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Fic: Tantalos
Tantalos
FF7, spoilers, Zax and Cloud
Angst liek woah
'Persephone pitied Tantalus, and when no one was looking, cupped some water in her hands and gave it to him to drink.'
He hated it down here. No matter how much artificial heating they had in here, no matter how bright the work lights, there was a faint, perpetual December chill in the lab. He shoved his glasses up his nose and squinted at the task sheet, wrapping his arms around himself in an effort to hold some more heat in.
"Hey, Brian, I've got a favor to ask you."
Unfortunately, the task sheet was nearly bare - it was Yule, after all, almost nobody was in the labs at this time of year. Someone had had to stay behind to keep an eye on the samples, of course, but actual work tended to grind to a halt in December. All that the last guy had left for him were a couple of arthritic scrawls, with a vast amount of empty space beneath the words "mon VS" and "PT PRN".
"Sure. What is it?"
"I just checked the weather report on SIN. They're forecasting heavy snow around Yule, telling anyone who's doing any real travel to get going before the 19th or stay put."
"...and?"
Monitor vital signs, physical therapy as necessary. In other words, sit on your arse all day and make sure the samples don't die. Let them move a little if you have to. Have a good Yule twenty feet underground, Brian.
"Well, I'm on watch duty this Yule, but I promised my wife I'd be home. It's just down in Costa Del Sol, I could be there in a day, but not with this snow coming up. Could you cover me? I'm real sorry, but I promised..."
Brian Wesson sighed and made his way to the back room. The cushions on the old leather chair gave a soft whooof as he deposited himself into the seat, and the chair creaked softly as he leaned back, kicking his feet up on the desk.
Of course he'd agreed. All it had taken was a quick trip to his ex's house to tell her that work had gotten thick and she'd need to take Susan for Yule, and he was committed. There was a stab of regret, but what could be done? Craig had been getting the short end of the work schedule for the past six months, and it had seemed cruel to make him stay down here for Yule when he'd barely been able to exchange five words with his wife since June.
Besides, at least Brian's family lived here in Nibelheim. He could spare a couple hours for them once in a while, the samples wouldn't get out in such a short time.
"Thanks, Brian. I owe you big for this."
"Oh, just go. Happy Yule."
And the regret wasn't anything new.
"Keep an eye on Specimen A. He's been looking kind of shifty lately."
"Will do."
Even back here, even with the lights on, he could still make out a faint green cast to the edges of things, getting worse along the books down the hallway. Faint shadows cast, tiny traces of light.... The signs were barely noticable to a casual onlooker, but glaringly obvious to Brian Wesson, whose morbid, guilty fascination led his eyes in an avid search for the things he didn't want to see.
He hated it down here.
-
It was hours later that Brian finally sat back, looking at the mass of scribbled-on paper in front of him, and gave up. Doodling, drafting letters, and playing tic-tac-toe against oneself was only an effective distraction for so long. Besides, the samples needed to eat.
He heaved himself out of the chair with great reluctance and trudged back to the lab area. The tanks glowed placidly in a corner of the room, humming quietly to themselves as the internal heating systems kept the Mako inside at a steady temperature. Somewhere in his usual cocktail mix of emotions about this project, Brian felt a momentary touch of envy for the indistinct dark shapes floating in the green substance. At least they weren't cold.
Quelling sarcastic thoughts about the actual need for such a thing at this time of year, he opened the ration refrigerator. Theoretically it was only supposed to be there to keep the samples' food fresh, though the techs had inevitably filled the empty spaces with their own lunches and snacks. There were still leftovers from this year's early Yule feast, dominating the bottom half of the refrigerator and creeping up through the top shelves.
Brian reached in, snaking his arm in between a bottle of cider and a plastic container of sweet potatoes, to grab the first of two ration packets in the back. His hand reached one of the bags, and stopped over it.
A niggling little voice in the back of his head was reminding him that the little packets of nondescript paste were formulated for optimum nutrition, at the expense of flavor. Some flavor was added in, of course, but only so much. The little voice went on to further remind him that he was all alone with the samples down here, nobody would know, and it was Yule, for pity's sake.
He withdrew his hand and grabbed for a plastic bag full of leftover turkey.
