Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Good Doctor's Plan ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: RakuenGaki 
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Drama / Romance / Thriller / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.24.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 137 | Status: Work In Progress
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Drama / Romance / Thriller / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.24.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 137 | Status: Work In Progress
A/N: Yo! Raku here! Thanks for reading guys and please tell me what you think ok? I'll update regardless but reviews make me happy! Enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: HA! I wish I owned it.
Chapter 1
All he did was sleep now. His eyes were almost always closed, pale yellow lashes laying unmoving on his cheekbones, eyelids still, pupils unresponsive to light. He’d shift every now and then, as though trying to get comfortable though he never moved to outside stimulus anymore. He’d run his fingers through his soft hair slowly, massaging the scalp every now and then, getting the tangles out as best he could. His fingers would trace delicately over the fine bones of his face, wondering what it would look like if he was awake and active, the sun glinting in those beautiful sapphires, pale lips stretched into a smile, delicate seeming hands waving through the air as he talked.
Occasionally, his eyes would open but he’d never move during that time. He’d be like a child’s doll, fully pose able but cold, lifeless. The “doctors” would come then, two or three brutes in tow to hold him back as they took his precious little kitten away, ignoring his screaming and cursing, his struggles to rip the kitten from them to hide him, protect him.
They’d ignore him, taking his kitten from him, laying him on a gurney while the brutes held him, an assistant shoving a needle into the first available vein and injecting the cursed sedative into him. When he went limp, they’d let him go, leave him on the cold white floor and he’d be forced to watch the door close behind them. It would be a long, long time before he’d get his kitten back. He’d awaken many hours later to see that they had tucked him in bed, away from him, hooked up to monitors and leads, even paler and thinner and more fragile than before. His kitten didn’t even reach out for him anymore.
At first, he’d been perfectly lively, scared out of his mind, depressed, tired or hurting from their torture, but lively. In their down time, as they’d shared a cell, they had slowly bonded, the boy turning into his companion, then his comforter when the “doctors’” attentions would turn to him, and then finally, his precious kitten, who’d always curl up in his arms when he was scared, tired or hurting. His kitten would always reach for him after he woke up and saw him in his bed, attached to those monitors and leads, delicate little fingers reaching out to him, curling tightly around his own as they wove their fingers together.
He, of course, was used to scientists and their prodding, their clinical and impersonal way of dealing with their subjects. He had been so very used to it. His kitten, however, who had grown up running through the forests around his mountain village, doing chores for his mother, dreaming of becoming a hero, bright eyed and full of life, was not used to this handling. At least, he hadn’t been. Before they broke him, made it so that all he did was sleep. He wasn’t even sure if there was anything left of his kitten now, if the “doctors” had stripped him of everything in their attempts to complete whatever experiment they wished to complete. His part in whatever experiments they were conducting was over. They hadn’t come for him in what felt like weeks or even months, all their attention focused on his precious, broken, sleeping little kitten.
Gently, he tucked his kitten’s head under his chin, wrapping his arms tight around him, burying his nose in his bright hair and refused to let go as the brutes appeared, their hands grabbing and tugging at his arms. They were all saying something, the “doctors” talking amongst themselves, waiting as the brutes tried to “encourage” him to let go of his little kitten. He would not give him up. Not this time. They could try all they liked, he would not let go! His kitten was his! Not their little plaything or specimen! He was his! A tightness appeared in his throat as the needle slid into his arm, his body soon going limp, the frail body of his little kitten being taken from him. He watched through damp eyes as they placed him on the gurney, the “doctors” swarming over him like vultures at a feast, wheeling him from the room, the door closing soundlessly behind them.
He lay in silence for a long moment, staring at that fucking door. He hated that door. He hated it with a passion. What he wouldn’t give for even an ounce of his strength back, just enough so that he could launch a few fire balls to burn that fucking door down. Then he’d chase after those sick bastards, tearing through them and taking his kitten away from them. His chin wobbled, upper lip twitching as he continued to stare for a moment longer before he turned, resting his head in the opposite direction of that door, hiding his face from the cameras.
