Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Dreams ❯ My Faithful Friend ( Chapter 47 )

Thanks to all readers and reviewers!

Hecate 19: I’m glad you liked it. Low point? Does that mean you didn’t like that particular turn of events or that it was just an unfortunate turn of plot? Who’s the second voice you ask? Hwa ha ha. Mmm, it’s not Jade Tiger or Ifrit but those are good guesses. Thanks!!!

ChessyKat: I understand what you’re saying with that. It was told from the limited POV of Vincent so that was why I did it that way. When you read Chapter 48, which recounts Sephiroth’s meeting with Lucrecia, you might better understand. I also show the conversation between Seph and Vincent there as well. I take no offence. I’m glad the tone was right. It took me a week to write that chapter because I wanted it to be perfect. I won’t say how many times I scrapped it and started over. Redux will be coming out soon (waiting on beta). Thanks!!

(Internal Voice)
‘Internal Response’

Chapter 47: My Faithful Friend

Archer was in a very awkward position… or perhaps awkward was too lenient of a word to use. Plainly put, he was between a rock and a very hard place. At the moment he was sitting in his home on his wonderful and expensive, leather couch with a beer in one hand and the TV across the way displaying the sports channel. Seemingly good position.

Except that ranting and raving as he paced back and forth across the floor in front of said television was his former lover, Cid Highwind.

On any given day, this would not be a bad occurrence, perhaps even fortunate given his recent understanding that he still cared for his ex-lover, and since he was said ex-lover’s friend, it became his task to help him in his time of need. Though Archer figured that Cid would go to Reeve first, and indeed he had, but the executive had been busy. It appeared not all was well between that married couple either. Trouble in paradise, so to speak.

Cid had sought Archer out because of that, needing somewhere to vent. However, the former ShinRa executive wasn’t certain of all the details, even after several conversations. This was mostly due to the fact that the pilot tended to curse when he was angry… curse so much that he forgot all normal language and nothing made sense. So far, Archer had learned that Vincent was gone on his own with Sephiroth and Zack –“‘those damn zombies” – and that Cid had not been allowed to come.

Of course, the fact that the gunman was going to go meet his ex-girlfriend, of all people, didn’t improve Cid’s mood in the slightest. Or so Kyle thought he understood, anyways.

Archer took another long drink of his beer and eyed the still fuming Cid Highwind. He had been ranting for two hours and was finally beginning to slow down. At a brief pause, when the pilot took a breath, Kyle chose to insert his two gil worth.

“Cid, you really ought to calm down.” It was the same mantra he had been repeating over and over, but as with all things concerning the Captain, his words went unheard unless they wanted to be.

In that instance, he and Vincent were much alike. Or so Archer had come to believe. He ended up hearing much of the story of the gunman’s past from Reeve. It was long, horrifying, and enough to make Kyle shiver where he stood. Still, to blame himself for things that he couldn’t prevent, Archer felt that Vincent was needlessly punishing himself.

And even though the pilot appeared extremely pissed, Archer knew that deep down he was actually worried, very worried. He feared losing Vincent again after just finding him. Kyle was one of the few people who understood Cid’s deep fear of losing people. It seemed everyone in his life had always left: his mother, his brother, Archer himself, and then Vincent when he had died… or as everyone else had believed, it was only Cid who thought he still lived.

Everyday Archer cursed himself for being another one on the list to hurt this seemingly strong man. Cid, for all his blustery anger, was a softie at heart and much of his ego and swagger was all a front. That could be blamed on the Captain’s father. They were still estranged as far as Archer knew. Cid never did relate the whole story just that after his mother died and his dad remarried, he had had to leave the house.

Shera must have seen that in Cid as well for her to put up with his constant cursing and yelling at her. She seemed to take it in stride, cheerfully whistling anytime he appeared to get angry with her. She was his one attempt at dating a female, for a while actually fixing his relationship with his father. Until Shera told him to stop pretending, and they were estranged once more. Perhaps that was why she dealt with his harshness. Like everyone else around Cid Highwind, she wanted to protect him though, he appeared to be able to do it himself. She was a remarkably perceptive girl that Shera.

