Chapter Text
Dyne had known men lost in mine collapses. It always happened too fast. The beam of your headlamp was too narrow to catch what you felt in the tremor of the mountain, in your gut. Men shouted, reacted as fast as they were able, but only sometimes was it enough.
This wasn't the dark of a shaft, but it was one of those times all the same. He experienced it in flashes. The village headman running up to them with his frantic warning, in the next moment shot dead. The sight of the village burning, distant, in the backs of his eyelids. They were running, and then Barret's hand was in his, all his weight dangling over the cliff, dragging Dyne down into one moment that lasted longer than all the rest, but still not long enough.
However he willed it, when the spray of bullets tore through his arm, he let go.
Barret wasn't the only soul that day to die from something other than the fire. Dyne arrived to find bodies shot in the street. The survivors had escaped out back and cellar doors, and only a handful had withstood the smoke, huddled inside burning buildings until the soldiers had gone.
Eleanor, poor Eleanor, must have been cut off from the back door by the fire; that part of the house had already collapsed by the time he arrived. What she had done was put Marlene out their tiny kitchen window--no one to take her, just hoping. Dyne found her wailing, gathered her against his chest, and cried with her.
Shinra blamed the tragedy on the same imaginary rebels who'd caused the accident at the reactor, and Dyne wanted to shout the truth in the face of every bleeding heart volunteer who showed up to help, but he couldn't afford to make himself a target. He let them treat his arm and give him baby formula, and tried to think about what Eleanor would have done. She wasn't a vengeful woman; her last act had been one of blind trust in her community.
So with his stump still healing and Marlene in hand, Dyne went around the camp at North Corel and tried to make sure everyone was getting what they needed. A month in, they were handling distribution of donated food themselves and helping out in the makeshift clinic so that when the doctors inevitably went home, they wouldn't take all their medical knowledge with them.
One of them told him about a procedure he could get in Junon, a port grafted onto his arm for various prosthetics. The brochure included pictures not only of hands but weapons. He thought about it.
He didn't want to leave Marlene for the time it took to make the trip.
That was the thought he held onto, anyway, whenever he saw the Shinra workers headed up the mountain to the reactor. For them, the accident had only been a setback. The construction would be completed behind schedule, but once they moved on to the next project, they'd forget the lost time.
When Dyne saw them, he wanted to change that. He wanted to make it memorable for them, just as it was burned into his own memory. He'd held a gun, but he'd never shot a person before. Something in the back of his mind whispered that the Shinra weren't people.
But inevitably, before he could do more than clench his fist and glare, Marlene would start fussing, or Delma would call him in to break up a fight over rations, or he'd find old man Tyrell waiting at the station out of habit, forgetting that only Shinra used it these days. Dyne would walk him home to his granddaughter, knowing how important they'd become to each other with the rest of their family dead.
More than vengeance, Dyne didn't want these people to lose any more than they already had. If he held a gun again, he decided, it would be to defend them.
It was barely six months since the disaster when Dio showed up with his offer. He was building a goddamn amusement park to the south of them, suspiciously close, it sounded, to where Corel had been. The reactor had gotten up and running, but he'd need a pipeline built to bring power to the park. The most direct route was through land they still owned.
Dyne wanted to spit in his face, but the others wanted to hear him out. Winter loomed on the horizon, and they had so little to carry them through it.
Just a pipeline. It would pass by a little to the west, not disturbing the camp they'd built. He even pitched some kind of transit system that could run through North Corel, bringing them tourist traffic.
To Dyne, it sounded no different from the offer Scarlet had given them. A way to survive if they just gave up a few more pieces of themselves, but these rich assholes didn't give a shit about their survival. He could tell the others didn't trust it either; they only considered it believing it might be their only option.
It wasn't. It couldn't be. Hadn't they made it six months since the fire? Not without help, but they hadn't taken anything with strings attached.
He made himself insufferable, driven by his own desperation. When Scarlet had come, the others hadn't seen it. They'd given themselves over to Barret's optimistic belief in that better future Shinra offered them, and Dyne's warnings had fallen on deaf ears. This time, they heard his warnings without any counterbalance, knowing he'd been right all along.
