Zack stared at the sky as it began to rain, feeling oddly empty. His world was one of blinding agony but his hand remained wrapped around the hilt of his sword, Angeal's sword. His hand held onto his honor and dreams. His chest was so riddled with bullets every struggling breath gurgled with his life's blood. He tasted his own blood on his tongue and his chest rattled with each breath, but something about the rain soothed him. I don't think… I'm going to be… lucky this time. He blinked in the rain, I'm so sorry. He didn't know who he was apologizing to or what he was apologizing for, but he needed to apologize for something, to someone. For some reason the rain made him think of Aerith.
Zack stared down the rows and rows of countless troopers as helicopters strafed overhead, each body and piece of machinery making up a piece of the impenetrable wall between him and freedom as they raised and cocked their guns.
Splashes. Something being dragged across the ground. Cloud. Cloud's face appeared above him, expression still mostly vacant, but there was something behind it now. There was an animation that he had lacked before. "Z… Zack?" Cloud mumbled, mako bright eyes widening.
So this is it, huh?
Zack grit his teeth, gasped, and levered his head so that he could look Cloud in the eyes. "For the… both of us." He had to tell him. He had to.
"Boy oh boy," he shook his head, undecided if he was feeling facetious, or just plain resigned, "The price of freedom is steep."
"Both… of us?" Cloud rasped. Zack couldn't tell if he was just being parroted or it Cloud truly understood him. Zack could almost see fragmented thoughts chase each other through Cloud's eyes as the blond tried to follow him.
He took a deep breath and pulled the Buster Sword from where it was attached to his harness and held it in front of him, the tip of the blade pointing straight toward the heavens, bowing his head.
"That's right…" Zack nodded as best he was able, "You're gonna…" Zack gasped for air as his voice died away. "You're gonna…" His arm reached out and jerkily cupped the back of Cloud's wet hair and pulled him down against his chest, blowing air out of his lungs in a burst of pain, but fought through it with a forceful, breathy, "Live." He took short breath, "You'll be…" Another breath and another, "My living legacy." He let his arm slide down and land in the mud and blood and water with a splash. Slowly, Cloud's head rose, like a marionette on strings, blood soaking his chocobo blond hair and staining his cheek. It was ghastly and beautiful at the same time. It was his blood in Cloud's hair and it was his blood on Cloud's cheek.
"Embrace your dreams," he murmured quietly to himself, fortifying his mind and body with the words that had become his mantra in the face of despair, "And, whatever happens… protect your honor…"
Zack couldn't read Cloud. Not really. This whole time… All the time he talked, imagining what Cloud would say if he was aware. It was all just wishful thinking. His overactive imagination. He gathered himself and turned his head slightly, just enough so that he could see his hand holding the Buster Sword. He propped it up, tip dragging on the ground as he pulled it between him and Cloud. "My honor… my dreams…" He pushed it closer, offering all of it to his baby faced companion who still looked all of sixteen instead of twenty-one. "They're yours now." Cloud's hands wrapped around the hilt and Zack shoved at him, weakly, strength nearly gone. Go, he meant, leave. It felt like kicking a puppy to force it to leave. He let his hand fall, no longer able to hold it aloft. Cloud stared at him and Zack focused on breathing through the pain.
He brought the massive weapon into ready position, "As SOLDIER!"
"I'm your… living legacy." Zack's eyes closed, the bullets that had ripped through him finally doing their job. He understands. It was over. The corners of his mouth twitched upward in a tiny smile. Soon, he wouldn't have to worry about the pain and Cloud had understood him. He had said "I" instead of parroting "you." He could rest now. Embrace your dreams. If you want to be a hero, you need to have dreams.
He charged, whipping the blade into position for a downward slash with a roar of, "Come and get it!"
'Night, Kid… Everything, pain, fear, despair… It all began fading away. Everything faded away… Everything but Aerith.
Those wings… I want them too.
Eyes open he stared up at the blue, blue sky, white wings flashing in the light of the sun he raised his hand. Angeal's strong hand clasped Zack's and the warrior looked as though degradation had never taken hold. He pulled Zack with him up into the liberating freedom of the sky.
Hey, would you say I became a hero?