They would not get the satisfaction of seeing another little shard of his heart break off and fall into the oblivion below. The tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes were forcibly shoved back and into a heavy trunk where the tremors and screams could keep them company. He would not give them that satisfaction, oh no. The only satisfaction they would receive was when he was released from here and he granted them the satisfaction of a slow, painful death, the only kind of death they deserved. Oh yes, that is what they would receive. It was that comforting thought running through his mind, dragging up millions upon millions of ideas to kill each and every one of those “doctors” that lulled him into the sedative induced sleep.
~*~
Darkness greeted him when he awoke many hours later. He had never seen darkness in this room, the bright fluorescents always shining harshly down upon them. It made him worry. Darkness meant that something might have gone wrong with his kitten and that he may be sensitive to light. He might have been forgotten, Kitten’s latest trials going well and he was discarded as useless. The power may have gone out to this block of the complex. Oh dear sweet Gaia, please let the power still be humming, the back generators would surely kick in soon for his kitten’s monitors and support machines depended on that power! By sheer force of will, he pulled himself up into a sitting position, eyes quickly scanning the shadows for something, anything. His mind quickly concluded that he was alone in the room, his kitten’s form missing from either of the beds. He didn’t know if he should be happy or sad about that.
Gritting his teeth, he forced his body to move, forced his shaking legs to still and strengthen enough to hold him up without the wall to brace him as he took first one step, then another and another until he was moving easily across the floor, fingers reaching out and gripping the doorframe. Carefully, he ran his fingers along the door, looking for any weak points what so ever, any cracks that could help him tear the door open. The door was, of course, as smooth as ever and locked from the outside but he would not allow that to stop him. Snarling, he curled his fingers into a fist and drew his right arm back, counting to three mentally in his head before slamming his hand into the door. Once, twice, three times, the dent growing larger and larger as he pounded away at it. Four, five tries and the door bent enough such that he could grab the right side of it and force it open just enough so that his skinny frame could slip through.
The light in the hallway was pale, the emergency lights on the floor casting deep shadows along the walls and high ceiling. Well, that was one good thing, he guessed. This place did have a backup power supply which had indeed kicked in so his little kitten must be as safe as could be. Carefully, he moved down the center of the hallway, his bare feet not making a sound on the cold metal floor, the lights surely casting shadows on each side of his body as he moved. That was fine. The more intimidating he looked the better, that way if he came upon any scientists or brutes, they’d hesitate long enough for him to rip their bowls from their chests and shove them down their throats before they could even properly register what it was coming towards them. He allowed a chuckle to escape his throat and echo faintly in the hall at that lovely little morsel of a thought. He almost hoped he would run into someone, just so he could fulfill it.
Moving quickly and silently down the maze of corridors, he followed the familiar path to the central lab, the lights slowly growing brighter and brighter the closer he got. His movements slowed, his body crouching lower to the ground as he approached the open doorway, voices he didn’t recognize echoing from the cavernous room into the hallway. Carefully, he moved through the doorway and quickly hid behind some hulking machine, the green glow of mako seen from the corner of his eye and perhaps casting a sickly shadow over his face. Perfect. People were indeed moving around the room, perhaps three quarters of them in military uniform while half of the others were clearly doctors, the others some type of researchers perhaps. Talking, shifting feet, typing keys and paranoia made up the atmosphere of the room, everyone casting glances to each corner in case something decided to jump out at them. The only thing that would be jumping out at them was him.
The shadows became his friends as he moved through them, each shift of his body carefully silent, his feet leading him around the room, eyes flickering to try and catch a glimpse of his kitten. A flash of silver caught his eye causing him to quickly tuck himself into the narrow spot between a bank of blank monitors and the wall. The silver, as he had suspected, was the same liquid curtain his dear old friend had had since he could remember, the river flowing down his back and moving in a glittering waterfall as he turned his head this way and that. It was very distracting. Shaking himself quickly, he looked around his friend, trying to see if his constant companion was glued to his hip like always. He was. The pair was standing with two medics bent over a gurney, the silver haired General’s hands holding down a pair of legs, the medics checking over the rest of the body and the puppy’s fingers combing through the thick blonde hair of his precious kitten.