When Dio came for their decision, they turned him down. But Dyne wasn't so sure that'd be the end of it.
Six months ago, North Corel had been nothing but a collection of ruined buildings, an old station town abandoned decades ago. The kind of shelter you'd only go looking for with no other options. But it was close to the mines, and the mines had always been what held them up.
There was no going back to coal. The reactor's activation had seen to that. But all the equipment was still there, and still theirs.
Shinra had tried to wipe them out when they'd cooperated. Dyne had no intention of being caught unprepared when Dio's interests decided they needed to be eliminated for daring to say no.
Dio had more patience than Shinra, Dyne would give him that. Over the next year and half, they watched Gold Saucer slowly take shape on the horizon, and every few months, the jackass would show up to ask, again. They turned him down, again.
It was only once the park was nearing completion that Dio stopped asking for permission, and invited Shinra in to take what he wanted.
The Corel Desert used to be a different kind of place, even a year ago, the dry earth dotted with hardy scrub and desert birds flitting out of sight at your approach. Now, the land was still save for the shift of sand in the wind. The cacti held out as dots of green across the landscape, but most other plants had been reduced to bleached tangles of desiccated branches.
Dyne crouched with his men in the late afternoon shade of a low outcropping, the base of Gold Saucer just in sight to the east. He would've liked to get a closer look, but everything between them and the park was exposed sand, and this was just a scouting mission.
It was good that he'd brought the others with him. Looking through his binoculars, bile rose in his throat. He'd expected to see the Shinra trucks and their construction vehicles unloading lengths of pipe. What he hadn't expected was to recognize, behind them, the old pub, fire-damaged but still standing. A few other ruined buildings scattered about.
Gold Saucer was right on top of Corel, right on top of it, and they'd just left its bones out to bleach in the sun. The Shinra workers barely even had to glance up to see what they'd wrought. And they didn't give a shit.
He had a rifle slung over his shoulder, a precaution, not a plan, but he wanted to grab it. He tightened his grip around the binoculars. The dry desert air burned in his lungs. He counted seconds, and passed the binoculars to Glen.
"Don't see any kinda camp," Boone commented tersely when it was his turn. "You figure they let 'em sleep somewhere in the Saucer?"
"Plenty o' room in there for employee dorms," Glen reasoned. "Place's gonna need a lotta staff if it ever gets up an' runnin'."
"Point is not to let it," Dyne muttered, staring at the distant shape of the old pub. He shook his head. "We oughtta stick around another few hours 'til it gets dark. See if they leave any kinda guard. But most o' those ain't soldiers; I don't think they're expectin' any trouble."
Glen threw him an uneasy glance. "We really gonna do this? They're gonna know it's sabotage."
"They didn't need us to do jack shit last time. We do this on our own terms, an' we're prepared for the consequences."
He hoped they were prepared. He was suddenly hit with the powerful desire to be at home with Marlene. Aisha and her grandfather were looking after her now, and they'd be the ones to put her to bed tonight, not him. It made his heart twist, knowing there was every chance for that to become a permanent arrangement. Dyne could get himself killed doing this, and his efforts to protect North Corel might not be any different for Marlene than when Eleanor had put her out that window.
"Dyne!" Boone said sharply.
Gunfire preempted any questions, and distant shouts drew Dyne's attention to the workers scrambling for cover. The handful of soldiers lifted their rifles, and Dyne followed their aim to a figure which had appeared from the base of the Saucer.
"Is that...?" Glen whispered.
It couldn't be.
Dyne took the binoculars from Boone with shaking fingers.
It was a face burned into his memory, one he'd last seen contorted in pain. It was the same and different all at once, mouth worked into a grimace, but in his eyes wasn't the fear and desperation of a man who only wanted to make it home to his wife. She was dead, and home was gone, and what was left was fury.
On his arm--his right arm--was one of those gun prosthetics that Dyne had never gone to get. It flashed with rapid fire that tore through the Shinra workers and soldiers alike. Barret made no effort to seek cover, but they couldn't seem to hit him. They were terrified.
"What do we do?" asked Glen.
