Butterfly Effect: Chapter 27
May. 16th, 2007 08:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bard_linnAuthors: Bard Linn and Kiraya
Genre: General/Drama
Pairings: That'd be telling!
Rating (Overall): PG-13
Summary: It felt like he was dying.
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all associated characters and symbols are the exclusive property of Square Enix and its associates. We’re just borrowing them for a while.
Chapter 27
Cloud shuddered and buried himself further under his covers, trying to ignore the harsh feel of the material against his skin. It was hard to believe that a few weeks ago he had thought these to be some of the nicest sheets he had ever had.
Not that he was thinking very much at the moment — just on the contrary, actually. He was so far out of it he probably wouldn’t have been able to put together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it.
The young man tried desperately to ignore his chills, the heavy feeling of something invisible pressing upon his chest and his hot eyelids. He couldn’t remember being this sick before, though one time he had been very, very close.
It felt like he was dying.
A cool hand gently touched his brow, the contact feeling almost like ice on a hot stove. The touch both hurt and comforted, and Could didn’t know if he should lean into it or flinch away.
“Cloud?”
Someone, saying his name. It had to be… “Vincent?” he murmured.
The hand withdrew. “Go back to sleep, Cloud.”
The part of Cloud’s brain that wasn’t delirious with fever thought this sounded like a good idea. “‘Kay.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Zack stepped away from Cloud’s bed and looked at the blond with worry. At least the kid had managed to get to bed before his treatments had really kicked in; a minor blessing, considering some had started to succumb on their way back from the labs. The problem was Cloud seemed to be feeling the treatments’ adverse effects more than most of the new SOLDIERs, though he wasn’t showing any signs of mutation yet, thank Gaea.
The SOLDIER First dearly hoped Cloud wouldn’t be one of those who didn’t make it. He didn’t think he could bear to lose his apprentice.
“Who’s Vincent?”
Zack looked over at Scott, who’d asked the question. He was grateful that Cloud had been placed with these two, and for more than just having other friends for the blond. Scott and Paul had their own reasons to diligently watch Cloud’s progress; these two would be the first ones to notice if something went wrong. Keeping an eye on new SOLDIERs was one of the biggest reasons ShinRa grouped new Thirds with older ones, but Zack knew Scott and Paul would go beyond mere duty to take care of their friend.
Of course, the awkward questions thing was a bit of a downside.
“A friend of his back home, I think,” Zack replied smoothly, his eyes returning to Cloud’s shivering form. “Has there been any change?”
Scott looked grim. “We’re pretty sure his fever went up again this morning.”
Zack closed his eyes and offered a prayer to whatever god was listening. Four days after treatment he should be getting better, not worse. Don’t do this to me, Cloud… Sighing, he checked his watch. He was already late for duty, and though Sephiroth would be somewhat forgiving in this case — mentors were expected to check on their SOLDIERs frequently in this time period — he wouldn’t be happy if Zack didn’t come in soon. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.”
Scott nodded. “Or if not me, Paul. They’ve got our duty schedules set up so there’s always at least one of us around to keep an eye on the newbies.”
Zack nodded, quashing the little pang of guilt he felt at ignoring the fourth member of the squad. Roberts really wasn’t someone he was very concerned about, particularly since he seemed to be adjusting right on schedule.
Sephiroth didn’t say a word as he came into the office and settled at his desk. Zack had had difficulty focusing since the day Cloud had gotten his treatments, but he stubbornly slogged through his paperwork nonetheless. It was frustrating to be cooped up in the office instead of by his friend’s side, but there was very little he could do to help Cloud at this point, and the paperwork was hardly going to do itself.
Zack snorted a little at that. If he could’ve made that happen, he’d’ve easily become the richest man in the world off selling the secret, especially considering how much ShinRa ran on the stuff. (The company might just have it in for him after that for taking away employees’ busywork and giving them more time to plot office coups and other such subversive things, though.)
Unfortunately, the tedious work didn’t help him dismiss the image of Cloud’s suffering, but Zack did manage to finish — and even got a head start on the next day’s work — by half an hour before it was time for him to leave. Of course, he had worked right though lunch, but he wasn’t really very hungry at the moment anyway. Locking up his desk, he stood to leave, startled to hear similar motion from behind him. “Seph?”
“I will accompany you to see Strife.”
A chill ran down Zack’s spine. It wasn’t that Sephiroth didn’t have a right to see Cloud — he was teaching him too, after all — but the General hadn’t so far. Sephiroth knew the signs of mutation and a bad transition better than anyone else, between his experience in Wutai and his stints in the labs. If something was wrong with Cloud, he would know it, but…
The pair walked swiftly through the halls, Zack’s usual smile gone as he matched Sephiroth stride for stride. In a matter of moments they were at Cloud’s room, Paul answering Zack’s knock. The SOLDIER Third’s eyes widened when he saw Zack’s companion, but he said nothing, saluting as he stepped out of the way so the two SOLDIER Firsts could enter.
There was a palpable tension in the air the moment they did, but it didn’t feel like the usual unease that lurked in the corners when Sephiroth entered a room. Hoping against hope, Zack glanced at Roberts, who appeared fine, before turning his attention to Cloud. Scott stood next to the bed, looking anxious… and there was another figure there, carrying a bag no SOLDIER liked to see. The uniform she wore made Zack’s heart sink, his worst fears confirmed.
A specialist.
No, no, no, Cloud, don’t you dare go crazy on me! Specialists existed to deal with SOLDIERs who had gone out of control. Why else would one be here, unless—
“Well, he’s fine,” the woman declared, scooping up her instruments and placing them back in her bag. “Better than fine, actually.”
Zack looked at the tormented figure in disbelief, then back at the specialist. “What do you mean, fine?”
“I mean exactly what I said.” The specialist met his incredulous stare with calm composure, no little part of her confidence probably coming from the fact she had materials at her disposal that could down a SOLDIER in a matter of seconds. “He’s actually adapting at a higher level than most, which is why he’s taking so long to recover. I’ll be back to check on him, but he should be on the mend in a day or so. I suspect another five before he’s ready to start reconditioning training, however.”
Zack mulled over her words. Cloud’s gonna be a good three days behind the other newbies in that case, but I bet he’ll outstrip ‘em soon enough. In fact, he’d likely consider it a perfectly good excuse to spend more time training instead of just hanging out.
“What I still want to know is why you’re here,” Paul said to the young woman, still watching her warily. “We didn’t send for you.”
“We’ve been hearing about someone with an unusual reaction to the initial treatments. Didn’t take long to track it down,” the specialist replied. “Make sure he gets plenty of fluids; other than that, there really isn’t much you can do for him. Keep an eye on him, of course and call us if things go bad.” She shouldered her bag and left, only giving the briefest of nods and a murmured “sir” to acknowledge Sephiroth.
“Between us, I hope we never see her again,” Paul muttered. “Anyway, is there something we can help you with, sir?”
Sephiroth shook his head. “No. I merely came to evaluate Strife’s progress; since everything seems to be proceeding acceptably, my input is no longer necessary. If you would excuse me—”
Zack sighed as Sephiroth disappeared though the door. Some things never changed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cloud woke up when someone shoved a thermometer in his mouth.
As this was not necessarily the most enjoyable way to awaken, he quickly raised his hand to remove the offending object.
“Hey.” A hand caught his. “Keep that in. I need to check your temperature.”
The blond blinked and lowered his hand. Much to his surprise, the voice came from a girl around his age, calmly taking his pulse. She had dark reddish hair, cut short for convenience, and greenish-brown eyes — pretty, he supposed, but not as pretty as Aeris.
The girl pulled out the thermometer from Cloud’s mouth and checked it. “Just slightly above normal, good. You’ll be up and about by tomorrow.”
“Who are you?” Cloud finally asked, confused as to exactly why there was a girl in his room. He briefly prayed Zack didn’t find out about it; he’d never hear the end of it.
“Sorry. I’m Matheson — Morgan Matheson.” She tapped the insignia on her uniform. “Specialist. I’ve been checking up on you.”
“Oh.” Cloud blinked. Where do I know that— oh! The scientist Red told me about! The SOLDIER briefly wondered if they were related; unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly ask if she knew a scientist he had no reason to have encountered… but it’d be pretty easy to discover that information himself. I need a computer, Cloud thought, and then chuckled to himself. Most people wouldn’t go straight to hacking to find out something so insignificant. Vincent must be rubbing off on me. In any case, it was good to be thinking clearly again, at least. I must finally be getting better.
“In any case, you’ll need to eat something soon. I expect you’re pretty hungry, considering we’ve barely gotten you to eat anything in the last week.” Morgan stood and, with a short nod, left, leaving Cloud to consider her words. Had he really been out of it for a whole week?
“You want something from the mess?”
“Scott?” Cloud asked in surprise, only noticing the other SOLDIER’s presence now. A quick glance around confirmed that they were alone.
The older man smiled at his friend. “Feeling better?”
Cloud nodded slowly. “What are you doing here?”
“What, forgot already? I live here,” Scott teased. “Besides, we can’t leave you newbies alone until you recover.”
“Ah.” Cloud realized what that meant — Scott and Paul must’ve had their duty schedules set up so they could keep an eye on him and Matt.
…Where was Matt, anyway?
Before Cloud could ask about his partner’s disappearance, his stomach growled. He flushed as Scott laughed. “Well, I am hungry…”
“So I hear. I’ll be back in a few minutes with something to eat.” He vanished out the door.
Cloud just lay still for a few minutes, feeling strangely tired again already. His cheeks reddened as he realised that he wore nothing under the blankets, though he reminded himself it wasn’t such a huge deal if one of his roommates had undressed him; it was nothing they hadn’t seen before. It was still embarrassing, though, and it made Cloud wish he wasn’t so much of a country bumpkin at heart. Zack had never been so modest.
He sat up slowly, swung his legs over the side of his bed, and stood — or tried to, his muscles not being particularly cooperative. Falling back onto his bed, he stared at his feet in a mixture of surprise and annoyance. I thought we were supposed to get stronger after this, not weaker! Stubbornly, he pushed himself back to his feet.