Rage shot through him, an inferno growing in the pit of his stomach and racing like wild fire through his veins. His fingers twitched, itching to rip the insolent puppy’s fingers from his kitten and shove them through his chest. His teeth groaned as he ground them together, the only part of his body that he allowed to move as he continued to watch the medics fuss over his kitten, the Silver General’s hands tightening on the boy’s legs as they began to shift and convulse. The medics began shouting orders, some rushing over to hold the boy down as the convulsions got worse and worse, his body nearly lifting from the table. He could hear the puppy’s babbling rising over the shouts and the boy’s thumping against the table. The rage in him began to glow brighter before finally he could take no more and he rushed forward, fingers curling around the puppy’s wrist and yanking the hand from his kitten’s hair, his own fingers burying themselves in the thick locks.
“You have exactly five seconds to get your filthy hands off of him before you’ll need new prosthetics,” he snarled. Surprise and shock rippled through the faces of those bent over his kitten, grips loosening with it, acid green eyes coming up to meet his own. Those eyes were as cool as ever, staring right back into his own, challenging him to let go or disappear as the figment he no doubt thought he was.
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” he snarled again, his other hand gripping his kitten’s left bicep in preparation of pulling him off the table and away from them. Absently, he noticed that the convulsions had lessened and become more concentrated around his legs, almost as if his kitten were trying to kick the General’s hands away. The air around him changed, a movement to the side of him catching his attention. Before the fist could meet with his jaw, he sent his own right hook at the puppy, catching him in the nose and sending him sprawling back on the floor, blood gushing from the broken feature. The medics, the fucking cowards, quickly took the message to heart, their hands releasing his kitten and quickly backing away, one going to the puppy’s side in an attempt to heal him. The General, however, remained where he was, hands like vices around the boy’s kicking legs, showing no signs of letting him go despite the act of violence.
“Genesis,” he said, voice smooth and hinting a warning.
“I will speak with you only when you get your greasy hands off of him!” he returned, hands curling around both his kitten’s arms. Cool green eyes seemed to regard him for a long moment, seemingly testing his resolve, before his fingers slowly loosened enough that he could pull his kitten away from him and move to the other side of the room, tucking into the space he had previously occupied, his now calm kitten curled protectively into his embrace. Weaving his fingers into the boy’s hair, he watched those in the room, many of them still stunned, one of the cursing up a storm when the medic reset and cured his nose and the last watching him, the same impassiveness on his face.
“The bloody fuck?!” cried the puppy, jumping to his feet, wiping the blood from his face and glaring pure hatred at him.
“Let him go, you freak!”
“Take one step closer, puppy, and you will be meeting your precious mentor in the life stream sooner than you can blink.”
“Zack, stand down.” The puppy paused, fingers curled around the hilt of the big sword on his back, eyes casting a quick confused glance at his General.
“Seph—“
“Stand. Down.” He said, eyes not leaving Genesis and his charge. Reluctantly, the puppy uncurled his fingers and turned back to him, expression thoroughly displeased with his superior’s order but following it anyway. With a snort, he turned his gaze away from them, tucking himself and his kitten further into the little space and combing his fingers through his hair, arm tightening around the boy’s waist. His kitten let out a long breath, muscles relaxing and body sinking into his protective embrace, no doubt settling into sleep with his protector watching over him. He took comfort in that and the fact that he could see no bruises, cuts or burns on his kitten’s pale flesh. Good. Burying his nose into the blonde spikes, he stroked a hand through the boy’s hair, rage dissipating from his system as his gaze drifted across the room again, taking in the fact that it was just the medics, researchers and army personnel in the room.
His eyes caught the satisfying sight of a few corpses scattered about, the “doctors” apparently meeting with the life stream as green tendrils drifted up from their bodies, the forms slowly disintegrating into nothing more than a faint thought soon to be forgotten. That settled a little more of his rage, for the moment at least and he turned his gaze away from the disappearing bodies and to the pacing puppy and his old friend. He didn’t know if they were going to be safe with these two and their little entourage, his fragile kitten especially but he didn’t let the paranoia show in his expression, nor did he let its little fingers dig too deeply into him. With his kitten safely tucked in his arms, he figured that he could afford not to worry too much about them, for now at least.
