Dedicated to anyone who has ever wished to take back a wish.

._._._.

11:11

A Double Digit Final Fantasy VII Fan-Fiction

._._._.

DAY ONE

._._._.

A PROLOUGE (OF SORTS)

Zack seemed to be the sole reason behind all of Cloud's problems. He breathed his air, was taller than him, and was the person that Cloud felt obligated to blurt all his problems to, even though he was relentlessly teased afterwards for them.

Zack Fair knew all there was to know about Cloud Strife, as Cloud Strife knew all there was to know about Zack Fair.

Well, almost everything.

Cloud couldn't smother an embarrassed blush as Zack's fingers tangled with his, practically skipping to keep up with his long strides, but as usual, Zack didn't notice. He was too busy grinning, tugging at Cloud's hand to make him walk even faster to get to…wherever they were going. Somewhere Zack wanted to take him.

It was pretty late, now, and the park was deserted. Any romantic couples who would've usually been on the benches had probably opted to be at home snuggling on the couch, instead of outside freezing their romantic butts off. Cloud briefly, wistfully wished that Zack had opted for the same decision—he liked couches—but Zack never went for something as easy as that.

And, then again, they weren't even a couple to begin with.

Cloud puffed out his cheeks in protest to the thought, but only earned tripping over his feet when he didn't pay attention to where he was going.

"Here we are!" Zack exclaimed happily. Cloud looked up. There was nothing but another long, winding path, and a couple of trees. He huffed unhappily.

"Where are we?" he asked, doing a full-circle turn. It looked the same in every direction.

Zack's forehead creased. "The park, dummy." He put his hands on Cloud's shoulders, not too gently turning him in the direction he wanted him to, and tilting Cloud's head to the side.

Cloud blinked. Where he'd thought there wasn't anything before, there was a cylindrical stone column—worn and missing a few stones. A little roof stood on little stands on the edges.

"A well?"

"Not just a well," Zack corrected, "A wishing well."

"Yeah," Cloud said. "Take me home."

He could feel more than see Zack roll his eyes, and a playful shove at his shoulder brought him forward to the edge of the well. Instinctively, he reached out, clutching at the sides of the well as he stared down into it. It hadn't looked that deep, but…well…he couldn't see anything when he looked in there, except an endless black hole.

Cloud swallowed hard and backed up a little. Something about the well made him feel uneasy.

"Well…it's really late; I mean, it's already, what, ten fifty or something—?"

"Aw, c'mon, Cloud…"

Cloud sighed, zipping up his jacket and doing a little hop-skip. Apparently, the sooner he complied, the sooner they reached warmth. "Okay, Zack, what do I do?"

Zack, seemingly unbothered by the cold, shrugged his shoulders with a grin. "Make a wish, of course," he said. 'Duh' was unspoken, but obviously meant to be represented in the sentence. "I thought it might be something you'd like," he added on as an afterthought, and smiled sweetly.

There was no need to say anything else; that smile completely numbed Cloud's brain. A mumbling Cloud was already digging through his coat pockets, then his jeans, looking for spare change. Traditionally, he remembered that for wishing wells, you were supposed to use pennies. Instead, though, all he found in his pocket was a nickel. His fingers traced the smooth edges, wondering if it counted. Zack's hand found his, prying apart his fingers.

"That'll work," Zack said approvingly. "Now all you have to do is make a wish!"

Cloud looked around something to prompt him, any sort of inspiration, before looking up at Zack.

"Any wish is fine," Zack scoffed, ruffling his hair. "Just think of something you'd really, really like."

What Cloud really, really would like was to watch a movie with Zack on the couch, maybe in a 'very friendly' way instead of in the 'just friends' way. But that was unreasonable. It was probably best to just wish for something vague.

"Do I say it out loud?" Cloud asked, standing on tip-toes with the coin outstretched in one hand.

Zack shrugged. "Only if you want to."

Cloud leaned forward, peering over into the darkness, swallowing down the queasiness. He couldn't help but feel something…strange every time he looked into the well, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what. The nickel seemed strangely stuck to his hand.

"Well, then…" Cloud gnawed his lower lip in thought. "I guess…I wish…that all my wishes would come true."