And then, there was Archer himself and how he had only added to the Captain’s need to push everyone away without seeming to do so. In that, Cid and Vincent were much alike in that. However, whereas Vincent was cold and unfeeling, Cid was brash and loud, hoping that would keep everyone a safe distance.

Archer never really had a good reason for ending it with Cid, not unless one counted his jealousy. That his boyfriend, someone younger and less experienced, should get a promotion, a chance to fly into space… while he, the elder with the more knowledge, was still struggling to find a place in ShinRa had always hit him hard. It was a rotten thing to do, and he knew it, but he was human and male at that. The need for competition didn’t change just because he was gay… bi… whatever.

So he refused to go to Rocket Town with Cid… or even have a long distance relationship with him. He had given him some bull shit excuse, one he couldn’t even remember. He hoped that Cid would turn down the offer and stay with him, but he should have known better. To fly and see the stars was his biggest dream, and Archer never should have made him choose.

He kicked himself every day for that, for his supposed wisdom as the elder.

“I don’t even know why I bothered coming to you if you’re not going to listen to me.” Cid’s voice broke through his thoughts like a gun shot.

He blinked to clear away the reminiscing of times past and returned his attention to his ranting former lover, who know stood glaring at him, puffing furiously on a cigarette… another thing he had been continuously doing since he showed up on Kyle’s doorstep.

“I was remembering,” Archer explained with a wave of his hand. “But please continue. Last I recall was something along the lines of ‘that damn bitch and her damn &$^%# science’ mixed with some other more creative expletives.”

Sky-blue eyes blinked at him before he took another drag of his cigarette, slumped his shoulders in defeat and sat down at the couch, sinking wearily into the leather cushions. “You’re right,” he grumbled without sounding too angry. “I’m not making much sense, am I?”

“You never did,” Archer returned. “Not when you were angry, anyways. Though, I am not sure this is all anger.” He eyed Cid. “You really think he’s going to leave you?”

The pilot sighed and leaned back in the couch, closing his eyes as he plucked the cigarette from his mouth. “I don’t know,” he replied, idly flicking some ashes into the air. Archer held his tongue from pointing out the closeness of an ashtray, not wanting to aggravate Cid further, but he promised himself to bring it up at a later time. Instead, he tried to help Cid sort the mess he had gotten himself into.

“Did you even ask him why you were not allowed?” Archer was sure that the man had explained that somewhere, but between the curses and his own internal musings, he must have missed it.

Again, the pilot exhaled and rubbed anxiously at his ragged blond locks. “He said, ‘this has nothing to do with you’ and ‘you don’t have a place in my past.’” The cigarette returned to the mouth, more smoke filling the air.

“Hmm,” was Archer’s only response as he tossed Vincent’s words around in his head. He gleaned all the information he knew about the ex-Turk from his cranial cavity as he tried to figure out why Vincent that and then explain it to Cid so that the pilot would understand. Despite his own feelings, he knew that the gunman cared for Cid, and that with whatever he had gone to do, he planned to return to him.

Of course, this was why Archer was between a rock and a hard place. Every time he looked at the pilot, he was reminded of what he gave up, and it made him hurt and want to reclaim it… especially after seeing the pain Cid had recently gone through.

(My dragonet, I do not think such thoughts are a good thing,) Tiamat whispered to him. She had been listening to their entire conversation, despite his urging that she not. Damn curious demi-goddess.

(I heard that.)

Archer mentally snorted. ‘You were supposed to,’ he responded internally.

She clucked her tongue at him. (Do not change the subject, dearest heart. He came to you for help… not so you could rekindle old flames, so to speak.)

‘I’m not!’ he protested. ‘Just because I am thinking it, does not mean I’ll do it. In the long run, it would hurt him more.’

It was creepy how she could be in his mind and he could still feel her disbelieving stare. (I think you are misinterpreting your own feelings,) she explained quietly. (Sympathy is one thing, but this is an entirely different matter.)

Archer mentally glared and snubbed his nose at his anima. ‘You act like I’m going to pin him down and rape him or something.’

She shook her head, the action clear even though it was within his own head. (Do not be so dramatic, my hatchling. I never said anything of the sort.)

