the mention of Strife. There was a man. The man. The man who had killed Sephiroth, the man who had saved the Planet, the man with the hair. Even Reno’s hair couldn’t compare to it. An evil grin spread across her features. Screw Reno; she was after the bigger fish in the pond. “How about you let me come visit Mr. Strife in return for this favor you ask?”
     The answer was curt and sweet. “No.”
     Scarlet ignored it. “What was that Aeris? You’re breaking up. I can’t hear you.”
     “Cut the crap. I said no.”
     “Was that an affirmative?” Her grin widened. “Great. How about tomorrow? I’ll give Reno a few more kicks, take a Polaroid, and you can see my handiwork.”
     “Scarlet, no!”
     Aeris’ voice was a mere screech as Scarlet returned the telephone to the cradle. Cloud Strife could still be hers. All she had to do was kill Aeris. Reno could be left to the dogs. Why stay with him when she could have someone so much better? Out with the old, and in with the new.
     She stood and started to the door, her thoughts racing. What am I going to wear?!

     Elena couldn’t believe she was doing this. It was despicable, it was foul, it was low. This was the last place she wanted to be right now. But here she was, standing in front of the Seventh Heaven, about to go have a chat with Tifa Lockhart against her better judgements. She wasn’t here for herself, though. She was here for Reno.
     About an hour ago, she and Rude had persuaded a guard to spill his guts about the laboratory raid. Apparently they had taken prisoners who were, most importantly, alive. The guard hadn’t outright said Reno’s name, but Elena knew no one else with a “red fro” as the guard had put it. And then there was the mog and Reeve. Surely Tifa would be willing to help them if she knew that the Shinra had Reeve as well.
     With one last tug at her suit jacket and a grim determination, she opened the door and entered the Seventh Heaven, unarmed.
     Tifa glanced up from behind the counter, a fake smile on her face to greet the two newcomers. Her eyes were red from apparent lack of sleep and crying. Elena had seen the struggle as Aeris and her men had yanked Strife out from under Tifa’s nose. Somehow, seeing her hurt for the one she loved made Elena feel stronger about the own grief she felt for Reno.
     The weak smile faded away as Tifa realized exactly who had come to visit her. She set the glass she had been cleaning down on the bar.
     “Well, what do you want?” she asked, unafraid to voice her displeasure with a grim tone.
     Elena moved into the bar room, slowly, hoping that Tifa wouldn’t take that as an act of aggression. She cleared her throat. “We need your help,” she stated nonchalantly, though the words stung her deeply. Asking an enemy for help… she shook her head.
     Tifa frowned at her words, her gaze flickering past Rude. She leaned forward on the counter. “Give me one good reason why I should help you,” she growled. “All you’ve ever done is make my life a miserable hell.”
     Elena couldn’t suppress her anger. “You ungrateful wench!”
     “I’m ungrateful? What do I have from you that I could be grateful of?” She wiped a drop of water from the bar with her rag, shaking her head. “I can’t think of a thing.”
     Elena frowned. “Not to me. I could care less what you think of me! I’m taking about Reno.”
     Tifa snorted, her brow creased. “So? What about him? I take note that he’s not here.”
     “You’re sharp.”
     “I despise sarcasm,” she declared, her voice quiet with anger.
     “I live for it,” Elena replied. “You’re really clueless, aren’t you?”
     “About what?” Tifa sighed. “I’m getting tired of these games, Elena. I don’t have time for this. You can leave now. The exit’s right over there.” She pointed to the door to punctuate her words. Elena didn’t give it so much as a glance.
     She narrowed her eyes, her lips a thin line, tightly compressed with her anger. “Who do you think shot Aeris off of you at the laboratory?” she asked. “I can tell you that it wasn’t one of your people.”
     Tifa wasn’t buying Elena’s words. “What were you doing there, anyway? I can tell you it wasn’t to help us.”
     Elena set her jaw. It was now time for the moment of truth. Should she divulge the Turks’ secrets just to get help from her enemies? Would it be worth it? She glanced back at Rude, but he only gave her a small shrug, offering no guidance. Elena turned back to Tifa, slowly nodding to herself. She would. She owed at least this much to Reno.
     She took a deep breath. “We were there on a job for some doctor who hired us out.”
     Tifa nodded, realization coming across her face. “Oh, that’s right. The Turks are mercenaries now.”
     Elena expected the words to hide some sort of jeer and was nonplussed when they didn’t. She shrugged it off and continued. “This doctor, Nygel Something-or-rather, wanted us to swipe Black Materia from his own lab. A real loon. Then he told us to give it to Reeve.”
     Tifa nearly did a double-take. Black Materia? This was bad. That thing had nearly destroyed the Planet once and now it was on the loose? She shook her head but continued on trying to find out what the Turks wanted. “So, you’re saying that in essence you were hired by Reeve?”
     Elena shrugged. “I don’t know who hired us. It could have been Reeve, but the doctor could’ve also been scared out of his mind and pulled a name out of thin air. All I know is that when we got there, you had already started fighting the Shinra. Some time in that confusion, Reno got it in his head to help you and pulled off a coupla shots at Aeris. He was taken down doing that. We never found the Black Materia. We don’t know where Reno is.”
     Tifa bit her lower lip, thinking over Elena’s story. It fit the scenario too well to be false, but something told her that Elena wasn’t telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth. She arched an eyebrow, expectantly. “And? What happened that you aren’t telling me?”
     Elena inwardly cursed, glancing back at Rude. She had hoped that she wouldn’t have to divulge this little secret, but they needed Tifa’s trust too much not to. What she said next could either gain that trust or destroy whatever trust they had already attained.
     Elena cleared her throat. “Actually, there was a misunderstanding.”
