Hero of the Day

Looking great, Silver, as it did before as well :slight_smile:

Lovely. just lovely!:smiley:

Awesome :slight_smile: good to see Shinra’s corruption extends from beyond the grave :o

–Yay, more FFVII goodness! :smiley: I really need to start writing on this again, like now. >ahem< Anyway…–

[i]Hero of the Day


“Now deservingly this easy chair…
…But the rocking’s stopped by wheels of despair.”

–Metallica; “Hero of the Day”[/i]


Part V


Karter didn’t like it.

That girl and her little group of rejects that came in from the Badlands—as they were starting to be called by various survivors—were up to no good, and he knew it. She was somehow familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Unfortunately, to makes matters worse, he hadn’t even been able to see her band of friends, because it was so damned dark. He almost missed the constant red tinge that Meteor gave off even in the darkest of corners. Almost.

He was wary of anyone that wanted to join his group. He could never be too sure when one of those rotten scum AVALANCHE decided to come striding in and wreak havoc. His callused hand rubbed against the side of his revolver softly, caressing it like a lover. It had become his closest companion of late. That Shinra issue .22 was the only thing in the world that didn’t leave him when the Sector One explosion destroyed his brother’s home. It was the only thing that survived when his home on top of the Sector Seven plate was obliterated as it plummeted down below, killing everyone on both sides of it. That gun was the one thing he could count on using as he watched dozens of Mako-poisoned people scream to whatever God they believed in for simple death, which he begrudgingly obliged to them.

He stepped into Kalm town, his steel gray eyes washing over the desolate village that lay before him, a foul taste coating the back of his throat. To think that those murderous cowards could possibly be standing there, laughing gleefully at their turmoil. Black-hearted bastards.

He sniffed the air disdainfully. “We’re here,” he announced, somewhat unnecessarily.

No one in the broken mob seemed to acknowledge his presence, or his words. He didn’t blame them; if he weren’t forced to lead the rag-tag crowd, he would have been lost in a trance as well. Such was the fate of the leader.

“Good,” Cas sighed, running a hand through his thick mop of unruly brown hair. “The question is what do we do now?”

He blinked, a bit surprised at the simplicity of the question, when he again brought his dark gaze to the small town, each building’s side dotted with people from all walks of life. “I’m not sure,” he replied, slightly disillusioned. Sometimes, he had to force himself to remember that the movie’s end didn’t mean the story’s end. Damn life and her twists of fate. “We should try and look for some place to sleep, obviously.”

“No,” the waif of a man answered quickly. “That’s secondary.”

He blinked again, taken aback. “What?”

“What we need,” Cas began, “is supplies. Food, water, materia, potions, anything. Shelter alone won’t keep these people alive.”

He harrumphed to the smaller man, frowning, mocking him mentally. ‘Shelter alone won’t keep these people alive.’ Blah, blah, blah. The only reason he put up with him was because he seemed to be a more soothing presence to people than he. Then again, his first instinct when seeing a survivor was to shoot them square between the eyes, and put them out of their misery. But, that was just him. “If you want to try and hunt for supplies, go ahead,” he instead spoke aloud. “But, at the moment, I doubt anyone here cares about they need, only about what they want. And, right now, what these people probably want is a place to sleep.”

“He’s got a point,” someone in the throng muttered. Several grunts of approval spread through the crowd, and soon, everyone was shuffling off to the nearest available space, searching for a bed.

Smirking triumphantly, Karter turned his gaze to Cas, whom remained steadfastly silent. “Let’s go and find a place to rest, shall we?”

“I’m going to scrounge for supplies,” the shorter man stated defiantly, stalking off to any nearby shops.

He was weak; too concerned with others’ opinions and wishes. Not leader material at all. He wondered if any of the people in the rag-tag group thought the same thing. He wouldn’t have been surprised.

“What’s up?”

Casting a slight glance over his shoulder, he caught sight of the scrawny girl he picked up a few minutes prior. Resisting the urge to snort, he calmly strode away into the dimly lit town, bypassing the various sickly refugees huddled next to each other.

Still, the girl refused to give up. “How’s it going?” she asked, scampering up beside him.

He continued forward, refusing to speak.

Coming to a halt, the girl—Yuffie, he thought her name was—put her hand on her petite hip; a strange sight when her left arm was hanging limply by her side for some reason. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you?”

“Shut up, brat, and leave the man alone,” another voice interrupted sternly.

Karter froze in mid-step, his dark gray eyes wide. He recognized that voice, somehow. Slowly turning, he laid eyes upon a hulking figure, with a gun for an—no. It couldn’t be. As the man neared, the fire-lit tail of the creature he had on his shoulders flickered near his face, and his entire world was sent into a spin of horror, amazement, and hatred.

“Hey, it’s not my fault the guy wasn’t talking to me,” Yuffie countered smugly, unaware of his presence.

“Ya started yappin’ in his ear. He had every right to ignore ya,” the man shot back.

Finally able to move his mouth, Karter glared at the terrorist mastermind whom was responsible for the deaths of his entire family. “Barret,” he hissed menacingly, drawing his weapon.

Yuffie’s eyes widened, watching the action commence. “Aw, shit.”

–There ya go!–

I smell a battle coming! Intresting!:smiley: :cool: :wave:

Now that’s the sorta thing we like to see!!:smiley: :smiley: Keep it coming!! :wink:

–Working our way up the ladder…–

Barret frowned, glancing about suspiciously. He had a bad feeling about this place. The vibe he was getting was of too many people, too close together, carrying way too much of a grudge for his liking. Self-consciously, he felt the cool metal of his right arm brushing against his thigh as he trudged along, searching for any place that could have any restorative items. From the looks of things, though, it didn’t seem that Kalm had many—or any—supplies left to offer them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone glaring at him, their round eyes narrowing as he passed.

Yup. He had a bad feeling about this place. And it wasn’t going away any time soon.

“Barret.”

His eyes snapped up in the direction of his name being said, and instantly noticed he was staring down the barrel of a Shinra-issued .22 automatic pistol, the shiny metal glinting dangerously in the dim light.

Dammit. He should’ve known it was only a matter of time before someone noticed him.

And, not surprisingly, the first mouth he heard shooting off was the brat’s.

“Aw, shit.”

Half of him wanted to punch her. With the gun arm. She wasn’t much of a ninja if she couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut. The other half overruled the idea, though, as he noticed the muscled figure distractedly turning to face her. Seeing his chance, he raised his right arm, aiming directly at his tanned head.

“Barret, no!” Red exclaimed, sinking his fangs into the leathery skin of his shoulder.

The bullets missed their target, dust and debris pluming upwards as he growled in pain, teetering to the ground. “Ow! Goddammit, Red!” he boomed as he dropped to one knee. Pushing himself into a run before the psycho in front of him could get a clean shot, he cried, “What da hell’d ya do that for?!”

“To keep you from damning yourself,” he replied matter-of-factly.

Never one to run from a fight, he ignored Red’s psychobabble, pivoting on his foot to face his attacker. Refugees scattered the open areas, scampering into alleyways and doorways for some possible cover. The enraged man turned his attention back to him, roaring as he unsuccessfully tried to aim through the stampede of panicked people.

Yuffie snapped out of her stupor, barreling towards him with her numb and useless shoulder. In a blink of an eye, she slammed into him, sending him careening into the ground. Before Barret the chance to take another shot at him, a small man with wild brown hair raced into the square, his bright green eyes wide with shock. He recognized him as the leader of the pack, Cas. The guy had guts, that was for sure. It wasn’t everyday that someone ran into a firefight. “Stop!” he shrieked, holding his pale arms out wide.

Lethargically, the inhabitants of Kalm came to a halt, their dirt-covered faces cautiously poking out of their hiding spaces which they still cowered in. With a flourish, Yuffie pried herself off of the prone gunman, who was currently lying on the ground, ‘mistakenly’ kicking him once in the side. Growling hatefully, the large man rose to his feet, waving off the attempts of help from Cas.

“Karter,” he exclaimed, “I heard gunshots, what happened?”

Karter’s dark eyes hardened in rage, his chiseled lips curling down unnaturally into a scowl. “He fired on me,” he hissed, nodding his head in Barret’s direction.

Slowly, everyone’s eyes fell to rest upon him. Inwardly, their piercing gazes sent his skin into a crawling frenzy, and his stomach into a dance routine. Outwardly, though, he was just pissed. “That was ‘cuz he pointed a gun at me!”

Cas’ eyes flitted from him to Karter’s, unbelieving. “Is this true?” he questioned to no one in particular, his posture expectant.

The night air was silent, the only sound prevailing being a small, blustering wind. His stomach flipped upside-down, a tingling sensation shooting down his leathery skin. No one had even uttered his name, and everyone already hated him. Not much of a confidence booster.

Resolutely, Yuffie stepped forward, her elfin face raised upward in determination. “I can vouch for him.”

“You want us to believe you?” the muscled man snapped.

“And why not?” she demanded.

“You attacked me without provocation!” he shouted, his face reddening in anger.

“You pulled a gun on him, that’s all the provocation I need,” she retorted, putting her hand on her hip.

Cas frowned, running his hand through his thick chocolate mane. “Alright, just tell me this, Karter. Why?”

Karter blinked, his posture betraying his surprise. “You mean, you don’t recognize him?”

Cas glanced between the two of them, furrowing his brows. “Sure, he seems a bit familiar, but what does that have to do with anything?”

Barret suppressed a groan, bracing himself for what was to come.

The surprise dissolved into anger and hatred, and it clearly showed in his voice. “That’s Barret. The leader of AVALANCHE.”

Gasps of shock wafted from the crowd, and the gentle wind swiftly became twenty degrees cooler, chilling him to the bone. Putting up a front of strength, he set his jaw, staring straight ahead as Karter casually strolled forward. “Why so silent? Aren’t you going to deny your charges?” he demanded.

“Wait,” Yuffie interrupted, stalking forward. “Since when did this become a trial?”

“Since all the courts were destroyed when Meteor hit,” Karter replied, glimpsing to Barret meaningfully.

“You never exactly told us what we’re charged with,” Red said calmly, attempting to be the voice of reason.

Karter smirked coldly, his gaze never wavering. “You want to know what you’re charged with, do you?” Stepping away, he pivoted on his heel, clasping his hands behind his back. “How about we start with murder?” Casting a glare over his shoulder, he began pacing around him, like a tiger circling its prey. “The murder of all those innocent people in Sector One.”

He remained silent, grinding his jaw.