“Hmm? That’s the best you can say? Hmm?” muttered Cid, shaking his head and bringing Archer out of his internal conversation. “Here, I come to you for help in my hour of need because ShinRa boy and his ‘wife’ are having difficulties, and you ignore me! I’d have been better off drowning my sorrows in alcohol with Barret!”

Archer snorted, giving Cid a baleful look. “Really, Cid, is it that serious?” he questioned with a hint of teasing. He changed his tone, however, at the mention of Reeve and Reno. “What’s going on with Reeve?”

The pilot shrugged, leaning forward to grab his beer and taking a deep swig of it, not that alcohol was what he needed at the moment. “I’m not quite sure. I don’t even think Reno knows. He just says that ‘Reeve is acting odd, yo. Don’t know what to make of it, ya know?’” Cid mimicked the red-haired Turk’s speech so perfectly that Archer had to contain a small burst of laughter, knowing it was not the moment for it.

Instead, he settled for a non-definitive “hmm.”

“Again with the ‘hmm’. Would you let me know when you have anything damn useful to say?”

Archer spread his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m not sure what you want from me, Cid. I don’t have all the answers. If I did… well, things would be quite different, and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

(Archer.) Her tone was a warning as she dragged out the syllables of his name. But he ignored her.

Cid blinked then looked at Archer out of the corner of his eyes, taking another swig of his beer before replying, “Yeah, you’re right.” He paused and an awkward tension filled the room, one that the former executive cursed himself thoroughly for.

Why was it he was always screwing things up with Cid?

Tiamat clucked her tongue at him again, chastising more thoroughly than he could do so himself. (You mortals never learn, do you? I suppose I shall let you dig yourself out of this one.)

‘Thanks ever so much for your help,’ replied the engineer dryly.

After a moment of intense silence, Archer kicked himself mentally. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

But Cid shook his head, already rising to his feet. “No, I’m the one that’s fuckin’ sorry. I never should have made you listen to me. Not concerning this.” He gulped down the last of his beer. “I’ll just be leaving now.”

“No, wait,” interrupted Archer, shaking his head and inwardly thoroughly cursing. “We are friends. That’s more important to me.” Cid glanced back at him, over his shoulder with a strange look in his eye that the former executive wasn’t sure if he could identify. “I’m sorry… I’m just… just-“

“Just what?” Now, he was curious, raising a brow as he shifted his weight.

The engineer felt himself flush from the tips of his goatee to his hairline. Unhappy with that turn in his demeanor, he settled for skirting around the truth. Now was not the time to be revealing the topsy-turvy feeling that had settled in his heart.

“Just being an idiot,” Archer snapped. “Sit down.”

Cid grinned as he plopped back down. “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you admit you were an idiot,” he teased.

Kyle sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Is that the way you treat someone who’s only trying to help?”

“Help? The only thing you’ve done is say ‘hmm.’”

“And you are being remarkably flexible in your emotions,” commented the amethyst-eyed man. “One moment you’re angry, then you’re curious, and now, you are teasing me. One might think you were pregnant, Cid.”

That of course, caused the pilot to begin spluttering his denial, mixed in with a few choice curse words as was typical Cid behavior. But at least he was no longer furious and that shadow of worry was gone from his eyes. He was still concerned, deep under the surface, his heart worrying for what Vincent was going to do and if he was going to return. But at least now, he was more like himself.

As they continued to talk, leading into other topics, none of which concerned the absent ex-Turk and former ShinRa soldiers. It was almost like old times before everything was ruined by Archer’s jealousy and Cid’s promotion. The engineer felt he had his friend back once again, and it was a good feeling, one that soothed his loneliness.

Perhaps Tiamat was right, though he was loathe to admit it to her. She would preen herself if he ever said such a thing, but he had to acknowledge the truth in her words. He was envious of the love that was shared between Reeve and Reno, despite their arguing. And even that he could see between Vincent and Cid… the kind of love that transversed death.

Who was he to stand in between that?

Like Vincent had gone to settle his past, that was where Archer belonged, romantically anyways. He was of Cid’s past, the only room he had in the future of the pilot was as a friend. He could see that now.

(Finally, you have learned some sense, my dragonet. Yet, do not fret, my dearest hatchling. I am certain that there is someone for you as well. It is the way of mortals; this ‘soul mate’ that they always speak of.)

