InsaneJournal

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Entry tags:	ffvii, fic

[FIC] FFVII-- "The Tower"
Title: The Tower
Author: WriterZilch
Rating: PG-13 for blood and violence.
Summary: Which way is up? The world shudders again, and he wants to scream. Where are his Turks?
Notes: Written while watching Advent Children.




For far too long, all Rufus can see is white.

***

Pain comes back to him first, before sight or hearing or anything remotely useful. Pain, screaming in his head, his middle, his legs-- Everything, pain.

He chokes on air, struggles to breathe. There's a taste in his mouth, a strange salt-metal tang. It takes far too long for him to recognize it as blood.

Get up.

He's lying on the floor, or what used to be the floor. He gropes blindly (startled by the sudden thought, My arms are still here) and encounters rubble, dust.

Somewhere behind him, there is heat, a great wall of it. Somehow he knows it is coming closer.

The world around him shudders violently-- it's then that he hears the sirens, the blazing of klaxons at full alarm. Is he only now noticing it, or was he really struck deaf for the last few moments?

Get UP.

He still can't see anything, but now it's dark. Which way is up? The world shudders again, and he wants to scream. Where are his Turks? Why aren't they here? He almost calls Tseng's name, but he's too busy coughing to get the word out. He smells smoke now, acrid and thick.

His world is falling down.

He drags himself forward, ignoring the smoke and the pain and the way everything trembles and tilts crazily, as if the tower is shaking itself to pieces. He coughs again, feels blood spatter on his lips.

Get up. Get OUT. You're going to die.

Getting to his feet wrenches a scream from deep inside as broken ribs grind-- he's never screamed before today. Rufus lurches unsteadily, bangs hard against a wall, manages to catch himself before he can fall down again. It takes all his willpower to hold onto that wall and breathe without passing out.

Only then does he realize that he's squeezing his eyes shut.

The world swims, hazy and blurred, when he finally opens them. There's a flash burned into his retinas still, and he wants more than anything to close them again. If only he could sit down, if only he could gather his strength...

There's wetness against his side. He doesn't want to look, knows what he's going to see when he does, but he's still vaguely shocked when he finds his immaculate white coat soaked through with blood. His blood. He's never seen so much of it before, has, until now, thought of blood as something that comes out of other people.

The tower shudders again, rocks so violently that he nearly loses his footing. Stairs. Get to the stairs. They're only a few feet away. To Rufus, the distance might as well be a mile.

Gritting his teeth, Rufus takes the first step.

***

Everything, darkness. Everything, pain.

***

"--oss! Boss! Over here!"

Everything sounds so far away, as if he's hearing voices from the far end of a tunnel.

"President!" He knows that voice. "Rufus!" He's never heard it like this before. Why does it sound so strange?

"Oh god, oh god." The world is starting to filter back, in fits and starts. He's in so much pain he doesn't know what to call it anymore, as if it's transcended to an entirely new and un-thought-of level. Despite that, he almost laughs. Why is Elena sobbing? You're a Turk, he wants to remind her. You never let them see you cry.

"No, don't move him--" Everything blanks out, and then sharpens again; suddenly, the world is painfully loud, louder even than the ringing in his ears. "Reno, get something to get this off him. Rude, help him. Elena. Elena!"

More sobbing. "Sir."

"Get someone. Medics. Anyone." A pause. Rufus can hear his heart beating, sluggish and unnatural. "Go!"

He wonders if he's going to die. The thought is floating, unattached to anything like fear. That would be a shame, he thinks, now that my Turks are here.

It's starting not to hurt, now. Rufus somehow knows that he could let go, right now, and nothing would ever hurt again.

"Boss, hang in there," Reno says, like he's choking on the words, like he's sobbing, too, as naked as Elena.

He's probably going to die, anyway. He's lost so much blood. How long has it been, since the world came crashing down?

But it would be such a shame, to die now, in front of his Turks. So weak. He draws in a wheezing breath.

Then he opens his eyes.