     Rude groaned. “Oh, cut the crap, Elena,” he growled. “Miss Tifa, I am truly sorry for my actions, but it seems as though I blew a hole through that mog Reeve’s little cat is always running around on. You have my deepest regrets.”
     Tifa covered her mouth with one hand in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting that to be the rest of it. And she wouldn’t have expected them to tell her. The Turks must really need help, she thought, her gaze shifting from between them. Turk and truth are not two words I would normally associate with each other. She nodded.
     “I don’t know why, Rude, but somehow I believe you are being sincere. I trust you. I’ll help you.”
     The breath Elena finally realized she had been holding escaped her lungs in a whoosh. She struggled to maintain her cool. “Thank you, Tifa.”
     Tifa managed a small smile. “Don’t thank me, yet. We still have to find Reno.” She grabbed the Turk by the arm, pulling her out of the bar and down the hall. “Tell me about this Black Materia…”
     Yuffie frowned from where she was hiding, slowly opening the door leading out into the bar. Black Materia? Gawd! She couldn’t believe it. She had swiped the Black Materia from the laboratory and out from under the Turks’ noses? Unbelievable. But she couldn’t give them the materia; she couldn’t trust them easily with it. After all, this was the junk that had nearly destroyed the entire Planet. She hurried out of the Seventh Heaven.

     “Cid?”
     Cid didn’t stray away from his work to look for the voice. He knew who it was; it was the one person who had managed to imprint the Highwind with the putrid stench of her bile. It had taken weeks for him to get the pleasant aroma of oil and grease back into its rightful place. He continued welding down the connection between the fuselage and the wing, sending a spray of sparks into the air.
     “Cid!”
     He clicked the blowtorch off, removing the protective covering from his face, turning to face the persistent annoyance. “Go away, Yuffie. I don’t have any materia.”
     She didn’t leave but, instead, sat down on top of a crate filled with scrap metal and bits and pieces of the plane. A wide grin was painted on her young face. “I know. I stole it all already at that laboratory. Do you want it back?”
     He pulled himself out from under the Gay Boat, examining the job he had just finished. He set the blowtorch on top of the wing. “Keep it,” he said absentmindedly. “Materia won’t work against the woman we’re fighting. But you ain’t the truthful, repentant type, so why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
     Yuffie cringed. “Actually, I was wondering if you could do a favor for me?”
     Cid pulled a cigarette from his pack, sitting it in his mouth but not lighting it. “Depends on what it is.”
     “Hide this somewhere.” She held up a small blue-black sphere, its curves twinkling in the light. He didn’t need to ask to know what it was. He hid his shock.
     “Where’dya get it?” he asked. Yuffie shrugged.
     “I found it.”
     Cid chuckled. “I’m sure you did.” He immediately sobered at the sound of Aeris’ voice. Take it. Give it to someone you trust, someone Aeris can’t touch. Instinct was screaming at him to throw the materia into the deepest ocean, but he nodded solemnly. “Give it here, and I’ll mail it to someone when we get back to the Seventh Heaven.”
     Yuffie grinned. “Sure, but you gotta tell me who it is. It’s still my materia, y’know.”
     He shrugged. “Whatever.”
     “Yuffie, can I speak with Cid alone for a moment?” Tifa winced as Cid visibly stiffened at the sound of her voice. Yuffie glanced between them before hopping off of the crate. She started walking away but broke into a run when she thought they weren’t looking.
     Cid turned around to look at Tifa. “Yes?”
     She shifted her weight from one foot to another, breaking her gaze. Red burned at her face as she stammered for words. “I didn’t mean to… I mean, I was angry… I didn’t mean to take it out on you…” She trailed off, looking back into those horrible Mako eyes. She wasn’t expecting them to be glowing with mirth. Her brow furrowed in anger. “And I’m sorry! And I was wrong! Are you happy?” she growled.
     He chuckled, a broad grin lighting up his features. “You’ve never told me you were wrong before,” he declared. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
     She half-shrugged. “But you did ruin my bar. You’re lucky that blood didn’t soak into the floor ’cause I’d be out here killing you instead of apologizing.”
     “That’s nice.” He nonchalantly picked up the blowtorch, re-igniting the flame. He brought the edge of the flame to the end of his cigarette, lighting the smoke before snuffing out the blowtorch.
     God, you’re weird, Aeris declared.
     Tifa’s brow furrowed. “You are strange.”
     Cid grinned again, laughing at both their words. Tifa pursed her lips. “What’s so funny?” she asked.
     He shook his head, unable to smother the smile on his face. “Nothin’.”
     Neither said anything, listening to the waves crash against the shore in the distance. The wind blew across the plain, ruffling their hair and clothing. Silence reigned, though it was not as uncomfortable as some of the silences they often shared.
     “Cid?”
     He glanced up from the ground at the sound of her voice, taking the cigarette from his mouth and blowing a trail of smoke into the breeze. He flicked the ash from the end of it before returning it to his mouth. “Yeah?”
     “Elena and Rude came to the bar today, and they asked for my help,” she explained. “I said I would give it to them.” She stopped, waiting for any type of input he might give her.
     He merely shrugged. “So? It’s not like they’re still working for Shinra, and if they were, they’d be working for Reeve. What’s the problem?”
     Tifa smiled smally. “Well, you see, Barret’s gonna get pissed when he hears…”
     Cid nodded in understanding, a grin coming to his face. “I know. Just forget it. I think he has deep-rooted psychological problems that begin with his obsession with Mr. T. ‘I pity da foo’ who wears blue suits.’ ‘I pity da foo’ who don’t watch Fat Albert.’ ‘I pity da foo’ who ate my Mr. T cereal.’ ”
     Tifa shook her head but laughed nonetheless. “One of these days, he’s gonna hear what you say about him, and I’ll pity da foo’ who insults Barret.”
