AN: It's a whole new year and I'm back with chapter four! I've had all sorts of problems and delays including the loss of all my files so I have to yet again apologize for taking so long. This is the second to last chapter so we're almost there. All will be revealed! ... Well, almost.

A most humble thank you to everyone who read or reviewed!

Chapter four: Lost

Cloud stretched his hands out towards the flames. His numb fingers prickled and hurt as they began to warm up slowly. His breath formed small clouds in the cold, crisp air. The scenery around him was in black and white: the snow on the ground, shadows of mountains in the distance, the black night sky stretching over their heads, beaded with millions and millions of small, glittering jewels. The snow swallowed all sounds, it was completely silent. And breathtakingly beautiful.

Cloud knew he should crawl into his tent and get some much needed sleep. Tomorrow was going to be another long day of trudging through thigh deep snow, following the footprints of one excited, seemingly inexhaustible member of SOLDIER. But he couldn't resist staying up and freezing his ass of all the while trying to ignore his toes that were on the verge of falling off inside his boots due to the cold.

The snow creaked as Zack Fair sat down across the fire. He was peering at the sky, a slight smile on his face... and his arms were bare, exposed to the ruthless mountain wind drifting through the valley. And he didn't seem to be the least bit bothered by it.

Just looking at him made Cloud shrink deeper into his coat. He could have killed for a warm drink.

"Aren't you cold?" he still had to ask.

Zack glanced at him, "Nah, it's the..."

"Mako," nodding, Cloud completed his sentence. They sometimes talked about the subject. But not often. Usually they talked about normal, ordinary things. The stuff regular friends would chat and joke about. But never in the presence of others. As far as the other members of the squad knew, Cloud was just Zack's subordinate.

A couple of minutes went by.

"It's pretty," Zack said finally, looking back at the stars. "I wish I could take a picture of it. To show her, I mean. Describing it just isn't enough. I want her to experience it the way I do."

Cloud knew who Zack was referring to. And he also knew the reason Zack was so adamant on finishing this assignment before schedule, even though it drove the non-SOLDIER members of the squad to the verge of exhaustion. It was all because she was waiting for him.

Lately, Zack's focus just wasn't there. It made Cloud nervous. Personally, he thought Zack shouldn't be mooning over girls when his career was reaching a critical point. If he messed up now, he could lose everything.

"... Zack, what's so special about her?" suddenly, Cloud wasn't sure whether or not that was too personal of a question. "I mean, you have a girl waiting for you in about every town on this continent..."

"Shut up, Strife," Zack grinned, then went serious and shrugged. "I'm not sure... uh... well, just look at her!" He stood up, fished for something in his pockets and handed Cloud a small photograph. Cloud looked at it.

It was a girl with long, wavy chestnut hair, bright green eyes and a gentle, yet playful smile.

"Easy on the eyes, right? Right?" Zack nudged him in the side with his elbow. Cloud could see him beaming without having to actually looking at him.

He gave the picture back to Zack, "Yeah, I guess so."

"You just don't get it, Strife," Zack chided but there was a definite amount of humor in his voice. "You remind me of myself back when I thought only fools would get serious over a girl. But then I met her and..." he paused, eyes going down to the picture, going over it, the corner of his mouth curling into a tiny half a smile which Cloud knew meant he was truly, sincerely happy.

"I saw her for the first time and I knew she was the girl I was going to marry," he finished, then realized what he'd said - confessed - and let out an embarrassed laugh. "... Wow, that was seriously lame, wasn't it?"

Cloud could have joked, could have made fun of him, but didn't. He didn't have the courage to look at Zack as he looked for words, "How... how did you know it was her?"

"How did I know, huh?" Zack repeated, thoughtful. Then, he seemed to realize something and his face lit up, "I just felt it. Here,"

He tapped his chest, right over his heart.

xxx

The slums were silent as Cloud strode through the streets with remarkable speed. The smell of gutters hung in the air and he had to breathe through his mouth. He really shouldn't be moving yet, not this much. His head spun and nausea kept haunting him. But he kept moving and trying his best to navigate in unfamiliar surroundings. Every street and corner looked the same; every sorry person he ran into had the same look of resign written on their face.

His knee hurt like a bitch with every step but he forced himself to walk naturally. People remembered a guy with a limp.

He kept remembering things even though he tried to stay focused. Things, moments like that one night in the mountains. That was an especially dangerous moment to remember. It made him sick with fear and guilt, turned his feet into lead and tore his resolve apart.

As he left Sector Seven behind him, he remembered something else.