“You have no proof—”

“Shut up, Red,” Barret declared quietly. “Ya don’t gotta defend me.”

“Or, how about the bombing in Sector Five, hm?” he hummed, almost jovially. “But let’s not forget the depraved act of destroying the Sector Seven pillar, murdering everyone in their sleep?” Karter persisted.

He blinked. “What?! We ain’t responsible for that!” he stated defiantly. “It was them godda—”

“Or, how about your worst crime of all,” Karter continued, unabated. “The calling of Meteor, with the intent of destroying everyone to make yourself a God.”

“What da hell you talkin’ ‘bout?!” he bellowed, his eyes wide. “We didn’t summon Meteor, we stopped it!”

“It’s true,” Red spoke. “It was Sephiroth that called Meteor; not us.”

Karter scowled. “Oh, please. If you’re going to lie, try to come up with something a little better than that. Sephiroth’s been dead for years.”

“I got proof,” he said, nodding to Yuffie. “You were wit us, Yuffie. Didn’t we stop Meteor?”

Karter glanced over his shoulder, his gray eyes locked onto her ebony ones. “You were in league with AVALANCHE?”

She stood there for several moments, her mouth agape. Barret couldn’t understand what she had to contemplate. She helped save the world. She seemed pretty damn adamant about it on the Highwind, before it nose-dived into the ground. What was her problem now?

To his shock, and confusion, she mutely shook her head, melting back into the crowd.

“Yuffie!” he barked angrily. “Goddammit, brat! Tell ‘em da truth!”

Karter nodded sagely, coming to a halt in front of him. “So, then, it’s true.”

Barret snarled, struggling to hold himself in place. “You gonna regret this! I got friends, ya know!”

“Things like you have friends?” Karter snapped, disgusted.

Growling, Barret stalked forward, jabbing his one hand into Karter’s shoulder. “Jes you look right here, bitch. I dunno what da hell crawled up your ass, but I don’t gotta deal wit this shit! I didn’t destroy da Sector Seven pillar, and I sure as hell didn’t call Meteor!”

Karter frowned, his face suddenly impassive. “Fine then,” he stated coldly. “Prove it.”

“How da hell am I gonna prove it if ya ain’t gonna listen to me?!” Barret retorted. Shaking his head, he sighed. “Look, I don’t got time for this bullshit. I got friends—“ He gave Yuffie a glare. “—I need ta help.” Glancing around to the mob of angry faces, he added, “And I know I ain’t gettin’ it here.” He turned to leave.

“You’ll never leave this town alive,” Karter hissed threateningly.

Barret whirled around, his face explosive. “’Scuse me? What da hell you jes say ta me?”

At some point, a gun materialized in Karter’s strong hand, aiming directly at his head. “I’ll kill you before I allow you to hurt other innocent people.”

“Bitch, try it.”

As Karter opened his mouth to speak, Cas stepped in front of him, interjecting him with, “How about this. You stay here tonight, and tomorrow we’ll convene a hearing—”

He snorted. “A ‘hearing’. That a fancy word for ‘death sentence’?”

“It’s either that, or his way,” Cas stated flatly, nodding back towards the snarling gunman.

Barret paused, taking in his surroundings, and noticing for the first time a small tear-stained face peeking through the crowd.

Marlene.

Dear God, she’d heard everything. How could he explain it to her if he left again? Or shot someone right in front of her? Sighing, he nodded. “Aight. I’ll do it yer way.”

Karter huffed, shaking his head wearily. “I guess I’ll have to play by the rules, too, huh?” he quipped, putting his gun away. Nodding to two larger people in the crowd, he directed them to Barret. “Are you two from Kalm?”

They nodded silently.

“Good,” he answered. “Put him in the strongest cell here.”

Barret glared at him. “What?”

“You still stand accused, Wallace,” he sneered. “And, according to Shinra law, it’s guilty until proven innocent.”

“I don’t see no damn Shinra suits here!” Barret retorted, his dark eyes flaring in fury.

Cas sighed wearily, rubbing his eyes with his slender fingers. “Well, we’re still under Shinra jurisdiction. Unless, of course, you have any better ideas.”

“Yeah. How ‘bout innocent ‘til proven guilty, for once?” he declared.

“Not in this world,” Karter growled, turning away.

“Goddamn Shinra bastards…” Barret muttered, begrudgingly following the two hulking figures in front of him. As the led him through the town, he heard the various things screamed at him, the words pelting at him like a harsh winter rain.

“Murderer!”

“Terrorist!”

“Monster!”

He let the façade of bravado crumble, and his face fell in sadness and regret. Marlene must have been there the whole time, as they said the most horrible things about him, degrading his name and his honor in the worst ways. And, unfortunately, they were right. He didn’t regret fighting for the Planet’s sake. If he were faced with the same choices, he’d do it all over again.

Still, he wasn’t proud of the fact that he killed innocent people. Nor was he proud of the fact that he was forced to hide in the shadows like a coward in order to survive. Most of all, he wasn’t proud of the fact that his daughter would some day have to learn about what he did, and accept it. Or worse yet, hate him for it. It was frightening to think of what he’d done to those people out there, because of his cause.

It was frightening to think of what he’d done to his daughter, because of his cause.

He was snapped back to reality as he was lightly pushed into the dank cellar of the local item store, the only light source coming from a small—conveniently barred—window on the farthest wall. He was led down the stairwell, and listened disinterestedly as he heard the door above slam shut, the scratching sound of something heavy being pushed in front of it.

Tomorrow was his day of reckoning.

His day of reckoning coming in the form of the very people he saved.

He knew he had a bad feeling about this place.

–There ya go!–

I had a bad feeling about that place too. :stuck_out_tongue_winking_eye: Very good, still has its touch!:smiley:

That’s it SilverKnight, just keep it coming, and you’ll be back to where you were before the worm virus struck, in no time!

By the way, that was another brilliant section to your story!

–Bwaha, I come bearing (old/stale–>smack<) gifts! It’s three in the morning, cut me some slack. :D–

[i]Hero of the Day


“Don’t want your hate, but the fist I make for you still no fear…
…No, not on me, so please excuse me while I tend to how I feel.”

–Metallica, “Hero of the Day”[/i]


Part VI


Okay, so she was young. Big whup. She’d been young her entire life; she’d learned to bypass it, and use it to her advantage. And, okay, so she was naïve. That left with age, right? After all, Cid was twice her age, and he seemed wise—or, about as wise as a stubborn goat like him could get. And, okay, so what if she was linked to a terrorist organization…

Holy shit. She was linked to a terrorist organization.

Her face fell. That was so not good for her rep. Not to mention her pride and honor. Among other things.

For a moment, as she watched Barret led away deeper into the center of the town, she was furious. How could they have left all that out? How could they have not told her that they’d killed innocent people before?

Yuffie rolled her eyes theatrically. Right, like walking up and saying, “Hey, I blew up a building, and a pillar, killing thousands for my own benefit,” would have been a real great icebreaker.

Still, she mused, frowning, she never even had a clue. For the first time, she noticed two or three of the straggling hecklers glaring accusatorily at her, their hate filled eyes scorching her inwardly. In response, she made a silly face at them, promptly scaring them off. “Weirdo town…” the shinobi muttered, trudging off into the shadows.

She used her years of knowledge in martial arts and diminutive stature to disappear into the throng of people, her mind whirling. She’d first heard about the attacks in the bar in Costa Del Sol—she couldn’t quite remember the name, given the fact that she wound up completely hammered during every trip to it—and in her drunken stupor believed they deserved everything they got. So, it meant nothing to her that they were killers. In fact, had she met them then, the thief would have most likely cheered them on, shaking their hands gleefully.

Times had changed, though, and so had she.

The waif of a girl forced her way through the crowd, repressing a convulsive shudder as she reminisced upon her cold-heartedness. By spending time with Cloud and the others, she quickly learned that such differences meant nothing. Especially when there was a giant meteor hurtling towards them. Ironic, that those who taught her such morals were ones that thoughtlessly took life for…what reason?

Impulsively, the teenager changed direction, plodding through a dirtied alley towards the direction of Barret, not noticing as the refugees who lined the walls scurried away from her like she carried the plague. She should have seen it coming a mile away. After all, the news reports said that they were AVALANCHE, and even Cloud himself told her who they were. The fact that she never put two and two together made her want to vomit. But then, so did the idea of her trusting her life with them. And then, so did the idea of turning on them so quickly. Not defending your friends in their time of need was dishonorable, and even though she rarely paid attention to the old man as he droned on, a few of his lessons stayed with her, despite her constant attempts to rid herself of his influence.

She snorted. How melodramatic of her.

Squeezing in between the town’s protective barricade and the massive foundation of the pavilion, she came to a halt. The buildings sprawled across a large upraised level of granite, the shadows of the shops that loomed several feet above her falling into the small crevice, swallowing everything in complete darkness. She loved the dark, but with the rough town wall on one side of her, and the granite slab on the other, Yuffie began to feel distinctly claustrophobic. The small thief fought down the urge to turn tail and run.

She crouched low to the ground, stealthily closing the small distance between her and the rough stone side, mindful of the fact that she was most likely being watched by Karter. Noticing the wall was dotted with small barred windows, she took another step forward, cobwebs blanketing her face as she neared. She heatedly swore to herself as she ripped them off with her one hand, the thin threads stubbornly stuck to her eyelids.

Told ya you spent too much damn time wit Cid.”

“What the—” she started, whirling around. In doing so, her face became victim of another spider’s web, only this time, the spider decided to come along for the ride. Secretly terrified of the eight-legged monsters, the ninja shrieked, frantically batting at her face, all the while hopping around into rotted crates and broken potion bottles rowdily.

“Shh! Quiet, kid! Ya attractin’ attention!” the disembodied voice whispered harshly, as she ran about.

“GetitoffgetitoffGETITOFF!” Yuffie wailed, whipping her head around at a dizzying speed.

“Kid, shut da fu—“

Finally, after shamelessly proclaiming her helplessness, she smacked the spider free, and hastily backed away. “I HATE SPI—“

Before she could finish her tirade, a massive hand clamped down over her mouth, forcefully pushing her into the granite, the coarse stone biting into her exposed shoulder. “Kid,” he growled, “you musta made one hell of a crappy ninja, ‘cause ya can’t stay quiet worth shit.”