Dyne watched another man fall through the binoculars. Barret never flinched. The Barret he'd known couldn't have done this, couldn't have watched a man die without feeling something. But hadn't Dyne wanted to, just minutes ago, watching these vultures pick at Corel?
He shoved the binoculars into his pack and tugged on the strap of his rifle, checking for its weight.
"He's one of ours," he said tightly. "We help 'im."
"But--" Glen began.
"We help 'im," Dyne repeated, fixing the other man with a hard look. Glen swallowed and nodded.
He didn't think 'help' in this situation would mean much fighting. By the time they reached the scene, most of the workers were dead, and the last soldier was pinned down behind a truck. Barret jerked his gun-arm towards them at their approach, but he froze at the sight of them. The soldier sprang up and took aim.
Dyne shot him first. Something cold went through him, watching the man fall. He'd acted without thinking, his instincts changed from what they'd been two years ago when the headman had come running ahead of those soldiers. He'd played that moment over in his mind so many times, knowing that even if he'd had a gun, back then, he still would have frozen. He still would've watched the old man die, and run, and lost Barret, too. He'd played it over in his mind, telling himself things would go differently if he were ever in that spot again.
Boone had run ahead to check the soldier. When he looked back at Dyne, his curt nod confirmed that the man was dead. Dyne had killed him. It didn't feel like redemption.
He shifted his attention to Barret, who hadn't lowered his gun-arm. Dyne took a cautious step towards him.
"It's over," he said.
"Dyne..." Barret said. His voice was rough with disuse. "The hell're you doin' here?"
Dyne glanced towards the piping and construction vehicles. "Think we're both here for the same reason."
"Guess I beat you to it."
"...we weren't plannin' on killin' anybody."
"No?" Barret snorted. "What, just gonna... sabotage the equipment? They got more where that came from."
"An' there's more men, too," Dyne agreed. "What Dio don't got is infinite money. Saucer ain't runnin' to make 'im any more just yet."
Barret shifted the aim of his gun-arm in a slow gesture, pointing it towards the base of Gold Saucer. "You think he'll let you bleed 'im 'til he just gives up?"
"Yeah, they're gonna hit back. But we're ready, this time."
"They're gonna hit back no matter how you come at 'em, so why not make it how they deserve?"
"Barret..." He hadn't been this man before, but Dyne hadn't been either. At the edge of his vision, Boone still crouched beside the soldier he'd shot. "I get it, man. I get it," he said. "But these guys ain't the root of it."
"Nah, they're just part of it," Barret said. "Happy to carry it all out." He adjusted his aim again, and at the yelp of alarm from somewhere behind him, Dyne realized this time he had a real target.
He couldn't think of aiming his rifle at Barret, and he knew it wouldn't stop him anyway. Dyne shoved his hand into his pocket instead, closed his fingers around the materia there, and cast Sleep. Barret was so keyed up, he didn't think it would work, but the big man dropped like a sack of potatoes.
Only then did he turn to see the worker who'd sought shelter inside one of the pipes. He flinched away from Dyne's look as though it were as deadly as Barret's gun.
Dyne nodded to Boone and Glen. "You two check for survivors," he said. "I'm gonna see if I can get this thing off."
He strode the remaining paces to Barret and knelt at his right side. He felt around the base of the gun-arm, his fingers running first over the safety and the magazine release before he found what looked like a catch for the whole arm. He flipped it, and awkwardly twisted the gun out of its base port. It was heavy, a much heavier weight than the gun slung over his own shoulder. He set it down out of reach.
Only then did he really look at Barret. Even unconscious, his face had the haggard look of someone who hadn't slept in days. His beard, always trimmed so neatly before to just the length Myrna liked, looked like it hadn't seen clippers in at least a month, and his hair was the same. He'd lost weight, muscle wiry on his arms and his shirt hanging off a frame with no spare flesh to soften it. There was something off about his left leg, and Dyne pushed up the hem of his pants to reveal a brace.
He could only begin to imagine what Barret had been through since the fall, but he thought he understood something of the man's mindset.
They were just part of it. Happy to carry it all out.