Ten minutes later, he was closing the refrigerator and taking two laden paper plates to the microwave. After putting the first plate in and setting the timer, he walked back to the tanks and changed the atmospheric controls. That act was so routine now he didn't even have to think about it; allow the Mako inside to gradually cool to the outside temperature in order to minimize shock to the samples when the tanks were opened. Simple procedure.
Specimen A was eyeing him suspiciously through the glass as he set out the two plates on the table. Brian looked up at him and frowned.
"What are you looking at?"
Specimen A gave no indication of having heard him, but turned slowly in the Mako to look into the other tank, thick black hair swirling lazily behind him. Brian followed his gaze. Specimen B seemed to be conscious - in itself something of a surprise, he was spending more and more time withdrawn into himself lately - and had retreated slightly from the door, glancing nervously back over at the other sample.
Brian shook his head and went back to get the cider glasses.
He was still getting the wary look from Specimen A as he started to unlock the first tank. He sighed. Some of the other techs claimed that this one could be occasionally coaxed into conversation, and the older ones told stories about how hard he had been to subdue when the project had begun. Brian had his doubts. All he'd ever seen Specimen A do was glare balefully and scratch lazily at the side of his tank.
As the Mako drained and the door swung open, Specimen A swayed on his feet for a couple seconds, and then upon steadying himself, sighed and held his wrists out to be bound. This was standard procedure too, implemented near the beginning of the project. Brian glanced over at the special manacles, constructed to be impossible to break free from and constantly kept near the tanks, and shrugged.
"Not this time," he said. "Go to the table and sit."
Specimen A's eyes widened in surprise, and he stared at Brian in open disbelief, his hands still extended. Brian laughed.
"Did you think I was putting both of those out for myself? Go sit while I let the other one out."
As he unlocked the second door and drained the Mako, however, the sample didn't move to follow his directions; though he stepped out of his tank, he stayed by Brian, giving the tech the feeling he was being closely monitored. He tried to shake off the prickly feeling of eyes on the back of his neck as he opened the door to let Specimen B out.
Specimen B had retreated to the back of the tank as soon as the Mako had drained enough to let his feet rest on the floor. He flattened himself against the glass and slid down, huddling up and staring back at Brian with fearful eyes. This came as no surprise. Specimen B, having started as an ordinary human with only preliminary Mako treatments, was the primary subject of the project, with the lion's share of testing being conducted on him. Unfortunately, he was also a skittish little thing who had quickly learned exactly how to present the techs with the greatest amount of difficulty in prising him from his tank. As the project had progressed, his increasing strength and mass had not made the task any easier.
"It's all right," Brian said soothingly. "It's just feeding time. We're not doing any work today."
The fear gradually faded from the sample's face, and he hesitantly uncurled and crept out of the tank. There was, as always, a tension in his movements, as if he was never quite ready to believe that there wouldn't be a needle waiting for him beyond the glass. Brian stepped back and to the side, allowing the blond to see the set table and the other sample. Specimen A held up his unbound hands and grinned. Specimen B's eyes widened, a disbelieving smile flickering at the edges of his mouth. Still grinning, Specimen A nodded, and extended a hand to rest on the blond's shoulder.
Brian just watched, bemused, as the two walked towards the table and seated themselves. There was an almost palpable air of wonder as they poked questioningly at the food, throwing grinning glances at each other as if to confirm that it was real, before starting to eat in earnest.
The nutritive paste must have been pretty awful, he thought, in order to provoke this kind of reaction to reheated leftovers.
With a shrug, he turned his back on the samples and returned to the refrigerator to dig some more leftovers out for himself.
"Hey, Brian."
Brian nearly dropped the bottle of cider in his spasm of surprise.
He whipped around to face the table again, glasses askew. Specimen A was looking up at him, holding up a forkful of mashed potatoes as though a thought had occurred to him in mid-motion. Seeing that he'd gotten Brian's attention, he gestured vaguely at the table with his fork.
"What's the occasion?" he asked. His voice was hoarse and rusty from disuse, but the tone was light and cheerful. His earlier suspicion seemed entirely gone.
"I," Brian stammered, shutting the refrigerator door and leaning against it for support. "I just thought you might like some variety. I mean. You know, it's Yule and all."
Specimen A's face fell unexpectedly, and his gaze dropped to his plate again. "It's Yule?"
Brian took a quick drink of the cider to give himself time to regain a little more composure. Hearing a scratchy voice call his name out of the blue had scared about five years off his life. "Yeah. Time flies, huh?"
