CLAUDIUS       But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son-- HAMLET       A little more than kin, and less than kind. CLAUDIUS       How is it that the clouds still hang on you? HAMLET       Not so, my lord, I am too much i'th' sun. Hamlet Act 1. Scene 2	Part Nine: Descent

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        "Where the bleeding fuck is Barret? What the hell do you mean he "won't come back"? What do you take us all for, a lotta gullible idiots?! You've killed 'im, haven't you? You have! Jus' like years ago, you've cut his throat or floated down outta the blue and stuck your sword through 'im, haven't you, Sephiroth?! Haven't you?!"
        Cid lunged forward, teeth bared, and it took both Reeve and Nanaki to hold him back. The Shinra President grunted and swore, doing his best to keep his friend's two tensed arms down while Nanaki stood in front and barred his legs, leaning heavily against him. Cid struggled, swearing blue fire, smoke rising from his cigarette like steam rising from his head. "I'll kill 'im! Whose side are you two on, huh?? Help me send 'im back to hell! Let go a me!"
        The HighWind's control room echoed with its master's cries. Sephiroth wished the incensed pilot would shut up, his shouts were giving him a headache. Cooly indifferent, the summoned General stood with crossed arms against a bulkhead and eyed the three before him quite stoicly.
        "Cid, c'mon, have some sense!" Reeve hollared, struggling to keep his friend sane, "You can't just go and attack him! How do we know he isn't telling the truth?!"
        "How do we know? How do we know?" Cid quit his fighting for a minute to stare Reeve in his eyes as though he'd gone absolutely insane, "If I have to answer that question, catman, than you're a bigger asshole than I thought! That's fucking Sephiroth! Seph-ee-roth! Murderer, madman, megalomaniacal lunatic! Killed Aeris, killed President Shinra, killed everything that wasn't nailed down thirteen years ago. . . I mean. . . come on here."
        "We're all aware, "Nanaki retorted, "But he's dead, that thing we fought. This is the Sephiroth of before, this is the General, before Jenova drove him mad and made him what we feared."
        "Well, "Sephiroth broke in, raising an eyebrow, "That's not entirely true."
        "I'm trying to make this simple for Cid, "Nanaki snapped irritably. Practically spitting in his fury, Cid kicked him in the ribs.
        "You don't need to "make it simple for me", you overgrown sack of cat shit! I understand exactly what that thing is. And that's why I'm upset! Barret summoned ya, yeah, fine, I'll believe that simply 'cause Marlene told us it was true. And fine, we appreciate the way you pulled Chaos off that Berk kid, very decent of ya, yadda yadda yadda. But what you were summoned to kill is dead now, we're all safe, relatively, and you've served your purpose. So now you skee-daddle back to the LifeStream and let Barret return. Now, dammit!"
        With a violent flailing of his arms, Cid broke free of Reeve, sending him flying back into a wall with a frustrated grunt, then leapt over Nanaki, landing squarely in front of the apathetic General. The two eyed eachother, one seething, the other with an expression as calm as an afternoon sky. "You bring Barret back. . . "Cid ordered in a low, dangerous tone, "Or I'll make you."
        Sephiroth cleared his throat, suppressing a sneer, then responded as tactfully as he could. "Mr. Highwind, I cannot leave yet. As I was attempting to explain before, I was not summoned to kill Chaos. Chaos stood in my way and thusly was disposed of, but he was not my true foe. Your comrade Mr. Wallace summoned me for a different reason. And I cannot leave until I've accomplished it."
        "Don't try that explanation crap on me, Captain Planet, "Cid began heatedly, "Your explanations don't mean crap to me, the entire fuckin' world's about run outta reason. None of this is makin' any sense. I mean, I mean, the fact that Barret summoned ya at all . . . just about floors me. Either for once in his life he's decided to trust somethin' related to Shinra, you namely, or he's finally gone off the deep end of cowardice and has decided to hide until all of this is done with, leaving you in his place. But that's besides the point. Barret needs to come back. We need him, as unwilling, as damned obnoxiously annoying as he is. We don't need you."
        Sephiroth smirked and leaned forward fearlessly into Cid's face. His breaths tickled the man's eyelashes. "The fact that you can't see how badly you need me is hilarious. Mr. Highwind."
        "Oh, you sonnuvabitch. . . " Grinning in fury and disbelief, Cid drew his arm back and slugged Sephiroth square in his proud jaw. One blow, one smack with a rockhard fist. With a little grunt, Sephiroth took it, stumbling to one side, eyes wide in surprise. When he'd straightened, he felt a line of red trickling from his nose and wiped it away, numbly, unable to do anything but stand there. The entire bridge was suddenly quiet, still, stifled. Nanaki took a step backwards, glancing to Reeve who could only gibber mindlessly, expecting armageddon. Cid had just jacked Sephiroth's jaw. Like, he. . . he'd just frigging sucker punched Sephiroth.
        "Ya wanna 'nother one?" Cid stepped forward, arm bent, fingers wriggling, trying to loosen up his knuckles, "All throughout that shit thirteen years ago, all I wanted was to get in a good ole fashioned brawl with you, god-boy. I figgered if I could do that, it was all you needed. A few smacks around with the ole Highwind fists and you'd snap right outta your insanity and that'd be that. It feels damned good to punch ya now. C'mon, then. Tell me ya wanna nother one. Please."
        Sephiroth straightened, wiping the blood from his nose, then looked down at the smear of red across his black glove, dumbstruck. And not only was he bleeding, that'd actually hurt. Go figure. Shaking his head slightly, he dropped his arm and looked towards Cid, too amazed to be angry. "Yes, "he muttered, "Hit me again."
        Cid obliged, socking him another good one in the jaw. Sephiroth stumbled back under the impact, neck snapping about painfully, a grin on his face. It was like being alive again, like being sixteen and back in training, being beaten to a pulp by a superior officer. It hadn't been the best time of his life, but he'd been alive. It took him back to that. Heh.
        "Thank you, Mr. Highwind, "he murmered, rubbing his jaw and standing straight. He worked his mouth around gingerly, a crooked smile dominating his fine features.
        "Hey, any time, "Cid returned, sticking his fists in his pockets, "You sure you don't wanna 'nother one? Free of charge. Hell, I'll pay you. Hell, we could sell tickets, two hundred gil a piece. Slug Sephiroth, he enjoys it. Damn, we'd be rich."
        "Hmm." Sephiroth crossed his arms again and resumed his apathy, leaning back against the bulkhead and taking a deep breath. Cid stepped forward, a bit calmer now, but still demanding the return of Barret.
        "Now, are you going to bring my buddy back?" he asked, watching Sephiroth through lowered lids, "Or do I put my fists away and bring out my spear? I doubt you'd ask for second helpings of Venus Gospel."
        "I'm sorry, but I cannot leave and he mayn't return until what I've been summoned to destroy is destroyed. It is a matter that is in the Planet's hands, not in my own."
        "Alright then, Captain Planet, if not Chaos, what're you gonna kill?"
        "Jenova of course. The real threat. Barret Wallace summoned me to stop Jenova. That was my purpose and my desire anyway, but his direct command has now made them more. . . immediate ones."
        "Why would he do that though?" Cid demanded, pouting, "He hates you and wouldn't trust your damned ghost or whatever anymore'n me."
        "He's your friend, "Sephiroth returned, shrugging carelessly and running his eyes over the rest of the dim controlroom, "I would assume you'd know. But it doesn't matter, what's done is done. And done for the better too, might I add. Only I know of the way to halt this insanity, to still the Beast of Death before her murders become too numerous and her power too grand."
        "Well ain't you cocky?" Cid snapped, turning and beginning to pace the room. He stared at the floor with troubled eyes, scowling intensely. "I don't trust ya, "he suddenly declared flat out, "And I'll never trust ya, not if you give me a kidney or a million gil check or put one a my kids through college. You're Sephiroth, a murderer, and dead or alive, summoned or what the hell ever, ain't nothing gonna change that fact. So I don't trust ya. But I do know from Marlene that Barret, like a damned idiot, summoned you. And it seems we're stuck with you until Jenova is a smear of shit on the bottom of the Northern Crater. Again. So the way I see it, we'll do everything we can to get that bitch deader than dead so that you, ya great murdering, psychotic asshole, can go back inside yer little materia like the blessed adoreable little genie you are. And then Barret can come back and I can split him open, stuff him full of candy, and use him as a pinata at Amelia's next birthday party. Sound good? Sound like a plan?"
        Sephiroth stared for a moment, blinking slowly. He set two slender fingers to his chin and stared at Cid like an especially interesting monkey at the zoo. "Are you the comic relief?" he asked finally.
        "Hey bitch! Don't you get arrogant and smart with me again or I'll kick you where it counts, you hear me?" Cid stalked up and spit his words in Sephiroth's face. The General returned his vicious stare, suddenly tired of the insults and tired of the threats.
        "The next time you touch me, Mr. Highwind, "he said cooly, "I may have to touch back."
        Cid snorted but walked away, slightly unnerved by the measured fury in Sephiroth's unearthly voice. "Reeve!" he suddenly barked, snapping about to his friend, "What d'you think? Dammit, what's wrong with you? You been just standing there like a statue. Hey, Red, you too, snap outta it!"
        Reeve blinked hard, shaking his head a bit, a hand automatically going up to straighten his tie. "I'm. . . I'm sorry, Cid, "he breathed, stumbling back, "I'm still not believing you punched him. . ." Putting a hand to his head, he sighed and cleared his throat. "Um, yeah sure, I mean, we're all after the same thing, right? So we may as well help eachother out. Cid, we do need help, you have to admit it. We've been just getting royally smacked at every bend."
        "Speak for yourself, "Cid snapped bitterly, approaching his airships controls and checking on his auto-pilot. He didn't trust the thing with all these mountain peaks about and that storm brewing to the North. "I was up here, in the sky, during most of your little spats with Jenova. And as for Chaos, I would have appreciated it you'd told me beforehand that he was nigh invulnerable. I charged him and then got my ass whipped and my nose busted. I could have saved myself the hassle if I'd known, ya know?"
        "Yeah, sorry. But still, you have to admit, with enemies like that, we are, well. . . outclassed. Our best fighters are the ones we're fighting. Er, yeah." Reeve fell back against the wall, sighing heavily, unable to believe just all that was happening. That scene in the snow, it was screwing with his head. Red against white, Chaos' claws and screams, the demon's madness as it had writhed there in the road and then Sephiroth with that sword in his hand. . . gods, it was the stuff of nightmares but he was really living it. His mind balked against the recent memories and his eyes stung to see Sephiroth still before them, standing casual as anything here in the bridge. And Cid was there and Nanaki and CJ and Ifalna were in back with Marlene and Bugah was with Berk. His friends, his employees, his worst enemy. . . relationships were smearing over and it was giving him a headache. Which only mounted to a migraine as he recalled what Midgar now looked like. What he'd left Icicle Inn looking like. And when he remembered that they'd left poor Vincent half-dead in that burning town to chase after Cloud who'd become an enemy and then poor Tifa who'd become a mystery. . . Reeve had to grip a nearby counter to steady himself.
        "We're going North, are we not?"
        Nanaki stepped forward, shaking off the silent contemplation he'd been entangled in. His tail flickered expectantly as Cid looked up from the controls of his airship. The pilot snorted, snapping random switches, adjusting their course just a hair, then nodded soberly, a few strands of blonde slipping past his pushed-up flight goggles and sticking irritably in his eyes.
        "We're going North, "he answered adamently, "We're going into that Crater."
        "But how do you know that's where we should be going?" Nanaki asked, cocking his head to one side.
        "I just know. And you do too, don't play dumb, or logical, or optimistic with me, Red. Of course that's where Cloud's headed. And of course that's where Tifa's gone. It rather pisses me off that she's abandoned us. . . I mean, doesn't she think we're a help? Doesn't she think we can help them? Dammit, I'm going to get in a fight with her next time I see her."
        "But why the Northern Crater?" Reeve demanded quietly, "Is it because that's where. . . "
        "Yes, "Sephiroth confirmed, "That is where your group left her thirteen years ago, thinking she was dead. She's gone no where else, but has been there ever since. Waiting."
        "And Cloud's gone to her. . ." Reeve shook his head sadly, the beginnings of a lump forming in his throat. "He's gone to her like her little follower, her little murderer. How. . . how could he betray us like that? Damn this, I don't want to have to fight him. I don't. And I will not."
        The bridge was silent and Reeve ground his molars together, biting down hard on the insides of his mouth. It couldn't end like that, not after all they'd done. But. . . what other choice was there anymore?
        "But we're going to have to start fighting him, "Nanaki said quietly. He didn't look up though he felt Reeve's dark eyes upon him, "We can't let him resurrect Jenova."
        "Re-ressurect her?" The tips of Reeve's fingers got suddenly cold. He slammed them in his pockets, eyes wide, "What. . . what makes you think he'll do that? Or, or that he can. . ?"