Barret had thrown his support behind the reactor proposal. He'd been Shinra's primary liaison with the townsfolk. Dyne had gone along grudgingly, wanting to believe in his friend's vision for the future, one that saw them all prosperous and healthy.
"Three workers still alive," Boone said. Dyne hadn't noticed his approach. "Though one of 'em don't look too good," Boone added. "We told 'em to stay put for now. What d'you wanna do with 'em?"
Dyne didn't answer. Killing them hadn't been the plan--not to start. If Shinra came for Corel, they'd fight back, but this was different. He'd never imagined taking prisoners. Was there a use for that?
"...might not work out so bad, leavin' witnesses," Boone proposed into his silence. "Don't think they saw how that last guy went down. It's Barret who did the killin'. We came in an' stopped 'im. This don't have to come down on North Corel."
"What?" Dyne said, his attention snapping into focus. "You want Barret to take the fall?"
"Ain't exactly misplaced when he's the one did this."
"He's one of ours," Dyne stated.
"Oh yeah? Where the hell's he been these past two years?"
"It's his fault we're in any of this to begin with," Glen added.
Dyne opened his mouth, and then he realized Glen wasn't just reiterating that Barret was the one who'd killed these men. "You all voted for that fuckin' reactor, too," he said.
"We didn't fuckin' campaign for it," said Boone.
Dyne straightened up. "Is this how you been thinkin' all this time? Blame somebody else so you keep your conscience clean? None o' you listened to me back then, an' I shoulda pushed harder, an' that's somethin' we all gotta carry. Barret's here... 'cause he knows what a mistake that was. He ain't any different from you."
Glen glanced uncertainly at Barret while Boone held Dyne's gaze, but they both knew the argument was over.
"The original plan's fucked," Dyne went on, "so we're gonna sabotage what we can now an' then take Barret back with us. We'll leave the workers, an' they can say whatever they're gonna say."
The two men nodded, and they got to work. They'd meant to return a day or two after this scouting mission with more equipment, but they made use of what was on site to damage the pipes before they stripped any parts they could use from the machinery and smashed up the engines.
They left one truck in tact, hauled Barret into its bed, and drove off into the desert twilight. With all the dead bodies, the theft of one vehicle wasn't going to change how Shinra came down on them, just like taking hostages wouldn't slow Shinra down one second.
Dyne just hoped they really were ready, this time.
When they got back, Dyne dispatched a fresher team to go keep eyes on the Saucer. He wasn't sure how quickly Dio would react. With their original plans, they figured Dio might retaliate with just the small security force already stationed at the Saucer, wrongly assuming North Corel would be easily intimidated. After Barret's slaughter, he'd be more likely to reach out to the military base at Costa del Sol first for reinforcements.
They'd expected that kind of escalation eventually, so they'd get through it. It was just so soon. His heart was racing as he sent people through North Corel to spread word of the situation.
They carried Barret underground right away, laying him out on the floor of what served as their base of operations. Dyne didn't want him near anybody's family until he'd had the chance to talk to him.
Wasn't that a fucked up thing to think? Up in town, Marlene was probably asleep by now, but more than once Dyne had put her to bed with stories of her Uncle Barret. He should've been someone to welcome back in with open arms.
Dyne sat on the dirt floor beside him, figuring he'd probably wake soon. He ran his fingers over his stump as he traced the scars on Barret's arm with his eyes. Dyne had made it back to Corel, and the other survivors had helped him with his wounds.
Who the fuck had Barret had to help him?
Barret vaulted to a sitting position the moment he opened his eyes, rocking too far forward and jerking his attention to his empty prosthetic port. His eyes swept the room before they landed warily on Dyne. "Where...?"
"North Corel," Dyne answered. At Barret's confused squint, he went on, "We been busy. Town don't look like much on the surface, but we got tunnels runnin' all underneath, let out in the mountains. Always got a way out, now."
"You think that'll be enough?"
"Nobody knows these mountains like we do. It's our turf."
Barret said nothing. His expression remained guarded.
"Where've you been, Barret?" Dyne asked. "How did you...?"
Barret snorted. "Now you're askin'?"
"I thought you were dead, man."