“Hey, there — hold on!” Zack came sprinting through the doorway and snagged Cloud by the waist, holding him up straight. “Sit down, take it easy. You’re in no condition to get up just yet; you’ve been stuck in bed for almost a week.”
The blond grumbled, his face red with embarrassment; sympathetic, Zack pulled a large T-shirt and a pair of loose pants out of his closet. “Here. These were big on you before, so they should probably still fit.”
Cloud accepted them somewhat dubiously — the other SOLDIER was being silly; it wasn’t like he’d gained a lot of muscle over the last week, after all — but allowed Zack to help him into the clothes. “How in the world are SOLDIERs supposed to be the best fighting force in the world if they’re like this?” he complained, flopping back on the bed.
“Just wait,” Zack told him, smiling. “A week or two of rehab and you’ll be back up to your old level. After that we’ll start training you to make the most of your enhancements.” He shrugged. “The weakness after is normal, really. Part of the reason we stagger treatment appointments. The first group are already back up and doing enhancement training. Don’t worry, you’ll be back in the gym soon enough.” The dark-haired man plopped down next to Cloud. “So, you want something to eat?”
“Scott already went to get me something, thanks.”
Zack nodded. “I know. He called when he left to tell me you were awake. But what I meant was you want something decent to eat?”
Cloud waved him off. “The mess hall food isn’t that bad.”
Zack chuckled. “Just wait till you try it again. I think you’re in for a surprise.” He ruffled his friend’s hair. “It’s good to see you lucid for once.”
Cloud knew him well enough to be able to read the relief in his indigo eyes. “Was I really that bad?”
“No signs of imminent mutation, according to the specialist, but you were giving us quite a scare for a while,” Zack admitted. He was saved from having to elaborate by the reappearance of his friend’s roommate. “Ahh, food’s here!”
Scott handed over a tray with some sort of poultry and assorted green vegetables. Suddenly ravenous, Cloud took a bite, knowing from past experience that this was actually one of the more edible meals served in the mess—
And he was utterly disappointed. Frowning, he took another bite. Underneath the spices, the food tasted almost… artificial. What in the world was going on?
“Figured that would happen.” Zack looked amused.
“And that’s why Paul and I eat out so much,” Scott put in. “All your senses are enhanced as a SOLDIER, even taste and smell. You don’t get fooled by the stuff they throw on the food anymore.” Cloud grimaced at that; he’d probably have to get used to the peculiar, pervasive stink of the city all over again. “Better hope you make it to First. You’ll get your own kitchenette, and you’ll be able to cook some edible stuff… assuming you can cook, of course.” Scott tried not to smile as he looked at Zack.
The SOLDIER First looked affronted. “I can cook, I’ll have you know. I cook quite a bit.”
“Of course, sir,” Scott agreed, not quite smiling. “It’s just, well, they say you have… somewhat unusual tastes in some things. And I’ve heard about this one incident with a frying pan and a—”
Zack growled. “Shut it, SOLDIER.”
“Yessir,” Scott replied easily, turning back to Cloud. “Anyway, you either have to learn to put up with the stuff in the mess, or put a decent chunk of your paycheck towards eating out.”
“In any case,” Zack continued, “you should finish that, Cloud. Your system should be able to handle it just fine, despite you not having eaten in a while — SOLDIERs rarely have to worry about queasiness. After that, get some more sleep. I’ll stop by tomorrow so we can start on basic rehab. I’m sure you want to be back up on your feet as soon as possible.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
This is utter foolishness, Vincent told himself, lurking in the very staircase he and Cloud had used to help Red XIII escape.
The truth was that the former Turk had become somewhat dissatisfied with his role in their attempt to implicate Hojo. While his research formed the backbone of their case, it was more than a little frustrating to be cooped up in Sephiroth’s quarters most of the time. Having gotten into the lower levels of the lab once, Vincent couldn’t help wondering if he should just attempt to take Hojo out himself… but an annoyingly persistent little voice reminded him he had promised to let Cloud help take the scientist down, and he really shouldn’t take unnecessary risks that more than likely would result in his death. His Turk sensibility was rightly taking precedence over that distressing irrationality he’d displayed more than once in his life, he noted dispassionately, but… it still bothered him. He sighed. Cloud’s influence, I suppose…
He placed his claw lightly against the hidden door to the lower level of the lab. It would be so easy to open it and storm inside, wrecking and killing everything in his way until he found Hojo, but he would never make it out alive.
::Unusually perceptive. Perhaps there is hope for you after all. :: Chaos sounded unbelievably smug.
Meaning…?
::Only that wishing for one’s death often results in it. Many have survived through trying circumstances by their sheer will to live. ::
Vincent frowned, looking at the door again. Unfortunately, his recent research indicated that Hojo knew several things vital to the running of the company, and was apparently the only one in his department who knew them. As long as that was so, it was unlikely any case they put forward against him would succeed.
Assassination might be the only option.
The former Turk didn’t have to close his eyes to picture his student’s face if he ever told Cloud that. The blond would be none too pleased with Vincent’s current thoughts and would undoubtedly make his displeasure known… a side affect of his association with Sinclair. Of course, Cloud would simply point out that Vincent would have to work harder to obtain the information that supposedly only Hojo knew, such as the SOLDIER enhancement formula, so the board had no viable objections when they presented their case.
The black-haired man waited in long-suffering resignation for Chaos’s inevitable commentary on that, expecting some quip about “and he’d be correct as well, you overdramatic human.”
::Why should I tell you what you already know?:: the demon retorted.
If I didn’t know better, I’d expect that you two had joined forces solely to irritate me.
The only response Vincent received to that was amusement, and he shook his head but let it go. Turning away from the wall, he began his trek back down the stairs, freezing as another door abruptly opened. Cursing the lack of cover in the narrow staircase, Vincent did his best to hide in the limited shadows of the wall, studying the man who had stepped out onto the landing below. Someone extremely familiar…
It can’t be.
But it was — the way he moved, the weapon at his waist, even the haircut…
Veld? What was his former partner doing here?
Vincent’s mind reeled. He was so used to thinking of all that he’d cared about in his old life as long gone — his family, Lucrecia, the Turks he’d served with — that the very idea that his former partner still lived seemed completely ludicrous. And yet here he was, not three levels below him, looking as fit as ever except for a touch of grey. I wonder if he’s made Turk Leader… He’s certainly been around long enough for it.
Impulsively, he followed Veld at a safe distance. His former partner was exiting the building via the emergency staircase, which meant something was up; even more interesting, he was going alone. It was rare for a Turk to operate solo, particularly on missions outside the company compounds, and it made Vincent suspicious.
Trailing him became a little easier once they were below the Plate, though Vincent still didn’t follow too closely. He was a little disappointed, actually, that Veld hadn’t noticed him yet. His former partner was completely focused on whatever he was doing, not paying as much attention as he should to his surroundings. Veld had always had a bit of a blind spot that way… though he’d never been as bad as Cloud was.
Vincent followed his partner into a rundown old warehouse, though he crept through a broken upper story window rather than quietly slipping in through a side door as Veld had. Inside an assortment of nasty, visibly armed characters lounged around on several crates, drinking and conversing in low voices; it looked like they were from one of the meaner gangs in the sector. Vincent frowned thoughtfully. What was Veld up to? The Turks didn’t usually stoop to buying information from gang members because of their unpredictable and greedy nature, and… no, he was moving too stealthily for this to be a rendezvous of that sort—
Just as his one-time partner did, Vincent tensed when the floorboard creaked, his good hand automatically moving to his gun. Veld was in the middle of a space between two large stacks of crates, and the shadows weren’t deep enough to hide in; even if he could make it to cover—
The man who appeared to be the head of the gang suddenly held up his hand. “Did you hear that?”
His companions quieted immediately, and their leader turned towards the crates Veld had darted behind. “Figured ShinRa’d have their dogs after us eventually,” he announced, a hint of malicious glee in his voice, “but didn’t expect just one of ‘em.” He stepped slowly towards Veld’s hiding place, and the Turk drew his and slipped the safety. “Scientist sent his little bitch down here all alone to get his precious toys back, huh?” The gang leader was sneering now. “Just you against the six of us ain’t gonna do shit. If you know what’s good for ya, you’ll get the fuck outta here. Unless you want to ‘play,’ of course…” He chuckled.
“You really gonna fight ‘im, boss?” one of the others asked almost nervously. “I mean…”
“Nothin’ to it when we’ve got this baby to even the score,” the leader assured him, hefting an object Vincent was sadly quite familiar with — a tranquilizer gun. That was when the pieces fell into place — Hojo had probably shipped some important project over to Midgar from another lab, but since its contents were borderline illegal he’d labeled it as medical supplies, something he’d done even during the time Vincent had been guarding him. Medicine was second only to weapons in value under the Plate; the shipment must’ve been intercepted. Veld had come down to retrieve the materials, but it appeared the gang that had apprehended them was intelligent enough to figure out they had gotten their hands on something special. Vincent muttered a curse. He had a sinking feeling he knew what at least some of it was, considering what he had seen in Hojo’s files. If they’d loaded up the tranquilizer gun with the stuff…
Vincent reached for his gun just as his former partner aimed past the edge of the crate and fired, hitting the leader right in the temple before ducking back under cover. The former Turk watched over the firefight from above; luckily, most of the gang members had low-end weapons and weren’t very good marksmen. He took a few shots of his own, covering Veld as the Turk reloaded, and his former partner glanced briefly towards his hiding place but said nothing, focusing on his opponents.
“Y’ain’t gettin’ away with this, ya bastard!” one of the few remaining thugs shouted. He pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it towards Veld’s hiding spot.
Veld might be much older now, but he still moved nearly as quickly as Vincent remembered. He flung himself away as far as he could, managing to get just outside the grenade’s blast range. Unfortunately, this left him in plain sight of the final two gang members, one of whom had picked up the fallen tranquilizer gun.
And Veld wasn’t moving.