        "That creature is like a puzzle, "Sephiroth explained, his mouth a hard line of control, "She's reformed the parts remaining in her possession, all that she needs to gain the power to resurface are those parts stolen from her. Those parts stolen and put into other people. She takes back enough of her cells and she'll be whole enough to become that demon of pure destruction that the Cetra sealed for us."
        "How evil is she?" Cid asked lowly, gripping the HighWind's controls like a comforting anchor. He shook his head suddenly, laughing at himself. "That sounded stupid. I mean. . . damn, what do I mean? I guess I'm just wondering what the hell she really is."
        "The Planet's counter, "Sephiroth answered simply. "The opposite of Life. If she's allowed to come to full power, if she's allowed to return to her nearly whole form, humanity and the entire world will be sentenced to death by her hands. This is very serious, Mr. Highwind. I'm not sure any of you realize just how serious."
        "I do, "Nanaki said, "I think I have ever since the very beginning."
        "That's true, "Reeve mumbled, dropping a hand down and placing it atop his friend's head comfortingly, humbly, "I think you're probably the only one of us who hasn't had his head up his ass throughout this. You and Marlene anyways. Heh." The Shinra President scratched at his hairline and rubbed at the corners of his eyes, realizing he was finally coming down off his caffeine/adrenaline high. "Well, General, since you said you know how to handle her, let's gather and let you fill us in. Cid, what's our ETA?"
        The pilot glanced up and shrugged. "With this fog and the snow as thick as it is, I'm having a hard time keeping us from an unfriendly encounter with these damn peaks. I'm thinking my visibility here is about negative one hundred feet. A half an hour I suppose? That is, if I dock us at that outcropping of rock we used last time."
        "Dammit. . . " Reeve scratched his rough chin thoughtfully, "Tifa's going to be way faster on her chocobo. I hope someone's watching out for her. I. . . I don't know who, but, heh. . . someone. I wish she'd waited on us, I wish she hadn't gotten all hotheaded. . . she promised me last night. She promised me she realized how foolish she'd been these past few days. And then she goes off on her own."
        "It'll be all right, Reeve, "Nanaki assured him, trying to lighten the atmosphere, "Tifa can handle Cloud better than any of us, better than Cloud can handle Cloud. And she knows that and that's why she's left."
        "You can rationalize it out your ass, Red, "Cid called cheerfully, "But Tifa left because she was mad. You weren't sitting there. Chaos dropped Cloud's weddin' ring in her lap. It was like a challenge, a final slap in the face. If it wasn't before, it's utterly personal now. I almost feel bad for Jenova. She doesn't know what she's gotten herself into, pissing Tifa off." Cid laughed to himself, then swore softly and swerved the HighWind just in time to keep the massive ship from scraping its silver hull against the side of a sudden mountain. The jagged peaks were all around, like mines bobbing in the ocean, and he couldn't see a damn one until he was ten feet or so from it.
        "I don't care why she's gone off, "Reeve muttered, "I just hope she doesn't get herself killed. I don't know what I'd do. With the kids, ya know?"
        "Don't even think that, you idiot, "Cid commanded sharply, "You just hope for the best."
        "And prepare for the worst, "Sephiroth cut in, straightening abrubtly and uncrossing his arms. He was growing tired of listening to the fruitless conversation. It was actions that counted, not words. Hoping that that woman wouldn't die would not keep her alive, but going down and assisting her with their enemy, that would. "A half an hour is hardly adequate time to prepare, but it will have to do. Now assemble your group and I'll explain what must be done."
        Without another word, he stalked out of the bridge and towards the airship's conference room, his footsteps loud and reverberating through the stillness he left in his wake. Reeve and Nanaki stared after him, both still uneasy with his presence, but Cid only kicked at the base of the control panel before him irritably and heaved fifty sighs.
        "If you'd told me thirteen years ago that Sephiroth would one day be riding on my airship. . . "he began, addressing no one imparticular, "I probably would have told you you'd had one too many." Cid sighed quietly, blue eyes pasted out the forewindow, arms tense on the controls. Reeve shook his head and stalked after the summoned warrior, deep grey bags beneath his eyes and twin ravines running down from his nose and acting as frown lines. He didn't bother looking up as Cid continued.
        "Look at that. . . "
        Reeve ignored the command and left the bridge, but Nanaki obeyed, following his friend's gaze. The view on the other side of the HighWind's grimy forewindow wasn't pleasant. The looming peaks of the Northern Mountain chain pierced the snow-choked skies like prongs of the Planet's bloody tiara. Clouds and fog and the freezing ice shards of the blizzard wrapped the points in white, the HighWind entering it all like a fat clumsy pigeon attempting to fly in the most imposing of heavens. Nanaki blinked hard, then squinted in an attempt to make out their destination beyond all the obscuring mists, sitting up and muttering, "I don't think Jenova could have picked a-- "
        ". . . More intimidating place. . . " Cid finished for him sharply. The two friends looked at eachother and grimaced. The pilot kicked at the controls again, then muttered, "Get outta here and go see what Captain Planet has to say. Tell 'em if it wouldn't be too much trouble, could they possibly frigging talk in the bridge so I could possibly friggin hear? Someone has to do something productive, like. . . fly the friggin airship, eh?" Cid muttered something foul beneath his breath and Nanaki rolled his one eye and padded off, leaving the fuming pilot alone with his controls. The bridge was silent with them all gone and Cid was glad. He doubted he'd get another such moment to himself before the shit really hit the fan. He stared outside, his blue eyes firm on the horizon, and dared Jenova to do her worst.

        The air here smelled strange. Tifa thought it must be more than just the sharpness of the chill as it stung the insides of her nostrils, this scent permeated each breath she took and left her dizzy. Had it smelled like this thirteen years before? Smelled so. . . dead?
        Yunata chirped uneasily, startled by the solemnity and sadness of both her mistress and their surroundings as the two of them skirted the narrow walkway spiraling down into the Crater and infiltrated the imposing blackness of the void opened before them. It was black, Tifa couldn't see the bottom. Her booted feet struck the rocky ground with a hollow sound that echoed back, echoed back empty. She was so sick of echoes. Echoes coming back to her mockingly, her best intentions, her own wholesome footfalls desirous to help, becoming tainted by the wrongness of her surroundings and made evil, frightening, wrong. That's what all of it had been like. . . Tifa, Cloud, their children, everyone involved getting their emotions twisted around by the intruding, wrong presence that'd settled over their lives. Jenova. . . to hell with Jenova, just that evilness, was screwing everything over; that interloping element, that wickedness, that wrongness, it didn't matter that it was a sentient creature, it could have been anything unwanted and evil; a natural catastrophe, a flood, a madman, anything. . . it was evil that'd come to wreck their lives for the sake of destruction. And Tifa, no matter how she wracked her brains, could not understand how a single one of them deserved it. No one deserved this, not she, not CJ, not Ifalna, not Vincent, not Reeve, and certainly, certainly, certainly not Cloud.
        Have I missed something? Did we somehow wrong something at some point in our lives to deserve this now? Thirteen years ago was bad enough, but now this? Could those years of happiness and redemption even compare, even begin to compensate for the price they we're paying for them now?
        No.
        They were being overcharged, they were being screwed. Unfairly billed for thirteen years of love and it made Tifa so angry she clenched her one fist wrapped around Yunata's reins and then grit her teeth so hard it hurt her jaw and gave her a headache. The chocobo warked as Tifa yanked her roughly forward. The woman advanced into that blackness without a single trace of fear in her features, not a single tear. Just indescribeable anger and hatred. She wasn't even cold. Snow billowed about her body in harsh white swirls but she didn't feel it, warmed instead by the fire of her fury.
        "Wanna jacket?"
        Breath catching in her throat, Tifa snapped about at the sound of the voice. A little boy's voice. The chirping of an angel.
        "Jeek. . . "
        The boy was sitting on an outcropping of rock, indian-style, his short black hair blowing in the faint breeze, flakes of white sitting but not melting on his bright red cheeks. He gazed at Tifa with friendly concern in his eyes that changed to gentle surprise after she'd spoken.
        "Hey, ya remember my name, lady. Cool."
        Tifa put a hand on Yunata's neck to calm her and keep the chocobo from circling and falling right off the narrow cliff they were both perched on, at the same time, flinging her hair behind her head with her other hand. The wind whipped at her, biting with freshly sharpened fangs, sticking her bangs into her eyes. Jeek watched with an iciness matched only by the air.
        "Kinda cold for you to be here, "he said softly as Tifa eyed him, "I mean, Mr. Cloud wouldn't want you t'be gettin' sick out here."
        "Where is he?" Tifa hissed, pressing against the icy rock wall behind her, pushing Yunata back away from the edge, "He's come here, right? You don't even need to answer, I just know it. She's made him come here. . . "
        Jeek shrugged and answered, "No one's made anyone do anythin'. . . " The little spectre of a boy looked saddened for a moment, glancing over the lip of the rock he was sitting on and downwards, black eyes piercing the blacker blackness below, that void that disappeared into shadows and obscurity. "No bullies here, lady, "he muttered, "But you shouldn't be here. Mr. Cloud doesn't want you to get hurt, you should go."
        "How do you know what he does and doesn't want? What are you, you little bastard? Are you another form of Jenova, or what? I'm tired of all her little games, her little tricks and jokes and fantasies. Why won't she face me as she is?"
        "I'm not sure what I am, lady, "Jeek answered, "All I know is that Mr. Cloud doesn't want you to be there when he dies."
        "What?!"
        Tifa stepped forward, then gasped as the rocks at the edge of the walkway crumbled beneath her boots and she nearly lost her footing. Regaining her composure with an embarrassed sniff, she pressed back and glared at Jeek intensely. "Nothing more's going to happen to Cloud, "she whispered, "That's why I'm here. Your torturing him's going to end. I'm taking him home. . . he won't be your weapon anymore."
        Jeek shrugged again, honestly not understanding. "My mom's gonna take care of him, you don't need t'worry about it, man. It's all okay. Go home, lady. Cloud really wants ya to. It makes him sad knowin' you're seein' him do all the stuff he's gotta do. Ya really shouldn't try t'stop him, you'll just get hurt."
        "Cloud won't hurt me. He didn't before, he won't now."
        Jeek smiled faintly and looked towards Tifa in genuine compassion. "Don't it make more sense, "he began, "Ta remember him like ya want, like that guy that ya like. . . instead of as the guy everyone hates, like he is now? He's gonna do stuff that's gotta be done, stuff he knows has to happen, stuff me and Jenova knows has to happen. He really really doesn't want ya to see. If you keep walkin' now, lady, Mr. Cloud might hafta keep you from seeing. So it'd be better if you go back and tell yer friends that. Just go. . . it's easier for everyone that way. . ."
        Jeek was almost pleading with her. Tifa narrowed her eyes at his seeming sincerity.
        "I'll ask you again. . . Jeek, "she said softly, not sure what to call him, not really, "What are you? Why do you care?"
        "I don't care! Not really! Screw you sayin' I do!" Jeek flew to his feet in a rage, balling his little fists at his sides, black eyes snapping above a wide frown, "I don't care about any of it! Just go away, lady! Or you'll die too!"
        "No one's going to die!" She screamed the words, desperate to believe, "Especially not anyone I care about! Only you, you vicious little monsters. . . that's all. . . "
        "Yeah, that's right. . ." Jeek muttered, loosening his hands, the frown flying off his features as though a swift breeze had come to brush it away. He smiled at her, his expression softening, "You got it, lady. Only us vicious little monsters'll die. So go home now. And let us die."
        "No--!"
        But he was gone. Eyes wide, Tifa scoured the face of the flat boulder he'd been standing upon and didn't see so much as a shadow. That boy. . . she wanted to see him again, there was something familiar about him. . . she couldn't say what it was. Yet what had he meant. . ? And just what the hell was he?
        "Cloud. . ?" Tifa found herself whispering out loud. The words were a comfort to her ears, something soft but real. She could comfort herself if everything else refused to. "I'm coming after you, Cloud. Hold out until then, baby."
        Yunata made a few impatient coos into her ears and she turned about slowly and gave the chocobo a soft smile and a friendly pat on the side. Jaw set, loose hair falling over her shoulders, warming her somewhat, Tifa continued her descent, careful to watch her treads, wincing everytime Yunata's sharp claws struck the ground and shattered the stillness. The stillness, the quiet of the Northern Crater was stifling. But the echoes were the worst. Tifa would take the silence over the echoes without a single word of complaint. You could fill the silence; with a laugh, a scream, a sob. But the echoes were like corpses; spent, fruitless. The air was full of the dead.