They had been on the run for several weeks when Zack, looking more serious than ever, handed Cloud a crumbled piece of paper with an address scribbled on it.

"Cloud. If something were to happen to me... then you must continue without me. Go to Midgar. Look for this place. She'll take you in. You'll be safe there. You can trust her."

The address was still etched into his mind. It was in Sector Five. He could probably find it on his own. He could go there and tell the girl...

'Tell her what, exactly? That her good-hearted, noble fiancé was probably never coming back? That he could be dead, but hey, at least he didn't die in vain...'

Going there would make sure he lived through the day, as opposite to this ridiculous quest that would most likely turn out to be a suicide. He could try to make a life for himself. Make up for the years he had lost. Grow old.

But instead he went to look for a way to get above the plate.

His mind was filled with calm and determination.

'I'm going to die today.'

xxx

He stole another ShinRa uniform to get aboard the train. The car he was sitting in was void of people save for a few early birds. He could tell they were wondering why he was traveling alone and not with other members of the troops - but the uniform did the job it was supposed to and kept them from asking questions.

The train kept climbing upwards as people kept getting off until the car was empty.

Then came the announcement. A cold, distant female voice spoke through the speakers.

Final stop. ShinRa Headquarters.

Cloud got off and this time he knew exactly where he was going. This place had been his home. The number of times he'd been standing on the front steps of the gigantic building, just like he was now, just looking up to the heights of the tower disappearing into the mist of clouds, how many had there been? He'd lost count. But the difference was that back then his eyes were filled with admiration and wonder. This tower had represented progress, advancement, something new and different that would come to change the world. And now... now he saw it for what it truly was; a tall pile of junk, steel and metal and glass; cold and inhumane, shedding its shadow over him.

But this was where it all began so it was more than fitting that this was where it would end once and for all.

Before, faced with a situation like this, he would have been a trembling ball of nerves, but not now. Mako gave him the ability to concentrate. Everything else was silenced, put on mute.

He climbed up the stairs and entered the huge lobby bustling with people. He pushed the visor of his helmet up just so he wouldn't look so suspicious. He had to stop in front of the building map to see if they had changed anything. Everything was in the same place it had been all those years ago. Cloud boarded the elevator and went up as high as he could with his current keycard. Then he exited and waited for a while to spot a suitable target. Thirty minutes passed until he caught sight of an employee whom he recognized as one of Professor Hojo's assistants. He accidentally-on-purpose bumped into the young woman, stole her keycard without her noticing anything was amiss, and strode right back to the elevators. This time no-one boarded the elevator with him.

Ding, said the elevator as the doors opened. Cloud checked the hallway before stepping out. He took off his helmet. It would be of no use here.

He'd never been on this floor before, mainly because a mere member of the troops had neither business nor the necessary security clearance here. "ShinRa Science & Research Department" read the sign on the wall.

It was quiet. Even eerily so. Cloud sensed the sharp smell of disinfectant and nearly passed out. The memories were so vivid. He kept going back to his time in a lab not unlike this one and he remembered the desperate panic he'd been in before he lost touch with reality and went numb.

Narrow corridors stretched out on both his right and left side. He turned right, making sure his steps didn't make any noise. A row of doors appeared and he paused in front of the first one. Examination Room No. 1. Numbers two, three and four followed. He swiped his stolen keycard and opened the first room. Inside he found a room resembling a regular doctor's office with a bed and a few medical supplies. He opened all the doors, all of them empty until he came to the last room. The lights were off but the bed was hidden behind a curtain.

Cloud felt his stomach twist into a tight knot. He really should keep going, he didn't have time to waste, but all he could see was himself lying behind that curtain, restraints on his wrists and ankles. He stepped into the room, heart pounding in his chest, legs trembling and unstable as he reached for the curtain and yanked it aside so hard it almost tore apart.

The bed was empty. Cloud staggered and had to grab the bed for support. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath until fresh air filled his lungs again.

'I can't do this', he realized. If he stayed here any longer than necessary he'd go crazy. He left the room with his hands in tight fists and continued down the corridor. He kept remembering that other lab not so long ago and had to fight to keep it together, to stay focused on what was ahead. The corridor just kept on going, stretching into a seemingly endless distance. He tried to rely on his instincts but all the doors and rooms looked the same, the silence just carried on. Frustration and anxiety started to take over his feelings. What if all for this was for nothing? What if, in the end, he would be left empty-handed?

But then again, he knew how low the probability of success had been ever since the beginning. He was betting on luck, on chance. It was all or nothing.