He smiled inwardly. ‘Like your Seiryu is to you, dear Tiamat?’

(Yes, like my Seiryu.) She paused before laughing lightly. (Does this mean there will be no more pathetic attempts at broodiness?)

‘I will throw one in every now and then, just to keep you entertained,’ he said with a grin before returning his concentration to the conversation with Cid, lest he be yelled at for not paying him attention once more.

---

It was tranquil, almost eerily so. There was the quiet whirr of the specimen cooler, the gentle hum of the continuously running machines, and both were soft noises of a well run laboratory. Bright, florescent lights illuminated every inch of metal counter and glinted off the clean glass beakers, vials, and syringes. It was a nearly pristine room: white walls, white tiles, the uniformity of it all broken only by the lab’s two occupants.

Sitting on a stool, hunched over a microscope with a pair of thin glasses perched on the tip of her nose, Elena seemed every bit the science nerd as she peered at the object under the lens. The small and thin rectangular piece of metal had captured her curiosity from the moment she first found it on the dead Torama-clone. Beside her, perched on a stool of his own with a pen firmly clenched between his teeth, nibbling absentmindedly, was Tseng. He was flipping through a reference notebook, attempting to help identify the mysterious object.

It was a quiet, almost peaceful moment.

Elena sighed heavily as she sat back from the microscope, removing her glasses with one hand to rub tiredly at her eyes with the other. “It’s like nothing I’ve seen before,” she stated irritably. “If I didn’t know for sure he was dead, I’d say it has the stamp of Hojo all over it.”

Tseng closed the book with a snap, idly drumming his fingers on the vinyl cover as he removed the well-chewed pen with the other hand. “As near as I can tell, it is a bio chip… but not one of the ones we have listed or patented. This is something new altogether.”

“But why place something that obviously sophisticated on an animal?” questioned Elena as she slid off the stool, turning to face a small, metal shelf behind her. Lines of reference material were before her, and her eyes roamed over the titles, wondering which they should try next.

Her commander and she had been working tirelessly all day to identify the chip and its purpose. They had the time now since their charges, Sephiroth and Zack, had gone somewhere with Vincent. They hadn’t really explained why, and Tseng had only known because an angry Cid had come looking for Archer since Reeve was busy. The pilot hadn’t been much help in clarifying matters, only cursing about the “damn fucking past” and “that traitorous bitch.” Honestly, a fuming Cid made very little sense.

It was two days after setting out to find Balaam and not much had actually gotten done. No one acted with urgency, as if the demi-god was just going to show himself. Or perhaps that was just Tseng’s restlessness speaking. He had been spending far too much time idle, and the lack of action irritated him.

“My question is not why…. but who?” Tseng added, sliding over to look at the chip beneath the lens. He zoomed in on one of the tiny culprits, one that seemed distinctly out of place. The use for the shiny, metallic-blue circuit was not one that he could identify. It curled around the edge of the chip, slipping between the two wafers.

Elena pursed her lips in thought, fingers skimming over the binders in front of her. “Someone working for Balaam perhaps. And on a Torama-clone, a mutated monster… someone of Hojo’s league? An assistant we didn’t know of, maybe?”

“Hmm,” Tseng replied in thought, reaching for a miniature knife to slice delicately at the chip. effectively separating the two sections. Just as he had surmised… it had a thought converter. Yet, last he heard Hojo hadn’t perfected that technology, and his wife had taken… over…
Tseng groaned, mentally slapping himself in the forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot about her,” he uttered, annoyed with himself. “Of course, it has the mark of Hojo… because a Hojo designed it.”

The blonde frowned, glancing at him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

The Wutaiian leaned back and twisted around on his stool so that he could speak directly to her. “Alice Hojo,” he explained, “not a very attractive woman but as mad and sadistic as her late husband, perhaps even more so. She went relatively unnoticed in ShinRa R&D until Dr. Hojo learned of her endeavors in bio science. Needless to say, it was love at first sight.”

Elena couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of anyone wanting to wed Hojo. To do such things to his own son, to humans in general, the man was a monster in every sense of the word. And his newest wife was just as sadistic… the thought spelled trouble for them all. Could there be another Sephiroth-like threat out there?