        "I'm scared, Cloud. . . "she whispered, huddling close to her chocobo as they both made their way into the Crater's blackness, "Don't leave without me. . . don't leave at all, I don't want you to. We're going to start over, when we're together again. Nothing else in the world matters as long as we're all together. Didn't you and I always say that in the old days? Isn't that what we said that night under the HighWind? As long as we were with eachother, we could be the only things that we each needed. You could be the only man I needed, I could be the only woman you needed. We'll leave to wherever we need to go. You, me, CJ, Ifalna. . . we're a family, and we'll stay a family, your family, my family. That love's all that matters. You've just lost it is all. That evil's stolen it from you. All I need, Cloud. . . is to return it. And you'll see just how wrong you've been."
        The blackness, the cold, the ice of the crater was overwhelming. Tifa felt lost in it, even Yunata seemed far away though the chocobo's downy throat was the only warmth touching her at all, a small shiver of warm underneath her palm. Tifa filled the thick silence with her words, pushed the echoes away with her hopes.
        "We'll find a place where it won't matter what you've done. Midgar was wrong for us anyway, we should've never tried to make life out of that death. Neither should've Reeve or anyone. No one else stayed there, we shouldn't have either, it was foolish. The four of us will go somewhere better, somewhere evil doesn't have a place, where Jenova and madmen can't find us. There's a place like that somewhere. We'll find our own piece of heaven. And it won't matter what you've done, it won't matter. . ."
        Tifa repeated the words softly, convincing herself of the fact. The cold blasted at her, the white flurries of snow scraped at the shining strands of her untamed hair, Yunata bucked against the cold and the way downwards grew steeper, more treacherous, studded with loose stones and sliding slabs of rock. But through all that cold, she felt what she was looking for somewhere far down below, enshrouded in the ice and dark. So she put one foot in front of the other in stubborn determination, yanking Yunata forward, the both of them shivering with the cruelty of the storm. "Don't you leave for heaven without me, Cloud. Your heaven's here. I'll show you where. . . just wait for me. . ."

        He was so pale.
        A lump like a rock in her throat, Marlene ran her gaze over Berk's motionless features, that one observation taking hold of her mind. So pale. So pale and hurt and nearly dead because he'd felt some flaming desire to save her life. Her stupid life. . . worth no more than his. So why? her calculating mind screamed out against the partitions of her brain, Why did he throw himself at your feet like that?
        "A watched pot never boils."
        "What?"
        Marlene jerked her head up with a painful snap as Bugah bustled by, then clunked her chin back down in her hands with a sigh. The HighWind's forecastle was disgustingly small; four bunks slammed into the walls and a lone chair. All in a room more like a closet than actual sleeping quarters. The roar of the heavy snowstorm outside drifted to Marlene's ears muffled but threatening, mixing with the hum of the airship's engines. If she hadn't been so worried, so anxious and so pissed, she probably would've let the sounds knock her out. "What do you mean "A watched pot never boils", Elder?" she asked finally, sitting back in her hard chair with a groan, looking away from Berk for the first time since they'd taken off.
        "I mean, that young fellow isn't going to wake up any faster with your staring at him, Marlene, "the old man answered with a sniff, setting himself down delicately on the edge of one of the bunks, "And he might take longer just to spite your impatient eyes. Why don't you go and do something productive, let me handle Mr. Berk?"
        "Thank you, Elder, but I'd rather not. I feel somewhat responsible, you know. Um. . . are you sure, truly sure there's nothing else we can do for him?"
        "We've done everything we can, child. He'll wake up when he's ready. A shock to the system, having your lungs pierced by a demon's horns. Or so I would imagine. He had a close call, closer still because you were foolish enough to attempt to heal him yourself. Really, Marlene, that was thoughtless of you. You may be able to diagram the workings of a materia stone on a sheet of paper, but you lack the experience to use your knowledge effectively. You're booksmart, girl, but very young and quite unschooled. Real power and the wisdom to use it properly come with age."
        "Wow. Then, you must be like. . . like Einstein then, Mr. Bugah. . ."
        CJ dashed into the forecastle, Ifalna on his heels, and flung himself onto an empty bed. He scratched his nose absently then sat up on his elbows and eyed the two adults with an obnoxious grin. Bugah returned his less than polite greeting with a gloomy frown.
        "I'm not that old, "he protested solemnly.
        "But your head looks like a prune, "Ifalna disagreed cheerily, "S'all wrinkly like when ya stay in the pool too long." She sat daintily down next to CJ and crossed her hands in her lap, blowing irritating blonde bangs from her eyes. CJ pushed her hard in the shoulder.
        "Better not make him mad, Eef, Nanaki says he gets real long-winded when he gets mad."
        Mouth hanging half open, Bugah sat up in his seat. He threw Marlene a pleading stare then turned back to the kids, his face a mix of hurt and anger and indignance. "Nanaki would never say such a thing, "he began, "And if he would, it'd only be out of frustration. The workings of the Planet are complicated, they cannot be explained in a sentence or two, even a book or two; they're involving and intertwined, their workings and content the stuff of a millenia of study. To try and break such complexities down into a few soundbytes, an easily grasped summary. . . any aspects of our Planet, why, that's foolhardy. Dangerous too. Like trying to compress the enormity of creation into a carry-on bag. . . "
        CJ looked to Marlene as Bugah continued to babble. The kid giggled.
        "I don't think Nanaki meant anything by it, "Marlene cut in, abrubtly shutting her Elder up, and then eager to change the subject. She turned to the newly arrived kids and called, "Hey, CJ, I thought you and Ifalna were looking out the windows in the war room for your mom. Get bored?"
        "Nah. . . "the boy sighed, uneasy, "It's too snowy out, it's like we're flying through a box of cornflakes. I couldn't see anything so I gave it up. Besides. . . that dude wandered in there. . . ya know, that guy."
        "Oh. . . " Marlene crossed her arms and sat forward in her seat, resting her elbows on her knees. She tossed a glance to Berk, frowned, then turned back to CJ. "I would've thought you'd think he was a pretty cool fellow. I thought you were into fighters, into guys that can 'whoop up'."
        CJ shrugged, eyes on the ground. The thought of the man he'd just left cool, indifferent and sad in the war room, heavy on his mind. "Not this guy. He just creeps me out, "he answered, "He looks like he'd spread me on a piece a bread and eat me like a peanut butter sandwich if I gave him the chance, ya know? And besides, he did stuff to my dad, he was a jerk to him years ago, I heard the stories. I don't want nothin' to do with 'im."
        "Me neither, "Ifalna threw in, sitting up a little, "Seph'roth's a meanie."
        Marlene sighed lightly and turned back to staring at Berk, unsure what to add to such a conversation. There were a few minutes of quiet in the forecastle then and CJ used them to examine the back of Marlene's head, turning to watch Bugah's hair blow around in the breeze from the heater once he got bored. Really thin hairs on the old guy. Kinda like fishing twine. Weird.
        "Sephiroth's got a cool sword though. . . "
        CJ said the words before he even realized it, making Ifalna pop him a good one in the shoulder and shout his name. The kid flinched, looking guilty.
        "He does though! It's taller than I am, it's real cool!"
        CJ sat up noisily in the bunk and swung his stubby legs out over the edge, daring someone to deny the fact that masamune was damned cool. No one seemed willing. "Ya know, I don't blame anyone for wantin' him to help, "he continued, little brow wrinkled up in a frown, "I mean, it ain't like I can do anythin'. Or anyone else. So we got him. Makes sense, I get it."
        "You can't do nothin', Ceej, "Ifalna agreed, making her brother grimace. The anger and defensiveness in his violet eyes faded away and defeat seeped in at her words.
        "I know that . . . "he admitted sadly, "So ya got that Sephiroth guy. And mom left us here. I can't do nothin'. Just sit in the airship and wait. Who knows if mom or dad'll come back. Why would they wanna? I'm just a dumb kid without a sword or a gun, or any power or anything. Even my dumb glove's fake. Mom didn't trust me to have anythin' real. Didn't trust me with Ultima Weapon, or even a dumb little glove. I get it."
        "Now that's not true, CJ, "Marlene said suddenly, looking at the little guy in concern, "Your mom and dad'll come back just for the both of you. And her leaving, your mom's leaving, that's got nothing to do with anything you can help. Don't beat yourself up, CJ, you're only ten years old, you can't be expected to save the world."
        "But I'll be eleven in two months!"
        "Don't be a dork, Ceej, "Ifalna said softly, "We're just kids."
        "Speak for yourself, pigtails, I'm a warrior in training! I'm gonna get a sword, a chocobo and some armor and one day I'll kick butt. And when we find Jenova, I'll smack her around. Heh, yeah."
        "You just don't worry about it, "Marlene interrupted, "You just let your mom and us handle it, all right?"
        "Like ya been handlin' it?" CJ asked, scoffing, "Yeah, sure. Ya handled it real good when the Shinra building squished Sector Three. And real good when Midgar went ka-blooie. Man, this is like one of those end of the world movies. Kinda cool, kinda scary. But without the popcorn. I know just how it's gonna end too, they all end the same way. Dad's gonna blow the Planet up. And he'll get blamed and we'll have to move or something and man. . . this is just going to keep sucking more and more, I know it. More and more till the credits roll. I. . . I wanna go bug Cid to hurry up, t'get this dumb airship movin'. I got a bad feelin'. . . "
        "Tifa let's you watch too much tv is all, "Marlene sighed, "But maybe you should go bug Cid. Rattle your commands in his ear, he needs something to take his mind off Barret." Saying her father's name, Marlene eyes went suddenly distant, and she pointed the vacant gaze to the ground. "It's funny, "she thought aloud, "I don't feel at all uneasy about his being gone. Dad knew what he was doing, more than I ever did with that stupid materia. He knows we need Sephiroth's help, knew it even though his brain told him how dangerous it was. He followed his gut, just like dad. . . Now if only he trusted me like I trust him. . ."
        "Yeah, whatever, "CJ snarled impatiently, giving Marlene a skeptical glance, "I'll take Cid's mind offa Barret. I'll yell at him for goin' so slow. He told me he was the best pilot in the world. I want proof! I wanna see this airship move! Gotta get t'mom and dad now! Before they do something stupid like die! Dumb airship ain't worth nothin'. . . . " CJ hopped off the bunk and jammed his hands in his pockets, stalking out of the musty, tiny forecastle with a hurricane's worth of stormclouds stacked on his brow. Ifalna tried to shuffle after him but he pushed her away, faint tears of frustration in his eyes, "You stay here, Eef! "he commanded, "I'm fed up with pansyin' around. I'm gonna go tell Cid to hurry up, to get his butt in gear. We're gonna find mom and dad and go home! It's cold up here and too snowy and they're out there and cold and probably hurt and I gotta help 'em. I'm just as big a wuss as Barret and makes me wanna punch myself!"
        "CJ. . . "Marlene called, sitting up, reaching a hand out towards him. He pulled away, muttering maledictions, and stormed from the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence and a teary-eyed Ifalna.
        "Big dork. . . "the little girl mumbled, then climbed back onto the bed and buried her head in the mattress. Marlene whispered her name, tried to sound friendly, even got half out of her chair and laid a hand on her trembling little back, but Ifalna ignored her, content to cry into the cot.
        "Say something!" Bugah hissed, his old watery eyes full of discomfort at the sounds of the child's sobs. Marlene snapped about and glared at him, then shrugged, at a loss. She didn't know what to say to comfort a kid who'd been abandoned by her parents. Was there really anything possible to say that wouldn't sound lame as shit and false as hell, even to a five year old? Parents were all a kid really ever had, what was left when they'd gone? Marlene didn't have an answer, not a clue how to make her feel better. She hadn't known what to say to CJ either. They were both stranded; on their way to becoming orphans if their parents didn't get their acts together.
        "I wanna go home. . . " Ifalna sniffled suddenly, her voice muffled through the mattress, "I don't like this place!"
        "We'll go home as soon as we find your mom and dad, alright, Ifalna?" Marlene asked softly, hoping she'd sit up and agree with her and behave. But the little girl ignored the half-hearted words and only wedged herself between the bunk and wall, face turned away, but quieter now. With a helpless sigh, Marlene sat back in her chair as Bugah stared through the air with uneasy features, feeling horribly old and inadequate.
        "Why did Tifa leave?"
        His question was sudden and though it didn't sound like it, accusing. It made Marlene jerk her gaze up and around to face him with startled dark eyes. Was he going to start rebuking her now? Didn't he know how well aware she was of all she'd done? Marlene shook her heavy head then bowed it, feeling a pressure like a thousand jabbing elbows in the base of her brain. This was Bugah's way of blaming her. That one question was an accusation, a way to twist his rebuke so that she herself had to speak aloud what she'd done. That was how her Elder punished her. It'd been the same since she was a child, and didn't change, whether she forgot a formula or broke a vial. This time though, her crimes were ever so much more serious.
        "Why did Tifa leave?"
        He asked again, firmer, maybe desirous to fill the air with something besides Ifalna's sniffles. Marlene answered him quietly, surrendering herself to what she knew she deserved.
        "It was probably because I summoned Sephiroth, "she whispered, "It panicked her. But there was no other choice, Elder. You know that, don't you?"
        "But he's very likely the reason that Tifa ran away, correct."