The sample was quiet for a little while before replying, "I guess so."
Brian straightened his glasses and spooned some potatoes onto his own plate beside the turkey.
"How did you know my name?" he asked eventually, over the hum of the microwave.
Specimen A gave a derisive snort, breaking into laughter. "I read your nametag, obviously. What, do you think I can't read?"
Brian coughed and studied his glass of cider. The microwave dinged, giving him an excuse to turn away as he retrieved his food. "It hadn't occurred to me," he said truthfully.
The sample made a 'tch' noise and went back to eating.
After a few moments, Brian joined them at the table to eat. Specimen B glanced up at him warily, but quickly resumed clearing the last few peas off his plate. When Specimen A finished, soon after him, the atmosphere at the table suddenly changed as they both gave their empty plates despondent looks, and their eyes traveled slowly back to the tanks. Brian paused with fork in mouth, blinking up at the samples whose mood had so quickly changed.
After swallowing his mouthful, he cleared his throat softly to gain their attention.
"You know, you're overdue for some physical activity," he offered.
-
The samples were oddly hesitant as they followed him up the long spiral staircase, enough so that Brian found himself checking over his shoulder periodically to be sure they actually were still following. Specimen B seemed especially reluctant, clinging to Specimen A's shirt and staring at his feet as they walked.
Brian couldn't help feeling sorry for him. Rumor among the techs had it that he'd actually been from the old Nibelheim, before the incident; that that had been his driving force when he had managed the impossible feat of bringing Sephiroth down. If he'd had to see Kalm burn, Brian thought, he would have just broken down.
Hesitant though they were, the samples did stay close behind the whole way up. Brian tried not to notice how Specimen B became increasingly upset, how he buried his face in the other sample's chest to avoid looking out any of the windows, or how Specimen A wrapped a supporting arm around the blond's shoulders. He concentrated on the ornate old door handle, fiddling with the lock until it clicked. He pushed the doors open, and light flooded in.
Specimen A cringed and held his free arm up to his face to shield it from the light, grimacing in discomfort. Specimen B kept his face firmly planted against the ex-SOLDIER's chest. For the first time, Brian took note of how pale both samples were, and frowned.
"It's been a while since you've seen sunlight, hasn't it?"
"You could say that," Specimen A croaked, pulling his arm away fractionally and squinting, blinking furiously to try and focus. Brian crossed his arms and waited as the sample gradually adjusted to the bright light, finally managing to focus on his surroundings. He knew the exact moment when Specimen A finally realized what he was seeing by the way his mouth dropped open and his arm fell away from his face in shock.
"Oh my god... Cloud, look at this..."
Specimen B - Cloud - turned, painfully slowly. When his eyes finally adjusted as well, he made a hoarse little noise.
"Nibelheim," he choked out, his voice even harsher than Specimen A's. "But - how - Sephiroth--"
"Shin-Ra rebuilt it," Brian said gently. "They made it as close to the original as possible... you're from here, right? How did they do?"
Specimen B didn't say anything else. His knees buckled and he slid helplessly from Specimen A's protective grasp, gaping senselessly at the town. He made a strangled little noise and fell to his hands and knees at the threshhold, overcome with emotion. The older sample knelt beside him, holding his shoulder and rubbing his back steadyingly. After a few long, uncomfortable moments, Brian looked away, out at the snow.
"I thought you two might like some fresh air," he mumbled, looking up at the sky. More snow was definitely on its way, judging from those clouds. "I didn't want to keep you cooped up on Yule..."
"Thank you," Specimen A whispered. Specimen B's head bobbed in a motion that was probably, Brian realized, a nod of agreement. A small knot in his chest loosened.
"Go on out," Brian said, finally. "You can't leave the yard, but... other than that, do whatever you like."
He didn't look at them to see their questioning glances, and he didn't turn when he heard the rustle of cloth as they slowly collected themselves and rose to their feet. He turned away from them to close the door as they ventured out into the yard, amazed all over again at the measure of freedom they had been given.
He stood staring at the door handles for what felt like ages before he heard the first whistle, wet smack, and outraged cry. He turned just in time to see Specimen A darting away with a hoot of laughter, while Specimen B stood spluttering, snow melting off his hair.
Brian let out a soft sigh and smiled, leaning against the door and relaxing.
Happy Yule, he thought.