Oh no you don’t. Vincent’s gun sang twice more, and both his targets fell, dead. The ex-Turk paused, wondering if he should retrieve his former partner, but a quick glance around the warehouse made the decision for him: the grenade had started a fire. It would only be a few minutes before the whole place went up in flames. Returning his gun to his holster, he jumped down, landing beside Veld’s still form. Vincent lifted his former partner into his arms — once upon a time he’d had to struggle to carry him, but Hojo’s meddling had made it painfully easy — and carried him away from the quickly spreading fire.
At least Hojo wouldn’t be getting that shipment back, he noted, allowing himself some small satisfaction at that. Hopefully the stuff wouldn’t spread by air, but if it was what he suspected, it wouldn’t be an issue anyway.
The man in his arms stirred. “Now I know I’m hallucinating.” He chuckled. “Hello, Vin. Nice to see you again, even if I am dead. What’s with the outfit?”
Vincent looked down at Veld sharply. “You aren’t dead. And why would you be hallucinating?”
Veld smiled crookedly and held up his left hand, revealing a puncture wound that already looked unhealthy. Vincent felt his stomach clench. A dart wound… when had he been hit? “You always told me to take care to better protect my hands. Should’ve listened to you, I guess.” He sighed, glancing back at the fire. “Tseng coming out?”
“Tseng?”
“My second. My… partner, sort of.” He shrugged a little. “I thought he was following me.”
Vincent shook his head. “No. That was me.”
Veld stared at him. “You really are alive, aren’t you? I thought… but… How? You died at Nibelheim!”
“Hojo,” Vincent replied shortly, watching as the color drained further from his friend’s face.
Veld let out an explosive breath, eyes dark with anger. “Shit,” he muttered, looking away. “And all these years, I’ve… shit. I should’ve killed the bastard, not…”
Vincent shook his head, settling down with his former partner in a secluded alley. “You didn’t know,” he said roughly, trying to exam Veld’s hand and cursing the uncertain light under the Plate.
“But I should’ve,” the other man retorted. “Here.” He fished around in his pocket with his good hand, passing Vincent a materia. The former Turk took it and activated it, looking at the skin very carefully. It was difficult to tell under its yellowish light, but he thought the flesh was taking on an unnatural green tint rather rapidly.
“That doesn’t look good,” Veld observed dispassionately, trying unsuccessfully to flex his fingers. “And I’m losing motion.” He closed his eyes with a sigh; he knew the signs of imminent mutation as well as any other high-ranking ShinRa employee. “Looks like this is the end of the line for me.” He turned towards Vincent. “Look, I want you to take my materia. And my— well, your gun. I held on to it after you… well, saying ‘died’ seems pretty stupid now.” He grinned, but it was a twisted thing full of pain. “It’s better than anything else they’ve tried to give me, anyway.”
Vincent took the gun, sliding his fingers over it. It would be more difficult to use now with the claw, but it was of far higher quality than the one he was currently using, despite its age. It had been created by the previous head of Weapons Development, and was widely regarded as the finest handgun design in the world. “Thank you, Vel.”
Veld smiled crookedly at the nickname; it had been a long, long time since he’d heard it. “Good luck taking down Hojo, Vin… and I’m sorry. But you better go. Won’t be long until someone comes to deal with that fire. Don’t worry ‘bout me; I’ll be all right.”
Veld was still a bad liar, Vincent noted, and they both knew it. There was no cure for this particular cocktail Hojo had created; when ShinRa employees came to take care of the fire, they’d find his old partner and take him back to the lab. Hojo would be pleased to have a new specimen; Veld would only suffer long and painfully until there was nothing left of himself.
Their eyes met, and for a long moment they simply looked steadily at one another; finally, Vincent nodded, his decision made.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cloud towel-dried his hair, grinning at his reflection in the mirror. He probably should’ve been over it by now, but it still sent a startled thrill through him to see the distinctive glowing eyes of a SOLDIER looking back at him from his reflection. They try to tell you what it’s like, but nothing they say even comes close…
It had been three weeks since Cloud had finally been allowed out of bed. He’d been pretty busy since then, finding out just how out of the loop he’d gotten. It was more than a little frustrating to be constantly falling over his own feet. He had actually gained another two inches in height, putting him at 5’5’’, which pleased him to no end; on the other hand, since he had slept through it, he had no idea how to deal with the change. He had finally learned how most of the rest of his peers felt when they were going through puberty; his own growth had been gradual enough that it hadn’t been much of an issue.
Besides getting his coordination back, Cloud had also had to learn to handle his enhanced senses, strength, and speed. It had been more than a bit of a trial, but he thought he was finally starting to get used to it. He knew now why neither Zack nor anyone else had tried to better explain the changes to him; words couldn’t really describe the sudden new intensity of colors, sounds, and smells, the way the whole world seemed to move just a little slower, the way it was so easy to forget your own strength until whatever you were holding had snapped, shattered, burst, or ripped without you even noticing.
The benefits definitely outweighed the occasional frustration, though. A little over two hours ago, Zack had dragged Cloud outside Midgar for a run on his bike — or at least, the company-owned bike that was generally left for his use because he took care of it like it was his own child. He’d long had a particular fondness for the motorcycles assigned for SOLDIER use in Midgar. Cloud hadn’t been too keen on the idea, well aware that Zack’s driving was erratic at best; his mentor had taken him out for a ride before, and Cloud had never been so violently motion-sick in his life. In the end, however, Zack’s stubbornness had prevailed, as usual — much to Cloud’s disgruntlement — which had left the blond clinging to his friend’s back as they had zoomed across the dusty plains surrounding the city.
I don’t know how I could have ever hated it before. Maybe it was just his increased reaction time, but Cloud finally understood now why Zack had always taken so long to swerve away from rocks and the like. It didn’t feel so incredibly dangerous anymore; all those close calls that had terrified him before were thrilling now. Zack had even promised to let Cloud drive next time, and he was eagerly looking forward to the experience.
Now, though, he was almost late for his study session with Vincent. Grabbing his clean uniform, Cloud quickly dressed, briefly running a brush through his hair before giving up and allowing it to take on its bizarre natural style. After all the dust that had gotten kicked up by Zack’s motorcycle, the shower had been absolutely necessary.
The walk to Sephiroth’s quarters was uneventful, except for a few waves from other SOLDIERs. Cloud had to smile at that. By now it was normal for him to be dropping in at Sephiroth’s quarters during the day; if he wanted to track Zack down, Sephiroth’s quarters were the second place he checked, right after the General’s office.
“Hello, Vincent,” the blond said as the door shut behind him. “Anyone else around?”
Vincent shook his head. “Sit.”
Mildly surprised by Vincent’s curt response — it had been a long time since the former Turk had been so abrupt with him — Cloud took a seat next to his mentor. Vincent immediately began quizzing his student on the material they had covered last time, mostly on the art of sniping and locating snipers. Cloud responded promptly, having studied extensively before coming, but only had half of his mind on the information. The rest of him was closely studying Vincent.
The gunman looked… off, somehow. Cloud was having a hard time trying to pin down a reason, though. He could count the number of times he had seen Vincent upset on one hand (and, he had to admit, he’d been the cause of most of them), but Cloud just knew that something was bothering him. Vincent seemed… unsettled, in a way that kind of reminded him of how his mom would get every once in a while.
Maybe “unsettled” was the wrong word for it. Maybe it was more like… grief, perhaps?
Vincent changed the subject; now he was lecturing about gun types, their ranges and weaknesses. Cloud did his best to put the matter from his mind and focus on the information, scribbling down notes in a book he left in Sephiroth’s quarters for this very purpose. An hour passed quickly, and Vincent brought his lecture to a close. The blond snapped his book shut, capped his pen, and hesitated. Usually he’d rise now, bid his teacher goodbye, and leave. Today, though…
“What is it?” Vincent asked, raising an eyebrow. The younger man still hesitated, not quite sure how to ask his question without being insensitive; his teacher sighed. “Just ask, Cloud.”
He took a deep breath. “Did you know the former Turk Leader?”
Something around Vincent’s eyes tightened, wordlessly answering his pupil’s question. “Yes. He used to be my partner.”
“Oh.” Cloud flushed. He really needed to talk to Zack about how to ask questions like this. “Um, how… do you think he died?”
“You hear more than I do.” The ex-Turk leaned back in his seat. “What are they saying?”
He had to smile at that. With how rarely Vincent got out, it was no surprise Cloud had heard more. “Some people say he got shot in a mob hit. Some say he burned to death; Some think he didn’t burn, but smoke inhalation killed him. Others think he got blown up.” He hesitated. “Some think committed suicide; there’s a rumor going around that ballistics matched the bullet they found in him to the same type of gun he used, but a lot of people think that’s just stupid. A couple of people claiming to be ‘in the know’ are saying the gunshot wound was wrong for suicide, and the gun was missing. But then again, if he was shot below the Plate, it would’ve been stolen anyway.”
“A grain of truth in all of them, but none quite right,” the sniper murmured cryptically.
His student stared. “You do know!” He stopped, thinking. “Wait a minute; that means you—”
“Cloud,” Vincent began, staring at his lap, where his slender-fingered human hand and the bulky golden claw rested side by side, “on occasion there are things a man must do that he may not particularly want to do, but the circumstances leave him with little choice. Society may condemn him for his actions, but without knowing the whole truth of the matter…” He shook his head. “It can be… difficult for them to understand, if not outright impossible—”
The SOLDIER blinked. “Vincent, are you… okay?” The former Turk’s mouth snapped shut, and his fingers tensed against his leg. Cloud wasn’t sure what to do. What could he say that could possibly—?
Oh, no, he thought, suddenly horrified. No way. There was no way he… The blond shook his head with a sigh. No, there definitely was a way… and he really wasn’t sure how to make his mentor feel better about it.
“Um,” he began after a few awkward moments of silence, “is there going to be a service or something? Maybe you could sneak in.”
Vincent shook his head. “Turk deaths are… not recognized,” he answered, still not looking at his student. “The body has likely already been properly disposed of.”
“Isn’t that a bit harsh?” Cloud asked softly. “What if he had family?”
