Fandom:: FFVII

Pai: Several will be seen/implied

Summary:: A rebel is thrust into the orderly world built within a facility harboring absolute chaos threatening to destroy the volatile peace built by those whom have never known it.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Time had no meaning here. Hands dragged along the face clicking by countless seconds. Clawing single-minded paths in a stubborn circle around and around and around the same heart. Never going anywhere yet moving the world all about it from that stationary location. The hand dragged along, slowing each laborious twitch until it matched the beat of his heart. In. Out. In. Out. Remember to breathe in perfect rhythym or he'd be lost forever. Forgotten in the sea of seconds somewhere in the desert on the side of abandoned railroad tracks. Time controlled all in their world. There was no use in disobeying the clock or he'd be all alone.

Tick-tock.

Long red bloodline dripping toward the six. Pumping along the stark white circle drying out his throat with every ragged suck of air. Fingers contorted and cringed twisting against painful handcuffs. The itch. The itch. It was coming back. Burning in his wrists, itching so badly. Thousands of little ants crawling under his skin nipping away at his veins. How he wanted to tear off these chains and tear the flesh away to stop that terrible itching. The scars buried in his skin torturing him with each passing second.

He cried. Screamed and openly cried as the doctor pried open the vaults. The doctor unearthed all the old wounds and bled him dry. He had no more blood to lend. He needed this blood in his wrists when they opened. He had to stop the itching. They woudn't let him scratch but it itched so bad. The itch, the itch. Oh dear Gaia, the itch!

"M-make it stop.. make it stop!" Reno lashed out at the desk with his feet. "Make it stop Doc! Oh god.. the itch.. make it stop!"

Dr. Reeve Tuesti surveyed his patient's behavior closely. Reno was usually a cooperative patient, it was not like him to go into ballistic fits like the other men often did. He approached the other cautiously, gently resting a strong hand on the man's shoulder to calm him.

"Maybe we should stop for the day..." The ex-Turk couldn't hear him, pleading for the scruffy man to stop this incessant itching. This goddamn horrible itching that was driving him crazy. It burned, he screamed, burned so bad. Reeve caught Reno's sickly wrists tracing bulging blue and purple veins beneath a web of fresh scars. He hated having to keep the redhead cuffed but if he was going to lapse into self-destructive behavior there was no alternative.

"It itches!" Reno's fit ended before it began, settling for curling into the best ball he could on the living chair and sobbing into his knees. Reeve watched the redhead's wrists squirm desperately in the cuffs rubbing the skin raw trying to scratch them. Reno didn't like the handcuffs but he would not stop trying to kill himself so Reeve had done what was best for him. Was this truly best? He didn't really know. It killed him to see his patient suffering. He hated to see any of the men at the Compound suffer like this but it was the nature of the study, the nature of the beast he was assigned to deal with.

Reeve had not been in the ward for very long but he'd known Reno before the redhead was put on Psychological Discharge. Many Turks went through a period of lapse where they could not longer bear the immense stress and pressure, the guilt and pain of their jobs. It wasn't unusual for them to develop psychopathic tendencies to justify their work. Reno had not gone to that extreme, instead turning to sex and alchohol letting nature's vices be his salvation. Some pull out of the lapse and are either honorably discharged, transferred to another position, or continue on.

An alarming number of them never recover and are imprisioned in the Compound.

He gently scratched at the scabbing wounds to silence the ecstatic man. Reno silenced into pitiful whimpers, pulling away from the doctor. Reeve was one of the only doctors here who truly cared for the patients and didn't just use them for punching bags or guinea pigs. He didn't want the wrong people to catch the doctor and fire him. Many recognized Reeve's tenderness and thus he was given utmost respect about the Compound among patients.

Reno followed obediently out of the office and into the care of the local attendant, a young bouncy fellow with spiky black hair. Zachary Fair had been a ward attendant for awhile now, a former First Class SOLDIER honorably discharged after an accident rendered his right knee almost useless. Reeve had gotten to know the boy after a spell and he'd shown a genuine interest in working here at the Shinra Mental Degeneration Research Facility. It took pulling some strings but he'd got the boy a position attending to the patients in his ward.

"Mind taking him back to the dorms, Zack? I think he's had enough of private session for the day."

"Sure thing." Zack wrapped an arm around the trembling redhead. "C'mon Reno..."

They were all being studied here. All the inpatients were suffering from some degree of mental degeneration or psychopathic breakdown because of one ordeal or another. Many were either ex-members of SOLIDER or Psychologically Discharged Turks. Shinra was never made to pay for their own mistakes. Instead they took their rejects and caged them together in a giant research facility where they were exhibitioned as their minds gradually deteriorated within their heads. President Shinra had passed this duty on to his son and although it was the Shinra family that officially owned the facility, there was no doubt in anyone's mind who truly ruled the Compound.

Sensation of eyes on his back. His eyes. The legendary ex-SOLDIER once heralded as a hero left chained to the back wall of his cell for years. After Sephiroth's stability snapped he was trapped here in these walls. They tethered him to cold tile wall in an isolated cell, arms apread apart like a martyr upon the cross of those Shirna had destroyed. Sephiroth was extremely intelligent. It didn't take him long to realize he would be trapped here forever if he did not play by their rules. He relented and succumbed to their laws leading the attendants to believe all these foolish therapies and handfuls of pills had truly lessened his symptoms. He was significantly calmer now than he had been upon admission so the executives insisted he be released into the populace for rehabilitation purposes. Reeve knew that was nothing more than clever guise for their true mission. Within months he was released and immediately the man began building himself an unofficial empire.

There were several other significant figures in Reeve's ward. They varied in intrigue, those who brimmed with a desire to put down their unofficial commander and those who were content to go along with his order. The patients split themselves into groups spread throughout the ward's lounge area, softly whispering or playing cards amongst themselves.

There was Cloud, a quiet and soft-spoken blonde boy admitted after the SOLIDER experiments destroyed his fragile mentality. He was not a problem patient and spent much time hanging with Vincent, a dark-haired ex-Turk brought to the compound after demonic experiments left him too dangerous to be freed to the open world. Cloud was extremely jittery around Vincent, wringing his fingers nervously as they spoke. Vincent would lapse into spells where the demons would attack anyone near him and poor Cloud had been a victim to these occasions. One of the other attendants, a mister Cid Highwind, took care of those two and Reno.

Zack, however, spent most of his time around the silver-haired quartet that idled along the back wall. At Sephiroth's feet sat three brothers, all identical and equally inseperable. Kadaj's arms were bound tightly, the dangerous teenager prone to violent spasms and fits often resulting in someone dead or very near. He curled at the ruler's feet, hungry Mako eyes darting about seeking challenge. Tall and slender Yazoo was infamous for flaunting his all-too desirable body to get himself in and out of things as he pleased. A true seducer, Rufus had finally donned the boy's olive green convalescents were to be loose enough to detract from his charm but not enough to be wriggled out of. Yazoo was usually in the lap of Loz, the middle brother and the biggest crybaby in the Compound. He was extremely emotional and, though he had the muscle to destroy any man who dare slander him, was so prone to collapsing into sobbing fits that any who dared did so when Kadaj or Sephiroth was not in earshot.

Reeve sounded the bell for them to retire back to their rooms and, as always, the groups moved last in tight clumps so they wouldn't be seperated in the crowds. All who looked upon Reeve gave a tiny smile but rather than feeling secure in his control Reeve knew the man who held the reigns was by far the most dangerous.

It was only a matter of time before the bomb exploded.