-
It was only an hour later when the snow began to fall again.
The samples had made good use of their time - the scattered and broken snow in the yard was testament to that, as were their flushed faces. Brian had stayed back, composing mental notes to put in the observation report. (Specimen B shows greatly increased speed as compared to Specimen A, strength and stamina also markedly improved... reaction time remains sub-optimal but shows promise... still unable to best Specimen A in melee combat, but at current rate of improvement may accomplish this in approximately one year...) He frowned at the first scattered flakes, but the samples, currently sitting with their backs against the fence, had taken an interest.
"Does it snow much in Gongaga?" Cloud asked softly. His voice was still weak and crackly, but clearer than it had been when he had first spoken.
"Not much," his companion responded. "I think it did once, when I was a kid. It's pretty temperate down there."
"Mmm. And the snow in Midgar was pathetic... Here, try catching them on your tongue. It's fun."
He tilted his head back then, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue. With a soft chuckle, his friend followed suit. Watching them for a moment, Brian smiled a little and couldn't quite fight back the impulse to do the same.
Catching the snowflakes turned out to be surprisingly easy... getting easier by the minute, in fact, on account of there being so many of them. He turned his attention back to the samples, still sitting with upturned heads and chuckling to each other at intervals. Brian grimaced faintly, wringing his hands. This next thing was something he didn't want to do, but he had known it would come up from the minute he suggested this.
"Boys," he called out, trudging through the yard towards them. "Hey... it's going to turn into a blizzard pretty soon. We have to go back in."
"What?" Specimen A said, turning suddenly to stare at Brian. "Already? But--"
"I know," Brian cut him off. "I'm sorry. But we've got to go back down."
The looks on their faces were unbearable. Brian had to look away, unable to watch the despair in those bright blue eyes.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I hope you at least enjoyed yourselves."
-
There was nothing in his life that had ever been as hard as taking the boys back down the stairs, into the dark and lonely laboratory with the empty tanks that would soon be filled again. They offered no further protest, but there was a heaviness in their strides as they walked ahead of him on the way down. Brian felt sick to his stomach.
Cloud curled up against the glass again immediately upon re-entering the tank, and Brian tried not to think too hard as he locked the door and reset the controls. Cloud was waist-deep in rising Mako by the time Brian managed to face Specimen A. The ex-SOLDIER was standing in front of his open tank, face downcast.
"I am sorry," Brian said quietly.
"I know," Specimen A replied.
"Well..." What else could be said? "In you go."
Specimen A gave a deep, sad sigh as he stepped into the tank. Brian hesitated before closing the door.
"What's your name?"
The sample - the man - lifted his head, and met Brian's eyes.
"Zax," he said quietly.
Brian nodded heavily, and shut the door. Zax closed his eyes and stepped back as he locked it. The Mako began to trickle up around Zax's feet, and he fell back against the glass wall, the picture of resignation. Cloud was by now submerged in Mako, still curled into the tight little ball.
Brian turned, and ran to the back room. He did not emerge again until the next morning.
-
Zax watched the new tech, careful to disguise his studying look as sullen indifference.
It was entirely possible, he knew, to not see a particular tech for several months before they came around again. They were rotated at semi-regular intervals, presumably to avoid bias or fatigue. It didn't necessarily mean anything that December had grown old and faded, and what felt like most of January had passed by, and he hadn't seen Brian Wesson since after Yule.
But the knowledge was there, settling in the back of his conscience like a lead weight. He knew the way this project worked. He knew how Shin-Ra worked. That tech filling out paperwork was fresh and nervous and fidgety, and Zax knew that they only brought new people in as replacements.
There would be no finding out what had happened to Brian Wesson, just as there had been no finding out what had happened to any of the few techs before who had ever shown him and Cloud any sympathy.
Somehow, Hojo always knew.
Maybe Brian was still all right, reassigned somewhere to some job where a little compassion wasn't a detriment.
But Zax knew how this project worked, and none of the other kind ones had ever gone as far as Brian had in their comforts. It was difficult to be optimistic.
They'd be watched more closely now, as well. Zax traced the fingernail scratches on the inside of the tank. It might take months, now, to find an opportune time. And Cloud was fading fast - it was all so much harder on him than on Zax, and this most recent turn of events was not helping. Zax could only hope that he would be able to get them out before he lost Cloud completely.