“Turks’ familial connections are deeply buried. It’s not rare for them to be orphans, or from abusive homes. I’m sure you’ve noticed how the Turks are addressed only by their first names?” Cloud nodded. “It’s part of the basic protection. You know far more about the Turks than most, and have seen — Reno, was it? — more often than many in the military ever do. Even SOLDIERs rarely deal with them,” Vincent explained. “Despite the fact that the entire army seems to know of their existence — for a long time they’ve ostensibly operated as a group to scout out and recruit SOLDIERs, though since the war with Wutai young men have been eager enough to enlist that it’s rare for them to do so anymore — they are very much one of ShinRa’s most secretive outfits. You’ll rarely find a civilian outside Midgar who knows much besides the name, unless they have military ties or moved away from the city.”
“But there are always rumors,” Cloud added.
“Of course. That’s simply human nature.” Vincent glanced over at the clock, then back at his student. “Anything else?”
Taking the hint, Cloud stood. “No.” He sighed. “I’m just really glad I didn’t join the Turks. I don’t think Mom would take it well if anything happened to me. There wouldn’t really be any closure.”
“Not that anything is going to happen to you.” Vincent’s red eyes bored into him.
“Of course not!” Cloud hastily reassured him, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “Zack would drag me back kicking and screaming if it did! And I don’t even want to think about what type of training torture you’d come up with to make sure it didn’t happen again.”
Vincent nodded. “Just remember that when you leave on your mission tomorrow.”
“Mission?” Cloud’s eyes glowed brighter than normal. “I’d better go find Zack, then—” His official mentor would know what was going on. “We’ll talk later!” Flashing Vincent a quick grin, he zipped out the door.
Vincent breathed a sigh of relief, glad his attempt to distract Cloud had worked; the boy was usually far too good at recognizing it when he tried. He checked the gun he had stashed under his cloak, thankful Cloud hadn’t seen the weapon. While Vincent was reasonably sure his protégé had never seen Veld’s gun, he did know the blond would have noticed the difference between it and the weapon he’d carried for the past twelve years. His human hand settled on the cold metal. It was… comforting, having a piece of his old friend, his old life with him now.
Shaking his head, the former Turk settled himself in front of the computer and began typing, pulling up the copy he had downloaded of Hojo’s private logs. He hadn’t been extremely successful at finding anything to implicate the scientist — despite the number of plots he’d found him involved in — that were serious enough to get the man removed, but he had managed to get hold of this when Hojo had briefly accessed the main network. Going through the entries had been quite enlightening in all the wrong ways. Resuming where he’d left off, he frowned as continued reading. This could be a problem…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tap, tap, tap.
“Zack—”
“Yeah?” The SOLDIER looked at his superior through the open door. “Need something, Seph?”
Tap, taptap, tap—
“Will you please stop tapping your pen?”
The SOLDIER colored. “Er, sorry.” He put the pen down, and turned on his computer instead. For a few minutes, there was quiet.
Clang, clang, clang—
“Zack…”
“Oops,” Zack muttered, tucking his foot behind his chair to stop himself from kicking the metal desk. He clicked on the radio and tried to focus on the report in front of him.
Thud, thud—
“Zachary.”
“Gah!” Zack slammed his hand against the desk, stopping the drumming of his fingers. Sometimes he wished Sephiroth didn’t have such delicate hearing. “I’m sorry, Seph. I’m not trying to drive you nuts, promise.”
“Stop worrying,” the pale-haired man murmured without looking up from his work. “Strife will be fine.”
“I know, but…” He tried, and failed, to keep his concern from his voice. Cloud was out on his first mission as a SOLDIER without Zack accompanying him, and he was more than a little nervous that his apprentice would bite off more than he could handle. Not that the SOLDIER Seconds in charge of the mission weren’t some of the best when it came to managing new SOLDIERs, and the mission wasn’t even particularly dangerous. Zack just had too much of a protective streak when it came to Cloud for him not to fret when he knew the blond was going even into a mildly dangerous situation. “They’ve been out for over a week without sending word back. That’s unusual.”
“We should be receiving a report momentarily. Rogers sent in a message an hour ago stating they’ve been having a bit of a problem with reception. He indicated he’d been sending in his report shortly, as soon as he finished compiling it.”
Zack snapped around to face him. “So, when that report comes in—”
“I will let you see it.” Sephiroth shook his head, and the younger SOLDIER could tell he was almost amused by his aide’s restlessness. “You’d receive a copy as his mentor in any case.”
The SOLDIER First gave up any pretense of doing work, grabbing his chair and dragging it into Sephiroth’s office. The General didn’t so much as twitch; this was hardly the first time Zack had pulled this. Grabbed one of the many brain teasers off his desk, the dark-haired man plopped down in the chair, quite content to stay there until the report came in.
For a long time, the only sound was the quiet click of Sephiroth’s keyboard, the scratch of his pen across paper, and the occasional clink of Zack’s puzzle-toy. Finally, the telltale chime of an incoming message sang through the air.
Zack was out of his chair in a heartbeat, peering over Sephiroth’s shoulder. He relaxed a little as he noted the statistics at the top of the document. Along with the location and the number of monsters killed, there were statistics for those wounded or killed in battle — thankfully, none on this mission. Still, that wasn’t what he really wanted to see.
As if he could sense Zack’s growing impatience, Sephiroth skipped the mission details and jumped down to the commentary section, most notably the one labeled “Recommendations.”
“Granger? Granger? That inefficient tank?” Zack yelled, glaring at the screen. A recommendation was automatically awarded to the SOLDIER with the most kills on a mission… not that Granger would end up doing anything with it. The man was of strictly average intelligence, had little knack for magic, and didn’t bother applying himself to much other than monster killing and physical training. Chances were good he’d stay a Third Class for the rest of his career.
Recommendations were an important part of the advancement process. A SOLDIER wouldn’t even be considered for class promotion until he had earned minimum of three recommendations; four were needed to actually make the jump, plus specialist-notarized clearance for the SOLDIER to have higher-class treatments, and then Sephiroth needed to sign off on it to finalize the promotion.
Zack was clearly disappointed Cloud hadn’t gotten the recommendation — but then Sephiroth scrolled down a little.
Recommendation for: Strife, Cloud; SOLDIER Third Class
SOLDIER Strife showed an advanced level of skill with the sword, far surpassing his classmates. He also demonstrated excellent mastery of basic elemental materia, and observations indicate he will become skilled in handling higher-level spells as well. He also exhibited a good grasp of tactics and ability to utilize the terrain to his advantage. It should be noted that while Strife made fewer kills than many of his fellows, it was not due to lack of capability; he often drew back from finishing off opponents in order to let those who were less skilled gain some experience in defeating a wounded enemy. He also displayed a knack for teaching, coaching some of his less competent partners with their opponents. We both recommend Strife not only for promotion to Second Class, but a shift into the officer track as well.
“That’s my boy!” Zack whooped, but then paused. “Hey, wait a second… If they both recommended him, does that count as one or two?” They’d certainly praised Cloud enough for it to count as more than one.
“One, I believe,” Sephiroth replied. “Giving it additional weight to it might be easily construed as playing favorites.”
“I doubt Cloud’ll really be ready for Second Class for a while anyway,” Zack mused. “I mean, he could definitely use more work on his fluidity with the sword, and I know for a fact he needs a lot more practice in Wutaiian.” After the war, it had seemed prudent to have higher-ranked SOLDIERs gain at least a passing familiarity with the language, in case hostilities flared up again. “Even he can’t learn a language in two months.”
“He’ll be ready in a year or two,” Sephiroth agreed. “However, for the time being…”
Catching his superior’s meaning, Zack snatched up his chair and his toy. “Right, back to work. Did they say when they’ll be home?”
“They should return at 1900 hours tomorrow.”
“Great — that gives me plenty of time to come up with a way to celebrate. Thanks, Seph. I owe you one!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cloud couldn’t help grinning at the sight of the SOLDIER barracks, and those around him did the same. It was really nice to be home after such a long mission. Two weeks away was a long time.
The blond blinked. Had he ever consciously thought of Midgar as home before? He didn’t think so. “Home” had been Nibelheim, with his mother and Vincent, for as long as he could remember. When had the city become home? When he had made SOLIDER? When Vincent had come with him to Midgar? Cloud didn’t know.
“Hey, Strife! We’ll see you around, okay? I’m going to go hit the sack.”
“All right, Granger,” Cloud called back. “I’ll probably do the same myself after I check in with Zack.”
The other SOLDIER nodded. “Can’t give my mentor the mission details until after he gets off duty. Tell Lieutenant Zack we all say hi!”
Cloud nodded, waving goodbye as he started up towards Sephiroth’s office. He doubted he’d have anything new to tell Zack, who (knowing him) had probably already pulled the file coming in from the mission commander, but he might as well obey protocol.
“Hey, Cloud!”
The blond blinked and turned, trying to place the familiar voice. He found himself staring at a young man about his own age, dressed in a specialist uniform. He seemed somehow familiar… and then it clicked. “Arthur! Is it really you?”
Arthur Dennett grinned. “Yup!”
“Wow! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Cloud smiled broadly, staring at his bunkmate from his time as a private. “It’s been what, almost two years now? And you’re a specialist, too — that’s great!”
Arthur shrugged. “Well, I wasn’t going to just hang around. I knew you’d make SOLDIER, and after you left, I decided I didn’t really want to stay with the regulars. I’m not cut out for SOLDIER, so I looked around for some other options and ended up applying here.” Arthur touched a black band on his sleeve indicating his status as a specialist-in-training. “I’m not fully certified yet; there’s a lot of stuff I still have to learn.”
Cloud nodded. Being a specialist was tough work, requiring knowledge of science, combat, and information gathering techniques in order to properly watch SOLDIER. They did get better benefits than regulars, however, and better living quarters too, since they lived in the same complex as the SOLDIERs.
“Anyway,” Arthur continued, “I was wondering if you’d like to grab dinner tonight. My treat,” he added, his smile growing shy. “Think of it as, um, a belated congratulations for making SOLDIER.”
The SOLDIER shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m pretty beat. Just got in from the field, so I have to check in with my mentor, write up a report for him, and then I’m going to crash. Maybe some other time — we should be seeing more of each other now, right?”
“I hope so,” Arthur replied, nodding. “And the offer’s open anytime.”
“Awesome! I have to run, but I’ll see you around.” Cloud turned and resumed his walk towards Sephiroth’s office. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can get to bed.
