Tasting Apples

::If only I knew what was on your mind::

There were coffee stains on the wall. Weiss blinked groggily, watching as they resolved themselves into the ugly brown flowers. There was something fundamentally wrong about the flowers, he mused, still in a state of half-waking, but he just could not put his finger on it. Was it because they were such a repulsive shade of brown, or was it because some had been decorated with cigarette burns?

Could it possibly be because there had never been any wallpaper in Deepground?

Snapping awake, he sat up in the too soft bed, regretting it almost instantly when the room began to dance. He hadn't felt so out of it since…

Since he died.

The realisation startled him, but, in that moment, the memory fell away, leaving him with only a lingering sense of unease. Eyes shut, Weiss tried to tune out the blood pounding in his ears. What had he forgotten that was so important a moment ago? When the sound of his heartbeat slowed and he could think a little more clearly, he realised that there were more pressing matters.

Where was he? What was he doing here? How did he get here? Where were the others? Could he contact them?

Now that the room wasn't attempting the jive, he could take a better look at his surroundings. The disgusting wallpaper covered every wall of the fair sized room. It wasn't big, but he'd seen worse. For all the poor decoration, the room itself was at least clean. Clean to the point that it didn't look lived in. Had he come here alone, then?

No.

There was another bed between him and the door, one that had been made with soldier-like precision. The sheets were pulled taut and the faded pink blanket lay flawlessly smooth on top. It gave the impression of lifeless perfection: it was something Weiss himself would have felt compelled to do.

How had he come here? Not through a fight, no matter how his body protested. Any enemy strong enough to take him down would have just killed him. They certainly wouldn't have cleaned him up and tucked him into bed. Was it by choice, then? But he would never have left Deepground alone. But what if he wasn't alone? The other person here could be N…

It couldn't be Nero. Somehow, Weiss knew this with frightening conviction. Nero just couldn't be here.

He scanned the room again. The heavy curtains were drawn, letting only slivers of light through for illumination. Was it done for privacy, or for the sake of his eyes? Or was he simply reading into something that wasn't there?

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of red. An enemy...? No, just a garment draped over the back of a chair. But why would something like that trigger such a deep sense of unease? Red... Rosso? She'd never really been a threat to him: there was a very good reason why he was the one leading Deepground. Then who? And how did he know that it had to be a person? Once more, the memory skittered around the edges of his consciousness, so tantalisingly close, yet so frustratingly elusive.

Holding his head again, Weiss's gaze alighted on the bedside table. Someone had laid out an empty glass, a jug full of clear water and a purple apple, all within easy reach. Seeing the water made Weiss feel his thirst, but, as he reached out for the jug, he spied something that was far more important: a note, held down by the apple.

"In case you awaken while I am away, have a drink and an apple. It's refreshing, and, if nothing, it will pass the time. – G"

'G'. Genesis. Their 'elder brother'. He didn't know whether to feel worried or comforted. All he knew of Genesis was from the reports, and it seemed like Genesis was never a pleasant person to work with. There was, of course, the little matter of Genesis being catatonic and safely sealed away, last he checked.

So Genesis was awake and he was with Genesis, for goodness knew whatever reason in goodness knows where. As if that wasn't enough, there was still the matter of his strangely uncooperative memory. He wasn't used to feeling this disoriented or confused, not ever. It felt almost like there was some dark fog infiltrating his mind and hiding things...

Weiss shook his head. He could postulate till the end of time and still be unable to reach an explanation. Testing his legs, he noted that it would be at least another day before he trusted himself on his feet. Annoying, but it could hardly be helped. For the moment, all he could do was to wait. Settling down, he helped himself to the apple.

---

One would have thought that being essentially dead would give you some peace. However, it seemed that peace wasn't something SOLDIERs were allowed to have, not even in a near death state, if his experience was anything to judge by. Of course, it could also have been because Angeal had a martyr-complex the size of the Northern Crater.

The message had been garbled at first, nothing more than flashes of intent, of emotion, of a strong desire to save something. The world, maybe? It was very much like Angeal, and he thought nothing of it, putting it down to nostalgia. However, as time wore on, it became apparent that the voice in his head was indeed his childhood friend. His very persistent childhood friend. The message got clearer and clearer, though Angeal never did. It was as though the man was putting every effort into just getting the message across.

