#jessiebiggswedge

[the-bar-sinister]

We Could Be Heroes (3548 words) by thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 1/1 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, internal alternate universe, Background Poly, Backstory, Underage Drinking, Military, Biggs Wedge and Jessie join SOLDIER, POV Jessie, POV Wedge Summary: 1999: After having been ousted from the board of executives by young president Rufus Shinra, Scarlet and Heidegger returned to Midgar and took over the secret Deepground installation, inciting a mutiny against Shinra which resulted in a devastating attack on the city from within.   Jessie, Biggs and Wedge reunite in the wake of the devastation and make a decision together that will change all of their lives.

-

The city of Midgar was in a state of cautious recovery after the devastation. The so-called 'Deepground forces' had been driven out of Midgar through the efforts of public security, the Turks, and especially its heroes– SOLDIER's 1st class units. 

Deepground's attack had torn through Midgar, leaving everything from homes to businesses in shambles. Too many dead, and even more wounded— it was a tragedy that sat heavy in Jessie Rasberry's chest as she wandered the streets filled with rubble.

This was her home. Her family, thankfully, had survived. Her childhood home not so much. With enough time for the evacuation order they'd fled the suburbs, only to eventually return home to pock-marked walls and collapsed, flame singed roofs.

Some of her neighbors weren't so lucky. But now it was time to build again—recover, as best they all could.

With a heavy heart, Jessie had gone back to her job for the first time since the attacks. Loveless Avenue Theater with its great billboard flickering and shattered from the damage. It still showed her role in the female lead of Midgar's favorite play.

It was a wreck. Far from the glorious theater she'd eagerly worked in. Bit parts in the beginning (The Streets of Midgar—her first role. The young salesgirl), giving rise rapidly to larger and larger roles. She was passionate—eager, made for the stage according to the theater directors.

She'd just gotten the role of Rosa when the fighting started.

People milled around, murmuring about reconstruction—salvage teams, Shinra redevelopment—but she was transfixed by her shattered visage on the tall electronic screen, and the rubble collapsed over the front door.

"Guess the show's cancelled," she murmured to herself.

It seemed that she wasn't the only one who'd come to check on the theater though. As she looked at the rubble over the front door she noticed a figure working to shift it out of the way of the entrance.

Jessie's eyes oriented on them, and she took a few steps forward with her arms folded behind her back. "Need a hand?" 

Wedge paused what he was doing, turning around to look up at her with his big, dark eyes as he wiped his brow. He was one of the stagehands– a set painter– who worked with the theater. He was young, solid, and rather round faced, with hair that was always flopping in his eyes. He'd only been working with the theater for the last six months or so, but he was dedicated and passionate. It looked like he'd been hard at work shifting the rubble for a while.

He smiled up at her. "Oh, Jessie! You're okay!"

Jessie paused to pull her hair back and tie it with a red ribbon so it didn't fall in her face, before she hurried over and gave him her best smile—as an actress, she could manage the best smile anyone could in a disaster like this.

Aside from Wedge, who's smile always lit up the room. She'd tried to goad him into taking a role sometime on the stage—it'd never worked. 

"Sure am, Wedge! Heh, it'll take more than some neon-obsessed freaks to take me down! I'm glad you're alright too!"

She bent down and tried to grab a rock to shift it out of the way—it was heavy, but she wasn't exactly weak. Dancing took more muscle than people thought. 

He nodded, and started back to work alongside her. "We got out pretty early, thankfully. It was scary to come back and see what happened though. Have you heard from Biggs at all? Was he at work when it happened?"

Unlike the two of them, Biggs—a close friend, one who provided the theater with prop weapons for their shows—had what Wedge's grandmother would have called 'a real job'. He was a machinist and repairman at one of the many weapon shops around Midgar, mostly repairing firearms and swords, which was how he got most of the stock he loaned to the theater.

"Yeah, he was at work when it all went down. He got out though. He's probably on his way over by now, he just said he had to check up on something in the Sector 5 slums."

It was probably the orphanage. 

Wedge nodded quietly, as he shifted a particularly large chunk of rubble from in front of the door to over beside it. They were almost far enough through to get the door open.

"Good. Oh! I climbed up the ladders a couple blocks away and looked– I think most of this rubble is from the building next door. There's a hole in the theater roof, but I couldn't tell how bad it was."

That was good—she was thinking a large part of the theater had caved in. But–maybe there was still enough to salvage if most of this was from next door.

"We'll just have to get inside and see, huh?"

