fic: eir's tomorrow, ch.16 (ffvii)
Jul. 17th, 2010 08:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jukeboxhound_backup
Main post.
16.
Chapter Warnings: Mental illness, slight meta, politics, death, and mental confusion. Woo. Eir's: guaranteed to have a fresh disaster in every chapter.
Word Count: ~8,000
Date: 17 July 2010
Note:
1. My characterization of mental illness is from my own understanding and experience and is not meant to offend or be definitive in any way whatsoever. Given how much is going on in people's heads here, it seemed like a logical issue.
2. Recycling of lines from earlier parts of the fic, as well as events from the original game and BC. It's probably confusing, but hopefully I'll adequately straighten it out next chapter? >.>
3. This chapter is only halfway betaed...
16.
"You look upset," Cloud observed.
Why wouldn't he? But the first thing that came out of Sephiroth's mouth was, "I almost fucked you." Subtlety, meet brick wall, he thought to himself.
"I think it was more the other way around," Cloud replied softly. He frowned. "Maybe. I'm not sure."
"…You don't remember?"
"Maybe. No. I don't know."
"Cloud, I almost hurt you," Sephiroth stressed, feeling sick, "the way some of Hojo's men – "
Cloud shrugged, but didn't meet his eyes. "But you didn't. And it wasn't that often. And only ever in the labs, when I couldn't fight back. Except for that one time I was unconscious in the Honeybee Inn, I think. It happens to a lot of people."
"And that makes it acceptable?"
"Of course not," Cloud snapped.
"So it's only acceptable when it happens to you?"
"What do you want me to say? That I'm disgusted? I am. But it's…just a body. Not even really mine. I don't spend much time in it anyway."
"And by whom are you more disgusted, those people or yourself?"
Cloud seemed to curl in on himself without actually moving. Sephiroth's first reaction was to sneer, to say, That woman in the bar was right; you have either an incredible martyr complex or just hate yourself that much, and at this point I'm not entirely certain there is much of a difference. Except that was something Genesis would say and he bit back the bitterness, very deliberately placing his hands on his knees and taking a deep breath. Self-control. Now, try again.
Cloud wasn't an especially complicated man, once certain basic premises were understand. Intense loyalty. Deeply ingrained self-hatred. Contrarily, the most stubborn will to survive that Sephiroth had ever seen.
"I saw one of them looking at you like that," Cloud whispered. "But you were Hojo's prize and had more security on you."
For a child to be sexually objectified – and that said child was already objectified as a specimen – it repulsed Sephiroth, made him wonder how there could be monsters like that in the world when there were also people like Cloud and Zack. It was cold comfort to know that if Hojo had found out his beloved experiment was being abused that the perpetrators would've immediately ended up on his dissection table. "What happened?"
"I killed him. It wasn't difficult, everyone has a piece of the Lifestream inside them and I was already so close to it…"
And he'd been so oblivious, too, likely just studying a textbook or sleeping while Cloud had to deal with that. Some people were monsters, and some were angels, and somehow all of them were human.
Cloud suddenly blinked a few times and tilted his head confusedly at Sephiroth. "What're you doing here?"
Coldness spread through the general's limbs. "We were talking, Cloud."
"…Oh. I'm…sorry." Confused look. Hand pressed to the temple. He remembered when Cloud used to lay on his bedroom floorboards and listen to the wood, or the flash of terror just before the Planet forcibly pulled him away. Everything could be reduced to biology, physics, and mathematics, Sephiroth believed, but more than that was logic, and theoretically anything that didn't violate logic was therefore technically possible. Sephiroth had already made that initial leap of faith in believing that the Planet was sentient and that Cloud was inextricably tied up in it; he was coming to accept that time wasn't as incontrovertible as most people believed, that the mind could be as powerful as the physical world, and that men would fight tooth and nail just to be able to have a choice in their fate.
"Cloud…what isthis?" He gestured at the flowers and the white horizon.
"The Lifestream. I've been here before, but they always throw me back out."
"No, I mean…were those your memories? Why was I seeing them? What was the point?"
"I don't know." Cloud pulled his other leg up to his chest and wrapped his arms around both knees. Sephiroth held himself perfectly still.
"Are you doing this?"
"I don't know! Hel, Sephiroth, you think I know what the fuck is going on in my head?"
Sephiroth backed off again to consider the situation carefully. As he took another long breath, he noticed a subtle noise that seemed to come from below their feet, and the longer he listened the more certain he was that it was the Planet.
The Calamity. One of the Fallen Ones. Enemy.
Cloud's head jerked, and when he spoke his words were fierce. "No. I told you, he's not the enemy."