     “Who’s insulting Barret?” he asked, his most innocent expression painted on his face. “I was talking about someone else.”
     “Yeah, right. I believe you.”
     Cid grinned. “Good, ’cause that way Barret’ll never know any of my smartest insults.”
     Tifa grabbed his arm. “They’re not smart; you’re just stupid,” she said, though there was no sting hidden in her voice. She started pulling him back to where she had tied the chocobos. “Come on, let’s go meet the Turks.”

     “Are you back again?” Reno asked, glancing at her as she walked into the doorway. He groaned, leaning against the stark wall of the cell. “I was rather hoping you’d carry out my wishes and just… die.”
     Scarlet smirked, but her eyes were cold. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you by not disappointing you.”
     Reno just shrugged at her words, too tired to bother to voice any smart remarks. She waited for one and was surprised when he didn’t take the bait. She hid her shock well, merely standing in the doorway. She made no move to enter the room.
     “You’re losing your touch, Reno,” she declared, smoothing a wrinkle out of her tight dress. “I was expecting another one of your delightful charms.” She ran a hand over her hair, checking to make sure it was in perfect order. “No matter. I’m after a bigger man now.”
     Reno merely gave her a sideways glance. “The mog’s over in the corner. You’re free to have him. He’s not a big conversationalist, though.”
     Cait Sith looked openly hurt at Reno’s words. “That’s not nice. You’re being inconsiderate to Mog’s feelings.” The mog growled an assent.
     Reeve grinned. “Cait Sith, I’m sure that Scarlet isn’t really after your mog. She’d much rather prefer to have Palmer. Two men and a half can fit into him.”
     Scarlet raised her eyebrows, looking at Reeve with a glint of menace in her dark eyes. “Reeve, have you been taking lessons from Reno, or did you have the brains to think of that yourself?”
     Reeve shrugged. “You’d be surprised at the insults my mind can think of.”
     Scarlet sniffed indignantly. “It’s always the quiet ones.” She turned her gaze back to all the occupants of the room. “However, I did not come here to exchange insults.”
     “Could’ve fooled me,” Reno muttered.
     Her angry gaze snapped to him. “Watch your step, Reno. You’re already on my *&%$ list.” She cleared her throat. “I came because of a little favor for a friend of mine.”
     Reno’s brow creased as if to tell her that he didn’t care why she had come. She knew he didn’t care at the moment. He would soon enough.
     She sauntered into the room, her steps small due to her tight dress and high-heeled shoes. “It has been brought to my attention by this friend of mine that you have disgraced her and, worse yet, injured her. Not very chivalrous, Reno.”
     “You can send her my regards,” he said dryly.
     Scarlet shook her head. “No, she doesn’t want your regards. She probably would like to see you dead, but, alas, it will not be so. You are my prisoner, after all. However, it would not do to have her angry with me considering our shaky coalition. Therefore, Reno, I must do something.” She walked next to him, her heels allowing her to stare face to face with him and not be dwarfed by his height. “What shall I do?”
     “Like I care?” he asked, even though her question was clearly rhetorical. “Shoot me, kick me, whatever. Just make it quick. I hate long waits.”
     “So do I.” She brought a clenched fist back and punched him across the jaw. He fell back, tripping over his own feet and hitting the floor with a thud. The air exited his lungs in a whoosh, and he heard a clear ringing in his ears. The iron taste of blood filled his mouth, the crimson liquid dribbling down his cheek from a split lip.
     Scarlet loomed over him like the ominous cloud which drowned the light from the sun and smothered the life from terra. She cast a shadow over his face, darkening the world from his eyes. He wiped the blood from his lower lip with his hand as he pushed himself back up. Her foot came down onto his chest, the needle thin heel of it boring painfully into his breastbone.
     “You, Reno, are the hungry puppy that gets beaten yet continues to get up and beg for scraps,” she hissed. “Stay down.”
     She pulled her foot off of his chest, turning around in a frenzy of color. Her hair flared away from her head as she turned and bounced as she walked quickly to the door. She pushed the guards out of the cell before leaving herself. The door slammed behind her, ringing through the small cell with a metallic clang that somehow shattered all their fervent hopes and wishes of ever escaping.

     “I object to this course of action,” Barret declared, his expression dark with mistrust and anger. “How do we know we can trust ’em?!”
     Tifa shook her head, sharing a knowing glance with Cid. She had foreseen this; she had known that Barret would not like this plan. It was a good idea, an excellent alliance, and perfectly sound. Of course Barret wouldn’t like the plan. Tifa sighed.
     “Barret, you don’t have to live with them or even share a meal with them. Hell, you don’t even have to trust them,” she said. “They came to us for our help. They’re under our control, if you’d prefer to see it that way. But I think we owe our help to at least Reno. He did, after all, save me.”
     Barret snorted. “That shot coulda been from anywhere.”
     “But it wasn’t. So, regardless of whether you’re gonna help me or not, I’m going to help them.”
     “Even if it means losing Cloud?” he asked, his brown eyes cold.
     Tifa frowned, her own tawny gaze freezing over like a puddle in winter. Her brow furrowed with anger. “That’s a cheap shot,” she growled.
     “The hell it is!” He leaned closer to him. “Stop bein’ a damn hypocrite. Ya know ya ain’t gonna stay here and find Reno. Ya owe it ta him ta get the rest of us helpin’ them Turks, but ya don’t owe it enough ta help ’em yourself. Cloud means more ta you than Reno ever will, and I know that, and Red knows that, and Cid knows that. And you know that.”
     Tifa looked away from Barret, unable to hold his gaze. She felt her face burning with embarrassment and shame. He was right. Nothing Reno, or anyone for that matter, could do would make her place him higher in her heart than Cloud. It wasn’t his fault or Cloud’s fault. Just hers.