Hope was all they had.
FF7, spoilers, Zax and Cloud
Angst liek woah
'Persephone pitied Tantalus, and when no one was looking, cupped some water in her hands and gave it to him to drink.'
He hated it down here. No matter how much artificial heating they had in here, no matter how bright the work lights, there was a faint, perpetual December chill in the lab. He shoved his glasses up his nose and squinted at the task sheet, wrapping his arms around himself in an effort to hold some more heat in.
"Hey, Brian, I've got a favor to ask you."
Unfortunately, the task sheet was nearly bare - it was Yule, after all, almost nobody was in the labs at this time of year. Someone had had to stay behind to keep an eye on the samples, of course, but actual work tended to grind to a halt in December. All that the last guy had left for him were a couple of arthritic scrawls, with a vast amount of empty space beneath the words "mon VS" and "PT PRN".
"Sure. What is it?"
"I just checked the weather report on SIN. They're forecasting heavy snow around Yule, telling anyone who's doing any real travel to get going before the 19th or stay put."
"...and?"
Monitor vital signs, physical therapy as necessary. In other words, sit on your arse all day and make sure the samples don't die. Let them move a little if you have to. Have a good Yule twenty feet underground, Brian.
"Well, I'm on watch duty this Yule, but I promised my wife I'd be home. It's just down in Costa Del Sol, I could be there in a day, but not with this snow coming up. Could you cover me? I'm real sorry, but I promised..."
Brian Wesson sighed and made his way to the back room. The cushions on the old leather chair gave a soft whooof as he deposited himself into the seat, and the chair creaked softly as he leaned back, kicking his feet up on the desk.
Of course he'd agreed. All it had taken was a quick trip to his ex's house to tell her that work had gotten thick and she'd need to take Susan for Yule, and he was committed. There was a stab of regret, but what could be done? Craig had been getting the short end of the work schedule for the past six months, and it had seemed cruel to make him stay down here for Yule when he'd barely been able to exchange five words with his wife since June.
Besides, at least Brian's family lived here in Nibelheim. He could spare a couple hours for them once in a while, the samples wouldn't get out in such a short time.
"Thanks, Brian. I owe you big for this."
"Oh, just go. Happy Yule."
And the regret wasn't anything new.
"Keep an eye on Specimen A. He's been looking kind of shifty lately."
"Will do."
Even back here, even with the lights on, he could still make out a faint green cast to the edges of things, getting worse along the books down the hallway. Faint shadows cast, tiny traces of light.... The signs were barely noticable to a casual onlooker, but glaringly obvious to Brian Wesson, whose morbid, guilty fascination led his eyes in an avid search for the things he didn't want to see.
He hated it down here.
-
It was hours later that Brian finally sat back, looking at the mass of scribbled-on paper in front of him, and gave up. Doodling, drafting letters, and playing tic-tac-toe against oneself was only an effective distraction for so long. Besides, the samples needed to eat.
He heaved himself out of the chair with great reluctance and trudged back to the lab area. The tanks glowed placidly in a corner of the room, humming quietly to themselves as the internal heating systems kept the Mako inside at a steady temperature. Somewhere in his usual cocktail mix of emotions about this project, Brian felt a momentary touch of envy for the indistinct dark shapes floating in the green substance. At least they weren't cold.
Quelling sarcastic thoughts about the actual need for such a thing at this time of year, he opened the ration refrigerator. Theoretically it was only supposed to be there to keep the samples' food fresh, though the techs had inevitably filled the empty spaces with their own lunches and snacks. There were still leftovers from this year's early Yule feast, dominating the bottom half of the refrigerator and creeping up through the top shelves.
Brian reached in, snaking his arm in between a bottle of cider and a plastic container of sweet potatoes, to grab the first of two ration packets in the back. His hand reached one of the bags, and stopped over it.
A niggling little voice in the back of his head was reminding him that the little packets of nondescript paste were formulated for optimum nutrition, at the expense of flavor. Some flavor was added in, of course, but only so much. The little voice went on to further remind him that he was all alone with the samples down here, nobody would know, and it was Yule, for pity's sake.
He withdrew his hand and grabbed for a plastic bag full of leftover turkey.