A mother wolf protecting her pups. Family. The WEAPONs. Protection.
"I told you not to touch them!"
Sephiroth flinched as the Lifestream around them seemed to contract, as though the air suddenly discovered more gravity while the earth lost some of it, and Cloud grunted in pain. Getting to his feet, Sephiroth started pacing in a wide circle, eyes narrowed at the flowers and wishing sorely that he had the Masamune in his hand.
"Tell the Planet to let you stay here," he said flatly, "tell it to just leave you alone."
"You've said that before," whispered Cloud. "When you were little. You never cried when you were little."
"If you won't say it, Cloud, then I will."
"You said that, too. It scared me because I thought you were going to break the world again."
Sephiroth continued pacing around both chairs, feeling like that cat in the box caught between two possible realities. "What do you want, Cloud?"
"I've done this before."
"…What?"
Then Sephiroth had a flash of that dream-like knowledge: Cloud as little more than mindless puppet, giving Sephiroth the Black Materia, washing ashore in Mideel in a mako coma that Tifa had to pull him from.
Cloud said quietly, "I don't…I don't know what to do."
Sephiroth examined him from a distance, ignoring the way Cloud flinched under such scrutiny. "Sometimes," he admitted slowly, "when I am confused, I pretend that another person is in my situation and that I am the observer. It provides context."
Cloud shifted in his chair again, glanced off to the side, tilted his head as though listening to the Planet. He looked like a young man that had been hunted all his life, self-conscious, often lost in thought and dreaming of things being different.
"I think…that I would like to be alone for a little while."
No, was the general's immediate thought. Tell me what's going to happen. Don't run away. But all he said was, "If that's what you want."
…
Sephiroth woke up. He was half sprawled over Cloud, pinning him down. For a long moment he didn't think of anything, just felt the softness of the sheets, the warmth of Cloud's body, the faint but steady beat of both their hearts. A window was still open; he could feel a slightly humid breeze with the scent of ocean salt and flowers. The room was silent.
Raising himself up on his elbows, he stared down at the blond. There were no wings, no feathers, just two exhausted men in a room he didn't recognize and a self-awareness he hadn't felt for a long while now. When he sat up, every muscle protested sorely, making him wince and run a tired hand through the tangle of his long hair. There were still red marks down his chest from Cloud's nails and his bottom lip was crusted with a little blood from…well, from one of them, he wasn't really sure who had bitten whom at that point. He'd be lying if he denied having thoughts like that about Cloud during puberty, but he firmly pushed it all away, determined to focus on more practical things. Like a shower. And finding a damn hairbrush.
Standing up was an interesting experience. His balance wavered, nearly sending him through a sliding rice-paper panel – wait. Rice-paper?
…Wutai?
He found his coat neatly folded on top of a beautifully enameled dresser, his boots tucked neatly underneath. He ignored both and pulled on a short cotton happi, faded from black to a soft grey with wear, over his leather pants, and with one last glance at Cloud he padded barefoot from the room.
As a wordless peace offering, he left the Masamune in the sword rack that had been thoughtfully provided.
Figuring no Wutaian would've left him alone, he listened carefully as he wandered down the hallway. He sensed someone – several someones – just before he found the restroom, and with careful casualty he slid the door closed and shucked off his clothes. Though his mind was as sensitive as skin that been rubbed raw, his body had taken the chance of two days lying in bed to heal the wounds left by the WEAPON in Mideel, and the hot water was as refreshing as getting a glimpse of the Promised Land.
Showered and brushed with a bone comb he'd found on a shelf, he opened the door and found himself staring back at three very stern Wutaian men in military garb.
"General," the one in front, a captain to judge by the colors of his sash, said neutrally. Sephiroth arched a brow but didn't say anything, and the captain didn't seem to him expect him to. Sephiroth allowed himself to be escorted down a second hallway, one man in front and the other two behind, to a wide reception room that was uncomfortably familiar. Godo sat on the far side of a long, low table, and if there weren't any treaties or conditions of surrender on it, the gesture was clear enough. My only solace from now on will be in the hope that, one day, the great General of ShinRa knows what it is like to lose everything he loves, the emperor had once said. The hope that he will look to Wutai and see its ravaged country as a mirror to his heart.
"Lord Godo," he acknowledged without inflection.
"ShinRa General Sephiroth." His tone of voice was inscrutable. He very obviously didn't ask Sephiroth to sit down, leaving him standing in the midst of soldiers. "I wonder, General, have you known heartbreak?"
The last several days were still horribly fresh in his thoughts, and Godo's words were like a sharp blow to the chest. But. "I thought I had," Sephiroth said softly, "but I know now that I can only gain."