     After an awkward moment of silence passed before Tifa cleared her throat to speak. “I guess this means you think I’m selfish.” She glanced at him. “And I am.”
     Barret placed a comforting, gentle hand on her shoulder though he towered over her like the thunderous peak of a mountain. The anger was seemingly gone from him, and a small smile lit his lips, gone almost before it had appeared. “Ya ain’t selfish. Ya just love him. Me? I would have anything for my Marlene, probably even if it meant leaving a couple of yous out to dry. #@$%, Tifa, ya can’t decide who ta love; it just happens.”
     Tifa nodded slowly. “But I am being selfish, right? First and foremost, I owe it to Reno to help him out.”
     Barret merely shrugged. “That’s nothing you can’t repay atta later date. Reno’s gonna be around for a long time. Turks are damn hard to kill.”
     She looked up to the face of the man beside her, a sudden hope coming to her eyes. “What are you saying?”
     A grin formed on his features, broadly shining through his normal grim tones. “Ya do whatcha have ta, and so will I. Break the team up. I’ll help out your Reno; go get Cloud.” He shrugged at his sudden change of heart. “Get there as fast as ya can, ’cause this here train’s never going to catch up with ’em if ya keep makin’ stops.”

     The table was immaculate, beautifully set due to hours of tedious and meticulous work. Shimmering silver lined with gold lay perfectly placed beside the delicate china. Whitened wax burned brilliantly in sterling candelabras, the light from their wicks glimmering at the edges of the crystalline glasses and the clear liquid within them. The mouth-watering aromas of delicious foods wafted through the air like the salt on a sea breeze, concentrated yet not overpowering, strong yet not unpleasant.
     Despite all the pleasing foods and tranquil atmosphere, there were thousands of places Cloud Strife would rather be. He would even prefer to be back in the darkness of the North Cave, absolute in his loneliness… no, not there, not there; never again would he dance for someone else like that. Never again.
     Puppets dance for masters… why can’t you see?
     He shook his head as if to rid himself of the voices – or voice, more appropriately – that haunted him now. Was it the voice of the mighty Sephiroth, attacking his mind with the spirit of evil, shadowing his hopes, shattering his dreams? He didn’t know, but Cloud didn’t want to fight these battles against a foe who could neither be hurt nor expelled from his thoughts. He was tired of the insults and the lies that this voice hurled at him from the darker portions of his mind.
     Lies or truths?
     Wicked laughter echoed between Cloud’s ears, an infinite cackle that somehow seemed borne on the wings of the past but was a constant reminder of the future to come. Of what he was to become if he let himself slip into the darkness like he had at the North Cave. He wouldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t.
     “You’re not eating,” came a voice. “Why not? Scarlet was kind enough to bring a little extra. Eat.”
     His gaze snapped up from the plate of delicacies and fine gourmet, meeting with the eyes of his captor, ice blue on sparkling emerald. His face hardened in silent anger, a frown forming on his lips.
     “I’m not hungry,” he declared darkly. He felt like the little boy dressed up neatly in his finest to have dinner with too snippy aunts, anxiously waiting to be released and freed back to his life of romping around in the dirt and mud. If it was at all possible, his expression grew more ominous. “May I be excused?”
     “No, you may not,” Aeris snapped. “Not until you clear off your plate.”
     Cloud’s frown widened. “You know there’s a distinct difference between hunger and appetite. If everyone ate in accordance to their appetite, we’d all be fat blobs sitting around on our asses and watching soaps all day. I’m not hungry.”
     Aeris stood, slamming her silverware down onto the lace tablecloth. “Fine! Starve then. Do you see what I have to put up with?! He’s like a little child willing to do anything just to spite me!”
     Scarlet gave Aeris half of a smile, her painted lips quivering. She nodded her head smally, raising an eyebrow as she looked over to Cloud. “I see, Aeris. I can really sympathize with you. I’ll gladly take him off of your hands.”
     Aeris frowned. “I bet you would.”
     “And what’s it to you?!” Scarlet demanded, rising as well. “You obviously can’t appreciate him.” The smirk returned to her face, and she winked at Cloud. “I can.”
     Cloud squirmed, a sudden pit of dread welling up in his stomach. He had faced countless dangers and somehow managed to come out on top, but that little gesture frightened him more so than most feral beasts. He looked anxiously for any way to escape.
     “And what do you mean by that?!” Aeris demanded, her face clouded with anger. Her voice lowered to a quieter and far more dangerous level. “Just what are you insinuating?”
     Scarlet laughed shortly. “You know exactly what I mean.” Her face became stone, harder than the marble on which she stood. “He’s too much of a man for you.”
     Aeris frowned, her brow furrowing and her eyes narrowing. “So what does that mean to you? If he’s too much of a man for me, he must be a helluva lot more than you can handle.”
     “You bitch,” Scarlet growled, clenching her hands into fists.
     “Slut.”
     Scarlet’s features softened. “Why, thank you.”
     “You would take that as a compliment, you two gil whore.”
     “And what are you? At least I don’t have to kidnap my men.”
     Aeris snorted. “What was that stunt with Reno? A walk in the park?”
     Scarlet frowned. “He was an enemy. Enemies get captured and taken prisoner.”
     “And have you make googly eyes at them,” Aeris added, small smirk twitching her lips. “And then some.”
     “So I know how to have a good time. More than I can say for you. You’re idea of a good time is the rack and a hot poker.”
     Aeris’ will snapped, her anger overcoming her. “Tramp,” she snarled, lunging forward. She rammed into Scarlet, her nails biting deeply into Scarlet’s flesh. They both went down in a collection of shrieks and yowls.
     Cloud watched the fight, wide-eyed until it finally came to blows. Then, he saw that this was his chance for escape. Slowly, he stood from his chair and started walking from the hall in which they had been eating.