        "I didn't know that she'd do that. I thought we'd explained the materia to her."
        "Explanations are nothing against blind instinct, child. By the gods, Marlene. . . " Bugah sighed slowly, working his Elderly indignation up. "I know how difficult things are right now for everyone; how horrible a situation this is. But you, my girl, are Marlene Wallace, and skilled beyond belief. Yet you seem to have forgotten your lessons and your teachings, and your amazing gift for reasoning, the very thing that makes you so skilled. You're acting too much on impulse and not thinking. Or thinking the wrong thoughts! Twice, you've summoned a madman. Twice! The first time we were lucky, but now we're stuck with him. And now we've lost your father. Now, I didn't tell the others, but I know Barret must have used that materia only because you were so set on it and he wouldn't have you taking the responsibility. Very rash, very ignorant, and very selfish of you to make your father do such a self-sacrificing thing just to stop your unthinking actions. It's a harsh thing to be told but you must begin thinking of others. I shouldn't have to tell you that. I was under the impression that logic was something you were well schooled in. But you've forgotten it, it seems. I don't know if it was that week in Midgar, your new job, the company you've been keeping. . . I just don't understand."
        Marlene bowed her head further under the rebuke, knowing that Bugah was venting on her because of his own aggravation, but that didn't keep the words from stinging any less. She turned her face away from him and back to Berk. He'd yelled at her too, the day before. Yelled at her about her superiority complex, even though Marlene was almost certain she didn't have one. But she was wrong about everything. Everything was blowing up in their faces and she'd lit the fuse.
        "Yes, that man, I'm sorry to say, is another casualty of yours, Marlene, "Bugah barked, watching her gazing at Berk with saddened eyes, "Maybe what happened in Icicle Inn was a god-send. Maybe now you'll begin to act in a more calculating manner when in such situations. Some lessons are very hard to learn. They won't stick between your ears with anything less than solder."
        Bugah harrumphed, feeling self-righteous and unexplainably smug. He noticed his student veritably crying at his words and nearly felt like some thoughtless old man but then, with a stroke of his own ego, he pushed that irritating notion away and crossed his arms in defiance of it. He glanced once towards Ifalna, then back to Marlene, sunken jaw set with his indignance.
        "Will you quit your immaturity now, young miss?" he asked quietly, "There are already two children aboard this airship, we don't need a third."
        Marlene scratched at the corner of one eye, nearly gouging it from the socket, her hands shaking in her attempts at self control. But she managed to maintain it, feeling five years old again, feeling so guilty it almost physically hurt.
        "I'm sorry. . . Elder. . . "she whispered, ready to fling herself down besides Ifalna and join her in her tears. "I just don't know how to deal with these things. . . I'm just doing my best."
        "Yes, well, sorry doesn't always heal everything, "Bugah said sagely, his anger dulling away, "But so long as you've learned, the mistakes you've made aren't totally useless, eh?" He chuckled to himself when Marlene didn't answer, then folded his wrinkly warm hands together in his lap and sighed, a wan smile running over his chapped, thin lips, sure that he'd fulfilled his Elderly duties towards Marlene. Someone had to teach the child that actions carried consequences.
        "Bull. . . shit. . . "
        "Huh?"
        Elder Bugah's gaze snapped towards Marlene as the word rolled softly, roughly in the stifled forecastle air. Face drained, the young woman stood from her chair and approached the side of the bunk Berk was collapsed in. She knelt down, placing two eager hands at the lip of the bed, grasping at the sheets.
        "Berk?" she breathed, her face close to his, looking for any signs of movement. He seemed just as pale as ever, his features grey, his eyes sealed, his dark brown hair matted with sweat and melted snow. She put a finger out and tapped him gently in the forehead.
        "Whatcha poking me for?" he asked, eyes still closed. Marlene smiled wide at the sound of his raspy voice, a bit of lead rolling from her soul, a tingly warmth that spread down to her toes replacing it.
        "Just seeing if you were alive or not, "she answered, "Are you?"
        A grin tugged the corner of his dry lips up and with the greatest of efforts, he opened his eyes into black slits, squinting fiercely at the brightness of the light. "I guess. . ." he began, his voice barely audible, more like a painful whisper, "I guess I hafta be alive if it hurts this bad. Not that I'm complaining. . . mind you. Just answering your question."
        Marlene laughed a bit; laughed in relief and then just because Berk was pretty funny. Before she could really convince herself that the man who'd nearly sacrificed himself for her was all right though, an irritated flat palm slapped her in the shoulder and she had to move aside, standing, to let Bugah have a look at his patient. Frowning in all seriousness, eyes narrowed, the Elder prodded Berk's chest a bit, felt his forehead, and more or less bugged the young Turk so much he was ready to bean him a good one in the head.
        "Does that hurt?" Bugah asked, pressing into his sternum.
        "Ow! Yes!"
        "What about here?"
        "Damn you!"
        "And here?"
        "Get the clue. . . ya old bastard. Refer to my previous answers!"
        With surprising strength, Berk shoved the old man away, then his entire body stiffened and he began to cough uncontrollably, clenching his teeth, running his trembling fingers through his hair and feeling generally shitty. He'd never felt so dead tired before, not even last night. He could barely make his arm move to claw at his chest as it throbbed, even though there was suddenly this desire to know that what'd happened back in Icicle Inn hadn't been a nightmare. But it'd been real. His fingers brushed his wrapped torso, the touch sending thrills of pain throughout his body. He recalled the feel of those pronged horns stuck through his lungs and cringed, falling back into the bunk with a moan.
        "Are you all right?" Marlene pushed Bugah aside and knelt down over Berk again, almost desperate to keep him from being in pain. She'd been the cause of his suffering afterall, his injuries. She hadn't stayed in the airship, she'd rushed out into Icicle Inn as though she'd owned the place, practically throwing herself in Chaos' lap. And this guy, he'd plucked her out again. That hole in his chest only so recently healed, she'd put that there.
        "I'm okay, "he groaned, "Just tired and aggervated. Busted up two times by Chaos, it ain't fair."
        "Both times because of me. . ." Marlene said the words before she could stop herself, cheeks reddening in shame. Berk cracked his eyes open and looked at her intensely.
        "Whatever, "he said easily, "I was just doing my job. Protect the brainiacs, Reno said. So I have been. Or at least trying to."
        "Marlene doesn't make it easy, "Bugah interjected, poking at Berk's chest again, "Does this hu--"
        "If you touch me again. . . God damn it, just assume that everything hurts, okay?"
        "And maybe I should just assume that these wounds will heal by themselves. . ?" Bugah asked irritably, taking out a green materia and rolling it absently in his hand. Berk tossed him the meanest scowl he could manage, but found he couldn't maintain it. Just furrowing his brows gave him a headache. "Really, young man, I'm only trying to help you. It's the least I can do after you saved Marlene's life. . . "
        "I didn't save no one's life. . . "Berk muttered, "I just was protecting the interests of Shinra. Miss Wallace is a valuable comrade and her knowledge is very useful to the company's cause. That's all. Her use outweighs my own so I acted according to that fact, nothin' more."
        "Your reasons are immaterial, boy. You saved my student and we're both very grateful."
        "Yeah. . . that and eighty gil will buy me lunch."
        Berk shoved Bugah away again and sat up in the bunk, smacking his head against the bed above him, swearing, then breaking down into more coughs. Marlene cringed at his scowl and at the pain he was obviously in, gritting her teeth against guilty tears. Maybe if she could just get Bugah to leave, it'd make Berk take it easy. She could do that for him, if nothing else. "Elder. . . "she began hesitantly, gazing on the old man pleadingly, "Why don't you go and see if Cid or Reeve need anything? Let me handle Mr. Berk, alright?"
        Berk eyed her suspiciously as she shot pleas to her Elder but didn't say anything, trying instead to take an actual deep breath. There was air all around him but his lungs felt empty, the end of his fingers and toes hollow and cold with a want of oxygen. His attempts to give his body what it needed though, only made him break down into fiercer coughs, a fire flaring in his chest. Bugah listened to his hacking with a skeptic puckering of his lips, but then shrugged his bony shoulders and made for the door.
        "That young man won't be grateful or accept gratefulness, "he muttered, clasping his hands behind his back, "The both of you are children. . . "
        "Now you shut the fuck up!"
        Bugah snapped about to see Berk suddenly sitting hunched over, grasping his chest but trembling in rage, fists balled at his sides. "I laid there for a while before I got the strength to actually talk, just listening to you bash Miss Marlene. You just shut up, Bugah, quit taking out your own inadequacies on other people. The next time I. . . I. . . "
        Gritting his teeth, Berk broke down into coughs, grabbing himself so tightly that tears rolled down his cheeks. Marlene stood hurriedly and almost forcibly pushed Bugah from the forecastle, shutting the heavy steel door behind him, oblivious to his harsh words and half-confused scoldings. As soon as he was gone, she whipped around and placed two firm palms on Berk's trembling shoulders, pushing him back to a flat position on the bunk.
        "You were nearly killed, "she hissed, not looking him in the eyes, flinching every time he coughed, "You can't start yelling at Elder Bugah just yet, Mr. Berk."
        He glared at her but was still, smearing his bare arm across his mouth, looking with wide eyes at the bright red there. "Shit. . . " he muttered slowly, "Ain't I better yet?"
        Marlene grimaced, her conscience taking bites out of her heart, then dug around behind her and snagged a dirty towel from off the floor. She wiped Berk's arm and the corners of his mouth for him, a firm frown line nearly cutting her face in half. "I'm sorry, "she whispered, folding the towel and looking away, taking a seat back in the wooden chair. "I ruined your chance for a full recovery because I was stupid and tried to heal you myself."
        "Oh. . . " The Turk swallowed hard, making a face at the rusty blood on his tongue, "Well, don't worry about it. I can deal with a little blood."
        "Yeah. "
        He tried to sit up again, to put her mind more at ease. He could see the guilt in her face and it clawed at him, twisting into him harder than those demon horns had been able to. Marlene turned and pushed him down again, beginning to get angry at his stubbornness.
        "Don't try and act better than you feel, Mr. Berk, "she demanded quietly, "I know just how badly Chaos gored you, you can't fool me."
        "I'm not trying to fool you!" he snapped, suddenly angry himself but still coughing between his words, "I'm just trying to get the hell outta this bed and be some help. I don't wanna be stuck in here. Where the hell is everyone anyway? How'd we get back on the airship?"
        "Reeve and Cid carried you. We left Chaos back in Icicle Inn, now we're after Cloud and Tifa."
        "Tifa?" Berk echoed, bright eyes wide, "What's up with Tifa?"
        "She ran off after Cloud. To the Northern Crater."
        "Well, that doesn't sound promising. . . "
        Berk hacked again, snatching the towel from Marlene and pressing it to his mouth, sweat beading on his pale cheeks as a fiery pain wracked him.
        "Why. . . god dammit. . . why can't ya just cast another spell and finish this up. . ?" he growled, holding the towel so tightly it oozed out between his fingers, "I mean, what the hell is materia good for if ya can't fix me up with it, eh?"
        "I tried to, I did, I. . . I cast a heal and then Bugah did some technical manipulating with spells, enough to keep you alive. You're okay, Mr. Berk, just. . . your lungs are still a little tore up is all."
        There was a brief quiet as he digested the words, getting control of his coughing and looking down at the towel, turning a little green. Marlene took it from him, eager to do something with her hands. She folded it a few times then set it in her lap, suddenly unable to look him in the face.
        "Ya can call me Berk, ya know."
        "Hmm?"
        Berk eyed his bare feet, wriggling his toes beneath the sheets, the rustling loud in the quiet room. "You can call me just Berk, I said. No one calls me "mister". Except maybe my doctor."
        "Really? I guess you should just call me Marlene too. Pretty stupid to keep up formalities with everything going on. Besides. . . besides your being so respectful to me is silly after. . . what you did."
        "What I did?" Berk blinked hard, honestly not understanding for a moment. But then it hit him. Duh. Funny though, he didn't think his saving her life like that had been any kind of a big deal. Even though the guy wasn't one to go putting his life on the line for kicks, even though he was one of the safer members of the Turks, his jumping out in front of Chaos didn't seem like that big a deal when he thought back on it. Of course he'd done it. What else could he do?
        "You shouldn't. . . "Marlene's voice trailed off and she squirmed as Berk eyed her, his own thoughts whirring through his head, "You shouldn't have yelled at Elder Bugah like that. You don't understand where he's coming from or what I am. He's put a lot of effort into my education. I have too. I have to live up to that and stop acting like. . . well, damn, like Barret."
        "Sorry then, "Berk apologized, actually meaning it, "But I like to name pricks as I see them. And your old Elder man there is the newest member on my own personal roster of pricks I happen to be acquainted with. You shouldn't let him yell at you like that. Your summoning Sephiroth, or rather, Mr. Wallace summonin' him, that saved us. It did the time before too. Ya impressed the hell outta me. Screw Bugah."