Her reply was muffled by Barret’s hand. Rolling her eyes, she smacked his hand lightly, indicating that he should let go. On cue, his muscled arm snaked its way back through the bars, the light tapping on the other side telling her she should ‘get to the point’. Quickly, the she repeated herself. “Didn’t you know? I’m the ass-kicking type of ninja, not the silent one.”

“Picked a helluva time ta start bein’ one,” Barret snapped.

Her eyes went wide, and she shrugged. “Come on, what was I supposed to do?”

“How ‘bout not backstabbin’ me?” he retorted angrily.

Yuffie shook her head wearily, forcing down the scowl that wanted to rise on her face. “Look, I didn’t know what was going on, okay? One second, you’re the guy that helped me save the world—“ She ignored a disgusted snort from the makeshift cell, “—and the next, you’re some terrorist who blew up a reactor.”

“I ain’t gonna deny what I did,” the rebel stated solemnly. “Those reactors were suckin’ life da outta the planet. You know that, kid.”

“So, what, you automatically expected me to just jump up and say, ‘Yeah, I helped blow up a bunch of people’?” she huffed, losing the battle on the scowl. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she stabbed her finger into empty air. “And since we’re on the subject of being silent,” the girl spat accusatorily, “what’s up with the whole ‘terrorist’ thing, anyway? Why the hell didn’t you guys tell me any of this?”

“We thought ya knew,” he replied defensively. “And, ‘sides, it don’t matter what we did anyway. S’all inna past.”

“Murder’s never all in the past,” the ninja snapped, her eyes ablaze.

“An’ who the hell are you ta be talkin’ ‘bout my shit in the closet, huh?” Barret snarled. “You were da one who decided ta ditch us for yer own bony ass. So, if you come lookin’ for answers, too goddamn bad, ‘cause I ain’t givin’ ya shit.”

“Look, Barret,” Yuffie sighed, changing tactics. She could always grill it out of him later. “I didn’t ditch you or Red, okay? I was only doing it so—“

“Go away, brat,” he snapped harshly. “I don’t talk ta traitors.” She heard heavy footsteps waft from the small barred window.

She thought about sticking around, anyway, and telling him off, just because she felt like it. After several moments, though, she decided against it, and stalked off. How could they have thought she’d known? The first time she’d met them was while they were wandering the forests outside of Junon for potions and food. She could still remember the first time she saw Barret, that big moron, cussing up a storm because he hated trees, and the bugs that came with them. And he tried to say she made a lot of noise. At least she didn’t swear as much as he did—

Yuffie froze, her back ramrod straight, her almond eyes focused straight ahead. She knew she just heard something. And it sounded too big to be a rat. Well, she corrected herself, it was too big to be a rodent, at least. Rats came in all sizes.

Cautiously, she relaxed her stance slightly, her thin lips curling into an annoyed frown. “Whoever you are, you can come out now,” she called flatly, tapping her tennis shoe on the floor impatiently.

Seconds passed before a shadow hesitantly detached from the mouth of the alley, taking the shape of a small, weary man. Not being able to pin his face at first, her ebony eyes traveled up and down his barely lit form. He was taller than her, perhaps Cloud’s height, with a long mane of thick brown hair that was tied back by some sort of string. What wasn’t held back fell out in small clumps, long brown streaks framing his pale, angular face. His clothes were in poor condition, his long padded jacket covered in dust and torn at the shoulder. The thick green shirt and mahogany colored slacks faired no better. The only thing about the ensemble that seemed relatively intact was his dirtied suede work boots. He noticed her scrutinizing gaze, and cleared his throat quietly, his eyes falling to the ground momentarily. “Hello,” he said, awkwardly.

While the raven-haired shinobi couldn’t pinpoint his appearance, she could definitely pinpoint his soft, melodic voice. “Cas,” she greeted coldly, glaring at him. If she were able to, she would have crossed her arms. For the fourteenth time, she cursed her failure to find any sort of curative materia to solve that problem. Some damn thief she was. Hm, maybe she was starting to act like Cid… “Why were you spying on me?”

“I wasn’t ‘spying’ on you,” he shot back, his voice defensive. “At least, not intentionally, at first. With the racket you made, you could have easily wakened the dead.”

The petite ninja simply frowned, not caring to reply to his comment.

Casting a shaky glance over his sloping shoulder, he strode forward until he was an arm’s length away from her. “So, I take it that you are a part of AVALANCHE,” Cas stated, his voice firm.

“No,” she instantly declared, pausing to gather her thoughts. “Well…at least…not the one that psycho Karter was babbling about.” She sighed, annoyed that she could never seem to ever give anyone a straight answer when it truly counted. “I mean…when I went with them originally, it was just so I could steal their materia later, but…”

“They forced you to stay,” he offered.

Her ebony eyes shot up to his, shocked. “No!” She shrugged half-heartedly. “In fact, there were a couple times that they tried to kick me out,” Yuffie answered honestly, a lopsided grin on her face. “What I was going to say was that they sort of…grew on me. They’re good people. Really.” The teenager fell silent, searching her companion’s face for any sympathy, and wasn’t surprised when she found none. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

His stoic mask fell seconds after the words left her lips, and his cold green eyes flared with the intensity of the sun. “I have no reason to. Barret himself said that he blew up the Sector One and Sector Five reactors. How many innocent people did he kill by doing that?”

“How many people did Shinra kill a day to keep those things going?” she retorted, stunned by the passion of her own voice.

“Well, if you have any evidence to refute it, I’m listening,” Cas spoke matter-of-factly, crossing his arms, the thick leather fabric of his coat hanging loosely from his wrists.

Yuffie held back the urge to just collapse in front of him. One minute, she was grilling Barret, and the next she was defending him. It was just too weird. “Look, I know how bad it seems. I’m pretty pissed about it, myself. But, I know him, and I know them. If he did something, he did it for a good reason. And destroying a pillar doesn’t sound like him.”

“And calling Meteor?” the spindly man prompted.

She harrumphed, shaking her head. “Are you cracked? No!”

Cas frowned, stress lines forming on his pale skin. “How do you know?”

“Because I was there,” Yuffie answered definitely, jabbing her thumb in her chest. “It wasn’t us. Plus, even if it was, how would we be able to? We were all in prison in Junon when Meteor was called.”

For the first time since he arrived, his hard glare softened, his taut face muscles falling in shock. “Are you…” Cas murmured, his eyes darting about wildly. “Wait, you’re right. I remember President Shinra stating that he was going to televise the public execution…!” His emerald eyes went wide, his posture shifting to compensate for the new knowledge that was obviously throwing him off kilter. “But how…? Why would Shinra lie to us?”

“Because,” Yuffie began, “they couldn’t have said that their prize General who had been dead for five years went off the deep end and called Meteor. Wouldn’t exactly be good for their rep.”

“You’re joking, right?” the taller man snorted, his face contorted in disbelief. She shook her head silently. “Are you trying to tell me that General Sephiroth was the one that called Meteor?” The ninja nodded gravely, her hair flopping into her face as she did so. “That sounds…insane. It’s too crazy to be true.”

“It’s too crazy to be a lie,” she countered flatly, her expression dull. “And deep down, you know that.”

“No, I don’t,” Cas huffed, his brows furrowed in annoyance. “Tell me, even if Sephiroth did somehow manage to survive, and remain hidden for five years, why would he call Meteor?”

“You’d have to ask him,” she retorted, non-plussed. “The guy was nuts; crazy, round the bend, three Prozacs short of a bottle, wacko! He thought he was an Ancient, and that some giant squid thing was his mother! I mean, come on!”

Cas’ eyes narrowed, glowering at her petite form skeptically. “…You’re serious, aren’t you?” he answered, slowly.

“Believe me,” she began, her brows raised in a strangely youthful expression, “I’d never tell this unless I had to. I’d be put in the happy shack for life. And I hate straight jackets.”

The spindly man continued to stare at her, more stray strands of brown hair cascading over his narrowed green eyes. She noted his posture was that of a coiled spring; he was ready to bolt off and give her away at any given moment, and the only thing he needed was an excuse. Silently, she begged him not to, because if he did, her plan would go down the tubes. She had to save Red and Barret, if for nothing else than to explain what exactly what happened at the Sector Seven pillar. Quietly, Cas spoke, “Are you willing to tell the others this?”

Blinking, she snapped back to reality. Pausing for a moment, Yuffie dropped her gaze to the ground, running the two choices through her mind. Yesterday, if she had been given these choices, she would have instantly proclaimed his innocence, the consequences be damned. Now, though, she found herself a bit more ambivalent if that action would be the smartest one. Her sharp ninja eyes slowly rose to meet his, hoping to find some clue of what to do from his facial expression. “What do you think?” she asked softly, careful to keep the trademark sardonic attitude out of her voice.

The weary man opened his mouth to speak, but remained silent, his posture thoughtful. After several seconds, he sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping in resignation. “I don’t know, to tell you the truth. Even if you did tell the others, I doubt they would listen to you. Given the fact that you lied to them, they wouldn’t believe a word you said.” He shrugged half-heartedly, his long ponytail swishing slightly with the effort. “And, besides, your story doesn’t sound exactly…”

“Sane?” she supplied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I was going to use truthful, actually,” he answered, blinking, “but I suppose sane would work, too.”

The petite shinobi gaped at him, her raven eyes wide with disbelief. “Why are you helping me?”

Again, Cas’ eyes hardened, a dark cloud settling over him. “I lost friends in the Sector Seven attack. I want the person who made such a hateful assault to be brought to justice. But, I don’t want anyone to be convicted wrongly of the crime. It would solve nothing in the end.”

She fell silent. His focus, like the others on the Highwind only a day or so prior, was focused inward, and Yuffie didn’t want to interrupt him.

Finally, at length, he pulled out of his cocoon of thought, and rejoined her in the alley. “I doubt this question will make any difference, but if you are a part of AVALANCHE, why did you lie?”

She pursed her lips, sucking in a deep breath. “At first, it was only a reaction to what was being told. Out of instinct, I lied, to protect myself.” He frowned in disapproval, slight worry lines forming where they shouldn’t have at his age. “But, since I’m in this position, I figured that I might as well make the best of it, and use this time free to contact the others and give them the heads up of the situation.” Yuffie shrugged, hoping she didn’t look like a moron in doing so. “Stupid, I know, but there’s no point in me beating myself up for it now. The only thing I can do is make the best of it.”

Cas slowly nodded in agreement, before he whipped his head around nervously, his green eyes darting about the nearby square. “I’d better go,” he murmured. Turning back around, he asked, “Are you going to tell the townspeople this?”