     Aeris gave Scarlet one more whack to the head before she stood, wiping the blood from a split lip. Her gaze landed on Cloud’s empty seat, her eyes widening in surprise before narrowing again in anger. She turned back to Scarlet who was just now attempting to regain her composure as she struggled into a kneeling position.
     “You bitch,” Aeris growled. “Look at what you’ve done! You’ve let him get away.”
     “Me? You’re the one who started the argument.”
     Aeris frowned. “You would blame me for this situation. Scarlet, my dear, you’re trying my patience.” Her blue staff appeared in her hands, forming from the very air. “He is mine.” Before Scarlet could so much as scream, the blue staff, crackling with energy, sliced deeply into her neck, cutting through tendons and bones, slashing her trachea and her spinal cord. Blood slowly oozed from the wound, flowing from her severed veins and arteries as her headless body toppled to the ground. Her head rolled several feet away, her lifeless eyes staring into eternity, slightly widened in surprise.
     Aeris rose, the staff disappearing from her hands in a few wisps of blue. “Cloud!”

     Cloud stopped in his tracks as Aeris’ cry echoed through the arching halls and empty rooms of the City of the Ancients. The shear ferocity of the call was enough to freeze his blood and twist his innards. And then he started running.
     It was a while since the last time he had been in this city. She had died, then, and he would have given anything to have her back alive. Now there was nothing he wouldn’t do if it meant her death. Nothing. And somehow that scared him. Was it because he was no better than Sephiroth? Was he just like him? His legs pumped faster, ignoring the small stab of pain where the gunshot had been partially healed by Aeris. And he ran.
     You’re weak. Weak, weak, weak… scared of that weakness…
     Cloud shook his head in a silent denial, his lungs burning as he pushed himself far beyond his limits. It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t be another Sephiroth, so tired of being used, of being a puppet that he would wish someone dead. Had he always been like this? He ran, but the questions and fears would not disappear. They were always there; they were forever haunting him like he was some animal waiting to be poached. He could not run; he could not hide. There was nowhere to go when you were running from yourself.
     He ran around a corner and met with a flash of blue right in the face.
     Pain exploded in his head as he fell backwards, hitting the ground with a ringing blaring through his ears. Whatever breath he had left in his body exited his lungs as he fell, leaving him gasping for breath. The salty iron taste of his blood mingling with his sweat ran over his lips, the obvious source his nose.
     He was afraid to look up, all to aware of what he would see. He knew who would be there with her face hard with anger and her eyes narrowed dangerously with her rage. He knew what was coming. And he braced himself for it. He was not surprised when the first blow landed.
     “How could you do that to me?”
     Cloud didn’t respond, cringing and closing his eyes against the biting pain that accompanied the blue light. But by closing his eyes, he was only facing a more dangerous foe. Darkness crept up on his mind bringing with it the very nightmares that had awakened Cloud at night gasping for breath. The green drowning…

     “Well, what dya think?”
     Tifa slowly sucked in her breath, her gaze flitting over the monstrosity in front of her. The Tiny Bronco – well, Gay Boat – had had a complete refitting and sported a new structural design. The propellers on the wings had been flipped around to face the front of the plane. The cockpit had been expanded to fit three, even if it was a bit squished. The bright apple red color was faded and washed away to a more delicate pink. Gleaming metal mottled the places where Cid had patched the body. It wasn’t bad, but it didn’t look very sturdy.
     Vincent cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head. “It’s delightfully tacky, yet somehow unrefined,” he declared, looking over the plane. Tifa glanced at him while Cid beamed at the praise his brainchild was receiving.
     Tifa was not as willing to accept the plane. “Are you sure it’ll fly?” she asked, watching the grin fall from Cid’s features.
     “Sure it will. That wing ain’t gonna fall off again, either.” He pushed and pulled the one wing, rocking the entire plane. “See? No problems.”
     “No problems?” Yuffie blurted. “Look at the paint job. It looks like a blind man did it!”
     Cid frowned. “It faded, alright?” He glanced at the plane, grimacing at the puce-pink that it sported. “It’s reminiscent of your time aboard the Highwind. They call this color ‘Ode to Yuffie’.”
     Yuffie wrinkled her nose but kept her mouth shut. Barret raised his eyebrows in doubt, slowly shaking his head. “I dunno. It doesn’t look like it’ll fly.”
     The pilot sighed, rubbing his brow. “It’s either this or wait for the Highwind’s engines to start working again. It’ll fly, trust me. Besides, you’ve the best pilot in the entire Midgar Area to fly you there.” He held up his hand to cut any comment that Barret was about ready to blurt. “Don’t insult me, please, Barret.”
     “The wing fell off you said?” Red asked, closely scrutinizing the structure of the plane. “Are you sure it will hold against the stress during the flight?”
     As if on cue, the entire group started bickering and talking, the noise level around the plane rising considerably. Even the chocobos chirped and scratched at the earth in an attempt to gain attention.
     Tifa shook her head, massaging her temples of an ache which had settled there. This was getting nowhere fast. Red blabbed on about the durability of the plane while Yuffie wailed about the color. Barret and Cid seemed to be stuck in a argument of whether or not the plane would actually make it off the ground. In fact, the only one who didn’t seem affected at all by the overpowering rabble was Vincent, but that was to be expected. He was always the cool one. Right now, Tifa could feel her anger slipping away quite quickly.
     “Shut up!”
     All the people gathered there stopped talking, mid-sentence, and turned their attention to Tifa. She felt her face burning but didn’t apologize or back down. She needed to be a leader now, for Cloud.
     “Alright,” she said. “That’s better. Now, here’s the way it’s gonna work. There’s six of us here. We’ll break the group in half, so there’s gonna be two groups of three. One group will go to the City of the Ancients to look for Cloud –”
     “Why there?” Yuffie asked. “I mean, how do ya know to go there?”