        Marlene grinned, glancing up and meeting Berk's gaze. They stared at eachother for a while, each wondering who the bigger bullshitter was.
        "Well, anyway, you'll be okay, "Marlene finally blurted, feeling like she had the brain of a wooden post, "You shake off injuries like leaves from your shoulders. I suppose Turks are just tough like that."
        Berk shrugged, again trying to sit up and Marlene let him this time, not about to go putting her bare hands on his bare shoulders again. Stifling a groan, he swung his legs out over the edge of the bed and sat there for a moment, catching his breath, fluttering his fingers over his bandages. Marlene watched him, her dark eyes running up and down his chest, across his protruding collarbones, that little notch at the base of his throat, then hovering near his abs. He had quite a nice build. The thought made her cheeks flame red and she coughed, covering her mouth and face to hide the traces of her blushing.
        "Seems it's contagious, "Berk chuckled.
        "What?"
        "You coughed, I mean. . . heh. "
        "Oh. Er. . . yeah."
        She got up from the chair, the bloodied towel falling from her lap and fluttering to the ground like a bullet-riddled dove from the sky. The sight made her uneasy, that sudden image, that sudden comparision. She stood there, staring at the cloth, the rattling of the HighWind coming up through the soles of her shoes and running cold and jarring up her calves. Ack, why did she see omens in everything? She just thought too much was all. . .
        "What's the matter?" Berk demanded, seeing the sudden unease tip-toeing across her features. He sat up a little further, jutting his chin forward to peer closer at her face through the dim light of the tiny forecastle. Berk didn't want to see her hurt anymore. Seeing that guilt before, it made him nearly regret saving her life. As foolish as that sounded. The pain of his injuries, the consequence of his jumping out in front of Chaos like an idiot, that was nothing. But that piercing guilt that darted from Marlene's eyes and straight into his heart, zapped the air from his lungs. She should never ever feel guilty over him. Not over someone as meaningless as a cowered, controlled Shinra Turk.
        "You should get some sleep, "she suggested suddenly, turning abrubtly towards him, "I hear the others outside, they're going to want to talk. I'll tell President Reeve you've passed out so he'll leave you alone, all right?"
        "No, I told you, I want back into the fight."
        To prove his point, Berk tried to stand up. The moment he attempted to put any weight on his feet though, his entire lower body crumbled like a collapseable chair and he sunk to the ground with a sharp intake of breath, cursing himself as a weak idiot. He could feel Marlene looking at him and his cheeks burned red in shame.
        "Damn fuckin' stupid ass Chaos. . . "he swore, "Doing this to me. . . "
        He laid there, trying his best to push himself up but was overcome by dizziness and nausea, coughs spraying from his mouth so violently he was sure his throat would cave in. Blood and curses poured over his lips and he turned his face away so Marlene couldn't see him.
        "You don't have to try and be so tough, Berk."
        Two hands under his arms then, pulling him up as gently as they could but still trembling under his weight. Berk put a palm out to help, sucking in air, shutting his eyes and ready to pass out but then the blissful firmness of the bunk was underneath him, cool fabric tickling his back and he sank down, glad to quit the straining. "I'm fine though. . . "he insisted, eyes closed, "Stupid demon had nothing on me."
        "Of course not, "Marlene said in total agreement, pulling the sheets over his chest, watching his face and wiping the blood from his lips again, almost tenderly, "Stop being so damned stubborn, you bastard, "she whispered, "And quit talking so much, it's not good for you."
        "I don't talk that much, "he disagreed, feebly shaking his head, "Only when Reno or Rude aren't around. See, you don't know me, Marlene. Not really."
        "Well, no one ever really knows anyone else, "she answered lightly, eager to wipe the seriousness she heard beginning in his voice away. She could hear the others outside, Nanaki's growling voice snapping at CJ as the kid insisted they hurry. They needed to hurry, the world was pressing, Jenova was waiting, horror was seeping in from the blacker parts of reality, threatening to send them all to hell. . . Marlene couldn't let Berk start spilling his guts to her. Not here, not now.
        "Well, that's deep."
        "Huh?"
        "What you said. . . aw, just jokin' though, "Berk laughed, "Just jokin'. . . god damn, I don't feel good. Not that I'm complaining, mind you."
        "This is my fault, "she told him plainly, "So I'm going to fix that. You don't worry, you lay here and I'll have you feeling better. A day of rest and we can cast another heal and you'll be good as new. I'll have Bugah cast it, he's so strong with materia. You'll feel better than before Chaos hurt you, you'll see.. . "
        "Don't say that."
        "What?"
        "That it's your fault. I jumped in front of Chaos, it was my own decision to help ya out. You didn't twist my arm, no one did. So don't say this is your fault."
        That was stupid. Berk's logic was stupid and Marlene was half-tempted to tell him so. Yet she didn't want to. It was a nicer logic than hers. But still. . . dammit, it only presented another issue to be answered. One she didn't want to approach. There wasn't time to deal with this, there really really wasn't. So many things waiting for them, no time for a Shinra Turk and a Shinra scientist to sit up in an airship and argue with eachother.
        But if they didn't clear it up now, they might very well die out there in the next hour or two and never clear it up.
        Clear what up? she screamed at herself, suddenly panicked, What in god's name am I talking about?!
        "Are you all right, Marlene?" Berk asked, looking concerned, "You're not going to cry or anything, are you? Listen to me, you shouldn't feel bad. I was just doing my job as a Turk, and protecting my charge. Mr. Reno would've kicked my ass if I showed up and told him you'd gotten impaled by a big fuckin' demon, ya know? I get paid for saving you, I'll get a paycheck for it. Turks only work when they're getting paid for it. I can't remember what number that is in the list of Turk rules, but heh. . . that's how it is. So don't feel guilty, let me. I'll cry all the way to the bank." Berk laughed heartily through his coughs, the words stinging him more than the wounds but he had to get that guilty look off her face, it was tearing him up.
        "Marlene!"
        Reeve's voice. It made the both of them look up and towards the forecastle door.
        "Marlene, c'mon! The General has some things to tell us! Get out here! CJ, don't bug me now, pal."
        Marlene's cheeks paled as the sound of her President and CJ squabbling drifted in from outside. Could she go out there?
        No.
        Not with this sudden emotion scratching at her conscience. There was something she needed to know first, Jenova be damned.
        Jaw firm with her decision, she stood from Berk's bedside suddenly, laying the towel in his hand, then stepped briskly over to the forecastle door and pulled it open, leaning outside. Reeve looked towards her with a smile, trying to pry CJ's fingers from around his wrist.
        "Hey, Bugah said Berk's awake, "he called, stepping forward from the metal catwalk, leaving the conversation he, Nanaki, and CJ had been absorbed in, features strained with worry and his attempt to keep his spirits high. He examined Marlene's features cautiously, having some idea how she might be feeling.
        "He still doesn't look too great. . . "the young woman answered, not meeting his gaze, "I think he's going to sit this one out. I'll be with you in a minute though, all right?"
        "All right, "Reeve responded, his voice a hesitant waver. He quit his approach and crossed his arms, staring at Marlene through narrowed, thoughtful eyes. "Everything okay in there?"
        "Oh, yes, sir, "Marlene said hurriedly, just before slamming the door shut in his face.
        "Marlene, er. . . what're you doin'?"
        Berk was sitting up again and his clueless gaze enfuriated Marlene so suddenly it took both of their breaths away.
        "Don't try that shit on me, "she hissed, stepping forward, trying to keep her voice low, "I want this settled right now before I go out there, before I have to deal with this. Why did you save me today? Why were you looking towards me and not towards the fight as I was coming into the village? Yesterday. . . why did you jump on Chaos' back? Why did you push me outta the way when I was coming up out of the chute? You don't do these things for Elder Bugah, for Nanaki. . . why am I so special? Why are you always watching me? Always running those dark eyes of yours up and down my legs? Do you think I'm blind? I'm not!"
        Berk leaned back against the wall, wishing he could sink into it. Marlene's snapping eyes filled his vision, her half-mocking voice ringing down like an angry goddess'. And she wouldn't stop.
        "I'm not stupid either, "she muttered, "You have a thing for me, is that it? Or don't you? Yesterday you talked to me as though you'd never met a more disgusting girl, as though I made you sick. And my father. . . you treat him like dirt. Why then do you keep going out of your way to keep me alive? Want to look at the doll a bit longer? Hell, I'll give you a snapshot and you can look at me all you want."
        He was a joke. She thought he was a joke. And damn it all, but his stupid feelings probably were a joke. What feelings did he have that would mean anything to this woman? Just a lust, just an admiration that he didn't want to admit to, just a longing to make her his. But Berk was sure he could have that with anyone, he wasn't going to put up with shit from Marlene Wallace just to feel satisfied.
        "You're fucked, "he stated coldly, voice so even, so controlled it surprised him, "I told you, I was doing my job these past few days. As for looking at you, yeah, you got a nice ass. But don't go thinking I want to lay you or anything. Don't go giving yourself so much credit, just because Neto wanted you, doesn't mean every other guy in Shinra does too. I don't give two shits for you, you're. . . "Berk's voice died away, his aggression somewhat dulled by the tears welling in Marlene's eyes. He swallowed hard but made his voice boom forth. "You're conceited and ya think you're so damned smart. You are smart. But you're stupid too. And I don't dig stupid chicks."
        "I wouldn't. . . I-- I wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire, you unfeeling Turk bastard." Marlene made her voice just as icy, just as indifferent, clawing the tears from her eyes, "If you ever try to give your life to me again, I swear to god I'll wad it up and throw it back in your face! Just stay away from me! Whatever your damned reasons are for what you do. . . I don't know if it's some sort of sick twisted pleasure you get. . . toying with my feelings like that, maybe you get off on guilt, I don't know what your frigging problem is, but you stay away from me. . . "
        Oh, gods, he'd made her cry again. . . Berk's face fell to the floor as Marlene turned away, a fist to her pursed lips. He smacked a hand against his forehead, dizzy and so confused that it hurt. Why was she crying? Why had she cried before, as he'd lain dying in the snow? She didn't. . . Marlene didn't really care what he thought, right? How could she after yelling at him like that, after using that tone of voice, so cold, so cutting, so damned mocking that it made his teeth hurt? Gods, she made him feel like an insect and little mewling flies had no business buzzing up around the swans, right? Right. She didn't give two shits for him, she was obvious with it. He wasn't such a damned uneducated Turk asshole not to understand that after she'd painted it out so clearly for him. So he couldn't let her know that he cared, that. . . that those tears in his eyes. . . he so so dearly wished they were shed for him, and not because of him.
        "Why dontcha kiss?"
        Marlene's watery gaze refocased towards the voice and saw Ifalna sitting up in one of the bunks, watching the two of them intently. She'd forgotten the little girl was even still in there.
        "Kiss?" Marlene asked, voice cracking in the middle of the syllable, "Kisses aren't something that you hand out like halloween candy, Ifalna."
        "Dad always kisses mama when they fight. . . "the little girl mumbled, rubbing a fist into her eyes sleepily, "And that stops it." She giggled suddenly, remembering something. "Mama says that's okay 'cause dad kisses better than he argues. . . "
        Marlene turned away from the kid, looking at the closed forecastle door, ready to fling it open and flee the stifling hold of the hot and musty room, the unfeeling eyes of that man on the bed. Why did it matter what the hell he thought anyways. . . she didn't care. She didn't, she didn't. Berk was just some insenstive Turk. Just another jerk, another bastard with a forked tongue. And she shake him off just as easily as she could anyone else.
        "I don't understand you, Mr. Berk, "she muttered, not turning around and heading for the door, "Whatever your intentions are towards me, forget them and for the rest of the time we work together, just treat me as another comrade. That's all I should be to you and according to what you told me, that's all I truly am. You're nothing to me either, I only barely met you. This entire conversation was probably just a waste of breath and time and I'm sorry for starting it. I was wrong. I thank you very much for your assistance to me these past few days, it's very gallant of you, whether you're being paid or not. But now please stop. I already owe you too much, and I refuse to pay you in what you want. . . "
        "What?!"
        Berk catapaulted to his feet at that last sentence, forgetting any pain still hanging around, and nearly climbed on Marlene's back he shot forward so fast. "What the fuck're you talking about? You think I help you cause I want you to sleep with me? Do you know how disgusting that is? How in the fuck can you go around thinking I'm some kind of perverted animal like that? I-- I. . . "he stuttered, at a complete loss, "I'm not like that at all! At all! God dammit, ya know what your problem is? You don't know shit about shit! You don't know how to handle a guy actually liking you, so you turn him into a bastard and give yourself a reason to dismiss 'im! Yeah, you can't handle it! Sleep with you, my ass! I would've been satisfied with a smile. . . " Berk's mouth hung mid open as he realized what he'd said. "Oh, fuck."
        "You do like me then. . . "Marlene whispered, blinking quickly, dropping the hand that had been poised to open the door and set her free from this sudden confrontation, "Then why do you say those things?"