Resolutely, the ebon-haired teenager shook her head. “Why waste time telling them what we both know they won’t believe? Plus, it puts me in danger.” A cocky smile formed on her thin lips, a resilient glow shining in her dark eyes. “Believe me, by the time that ‘trial’ thing happens tomorrow morning, the only thing you’ll have to do is sit and watch the fireworks.” She waggled her eyebrows dramatically, emphasizing her point.

Silently, he acknowledged her comment, swiftly moving off into the seemingly deserted square. The grin still adorning her face, the thin shinobi made her way carefully out of the small alley, her hawk eyes searching for any place that she could sleep for the night. She pivoted on her heel, preparing to recheck what she had missed, when her eyes caught the retreating figure of someone who, moments ago, was only standing feet from her and Cas—

Her eyes widened, the insinuation dawning on her. The figure dared to take a glimpse over his broad shoulder, his cold gray eyes focusing on her for but a moment. Her face paled.

“Karter,” she gasped.

–There ya go!–

Looking good as always, Silver! :smiley: Though those cliffhangers are killing… even if I’ve already read more laughs

–Yippie ki-yay, or something.–

Goddammit, he hated being selfless.

Cid swore at himself. Why the hell did he open his big mouth and volunteer to carry Spike? He halfheartedly wished that he had just ditched the ex-SOLDIER back at the crash site and let him fend for himself. But no, he had to appease Tifa, who had pulled out all the stops by getting all teary-eyed around him. He swore again; he hated to see people cry, and especially women. Damn her.

He scrounged in the remains of his jacket, praying to some higher being that one of his cigarettes could have happened to survive the crash. He swore yet again when his hand came up empty. He needed a damn cigarette, or else he was going to go insane. His withdrawal headache, coupled with the persistent throbbing of his wound, was putting a great deal of strain on his already short—and thinning—patience.

Feeling like he was about to pass out at any moment didn’t exactly help matters, either.

“Is Cloud awake yet?” Tifa asked quietly, casting a worried glance over her shoulder.

“Nah,” Cid huffed in return, stopping and shifting the unconscious mercenary on his shoulder before continuing. “Believe me, Teef, the sec he’s awake, you’ll know, ‘cause I’m droppin’ his scrawny ass. He’s really damn heavy.”

She slowed her pace, coming up beside him, her thin lips curling up into a wry grin. “Is that so?”

“Well, yeah,” he retorted, swallowing the thread of vulgar words that threatened to pour out as Cloud’s limp arm smacked into his tender and swollen side. “’Sides, all of his goddamn armor ain’t helpin’ much, either—“

As if on cue, the ex-SOLDIER started to rouse from his slumber, his previously limp muscles tensing and going taut. The first muscle that seemed to do so, much to the weary pilot’s chagrin, was his right arm, which slammed into his ribs with an impressive amount of force for a half-dead guy. On reflex, he swore like a sailor, quite literally grabbing the dazed and confused blond by the arms and hurling him headlong into the ground, seconds later collapsing, his energy spent.

Tifa blinked, her mind failing to exactly register what took place mere inches from her. She blinked again, her eyes going wide, and she exclaimed in shock, diving into the lush strands of grass to nurse Cloud back into consciousness.

The pilot frowned, and contemplated throwing his arms up in exasperation, realizing seconds later that he was too damn tired.

Lethargically, Cloud opened his bright blue eyes, his gaze resting on Tifa, whom had so kindly decided to place his head on her lap. Cid wanted to puke. “Mornin’, Spike,” he jibed, his rough voice dulled by fatigue. “Sleep well?” The lanky blond merely blinked, clearly still lost somewhere in La-La Land. The gruff pilot harrumphed, regretting it seconds later. “Ya damn well better have,” he muttered heatedly, “I carried ya the whole damn way.”

Cloud’s eyes lazily rolled from the left to the right, closing seconds later. “…Comfy pillow…”

Cid didn’t resist the disgusted snort that escaped his lips; opting to use what strength he had left to pull his bruised and exhausted legs out from underneath his equally sore rump. After shifting and swearing, he finally settled in a semi-lying position; propping himself up on his elbows, his legs crossed in front of him in faux non-chalance. Giving into his overwhelming tiredness, his body sagged into the ground, his smoky eyes closing as he sighed deeply.

Tifa finally looked up from the man currently residing on her thighs, her dark chocolate gaze washing over his beaten form. “You don’t look so good, Cid,” she stated, her feathery voice weighted down by concern.

“Gee, ya think so?” he snapped quickly, hoping his standoffish attitude would dissuade her, but his voice lacked the searing heat of a true Cid Highwind-worthy retort. He couldn’t really stay angry with Tifa for that long, anyway. She was as sweet as a button. When he first met her, after admiring her more physical qualities like all men before him, he thought that she couldn’t hurt a fly. Which is why it surprised the hell out of him that she was a martial artist, and moreover, one trained by Zangan. From that moment on, he made a point to not to get on her bad side; for fear that he’d end up as a pretzel.

Cloud lived a dangerous life, snuggling up to Tifa like he did. But, then, he always did think Spike was a few cans short of a six-pack.

He blinked, snapping back to reality. “Ya may be right, Teef,” he mumbled, furrowing his brows. The blond pilot gingerly brought his hand to his side, brushing away the remnants of his coat to get a clear view of just how bad the damage was. His eyes washed over the sopping wet scarf, noting with a frown that his entire left side was now smeared with sticky, warm blood.

And it was only going to get worse.

Tifa winced, her dark eyes narrowing in pain and sympathy for him. “That looks really bad,” she stated, unable to keep the revulsion out of her voice.

He harrumphed darkly, which quickly morphed into a drawn out hack. “It started out bad,” he replied matter-of-factly, his voice strained, scratching painfully at the back of his throat. For the lack of anything better to do, his smoky blue eyes zeroed in on the crimson-soaked cloth. He watched with a sort of morbid curiosity as the dark ruby continually overtook the pale off-white, strand by tiny strand. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he continued to gaze at his wound, transfixed. So this is what dying was like…

“Cid?”

The pilot jumped minutely, the sharp pain causing him to refocus on reality. While he seemed simply annoyed by her interruption, inside he was becoming increasingly apprehensive. What the hell just happened? He couldn’t start zoning out; he had too much to do. And the last thing he needed was more blood on his hands. “Yeah, what is it?” he snapped, his jaw muscles rolling in sync with the continually more frequent spasms of pain.

The brunette merely stared at the long streaks of wet crimson that marked the side of his shirt and his soiled skin, her face still holding that look of abject disgust about it. He couldn’t say he blamed her. “I think it just went to worse,” she declared, finally tearing her eyes away from his wound, staring down at the semi-coherent Cloud. “And, I don’t want to think of what comes after it,” she muttered quietly.

Cid snorted again, fighting back the grunt of pain that the slight movement brought with it. “Ain’t nothin’ good, that’s for damn sure.” Refusing to look at the bleeding gash on his side again, he brought his gaze to the blanket of darkness around him. Even with his Shinra training, it was impossible to actually tell where they were. Since they’d set out, the only distinguishing mark he’d managed to find was that the three of them was now trudging thigh-deep in grass.

If it weren’t for the fact that he was currently bleeding to death, he would have probably enjoyed the scenery.

Sighing tiredly, he closed his eyes for a second.

The next thing he knew he was lying on the ground, with Tifa’s face hovering above him, concern etched on her pale features. The pilot blinked blearily, his chiseled lip twitching. Her hair was also tickling his face. “Cid?” she asked quietly, her voice hopeful. “Cid, can you hear me?”

“I ain’t deaf,” he grunted, painfully rising to a sitting position. “How long was I out?”

She shrugged uncertainly, frowning. “Five, ten minutes, maybe.” Her bruised shoulders rose and fell in a resigned sigh. “Cid, you can’t keep going like this for much longer.”

The pilot scowled deeply, partly from the pain, and partly from her nagging. He was stubborn, and often refused help from others, but it had just become all too clear to him that he was going from worse to disastrous. If he didn’t get medical attention soon, he was wasn’t going to be able to make to Kalm at all. “I know that,” he hissed lowly, fighting back a wave of nausea. “I ain’t stupid, either.”

Her eyes dimmed momentarily, falling silent. “We shouldn’t worry, though,” she offered, her voice somewhat hopeful. “Yuffie said she’d backtrack and give us whatever supplies we need.”

The blond held back the swell of hatred for the petite ninja. He probably shouldn’t have trusted her, especially not with his life. But, what choice did he have? “Damn well better,” he grumbled, more to himself than to his companion feet away from him. “I ain’t got no other choice, now.”

Tifa blinked, furrowing her thin brows in determination. Sucking in a deep breath, she sat up straighter, crossing her sliced arms across her torn and dirtied tank top. “I could go to Kalm, you know. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”

“Nah,” he huffed immediately, shaking his head. “Ain’t worth it. Plus, what if Spike suddenly decided to wake his scrawny ass up and follow ya? I’d probably have to listen to his crap about how he ‘couldn’t believe I let her go by herself,’ or whatever bullshit he usually spouts when he’s worried ‘bout ya.”

Tifa’s arms fell from her chest, startled. “He’d really say that?”

Cid nodded slowly, watching with some amount of amusement as her pale cheeks turned a healthy beet red from embarrassment. “Oh yeah,” he replied, smirking, “for all his crossed wires, Spike here can’t stand to watch ya do stuff on your own that could get ya killed.” He paused for a moment, his smoky eyes falling to semi-conscious leader of their troupe. “But, to defend the ol’ mother hen, I can’t blame him.”

Her thin eyebrow rose in curiosity, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh? And is that because you men think I’m not capable of doing anything on my own?”

He snorted at the thought, smacking his lips for a moment as if he had a cigarette in his mouth. Damn, he needed one. “If I’da thought that, I would’ve straight out told ya, and you know that.” She grudgingly nodded in agreement. For the first time in what felt like ages, he smirked deviously. “’Sides, ya could whoop my ass in no time flat. Ain’t no way I’d wanna get on yer bad side by sayin’ yes.”

Tifa chuckled heartily, the sound echoing in the silence of the plains. Cid had to admit, when watching her youthful face light up in excitement, or noticing her concern for everyone around her, Cloud had picked a damn good woman. God, he felt old. Now, if either of them could just act on that…

For the second time tonight, it seemed as if Cloud had read his thoughts. Sluggishly, the lanky mercenary rolled onto his side, his bright azure eyes half-closed and glazed over. He looked like hell. Cid wondered if he looked quite as bad. “Mornin’ Spike,” he echoed dryly. “Have a nice n—“

Almost too quick for his eyes to follow, the ex-SOLDIER snapped awake, his eyes wide and alert, and rolled to his knees. “…You hear that?” he ground out, his voice thick with fatigue.