Disclaimer: HA! I wish I owned it.
Chapter 1
All he did was sleep now. His eyes were almost always closed, pale yellow lashes laying unmoving on his cheekbones, eyelids still, pupils unresponsive to light. He’d shift every now and then, as though trying to get comfortable though he never moved to outside stimulus anymore. He’d run his fingers through his soft hair slowly, massaging the scalp every now and then, getting the tangles out as best he could. His fingers would trace delicately over the fine bones of his face, wondering what it would look like if he was awake and active, the sun glinting in those beautiful sapphires, pale lips stretched into a smile, delicate seeming hands waving through the air as he talked.
Occasionally, his eyes would open but he’d never move during that time. He’d be like a child’s doll, fully pose able but cold, lifeless. The “doctors” would come then, two or three brutes in tow to hold him back as they took his precious little kitten away, ignoring his screaming and cursing, his struggles to rip the kitten from them to hide him, protect him.
They’d ignore him, taking his kitten from him, laying him on a gurney while the brutes held him, an assistant shoving a needle into the first available vein and injecting the cursed sedative into him. When he went limp, they’d let him go, leave him on the cold white floor and he’d be forced to watch the door close behind them. It would be a long, long time before he’d get his kitten back. He’d awaken many hours later to see that they had tucked him in bed, away from him, hooked up to monitors and leads, even paler and thinner and more fragile than before. His kitten didn’t even reach out for him anymore.
At first, he’d been perfectly lively, scared out of his mind, depressed, tired or hurting from their torture, but lively. In their down time, as they’d shared a cell, they had slowly bonded, the boy turning into his companion, then his comforter when the “doctors’” attentions would turn to him, and then finally, his precious kitten, who’d always curl up in his arms when he was scared, tired or hurting. His kitten would always reach for him after he woke up and saw him in his bed, attached to those monitors and leads, delicate little fingers reaching out to him, curling tightly around his own as they wove their fingers together.
He, of course, was used to scientists and their prodding, their clinical and impersonal way of dealing with their subjects. He had been so very used to it. His kitten, however, who had grown up running through the forests around his mountain village, doing chores for his mother, dreaming of becoming a hero, bright eyed and full of life, was not used to this handling. At least, he hadn’t been. Before they broke him, made it so that all he did was sleep. He wasn’t even sure if there was anything left of his kitten now, if the “doctors” had stripped him of everything in their attempts to complete whatever experiment they wished to complete. His part in whatever experiments they were conducting was over. They hadn’t come for him in what felt like weeks or even months, all their attention focused on his precious, broken, sleeping little kitten.
Gently, he tucked his kitten’s head under his chin, wrapping his arms tight around him, burying his nose in his bright hair and refused to let go as the brutes appeared, their hands grabbing and tugging at his arms. They were all saying something, the “doctors” talking amongst themselves, waiting as the brutes tried to “encourage” him to let go of his little kitten. He would not give him up. Not this time. They could try all they liked, he would not let go! His kitten was his! Not their little plaything or specimen! He was his! A tightness appeared in his throat as the needle slid into his arm, his body soon going limp, the frail body of his little kitten being taken from him. He watched through damp eyes as they placed him on the gurney, the “doctors” swarming over him like vultures at a feast, wheeling him from the room, the door closing soundlessly behind them.
He lay in silence for a long moment, staring at that fucking door. He hated that door. He hated it with a passion. What he wouldn’t give for even an ounce of his strength back, just enough so that he could launch a few fire balls to burn that fucking door down. Then he’d chase after those sick bastards, tearing through them and taking his kitten away from them. His chin wobbled, upper lip twitching as he continued to stare for a moment longer before he turned, resting his head in the opposite direction of that door, hiding his face from the cameras.