“But how did she get mixed up with Balaam?” Elena questioned, her brow furrowed. “If indeed they are working together.”

“I am certain of it. There is too much coincidence for it to be anything less, nor would it surprise if Balaam in his non-corporeal state sought her out, knowing fully her capabilities and expertise.” Tseng sighed, massaging his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “But why would they need control chips for animals already under their direction?”

“Maybe they were just test subjects?” Elena suggested. “Though, I can’t imagine what Balaam has that needs controlling… unless he plans to kidnap some of us or something.”

Tseng shook his head. “I do not think that is the case. It is not Balaam’s style. Still, I cannot help but wonder what foul plan he has concocted.”

Elena gave up on the texts then and turned back around, her stomach growling loudly, announcing her hunger. She hadn’t eaten anything since they had begun the long, tedious identification process, and her belly sought to remind her of this and rather vocally. She sniffed and rubbed her stomach, looking hopefully at Tseng.

The Wutaiian smiled faintly and slid off the stool with his own unique grace that often made the somewhat clumsy blonde jealous. “I suppose we are deserving of a break,” he commented mildly. “To the lunchroom then.”

Elena made a face of disgust. “Why don’t we just order in? The cooking has yet to improve in the cafeteria, despite the change in management.”

Tseng waved a hand of dismissal, already heading for the door. “Most places have been destroyed, and those not are so busy we would have a long wait. I am too hungry for that.”

“So you are human after all,” teased Elena. “For a while you had us all thinking you were a machine.” She laughed as she followed her commander, clicking the lights off and shutting the door to the laboratory. It locked behind her with a faint snap.

Tseng chuckled mildly. “That was a rumor started by Reno when I first assumed command. He was convinced only a robot could work as much as I.”

Elena’s expression sobered. “He did have a point. You work far more than a normal person. When was the last time you had fun?”

“Fun?” The Turk commander blinked. “I’m not sure that word has ever been a part of my vocabulary.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. You’re still young, Tseng, and despite the world gone to shit, you need to learn how to live.” She smiled secretively, a move that he caught out the corner of his eye.

He answered her quickly, cutting off the suggestion before she could even voice it. There was much that Elena didn’t understand despite their relative closeness. And her continued urging could not – would not – make it occur any quicker.

“I know what you are thinking,” he interrupted smoothly, “but it is best if you disregard such thoughts. Besides, I have never seen or heard you claim to be attached.”

Elena grinned at a passerby even as she waved dismissively. “I like to keep my options open. I’ve not yet met someone who can stay at my pace.” She turned into the elevator, quickly hitting the button for the second floor as Tseng edged in beside her. Elena tried her best to ignore the annoying elevator music as the doors slid shut, trapping them inside.

This time it was an annoying, chipper island beat. The soundtrack was a mix of flutes, percussion, and xylophone with upbeat background vocals in the home language of Mideel. Therefore, she couldn’t understand a word of it. The music was far too happy for her, inevitably grating her nerves.

Reno would love it.

Tseng, however, hated it. “Remind me to speak with Reeve about that nonsense,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation with one hand as he gestured towards the speakers with the other. They descended four floors rather quickly, the elevator ceasing its movement with a low dong and releasing its passengers into the hall where the smell of broiled gysahl greens attacked their senses.
Elena wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Are you sure you don’t want to order in?” she questioned as they neared the lunchroom.

Tseng’s nose twitched. “It will be good for you, Elena. Besides, I am certain I detect the flavor of fresh apple pie beneath the greens.”

The blonde’s demeanor brightened considerably. Apple pie just happened to be her favorite dessert. And though the cooks screwed up everything else, they always managed to perfect their pie. It was an intriguing mystery.

“Alright then,” she grumbled playfully. “You have convinced me.” With that, they swiped their identification/employee cards at the front register and entered Neo-ShinRa’s lunchroom. It was just before the snack time rush, so the cafeteria was almost deserted.

“What do you make of them leaving?” Elena questioned as they moved around the hot bars, selecting their food. The blonde had already procured three slices of pie and wasn’t sure if she was going to choose anything else.

For a moment, Tseng was silent as he pondered her topic change. He had to fight away a creeping blush when he realized that she was again leading him towards finding a lover and a certain one in black leather at that. He had the feeling his subordinate was a romantic at heart, even if she did pretend to be all tough.