The gazes of the general and the emperor met over the bare table for a long, heavy silence. Godo spoke first. "The only reason I have allowed any of you to step foot on my land is for the sake of my daughter. I received a call from one of ShinRa's directors asking me to take you in, and the things he told me were corroborated by my daughter and by our own scientists. If it's true that this Cloud Strife is essential to defeating these WEAPONs, as you call them, then I will show him hospitality.
"But you no longer have an army behind you. The moment you so much as look at one of my people the wrong way, ShinRa General, the Four Gods will destroy you."
Sephiroth nodded once in understanding. He'd expected a far more explosive anger anyway, not this coldly dignified hatred.
Godo watched him for a moment longer, then continued, "Your lieutenant is trying to make contact with your capital. You may join him, or you may return to your room."
Restricted movement, then, rather than outright imprisonment. It rankled something deep inside of Sephiroth, who'd known nothing but the interior of laboratories for many years, but he just nodded again and didn't fight when he was unceremoniously guided out of the room.
That was brief. Thank the gods.
He was led into another room with a low table. Zack was sitting on top of it with his legs crossed, stabbing irritably at a PHS while Nanaki fiddled with a second one. A Wutaian soldier was already standing in one corner of the room, hand openly resting on the end of a katana.
"This fucking useless thing – "
"Lieutenant?"
" – swear to the gods I will take you out back and shoot you – "
"Zack."
" – and maybe I'll shoot you anyway for making me cuss in front of a superior officer in public. Yes, sir?" Zack saluted awkwardly.
"At ease."
"Thank you, sir."
"Lieutenant, if I may, I would like a word with you."
Zack looked back at him carefully, Sephiroth keeping his face impassive, and he shrugged, tossing the PHS onto the table. He followed the general into the corridor for some semblance of privacy, though the guards were never more than a shout and a shuriken away.
"Lieutenant," Sephiroth started, then, "no. Zack. Zack, I wish to apologize to you."
"Uh."
"I would like to say that I'm not normally like this," said Sephiroth formally, "but in truth I have been acting irrational for a very long time. And I must apologize for the weight it has placed on your shoulders."
Zack did a rather good impression of a goldfish.
"You have been acting as more of a commander than I. I…do not know the current situation in ShinRa, but if I have retained any power of my rank, I wish to promote you to SOLDIER First."
"No offense, sir, but…what the fuck? Where did this come from? When?"
When you make a decision, follow through. "About five minutes ago," Sephiroth admitted, "but that doesn't make it any less sincere, nor any less deserved."
"…Uh. Does this mean I'd have to get the same mako showers? Because no offense again, sir, but I'd rather stay a Second if that's the case."
"No. And stop calling me 'sir.' And, Zack? Take the time to consider it. You have a choice."
"…I will. And, er. Not to change the subject, but if you're awake, where's Cloud?"
"Still unconscious." Sephiroth said nothing of what had happened between them, physically or mentally, holding the hurt and confusion close inside. "And I wish to also apologize for my behavior concerning him – "
"Sephiroth, no offense again, but please stop talking." The general twitched hard enough to make the Wutaian soldiers start reaching for weapons, and Zack explained, "You don't have to apologize for anything. Well, okay, maybe for being rather spacey lately, but seriously."
Sephiroth wasn't sure how to explain that he'd accepted Hojo's explanation of Gast and Ifalna's disappearance in silence, that he would have left ShinRa if only Genesis had asked, that he hadn't been as proactive as he could've been when he knew what Cloud was trying to do – if, if, if. And if he'd made himself into an intimidating man and SOLDIER, it was only because that was what people had wanted of him. A swordsman is, above all else, honest with himself, someone had once told him. That means admitting you're afraid, Sephiroth. But a swordsman is also practical.
"Sephiroth," Zack said gently. "Talk."
"Cloud needs medical attention. It was wrong of me to deny him that." Be honest. "How long have we been here?"
"Um, three days, now."
"Have you gotten a hold of Reeve?"
"No," Zack growled in frustration, running a hand through his hair and glancing back into the room where Nanaki seemed to be getting nowhere with the phones. "We've gotten through to Cid just fine way over in the hangar, so it's not the PHS, but it's like there's a blackout over Midgar. Tried calling one of my buddies, Kunsel, but that's not getting through either."
"Is it a WEAPON?"
"Seems most likely, doesn't it? Although how the hell it's managing that, I have no idea." Zack threw his arms in the air, not caring that it made the Wutaian soldiers scowl. "Best I can figure, some of us should stay with Cloud while the rest take the Highwind over to Midgar, see what the hell's going on."