Before he could stop himself, he turned his curled palm upside down. The coin fell straight downwards—not bouncing against any of the walls, or anything, like it would in any other situation—but straight downwards, as if it'd been pulled straight down by a vacuum tube. The glimmer of silver was quickly swallowed up by the black, and within only a second, it was as if Cloud hadn't even held it at all, except for a nickel-sized sweaty spot in the middle of his palm.

Cloud swallowed hard. For some reason, he suddenly had the anxious feeling that he'd done something extremely wrong, and wished that he hadn't dropped the nickel in there. He didn't even hear the reassuring plop of it reaching bottom—it was like it had been sucked into a void, or maybe gobbled up by some open, waiting mouth at the very end. All of these imaginings were quickly dissolved when Zack threw an arm over his shoulders.

"Man, what kind of a wish was that? That was dumb."

Trying to shrug off the apprehension, Cloud stuck out his tongue, shifting under the arm. "Aren't…you going to make a wish?" he asked, chancing a look up at Zack.

Zack shrugged. "I already did, when I first found it." He craned his head so he could look down at Cloud with a smile. "I didn't really need to, though, when I have everything I need already."

Cloud could feel a little stab of hurt in his chest at that. He smothered it with a cough, looking away. "Wanna get out of the cold, now?"

Zack nodded, and quickly steered away from the well, walking in the opposite direction. He looked down at Cloud, and frowned. "Hey…weren't you wearing a watch?"

Cloud started, his other hand flying down to his wrist. Sure enough, the sports watch was gone. He groaned. "It probably fell in when I was leaning over the well!"

"Serves you right for having such skinny little wrists," Zack decided, and picked up the pace. "Don't worry about it, you can get another one."

A little worry was already niggling at the back of his mind, but as they left the well behind, Cloud gradually let it fade away from thought. After all, it was just a nickel in an old, crumbling well—an old, inconsequential well that would probably be replaced or completely leveled by the following year.

What was there to worry about?

._._._.

The watch was still falling through the black, though the red neon numbers were still clear enough.

11:10.

11:11.

Plop.

The nickel finally hit bottom, moments before the watch joined it.

The water, overgrown with algae and slime, glowed green.

._._._.

CLOUD'S FIRST BIRTHDAY PARTY. STRIFE FAMILY LIVING ROOM. 1:00 PM.

He understood, at least, that it was a celebration regarding him. Cloud didn't mind this, of course. Any and all attention was welcome, especially the picking up kind. It seemed that, the more he moved around and the more he pulled down, the more anxious they got, and the more he got picked up and transported to a new area. Especially when he gnawed at the balloons; the sound they made had shocked him to tears the first time, but now they were just a new diversion. Plus, it made him get whisked away even faster.

It was like teleportation. Cloud giggled as once again he was hefted up, hopefully to go to another location.

Unfortunately, he wasn't carried very far, and was instead plopped in a chair in front of the dining room table. Voicing his disapproval, he tried to slide down and escape under the table, but someone's big hands reached around his middle, keeping him in an uncomfortable position. Cloud loudly declared his displeasure at this, but no one seemed to understand, or pay attention to his squirming.

"Cloud," someone said, and he finally looked up to see his mother, smiling down at him. He stared right back, watching as she put cake in front of him. There was a tube with a flickering flame at the end, which Cloud stared at in amazement, before looking back up at his mother for prompting of what to DO with this new development.

"Blah blah blah blah Cloud!" she said. "Blah blah blah Cloud, blah blah blah!"

Hm. That wasn't very enlightening. Cloud drowned out the adults' lowered garbles and focused on the bright flame.

"Blah blah blah!" his mother cooed at him, and puffed at the flame.

Quickly taking her lead, Cloud blew a raspberry of mostly spit at the candle. The flame sputtered out. Immediately, a round of applause and gibberish rose from the adults around him. Cloud blinked around in stupefied wonder. It was only a fire; it was supposed to go out. He wondered what would've happened if HE hadn't been there to blow it out, and then was quickly comforted at the thought that his mother would have saved them all.

The adults began to babble amongst themselves. Someone gave him a piece of cake—probably the one with baby drool on it—and Cloud, giving up on trying to understand, amused himself with smearing icing all over his mother's best tablecloth.