He furrowed his brows, straining his ears to listen to the silent spring evening. “Hear wh—“

His mouth snapped shut, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. The soft sound of crunching grass wafted through the cool winds. And, from the sounds of it, whoever or whatever was responsible for it was a lot bigger than Yuffie.

A part of Cid was jealous of the spikey-haired soldier; he just woke up from a half-dead stupor, and he was still more alert than he was. He shoved the thought out of his head as he slowly made his way to his feet, his blood-caked glove clumsily grasping the metal shaft of his hand-made spear, having lost the Venus Gospel—and every other weapon he owned—in the mountain of metal debris.

Under normal circumstances, the monsters in this area posed no threat to him, or anyone else on their team, having grown too strong and fast for the dog-like creatures to even lay a scratch on them before they were beheaded. These circumstances, however, were far from normal. His dark blue eyes shot over to Tifa for an instant, gauging her health condition. She could probably hold her own—not to mention theirs—but he wasn’t about to let her go into the fight alone.

Forcing the exhaustion from his body by sheer will alone, the gruff pilot stood in a defensive stance, his smoky eyes darting from point to point, scanning the darkness intently for the cause of the quiet sound. Whatever it was must have become aware that others were around, because the only noise Cid heard was the rapid thumping of his heart in his chest.

He caught the remnants of a lithe shadow dashing to his left, before it melted back into the suffocating blackness that seemed to clutch to his very clothing. Suppressing the urge to swear, he desperately tried to zero in on its location again, using every bit of military and instinctual knowledge at his disposal.

And he was getting nowhere fast.

He glanced over to Cloud, his shoulder hunched forward slightly in weariness as he stood with his fists in the air. The blond took a moment to wonder if he was as good in hand-to-hand combat as he was with his sword. He doubted it.

Cid noted his posture and what he could see of his facial expression, figuring that Spike hadn’t caught sight of their stalker. He peeked at the buxom martial artist standing shoulder to shoulder with Cloud, noticing that her deep brown eyes were also scanning the area around them wildly, almost desperately.

“There!” Tifa stated, whirling around. “I just saw it!”

Cloud repeated the gesture, although he didn’t do it nearly as gracefully. “Where? I don’t see it.”

Cid grimaced, casting a quick look over his shoulder, seeing only oppressive darkness. He was starting to feel very claustrophobic for some reason. Barely a second had passed before he spotted something moving in the night, before it whispered back into the shadows. “Damn, this thing’s faster than hell,” he muttered, annoyed at his own sluggishness, and at the shadow’s persistence to remind him of it.

It was then that he came to a startling conclusion, blinking in surprise. “Ain’t no monster ‘round here’s this goddamn fast,” he declared flatly. “Or this quiet.”

He didn’t have to see the lanky blond to know he was frowning in confusion. “If it’s not a monster, then what is it?” he hissed quietly, his impatience evident.

The pilot’s jaw tightened in determination, ready for a fight, and his injuries be damned. “Ain’t nothin’ good,” he growled, a fire sparking in his smoky blue eyes, “and that’s for damn sure.”

–There ya go!–

Okay that group seriuosly look like they need some help, they had better get it soon, or their done for, before they’ve even gone anywhere!!

Anyway great story, and keep it coming SilverKnight!!:smiley:

Oooh, cliffhangers :slight_smile: Mwahaha… looking good, Silver!

Keep it coming!! I like it!:smiley:

grabs a pillow and hides under it Jeez, I’ve been doing a lot of hiding lately… Still, I agree, 'tis a wondrous story.

–Sorry about the delay. I was battling a stinkin’ head cold for the past few days, so I really wasn’t in the state of mind to be making updates. Unless of course you wanted to be reading mindless jibberish. >thinks< Oh. Nevermind. :)–

[i]Hero of the Day


“Crack of dawn, all is gone except the will to be…
…Now they will see what will be, blinded eyes to see.”

–Metallica, “For Whom the Bell Tolls”[/i]


Part VII


The Turks had been having a bad day.

Elena tripped over her feet for the seventh time in ten minutes. It was starting to become extremely annoying. Scowling, she came to a halt, hastily pulling off her sleek black high-heeled boots, chucking them off into the darkness with overdue glee.

And that was the highlight of her day.

The petite blonde shuddered as she thought back to where she stood a mere twenty-four hours prior. She and her comrades were standing in the middle of the slums of Midgar, as it was quite literally being ripped apart around their very feet. She was a Turk; she’d been used to being put in dangerous situations, but dodging jagged pieces of shrapnel the size of a car and trying to find some sort of cover, all while fighting not to be sucked up by the harsh tornados of fire was beyond anything she’d ever been trained for. If Reno and Rude hadn’t been there, she probably would’ve gone completely hysterical.

Then again, their attitude about the whole thing didn’t exactly help much, either.

“You guys wouldn’t have a drink, would you?” Reno shouted over the raging winds, hanging onto a bent lamppost, his blue jacket long since turned into ashes by the towering inferno that seemingly surrounded them.

Her jaw dropped, stray bits of dust and mortar flying into her open mouth. Spitting them out with a hack, she howled, “The city’s disintegrating around us, and you’re worried about your liquor supply?!”

He attempted to shrug, and nearly lost his grip on the buckling steel for his efforts. “Hey, if I’m gonna die,” he retorted, an almost psychotic lopsided grin on his face, “I at least wanna go down with a buzz!”

She shuddered again, shoving the thoughts out of her head. It was times like that that made her wonder why she ever trusted them at all.

The Turk twisted her head over her shoulder, past her torn white shirt, her bright blue eyes wandering aimlessly about the night that hovered around them. She’d always hated Midgar, for some reason. She couldn’t necessarily help it; she was used to more humane surroundings, spending most of her younger years living in the quiet country town of Kalm. Why her parents decided to move to a city with a reputation like Midgar, she’d never know. When she’d first arrived to the ‘big city’, it frightened her for a reason she couldn’t quite fathom.

The petite blonde soon found out she was right to fear it.

Her small family hadn’t even been there three weeks when they were robbed blind, beaten, and left to rot in their run down house. Luckily, though, a nearby police officer was nice enough to at least cordon their tiny little home off before any stray rapist from the slums could get a hold of her. That incident led the wiry teen to go to regular self-defense classes. Which led her to meeting Tseng, a sort of apprentice to the instructor. She never learned anything beyond that about their relationship, and after accompanying Tseng on one of his hits, the lithe woman never wanted to again.

The next few years passed as a blur of pain, despair, and frustration. She knew her parents died somehow, somewhere, but for the life of her, Elena couldn’t pinpoint the specifics. The next thing in her life she clearly remembered was begging Tseng to become a Turk; again, the true reason escaping her at the moment.

She blinked wearily, convincing herself that her sudden apathy for everything that should have mattered to her was due to exhaustion.

“Hey, Elena, stop dragging your feet and get up here,” Reno murmured huskily, his long red mane disheveled and matted down.

Frowning, she tiredly stomped up next to the tall Turk, earning a scowl in her direction. “What? What’d I do now?”

“Could you walk a little quieter?” he hissed, his azure eyes narrowed in barely-concealed contempt. “I thought heard something.”

“So?” she squawked, her frown degenerating into a scowl.

“Could be people,” he replied quickly, his bright blue eyes scanning the darkness. “We can get food easily enough; most of the monsters around here are easy enough to kill and cook. It’s water we have to worry about.”

She harrumphed in bitter amusement, her blonde brow quirking up slightly. “And here I thought you lived on liquor.”

He glowered down at her, his sculpted face strangely serious. “I’m not joking Elena. We can’t go on for much longer without some sort of water supply.” He paused, licking his dry lips. “And, besides, I need a drink,” he muttered, his eyes glazed over.

The Turk rolled her eyes at his far-off expression; no doubt he was imagining the joy of getting piss drunk in some dive off the coast of Junon. She wouldn’t have been surprised; the whole area was littered with them. Then again, when she actually looked at the city, she couldn’t blame them. Damn Reno for mentioning water; now all she could think about was how long it had been since she’d drank anything.

“Elena,” he huffed, “you’re zoning.”

Elena blinked, forcing herself back to reality. “Uh, sorry, Reno,” she answered hastily, covering her embarrassment by clearing her dry throat. “So, where to?”

Reno’s face twisted in thought for a moment, his fatigue becoming evident for barely a second. She quickly had to remind herself that he’d been up for over a day and a half, too. “Well,” he spoke; his tone hushed, “the marshlands have plenty of fresh water—“

She turned up her lips in disgust. “Marsh water? Ew!”

He stared at her, his expression blank. “Don’t knock marsh water; it’s a lot cleaner than you think. Marshes act as a sort of natural filter, so the water you’ll find there will probably be some of the purest water you can find.” The redhead shrugged impishly. “Outside of a water bottle, anyway.”

She actually found herself surprised at Reno; the only thing she thought he knew was how to get drunk.

He sighed heavily, digging his hands into his pockets. “Problem with that is, the marsh is a long walk from here, and we need some now.”

For the first time since they’d managed to escape the hell that was Midgar, Rude spoke up. “The sounds,” he whispered, nodding his bald head forward slightly, his unusually pale eyes focused on an unseen point in the blanket of darkness. “There’s someone nearby.”

Reno grinned happily, patting the slightly taller Turk on the head appreciatively, although the latter didn’t seem to think the same way. “Ah, Rude, my main man,” he chuckled happily, his eyes searching the darkness. “I always said you had ears like a bat.”

Rude sighed tiredly, his face suddenly appearing worn and haggard. “Great,” he replied unenthusiastically under his breath, lines forming around his frowning lips. Elena had never seen the man look so old before. She shook her head, telling herself he was just tired like she was.

Blinking out the sudden heaviness in her eyes, she pressed her lips into a thin line, eyeing her leader skeptically. “Okay, so what do you want us to do?”

He frowned in thought, his perfectly sculpted red brows furrowing in effort to get his energy-depleted brain to work in the fashion he wanted. From her point of view, it looked like he was so far unsuccessful. No surprise there.

She opened her mouth, hopefully to offer something of use, when she noted that both Reno and Rude’s body went rigid, their eyes focused directly over her shoulders. Her mouth snapped shut, gulping in anxiety. She knew that nothing good could possibly be behind her, judging from her partners’ wide-eyed, almost fearful look on their paled faces. Against her better judgment, she shifted her weight and began to turn around.