Ten minutes later, he was closing the refrigerator and taking two laden paper plates to the microwave. After putting the first plate in and setting the timer, he walked back to the tanks and changed the atmospheric controls. That act was so routine now he didn't even have to think about it; allow the Mako inside to gradually cool to the outside temperature in order to minimize shock to the samples when the tanks were opened. Simple procedure.
Specimen A was eyeing him suspiciously through the glass as he set out the two plates on the table. Brian looked up at him and frowned.
"What are you looking at?"
Specimen A gave no indication of having heard him, but turned slowly in the Mako to look into the other tank, thick black hair swirling lazily behind him. Brian followed his gaze. Specimen B seemed to be conscious - in itself something of a surprise, he was spending more and more time withdrawn into himself lately - and had retreated slightly from the door, glancing nervously back over at the other sample.
Brian shook his head and went back to get the cider glasses.
He was still getting the wary look from Specimen A as he started to unlock the first tank. He sighed. Some of the other techs claimed that this one could be occasionally coaxed into conversation, and the older ones told stories about how hard he had been to subdue when the project had begun. Brian had his doubts. All he'd ever seen Specimen A do was glare balefully and scratch lazily at the side of his tank.
As the Mako drained and the door swung open, Specimen A swayed on his feet for a couple seconds, and then upon steadying himself, sighed and held his wrists out to be bound. This was standard procedure too, implemented near the beginning of the project. Brian glanced over at the special manacles, constructed to be impossible to break free from and constantly kept near the tanks, and shrugged.
"Not this time," he said. "Go to the table and sit."
Specimen A's eyes widened in surprise, and he stared at Brian in open disbelief, his hands still extended. Brian laughed.
"Did you think I was putting both of those out for myself? Go sit while I let the other one out."
As he unlocked the second door and drained the Mako, however, the sample didn't move to follow his directions; though he stepped out of his tank, he stayed by Brian, giving the tech the feeling he was being closely monitored. He tried to shake off the prickly feeling of eyes on the back of his neck as he opened the door to let Specimen B out.
Specimen B had retreated to the back of the tank as soon as the Mako had drained enough to let his feet rest on the floor. He flattened himself against the glass and slid down, huddling up and staring back at Brian with fearful eyes. This came as no surprise. Specimen B, having started as an ordinary human with only preliminary Mako treatments, was the primary subject of the project, with the lion's share of testing being conducted on him. Unfortunately, he was also a skittish little thing who had quickly learned exactly how to present the techs with the greatest amount of difficulty in prising him from his tank. As the project had progressed, his increasing strength and mass had not made the task any easier.
"It's all right," Brian said soothingly. "It's just feeding time. We're not doing any work today."
The fear gradually faded from the sample's face, and he hesitantly uncurled and crept out of the tank. There was, as always, a tension in his movements, as if he was never quite ready to believe that there wouldn't be a needle waiting for him beyond the glass. Brian stepped back and to the side, allowing the blond to see the set table and the other sample. Specimen A held up his unbound hands and grinned. Specimen B's eyes widened, a disbelieving smile flickering at the edges of his mouth. Still grinning, Specimen A nodded, and extended a hand to rest on the blond's shoulder.
Brian just watched, bemused, as the two walked towards the table and seated themselves. There was an almost palpable air of wonder as they poked questioningly at the food, throwing grinning glances at each other as if to confirm that it was real, before starting to eat in earnest.
The nutritive paste must have been pretty awful, he thought, in order to provoke this kind of reaction to reheated leftovers.
With a shrug, he turned his back on the samples and returned to the refrigerator to dig some more leftovers out for himself.
"Hey, Brian."
Brian nearly dropped the bottle of cider in his spasm of surprise.
He whipped around to face the table again, glasses askew. Specimen A was looking up at him, holding up a forkful of mashed potatoes as though a thought had occurred to him in mid-motion. Seeing that he'd gotten Brian's attention, he gestured vaguely at the table with his fork.
"What's the occasion?" he asked. His voice was hoarse and rusty from disuse, but the tone was light and cheerful. His earlier suspicion seemed entirely gone.
"I," Brian stammered, shutting the refrigerator door and leaning against it for support. "I just thought you might like some variety. I mean. You know, it's Yule and all."
Specimen A's face fell unexpectedly, and his gaze dropped to his plate again. "It's Yule?"
Brian took a quick drink of the cider to give himself time to regain a little more composure. Hearing a scratchy voice call his name out of the blue had scared about five years off his life. "Yeah. Time flies, huh?"