"Might as well be."
Dyne leaned closer, but stopped short of touching Barret's shoulder when he stiffened. "Hey, don't fuckin' talk like that. You're here, ain't you?" Barret's expression said he didn't want to be, which made Dyne's chest tighten. He'd spent all this time trying to get his community back on its feet, and none of that work had been for Barret.
"...you went to Junon, right?" he tried.
"Huh?"
Dyne gestured at the port grafted onto his arm. "For that operation. They told me about it, too, but... I didn't wanna leave Marlene."
Barret blinked. "Marlene... She's alive?"
"Just turned two the other month."
Barret stared at him for a long moment, and then he sunk his face into his hand. "Shit," he said. "Dyne, you can't be thinkin'... I don't belong here. You gotta let me go."
"You think you're some kinda prisoner?"
"...ain't I?"
Dyne shook his head. "We brought you back here 'cause you're one of us."
"You knocked me out," Barret pointed out.
"Well..." Dyne ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah, I did do that. Seemed like the quickest way to put a pause on things 'til we could talk it out."
"What's there to talk about? I got a mission."
"A mission? Is that what you call it?"
"Yeah." Barret's hand came to rest on the end of his right arm. "Gonna take out as many of 'em as I can."
Dyne shook his head. "Way you're goin' about it, you won't get that many before they take you out."
"You think those were the first?" Barret asked, and Dyne went cold. "An' what's your plan?" Barret continued. "You think you can get through this without killin' anybody? They're gonna come for you. They're gonna come for Marlene. Won't give a damn she's just a kid. You gonna put everybody to sleep then, too?"
"No," Dyne said. "No, we're gonna fight them. But the damn construction workers weren't gonna shoot anybody."
"Nah, they just help set the board," said Barret.
Dyne looked him in the eye. "Like you?"
Barret held his gaze for just a moment before he broke it, looking down, his jaw set.
"This's about the reactor, ain't it?" Dyne pressed. "You think you screwed us over an' you gotta make up for it."
"I did screw us all over," Barret insisted. "Myrna's dead 'cause I gambled her life on the wrong future. Lotta people're dead, an' we gotta send a message so the world knows what happens when they deal with Shinra."
Dyne raised an eyebrow. "'Some crazy asshole's gonna shoot you'?"
"You'll wind up dead," Barret corrected darkly.
Dyne shook his head. "You know Shinra. You know people. Or at least, you oughtta. You think that would've stopped us, back then? What we needed was more faith in ourselves. Knowin' we didn't need Shinra for any o' the shit we wanted. If you'd known another way to secure a future for Myrna, you'd've taken it."
Barret said nothing, but he didn't look away this time. He was waiting on Dyne's next words, waiting on them like a way out that he didn't really believe in.
"There ain't no goin' back an' fixin' what we did wrong," Dyne said, because he couldn't lie to him. "But we can do things right now."
"I can't be a part o' that," Barret said gruffly, but he wasn't gone yet.
"Why not? I'm askin' you, an'..." Dyne hesitated, swallowing. Barret was carrying enough guilt that Dyne didn't need to add to it. He didn't want to say it--that when Shinra had come the last time, Barret hadn't had his back. He'd left him as the sole voice against the reactor. But he did want to say it, even so, because this was the closest they'd get to a do-over. "...I could use you backin' me up, this time," he finished.
Barret drew in a long breath. He glanced up at the earth above his head, towards the town. "What about...?"
"...I ain't gonna lie to you," Dyne said. "I don't know what kinda reception you're gonna get. There's at least a few folks been blamin' you all this time, an' I didn't realize it. But I'm gonna set 'em straight. Puttin' it all on you ain't any different from Shinra foisting the blame on everybody else. There's no doin' better without acceptin' the parts we all played in gettin' here."
Some tension in Barret deflated, and Dyne knew he wasn't going anywhere. "...you really think like that?" Barret asked him.
"You fucked up," Dyne said plainly. "We all fucked up. That's life. I don't wanna sit around pointin' fingers, I want my best friend back."
Barret's voice was hoarse. "Dunno if I can give you that," he said, "but I can watch your back."