“What do you suppose the big secret is?” she continued, curiosity imbued in her tone and features.

Tseng elegantly shrugged as they made their way to a table well out of earshot of the few other patrons. Elena could be a rather loud blabbermouth at times.

“After Vincent’s visit yesterday, I attempted to get into his files,” the Turk commander responded as he picked up a fork. “But they were password protected by one Euphraim Hojo. I have got Sion (1) trying to decode it right now. Sephiroth’s file had the same mark.”

Elena frowned, fork poised over her apple pie… the only thing she had decided to get other than a glass of iced tea. “What secret did Hojo want to hide so desperately? And what does he have to do with Valentine?”

“I do not know,” Tseng admitted. “However, I have the feeling that like everything of Hojo’s, the dark will be thrust into the light with all it’s gruesome and macabre truth.” His words had a somber tone.

“And what of Sephiroth? Do you think we can trust him?”

Tseng sighed. “My intuition says yes… but my practicality says no. The change in hair color helps, but still…” He paused, mind reliving his near death experience as he had every time he thought of the former General.

“When you see him, you remember then, not the man he is now,” Elena finished for him, quite perceptively. She munched on her pie thoughtfully. “The wonder idiots probably know you better than I do, boss, but I can’t help but think it’s just an excuse.” Brown eyes locked with his own. “The same way you hide from your anima and the same reason you try to detach yourself from everyone.”

The Wutaiian sighed but did not respond. He did not like the turn the conversation was taking. He hated it when Elena decided to be intuitive and push her psychological nonsense on him. She tended to think she knew him better than he understood himself. Never mind that half the time she was right… it still irked him.

“You’re afraid, boss. Which is understandable… but it’s no way to live your life,” she finished, calmly returning to her half-devoured pie.

Tseng pulled his lips between his teeth and bit down nearly drawing blood. “I am not afraid,” he countered defiantly. Yet, he couldn’t find another reason to give her. And so he fell silent once more.

Brown eyes gazed at him steadily. “I’m only telling you this because I care, Tseng. Perhaps I have gotten over that infatuation with you, and much of it stems from that, but I do want to see you in some semblance of happiness. And though I hate the man for what he claims his ‘body’ and not his ‘mind’ did, if he’s what you need than I won’t fault you for it.” She lowered her voice, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “It’s not a weakness to want something, Tseng. It only makes you human.”

Silver eyes narrowed, her words striking out at him like bullets to a shield. Picking, prodding, poking to draw him out, encouraging him to accept things he could not… or was it would not?

Gah.

Now, he was even second-guessing his own decisions. And in his moment of weakness, that damned voice sought to break through again, though this time it gently cajoled rather than forcefully trying to get past his mental wall. His mind pounded with the subtle suggestions, and without realizing it, he grimaced and put a hand to his head, an attempt to forestall the coming ache.

Instantly, her fork was done on her plate, and she was half-rising from her feet out of concern.

“Tseng?”

The Turk forced himself to calm, body nearly shaking with the exertion of blocking the voices out… always hindering, never allowing. Why was he so afraid? Why couldn’t he just accept them and listen? And why was he allowing his past to affect his future?

“I am fine, Elena,” he bit out, though he rose from his seat in the same moment, leaving his food practically untouched. He urged his eyes to open, bringing down his hand and schooling his face into it’s normal exterior, calm but dangerous. “Finish your pie,” he assured her. “I will be waiting back in the laboratory. I just had an idea.” The lie slipped easily from his lips due to too many years practice with it. Hiding his voices from Hojo, hiding the ghosts from those around him.

Brown eyes blinked but she did not deny his words. “Alright, Tseng. I’ll be just another minute.”

Without another word, Tseng turned from the table, leaving his plate behind as he did so and exiting from the lunchroom. Behind him, Elena watched his exit with curious and confused eyes, concern for him etched deeply into her features.

----

A/N: So that was a… strange chapter, to say the least. Not quite certain I really knew where it was going. Oh well. It did; however, lead me into a brilliant work of plot-moving!

Pronounced ‘Shee-on’

Review please! Feed my hungry beta!