Footfalls from behind them came before the low drawl of a very familiar voice. "Someone's hard at work. Room for one more?"

Biggs approached, bandanna around his forehead to keep his dark, windswept hair from his face. He was the oldest of them—but not by terribly much. "Orphanage is fine. Sector 5 Undercity lucked out." 

"Biggs!" Wedge's bright smile flashed again as he approached. Jessie knew that Wedge held the older boy in a high esteem, looking up to him, and definitely envying his independence. 

Jessie grinned at him as she hopped up, pointing to him. "You're late, mr. Thick of the Action! You were supposed to meet me at the train station!"

Biggs chuckled as he held his hands up. 

"Hey, hey. Blame those Deepground guys, they invaded the old man's store and cleared out our inventory before torching the place. Had to help him sift through the ashes before he let me off to check on the orphans."

He turned his grin to Wedge. "Glad to see you're doing good too, Wedge. Holding up alright? Home's ok?" 

Wedge nodded seriously. "For the most part. It's pretty crowded right now though. Grandma's agreed to put up some of our neighbors who weren't so lucky."

"Nice of her, but it's good of you to get out then," Biggs nodded as he helped shift the last of the rubble away. "Gets stifling being in a huge group like that."

Jessie nodded. Admittedly she had to agree. Her parents were currently housed up in one of the relief compounds, a series of temporary houses and tents meant for those who'd lost their homes while the rebuilding happened. It was crowded—chaotic, she was happy to leave out here to the relative calm of Loveless Ave.

She stood, dusting herself off and putting her hand on the door. "ready to see how bad it looks? 'Cause I'm gonna be honest guys, I dunno if we're going to make opening night." 

Wedge bit his lip and nodded, his soft eyes worried now. "We'll probably have to delay it. Although, if we put on a free dress rehearsal outside, it might lift people's spirits, right?"

Biggs rubbed his neck "if you can get most of the actors to agree to it, yeah." He glanced out at the street—the normally bustling avenue was mostly filled with construction crews and inspectors from Shinra's main office.

"I'd agree in a heartbeat—but I haven't heard from the director at all since this went down." Jessie mused as she tested the door handle. 

"Oh…"

The door opened. There was a hissing sound as loose sandy rubble escaped from somewhere, falling like sand as Jessie pushed carefully inside.

The hole in the roof was bigger than Wedge had hoped. About half of the audience area of the theater was covered in chunks of settled debris.

And then there was the stage.

The stage was a disaster—carefully crafted stage decorations, including the elaborate clockwork centerpiece had fallen into heaps of wood and iron, the stage was cracked down the middle from the force of a falling beam, the curtains in tatters.

It turned Jessie's stomach to see it—the place she'd pinned her hopes and dreams reduced to rubble by some bastards who crawled out of nowhere to wreck people's lives.

She was going to be an actress. 

Nobody would be acting here for a long , long time.

"Fuck," Biggs succinctly murmured, rubbing his neck. "...that whole stage is gonna have to be replaced—and just by looking I can say a lot of the structural supports are gone. This is…"

He trailed off, but Jessie knew what he probably meant to say.

This was a tragedy, on top of even greater tragedies. It was a twist of the knife. "Oh.." 

Wedge hung his head, his shoulders drooping, and his bandana hanging limp. "Aw man… I really hoped…. it would have been a little better than this."

She heard a little sniff from him– it was obvious he was trying not to cry.

Jessie reached over, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders for comfort, both her own, and his. She felt the hot sting of tears in her own eyes. 

"Me too, but looks like Deepground had other ideas. Heh. Must—must have been when they sent those weird airships on that bombing run."

"Tch,the bastards…" Biggs grimaced, before he placed his hand on top of Wedge's head. "Alright. Alright. Sitting here, lookin' at this and feeling bad isn't gonna help any of us. I got a plan." 

Wedge sniffled again, and rested a hand on each of them in return. He looked up, and nodded. "What's the plan, Biggs?"

"We're going to have a fucking drink. That's the plan." Biggs laughed sharply and rustled his hair, as Jessie looked up with a lopsided smile.

"You know, that's probably the only plan you coulda suggested that'd tear me away from this." She admitted. "Alright, alright. I assume you know a bar that's not leveled?"

"Never underestimate my nose for a good drink, Jes." Biggs slapped her on the back before he ushered them both out of the ruined theater. "Come on." 

-

Biggs was good on his word; he'd taken them down into the sector 5 undercity–, which as he'd mentioned earlier was remarkably intact.