They would not get the satisfaction of seeing another little shard of his heart break off and fall into the oblivion below. The tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes were forcibly shoved back and into a heavy trunk where the tremors and screams could keep them company. He would not give them that satisfaction, oh no. The only satisfaction they would receive was when he was released from here and he granted them the satisfaction of a slow, painful death, the only kind of death they deserved. Oh yes, that is what they would receive. It was that comforting thought running through his mind, dragging up millions upon millions of ideas to kill each and every one of those “doctors” that lulled him into the sedative induced sleep.
~*~
Darkness greeted him when he awoke many hours later. He had never seen darkness in this room, the bright fluorescents always shining harshly down upon them. It made him worry. Darkness meant that something might have gone wrong with his kitten and that he may be sensitive to light. He might have been forgotten, Kitten’s latest trials going well and he was discarded as useless. The power may have gone out to this block of the complex. Oh dear sweet Gaia, please let the power still be humming, the back generators would surely kick in soon for his kitten’s monitors and support machines depended on that power! By sheer force of will, he pulled himself up into a sitting position, eyes quickly scanning the shadows for something, anything. His mind quickly concluded that he was alone in the room, his kitten’s form missing from either of the beds. He didn’t know if he should be happy or sad about that.
Gritting his teeth, he forced his body to move, forced his shaking legs to still and strengthen enough to hold him up without the wall to brace him as he took first one step, then another and another until he was moving easily across the floor, fingers reaching out and gripping the doorframe. Carefully, he ran his fingers along the door, looking for any weak points what so ever, any cracks that could help him tear the door open. The door was, of course, as smooth as ever and locked from the outside but he would not allow that to stop him. Snarling, he curled his fingers into a fist and drew his right arm back, counting to three mentally in his head before slamming his hand into the door. Once, twice, three times, the dent growing larger and larger as he pounded away at it. Four, five tries and the door bent enough such that he could grab the right side of it and force it open just enough so that his skinny frame could slip through.
The light in the hallway was pale, the emergency lights on the floor casting deep shadows along the walls and high ceiling. Well, that was one good thing, he guessed. This place did have a backup power supply which had indeed kicked in so his little kitten must be as safe as could be. Carefully, he moved down the center of the hallway, his bare feet not making a sound on the cold metal floor, the lights surely casting shadows on each side of his body as he moved. That was fine. The more intimidating he looked the better, that way if he came upon any scientists or brutes, they’d hesitate long enough for him to rip their bowls from their chests and shove them down their throats before they could even properly register what it was coming towards them. He allowed a chuckle to escape his throat and echo faintly in the hall at that lovely little morsel of a thought. He almost hoped he would run into someone, just so he could fulfill it.
Moving quickly and silently down the maze of corridors, he followed the familiar path to the central lab, the lights slowly growing brighter and brighter the closer he got. His movements slowed, his body crouching lower to the ground as he approached the open doorway, voices he didn’t recognize echoing from the cavernous room into the hallway. Carefully, he moved through the doorway and quickly hid behind some hulking machine, the green glow of mako seen from the corner of his eye and perhaps casting a sickly shadow over his face. Perfect. People were indeed moving around the room, perhaps three quarters of them in military uniform while half of the others were clearly doctors, the others some type of researchers perhaps. Talking, shifting feet, typing keys and paranoia made up the atmosphere of the room, everyone casting glances to each corner in case something decided to jump out at them. The only thing that would be jumping out at them was him.
The shadows became his friends as he moved through them, each shift of his body carefully silent, his feet leading him around the room, eyes flickering to try and catch a glimpse of his kitten. A flash of silver caught his eye causing him to quickly tuck himself into the narrow spot between a bank of blank monitors and the wall. The silver, as he had suspected, was the same liquid curtain his dear old friend had had since he could remember, the river flowing down his back and moving in a glittering waterfall as he turned his head this way and that. It was very distracting. Shaking himself quickly, he looked around his friend, trying to see if his constant companion was glued to his hip like always. He was. The pair was standing with two medics bent over a gurney, the silver haired General’s hands holding down a pair of legs, the medics checking over the rest of the body and the puppy’s fingers combing through the thick blonde hair of his precious kitten.