Then his ears picked up a faint, distant sound. The sound of someone typing away on a keyboard. The person writing wasn't too experienced of a typist. His rhythm was uneven with long pauses every now and then. Cloud's blood ran faster as he moved towards the sound until he came to a simple, unmarked room. There was a window to the room but the blinds were drawn down. There was no mistaking that the unknown person using the computer was behind the closed door. Cloud set his hand on the doorknob, tried turning it gently to see if the door was locked. It wasn't. Suddenly his palm was sweaty and he had to take a moment to even his breath. Then, concentration.

Now or never. All or nothing.

The room was dark except for the light coming from the computer screen. The computer itself hummed quietly. The man, sitting with his back facing the door, hadn't noticed the door opening silently behind him. There was a microscope and other kinds of laboratory equipment.

Cloud flipped on the light. The man stopped typing right away, saved the document he was working on and turned around. No rush. Never even flinched in surprise. He was dressed in a lab coat, had long hair tied loosely at the nape of his neck and round glasses that had slid down his nose. The man blinked, and then fixed his glasses. There lenses were smeared with grease stains.

"So good of you to come, Number Thirteen. I've been looking all over for you," the man said, his tone completely neutral. As if he had been expecting this.

Cloud felt his every sense heighten. He felt like he was about to explode and yet, at the same time, he was completely calm. He realized he'd been waiting for this. Waiting for closure from the moment he had escaped with Zack. He closed the door behind him, heard it lock. It didn't really matter. No-one was there, no-one besides them.

"Professor Hojo," he said. He took a step closer while Hojo remained in his seat.

"I really am pleased to see you. Can't have a test subject running around freely, you see... Especially not one so precious. I've invested a lot of time, money and resources on you," the professor went on.

"Cut the crap, Hojo," Cloud snapped, "I'd tape over your mouth if you didn't need it to answer questions."

Hojo just shrugged, "Go ahead." Cloud knew what the professor was thinking. There was no way Cloud would walk out alive, so what did it matter if he opened his mouth?

But then Cloud just walked up to him, looking down at the skinny, pale scientist. Cloud was so much stronger, so much bigger now.

"Sorry, I forgot something," he said and punched Hojo in the face. His fist connected with the professor's jaw and sent him to the floor. Immediate adrenaline rush. Cloud didn't even feel the pain in his knuckles. He waited for Hojo to come back to his senses and then knelt down to grab the collars of his jacket, lifting the scientist off the floor. He saw Hojo's yellow, crooked teeth and smelled his rotting breath. Hate and contempt flared up in his veins and he had to hold himself back from strangling the man then and there.

This man, this wretched little weasel of a man who couldn't even take care of his personal hygiene had stolen Cloud's past, present and future. Had taken away everything that had mattered. His whole life blown to shit. All because of him.

Hojo would pay. But not right away. As much as it disgusted him, Cloud needed the professor.

"Where's Zack, Hojo? Where is he? Speak!" he demanded, giving the professor a rough shake to emphasize how serious he was. The scientist didn't even fight back.

"Ah, Zack Fair, of course... A born star. So close to First Class... such a pity, really," the professor rambled, a faraway look on his face. Suddenly Cloud felt his knees grow weak. No. He didn't want to accept it. It couldn't be.

'Zack. No. No..'.

Zack had told him to run. Had sacrificed himself. He, who had so much to lose. A snowy valley flashed through Cloud's mind, photograph of a girl. Zack's smile.

He shook the professor again, this time in violent desperation. Hojo's head bobbed back and forth. "Answer the question, you shit!" Cloud yelled, "Where is Zack?" When Hojo didn't respond he pulled the man up, shoved him back into the chair and grabbed his arm yanking it behind the professor's back in a way an arm shouldn't bend.

Hojo screamed, lapsed into a fit of coughing and... laughed. His cold cackle echoing in the silence. Cloud hit him again, only to make him stop. Hojo's lower lip split in two. He spat blood on the floor, then raised his head, black bangs hanging on his eyes. He flashed a smirk through bloodied teeth.

"Look at you, Thirteen. Look at how weak you've become in such a very short time. How pathetic. The old you, the one I created would have torn this very hand off by the wrist to get what he wanted. But you've always been like that. Weak. Useless. It's in your nature."

"Shut up," Cloud growled. But Hojo didn't care. He was just getting started.