     Tifa shook her head and didn’t answer her question. “It doesn’t matter, Yuffie. You’re going to stay here as part of the second group which will break Reeve and Cait Sith out of the slam.” She raised her hand. “No but’s, Yuffie.”
     Cid grinned. “Yeah, I don’t want the Ode to Yuffie to become authentic.” Barret and he broke out into laughter which was abruptly cut off by a glance from Tifa. Cid cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, joined shortly by Barret.
     “You guys are worse than two street boys,” Tifa scolded. “Show some respect. It’s not her fault she gets motion sickness. Apologize.”
     “Sorry,” Cid muttered. He felt like he was back in high school and got caught at a prank. A smile broke through his supposed shameful expression.
     Yuffie’s brow furrowed, a pout forming on face. “What’re you grinning at?”
     “Nothin’. I was just thinking about prank I pulled in high school.” At her questioning glance, he cleared his throat. “Ah, there was a bunch of clubs, you know, basic stuff. And I, naturally, participated in a club devoted to the wonders of aeronautics. But there was always this damn wuss group hanging around and revving up their hotrods or whatever the hell they were. They had little cubby-type things they kept all their tools and crap in. So, I decided to throw their lockers out of the top story of the school and into the snow as a winter break gift.”
     Tifa raised her eyebrows questioningly. “And?”
     Cid looked thoughtful for a moment. “And it would’ve worked, too, but I didn’t take into consideration the wind factor.” Barret snorted. Cid gave him a sideways glance.
     “Wind factor, my ass,” he declared, crossing his arms.
     “Mine too,” Cid agreed. “I put a locker through one of their windshields. They were pissed. The principal gets on my case, yelling and screaming ’bout the school having rules and crap. So this skinny little wuss guy gets out there and starts jabbering at the principal about a straight wind, getting all technical. The principal’s freakin’ clueless, everybody’s yelling, and I finally ended up with two months of detention.”
     “Is there a moral to this story?” Vincent asked, an utterly vacant look in his eyes.
     Cid shrugged. “Actually, yeah. If I hadn’t gotten caught, I probably wouldn’t be here. That wuss guy was Palmer.”
     “Ya mean Palmer wasn’t always fat?” Barret asked incredulously.
     “Nah. He was a skinny ass, too.”
     Yuffie frowned. “Man, you guys had all the fun! In my school, they won’t even let you pull the fire alarm between classes!”
     Red XIII cleared his throat. “Uh, I think we’re all out here for a mission,” he said, his one eye looking from person to person, “regardless of what you were allowed to do in class.”
     Tifa nodded. “Red’s right. Where was I?”
     “The Ode to Yuffie,” Cid interjected. Yuffie shot him a menacing glare that he promptly chose to ignore. “Yuffie’s stayin’ here.”
     “Okay,” Tifa rubbed her hands together, cracking her knuckles. “Red, it’s obvious that the Gay Boat won’t accommodate you comfortably. You can either live with that for a coupla hours, or you can stay here as well.”
     Red sat back on his haunches, a sheepish grin on his face. “I think I’ll stay. I have a feeling whoever goes is going to get a bath.”
     Cid turned a glare reminiscent of Yuffie’s on Red which the beast ignored. “It’ll fly.” He crossed his arms over his flight jacket. “You guys have no faith.”
     “It takes more than faith to fly across an ocean,” Red argued.
     “It doesn’t matter,” Tifa ordained. “I like a good swim now and then.” Cid frowned but didn’t say anything. “I guess that means you’re with us, Vincent seeming how Barret’s leading the second group. You okay with that?”
     Vincent merely shrugged, swinging his cape behind him. “Doesn’t matter.”
     “Can you swim?” Red asked, his tail whipping the ground in merriment.
     Cid’s face turned an interesting shade of dark red, and he shook violently with his anger. “You *#$&@# &%)#@*-#$^@*! I’m gonna kill you!”
     Red XIII’s grin was washed away as the pilot lunged for him, and he turned tail and pounced away. Cid grabbed the beast’s foot as he struggled to start running. “You think you’re just gonna insult my Gay Boat and get away with it?! Never!”
     Red kicked a mouthful of dirt into Cid’s face, causing the pilot to curse again as he spit it from his mouth. “You &*$#@%!” he yelled as Red started running. He staggered to his feet. “Get your ass back here!” They both disappeared behind a crest in the plains, invisible except for an occasional yelled obscenity. The rest of the group stood there in stunned silence. The chocobos cooed to themselves as though they were laughing at some private joke. Although the group didn’t know what it was, they soon followed suit.
     Except for Vincent who quietly turned away, the hurt growing within him like a bottomless pit. Lucrecia kept coming back at him, an relentless thought that would never let him be. He couldn’t laugh with them. His soul was far too scarred to be healed by simple laughter.

…feel small? weak, pathetic… fool…
not pathetic… not weak… not foolish
…nothing? not strong, either… what are you?
…
proud? … ha! proud cloud, proud cloud thunders… rains… lights…proud cloud cries teardrops for his mother…
…your mother…
…for his love…
…your death…
…for his life…his life is shorter than the air…life is the air which is no life at all but fervent wishes by peasants for his storms to go away…
the world is cruel, demon…you’re dead…
am i? stupidity was a strong point…i’ll live on forever with my mother…what have you got?
…
no love… no life… hatred, anger, weakness? pride… proud cloud was always too proud to leave without a show of light electricity scraping through the air… destroy those peasants… free the hatred bottled up with a downpour of rain floods a clap of thunder for their fears a flood for their fields a gust of wind to blow them away until all they have left is those shattered hopes for a good year… good year for storms… how many die?