Then she felt the hot, steamy breath on the back of her neck, followed closely by a low, menacing growl.

Elena gulped again.

Nothing good. Nothing good at all.

Her eyes wide as saucers, she glared silently at Reno. His cerulean eyes darted between her and whatever was behind her wildly, his boyish features twisted in indecision. The moment passed quickly, though, and his face once again became impassive as he shrugged at her, smirking weakly.

Elena’s eyes, if possible, became wider, gaping at him incredulously. The thing behind her huffed in impatience, a plume of scorching air pelting her neck, her cropped blonde her swiping angrily at her chin. Despite herself, she began trembling at the foreboding presence behind her, closing her eyes from the fear and nausea it brought with it. Her breathing became shallow, quick, her heart racing in her chest.

She wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but she felt it loom closer to the nape of her neck, as if testing her resolve, to see if she were to suddenly dart off and run. Even though she wanted to run, dash as far away from this nightmare of an existence as possible, she was rooted in place, unable to even do the simplest—and the most prudent—of things; check her holster for any weapon.

Straining her senses, the blonde tried to will herself to see this creature that was behind her, just to know entirely what she was facing. (Or, not facing, as the case may have been.) Judging from the angle at which the breath hit her neck, the monster was definitely taller than her, and by a good foot, at least. Without her authorization, her imagination immediately took over, her mind’s eye making it to out to be a behemoth of a monster; complete with glowing red eyes, long, curling horns, and blood-stained fangs.

She heard a heavy sniffing, a gust of cold air brushing against the reddened skin of her neck, a chill running down the length of her spine. The situation was quickly becoming too intense to take; her finely honed senses were now on overload, her body visibly quaking with unbidden terror as she kept her eyes steadfastly closed. She wanted to scream, run around like a maniac, do anything but stand there and wait for some monster to decide whether it was going to make her dinner or not.

It exhaled one last time, shivering slightly in response, before its terrorizing presence disappeared altogether. The strangely distant echo of grass crunching beneath its large, heavy foot wafted through the silent night. Carefully, she strained her senses to their maximum, honing in on that single sound until all was quiet again.

“I think it’s gone,” Reno whispered, breaking the silence that seemingly reigned for so long in the darkness.

Slowly coming out of her self-induced state of shock, she opened her eyes to be greeted by a heavy blanket of darkness. Despite the fact that the blonde was aware of standing in the middle of a huge field, her heart continued to thump in her chest as the feeling of claustrophobia began to descend upon her. Shaking her head, her short hair swaying in her face, she took a deep breath, willing her body to stop shaking. “Well, that went well,” she muttered, her voice wavering from the fear that lingered in her veins.

Sluggishly, the outlines of Reno and Rude began to take shape amid the veil of night, much to her relief. That relief soon melted into annoyance, and then anger. Seething at the tall redhead, she stalked through the cool grass, stopping inches from him. “And, when exactly were you planning on helping me out?” she hissed, her eyes flaring. “I could’ve been killed, you know!”

The lanky Turk pursed his thin lips thoughtfully, nodding. “Yeah,” he replied, deadpan. “But, then, it didn’t really seem to be doing anything. I decided to wait until I was sure it was going to eat you.”

“Nice to see you were worried about me,” she retorted angrily, her manicured finger jabbing into the soft cloth of his shirt. “I would’ve been dead by then.”

Reno shook his head, forming a slight grin. “Hey, it’s nothing personal, Elena,” he stated dully. “It’s just a matter of priorities. Attacking it wouldn’t have been worth it the risk.”

Her sapphire eyes widened, stepping back as if she’d been slapped. Even though half of her wanted to throw him to the beast, Elena still struggled not to take offense to his comment, hoping against hope that there was a rational reason for his rudeness. “Oh?” she questioned, feigning disinterest in his answer.

“Yeah,” he stated, sounding non-plussed. “I couldn’t have gone after you without provoking it, and then you would’ve been dead for sure.” He glared down at her, suddenly appearing much taller than normal. “So, don’t go flying off the handle for no reason.”

She bared her teeth in rage. “No reason?! Reno—“

Her comment died in her throat when a fearsome howl shattered the overwhelming silence, an all too familiar chill running up her spine. The control she was holding over her lithe body vanished, and her limbs once again shook in primal fear.

The lanky redhead noticed her reaction, and smirked halfheartedly. “Don’t worry, Elena,” he chided, “I don’t think it’s coming back for you.” His light eyes rose to a point somewhere in the darkness, his face disinterested as the strangled cries and startled orders echoed across the plains. “Looks like whatever it was just found a new meal.”

The lithe woman stared on as Reno turned his back on her, idly strolling away. For a split second, she was shocked at his blatant callousness, before reminding herself of his ‘I don’t give a shit’ mantra. The sounds of battle were carried through the slight wind, reaching her ears in a sickening cacophony of fear and determination. Despite the fact that was trained as an assassin, Elena was torn. She wanted to believe that there was a part of her that had managed to remain human, and that diminishing voice told her to help the others in danger, to hell with the risks.

“Don’t even think about it,” Reno chastised impassively, without breaking his pace. “The only thing you’ll do is get yourself killed.”

She pressed her rose lips into a thin line, sighing dejectedly as the voice was instantly squelched into silence. The redhead was right, as always. In the end, it all boiled down to what they could do to survive. And, risking life and limb with nothing to gain most definitely wasn’t worth it.

Another shriek split through the night, followed by a roar of anger. She shuddered again, glancing momentarily at Rude, whom hadn’t moved since the creature first appeared behind her.

Then, she watched with increasingly wide eyes as he darted off behind her, towards the raging battle. “Rude!” she exclaimed, more out of shock than to get his attention. Out of the corner of her eye, the Turk noticed as Reno whipped around in surprise, his lips curling down unnaturally into a frown.

Frowning herself, she decided to give chase, forcing her cold and half-numb legs to move her body into the impossibly thick darkness. Ignoring the fact that her lanky superior was ordering her to stop, she raced on after Rude, determined to see that he wasn’t going to get himself killed. After all, Turks looked out for each other. She closed in on his position, shadows and silhouettes forming with increasing clarity as she neared.

Elena stopped in her tracks, her eyes riveted on one mammoth form. “My God.”

Her imagination didn’t do a bad job, she reasoned as her assassin skills instantly took over. It was a huge, hulking beast, over six feet tall on all fours. Its legs were long and thick, but weren’t bulky enough to get in the way. It had tiny ridges over its spine, trailing down its back and diminishing to nothing at the end of its long, bulb-shaped tail. It almost reminded her of the mutt that AVALANCHE hung out with, but larger and way more deadly looking.

The monster’s face appeared slightly shrunken in comparison to the stature of the rest of its body, its large horn-like ears flattened against its head, but the lion-like snout and overhanging brow gave it the appearance of an ancient predator, long since vanished from the plant. There was no doubt in her mind; this thing was strong.

The predator shifted its weight, lowering its body closer to the ground, poised to strike. Suddenly, its eyes then darted in her direction, glinting dangerously in the minimal light. Almost wistfully, it sniffed in the biting night air, still glaring at her.

“Elena,” Reno growled lowly, his gaze shifting warily between her and the overgrown dog, “what the hell are you looking at?”

She shook her head absent-mindedly, rooted in place. “There’s something…strange about its eyes—” Suddenly, her back went ramrod straight, her bright blue eyes fixated on the glimmering eyes before her. “This thing’s more than strong,” she stated, not bothering to keep the shock from her voice, “it’s intelligent.”

It snarled at her, growling lowly.

“Uh, I don’t think it appreciated that, Elena,” Reno said, the sarcasm in his voice strangely muted.

Somehow, the blonde doubted that. It had every opportunity to rip her to shreds in the past ten minutes, and yet it didn’t move from its spot. It seemed more focused on trying to scare her rather than harming her. Her lips curled unnaturally for a moment. The beast even looked like it was enjoying

Elena blinked, her entire body going rigid. It wasn’t snarling, she realized, a cold, aching horror slowly gnawing at her bones.

It was smiling.

–There ya go!–

No stress Silver, don’t press yourself if you’re not feeling well. It’s looking good, as always :slight_smile:

–>cuts to the chase<–

A thousand thoughts whirred through the pain-addled mind of Cloud Strife.

The first of which was, how the hell could something that big possibly be so quiet?

It came quite literally out of nowhere, charging towards him with eerily familiar eyes, wide with what he could only have assumed was animal fury. “Over here! Flank me!” he ordered quickly, sparing one precious second to glance behind him. Without thought, he struck out with his gloved fist, attempting to slow the beast down while Cid and Tifa closed in on his position. It slammed right into the beast’s wide nose, a slight crunching noise echoing through the otherwise still night.

It jumped back a few feet, howling in pain, a sort of shock on his furred face. It looked as if, for all its intent to cause harm, it was about to turn tail and run. He hid his satisfaction. However, the animal snorted quickly and met his eyes, whatever fury he thought he’d seen earlier replaced with something far worse.

He didn’t bother hiding his frown. The only thing he actually achieved in doing, it seemed, was pissing it off.

It huffed angrily, leaping forward with a cat-like grace that didn’t suit its large size. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve even been able to track its movement, maybe even dodge out of the way a dazzling display of his skills. But, in his current condition, the only thing the spiky-haired mercenary witnessed was a blur that materialized directly to his right, a fearsome snarl upon its face. In the split second that the monster stayed still, he caught a glance at its expression, his frown deepening. Yup, he definitely pissed it off.

Without so much as a grunt of effort, the creature batted its head in his direction, harmlessly swatting him away like a fly into the tall grass. He landed with a dull thud, his entire back on fire, moaning lowly in his throat. Dragging himself to his feet, the scrawny blond glowered at the blanketing darkness.

Cursing silently for losing their position, he strained his ears, hearing noises to his immediate right. Pivoting towards the sounds, he hid his surprise when his Mako-tinted eyes caught sight of a clearly fatigued Cid Highwind charging forward with his miraculously intact spear in hand mere yards from where he stood. Seconds later, he watched as the gruff pilot was tossed away like a rag doll, his spear being the ironic tool of choice the beast chose to use in doing so.

Concerned for the injured man, he took a step forward, but was halted when he’d heard Cid’s heated swearing. Cloud smirked faintly, projecting his enhanced vision back upon where the monster last stood, it—not surprisingly—being nowhere in sight.