Idly, he made a wish. If the adults spoke his language, then he would finally be able to tell what they were saying. Maybe they'd actually make more sense that way.

He wished that the adults spoke baby.

Then he accidentally stuck a chubby finger in his mouth, tasted the icing, and occupied himself by stuffing as much cake as he could into his mouth to the cooing gibberish of the adults around him, already forgetting his previous thoughts.

._._._.

Cloud blearily opened one eye, peering out from beneath his pillow. Neon analog letters winked back at him from his clock, cheerily informing him that, once again, the alarm had failed to wake him up.

Cloud rolled back over, smushing the pillow over his head with a sigh. Good thing it was a Saturday.

Outings with Zack always left him drained. If he drank, he mused, this would probably be what a hangover felt like. Zack Withdrawal. Guaranteed to leave you bedridden and exhausted the next day.

Making a face, Cloud stiffly got up from bed, shoving Fredrick out of the way as he did. The teddy fell flat on his nose. Served him right, sneaking out of the "Give Away" Box in the closet—again-—and snuggling up to Cloud in the night. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Cloud still felt unbelievably lonely sleeping without something fuzzy next to him. Perish the mere thought.

Despite that, he picked Fredrick up and carried him along. He would return him to the "Give Away" box again later…right now, he needed the company.

Downstairs he went, one step at a time, skipping the bathroom and going straight through the living room, where he slouched on the couch. No one was here to worry about morning breath for now. Feeling a little perkier, he began bouncing up and down, trying to decide on breakfast. Cornflakes sounded good. That left little else to do, though, and once the decision had been made, Cloud felt the impending gloom of boredom.

What to do, what to do? Cloud tapped absently on his lip, jarring Fredrick up and down on his knee. Zack was working today, which was probably why he had been dragging Cloud out and about on his wishing well gig yesterday. Cloud didn't have school or work until Monday. Everyone else he knew was doing…something else, probably more important. And the house was spotless.

Cloud blew out his cheeks. Time to call Mom.

He looked at the handset, which seemed so very far away from the very squishy couch.

…Or, maybe not.

He wiggled his fingers at the handset, willing it to either come to him, or for him to suddenly go flying over to it.

The phone remained where it was.

With nothing else to do, Cloud repositioned himself so that he was facing the TV, and turned it to the first channel he thought of—preschool cartoons. Then he snuggled Fredrick closer—one last time before he gave him away (which he had been saying for the past five years). It never failed, usually, to relax him and make him feel ready to face the day; but today, for some reason, he still felt uncomfortable.

The wishing well was bothering him. Cloud wasn't one for wishes, usually—he'd stopped making them after his eleventh birthday, so far as he knew. But a wish was just a wish. He hadn't even dropped a penny in there. Heck, he hadn't even heard the nickel hit bottom. For all he knew, it was still falling, straight down, turning over and over…

For some reason, that thought disturbed him even more than the wish.

A shriek cut through the Little Bear theme song, and Cloud jumped a moment before realizing it was the phone. Giggling nervously at his stupidity, Cloud got up and hopped over to the phone, picking it up. Maybe his mom had decided to call first.

"Good morning!" Cloud said cheerily, trapping the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could watch the cartoon at the same time.

"Gooooo blah blah blagh!"

Startled, Cloud nearly dropped the phone. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it, then brought it back.

"Um…pardon me?" he said politely.

"Gurgle bloop gheeeeeee num num num! Cooooooo blagh!Ptah ptah ptah!"

Cloud frowned. The voice was actually rather familiar. For a couple of days in a row, some sort of telephone salesman had been calling and trying to sell him insurance or something—some middle aged heavy smoker, to be exact, who talked so fast Cloud often politely excused himself for fear of being tricked. This voice, babbling gibberish, sounded sort of like that same dude. A middle-aged heavy smoker gurgling like a baby. This was way, way too weird this early in the morning. But this dude was holding a whole one-sided conversation in gurgles.

"Zack?" Cloud asked hopefully, "Is that you?" Hopefully, this was all just a prank call or something.

"Aughhhhhhhhhh—!"