While the damage was extensive most houses were still standing, and the bar was open and bustling. It only took a little nudging to get them a table in the corner, as Biggs went to grab a round of drinks from the counter.

Wedge looked around nervously, unwilling to admit that this was going to be his first time drinking, aside from a sip or two at cast parties with the theater. His grandmother frowned on drinking, and wasn't going to like it if he came home drunk or smelling like alcohol, but, well, he probably wasn't going to be coming back for a while, right?

Besides, if there was ever a time to start drinking, now was it.

He smiled a little at Jessie. "No surprise this place is busy with most everywhere out of commission, right?"

Jessie chuckled, leaning on her hands to give him that bright stage grin she liked to wear. "No surprise at all—hell, I'd say people need the drinks more than ever. Everyone else is up shit creek, but the bartenders are gonna make a killing." 

"Well, they'll deserve it, it's not like bartending's easy, right?" he leaned his chin in his hands, keeping his chair scooted close to Jessie's– both to make more room for the crowd around them, and also because it helped keep him from shaking to be close to someone else.

Nobody had thought that an army could attack Midgar from actually inside of it. Nobody had been ready for it. What kind of world was it that they were just living their lives one day, and then the next everything was in chaos?

Jessie sat up a little more, and her hand rested against his arm as she nodded/ 

"I'd say. It's hard work, especially if you're any good at it. Anyone can just slap some liquor together and call it a cocktail, but it takes a real expert to make something halfway decent."

She laughed. it was well known that Jessie had a tendency to… overindulge… during cast parties. Wedge knew that that was probably not great, especially with the way his Grandma railed against that kind of thing, but it was hard to complain seeing Jessie all bubbly and cuddly when she was drunk. He hoped it would cheer her up, now, too.

And he hoped maybe it would do the same for him. Seeing the theater in shambles like that had been a heavy blow. He hated to admit it, but he had been hanging a lot of his hopes that it would be easy to put back together, but now he was worried that they'd just have to abandon it.

He tried to push the thoughts away as he nodded along to what Jessie was saying. Not that he'd know a good cocktail from a bad one.

"Yeah, it's like its own kind of art form, right?"

Jessie flipped her hair over her shoulder with a laugh. "Exactly. LIke acting or painting, but only almost as great." she winked. "...but like, there's a world of difference between something like a Gold Cactuar and like—'The Plate'."

The plate, she'd shown him once, being just a housemade 'moonshine' with a single slice of lemon floating in it in the vague shape of one of Midgar's plates. It was a vile, acidic, burn your nosehairs kind of drink. 

Wedge had regretted even sipping it.

Speaking of which– he glanced over to where Biggs was bringing their drinks over.

"What are we having today, anyway?"

Biggs slammed the glasses down on the table with enough skill to keep a drop from spilling. Three of them in deep gold with a sprig of gysahl greens in each.

He chuckled. "Figured we could use something stiff. It's a Chocoblast. Don't worry, it don't actually taste like the greens, but it will knock your socks off."

Jessie took it, tilting it in her hand. "Huh, it's pretty, I'll give it that." 

"Prettier than The Plate anyway," Wedge murmured, picking up the glass and giving it a sniff. It smelled like paint thinner. 

This was going to be an experience.

Jessie raised her glass. "A toast! to…I dunno. Being alive, I guess."

Biggs raised his glass in turn. "I can do one better."

Wedge cocked his head. "Oh? What's your toast, Biggs?"

Just being alive was good, but maybe Biggs had something more.

Biggs chuckled under his breath before he flashed a sly grin at Wedge. "I'm gonna shoot for revenge."

Jessie had put her glass to her lips with a roll of her eyes, and very nearly spit out her first sip. "WHAT? What are you talking about, Biggs? Gonna go find the Deepground troops they drove out and yell 'this is for Midgar' and turn into alpine cheese?" 

The smell of the cocktail lingered in Wedge's nose as he held it to his lips. He let Biggs' surprising statement delay his first sip.

"Revenge?" It was an appealing thought. Those Deepground guys had hurt so many people. Derailed so many lives. They definitely deserved to be punished for it. "What kind of revenge, Biggs?"

Jessie pursed her lips thoughtfully, looking at Biggs with a raise of her eyebrow.

Biggs let them suffer in confusion for a moment more before he grinned "...I'm gonna join up with the military. The weapon shop's toast, and I know those deepground guys ain't done. They've been driven out—but they'll try striking again. No doubt about that." 

"Wow." Wedge bit his lip.

He knocked back his first mouthful of real, hard liquor, trying not to worry about how it would taste.