And, upon closer inspection, neither was Tifa.

Sighing, he shook the sudden fear from his psyche in disgust. It was almost impossible to see, he told himself. Besides, she was the only out of the three that hadn’t been severely injured in the crash, so she could certainly take care of herself.

But against something like that? On her own?

He started off towards Cid, and was surprised for the second time in less than a minute—something he was not happy with at all, a part of him noted—Tifa melting from the shadows. “Down!” she ordered frantically, diving on top of him with what felt like all the weight she could muster. Slamming into the cold ground with much more force that he would have liked, he stifled the groan of pain as his childhood friend shifted to cover him with her own body.

If this had been almost any other moment in his adult life, he would’ve given anything for her—or any woman with a body like hers, for that matter, but he wouldn’t have dared said that to Tifa—to clamber on top of him the way she was doing. But, he noted with more than a bit of bitter amusement, she was doing it to save his life, all because some idiotic monster with a bad case of gingivitis wanted to bear a bunch of really nasty looking claws and slice her back into bite-size morsels—

He blinked in shock, and growled to himself. He couldn’t start zoning out now, not when so much was at stake—

The heavy paw slashed down.

Tifa shrieked in pain, and from the sudden clenching of every muscle that was touching his body, she was hiding more pain than she was showing.

He blinked, reality slapping him squarely in the jaw. Hard.

Then he saw red.

He didn’t notice the creature’s sudden movement backward, its tail curled inward in a look reminiscent of remorse. But, he did note the creature’s sudden lack of any defensive stance, and took his chance. Without wondering how or when Cid had gotten next to him, he wrenched the homemade weapon from his gloved fingers, roaring in fury as he barreled forward with all the strength his weakened legs could possibly give him.

Angrily, he swung the steel spear in a wide arc, hoping the sharp point would gouge out one of its eyes. The monster saw his wild attack and countered, catching the scarred metal shaft in its powerful jaws, tugging it mercilessly from his hand and hurling it off into the night. The movement caught Cloud off guard, and he tumbled to the ground painfully, skidding to a halt on his skewered back.

The mercenary clumsily rose to his feet, snarling audibly. The monster perched itself on its front legs, opening its giant maw and roared, the fur on its long neck sticking straight up. For a split second, he was frozen in place, a tendril of strange recognition curling its way through his mind. It had the cat-like grace of a lion, but the hackles and canines of a dog…

He shook the sensation off, preparing to charge when a blur detached itself from the velvety darkness, slamming into the beast with enough force to snap its head sideways. The shadow gracefully bounded away from its still open mouth, landing mere feet away from him. His Mako-enhanced eyes traveled over the silhouette, slowly recognizing its tall, lanky figure, and large, bald head. “Rude?” he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. “How did you…?”

Shouts wafted through the night air, quick footsteps coming to a halt across from the monster, which was now facing away from him and his bald companion. He instantly recognized the features as belonging to Elena, the newest—and ditziest—member of the Turks. No doubt, the other pair of footsteps he heard tromping through the grass belonged to the leader, Reno. He snorted, shaking his head in amazement. The last he saw them, they were stuck in Midgar as Meteor began to enter the atmosphere. Yet, they were still alive, and looking in better shape than any of AVALANCHE.

What the hell did it take to kill those guys?

The blond huffed angrily, clenching his fists. He was zoning out again. And, apparently, he’d missed part of a conversation.

“…It’s intelligent,” Elena said, shocked.

The beast growled; its eyes focused keenly on her. Narrowing his eyes, he fruitlessly scanned the area for any sign of Cid’s spear.

“Uh, I don’t think it appreciated that, Elena,” he heard Reno reply, sounding slightly unnerved.

Cloud scowled darkly, deciding to just attack it now while its attention was drawn elsewhere. Luckily, Rude made no move to stop, instead focusing on the commotion in front of them.

“It’s smiling!” Elena exclaimed, her voice hovering between awe and horror.

He bent his knees slightly, poising his body to strike—

Faster than his eye could travel, the monstrous creature howled in delight as it launched itself away from them, landing and circling around gracefully. It hopped twice more, the strange grin still on its furred face. Cloud froze in place, watching the animal prance around happily as if it were a dog playing catch.

He blinked, his jaw slack.

“What the hell did I miss?” Cid snapped roughly, speaking for everyone.

“You got me,” Reno replied, dumbfounded.

The beast hopped again, raising and shaking its head in the air. Seeing that no one was moving, it scampered over to Elena, quickly clamping down on her white blouse, and tugged her forward.

Reno chuckled lightly, a smirk upon his face. “Looks like you made a friend, Elena.”

She didn’t share in his mirth. “Great,” she muttered darkly, begrudgingly snatching her arm back to her side, at the cost of her sleeve. Snarling loudly, the Turk began to follow the towering creature, which was already several feet ahead of her and still smiling. Belatedly, Rude and Reno followed, exchanging amused looks with each other.

Cloud blinked again, snapping out of his flabbergasted stupor. He noticed Cid rise to his feet shakily, frowning down into the tall grass which surrounded them.

Tifa was injured.

The lanky mercenary swore, hiking over next to her. Kneeling down next to her, he touched her shoulder lightly, noticing that Cid’s tattered flight jacket was now wrapped underneath her. Frowning, he glanced up to the crabby pilot, his pallid face easily betraying the man’s failing condition. They needed to get to Kalm, and the sooner, the better.

Rising to his feet, he met the blond’s gaze. “Stay with her,” he ordered, turning on his heel and starting off. He stopped several feet later and swore again, straining his sensitive ears to hear the telltale signs of movement before he wound up getting himself lost. Usually this wouldn’t have been an issue, but he’d only minutes ago awakened, and in the middle of nowhere, at that. The last thing he wanted to do was screw himself worse than he already was.

He frowned. He was spending too much time around Cid.

Belatedly, his ears pricked up at the sounds of a heated argument. Or, rather, a heated one-sided screaming session. Judging by the shrillness and intensity, it was most likely Elena. Either that, or Rude had a very feminine voice. Cloud shook his head, tearing himself away from his rambling thoughts as he trotted forward into the night to catch up with the Turks.

“C’mon Elena,” he heard Reno say, “it was funny.”

“It was not!” she retorted angrily, her voice a full octave above her normal voice. “I’ve never seen you dragged around by some overgrown dog!”

The beast growled dejectedly.

“No offense,” she muttered quickly.

Coming to a halt behind the blonde, he peeked over her shoulder, his enhanced eyes slicing through the night to the source of the creature’s excitement. Four people lie among the grass, their bodies huddled together and unmoving. From the stench that mingled with the sweet scent of nature, the mercenary guessed they’d been dead for around a day. “They were from uptown Midgar,” he stated blandly.

The others stopped, turning to face him. “What?” Elena squawked, furrowing her brows. “How can you tell that?”

He pushed past her, kneeling down to the carcasses, a sneer twisting his face. “Good quality tailoring,” he answered, tugging at the top body’s bloodied jacket. His eyes flitting downward, he caught sight of a large knapsack, and hastily pulled it free. “Leather knapsack,” he continued, inspecting it carefully. “Something like this would cost thousands of gil. No slummer could have possibly gotten this; legally, anyway.” Unhooking the intricate silver clasp, he looked inside to see its contents.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, digging his hand in. “I see why your friend brought us here, Elena,” Cloud said, clasping a large water bottle and handing it to the Turk next to him.

Elena frowned, snatching the bottle away. “It’s not my friend,” she hissed, unscrewing the cap. The furred creature growled again, its furred head bowing down. “No offense,” she mumbled, taking a long drink.

Handing the bag to Elena as well, he pulled the first body down, patting him down for any valuables. “Reno, Rude, check the others in case they have anything of use.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you as a grave-robber,” Reno stated sourly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Do you see a grave here?” Cloud retorted, searching the man’s sleeves.

“Damn, Strife,” the redhead huffed, “you’re a callous bastard when you want to be.”

The blond snorted in response, plucking out a small flashlight from the dead man’s jacket pocket. “It’s a little late to become self-righteous, Reno,” he answered, inspecting the man’s pockets. “Besides, you’re acting like you’ve never done it before.” He glimpsed to his side, noting that Rude was already checking a young woman’s purse. At least someone was helping. He wasn’t sure whether or not to be happy.

“I haven’t,” Reno snapped, his light eyes flaring up like kindling. “At least…when I wasn’t ordered to.” He turned, calmly sauntering away. “And you can’t give me any incentive to, either.”

Out the corner of his eye, he noted Elena had discarded the leather sack, yelling for Cid and Tifa to come over. He saw the white box in her hand, and immediately knew why. He hid the grin; she was going to have fun treating Cid’s wounds. Sighing, he propped his arms on his knees, twisting to face Reno. “I’ll make you richer than God.”

He stopped, casting a quarter-glance over his narrow shoulder, his eyebrow arched in interest. “I’m listening.”

The spiky-haired soldier hid his smirk. “I thought you would.” Ignoring the pain of his back, he stood, casually pivoting on his boot and starting over towards the taller Turk. “I’m willing to pay,” he stated simply, his hand moving to the wallet full of money hidden in his belt, “if you’re willing to help me when I ask.”

“Ten thousand per job,” Reno said, turning fully around and crossing his arms.

Cloud’s lip curled unnaturally, giving the lanky man a sour look. “I said I’m willing, Reno, not easy.” Pausing, he pursed his lips in thought. “I’ll pay you according to the difficulty of each assignment.”

“Fine. Eight thousand minimum,” Reno proposed, his face impassive.

The mercenary’s face became stern, his eyes narrowing. “Two thousand.”

The redhead harrumphed indignantly, his arms falling to his sides. “Oh please, that wouldn’t even pay some of my bar tabs.”

“Then whose fault is that?” he demanded, his face hardening in annoyance.

The lanky Turk slipped his calloused hands into his pockets, sighing deeply. “Alright, alright…six thousand.”

He shook his head curtly, standing his ground. “Four thousand.”

Reno raised his chin slightly, jutting it out defiantly. “Five thousand.”

“Deal.” Cloud’s lips tugged up into a tight grin, and quickly held out his hand. Reno accepted the handshake, a smile upon his own pale face.

“For each of us,” the Turk added.

He yanked his hand back, turning on his heel. “Too late.”

The taller Turk huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine; then we won’t help you.”

Cloud shrugged, kneeling back down towards the body. “Then you won’t get paid.” He paused, his Mako-blue eyes flitting over his bare shoulder. “Your choice.”