"I've told you this before. I went through your files. How many times was it again? Trying out for SOLDIER, never passing? All those disappointments. That must've been difficult. And yet you never gave up. Your effort was admirable but useless. You never had it in you. All you ever would have ended up as was nothing more than a failure... that is, until I came along. I think I deserve your gratitude, really."

"What?" Cloud hissed. He knew Hojo was taunting him, was deliberately trying to distract him but he couldn't resist. "What did you say?"

"You don't understand?" Hojo asked with false compassion in his voice, "Let me explain it to you then. Think about how you were. Think of your insignificant, little life. I gave meaning to it. I made you a part of something bigger, something revolutionary with the potential to change the whole world. You could have made a difference, had an impact. In a way, I helped give birth to a whole new you. I made you." His face, it was lit up with pride resembling that of a brand new father.

It was sickening. Cloud had never been so disgusted in his life.

"No," he whispered. His voice trembled with barely contained rage and loathing. "You didn't make me. You didn't create anything. You stole everything from me. My family, my friends. My life. And you treated it like it was yours to take. You're not a scientist; you're not even a man. You're filth. Now, tell me where Zack is. If you fail to do so, I will end you."

"… Where is Zack Fair?" Hojo drawled, "… Who knows? I've already forgotten about him…"

There was a sickening crack as Hojo's arm broke. He screamed again, a terrible howl of agony that let him gasping for air and squirming in pain. Cloud jammed his boot on Hojo's fingers. Another wail. It felt good.

He let go and stepped away, "Speak. What did you do to Zack?"

Hojo was squirming on the floor, cradling his ruined hand. For a while he was unable to utter a word besides incomprehensible whimpers. When his head lifted up the floor there was, for the first time, anger in his eyes gleaming through tears of pain. That hand would probably never again hold a scalpel or a syringe. Holding a pen would be a long process.

"... I offered him life as part of my research... He said no."

A loud gasp flew from Cloud's lips as he staggered away and crashed into Hojo's chair. The room was spinning. There it was. The truth. There was no need to hear more. He could only hope Zack's death had been a clean one. Humane. Panic started to take over as desperation colored his feelings and thoughts. What now? What came after this? The cure, he remembered. He needed to know about the cure, if there even was such a thing. But his resolve tore apart, drifted away from him like dead Autumn leaves. He couldn't think about anything else than Zack's unfair fate. How could he even begin to think about himself when Zack was a corpse rotting away in a plastic bag someplace far away? Because of him. He owed Zack his whole life and now he couldn't even try to pay back his debt, couldn't express the gratitude he felt... not only for saving him from Hojo, but for everything; for his kindness, his friendship, his guidance.

'Zack... Oh God. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I got you killed. I'm sorry.'

He fell down into the chair, covered his face with his gloved hands. His gut twisted with pain that wasn't physical. There was something stuck in his throat. He felt like throwing up.

He didn't react when Hojo crawled into a sitting position. The professor's whiny yet smug voice penetrated his grief-ridden thoughts,

"Do you see it now? Don't you realize it? You bring nothing but unhappiness and bad luck to those around you. Those who help you or care about you always seem to end up... well, dead. Even that poor girl."

Cloud's head snapped up, "... ... What? What did you say?"

"Oh, yes," Hojo flashed a smile that made Cloud's stomach turn, "I'm afraid that slum-dwelling guardian angel of yours had a most unfortunate run-in with burglars this morning. Sweet girl was too kindhearted for her own good. What was her name again...?"

Cloud rose. Hojo wasn't intimidated. He knew what was coming. He just wanted his last bit of fun.

"Say it," Cloud whispered, taking his gloves off. Flexing his fingers. His knuckles cracked. Mako in his blood.

"Tifa... Tifa Lockhart, if I remember correctly? It's a shame. She was so pretty, too – "

Cloud kicked Hojo in the side. Then again. And again. It wasn't enough. The professor's screams didn't make him feel better.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up..." he didn't even hear the words pouring from his lips like some frantic mantra.

He grabbed Hojo by his temples. Smashed his head into the floor. Kept smashing until the back of Hojo's head was a mess of blood, tissue, and dark hair and bone fragments. Hojo's nose was so damaged it was as if it'd exploded all over his face. His right eyeball was destroyed. Something gray was leaking through the cracks in the professor's skull.

Everything was covered in a red mist.

xxx

Cloud had no idea how he got out of ShinRa Headquarters. All he could remember was running frantically, ignoring the grating ache in his kneecap - and then the plate disappearing from under his feet. A loud crash. Falling, falling, falling...