When Sephiroth hesitated, Zack grinned lopsidedly. "No one will hold it against you if you stay here."
"There's already a very limited number of people able to deal with this kind of situation."
"Yeah, but if you're there worrying over Cloud, and if Cloud wakes up in gods know what kind of state here, neither of you will be much good for anything."
"And you, Zack?"
"…Well, someone's got to do it, right?"
"Stay here, Zack," Sephiroth told him firmly. "Send Angeal."
"Sephiroth, you do realize that sending Angeal out to fight right now would turn it into some kind of honor suicide mission, right?"
"I've known the man since I was ten years old, Major. Yes, I know."
"Then what're you…wait, what was that?"
"Field promotion. It seemed appropriate since about three seconds ago, but, of course, that is no reflection on the truth of your merits. And I reiterate that it's contingent on whatever power I still retain."
Zack looked torn between being dazed and about to hit him.
"But in regards to Angeal, whatever may result is his decision, whether he dies slowly doing nothing or in battle doing something useful." Cold. But nevertheless true. "Appeal to his honor, then, or what's left of it. Major."
Though still obviously reeling, Zack's lips quirked in a way that shouldn't have been so bitter. "We'll figure it out. Oh, Elena's woken up, thank the gods, turns out that she managed to save some of Hojo's notes. I guess she stuffed them under her jacket before the fire broke out."
"A true Turk," Sephiroth said dryly, and Zack snorted.
"I'm hoping they might have some explanation on how the hell Cloud got to be physically older than me or where the wings – well, I guess you, Genesis, and Angeal all have…uh, had? Wings. So."
"Go see Cloud," the general murmured. "I will stay with this Nanaki."
"I…yeah, all right."
…
The man was naked. He wondered why he wasn't cold, he knew very well what happened to people who didn't dress properly in icy mountain ranges. He looked down at his own body, disinterestedly examining the way his arms ended with hands, the way his torso tapered down at the waist and went on to two legs. Huh. He remembered some scientists talking about this thing called evolution, about how after thousands and thousands of years some of the apes became human, but he couldn't remember where he'd heard them. Wasn't that important anyway.
Was he supposed to have hands?
The heavy weight on his back turned out to be two wings. Were humans supposed to have wings?
He could hear the stars singing.
He could hear the discordant notes underneath the harmony, just a few little mistakes but soon they'd start to add up. Human souls whispered, but the stars were singing.
There was something he was supposed to do. Something…about the number three. He was number four, but what were the other three? Three what?
Family, said a voice as deep and old as the icy mountains. Packmates. The animal instinct to protect one's own.
Oh. That made sense. Somehow. He wondered what his name was. Wasn't he just talking to someone? Someone who had two hands and two legs too?
WEAPON, said the deep voice. The swiftness of a bird's flight.
That…didn't feel right. Didn't make sense the way packmate did. The man didn't think he wanted to be a WEAPON.
The relativity of events.
Can I go back to my packmates? the man asked.
No.
Well, thought the man, that's not very nice. Please?
The deep voice's timbre dropped a few levels, which made the nearest stars a little nervous. The relativity of events. Catastrophe. Genocide. Death.
You know what's going to happen before it happens? That's interesting, said the man, even though he wasn't really sure what time was or why different entities all understood it in a different way. He remembered someone saying that time was linear, but the deep voice seemed to disagree, said that time was like a big circle with a bunch of little circles in the middle. Little lives like humans wolves monkeys insects monsters plants trees didn't know that. Only the stars, and only the planets, could see time like it really was.
Am I a planet too, then? asked the man.
No. WEAPON.
I don't like the sound of that.
Protecting one's own. Packmates. Death. Oblivion.
The man thought hard. So if I'm not a WEAPON, then my packmates will die?
Yes.
But the pain never goes away. Never ever ever stops.
The deep voice understood pain. It had felt it in every living thing that crawled over its surface, had felt it when machines bored into its flesh to bleed it out. Souls, it said. Transcending the physical body. Lifestream.
So if I'm a WEAPON, does that mean I could join the Lifestream too?
No answer.
What happens if I say no?
A barrage of images struck the man in painfully vivid color and earsplitting sound. He saw a woman die with a sword through her back, another man slaughtered by gunfire, a third dead by his own sword not once but three times. He saw the dead come back to half-life and the sky turn into fire.
…Are they worth it?
Animal instinct. The attraction between mates. The protectiveness of an alpha over its pack. The drive to push on even with the knowledge of certain death.
Then I choose life.
Who am I?
Cloud.
…