The sample was quiet for a little while before replying, "I guess so."
Brian straightened his glasses and spooned some potatoes onto his own plate beside the turkey.
"How did you know my name?" he asked eventually, over the hum of the microwave.
Specimen A gave a derisive snort, breaking into laughter. "I read your nametag, obviously. What, do you think I can't read?"
Brian coughed and studied his glass of cider. The microwave dinged, giving him an excuse to turn away as he retrieved his food. "It hadn't occurred to me," he said truthfully.
The sample made a 'tch' noise and went back to eating.
After a few moments, Brian joined them at the table to eat. Specimen B glanced up at him warily, but quickly resumed clearing the last few peas off his plate. When Specimen A finished, soon after him, the atmosphere at the table suddenly changed as they both gave their empty plates despondent looks, and their eyes traveled slowly back to the tanks. Brian paused with fork in mouth, blinking up at the samples whose mood had so quickly changed.
After swallowing his mouthful, he cleared his throat softly to gain their attention.
"You know, you're overdue for some physical activity," he offered.
-
The samples were oddly hesitant as they followed him up the long spiral staircase, enough so that Brian found himself checking over his shoulder periodically to be sure they actually were still following. Specimen B seemed especially reluctant, clinging to Specimen A's shirt and staring at his feet as they walked.
Brian couldn't help feeling sorry for him. Rumor among the techs had it that he'd actually been from the old Nibelheim, before the incident; that that had been his driving force when he had managed the impossible feat of bringing Sephiroth down. If he'd had to see Kalm burn, Brian thought, he would have just broken down.
Hesitant though they were, the samples did stay close behind the whole way up. Brian tried not to notice how Specimen B became increasingly upset, how he buried his face in the other sample's chest to avoid looking out any of the windows, or how Specimen A wrapped a supporting arm around the blond's shoulders. He concentrated on the ornate old door handle, fiddling with the lock until it clicked. He pushed the doors open, and light flooded in.
Specimen A cringed and held his free arm up to his face to shield it from the light, grimacing in discomfort. Specimen B kept his face firmly planted against the ex-SOLDIER's chest. For the first time, Brian took note of how pale both samples were, and frowned.
"It's been a while since you've seen sunlight, hasn't it?"
"You could say that," Specimen A croaked, pulling his arm away fractionally and squinting, blinking furiously to try and focus. Brian crossed his arms and waited as the sample gradually adjusted to the bright light, finally managing to focus on his surroundings. He knew the exact moment when Specimen A finally realized what he was seeing by the way his mouth dropped open and his arm fell away from his face in shock.
"Oh my god... Cloud, look at this..."
Specimen B - Cloud - turned, painfully slowly. When his eyes finally adjusted as well, he made a hoarse little noise.
"Nibelheim," he choked out, his voice even harsher than Specimen A's. "But - how - Sephiroth--"
"Shin-Ra rebuilt it," Brian said gently. "They made it as close to the original as possible... you're from here, right? How did they do?"
Specimen B didn't say anything else. His knees buckled and he slid helplessly from Specimen A's protective grasp, gaping senselessly at the town. He made a strangled little noise and fell to his hands and knees at the threshhold, overcome with emotion. The older sample knelt beside him, holding his shoulder and rubbing his back steadyingly. After a few long, uncomfortable moments, Brian looked away, out at the snow.
"I thought you two might like some fresh air," he mumbled, looking up at the sky. More snow was definitely on its way, judging from those clouds. "I didn't want to keep you cooped up on Yule..."
"Thank you," Specimen A whispered. Specimen B's head bobbed in a motion that was probably, Brian realized, a nod of agreement. A small knot in his chest loosened.
"Go on out," Brian said, finally. "You can't leave the yard, but... other than that, do whatever you like."
He didn't look at them to see their questioning glances, and he didn't turn when he heard the rustle of cloth as they slowly collected themselves and rose to their feet. He turned away from them to close the door as they ventured out into the yard, amazed all over again at the measure of freedom they had been given.
He stood staring at the door handles for what felt like ages before he heard the first whistle, wet smack, and outraged cry. He turned just in time to see Specimen A darting away with a hoot of laughter, while Specimen B stood spluttering, snow melting off his hair.
Brian let out a soft sigh and smiled, leaning against the door and relaxing.
Happy Yule, he thought.