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Genre: General/Drama
Pairings: That'd be telling!
Rating (Overall): PG-13
Summary: It felt like he was dying.
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all associated characters and symbols are the exclusive property of Square Enix and its associates. We’re just borrowing them for a while.
Chapter 27
Cloud shuddered and buried himself further under his covers, trying to ignore the harsh feel of the material against his skin. It was hard to believe that a few weeks ago he had thought these to be some of the nicest sheets he had ever had.
Not that he was thinking very much at the moment — just on the contrary, actually. He was so far out of it he probably wouldn’t have been able to put together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it.
The young man tried desperately to ignore his chills, the heavy feeling of something invisible pressing upon his chest and his hot eyelids. He couldn’t remember being this sick before, though one time he had been very, very close.
It felt like he was dying.
A cool hand gently touched his brow, the contact feeling almost like ice on a hot stove. The touch both hurt and comforted, and Could didn’t know if he should lean into it or flinch away.
“Cloud?”
Someone, saying his name. It had to be… “Vincent?” he murmured.
The hand withdrew. “Go back to sleep, Cloud.”
The part of Cloud’s brain that wasn’t delirious with fever thought this sounded like a good idea. “‘Kay.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Zack stepped away from Cloud’s bed and looked at the blond with worry. At least the kid had managed to get to bed before his treatments had really kicked in; a minor blessing, considering some had started to succumb on their way back from the labs. The problem was Cloud seemed to be feeling the treatments’ adverse effects more than most of the new SOLDIERs, though he wasn’t showing any signs of mutation yet, thank Gaea.
The SOLDIER First dearly hoped Cloud wouldn’t be one of those who didn’t make it. He didn’t think he could bear to lose his apprentice.
“Who’s Vincent?”
Zack looked over at Scott, who’d asked the question. He was grateful that Cloud had been placed with these two, and for more than just having other friends for the blond. Scott and Paul had their own reasons to diligently watch Cloud’s progress; these two would be the first ones to notice if something went wrong. Keeping an eye on new SOLDIERs was one of the biggest reasons ShinRa grouped new Thirds with older ones, but Zack knew Scott and Paul would go beyond mere duty to take care of their friend.
Of course, the awkward questions thing was a bit of a downside.
“A friend of his back home, I think,” Zack replied smoothly, his eyes returning to Cloud’s shivering form. “Has there been any change?”
Scott looked grim. “We’re pretty sure his fever went up again this morning.”
Zack closed his eyes and offered a prayer to whatever god was listening. Four days after treatment he should be getting better, not worse. Don’t do this to me, Cloud… Sighing, he checked his watch. He was already late for duty, and though Sephiroth would be somewhat forgiving in this case — mentors were expected to check on their SOLDIERs frequently in this time period — he wouldn’t be happy if Zack didn’t come in soon. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.”
Scott nodded. “Or if not me, Paul. They’ve got our duty schedules set up so there’s always at least one of us around to keep an eye on the newbies.”
Zack nodded, quashing the little pang of guilt he felt at ignoring the fourth member of the squad. Roberts really wasn’t someone he was very concerned about, particularly since he seemed to be adjusting right on schedule.
Sephiroth didn’t say a word as he came into the office and settled at his desk. Zack had had difficulty focusing since the day Cloud had gotten his treatments, but he stubbornly slogged through his paperwork nonetheless. It was frustrating to be cooped up in the office instead of by his friend’s side, but there was very little he could do to help Cloud at this point, and the paperwork was hardly going to do itself.
Zack snorted a little at that. If he could’ve made that happen, he’d’ve easily become the richest man in the world off selling the secret, especially considering how much ShinRa ran on the stuff. (The company might just have it in for him after that for taking away employees’ busywork and giving them more time to plot office coups and other such subversive things, though.)
Unfortunately, the tedious work didn’t help him dismiss the image of Cloud’s suffering, but Zack did manage to finish — and even got a head start on the next day’s work — by half an hour before it was time for him to leave. Of course, he had worked right though lunch, but he wasn’t really very hungry at the moment anyway. Locking up his desk, he stood to leave, startled to hear similar motion from behind him. “Seph?”
“I will accompany you to see Strife.”
A chill ran down Zack’s spine. It wasn’t that Sephiroth didn’t have a right to see Cloud — he was teaching him too, after all — but the General hadn’t so far. Sephiroth knew the signs of mutation and a bad transition better than anyone else, between his experience in Wutai and his stints in the labs. If something was wrong with Cloud, he would know it, but…
The pair walked swiftly through the halls, Zack’s usual smile gone as he matched Sephiroth stride for stride. In a matter of moments they were at Cloud’s room, Paul answering Zack’s knock. The SOLDIER Third’s eyes widened when he saw Zack’s companion, but he said nothing, saluting as he stepped out of the way so the two SOLDIER Firsts could enter.
There was a palpable tension in the air the moment they did, but it didn’t feel like the usual unease that lurked in the corners when Sephiroth entered a room. Hoping against hope, Zack glanced at Roberts, who appeared fine, before turning his attention to Cloud. Scott stood next to the bed, looking anxious… and there was another figure there, carrying a bag no SOLDIER liked to see. The uniform she wore made Zack’s heart sink, his worst fears confirmed.
A specialist.
No, no, no, Cloud, don’t you dare go crazy on me! Specialists existed to deal with SOLDIERs who had gone out of control. Why else would one be here, unless—
“Well, he’s fine,” the woman declared, scooping up her instruments and placing them back in her bag. “Better than fine, actually.”
Zack looked at the tormented figure in disbelief, then back at the specialist. “What do you mean, fine?”
“I mean exactly what I said.” The specialist met his incredulous stare with calm composure, no little part of her confidence probably coming from the fact she had materials at her disposal that could down a SOLDIER in a matter of seconds. “He’s actually adapting at a higher level than most, which is why he’s taking so long to recover. I’ll be back to check on him, but he should be on the mend in a day or so. I suspect another five before he’s ready to start reconditioning training, however.”
Zack mulled over her words. Cloud’s gonna be a good three days behind the other newbies in that case, but I bet he’ll outstrip ‘em soon enough. In fact, he’d likely consider it a perfectly good excuse to spend more time training instead of just hanging out.
“What I still want to know is why you’re here,” Paul said to the young woman, still watching her warily. “We didn’t send for you.”
“We’ve been hearing about someone with an unusual reaction to the initial treatments. Didn’t take long to track it down,” the specialist replied. “Make sure he gets plenty of fluids; other than that, there really isn’t much you can do for him. Keep an eye on him, of course and call us if things go bad.” She shouldered her bag and left, only giving the briefest of nods and a murmured “sir” to acknowledge Sephiroth.
“Between us, I hope we never see her again,” Paul muttered. “Anyway, is there something we can help you with, sir?”
Sephiroth shook his head. “No. I merely came to evaluate Strife’s progress; since everything seems to be proceeding acceptably, my input is no longer necessary. If you would excuse me—”
Zack sighed as Sephiroth disappeared though the door. Some things never changed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cloud woke up when someone shoved a thermometer in his mouth.
As this was not necessarily the most enjoyable way to awaken, he quickly raised his hand to remove the offending object.
“Hey.” A hand caught his. “Keep that in. I need to check your temperature.”
The blond blinked and lowered his hand. Much to his surprise, the voice came from a girl around his age, calmly taking his pulse. She had dark reddish hair, cut short for convenience, and greenish-brown eyes — pretty, he supposed, but not as pretty as Aeris.
The girl pulled out the thermometer from Cloud’s mouth and checked it. “Just slightly above normal, good. You’ll be up and about by tomorrow.”
“Who are you?” Cloud finally asked, confused as to exactly why there was a girl in his room. He briefly prayed Zack didn’t find out about it; he’d never hear the end of it.
“Sorry. I’m Matheson — Morgan Matheson.” She tapped the insignia on her uniform. “Specialist. I’ve been checking up on you.”
“Oh.” Cloud blinked. Where do I know that— oh! The scientist Red told me about! The SOLDIER briefly wondered if they were related; unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly ask if she knew a scientist he had no reason to have encountered… but it’d be pretty easy to discover that information himself. I need a computer, Cloud thought, and then chuckled to himself. Most people wouldn’t go straight to hacking to find out something so insignificant. Vincent must be rubbing off on me. In any case, it was good to be thinking clearly again, at least. I must finally be getting better.
“In any case, you’ll need to eat something soon. I expect you’re pretty hungry, considering we’ve barely gotten you to eat anything in the last week.” Morgan stood and, with a short nod, left, leaving Cloud to consider her words. Had he really been out of it for a whole week?
“You want something from the mess?”
“Scott?” Cloud asked in surprise, only noticing the other SOLDIER’s presence now. A quick glance around confirmed that they were alone.
The older man smiled at his friend. “Feeling better?”
Cloud nodded slowly. “What are you doing here?”
“What, forgot already? I live here,” Scott teased. “Besides, we can’t leave you newbies alone until you recover.”
“Ah.” Cloud realized what that meant — Scott and Paul must’ve had their duty schedules set up so they could keep an eye on him and Matt.
…Where was Matt, anyway?
Before Cloud could ask about his partner’s disappearance, his stomach growled. He flushed as Scott laughed. “Well, I am hungry…”
“So I hear. I’ll be back in a few minutes with something to eat.” He vanished out the door.
Cloud just lay still for a few minutes, feeling strangely tired again already. His cheeks reddened as he realised that he wore nothing under the blankets, though he reminded himself it wasn’t such a huge deal if one of his roommates had undressed him; it was nothing they hadn’t seen before. It was still embarrassing, though, and it made Cloud wish he wasn’t so much of a country bumpkin at heart. Zack had never been so modest.
He sat up slowly, swung his legs over the side of his bed, and stood — or tried to, his muscles not being particularly cooperative. Falling back onto his bed, he stared at his feet in a mixture of surprise and annoyance. I thought we were supposed to get stronger after this, not weaker! Stubbornly, he pushed himself back to his feet.