He woke up in the middle of debris and... flowers? He willed himself to lift up his head and look around. He found himself lying on the floor of what seemed to be an old, partially collapsed church. There was a huge, gaping hole in the ceiling. So that's where he came from.

Light streamed down on him from the gash above him. It was daytime already.

Suddenly he remembered. Tifa. He shouldn't be lying around even though it felt good to rest. He was strained close to his limits. His body ached with exhaustion but his growing anxiety urged him to get back on his feet and take the first, hesitant steps. Scenarios of what he would soon see kept running through his mind, each more horrible than the one before it. He tried to stay calm but Hojo's words haunted him despite his efforts to push them away.

"...Nothing but unhappiness and bad luck to those around you..."

On the way out he nearly ran into a girl carrying a basket full of flowers. Their shoulders bumped as Cloud rushed past her. There was something familiar about her but he didn't stop to think twice about it.

"Hey!" the girl called after him, "Are you alright?"

Cloud didn't turn around. There was no time. He went outside and was back in the everlasting twilight of the slums. He didn't know this place and he had no clue of his whereabouts. He grabbed the closest person to him and probably scared the woman to death. She pointed him in the right direction nevertheless and Cloud hurried forward. At first he kept himself from running as to not draw any unwanted attention but then just gave up. He didn't care anymore. If they wanted him, all they had to do was come and get him. After all, what more could they do to him? Kill him or throw him in a jail to rot for the rest of his life? To Cloud, both seemed like relatively good options. Hojo was dead and knowing what a secretive bastard he had been, so was his work. He was gone and Cloud was finally free from him.

So he ran through one sector after the other until his surroundings started to look familiar. Then he ran even faster, the beat of his heart close to thunder in his ears. He nearly fell down face first when he heard a faint but definite 'pop' come from his knee. Pain, horrible pain as if someone had put a screw in his knee and was now twisting it. His face twisted and his eyes watered but he had to go on. He had to. He would crawl there if need be.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of moving forward any way he could with a pace way too slow for his liking he saw Tifa's building. The stairs. His leg kept trembling and every step sent waves of pain up his thigh and spine. Just a couple of steps more, he kept chanting in his mind. He was sweating all over and yet he felt cold to his core.

He reached the door. It was open. His insides turned to lead when he saw it was kicked in.

Cloud took a breath, listened for noises coming from inside. Nothing. The place was empty.

He opened the door with a tentative push and peeked in. The whole apartment was in chaos; doors hanging off their hinges, furniture overturned, drapes ripped down. The kitchen was in a similar state. Cupboards were wide open, all the plates on the floor in bits and pieces. No sign of Tifa so far. He came to the bedroom. The knot in his gut tightened and his hands kept trembling. Tifa's mattress was cut, the fillings bursting out quite grotesquely. Her scent still lingered in the room. Clothes and personal belongings were scattered all over the floor. Framed photographs of her family, broken and shattered. He glanced at one of the pictures. Tifa as a ten-year-old, grinning from ear to ear, parents smiling fondly behind her. Her father looking slightly uncomfortable. Cloud thought about his mom. How she must have suffered. Just like Tifa had.

"... Unhappiness and bad luck..." He couldn't close his ears from the voices inside his head.

She was probably still sleeping when they came in. Men in uniforms, men she didn't know. She had no idea what was going on, and yet Cloud knew she wouldn't have gone down without a fight. She was strong, too, so she could take care of a couple of them, but not all of them. They'd overpower her, force her on her knees, put her hands behind her back and tie her wrists so tight the cord would bite deep into her skin... Cloud closed his eyes as if the visions were real and he could hide from them.

'Brave girl.'

How did Hojo know? How did he find her? From the moment Cloud heard Tifa's name leave Hojo's lips he'd held on to the smallest bit of hope that the professor had been bluffing, that it was all a lie just to fuck with his head one last time.

The worst part was that Tifa had nothing to do with this. It was just as Hojo had put it; she was too kind hearted for her own good. Even when he had hurt her, almost killed her, did she forgive him. She'd been too good, too kind.

Cloud opened his eyes and looked at his hands. They were smeared with Hojo's blood. His knuckles were bloody and bruised. Not so long ago same these hands held Tifa, stroked her skin. But everything he touched was tainted by him and turned to something dark and bleak. His blood might've been contaminated with Mako, but there was a disease inside him much more dangerous - and much more contagious.

It was time to go. There was nothing left to do.

Cloud left the apartment for the last time and disappeared into the slums.

AN: So is Tifa dead or not? ... I'm not telling! See you in the last chapter!