A very intricate prank call, minus the giggles and snorts and the "Hey, just playing with you" at the end. Plus, did Zack even know what Heavy Smoker Salesman sounded like? Cloud was pretty sure he'd never been over when the guy called.

He held the phone away from his ear once again, now feeling a little alarmed as on the other end the guy chortled disturbingly. What if…well, what if he wasn't trying to talk in baby talk? What if…he was being strangled or something?

Cloud swallowed hard, putting a hand on his own throat. Poor Heavy Smoker Salesman probably only had his number on hand to call for help!

"Oh my God," Cloud breathed in horror, and then scrabbled to uncover the phone. He called into it, "Hello. Hello! A-are you okay? Do you want me to call the police?"

Silence on the other line. Cloud waited anxiously, now gnawing his finger when he split his lip.

The man on the other line burst out in a series of high-pitched, panicked sounds. Cloud winced at the static, thoroughly confused, but he could manage to make out the word "no" repeated several times.

No need for police, or no to whoever's hurting him? Cloud wondered worriedly. "Do…you…need…the police?" he enunciated, hoping the man would make things clearer.

If possible, the babblings grew even higher and more panicked. Cloud could barely make out the words "no pice!" before there was the abrupt clattering of a phone. The other guy had hung up.

Cloud pulled the phone away, looking at it and trying to make sense of what had just happened. Was the guy alright, or not? Sure, he was annoying—he often called when Cloud was going into the shower, in the shower, or just out. Once, Cloud had fallen down the stairs, soaking wet with a towel around his waist, just trying to answer the phone. (That time, that guy was trying to sell him hairdryers. Cloud had politely declined, sounding as authorative as he could in a towel.)

Still, though…maybe he had a family! Well, a family of greasy, plaid-suited, slick salesmen—but a family, nonetheless!

At the same time, "no pice" could mean "no police".

Cloud shook his head at his own stupidity. The guy had probably gotten his tongue stung by a bee or something, and that was why he was slurring his words. Or his tie was too tight!

He scowled at a sudden thought. OR, he had thought Cloud was gullible enough to say 'yes' why he couldn't understand what he was signing up for! The sheer nerve! Cloud was almost sure of it now. Heavy Smoker was so panicked at the mention of police because it would get his greasy behind in trouble!

In a fit of righteous rage, Cloud slammed the phone down into its cradle and nodded at it satisfactory, as if he'd just slammed it down on the guy's head. That would show him.

Quickly disregarding the situation, Cloud went back over to the couch and propped Fredrick up so he could properly see the TV and craned his neck to see what was on too. Happy upon discovering Wonder Pets was up next, he cranked the sound as he skipped to the kitchen. His mood didn't even decline upon discovering that he didn't have any cornflakes. Raisin Bran it was, then!

._._._.

Having an unlimited channel of preschool cartoons can make you lose track of time. By the time Cloud suddenly decided to check the clock, he came to the rude awakening that it was already six o'clock. Waking up at noon apparently didn't give you much time to live in.

The pharmacy was twenty-four hour, sure, but if Cloud didn't go and pick up his medication now, he would never leave. Plus, if he went out later, that wouldn't work either. It was dangerous out there. The thought was enough to propel Cloud off the couch, up the stairs, and into a decent pair of pants. Loathe to surrender his pajama shirt, Cloud just pulled his clothes on over them. It wasn't like anyone would notice, anyway.

The pharmacy was a brisk fifteen minute walk from Cloud's house. He waved at everyone he didn't know and hid from everyone he did know the entire way there. It made things more interesting.

Once in the store, Cloud refrained from browsing the candy section and made a beeline to the back, where he bounced as he waited for service.

An elderly lady emerged from the back. She had a very sweet face, and Cloud mused, as probably many before him had as well, that she reminded him of his gramma—missing the shock of gray-blonde hair and the fond scowl, of course, but still very close.

"Hi!" Cloud handed over the paper, hoping that it would take a minimum amount of talking to get what he needed. "I'm here to pick up my medication?"

The lady nodded, ducking down behind the counter. Cloud amused himself by making faces into the medicine bottles on the counter. He'd just discovered that his tongue could actually stick out pretty far when someone cleared their throat. With an embarrassed grin, he faced the pharmacist again.