        "Er. . . well, because they're true. I haven't known you that long, just a coupla days, but you're really rather obvious. And because, you're right. I'm damned insensitive. A jerk."
        "Berk the jerk."
        "Heh, like I didn't hear that all through junior high. But I guess it stuck, because I grew up to be one." Berk squirmed, wishing Marlene would turn around and look at him, but at the same time so glad she wouldn't that it frightened him. He couldn't believe he was being so damned frank all of a sudden. What was it? Hell, maybe the shit of the past few days had gone a long ways towards growing him a little backbone. Maybe he didn't want to get older and become another Reno, too engulfed in his own pride and his own stupid ego to ever admit he'd been wrong or weak or foolish, to ever apologize. "Listen, Marlene, I shouldn't've kept looking at you like I've been. . . er, thinking of you like I've been doing lately without saying something to let ya know how I feel. It's almost like I was stealing pieces of you without paying, like a stupid punk snatching chocolates outta the sweetshoppe. I apologize for that right now. Maybe my flaming desire to keep saving your ass was my stupid way of trying to pay without having to come out and beg you to notice me, I dunno. But I'm sorry."
        "Sorry?"
        Marlene had barely heard the words. Her brain felt numbed, her tongue like a useless plank in her mouth. She absently pulled a strand of hair from her eyes, unsure if her cue to speak had come yet. Berk was quiet, the words had stopped, so she guessed so.
        "I'm not sure I like what you said. . . "she breathed, "About my defenses. I'm not sure I like someone I barely know psychoanalyzing me, seeing things in me that my best friends, people I've known all my life, have never bothered to clue me in on. And I'm not sure I believe you about them. Berk, you're a nice guy and an amazing fighter. You're. . . heh, you're cute too, but I barely know you. A little more time, let me get to know you better, you get to know me, and we'll see what happens, all right?"
        "You're talkin' like I just proposed to you. . . "Berk said lightly, cracking a smile, "I haven't even asked ya out yet. I like you, Marlene, hell I'll admit it. I like ya and I'm not even sure why. I mean, don't get me wrong, I could compliment you for days, anything you may see in me you can beat me by by like, a thousand times, but I knew that you were something special the first time I saw the back of your braided little head. You turned around then and your face was icing on the cake but you just have a glow about you. . . sounds corny, I know, but . . . well, fuck, whatever. I can't explain it and I'm not genius enough to try."
        Marlene laughed a little, and suddenly some of the tension in the air lifted a bit. Compliments went a long way with her. Still, she wasn't going to force something on herself. As she'd said, she barely knew Berk. It was nice to know there was something there behind the cool, cocky Turk mask, but still, just how much was there? And would she like all of it?
        "Thank you. . . "she said genuinely, slowly turning about to face him, "You're really sweet, Berk. But still, let's see what happens, all right? As you said so delicately, I'm a calculating "mako genius" and I have to work things out for myself before I feel right about anything. I want to get to know, I hate to. . . to. . . "
        To what?
        To. . .
        They were facing eachother now, only inches apart. Marlene's face was flushed with her arguments, her consternation, her complete misunderstanding and her utter embarrassment. It was s combination that had her cheeks burning, her lips parted with her rapid breaths. She breathed a little quicker as each and every one of her reasons drifted straight out of her head. What was there to rush in and replace them. . . just, just Berk. Just this Turk bastard with the stupid grin on his face. Those dark green eyes watching her in complete joy, seeing the look he'd tossed her way the past few days finally coming back at him just a bit.
        Marlene didn't know why she couldn't talk anymore, why reasoning this out suddenly didn't matter, or even why Berk's warm gaze was making her tremble like a drop of water at the end of someone's finger. This guy seemed to know her better that Barret, better than Nanaki, better than Bugah, or anyone else. After a few days, he'd labeled her as an arrogant princess, a selfish brat. But he still liked her, despite the observations, liked her enough to nearly die for her. Twice.
        Was that reason enough then? Logic enough? Her brain uttered a few half-hearted protests, screaming a lot of worthless crap about the end of the world, but as it had been tending to lately, Marlene's heart hollared louder. And then Berk's warm, flushed lips shouted a raucous cry, backing up her heart's encouragements, and then his beautiful eyes whispered louder than anything else. They were beautiful, when they weren't mocking something, or cursing something out, or bowed submissively under Reno or Rude's scrutiny.
        Berk bent his face downwards a bit, cocking his head to one side with a practiced ease that made Marlene grin at her own inexperience. Ifalna gazed upon them from the bunk, her knees pulled up to her chin, her fingers wrapping in the long blonde strands of her pigtails as she watched her two grown-up friends kissing.
        "Jus' like mom and dad, "she whispered, "I told 'em." The little girl laughed silently to herself, even as Reeve started pounding on the forecastle door.

        It had been almost a half an hour and he was still alive. Vincent figured Hojo's little chemicals wouldn't kill him afterall.
        "Are you through bleeding, human?"
        But by hell, they were coming uncomfortably close.
        "I'm sorry. . . Chieko. . . "he sputtered, spitting red from his mouth in distaste. He'd made the creature land so he wouldn't have to muss her back fur up with his own dark blood. He kept throwing the stuff up and wasn't really sure what that meant. He wasn't very sure of anything. Just a lot of pain, a lot of dizziness, a lot of questions. What had been in that vial? "Mako", the letter had said, "And other things." Vincent knew all about Hojo's "other things". They'd rather been the scientist's specialties.
        Chieko pawed the ground, stamping puffs of dust beneath her claws, her hoary head turned up to sniff the sky, taste the cold breeze, catch the occasional snowflake on her tongue. Her keen brown eyes scanned their surroundings, alternately widening and narrowing as the blackness of the Crater, the blue of the heavens above them, and the deathly cold of the air combined to assault her uncaringly. Or maybe. . . not as uncaringly as she would've liked to believe. There was something unmistakeably vicious and cunning about the atmosphere here. The feeling made the hairs on her back stand on end, prickled her whiskers, set her rapid heartbeat thumping even faster.
        "What is this place we're in?" she demanded quietly of Vincent, "There's something wrong about the air, as though the atmosphere itself is dead. Hard to breathe. . . the air sits in the throat, heavy, like it's frozen, weighed down. . . I don't like it."
        "This is the Northern Crater, "Vincent answered, stepping forward from the looming boulder he'd been propped against. He swiped at his hair, then brushed a gloved hand against his cloak, straightening it. He could feel the wrongness of the air too. It made something within him stir. "Your mother is here, Chieko. That wretched thing you call a mother. That thing that is so evil, it stands against any connotations the word "mother" carries with it. But that's besides the point. . . " Vincent laughed to himself, smearing blood from the corners of his mouth and taking a deep breath of the wicked air. He was lightheaded, like he'd been breathing paint fumes too long. Damned Hojo. . .
        "Will you be able to keep moving? I'd rather you not die before you've done as you've said you will." Chieko cocked a cold eyebrow up as Vincent collapsed mid-stride, clenching his fists when he hit the hard ground on his knees.
        "Makes no difference, "he answered, "Let's just get going. Don't you hear her?"
        "What? Where're we going? Into there?"
        Chieko peered down into the depths of the Crater, fear consuming her features despite her attempts to shove it away. She could feel Jenova somewhere down there and that subtle, artful calling nearly made her heart soar in anticipation. Yet. . . she was so scared of what would greet her below, that mother she'd always known existed but had never been shown, that it made her hesitant to proceed. What would Jenova say? What would the monster do? A reunion that Chieko so desperately desired but so mindlessly feared all at the same time.
        "You're afraid. . . "
        Vincent made the observation casually. Chieko snapped at him but he stood from the stone-littered ground, unflinching.
        "You're afraid too, "she snarled back, piqued. She didn't like this small man passing such judgements, judging, even. . . rebuking such a mighty marvel as Chieko. She'd kill him if he persisted, she'd stifle that unfeeling voice no matter the consequences.
        "Maybe I am afraid. . . "he relented right off, a smile tugging at one side of his mouth, "But what difference does that make? You "love" your dear dear Mother Jenova. Why should you be so terribly frightened of her? Heh. . . but I'm sorry, Chieko, it's not your fault. You're just another of the deluded fools, this world's full of them. But there'll be one less after today. There's one less now. Now I'm just a regular sort of fool. There's a comfort in that."
        "Don't mock me. . . "Chieko snarled quietly, lowering her head, mane slapping her neck in the cold breeze. Vincent shrugged, trying his best to stand straight, then peered at her through his one good eye.
        "You're not very bright, are you?" he asked, "I'm mocking myself, Chieko. Quite the difference."
        "Don't look at me like that. . . "
        "Like what?" Vincent lowered black brows, easy grin fading away as Chieko looked upon him in unease. He adjusted a strap keeping one of his rifles up, scratching at the bandana covering what had been his left eye absently.
        "You're looking at me as though you know everything about me. . . but you don't know anything. Only Hojo knew. . . only he knew, cared, anything. . . now he's dead and I don't have anyone but Jenova. We must go to her, you must take me there."
        "I am, "Vincent replied cooly, moving forward with crooked steps, rocks rolling away beneath his feet, "And you're right. I don't know anything about you. I don't want to either. We all have our own problems and we all must deal with them as best we can. I won't lay mine on you, you please return the favor and keep yours from me. Individual concerns have no place here anyway, I've realized that. We're all quite, quite trivial. Though some far more than others. . . " Vincent smiled a little sadly, crossing his arms against the lethal chill that blew straight past his shirtfront and into his sore flesh. But then he shook the thoughts that began to creep within him off like a thorny crown and shouldered his two rifles, smacking the uzi tucked in his cloak reassuringly.
        Can't help but wonder if maybe Cloud doesn't have the right idea, he thought to himself, smouldering red eye piercing the depths of the crater spread before him. The sight brought back memories, brought back nightmares that had no place under that all consuming morning sky above his head. Maybe it should all get blown to hell. Black below, sky above. Heaven and hell. Seems I'm standing at the girding line now. I'll throw myself down to hell there without a qualm. Why? When Jenova could be so right in her desires to destroy humanity?
        "Why do I hate them?" he asked himself beneath his breath, "Because I know what they're thinking, what they'd do, what they take from eachother at every opportunity? Hell, it doesn't matter, it's hardly my place to judge anyone."
        "What are you muttering, human?" Chieko demanded, growing impatient, growing anxious.
        "Nothing, "Vincent replied grimly, swinging himself with difficulty onto her broad red shoulders, "I'm just thinking like a demon. Again. Seems it's not as dead as I'd hoped. Seems I'm a fool who hasn't learned his lessons yet. I wonder what Hojo, fate, whatever will do to try and teach me further."
        The words were bitter but he couldn't retract them. As Chieko mumbled curses, mumbled fears and spread her great leathery wings out to the skies, preparing to dive into that hell, Vincent looked down numbly at the red pinprick in his forearm, head swimming with the physical results of the injection, imagination roaring, wondering just what Hojo's final intentions had been. Was that dead man somewhere laughing right now? Laughing at Vincent for trusting that letter, for blindly going through with something so foolish out of simple desperation? Hojo probably thought it was god damned hilarious that he'd put his hopes for salvation into the hands of the very man who'd damned him. And Vincent thought it was pretty funny too. Hell, it was all a riot.
        But because of Hojo, what would he be when he stopped laughing? Dead? A demon? Vincent? Or perhaps the worst of all: what he'd always been. All three.

        "Price gouging? 500 gil?! Do you know how fuckin' sick that is?!" Reno slammed the carton of smokes down on the counter so that the package crumpled beneath the impact. He stuck a trembling finger up into the shopkeeper's face, as though to individually poke each of his eyes out, "You sick sick sick sack of shit!!! I'll fuckin' shoot you in the head, take you out back, dry your dead carcass in the sun, stick ya in a meat grinder and roll my own god damned cigarettes outta yer ass! What d'ya say dickless? How d'ya think you'd taste menthol?"
        The shopkeeper gibbered, two pudgy hands held out before him in suplication to the fiery-haired Shinra employee. "Please! sir! I'm just trying to make a profit! You. . . you gotta understand!"
        "Makin' a profit offa other people's suffering. . . that's sick. Sick and sad and wrong as hell." Reno flung about, releasing the carton of cigs petulantly, then paced in a quick, enfuriated circle in front of the counter, half glad that that counter was there or he knew he wouldn't be able to keep from lunging at the jerk's throat and slamming Mr. Voltage up his nose. Gods, it was bad enough that Kalm was completely dry, not a drop of liquor left in the one horse town with the cityload of refugees flooding the streets and stores, just as thirsty as him, but smokes. . . he had to have smokes! He'd smoked at least a pack a day for the last ten years and now it'd been nearly thirteen hours since he'd last lit up. God, the craving was making him jittery and nervous and ready to hurt something.