“Hey, there — hold on!” Zack came sprinting through the doorway and snagged Cloud by the waist, holding him up straight. “Sit down, take it easy. You’re in no condition to get up just yet; you’ve been stuck in bed for almost a week.”
The blond grumbled, his face red with embarrassment; sympathetic, Zack pulled a large T-shirt and a pair of loose pants out of his closet. “Here. These were big on you before, so they should probably still fit.”
Cloud accepted them somewhat dubiously — the other SOLDIER was being silly; it wasn’t like he’d gained a lot of muscle over the last week, after all — but allowed Zack to help him into the clothes. “How in the world are SOLDIERs supposed to be the best fighting force in the world if they’re like this?” he complained, flopping back on the bed.
“Just wait,” Zack told him, smiling. “A week or two of rehab and you’ll be back up to your old level. After that we’ll start training you to make the most of your enhancements.” He shrugged. “The weakness after is normal, really. Part of the reason we stagger treatment appointments. The first group are already back up and doing enhancement training. Don’t worry, you’ll be back in the gym soon enough.” The dark-haired man plopped down next to Cloud. “So, you want something to eat?”
“Scott already went to get me something, thanks.”
Zack nodded. “I know. He called when he left to tell me you were awake. But what I meant was you want something decent to eat?”
Cloud waved him off. “The mess hall food isn’t that bad.”
Zack chuckled. “Just wait till you try it again. I think you’re in for a surprise.” He ruffled his friend’s hair. “It’s good to see you lucid for once.”
Cloud knew him well enough to be able to read the relief in his indigo eyes. “Was I really that bad?”
“No signs of imminent mutation, according to the specialist, but you were giving us quite a scare for a while,” Zack admitted. He was saved from having to elaborate by the reappearance of his friend’s roommate. “Ahh, food’s here!”
Scott handed over a tray with some sort of poultry and assorted green vegetables. Suddenly ravenous, Cloud took a bite, knowing from past experience that this was actually one of the more edible meals served in the mess—
And he was utterly disappointed. Frowning, he took another bite. Underneath the spices, the food tasted almost… artificial. What in the world was going on?
“Figured that would happen.” Zack looked amused.
“And that’s why Paul and I eat out so much,” Scott put in. “All your senses are enhanced as a SOLDIER, even taste and smell. You don’t get fooled by the stuff they throw on the food anymore.” Cloud grimaced at that; he’d probably have to get used to the peculiar, pervasive stink of the city all over again. “Better hope you make it to First. You’ll get your own kitchenette, and you’ll be able to cook some edible stuff… assuming you can cook, of course.” Scott tried not to smile as he looked at Zack.
The SOLDIER First looked affronted. “I can cook, I’ll have you know. I cook quite a bit.”
“Of course, sir,” Scott agreed, not quite smiling. “It’s just, well, they say you have… somewhat unusual tastes in some things. And I’ve heard about this one incident with a frying pan and a—”
Zack growled. “Shut it, SOLDIER.”
“Yessir,” Scott replied easily, turning back to Cloud. “Anyway, you either have to learn to put up with the stuff in the mess, or put a decent chunk of your paycheck towards eating out.”
“In any case,” Zack continued, “you should finish that, Cloud. Your system should be able to handle it just fine, despite you not having eaten in a while — SOLDIERs rarely have to worry about queasiness. After that, get some more sleep. I’ll stop by tomorrow so we can start on basic rehab. I’m sure you want to be back up on your feet as soon as possible.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
This is utter foolishness, Vincent told himself, lurking in the very staircase he and Cloud had used to help Red XIII escape.
The truth was that the former Turk had become somewhat dissatisfied with his role in their attempt to implicate Hojo. While his research formed the backbone of their case, it was more than a little frustrating to be cooped up in Sephiroth’s quarters most of the time. Having gotten into the lower levels of the lab once, Vincent couldn’t help wondering if he should just attempt to take Hojo out himself… but an annoyingly persistent little voice reminded him he had promised to let Cloud help take the scientist down, and he really shouldn’t take unnecessary risks that more than likely would result in his death. His Turk sensibility was rightly taking precedence over that distressing irrationality he’d displayed more than once in his life, he noted dispassionately, but… it still bothered him. He sighed. Cloud’s influence, I suppose…
He placed his claw lightly against the hidden door to the lower level of the lab. It would be so easy to open it and storm inside, wrecking and killing everything in his way until he found Hojo, but he would never make it out alive.
::Unusually perceptive. Perhaps there is hope for you after all. :: Chaos sounded unbelievably smug.
Meaning…?
::Only that wishing for one’s death often results in it. Many have survived through trying circumstances by their sheer will to live. ::
Vincent frowned, looking at the door again. Unfortunately, his recent research indicated that Hojo knew several things vital to the running of the company, and was apparently the only one in his department who knew them. As long as that was so, it was unlikely any case they put forward against him would succeed.
Assassination might be the only option.
The former Turk didn’t have to close his eyes to picture his student’s face if he ever told Cloud that. The blond would be none too pleased with Vincent’s current thoughts and would undoubtedly make his displeasure known… a side affect of his association with Sinclair. Of course, Cloud would simply point out that Vincent would have to work harder to obtain the information that supposedly only Hojo knew, such as the SOLDIER enhancement formula, so the board had no viable objections when they presented their case.
The black-haired man waited in long-suffering resignation for Chaos’s inevitable commentary on that, expecting some quip about “and he’d be correct as well, you overdramatic human.”
::Why should I tell you what you already know?:: the demon retorted.
If I didn’t know better, I’d expect that you two had joined forces solely to irritate me.
The only response Vincent received to that was amusement, and he shook his head but let it go. Turning away from the wall, he began his trek back down the stairs, freezing as another door abruptly opened. Cursing the lack of cover in the narrow staircase, Vincent did his best to hide in the limited shadows of the wall, studying the man who had stepped out onto the landing below. Someone extremely familiar…
It can’t be.
But it was — the way he moved, the weapon at his waist, even the haircut…
Veld? What was his former partner doing here?
Vincent’s mind reeled. He was so used to thinking of all that he’d cared about in his old life as long gone — his family, Lucrecia, the Turks he’d served with — that the very idea that his former partner still lived seemed completely ludicrous. And yet here he was, not three levels below him, looking as fit as ever except for a touch of grey. I wonder if he’s made Turk Leader… He’s certainly been around long enough for it.
Impulsively, he followed Veld at a safe distance. His former partner was exiting the building via the emergency staircase, which meant something was up; even more interesting, he was going alone. It was rare for a Turk to operate solo, particularly on missions outside the company compounds, and it made Vincent suspicious.
Trailing him became a little easier once they were below the Plate, though Vincent still didn’t follow too closely. He was a little disappointed, actually, that Veld hadn’t noticed him yet. His former partner was completely focused on whatever he was doing, not paying as much attention as he should to his surroundings. Veld had always had a bit of a blind spot that way… though he’d never been as bad as Cloud was.
Vincent followed his partner into a rundown old warehouse, though he crept through a broken upper story window rather than quietly slipping in through a side door as Veld had. Inside an assortment of nasty, visibly armed characters lounged around on several crates, drinking and conversing in low voices; it looked like they were from one of the meaner gangs in the sector. Vincent frowned thoughtfully. What was Veld up to? The Turks didn’t usually stoop to buying information from gang members because of their unpredictable and greedy nature, and… no, he was moving too stealthily for this to be a rendezvous of that sort—
Just as his one-time partner did, Vincent tensed when the floorboard creaked, his good hand automatically moving to his gun. Veld was in the middle of a space between two large stacks of crates, and the shadows weren’t deep enough to hide in; even if he could make it to cover—
The man who appeared to be the head of the gang suddenly held up his hand. “Did you hear that?”
His companions quieted immediately, and their leader turned towards the crates Veld had darted behind. “Figured ShinRa’d have their dogs after us eventually,” he announced, a hint of malicious glee in his voice, “but didn’t expect just one of ‘em.” He stepped slowly towards Veld’s hiding place, and the Turk drew his and slipped the safety. “Scientist sent his little bitch down here all alone to get his precious toys back, huh?” The gang leader was sneering now. “Just you against the six of us ain’t gonna do shit. If you know what’s good for ya, you’ll get the fuck outta here. Unless you want to ‘play,’ of course…” He chuckled.
“You really gonna fight ‘im, boss?” one of the others asked almost nervously. “I mean…”
“Nothin’ to it when we’ve got this baby to even the score,” the leader assured him, hefting an object Vincent was sadly quite familiar with — a tranquilizer gun. That was when the pieces fell into place — Hojo had probably shipped some important project over to Midgar from another lab, but since its contents were borderline illegal he’d labeled it as medical supplies, something he’d done even during the time Vincent had been guarding him. Medicine was second only to weapons in value under the Plate; the shipment must’ve been intercepted. Veld had come down to retrieve the materials, but it appeared the gang that had apprehended them was intelligent enough to figure out they had gotten their hands on something special. Vincent muttered a curse. He had a sinking feeling he knew what at least some of it was, considering what he had seen in Hojo’s files. If they’d loaded up the tranquilizer gun with the stuff…
Vincent reached for his gun just as his former partner aimed past the edge of the crate and fired, hitting the leader right in the temple before ducking back under cover. The former Turk watched over the firefight from above; luckily, most of the gang members had low-end weapons and weren’t very good marksmen. He took a few shots of his own, covering Veld as the Turk reloaded, and his former partner glanced briefly towards his hiding place but said nothing, focusing on his opponents.
“Y’ain’t gettin’ away with this, ya bastard!” one of the few remaining thugs shouted. He pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it towards Veld’s hiding spot.
Veld might be much older now, but he still moved nearly as quickly as Vincent remembered. He flung himself away as far as he could, managing to get just outside the grenade’s blast range. Unfortunately, this left him in plain sight of the final two gang members, one of whom had picked up the fallen tranquilizer gun.
And Veld wasn’t moving.
Oh no you don’t. Vincent’s gun sang twice more, and both his targets fell, dead. The ex-Turk paused, wondering if he should retrieve his former partner, but a quick glance around the warehouse made the decision for him: the grenade had started a fire. It would only be a few minutes before the whole place went up in flames. Returning his gun to his holster, he jumped down, landing beside Veld’s still form. Vincent lifted his former partner into his arms — once upon a time he’d had to struggle to carry him, but Hojo’s meddling had made it painfully easy — and carried him away from the quickly spreading fire.