… no one dies… i’ll not kill…
proud cloud is always a constant… unrelenting… unsympathetic… ready to kill… ready to flood…destroy, maim, kill, hunt them down with your rains pounding upon their heads filled with fervent hopes turned to desperate wishes for relief from proud cloud stays forever… destroy their unsympathetic voices with your anger… shout louder at them until they listen… don’t let them win…
… i won’t let them win… never win… i’ll win, i’ll show them there’s more to me than pretty summer nights…than sparkling lights reflected from my depths… gaze upon my fatal beauty… i’ll show you…
you will? weaknesses… proud cloud is blamed for deaths, proud cloud won’t stay forever… fickle thing…
…i’ll never die…
…you won’t live forever… light will come… cold will come… night will come… pain-filled losses and mourners crying for their dead… you won’t live, you’ll won’t keep fighting…
…
they’ll be others… stronger… better… no false pride, no soiled dignity to crush… no untrue strengths to wade through on the search for a falsified truth… no pain…
… my pain…
… your pain… you deserve it… proud cloud’s too proud to cry… are you crying?
…
you will… you will…murderer of innocents, destroyer of purity, prophet to lies… kill those you love with your rage… kill those close to you with your hatred… you suffer so shall they…
…no… that’s not true…
look at your truth… gaze into that mirror into your soul, your foul wicked soul, hell-bent on vengeance, knee-bent to pride…
i’m not like that…
saw your reflection? i saw it… so little hope for life in that twisted image upon the wall protecting yourself comes crumbling down and i saw you there… destroyer…
…i’m not…
neither am i, but there will be more after me and after you disgrace the name with your death and your pride… no hope left… so little hope left in this world at all…what are your hopes?
i have no hope… no hope for anyone… the world is a just a group of oppressed people sitting around in their privates hells waiting for someone to lift them from the dirt and the dust before they crumble to bones…
…
what are your hopes?
a pessimist in our midst… who will be that fool trying to help a world of people too weary and scarred by life to help themselves… will it be you? you’ll be the flood that will scar them and hurt them and kill them and drown them until there is nothing left and you are alone…
i won’t…
you will… i did… once i had strength… now i have less than those fatigued warriors standing up against the forces of life… they say only the strong will survive, but it is always the weak that will kill you…
who are you?
no one… i used to have a name, just like i had a face and mind filled with life and happiness… no more… nothing is the same, proud cloud to ride on free in the air… no more spring rain…no more happiness for me… nothing… not one bloody thing…
i’ll not be like you…
ha! little man wants to be big… you can’t stop this…your pride will have you my dear, dear friend, as anger had the black-caped man and power had me… it was all for nothing…
who are you?
…
who? tell me…
…proud, proud cloud, put your head on my shoulder and cry for awhile… i am you and you are me and we are one and the same… somehow the same…surprisingly different yet somehow the same.
i don’t want to be like you… i’ll have happiness…
…in solitude with no one to love you and your stupid, stupid hurt… you’ll die sooner or later alone and lonely, cold and hurt, no loving fire to help you… they all leave sooner or later… we all do…
who are you?
…
…
…proud cloud ready to pour his wrath upon the world…
…
…my proud, proud cloud…vengeance is best served cold…

     Cait Sith hummed quietly to himself as he stuffed a wad of cotton back into his mog’s stomach. “Hold on there, buddy,” he muttered, breaking the song. “I’ll get ya fixed in no time. You’ll be stitched up and rearing to go!”
     Although he tried not to show it, he was actually devastated by the injuries his mog had received. Never in his existence – seeming as he didn’t particularly have a life – had he felt so helpless to do anything. He had never felt so open, so torn; he had never felt this small on top of his mog. Now, he was the little insect easily squashed beneath the heel of a boot. He hated this feeling.
     “Don’t take it out on me,” Reeve declared, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I’m not the one who got you here!”
     Reno frowned, his face darkening. “What the hell are you talking about?!” he demanded. “You signed us that job!”
     Reno’s frown became mirrored on Reeve’s face. “What are you talking about? I haven’t done any business with you since before I got the company.”
     The Turks’ frown disappeared, a sudden realization coming over him. He punched the wall angrily. “That asshole! I’m gonna kill him.”
     “Who?”
     “Nygel Huiji – Doctor Nygel Huiji.”
     Reeve raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Nygel Huiji? Are you sure?”
     Reno frowned again. “I think I’d remember the name of a geek who just conned me. Damn, what the hell’s Elena gonna think?”
     The ex-Shinra President sat down on the cot with a sigh, mulling over his thoughts. “What was the job?”
     The cot squeaked in protest as Reno sat down next to Reeve. “We were supposed to swipe some Black Materia from his labs and give it to you.”
     “Really?” A smile began forming on Reeve’s features as a new thought sprung to his mind. “Maybe she doesn’t have to know that I didn’t sign you that job.”
     “What’re you talking about? Just tell me and stop dancing around the subject.”
     “Bear with me for a second, Reno. Black Materia is decidedly bad, correct?” Reno nodded. “We wouldn’t want that falling into the wrong hands such as those of Aeris or Scarlet, also correct. So just stick to the original plan. Find the Black Materia and bring it back to me. I know someone we can trust who won’t loose it.”
     Reno leaned back against the wall, stretching his feet out in front of him. His head was starting to pound again, a slow rivulet of blood running from a cut on his brow. He paid it no heed. “That’s assuming we ever get outta here, right? The odds of that happening ain’t looking in our favor.”
     Reeve shrugged. “Never stopped a Turk before.”
     Cait Sith turned back to them, an object in hand. He had stuffed it in his mog at the fight and had forgotten about it until now. A smile was lighting up his face almost as wide as Cosmo Canyon. He held it out for them to see.
     “Won’t stop one now,” he declared, doing a little dance of victory.
     Reeve and Reno exchanged surprise glances. “What the hell?” Reeve asked, bewilderment in his eyes. “Where’d you get that?”