“Damn,” Reno muttered to himself. “Oh well, it was worth a shot.” Straightening, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, shivering slightly from the icy winds. “I’m still not helping you pick through those bodies like some vulture, though.”

He harrumphed, looking flatly at the corpse. Contrary to what Reno was insinuating he didn’t enjoy ‘picking through bodies like some vulture’. In fact, he was somewhat disgusted with himself for it. But, pragmatism won out over his conscience, and he forced back his revulsion to search for anything that could be of use while they were out there.

Peeking behind him, he saw Reno nodding to himself, his aquamarine eyes dancing with greed. “How do I get in touch with you guys?” the blond asked suddenly, moving towards the next body, a young man no older than he.

His head popped up, his daydream interrupted. “Huh? Oh,” he quickly pulled out a small rectangular object, “I have my cell.”

Cloud knitted his brows. “Cell phone’s still work? Midgar was destroyed, though.”

“Yeah,” Reno replied absent-mindedly, twirling the silver phone in his fingers, “but most of the satellite uplinks were run through Junon.”

“I assumed most of the satellites were destroyed, though,” he replied, turning his attention back to the body before him. “Meteor was pretty big.”

“Some were destroyed, but not all of them,” Reno answered, tapping the phone flat against his palm. “It would be near impossible to send a link from here to, say, Gold Saucer, but as long as we’re on the same continent, we should be able to get a signal.”

He blinked, his face etched in surprise. He didn’t know Reno was…well, smart. The Turk caught the look, and hurriedly shrugged, clearing his throat. “At least, that’s what I think Tseng was trying to explain to me.”

He paused for a split second, quickly patting his pants for the location of his PHS, disheartened to realize it was no longer inside his pocket. “I lost my PHS,” he voiced, his shoulders slumping. “It probably was destroyed in the crash.” Twisting his head over the blades of grass, he scanned the velvety blanket of night, his eyes coming to rest on Cid. “Cid, do you still have your PHS?”

“Nope,” he muttered groggily, snatching his arm away as Elena tried to grab it. “Got flattened.”

The lean ex-SOLDIER scowled, running his thickly gloved fingers through the stubbornly resistant locks of hair. “And Tifa didn’t have one. Great.”

Rude, for the first time since they’d met, spoke. “I’ll go,” he said impassively.

Everyone stopped, turning their gazes to him. “What?” Cloud asked, careful to keep the uncertainty out of his voice.

“I’ll go with you,” the Turk clarified, his strangely light eyes focused upon him. He squirmed slightly, Rude’s unwavering stare unnerving him.

“Why?” Reno demanded, sounding slightly betrayed. “Turks are supposed to stick together.”

“We’re not Turks anymore,” Rude retorted, his mask of ice breaking away to reveal the weariness of the man underneath it. “We have no reason to ‘stick together’.” His intense gaze fell upon Cloud again, and again, he felt his skin crawling at the attention. “I’m going with you.”

The redhead’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing as his lips twisted into a snarl. “Fine. Go with them.” His eyes flashed over to Elena, whom was just as certainly just as betrayed as Reno, but more silent in her reproach. “What about you, Elena? Are you going to ditch me too?”

Her eyes wildly darted about the scenery, going from Reno, to Rude, to Cloud, and back to Reno. Slowly, silently, she shook her head. “No,” she started, her voice wavering, “I’ll stay with you.”

With the closest thing to approval he’d ever seen on the Turk’s face, Reno nodded, his icy composure sliding back into place as he calmly strode over next to her. “Good.”

Shaking his head, Cloud went back to searching the poor dead soul in front of him. A gust of cold wind blew from the west, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. His clothing wasn’t exactly practical for a cool April night. Yet, the people lying in front of him had ample clothing and gear. With what they had on them, they should’ve at least survived until Chocobo Billy’s ranch, if not farther. Why did they die?

His glove brushed against something wet, and he looked down to see the source. Bringing his hand out from under the young man’s body, he found it was covered with a watery substance, a strange sheen emanating from it even though there was little light to reflect upon it. He tensed his muscles, and swiftly moved his fingers to pry the corpse’s eyes open, savagely hiding his nausea at the permeating stench.

The man’s eyes were an unearthly shade of green.

“Mako-poisoning,” he whispered, cringing. Haltingly, he stood, stepping away from the body, his hands clenched into fists. “That’s enough, Rude,” he said simply.

Surprisingly, Rude obeyed, pushing himself away from the last corpse and standing. Elena, whom was still in the process of getting Cid to sit down, turned to him, her eyes wide with confusion. “Huh? How could they die of Mako-poisoning all the way out here?” she questioned as she all but dragged the somewhat dazed pilot to the ground.

“When Holy wasn’t enough to stop Meteor,” he began matter-of-factly, his eyes turning skyward, “the Lifrestream started coming up from the ground.”

Reno chuckled dryly as he picked up the clear plastic bottle, bringing it to his lips non-chalantly. “Sounds pretty cool.”

“Not really,” Cloud corrected blandly, sighing. “If you’d been out here when it happened, you most likely would’ve been caught by it.” His eyes slowly fell from the sky, staring blankly at the four people lying motionless in the tall grass. “Like they did.” His thin lips curled downward, a stab of pity welling from inside him. “They wouldn’t have died instantly…”

He shook his head to cover the shudder. He vividly remembered what it felt like to suffer from Mako-poisoning. Pain. Lots of it.

Ow!” Cid growled angrily, his voice slicing through the lingering memories. “Goddammit, woman, what the hell’re ya doin’ to me?!”

“I’m cleaning your wounds, you idiot,” Elena berated heatedly, struggling to hold him still while she applied a wet cloth over the unsightly gash on his side. “And if you actually used your brain, you’d see that. Now stop moving so I can stitch this up.”

“Ain’t no way in hell I’m lettin’ you sew me up!” he bellowed, his eyes going wide as he futilely tried to scamper to his feet. “I’d rather chew off my own arm!”

“Reno,” she huffed. “A little help?”

The lanky Turk quickly closed the distance between himself and Cid, gracelessly shoving the man’s shoulders into the ground. “Do it,” he ordered, his face emotionless.

Despite the fact that Cid was obviously not going anywhere, he still fought the Turk’s iron grip. The petite woman gritted her teeth in frustration as she held out the curved needle threateningly. “Cid, you better hold still before I stick this thing in your eye!”

Begrudgingly, the gruff pilot stopped moving, his jaw working in anger. “This better not hurt,” he muttered angrily.

Without a word, she inserted the needle.

–>continues to cut to the chase<–

Cid growled, his body tensing up as a frenzied line of obscenities flowed from his mouth as she continued to sew the bleeding red wound together.

Cloud watched for a moment, morbidly fascinated, before his eyes belatedly caught another woman lying at his feet. Turning, he saw Rude stand, a similar white kit clutched in his fingers. “Here,” he huffed, shoving the kit into his grasp.

“Uh, thanks,” he said awkwardly, kneeling down to the unconscious woman, gingerly pulling the blue fabric off of her back, watching with disgust as blood began to freely roll down her soft skin, soaking the tattered white cloth a deep red. A frown still adorning his otherwise flawless face, he opened the case up, plucking out the gauze and the antiseptic. Softly, he patted at her wounds, ignoring her body as it writhed from the sudden stinging.

As he grabbed a clean cloth from the sterile kit, his sharp eyes caught the mammoth silhouette of the creature that had brought all of this on. Warily, he continued to clean her wounds, careful to keep an eye on the furred monstrosity that stood mere feet from him. Slowly, it began to near him, its eyes locked upon the buxom woman that lie at his feet.

His eyes narrowing, the mercenary placed the cleaning agents on top of the kit, holding his blood-soaked gloves defensively in front of him. It crept forward slowly, stopping within arms reach of him. Preparing for anything, Cloud clenched his hands into fists, waiting for the monster to strike.

It bowed its head down, licking Tifa’s exposed shoulder once, and whimpered sadly.

He stared at the beast, partly surprised, and completely confused. “What, is that supposed to mean ‘I’m sorry’?” he asked the furred creature, frowning. It looked up at him, its large golden-flecked eyes filled with remorse. His frown deepened, determined not to go soft on it. “Are you trying to say you apologize?” It rumbled in its throat, closing its eyes. “I guess you want me to forgive you.”

It lowered his head, displaying its thickly furred crown. He was tempted to smack the thing, just because he was having a bad day and felt like taking it out on someone, but refrained. Instead, much to his shock, he raised his hand, patting it gruffly on the head twice. “Yeah, well, you’re forgiven.” It looked at him, cocking its head to the side slightly. “Her wounds aren’t very deep, and…I guess I did hit you first.” He sighed wearily, noting the creature’s confused look, realizing for the first time that it looked strangely like Red. “Look, the next time you want to get a person’s attention, don’t act like you’re about to kill them, alright?”

It huffed, shaking its head as if nodding. Its bright eyes then shot up to a point over his shoulder. Curious, he turned, watching as Cid shot up from the grass, holding his side tightly and backing away from the kneeling Turks.

“I didn’t finish taping up the gauze!” Elena exclaimed, holding the roll of white surgical tape in the air. Softly, the sound of Reno’s voice moaning what sounded like magical curses wafted through the chilled night air.

“It’s close enough!” he snarled, scruffily tucking his shirt back in. “Ya got a really crappy beside manner, ya know that?”

“I’ll have you know I have a very good bedside manner,” she chastised him, waving the needle back and forth tauntingly as she replaced it in the kit. She stood, gaping at the caked bloodstain that marred his shirt. “I just don’t like you.” Her dainty hand shot out, lightly swatting his side as she passed him.

He howled in pain, his face contorted in a mixture of agony and hellish fury. “You did that on purpose!” he seethed through clenched teeth, his cool eyes wide with rage.

She glanced over her shoulder, her lips quirked up into a devilish smirk. “Well, duh. Where have you been?”

The pilot began assaulting them with every obscenity he’d ever heard, and a few Cloud wasn’t sure were actual words but sounded close enough to the real thing. Sighing, he shook his head and returned to cleaning Tifa’s back. “You think he’s angry?” he asked sarcastically, his eyes flitting up in the direction of the creature’s face.

It sniffed, growling low in its throat. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he stated flatly, pulling out the gauze. “I feel like I’m playing charades with an overgrown dog.”

It growled, sniffing the air disdainfully.

He looked up, shrugging impishly. “No offense.”

–There ya go!–

Veryyyyy GoooooDDDD!!! I like it!