At least Hojo wouldn’t be getting that shipment back, he noted, allowing himself some small satisfaction at that. Hopefully the stuff wouldn’t spread by air, but if it was what he suspected, it wouldn’t be an issue anyway.
The man in his arms stirred. “Now I know I’m hallucinating.” He chuckled. “Hello, Vin. Nice to see you again, even if I am dead. What’s with the outfit?”
Vincent looked down at Veld sharply. “You aren’t dead. And why would you be hallucinating?”
Veld smiled crookedly and held up his left hand, revealing a puncture wound that already looked unhealthy. Vincent felt his stomach clench. A dart wound… when had he been hit? “You always told me to take care to better protect my hands. Should’ve listened to you, I guess.” He sighed, glancing back at the fire. “Tseng coming out?”
“Tseng?”
“My second. My… partner, sort of.” He shrugged a little. “I thought he was following me.”
Vincent shook his head. “No. That was me.”
Veld stared at him. “You really are alive, aren’t you? I thought… but… How? You died at Nibelheim!”
“Hojo,” Vincent replied shortly, watching as the color drained further from his friend’s face.
Veld let out an explosive breath, eyes dark with anger. “Shit,” he muttered, looking away. “And all these years, I’ve… shit. I should’ve killed the bastard, not…”
Vincent shook his head, settling down with his former partner in a secluded alley. “You didn’t know,” he said roughly, trying to exam Veld’s hand and cursing the uncertain light under the Plate.
“But I should’ve,” the other man retorted. “Here.” He fished around in his pocket with his good hand, passing Vincent a materia. The former Turk took it and activated it, looking at the skin very carefully. It was difficult to tell under its yellowish light, but he thought the flesh was taking on an unnatural green tint rather rapidly.
“That doesn’t look good,” Veld observed dispassionately, trying unsuccessfully to flex his fingers. “And I’m losing motion.” He closed his eyes with a sigh; he knew the signs of imminent mutation as well as any other high-ranking ShinRa employee. “Looks like this is the end of the line for me.” He turned towards Vincent. “Look, I want you to take my materia. And my— well, your gun. I held on to it after you… well, saying ‘died’ seems pretty stupid now.” He grinned, but it was a twisted thing full of pain. “It’s better than anything else they’ve tried to give me, anyway.”
Vincent took the gun, sliding his fingers over it. It would be more difficult to use now with the claw, but it was of far higher quality than the one he was currently using, despite its age. It had been created by the previous head of Weapons Development, and was widely regarded as the finest handgun design in the world. “Thank you, Vel.”
Veld smiled crookedly at the nickname; it had been a long, long time since he’d heard it. “Good luck taking down Hojo, Vin… and I’m sorry. But you better go. Won’t be long until someone comes to deal with that fire. Don’t worry ‘bout me; I’ll be all right.”
Veld was still a bad liar, Vincent noted, and they both knew it. There was no cure for this particular cocktail Hojo had created; when ShinRa employees came to take care of the fire, they’d find his old partner and take him back to the lab. Hojo would be pleased to have a new specimen; Veld would only suffer long and painfully until there was nothing left of himself.
Their eyes met, and for a long moment they simply looked steadily at one another; finally, Vincent nodded, his decision made.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cloud towel-dried his hair, grinning at his reflection in the mirror. He probably should’ve been over it by now, but it still sent a startled thrill through him to see the distinctive glowing eyes of a SOLDIER looking back at him from his reflection. They try to tell you what it’s like, but nothing they say even comes close…
It had been three weeks since Cloud had finally been allowed out of bed. He’d been pretty busy since then, finding out just how out of the loop he’d gotten. It was more than a little frustrating to be constantly falling over his own feet. He had actually gained another two inches in height, putting him at 5’5’’, which pleased him to no end; on the other hand, since he had slept through it, he had no idea how to deal with the change. He had finally learned how most of the rest of his peers felt when they were going through puberty; his own growth had been gradual enough that it hadn’t been much of an issue.
Besides getting his coordination back, Cloud had also had to learn to handle his enhanced senses, strength, and speed. It had been more than a bit of a trial, but he thought he was finally starting to get used to it. He knew now why neither Zack nor anyone else had tried to better explain the changes to him; words couldn’t really describe the sudden new intensity of colors, sounds, and smells, the way the whole world seemed to move just a little slower, the way it was so easy to forget your own strength until whatever you were holding had snapped, shattered, burst, or ripped without you even noticing.
The benefits definitely outweighed the occasional frustration, though. A little over two hours ago, Zack had dragged Cloud outside Midgar for a run on his bike — or at least, the company-owned bike that was generally left for his use because he took care of it like it was his own child. He’d long had a particular fondness for the motorcycles assigned for SOLDIER use in Midgar. Cloud hadn’t been too keen on the idea, well aware that Zack’s driving was erratic at best; his mentor had taken him out for a ride before, and Cloud had never been so violently motion-sick in his life. In the end, however, Zack’s stubbornness had prevailed, as usual — much to Cloud’s disgruntlement — which had left the blond clinging to his friend’s back as they had zoomed across the dusty plains surrounding the city.
I don’t know how I could have ever hated it before. Maybe it was just his increased reaction time, but Cloud finally understood now why Zack had always taken so long to swerve away from rocks and the like. It didn’t feel so incredibly dangerous anymore; all those close calls that had terrified him before were thrilling now. Zack had even promised to let Cloud drive next time, and he was eagerly looking forward to the experience.
Now, though, he was almost late for his study session with Vincent. Grabbing his clean uniform, Cloud quickly dressed, briefly running a brush through his hair before giving up and allowing it to take on its bizarre natural style. After all the dust that had gotten kicked up by Zack’s motorcycle, the shower had been absolutely necessary.
The walk to Sephiroth’s quarters was uneventful, except for a few waves from other SOLDIERs. Cloud had to smile at that. By now it was normal for him to be dropping in at Sephiroth’s quarters during the day; if he wanted to track Zack down, Sephiroth’s quarters were the second place he checked, right after the General’s office.
“Hello, Vincent,” the blond said as the door shut behind him. “Anyone else around?”
Vincent shook his head. “Sit.”
Mildly surprised by Vincent’s curt response — it had been a long time since the former Turk had been so abrupt with him — Cloud took a seat next to his mentor. Vincent immediately began quizzing his student on the material they had covered last time, mostly on the art of sniping and locating snipers. Cloud responded promptly, having studied extensively before coming, but only had half of his mind on the information. The rest of him was closely studying Vincent.
The gunman looked… off, somehow. Cloud was having a hard time trying to pin down a reason, though. He could count the number of times he had seen Vincent upset on one hand (and, he had to admit, he’d been the cause of most of them), but Cloud just knew that something was bothering him. Vincent seemed… unsettled, in a way that kind of reminded him of how his mom would get every once in a while.
Maybe “unsettled” was the wrong word for it. Maybe it was more like… grief, perhaps?
Vincent changed the subject; now he was lecturing about gun types, their ranges and weaknesses. Cloud did his best to put the matter from his mind and focus on the information, scribbling down notes in a book he left in Sephiroth’s quarters for this very purpose. An hour passed quickly, and Vincent brought his lecture to a close. The blond snapped his book shut, capped his pen, and hesitated. Usually he’d rise now, bid his teacher goodbye, and leave. Today, though…
“What is it?” Vincent asked, raising an eyebrow. The younger man still hesitated, not quite sure how to ask his question without being insensitive; his teacher sighed. “Just ask, Cloud.”
He took a deep breath. “Did you know the former Turk Leader?”
Something around Vincent’s eyes tightened, wordlessly answering his pupil’s question. “Yes. He used to be my partner.”
“Oh.” Cloud flushed. He really needed to talk to Zack about how to ask questions like this. “Um, how… do you think he died?”
“You hear more than I do.” The ex-Turk leaned back in his seat. “What are they saying?”
He had to smile at that. With how rarely Vincent got out, it was no surprise Cloud had heard more. “Some people say he got shot in a mob hit. Some say he burned to death; Some think he didn’t burn, but smoke inhalation killed him. Others think he got blown up.” He hesitated. “Some think committed suicide; there’s a rumor going around that ballistics matched the bullet they found in him to the same type of gun he used, but a lot of people think that’s just stupid. A couple of people claiming to be ‘in the know’ are saying the gunshot wound was wrong for suicide, and the gun was missing. But then again, if he was shot below the Plate, it would’ve been stolen anyway.”
“A grain of truth in all of them, but none quite right,” the sniper murmured cryptically.
His student stared. “You do know!” He stopped, thinking. “Wait a minute; that means you—”
“Cloud,” Vincent began, staring at his lap, where his slender-fingered human hand and the bulky golden claw rested side by side, “on occasion there are things a man must do that he may not particularly want to do, but the circumstances leave him with little choice. Society may condemn him for his actions, but without knowing the whole truth of the matter…” He shook his head. “It can be… difficult for them to understand, if not outright impossible—”
The SOLDIER blinked. “Vincent, are you… okay?” The former Turk’s mouth snapped shut, and his fingers tensed against his leg. Cloud wasn’t sure what to do. What could he say that could possibly—?
Oh, no, he thought, suddenly horrified. No way. There was no way he… The blond shook his head with a sigh. No, there definitely was a way… and he really wasn’t sure how to make his mentor feel better about it.
“Um,” he began after a few awkward moments of silence, “is there going to be a service or something? Maybe you could sneak in.”
Vincent shook his head. “Turk deaths are… not recognized,” he answered, still not looking at his student. “The body has likely already been properly disposed of.”
“Isn’t that a bit harsh?” Cloud asked softly. “What if he had family?”