        "500 gil. . . "he sneered, facing the fat shopkeeper again, words growled through clenched teeth, "I make that much money in an hour, you know that? Paying you 500 gil isn't shit to me. . . "
        "So er. . . why you making a fuss, sir?"
        "Heh. . . " Reno smiled evilly, snatching at the cigarettes and throwing gil at the guy, "Principle, ya prick. I hope ya choke on your 500 gil. I hope ya have nightmares and have t'go to therapy because these little friggin gil marks keep snappin' at ya in your dreams. . ."
        "And I hope you enjoy your cigarettes. . . sir." The shopkeeper gave Reno a smug glance and plopped the gil in the register. And then he smiled and that was his mistake.
        "Woah!! Hold it there, Reno!"
        The ex-Turk suddenly felt a pair of strong hands on his right arm as he lifted it in the beginnings of an uppercut to the bastard shopkeeper's jaw. Whoever that was was going to get a royal spanking, he growled to himself, whatever sonnuvabitch was holding him back was going to get what this fatass shopkeep had coming time ten plus two squared. He jerked around, snatching his arm away and was confronted with a face he hadn't seen in years.
        "Elena. . ?" he murmered, anger immediately fading. He didn't even hear the shopkeeper scurrying away from behind the counter.
        "Morning, Reno, "the woman returned cheerily, releasing his arm and smiling, "I heard Midgar went all to hell without me."
        "Elena." Reno said the name a little firmer now, remembering to breath, remembering that he didn't enjoy looking like an idiot. Frowning, he straightened his collar, and muttered casually, "Go get fucked, Elena."
        "Is that an offer?"
        As she stared, Reno grunted, got a hold of himself, got a hold of his carton of smokes, and hauled himself out of the tiny tobacco store and into Kalm's bustling morning streets, leaving the woman to eye his narrow back and frown. After a moment she sighed and ran out into the harsh sunlight after him. The air was a nearly tangible haze of steamy nastiness and the countless swarms of people that insisted upon knocking into Elena at every bend were nothing more than the flies buzzing in the filth. She mumbled unmentionables as, already far ahead of her, Reno paced quickly towards the inn, not bothering to be casual about the fact that he was ignoring her.
        "Reno! Renooooo! Don't brush me off like this!"
        Without turning around, he flipped a casual bird over his shoulder, then yanked the door to the Kalm Inn open and breezed inside. Elena dashed forward and caught the door before it could close, jogging into the lobby, sweating beneath her dress suit, glad she'd double-layered the deoderant that morning.
        "Miss Elena!"
        The voice was like a sob and belonged to Commander Ikari. The young man darted to her side the moment he spied her entering the tiny inn and from the look on his face, Elena thought he might start covering her with kisses. She turned away from him quickly to watch Reno trudging upstairs, still not bothering to give her a glance, and then tried to follow, but Ikari latched onto her arm and poured harsh whispers in her ear.
        "Thank God you've come. . . "he hissed, "But how did you know? President Reeve is gone, he left Mr. Reno in charge but everytime I ask him for orders he makes like he'll bludgeon me with that nightstick of his! I don't know what to do, there're papers to be signed, responsibilities to be taken, things to do, so many things and there's no one to give orders! Mr. Reno won't do anything but sit up there and rave!"
        "Sounds like Reno. . . "Elena breathed to herself, wiping her sweat-plastered blonde bangs from her forehead, "Ikari, I'll be down in a minute, I'll go talk to him."
        "Why are you here though, ma'am?" Ikari asked, looking slightly relieved but curious beyond belief. Elena hadn't worked for Shinra since the days of Meteor, when Ikari had been a peon little footsoldier pouring coffee for the Turks and brushing the sand from their shoes. "Was that your chopper I heard a few mintues ago? Is Wutai all right?"
        "Wutai's fine, "Elena breathed, taking a step towards the stairs, "And that's why I came. Something that dickhead pilot Highwind said stuck with me and's been bothering me since he left. So, here I am. And then I find out that Rude's gotten himself killed. Makes me wish I hadn't come."
        "It's sad, I know, ma'am, "Ikari muttered, eyes hard, "And there's nothing for it but to keep going. That's exactly what President Reeve told me. And then something about a train or, or something. . . I wish the President had been able to talk properly with Mr. Reno before he had to leave. . . "
        "So he is gone?"
        "Yes, ma'am, after Jenova. That creature's moved off --"
        "No!" Elena spat suddenly, shaking her head hard and making Ikari take a slight step backwards, "I don't want to know anything about it, I just want to find out why Reno isn't out doing his job. A Turk doesn't abandon Shinra."
        Ikari was about to mutter something about Elena being a hypocrite because she herself had abandoned the company after Meteor, but sensing her mounting fury, he wisely held his tongue.
        "Reno!" she hollared, resolution firm, leaving the pale commander to stare at her back as she stalked towards the stairs, "I know you can hear me up there! Don't hide from me, you sonnuvabitch! This is Elena! I know you better than your shrink! And I'll tear you apart if you try to hide from me and all of this!"
        There wasn't any reply but the harsh slam of a wooden door. And then a single gunshot. It echoed in the air and wouldn't die away, making Elena dart a trembling, anxious hand to her mouth.
        "Oh, my god. . . what is he doing?"
        "You don't think..?" Ikari looked to the woman and the both of them paled. It was so suddenly quiet upstairs. An uncaring set of fingers prodded Elena in the shoulder and she turned to see the Innkeeper standing and tapping his foot, fire in his eyes.
        "You Shinra?" he demanded, eyeing her suit, "If your coworker's blown his brains out up there, you'll be paying the cleaning bill. . . "
        Without a word of response, she darted up the stairs, her feet slipping out of her brand new creme-colored pumps and clattering behind her. Reno wouldn't do that, she told herself, Reno would never. It didn't matter how much he lost, Elena was certain that Reno just wasn't a quitter. For the few months she'd known he and Rude, she'd figured that much out. His guards, his job, his partner, his best friend. . . none of that would make him quit. Yet she couldn't slow her ascent, she couldn't make herself breathe properly. She was just so suddenly terrified.
        Panting, she halted at the door to the inn's rooms and reached a white hand out, fluttering her fingers over the cold doorknob. She heard Ikari reassuring the innkeeper downstairs, the commander's voice sure and confident despite the fear she'd seen in his face at the sound of that gunshot. She heard her heart pumping hot blood in her ears. But she couldn't hear anything behind this damned door.
        "Reno. . . "she called, turning the knob slowly, not breathing, praying she wouldn't see what she feared she'd see in the room beyond. The door parted from the wall with a meandering crack that never seemed to die. And when it did, much to Elena's ease, she was able to make out Reno's lankyness sprawled in the cubby space before the room's lone window, a fresh cigarette hanging from his lower lip, his drawn gun in his lap. From beneath strands of waving red hair, he watched his old friend give a shaky sigh of relief.
        "I was sitting here figgerin' this out, "he said lowly, frowning as she entered the room, "Two hundred cigs to a carton at five hundred gil a carton. . . that's almost three gil a smoke. Three gil . . . " he held up his smouldering fag and examined it carefully, features drawn. "For that much I could go down to Wall Market and get a bag of something a helluva lot more effective than nicotine from the pebble-pushers there, ya know that? Or at least, I coulda gone to Wall Market. . . not anymore. Not unless I wanna do a lot of digging."
        "What the heck was that gunshot?"
        Reno looked up, surprised at the question, even more surprised at the look of mixed relief and fury in Elena's hard blue eyes. He gestured off to a corner of the room carelessly and she saw a sizeable red and grey puddle there that used to be a rat.
        "Bugger kept me up all night. . . "he muttered, "Finally got a clean shot at 'im. Not bad aimin' for my left hand, eh?" Reno wriggled the hand in question towards her, waiting for a compliment. She only clenched her fists at her sides, digging her bright red nails into the palms of her hands. "What?" he questioned innocently. And then it hit him. And he laughed. "Hell, Elena. . . you didn't think I'd blown myself a new nostril, had ya? Hell. . . that's just silly."
        He laughed some more, letting the sounds ripple off his lips, then replaced the cigarette in his mouth and leaned back a bit, watching his former co-worker grow steadily angrier and angrier. He loved to make her mad. And Reno hadn't seen that lovely furious face of hers in how long. . . what, five years or so? Reno wasn't too sure, but he knew it'd been a long, long time. But he didn't really care. She hadn't called and neither had he. Clean break, easiest way to end it. Clean break from Shinra, clean break from the Turks, clean break from him and any memories of Tseng she associated with him.
        "Where's Reeve?" she finally demanded, locating her voice and aiming it in his face. She poked him in the chest with painful red fingernails.
        "I dunno, "he answered carelessly, "And I don't give a damn. I'm through with fighting the end of the world. Let it come, I say. And let it hurry."
        "End of the world. . . what kind of garbage is that? Is that what this is? Is-- I mean, what happened to Midgar, is that a sign?"
        "I dunno." Reno shrugged his shoulders, letting warm smoke drift from his nose and into his eyes, "But it's all gonna burn. Remember Jenova? Well, the bitch is back. She's the reason Rude's. . . well, ya know."
        "I heard it was poisoning or something. A cat?" Elena questioned softly. Her angered brows eased up as the hurt look returned to Reno's face. He shrugged again, tensing a bit.
        "Something like that. Something fuckin' stupid like that, yeah. Don't make no sense. None at all. Fuck it, I don't wanna talk about it."
        He stood violently from the window, ash spraying from the end of his smoke, and stalked across the room. He reached the opposite wall, kicked it harshly with the toe of his dress shoe, then turned and walked back and kicked the bit of wall under the window. Then he turned and repeated it. Pacing. Kicking. Swearing.
        "Before we went up there, we were at my place, the night before, ya know? And we talked and I said it would be her or me, her or me, ya know? But then Rude, like a jerk, like the fuckin' badass he is, he goes "or me". And I laughed, I thought he was being a fuckin' riot. But I didn't know. I didn't know that'd really happen. It's my fault, mine."
        "How do you figure that?" Elena demanded fiercely, crossing her arms, "I heard the story from one of the MPs, friend of mine. He told me what happened. There wasn't anything you could do. Reno, I understand if you're grieving but are you up here blaming yourself? That's ignorant, what's the point? You didn't do anything, Rude went up there because it was his job and he was getting paid for it. Hell, I never knew him that well, he never spoke more than two words at a time to me, to anyone but you really, but something tells me there's no other way he would've rather gone. He went out like a Turk, doing his job, fighting the opposition, protecting Shinra and Midgar and friends. That's really noble and you should be proud that you had a friend like that. I am."
        "What the hell do you know, Elena?" Reno snapped violently. He flung himself around and stepped quickly towards her, spitting in her face with smoky breath as he spoke, "Why don't you go back the hell to Wutai, eh? Go screw Yuffie, eh?"
        "That's a foul rumor."
        Reno cracked a smile and blew hair from his eyes.
        "You wanna know what they call you around Shinra?" he asked casually, "They call you traitor."
        "Don't double this conversation back around onto me, Reno. Don't try to guilt trip me to get the attention off you. You wanna know what I call you? I call you a fucking coward. Why did you abandon your President? Why aren't you with Reeve?"
        "Why aren't you with Yuffie?"
        "She sent me here, you ass! After hearing about Midgar she's worried, she wants to know what the deal is and how it may impact Wutai. Mayor Kisaragi, as much as Shinra would love to think it, isn't a total idiot."
        "Well then you can tell Miss Half-Idiot that she doesn't need to worry about Wutai, "Reno reassured with a dismissive wave of his hand, "'Cause it's all gonna go boom. And we pawns'll finally be outta our misery. Yee-friggin'-haw."
        "You're just givin' up? Not even going to try and avenge Rude? That's sick, Reno. What the hell's happened to you?"
        "Fuck off, Elena, "Reno sighed, approaching one of the room's rock hard beds and throwing himself down, "I don't need your mothering right now, alright? Just skeedaddle back to Wutai, tell Yuffie to start saying her prayers, and wait for it all to go. I can't tell you the sign to look for. I don't think it'll be a Meteor this time. I don't know what it'll be. Maybe the ground'll open up, the Planet'll implode. Maybe Chaos will just go from city to city, home to home, and systematically rip everything apart. Hell, who knows? It'll just have to be a surprise. One big final surprise to make everyone gasp before they're blown to bits. Hot damn, but I'm lookin' forward to it."
        "Doesn't being a Turk mean anything to you anymore? Protecting Shinra, protecting the President?"
        "Number one: I ain't a Turk no more. Number three: Shinra's deader than dead. And uh, Number eight: Reeve's a big boy. He can handle himself. Not that it matters. Ain't no one coming back alive and even if they do, they'll only be coming back to die once Jenova wins. Everyone keeps dying and there's a finite number of people. Planet's gotta start runnin' outta us eventually. And that's when the alien bitch'll be able to say checkmate finally. Yeah. After all us fucking little pawns are dead."