It was surprisingly sweet—it had an aftertaste of honey, and a bite of some hard alcohol masked by the sweetness. It had a slightly floral taste—herbal maybe, but mostly tasted of honey and a sharp burn of alcohol.

Jessie tilted it back to take a long and practiced sip. "...Join the army huh? What, like Pubsec? Or do you think you've got what it takes to be a SOLDIER?" 

"Huh… this is pretty good." Surprised, Wedge took another long drink, less hesitant this time, as he thought about it. "SOLDIER, those are the guys they're calling heroes, isn't it?"

According to the news it had been a team of first class SOLDIERs who had been the main strike force in putting an end to the deepground invasion. Sephiroth, Genesis, Angeal and Zack.

Biggs pointed his finger at Wedge with a grin. "Thought you'd like it! Hah!" 

He nodded, leaning on his elbow as he took a sip and continued. "Yeah, SOLDIER's the real deal. The heroes who helped push back against Deepground. I'm thinking of seeing if they'll take me— if not, Pubsec ain't a bad option either."

"I subscribe to one of the newsletters. Some girl was going around asking everyone to join up with the 'Genesis Girls' club, and I said why the hell not." Jessie sipped her drink again with a thoughtful hum. "...it'd be crazy to be one of those heroes for real, yeah? The best of the best." 

"A hero." Wedge licked his lips. His head was starting to swim, but he wasn't sure if it was from the drink, or just the heady idea. He took another drink, as if that would help him find out. "Do you think that we could?"

Wedge mostly painted backdrops, and daydreamed about being a character in plays. The kind of character that people called a hero. Brave and strong, the kind of person who meant something to people. Not that he could ever act on a stage– he was too shy.

But maybe… what if he could do the real thing?

Joining the military, he'd have to get tough then, right? What if he could become a SOLDIER and protect people?

Jessie was clearly thinking something similar, her brow knitted under her chestnut hair as she ran her fingers through it with a soft 'hmm', before taking another sip.

"You're a repair guy at a weapon's shop, Biggs," she said slowly. "...and the hell if I'd be letting you go alone. You'd get yourself killed. Which means I'd have to join up at least too. And I'm an actress."

"And?? Who the hell knows what those SOLDIER guys were before they joined up. The way I hear it, they're all from the sticks. Probably farmers, or just kids living in the middle of nowhere. And look at 'em now! Midgar's greatest heroes. It doesn't matter where you come from, it matters what you do with it."

Biggs was passionate—excited, and he had pointed his glass to Jessie animatedly enough that the sprig fell to the table. 

Wedge finished his drink. He felt like he was glowing now, all his skin felt tingly , and there was a warmth in his chest.

"If you guys do it, I'm doing it too," he proclaimed boldly. He was too young to join by almost six months, but that didn't matter. He'd just lie about his age. Kids were always lying about their age to join the military in plays. "Heck, I might do it even if you two chicken out!"

Jesse looked at her mostly empty glass, before she downed it and grabbed Biggs' instead, and downed a long sip of that. 

"The hell I'd chicken out! The …the theater's done for, at least for a while. At least until that whole area gets refurbished. I've got fuck-else to do. If Biggs is dead set on being a hero, I'll be just as much of one!"

Biggs managed a "Hey, Jessie, that's my drink" before she thrust it partially emptied into his hand. Shaking his head with a low chuckle he held his hands up. "...who am I to stop ya. I was kind of hoping you'd join up with me. Even you, Wedge. Don't worry—I won't say a word." 

Wedge poked his finger into Bigg's chest. "You'd better not! You're gonna need me to watch your blindspot, right?"

"Damn right," Biggs grinned at him. "You know me, I can fly off the handle sometime. We need someone with a cool head around."

Jessie snorted softly, her smile starting to crawl across her face as she leaned on the table. 

"Two people to watch your back. Because hell knows you need it. You wanna be heroes? Let's be the greatest damn heroes Midgar ever saw. Better than Genesis, better than Angeal or Sephiroth—"

She raised her glass. 'If we're doing this, let's be the people they make fan clubs about! The people who's names are on everyone's lips! Let's save our world from anyone even like Deepground." 

Wedge raised his empty glass, shoulder to shoulder with Biggs and Jessie. As the warmth glowed within him, he could almost taste it. They'd be heroes together. 

"Cheers! To saving the world, together!"

"To saving the world together!" Biggs and Jessie answered as their glasses—emptied and partially emptied—clacked together in the crowded bar.