She was holding two bottles, one in each hand, and looking at him expectantly. Her mouth opened, and Cloud waited for the oncoming question: which one was the one he needed?

Except it didn't come out that way.

"Blegh blah blah ga goo?" the lady asked, smiling politely at the end.

Cloud stared. The lady made an impatient hand gesture, and he hurriedly opened his mouth. "U-Um…could you repeat that?"

"Blegh…blah…blah…ga…goo?" the lady asked again, drumming her fingers on the counter.

Nervously, Cloud brought his thumb up to his mouth, biting at it. He didn't want to hurt pharmacy lady's feelings—after all, they already didn't smile enough as it was—but he really couldn't understand what she was trying to say.

"Umm…" Cloud began, "I'm so sorry ma'am, but I can't understand what you're saying. Do you have a pad, or…or something?"

The lady's smile was kind of strained, but she reached underneath the desk, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. She slammed them down, making Cloud jump, and scribbled something out while Cloud amused himself by hopping from foot to foot.

"Blah," she stated, sliding the pad back over to Cloud. Cloud smiled apologetically at her, picking up the pad and glancing at it.

Then squinting.

He glanced up, to where the before kindly elderly gramma now looked rather irritable, and then back down at the paper, his stomach sinking uncomfortably.

On the paper was nothing but scribbling.

It wasn't even the normal doctor or pharmacist crazy 'I can't read this' scrawl—it was like, 'I just gave the pen and to my baby brother' all across the page. Cloud wondered for a moment if there was something wrong with his eyes or something, because it seemed to waver; but no, it was definitely there.

Cloud looked up with a cringe.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am…but I can't read your handwriting."

And then the sweet elderly lady just started screaming. She just leaned over the counter, was suddenly up in Cloud's face, and was screeching at the top of her lungs. In response, Cloud shrieked, grabbing something up from the counter to shield himself as he scrambled backwards. The lady just kept screaming at him in complete gibberish, and Cloud kept shrieking, and all the punk kids who hung out after school to flirt with the girl behind the counter wandered curiously over to see what the commotion was about.

By the time said girl behind the counter finally rushed to the back, Cloud was very near tears and shaking in his shoes.

"Hey," the girl said, pulling the lady off the counter. She looked him up and down, and thankfully didn't find anything concerning, because her face softened. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't do anything," Cloud whispered. "I just can't understand anything she's been saying and I couldn't understand what she wrote down and I need to go home…"

"It's okay," the girl soothed. She pried the bottles out of the venomously glaring pharmacist's hand. This time, Cloud shakily took the right one, and signed for it as quickly as he could. Meanwhile, the girl picked up the paper, frowning.

"Hey, kid," she said, looking up over it. "We have free eye checkups here every two weeks. Maybe you should apply."

Cloud flushed unhappily, mumbling something in reply before high-tailing it out of there. A couple of times he thought that the punk kids were curiously following him, but by the time he got home, he was all alone.

Miserable, too.

Now he just felt awful, and he hadn't even done anything. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't understand two people today. It wasn't his fault that they both were speaking some strange language he couldn't understand.

He took a few deep breaths, settling down on the couch. Fredrick conveniently found his way into Cloud's lap, and Cloud hunched over him for a moment, struggling to calm down and not just cry.

Once he'd gotten himself sufficiently under control, he breathed out. He would write an apology note to the lady tomorrow. After that, he would find another pharmacy. After all, there were a lot of pharmacies in town; he would just find one without any grumpy grammas and head there.

Why the baby talk? Stuff like that didn't just happen… as far as Cloud knew, anyway. It was like someone was trying to play this trick on him. If it was a trick, he decided, it sure was a horrible one. Suddenly paranoid, he swiveled his head around, looking for something—maybe the lens of a camera, or the cut off grin of some weird camera dude. The room looked like he'd left it, and he dropped his head back down again.

Maybe he should call someone.

Or maybe he just needed to go to bed. That seemed like the best thing to do right now, and it would probably calm himself down. With a hiccup, Cloud headed upstairs. Hopefully, tomorrow would be a lot better.

If only he knew.