        Reno quit his pacing and looked beyond Elena's stiffly starched shoulder and out the window, running sober eyes over the view of Kalm's blue rooftops outside. "You ain't been here the past week. It's been hard as hell. People dying all over the place. Good people, ones worth a helluva lot more'n me. Death's been splattered thick in the seams of everything, swallowing everyone who tries to brush it away, fix things. . . "Reno frowned, and pulled his shades down over his eyes, "It's easy to ignore at first, you remember, don't you? You tried to ignore it when you first started for Shinra, I remember. But it started to get to ya after a while. Watching those people die when Meteor nearly hit. . . you had to leave the company after that. Because you couldn't fuckin' handle it no more. Now I. . . the casualties are hitting a little too close to home. I can't hide the losses in my bloodlust anymore. 'Cause. . . fate ain't letting me get my revenge. I'm scared to try for it anymore. Rude, Tifa and I, we went up to the Sixty-Eighth floor together, I went to get my revenge on that Chieko and on Jenova for killing Howard, killing my guards. And I just got swiped from again. Rude. . . got fuckin' plucked right outta my hand. I keep fighting and who knows what the hell'll get taken. . ? Reeve or Berk or Cloud or even Tifa. I can't handle another death happening with me standing by to watch. I feel like that Valentine guy must. Just standing idly by while things get ripped apart right before my eyes."
        "So you're scared?" Elena asked coldly, arms interlaced over her chest, "That's just great."
        "M'not scared, ya loopy broad. . . "
        "Well, it sure sounds like you are, Reno. You're scared of the risks of fighting. For a man who used to be a Turk to feel like that is hilarious. And very very sad."
        Reno turned her way, features drawn, scars stark against pale skin. Elena was sure his eyes were wet behind those damned dark concealing sunglasses. He gave a sigh and turned back to the window, his tired lanky arms hanging dead at his sides. "All this frigging talk of counters and opposites and yin and yang lately. . . "he muttered, crooked smile drooping over his lips, "Rude was my counter. We use t'joke about that. I was fire, he was ice, heh. Guess I'll just burn myself out now. Pretty damn lame I was so dependent on the lug, eh? It was easy to be that way with Rude though, I was sure he'd never be going anywhere, he was as predictable as the tides."
        "If you'd been the one to go first, he wouldn't be hanging around sulking, ya know that?"
        "If I'd gone first. . . " Reno muttered, voice faint with other thoughts, "That's how it shoulda been. I'm the one always jumping at things, drinkin' like a fish, smokin' like a chimney, about as healthy as a can of Crisco. He punched me the other night for it. He said he didn't want to start eating lunch alone. Now I'll be eating lunch alone."
        "Stop feeling sorry for yourself, "Elena insisted quietly, taking a few deep breaths to stifle sympathetic tears, "And be Reno again. Go help Reeve and your friends, or you really will be eating lunch alone. Ya bastard."
        "Help them. . . I don't even know where Reeve's dragged them all. It's pointless anyway, Elena, you haven't seen the things we're up against. Jenova. . . I don't even like to say that name anymore, it's worse'n any curse I know. And Chaos and Chieko and Cloud, I just. . . no one knows how to fight those things, those people. And Cloud wants us all dead and Chaos has a heart of stone and Chieko killed my goddamned best friend! Let Reeve scrabble till the last but I'm not so damned clueless as to keep ignoring the fuckin' signs! Armageddon is a word that gets thrown around a lot. It didn't phase me at first. Well now it is."
        "Okay, so now we've established that not only are you a coward, but you're a quitter too. I woulda rather had you shot yourself, Reno, than seen you like this. I'll bet Rude's disappointed as hell. I'll bet he's shaking his head and clucking his tongue and cursing himself for being friends with such a snakey coward as you for all these years. I'll talk with Reeve when he gets back, after he's disposed of what's threatening us. I'll have him fire your ass. I'll drag you to Wutai and you can work for me, I'll teach you how to be Reno of the Turks again. Because it seems you've forgotten. . . "
        "Why are you bein' like this? Like this after knowing all that's happened to me?" Reno shook his head, honestly at a loss. Was just an ounce of sympathy too much to ask for? Just a drop? Gods, Elena didn't even know where he was coming from, she didn't know what it was like to lose so much in so short a time. His laughs were all used up, his distracting banter was dry. There was just the knowledge that his best friend was dead, that he wouldn't be coming back. No one to joke with, no one to back him up when he argued with Reeve or Cloud. No one. A void in the world where Rude had been. And nothing to fill it with. That small fact, innocent and evil all at once, seared the outter edges of his control. He'd built it up again, just a bit, after losing it all in front of Reeve the night before, but he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to keep it strong. He would've liked to swing something hard and blunt at Elena's blonde head, shut her up, unleash his anger on something. But he couldn't. He couldn't. Weak as it was, the control was still there, the remnants of the cool Shinra bastard. So Reno bit at the insides of his mouth, he chewed his tongue, he wraggled the burnt butt of his cigarette between two trembling lips.
        "I'm going to go do your job, "Elena said suddenly, watching him with a keen intensity in her blue eyes, "Yuffie said I was to do what was needed as soon as I was sure Wutai was safe."
        "My job?" he spat, "What job? You mean manage the insolent little pricks wandering the streets? They don't know what's going on. . . let 'em keep wondering, let em suffer if it keeps em from thinking. Don't want a panic, ya know. I told Ikari something to that effect. Keep Midgar's forsaken suffering as long as it keeps 'em distracted. Nothing matters, it won't be long now. Something tells me that."
        "I'm not like you though, Reno, "Elena returned, moving towards the door, sick of the self-pity soaked into the atmosphere. It nauseated her. "I'm going to go help. I'm going to go help those poor people in the streets. I'm going to be Shinra again for a day. If we all die, there's nothing I can do about it. If Jenova or whatever the hell's threatening the Planet now really does acheive its aims, I'm helpless to stop it. I sat this fight out. And it's too late to get tagged in. But here you are, just sitting on your ass when you have the opportunity to go out and try to stop this! Do you know how many people out on the streets would kill for that chance? You've lost a lot and I won't be so cruel as to deny you that fact, but there're people out there who've lost a hell of a lot more. And there's nothing they can do about it. Because they're weak, they're common, they're nobodies. They just don't have the damn opportunity to strike out. But you. . . " Elena shook her head slowly, unable to understand it, "You're holed up here. Here. In an inn in some backwater town full of the damned. Do you want to die here, under this roof? Or do you want to die somewhere the sky can see you go? Can see you fighting till the end? You're a Turk, Reno, you'll always be a Turk, Shinra or no Shinra. Blue suit or black. And as a Turk, you know better than this."
        Elena poised her hand on the doorknob, anger, frustration, and grief sitting deep and heavy in her chest. Cid had been right. The Turks had needed her. Rude was dead and Reno was a wreck. And around them all, the very sky was crumbling.
        "I came back for you guys, ya know, "she whispered, hating herself the moment the words escaped her lips, "I mean, Yuffie made the suggestion, but I came back on my own. I just had a feeling, that same sort of feeling I had right before the phone rang that day Tseng died. Those womanly instincts you always mocked me for. They're more accurate than you'll ever know."
        Reno grunted in reply, his hands hidden in his pockets, his eyes on her easily with a barrier of black plastic over them. "You're not going to confess your love for me, are ya babe?" he asked, half a smile running over unshaven features. Elena scowled and punched him. "I mean, 'cause I'd rather have you say, "Reno, the last coupla years have been hell without gettin' to see your sweet face every evening. Please forgive my foolish pride and take me back! Take me now, you hunk of Turk, don't let the world end before I've been held in your arms!"" Reno snorted, then broke into heavy laughter at his own joke. Grinning wide at Elena's expression, he smacked her chummily on the shoulder, stumbling forward a step. "I woulda preferred that, ya know. I coulda just laughed in your face. But no, ya gotta come in here and guilt trip me, yell at me, and tell me I'm an asshole. Hell, it feels like the old days."
        "It is just like the old days. You giving me reasons to say the things I do." Elena turned the doorknob as Reno laughed again, preparing to stalk back to the bed, fling himself down and chainsmoke for a couple hours. He'd sit up here and wait for it, wait for whatever came: death or renewal or whatever. For Reeve's return or Jenova's, for the moment when he'd know just how little the Planet cared.
        The door came open and Elena's eyes narrowed, Reno's enfuriating attitude draining away as something sudden and different grabbed her attention. "Do you hear that?" she asked and the fiery-haired ex-Turk raised an eyebrow. She stepped out into the hallway, her lips half-parted with concentration, trying to make the sound out again.
        "Ikari's downstairs, he'll deal with it, "Reno said dismissively, turning away. But then he halted as the sound of breaking glass assaulted his ears. His and Elena's gazes met for an instant, eyes wide on both ends.
        "Get down!"
        The cry came from downstairs but Reno figured it was probably good advice. He pushed Elena to the ground than dove on top of her, just as the muffled roar of an explosion tore through the air. The rickety old wooden floor shook a bit beneath them under the impact of the blast, the walls creaking complaints, but then everything was still. Reno watched the dust motes floating before his eyes for a moment or two, tiny specks of gold glinting against the generally darker gloom of the second floor. But then Elena elbowed him and he climbed off her and to his feet, making for the stairs. He could hear things settling down below, and then saw the situation for himself upon clapping his feet in the lobby.
        "Mr. Reno!" Ikari caught sight of his superior suddenly standing there and relief washed over his face, "A bomb, sir! From outside. It came through the window."
        Reno coughed a bit at the kicked-up dust choking the air, absently hearing Elena clattering down the stairs behind him. Features drawn but curious, he surveyed the scant wreckage, running cool eyes over the foot wide hole in the middle of the lobby floor. "I'd hardly call that a bomb, "he muttered, "More like a firecracker. This come from outside, you say?"
        "Yes, sir!"
        Glass and chips of the plank floor crunching beneath his shoes, Reno stalked to the front window and glared outside. A clumping of citizens surrounded the building, ringing the place in with wide stares and grim frowns, belligerence thick in their features. The morning sun was bright behind them and Reno squinted to make out some of the faces, looking for familiar ones. Nothing.
        "Which one of you pricks did this?" he demanded, voice ringing loud in the empty air. He felt Elena's hand on his shoulder suddenly and knew she'd do everything she could to keep him anchored. But fuck anchors though, they weighed ya down.
        "I asked a question, ya ungrateful scum!" he hollared, running from the window and flinging the front door of the inn open. The same sea of faces. Faces pleading, hating, wondering why. They stuck in Reno's eyes like needles, made his hand go for his gun. A million faces, a million nameless strangers and what was he but one of them? A stranger who happened to have a gun and work for Shinra and bring home large paychecks. He was a stranger who'd lost his job, his office, his partner, his best friend. Lost the people who meant anything to him, lost his sense of humor, his frigging reason to keep going. Just a stranger to these people with his own set of difficulties. Those people, they had problems too, maybe worse than his, maybe not so bad. He didn't know them, they didn't know him and no one was more important than the other.
        "What d'you want from me?!" he screamed, stepping out onto the front porch of the old inn, gunarm loose at his side. His fingers gripped the handle so tight they made the pistol creak. Faces assaulted him, not understanding the question. So he repeated it. Then he repeated it again. "Shinra can't help you and I can't help you! Help yourselves! Don't make us the butt of yer frigging hatred! Don't throw your bombs our way! Reeve's out risking his life for you ungrateful pricks, show some respect!"
        "Shinra's the reason Midgar's gone!"
        A lone angry voice shouted the words out from the back of the crowd. Reno snapped his head around, eyes nearly closed they were slitted so hard. "No, "he hissed, "It was Jenova. . . Jenova. . . We. . . we're humans, right?"
        He got a couple of snickers from the crowd at that one though it wasn't a joke. He really needed to be reassured. His hooded eyes searched the faces, wanting to see something familiar. He turned back around to the inn and Elena was standing in the doorway, watching him like she might an uncaged panther: interest, caution, and awe playing alternately over her features. After he stared at her for a moment, she nodded, carefully.
        "We're all humans, Reno, "she assured, "Even when we don't act like it, it's somewhere inside of us."
        "Yeah. . . yeah, it is. So you hear that, people? We're all humans and from what I've seen we all share one common fuckin' enemy. I think if we all hate her hard enough, we can hate her right out of existance. Is hatred all you fuckers have?" The crowd didn't respond, growing steadily uneasy as the lunatic Shinra employee ran his unhinged eyes over them all. But Reno wouldn't put up with that feigned ignorance, he wanted an answer. Expression suddenly cool, he raised his gun and aimed it before him, right into the heart of the massing of disgruntled citizens. A few of them tried to push backwards, gasping, clawing to get out of such dangerous positions, but they were packed too closely together and had to content themselves with staring down the muzzle of Reno's upraised Glock. He moved his aim from right to left, targeting the random face, picking out bullseye shots between people's eyes. Elena watched him, an arm held out to prevent Ikari or any of the other Shinra brass from trying to dart outside and stop her fr