Guilt’s Cost: Part XCVIII

Recalled Moment

Okay, this is the last time I will have any opening words before a chapter. I’ve spent a lot of time on this stupid story and am making nothing on it, so please keep the negative s*** to yourself.

For all of the readers who have been kind to me, I thank you. Know that it is not you at whom I am angry.

Oh God, I got so mad I almost forgot:

A special goodbye to Alex Stuerman. He was a dear friend and I will miss him, all of those who knew him will. Eleven years just isn’t enough.

10/01/91-2/11/02

Sorry but it’s been a real lousy day.

***

It was late morning by the time the helicopter set down in Costa del Sol. Several members of Dr. Arlin’s medical staff hurried out onto the airfield with stretchers ready to take Porter and Vincent down into the infirmary. With the two of them rushed off into the base (Angel disappearing with them, of course), everyone else found themselves alone under the late summer sun.

Tifa slid out of the chopper wanting to run after Vincent but found herself unable to do so. She was incredibly stiff from sitting with Vincent held against her for several hours and it pained her to simply stand, much less run.

Reno made his way over to her side, seeing the pained expression upon her face. "You doing okay?"

She stretched, now freed from the confines of the chopper and offered him a brief smile. "I’ve been better."

"Yeah, well, Vinny’s in good hands now. Don’t worry." He said, putting his arm around her shoulders.

She leaned on him for support as they started toward the entrance to the base. It felt as though all the muscles in her legs were cramping at once, and there was still a dull ache within her abdomen. "Reno?"

"What’s up, babe?" He said, looking down into her eyes.

"Uh, thanks." Tifa dropped her gaze to the ground.

"For what?" He was confused.

She looked back up at him and smiled. "For helping save Vincent."

"Well Hell, Tifa." He laughed. "It’s my job, you know."

Jaras trailed behind the others as they filed back down into the base. He held his book in one hand and allowed his sword to drag along the ground behind him. Why he was so absolutely wiped out he did not know. Well, he did know that some of it was due to the fact he hadn’t slept in two days, but the exhaustion went further than that. He sighed heavily as he pulled the base door shut behind him and went toward him room.

Once inside, he laid his sword carefully across the dresser and sat his book and reading glasses next to it. He pulled the band holding his hair back away, allowing his silver locks to again fall free, enveloping him. He brought his weary eyes up to gaze into the mirror hanging over the dresser. The sight of his haggard and stressed face frightened him. There seemed to be something within his own eyes that he had never remembered seeing before. The feeling within his heart at that moment was both alien and yet somehow oddly familiar. Jaras realized that he was feeling a need as deep and as controlling as his love for Tifa. Jaras felt the need for revenge. He needed to get to Hojo, to take out all of his frustrations and anger upon the scientist; not only for the state of his own pathetic and guilt-ridden existence, but for all of the pain and misery the madman had caused Tifa and his father.

Jaras became frightened at what he saw and quickly turned away. If it was revenge that had driven him to madness as Sephiroth, then it only served to reason that it would do it to him now as Jaras. Before leaving Mideel just a short time before he had never had such thoughts or feelings, and he was starting to miss the life he had led there in ignorance.

Slowly he began to pull the suit from his body, letting it fall piece by piece onto the floor. He made his way to the small bathroom of his quarters and turned the shower on. Once the water was running hot, he stepped in. The feeling of the burning water upon his body would at least for the moment help clear his mind of his worries.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking deep breaths of the steam filled air. Suddenly an image flashed before his eyes, something he never should have remembered. It was an image of Hojo. Not a picture recalled from one of his many books, but a living, breathing memory of something that happened long ago.

He wasn’t Jaras in the memory, he was Sephiroth, but not the SOLDIER General of legend, he was a little boy. Hojo stood looming over him, smiling and laughing. The sound wasn’t one of happiness, rather one of cruel pleasure.

The scientist was holding a syringe up between the boy and himself, an expression of madness upon his features. "Oh, Sephiroth… heh… Here’s is more Jenova for you. It is this that will make you a god among men! Give me your arm, my son… Let me help you gain your full potential. How wonderful it must feel to be the first perfect human in history!"

Jaras opened his eyes and gasped. He reached out and turned the water off with his shaking hand. This was the first memory of his previous existence to ever come back to him and he was absolutely terrified by it. He threw open the shower door and ripped a towel from the wall, hastily drying himself before going back out to the dresser and pulling forth a tee shirt and cut off jeans. He dressed quickly and pulled on his tennis shoes. He needed someone, anyone to be with right now. If he had to suffer gaining anymore memories, he needed to do it with someone else around; otherwise he feared he might lose his mind.

***

Tseng heard of the return of his men and went to the infirmary knowing that Vincent and Tifa would both be there. Upon opening the door, he spotted Tifa lying in a bed with Reno sitting at her side. After he had brought her here, Dr. Arlin had ordered her to lie down while she evaluated the other two men. She knew at the very least that Tifa would be suffering from stress and exhaustion, and she didn’t want her to pass out or get sick as she waited for news on Vincent. Vincent and Porter were in the other end of the long room, being evaluated and worked on behind exam curtains out of view.

Tseng started toward Tifa and Reno, wanting to make sure they were both all right after their ordeal. "You’re back."

Tifa’s face brightened upon seeing Tseng. She had spent plenty of her time between bouts of worry for Vincent thinking about him. "Oh God, Tseng! I’m so glad to see you!"

When he reached her bedside, he bent and gave her a short embrace, relived to know that she was okay. Once he straightened back up, he took up Reno’s hand and gave it a quick shake. "I was quite worried about all of you after the chopper didn’t return yesterday as planned."

"Well, like I said on the phone, we had a slight change of schedule." Reno smiled, happy to be safe at home again.

"And everyone else is fine? With the obvious exceptions, of course." Tseng asked, waving over toward where Porter and Vincent were being worked up.

"Yeah, Ericson, Morris, Jaras… they’re all fine." Reno sighed.

"I’m glad to hear it." Tseng gave a smile of relief. "I hate to bring this up so quickly, but as soon as the Turk is well enough, we need to have a meeting."

"I kind of figured." Reno said, looking away.

"Yes, we have to do something about Hojo before it’s too late." Tseng grew clearly upset.

"What?" Tifa asked, fearing that anything that would involve Hojo would also involve her and Vincent, assuming he was ever up to it.

Tseng looked into Tifa’s eyes. "We have to prevent him from carrying on the Neo-Jenova Project. Now that he has what he… needs to start the Project it will be only a matter of time before he does something on the level of Sephiroth again."

"Oh…" Tifa dropped her gaze to her hands folded in her lap. This meant the death of any possible child that Hojo was attempting to create with her eggs. After all of her desperate desire to have a child, now she was faced with having to kill it.

All eyes suddenly went to the entryway of the infirmary when Jaras burst through the doors. The abject look of panic on his face filled everyone with fear.