     And then Reno grinned, shaking his head slowly. “Why you little thief…”

     Tifa watched the sunrise on the horizon, a beautiful portrait of color and light so exquisite and seemingly pure that it was breath-taking. The sun peeked over the edge of the grassy plain, kissing her cheeks with its warmth, its light sparkling in the golden blades of grass. It was a symbol of hope, a new day in which she could dream of finding her love. It was a symbol of new life.
     She felt no elation.
     For while the sun shined warmly upon her, its red light bloodied the sky, a vile picture of the fields turning crimson. And for while the warm sun beat down upon her face, she felt nothing but the cold chill of being alone. Cloud was gone; she might be chasing her own tail, following ghosts on her false hopes that he was near. He might be dead. Or worse.
     Mideel. She remembered that event though it had transpired months ago. What had he done to deserve this harsh treatment by the fates? He was constantly lost, not in the physical sense of the word. His mind was scarred beyond repair. He could never know his true self. She could never know him either. Was he really Cloud Strife or just some figment of her imagination born in some test tube in Hojo’s lab? Who was he?
     She wished she could help him, but the true Cloud – if there had ever been one – had died that day in Nibelheim. She couldn’t help him. Not when he was fighting his own mind. She couldn’t hide him or fight him or even run away. She was drawn to him like a moth to flame, and she was scared that one day he would burn her so badly that she would just shrivel up and die. She was so scared, but he needed her, and she loved him.
     God, how she loved him.
     There was nothing that could stand between them, even if Cloud wasn’t Cloud. But if Cloud wasn’t Cloud, then whom did she love? That thought had been forced into her mind by the small portion of her that was a cold realist over and over again. Without him here, she found it invading her thoughts more and more frequently, and it scared her. What if her love was wasted on a mere puppet? What was she supposed to do?
     There wasn’t anything she could do. She would look for him and search for him until she wore herself down to a mere silhouette of a woman. Her heart would ache until she found him, but she absentmindedly wondered which would hurt more. The search or her findings. What if she found him like she had at Mideel? Twisted and shattered like a glass doll which had received the brunt of a mean child’s anger. What if he was like that again, but there were no more pieces left to glue together with her love? He was just a broken man with less happiness than the average bum.
     Or what if she never found him at all? Tears stung at her eyes. What if he ran off to be with Aeris and left her alone except for her dying memories? He wouldn’t do that. He loved her, not Aeris. But what if he didn’t? He had never said anything above love and had only taken her on a date once. He had to love her. He had to.
     But he didn’t have to and that was the point. She would run after him around the world searching for him and never finding him because he wanted to be lost. No, he couldn’t want that. Not after Mideel. Never again would he want to be that broken and exposed. But it was always easier to be lost and forget all the worries of the world than to always be found and face those worries and fears and aggression.
     And what if she did find him, and he didn’t love her at all? Then what? That would be the ultimate slap in the face. Would she just go home crying to… to who? Nobody. Without Cloud she had nobody. Barret and Marlene and Cid and Vincent and all the others didn’t matter. They weren’t her family. They were only friends. Her family was dead. And Cloud was the closest person she had. If he didn’t want her…
     She collapsed into the sea of grass, her shaking knees refusing to hold up her weight any longer. The tears streamed down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands. She would find him, and they would be together, and he would love her. There was no other choice.
     She didn’t want to be alone.

     Cloud watched a small ray of light filter in an even smaller window perched near the top of the small room. The ray floated to the ground on a whisper of air, shining on through the darkness with a dim glow that could mean anything to anybody but was a small beam of hope amidst the overpowering black. A hope that that black would not become his life, that it would not rule him. A small hope that left with the sun.
     He reached out to touch the light with a shaking hand, trembling not out of fear but out of the hope of a desperate man. The light glowed softly on his hand, a warmth that seemed to be trying to comfort him. He couldn’t be comforted by that warmth. Not anymore. He was lost. He could never find himself now.
     And no one would search for him.
     And Tifa… how could she ever want to see him again? After all the pain and hurt he caused? After all the awkward, silent moments they shared? She couldn’t love him; she must hate him for all the hell through which he’d put her. He hated himself for that. He didn’t know which he felt more strongly, the hate for everything he done or his hate for everything he hadn’t.
     The air swirled, the ray of light flickered. The light of truth that showed him the pain. Why would she look for him? He was a cursed, wretched being, shunned by his own mind. He wasn’t even sure who he was. He could be a perfectly sane person destined to be hurt over and over again in his life because of some deed he had done. Or he could be just a wisp of memory that faded as fast as it appeared, slipping through the grasping fingers that clung to it.
     And whose fingers were they? Were they his or hers? Was he just trying to fool himself? Maybe he was that wisp of memory, and he wanted so bad to be with Tifa that he had found one fond memory from her mind and become it. Living the past wasn’t a life at all. But it was with her, and something with her was better than everything without her.
     Or had she made him into someone he wasn’t? Did she want him to be the Cloud Strife from her memories because she had loved that Cloud? Living a lie wasn’t any better than living as a figment of the past. But it was with her. Even it wasn’t him with her, he would play the part to be with her. He would do anything to be with her. He loved her even if she didn’t love him, even if she loved her memories or her past and not him. It didn’t matter. This light was his love, the small flicker of hope that he would find some sort of happiness in this life, regardless of whether or not it was based on the truth. The truth often hurt; he could be immune to that hurt. When your life was a lie, you had to be. You had to be.
     But what if she never came? What if she bore no love for the past or for the future? What if she did hate all the strife he had caused? What if she hated him and hated Mideel and hated the truth? The hot tears stung his eyes, and he closed them in an attempt to stop himself from crying. He couldn’t bear that. He couldn’t live with that. To be hated by himself was one thing, bu