-
It was only an hour later when the snow began to fall again.
The samples had made good use of their time - the scattered and broken snow in the yard was testament to that, as were their flushed faces. Brian had stayed back, composing mental notes to put in the observation report. (Specimen B shows greatly increased speed as compared to Specimen A, strength and stamina also markedly improved... reaction time remains sub-optimal but shows promise... still unable to best Specimen A in melee combat, but at current rate of improvement may accomplish this in approximately one year...) He frowned at the first scattered flakes, but the samples, currently sitting with their backs against the fence, had taken an interest.
"Does it snow much in Gongaga?" Cloud asked softly. His voice was still weak and crackly, but clearer than it had been when he had first spoken.
"Not much," his companion responded. "I think it did once, when I was a kid. It's pretty temperate down there."
"Mmm. And the snow in Midgar was pathetic... Here, try catching them on your tongue. It's fun."
He tilted his head back then, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue. With a soft chuckle, his friend followed suit. Watching them for a moment, Brian smiled a little and couldn't quite fight back the impulse to do the same.
Catching the snowflakes turned out to be surprisingly easy... getting easier by the minute, in fact, on account of there being so many of them. He turned his attention back to the samples, still sitting with upturned heads and chuckling to each other at intervals. Brian grimaced faintly, wringing his hands. This next thing was something he didn't want to do, but he had known it would come up from the minute he suggested this.
"Boys," he called out, trudging through the yard towards them. "Hey... it's going to turn into a blizzard pretty soon. We have to go back in."
"What?" Specimen A said, turning suddenly to stare at Brian. "Already? But--"
"I know," Brian cut him off. "I'm sorry. But we've got to go back down."
The looks on their faces were unbearable. Brian had to look away, unable to watch the despair in those bright blue eyes.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I hope you at least enjoyed yourselves."
-
There was nothing in his life that had ever been as hard as taking the boys back down the stairs, into the dark and lonely laboratory with the empty tanks that would soon be filled again. They offered no further protest, but there was a heaviness in their strides as they walked ahead of him on the way down. Brian felt sick to his stomach.
Cloud curled up against the glass again immediately upon re-entering the tank, and Brian tried not to think too hard as he locked the door and reset the controls. Cloud was waist-deep in rising Mako by the time Brian managed to face Specimen A. The ex-SOLDIER was standing in front of his open tank, face downcast.
"I am sorry," Brian said quietly.
"I know," Specimen A replied.
"Well..." What else could be said? "In you go."
Specimen A gave a deep, sad sigh as he stepped into the tank. Brian hesitated before closing the door.
"What's your name?"
The sample - the man - lifted his head, and met Brian's eyes.
"Zax," he said quietly.
Brian nodded heavily, and shut the door. Zax closed his eyes and stepped back as he locked it. The Mako began to trickle up around Zax's feet, and he fell back against the glass wall, the picture of resignation. Cloud was by now submerged in Mako, still curled into the tight little ball.
Brian turned, and ran to the back room. He did not emerge again until the next morning.
-
Zax watched the new tech, careful to disguise his studying look as sullen indifference.
It was entirely possible, he knew, to not see a particular tech for several months before they came around again. They were rotated at semi-regular intervals, presumably to avoid bias or fatigue. It didn't necessarily mean anything that December had grown old and faded, and what felt like most of January had passed by, and he hadn't seen Brian Wesson since after Yule.
But the knowledge was there, settling in the back of his conscience like a lead weight. He knew the way this project worked. He knew how Shin-Ra worked. That tech filling out paperwork was fresh and nervous and fidgety, and Zax knew that they only brought new people in as replacements.
There would be no finding out what had happened to Brian Wesson, just as there had been no finding out what had happened to any of the few techs before who had ever shown him and Cloud any sympathy.
Somehow, Hojo always knew.
Maybe Brian was still all right, reassigned somewhere to some job where a little compassion wasn't a detriment.
But Zax knew how this project worked, and none of the other kind ones had ever gone as far as Brian had in their comforts. It was difficult to be optimistic.
They'd be watched more closely now, as well. Zax traced the fingernail scratches on the inside of the tank. It might take months, now, to find an opportune time. And Cloud was fading fast - it was all so much harder on him than on Zax, and this most recent turn of events was not helping. Zax could only hope that he would be able to get them out before he lost Cloud completely.
Hope was all they had.
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