Rage shot through him, an inferno growing in the pit of his stomach and racing like wild fire through his veins. His fingers twitched, itching to rip the insolent puppy’s fingers from his kitten and shove them through his chest. His teeth groaned as he ground them together, the only part of his body that he allowed to move as he continued to watch the medics fuss over his kitten, the Silver General’s hands tightening on the boy’s legs as they began to shift and convulse. The medics began shouting orders, some rushing over to hold the boy down as the convulsions got worse and worse, his body nearly lifting from the table. He could hear the puppy’s babbling rising over the shouts and the boy’s thumping against the table. The rage in him began to glow brighter before finally he could take no more and he rushed forward, fingers curling around the puppy’s wrist and yanking the hand from his kitten’s hair, his own fingers burying themselves in the thick locks.
“You have exactly five seconds to get your filthy hands off of him before you’ll need new prosthetics,” he snarled. Surprise and shock rippled through the faces of those bent over his kitten, grips loosening with it, acid green eyes coming up to meet his own. Those eyes were as cool as ever, staring right back into his own, challenging him to let go or disappear as the figment he no doubt thought he was.
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” he snarled again, his other hand gripping his kitten’s left bicep in preparation of pulling him off the table and away from them. Absently, he noticed that the convulsions had lessened and become more concentrated around his legs, almost as if his kitten were trying to kick the General’s hands away. The air around him changed, a movement to the side of him catching his attention. Before the fist could meet with his jaw, he sent his own right hook at the puppy, catching him in the nose and sending him sprawling back on the floor, blood gushing from the broken feature. The medics, the fucking cowards, quickly took the message to heart, their hands releasing his kitten and quickly backing away, one going to the puppy’s side in an attempt to heal him. The General, however, remained where he was, hands like vices around the boy’s kicking legs, showing no signs of letting him go despite the act of violence.
“Genesis,” he said, voice smooth and hinting a warning.
“I will speak with you only when you get your greasy hands off of him!” he returned, hands curling around both his kitten’s arms. Cool green eyes seemed to regard him for a long moment, seemingly testing his resolve, before his fingers slowly loosened enough that he could pull his kitten away from him and move to the other side of the room, tucking into the space he had previously occupied, his now calm kitten curled protectively into his embrace. Weaving his fingers into the boy’s hair, he watched those in the room, many of them still stunned, one of the cursing up a storm when the medic reset and cured his nose and the last watching him, the same impassiveness on his face.
“The bloody fuck?!” cried the puppy, jumping to his feet, wiping the blood from his face and glaring pure hatred at him.
“Let him go, you freak!”
“Take one step closer, puppy, and you will be meeting your precious mentor in the life stream sooner than you can blink.”
“Zack, stand down.” The puppy paused, fingers curled around the hilt of the big sword on his back, eyes casting a quick confused glance at his General.
“Seph—“
“Stand. Down.” He said, eyes not leaving Genesis and his charge. Reluctantly, the puppy uncurled his fingers and turned back to him, expression thoroughly displeased with his superior’s order but following it anyway. With a snort, he turned his gaze away from them, tucking himself and his kitten further into the little space and combing his fingers through his hair, arm tightening around the boy’s waist. His kitten let out a long breath, muscles relaxing and body sinking into his protective embrace, no doubt settling into sleep with his protector watching over him. He took comfort in that and the fact that he could see no bruises, cuts or burns on his kitten’s pale flesh. Good. Burying his nose into the blonde spikes, he stroked a hand through the boy’s hair, rage dissipating from his system as his gaze drifted across the room again, taking in the fact that it was just the medics, researchers and army personnel in the room.
His eyes caught the satisfying sight of a few corpses scattered about, the “doctors” apparently meeting with the life stream as green tendrils drifted up from their bodies, the forms slowly disintegrating into nothing more than a faint thought soon to be forgotten. That settled a little more of his rage, for the moment at least and he turned his gaze away from the disappearing bodies and to the pacing puppy and his old friend. He didn’t know if they were going to be safe with these two and their little entourage, his fragile kitten especially but he didn’t let the paranoia show in his expression, nor did he let its little fingers dig too deeply into him. With his kitten safely tucked in his arms, he figured that he could afford not to worry too much about them, for now at least.