“Turks’ familial connections are deeply buried. It’s not rare for them to be orphans, or from abusive homes. I’m sure you’ve noticed how the Turks are addressed only by their first names?” Cloud nodded. “It’s part of the basic protection. You know far more about the Turks than most, and have seen — Reno, was it? — more often than many in the military ever do. Even SOLDIERs rarely deal with them,” Vincent explained. “Despite the fact that the entire army seems to know of their existence — for a long time they’ve ostensibly operated as a group to scout out and recruit SOLDIERs, though since the war with Wutai young men have been eager enough to enlist that it’s rare for them to do so anymore — they are very much one of ShinRa’s most secretive outfits. You’ll rarely find a civilian outside Midgar who knows much besides the name, unless they have military ties or moved away from the city.”
“But there are always rumors,” Cloud added.
“Of course. That’s simply human nature.” Vincent glanced over at the clock, then back at his student. “Anything else?”
Taking the hint, Cloud stood. “No.” He sighed. “I’m just really glad I didn’t join the Turks. I don’t think Mom would take it well if anything happened to me. There wouldn’t really be any closure.”
“Not that anything is going to happen to you.” Vincent’s red eyes bored into him.
“Of course not!” Cloud hastily reassured him, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “Zack would drag me back kicking and screaming if it did! And I don’t even want to think about what type of training torture you’d come up with to make sure it didn’t happen again.”
Vincent nodded. “Just remember that when you leave on your mission tomorrow.”
“Mission?” Cloud’s eyes glowed brighter than normal. “I’d better go find Zack, then—” His official mentor would know what was going on. “We’ll talk later!” Flashing Vincent a quick grin, he zipped out the door.
Vincent breathed a sigh of relief, glad his attempt to distract Cloud had worked; the boy was usually far too good at recognizing it when he tried. He checked the gun he had stashed under his cloak, thankful Cloud hadn’t seen the weapon. While Vincent was reasonably sure his protégé had never seen Veld’s gun, he did know the blond would have noticed the difference between it and the weapon he’d carried for the past twelve years. His human hand settled on the cold metal. It was… comforting, having a piece of his old friend, his old life with him now.
Shaking his head, the former Turk settled himself in front of the computer and began typing, pulling up the copy he had downloaded of Hojo’s private logs. He hadn’t been extremely successful at finding anything to implicate the scientist — despite the number of plots he’d found him involved in — that were serious enough to get the man removed, but he had managed to get hold of this when Hojo had briefly accessed the main network. Going through the entries had been quite enlightening in all the wrong ways. Resuming where he’d left off, he frowned as continued reading. This could be a problem…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tap, tap, tap.
“Zack—”
“Yeah?” The SOLDIER looked at his superior through the open door. “Need something, Seph?”
Tap, taptap, tap—
“Will you please stop tapping your pen?”
The SOLDIER colored. “Er, sorry.” He put the pen down, and turned on his computer instead. For a few minutes, there was quiet.
Clang, clang, clang—
“Zack…”
“Oops,” Zack muttered, tucking his foot behind his chair to stop himself from kicking the metal desk. He clicked on the radio and tried to focus on the report in front of him.
Thud, thud—
“Zachary.”
“Gah!” Zack slammed his hand against the desk, stopping the drumming of his fingers. Sometimes he wished Sephiroth didn’t have such delicate hearing. “I’m sorry, Seph. I’m not trying to drive you nuts, promise.”
“Stop worrying,” the pale-haired man murmured without looking up from his work. “Strife will be fine.”
“I know, but…” He tried, and failed, to keep his concern from his voice. Cloud was out on his first mission as a SOLDIER without Zack accompanying him, and he was more than a little nervous that his apprentice would bite off more than he could handle. Not that the SOLDIER Seconds in charge of the mission weren’t some of the best when it came to managing new SOLDIERs, and the mission wasn’t even particularly dangerous. Zack just had too much of a protective streak when it came to Cloud for him not to fret when he knew the blond was going even into a mildly dangerous situation. “They’ve been out for over a week without sending word back. That’s unusual.”
“We should be receiving a report momentarily. Rogers sent in a message an hour ago stating they’ve been having a bit of a problem with reception. He indicated he’d been sending in his report shortly, as soon as he finished compiling it.”
Zack snapped around to face him. “So, when that report comes in—”
“I will let you see it.” Sephiroth shook his head, and the younger SOLDIER could tell he was almost amused by his aide’s restlessness. “You’d receive a copy as his mentor in any case.”
The SOLDIER First gave up any pretense of doing work, grabbing his chair and dragging it into Sephiroth’s office. The General didn’t so much as twitch; this was hardly the first time Zack had pulled this. Grabbed one of the many brain teasers off his desk, the dark-haired man plopped down in the chair, quite content to stay there until the report came in.
For a long time, the only sound was the quiet click of Sephiroth’s keyboard, the scratch of his pen across paper, and the occasional clink of Zack’s puzzle-toy. Finally, the telltale chime of an incoming message sang through the air.
Zack was out of his chair in a heartbeat, peering over Sephiroth’s shoulder. He relaxed a little as he noted the statistics at the top of the document. Along with the location and the number of monsters killed, there were statistics for those wounded or killed in battle — thankfully, none on this mission. Still, that wasn’t what he really wanted to see.
As if he could sense Zack’s growing impatience, Sephiroth skipped the mission details and jumped down to the commentary section, most notably the one labeled “Recommendations.”
“Granger? Granger? That inefficient tank?” Zack yelled, glaring at the screen. A recommendation was automatically awarded to the SOLDIER with the most kills on a mission… not that Granger would end up doing anything with it. The man was of strictly average intelligence, had little knack for magic, and didn’t bother applying himself to much other than monster killing and physical training. Chances were good he’d stay a Third Class for the rest of his career.
Recommendations were an important part of the advancement process. A SOLDIER wouldn’t even be considered for class promotion until he had earned minimum of three recommendations; four were needed to actually make the jump, plus specialist-notarized clearance for the SOLDIER to have higher-class treatments, and then Sephiroth needed to sign off on it to finalize the promotion.
Zack was clearly disappointed Cloud hadn’t gotten the recommendation — but then Sephiroth scrolled down a little.
Recommendation for: Strife, Cloud; SOLDIER Third Class
SOLDIER Strife showed an advanced level of skill with the sword, far surpassing his classmates. He also demonstrated excellent mastery of basic elemental materia, and observations indicate he will become skilled in handling higher-level spells as well. He also exhibited a good grasp of tactics and ability to utilize the terrain to his advantage. It should be noted that while Strife made fewer kills than many of his fellows, it was not due to lack of capability; he often drew back from finishing off opponents in order to let those who were less skilled gain some experience in defeating a wounded enemy. He also displayed a knack for teaching, coaching some of his less competent partners with their opponents. We both recommend Strife not only for promotion to Second Class, but a shift into the officer track as well.
“That’s my boy!” Zack whooped, but then paused. “Hey, wait a second… If they both recommended him, does that count as one or two?” They’d certainly praised Cloud enough for it to count as more than one.
“One, I believe,” Sephiroth replied. “Giving it additional weight to it might be easily construed as playing favorites.”
“I doubt Cloud’ll really be ready for Second Class for a while anyway,” Zack mused. “I mean, he could definitely use more work on his fluidity with the sword, and I know for a fact he needs a lot more practice in Wutaiian.” After the war, it had seemed prudent to have higher-ranked SOLDIERs gain at least a passing familiarity with the language, in case hostilities flared up again. “Even he can’t learn a language in two months.”
“He’ll be ready in a year or two,” Sephiroth agreed. “However, for the time being…”
Catching his superior’s meaning, Zack snatched up his chair and his toy. “Right, back to work. Did they say when they’ll be home?”
“They should return at 1900 hours tomorrow.”
“Great — that gives me plenty of time to come up with a way to celebrate. Thanks, Seph. I owe you one!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cloud couldn’t help grinning at the sight of the SOLDIER barracks, and those around him did the same. It was really nice to be home after such a long mission. Two weeks away was a long time.
The blond blinked. Had he ever consciously thought of Midgar as home before? He didn’t think so. “Home” had been Nibelheim, with his mother and Vincent, for as long as he could remember. When had the city become home? When he had made SOLIDER? When Vincent had come with him to Midgar? Cloud didn’t know.
“Hey, Strife! We’ll see you around, okay? I’m going to go hit the sack.”
“All right, Granger,” Cloud called back. “I’ll probably do the same myself after I check in with Zack.”
The other SOLDIER nodded. “Can’t give my mentor the mission details until after he gets off duty. Tell Lieutenant Zack we all say hi!”
Cloud nodded, waving goodbye as he started up towards Sephiroth’s office. He doubted he’d have anything new to tell Zack, who (knowing him) had probably already pulled the file coming in from the mission commander, but he might as well obey protocol.
“Hey, Cloud!”
The blond blinked and turned, trying to place the familiar voice. He found himself staring at a young man about his own age, dressed in a specialist uniform. He seemed somehow familiar… and then it clicked. “Arthur! Is it really you?”
Arthur Dennett grinned. “Yup!”
“Wow! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Cloud smiled broadly, staring at his bunkmate from his time as a private. “It’s been what, almost two years now? And you’re a specialist, too — that’s great!”
Arthur shrugged. “Well, I wasn’t going to just hang around. I knew you’d make SOLDIER, and after you left, I decided I didn’t really want to stay with the regulars. I’m not cut out for SOLDIER, so I looked around for some other options and ended up applying here.” Arthur touched a black band on his sleeve indicating his status as a specialist-in-training. “I’m not fully certified yet; there’s a lot of stuff I still have to learn.”
Cloud nodded. Being a specialist was tough work, requiring knowledge of science, combat, and information gathering techniques in order to properly watch SOLDIER. They did get better benefits than regulars, however, and better living quarters too, since they lived in the same complex as the SOLDIERs.
“Anyway,” Arthur continued, “I was wondering if you’d like to grab dinner tonight. My treat,” he added, his smile growing shy. “Think of it as, um, a belated congratulations for making SOLDIER.”
The SOLDIER shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m pretty beat. Just got in from the field, so I have to check in with my mentor, write up a report for him, and then I’m going to crash. Maybe some other time — we should be seeing more of each other now, right?”
“I hope so,” Arthur replied, nodding. “And the offer’s open anytime.”
“Awesome! I have to run, but I’ll see you around.” Cloud turned and resumed his walk towards Sephiroth’s office. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can get to bed.
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