'Save him.'

Sometimes, he really hated Angeal and his Planet-damned bleeding heart. If that idiot had just gone quietly, he wouldn't have been stuck pondering the meaning behind such cryptic messages. As a friend, he felt some lingering sense of duty to help Angeal out, some lingering sense of guilt for insisting that they were both monsters, but as task revealed itself in ridiculously obtuse parts, it got harder and harder to hold on to that feeling.

'Save him.'

The only reason why he was here now on his fool's errand was because darling Angeal was not above guilt-trips, not when they got in the way of his bloody martyr-complex. And, as confusing as it was, he knew that he had only two choices: to be led on or to be led into madness.

---

Weiss was dozing fitfully, chasing half-remembered nightmares involving way too much red, when he heard the door open. Still pretending to be asleep, he carefully manoeuvred himself into a position where he could see the door. Light blinded him for a moment, causing an instinctive recoiling.

"I see you're finally awake." The room was plunged back into blissful darkness, while Genesis stalked over to the desk, dumping something on the other bed on his way in. Weiss watched him turn on the table lamp, prepared this time for the light.

So this was Genesis. It was somewhat disappointing, really. The ex-SOLDIER had looked much more imposing when he had been dressed in his customary red coat. He wasn't particularly built, his narrow frame creating the impression that he was smaller than he really was, though for sure he was as tall as Weiss. His features could almost be described as 'pretty', if not for their sharpness and the slight cruel curve to his lips. Half-lit by the table lamp, there was almost certainly something sinister in those glowing blue eyes.

"How do you feel?" asked Genesis, without so much concern as impatience, as though he was just some subordinate to talk down to. The attitude made Weiss bristle. Brother or not, no one talked to him like that.

"Sore."

It gave him a certain amount of satisfaction to see the annoyance crossing that almost-pretty face. Well, if Genesis wanted a full report, he was going to have to ask for it politely. Weiss owed him nothing.

"Doesn't matter anyway. I don't need you yet."

The careless dismissal was like a slap to the face. "I'm not yours to use," replied Weiss testily, sitting up straight. "I'm not going to be a pawn aga..."

Again.

The tension in the room was palpable as the two men glared at each other. Finally, grudgingly, Genesis looked away, getting up to turn on the room light properly this time. Weiss was mildly surprised. It would seem that Genesis really needed him if the man was willing to swallow his pride like that.

Now that the room was lit, it was easy to see the black shape lying on the other bed. Judging by its dimensions, it was most likely human, which led to the question, what the hell was Genesis trying to do?

"I'm going to get some food," announced Genesis, examining the black shape briefly rather than meeting Weiss's questioning eyes. "This thing shouldn't be waking up anytime soon, and even if it does, it shouldn't trouble you."

Weiss made no response, which merely led to Genesis leaving the room in equally frigid silence.

He was rather curious, actually, but he wasn't going to let anyone use that against him, especially after Genesis proved himself a complete jerk. If he was going to find anything out, it looked like he would have to find out for himself. Carefully, he began to get off the bed, trusting that he could make it to the other bed at the very least. It was then he noticed another problem: he was stark naked.

Genesis. His opinion of the man was dropping by the second. Scowling, Weiss wrapped the pink blanket around his waist and made his way over to the other bed, determined to have at least one of his questions answered. What was this thing that Genesis had left him with?

Silver-haired, pale-skinned, clad in black leather. A child?

---

He always hated working with people. They had a tendency to get in his way, and he had little patience for obstructions.

That introduction could have gone a little better, but he was tired. The body had stabilised, but he was nowhere near his peak, in terms of endurance. It didn't help that he hadn't slept in two days. Two days. Exactly how long it took for him to retrieve that thing that was now taking up his bed.

He didn't particularly look forward to going back to sleep either. In the past week, Angeal had been relentless. Still incoherent, still random, with only the pulse of intent.

'Save him.'

The Deepground soldier was important. That creature he'd picked up was important. Data was important. Equipment, location, his personal involvement: everything. It was like being forced to put together a puzzle in the dark while being passed the pieces one at a time.

He just wished someone would turn on the light.

---

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