Disclaimer: Don't own Final Fantasy, Crisis Core, Zack, etc…But I DO own Dale.

A/N: I wrote this story before Crisis Core came out and I got a little ways in before the game actually DID come to the US. Since then, I've been putting this story on hiatus until I could get a good concept of the game, so I've been going back and redoing all of these chapters.

This is a turnabout fic that begins right before the end of Final Fantasy VII and continues post FF VII. Things in here get a little…strange…and I know the concepts used have been used in the past already but, hey, it's Final Fantasy. What HASN'T already been used?

So please give this story a chance and RnR if you like.

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Stand By Me

Chapter One

The Man On The Daytona

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For some strange reason, he wasn't surprised when he saw the barrel of the Mako Cannon rise to the sky, nor was he surprised to see the massive steel run towards the horizon, as though it had been built to an indefinite reach. He had a job to do and whatever happened outside the walls of Midgar, it didn't concern him.

At least, not yet.

The gigantic WEAPON had been called into standby, or so he heard, and was apparently waiting for a much larger adversary outside the wall. While everyone lay in wait, a tumbleweed of silence rolling by each sector, he continued on with his normal routine. Whatever happened happened. It wouldn't be as though it had been the first time he avoided death.

"Here you are," he replied, handing a woven basket to an elderly lady, who clutched it to her chest like it was the last thing worth caring about in the world.

"Bless you, sir," she replied in an almost nasally voice. She handed him a coin meant to be a tip and slowly closed the door in front of him.

Tucking it into his pocket, he turned back to his Daytona, a real rarity in these parts, and put his dark shades over his eyes.

It didn't get much better than this, he figured. And watching the faces of the people he made deliveries to light up with excitement was more than enough to count as a tip. If Shinra was stupid enough now to pick fights with those bigger than them, it was their own fault.

He tried not to think about it anymore, being years ago and all, but sometimes he asked himself what he was doing here, and then remembered.

I almost died outside this place. I awoke, cold and tired—it was raining. I remember blood—my blood—all over the place. It took some effort, but I managed to stand up. Then I found myself walking, arms hugging myself until I couldn't remember where I was walking to anymore. Slowly, I couldn't remember anything anymore, like how I got there, where I was going, or my own name. The next thing I knew, I was in Costa Del Sol, sitting on the beach in a pair of swimming trunks, and it all came back. Why did it come back?

Then he came back here…Why? There was nothing for him here.

When he did eventually come back, he immediately went searching for her. Thousands of thoughts filled his mind—what was he going to say to her? Would she even remember him? Did she have a new boyfriend? Did she still love him?Among all those things, he never imagined that when he arrived, her house would be boarded up—vandalized even—and that she would be dead. He had found that out the hard way.

Since that day, he had taken it upon himself to finish what he knew she always wanted. She had shown him the flowers in the church and he tended to those. He had been to her house and so scrubbed away the graffiti and worked around the garden. He got a job in Sector 6 (that was the closest he could get to being near all those things, and, with his Daytona, it was no problem.

He wasn't sure why he had done it, since she was gone now and he hated Shinra with an absolute passion, but he remembered that he was going to propose to her on the day he got back. With a desire unfulfilled, he deemed it reasonable to feel guilty and want to repay the woman he loved in such a respectful manner—especially since he was not around to save her in the end.

He worked at the grill house as both head chef and delivery boy. When he had to go on errands to make the deliveries, he had his chef-in-training handle the post orders. His boss, overall, was very generous and was one of the only people who knew that he had come here under dire circumstances.

He had planned to live out the rest of his life this way, in a quiet, solitude fashion that kept him happy. Though it was hard living under Shinra's thumb, he tried to make the best of it, even keeping a low profile in the presence of others. Among this, he had given himself a false last name, but became a little more relaxed when two years went by and nothing happened.

He arrived back at the grill house a little before three, the engine on his Daytona still running. Walking through the door, which was in desperate need of a paint job, he first noted that the entire joint was empty—unusual for a Tuesday afternoon.

"They're all worked up about that Sister Ray in the sky." The Boss must've known what he was thinking. He almost always knew what he was thinking. "So the rest of the day will probably be like this. Take the day off, would you, Zack?"

"You don't have to tell me twice," Zack laughed, setting his red bag down on the counter. He ran a hand through his black, porcupine styled hair. "I need the time off, anyway."

"To do what?" the Boss grinned. "To spend time in that little garden of yours in Sector 5?"

"Geez," Zack sighed and shook his head. "You caught me." Then he laughed again, realizing how good it felt to be able to be free like this.

"Zack, I'll never know what it is with you and that place, but one thing's for sure," he was washing out a shot glass with a slightly dirty rag, "you're in love with that place, and I ain't gonna be the one to stand between you and it."

"No," Zack denied, "I'm in love with the gardener who used to take care of those flowers. But…that's all history now."

"Ah," the Boss said, as though he understood, "you're talking about that Aeris kid, right? Downright beauty she was. Her mother picked up and left right after finding out what became of her."

There was a flash of pain in Zack's eyes, but he disguised it with a well-built smile.

"I wish I could do the same, but…" the youth twirled the keys to his Daytona around his finger, "I have a promise to keep." Waving to his boss, he added, "Catch ya later, Dale."

"That's Boss to you!" But it was all in good humor. Zack knew that.

He walked back outside, his Daytona still revving its motor, and straddled the seat as he lowered the shades from his head. The Boss was right. He was going to her place to shape up the flowers a bit. Two days before, he had nearly indulged himself in a fistfight with two bratty punks who he had caught tromping all over the flowerbeds.

He was lucky to have gotten there in time before any real serious damage had been done, and he had leapt off his bike quicker than he ever had, hands balled into tight fists. The two boys, who were not much younger than him, he guessed, were quick to start the fight, but Zack had more manpower and skill than the two combined, swinging punches and throwing kicks above their heads. He didn't want to hurt them, which came as a surprise. The fact that they had dared to trespass over his land was unthinkable.

It was a fortuitous turn of events, at least he had thought so, when the two had decided to flee. However, he had to fix the damage they had done. Zack patted the packets of seeds in his back pocket. He pushed up the kickstand, ready to take off through town. Immediately after he had looked up, he was forced to stop and muttered an almost slurred curse word.

Before him was a poorly painted red carriage, towed along by a less than graceful looking Chocobo, its feathers dulled and somewhat brown. He watched as it trotted past him, the wheels on the carriage squeaking as they rolled by.

Zack chewed on his lower lip, staring after the retreating carriage. Sure, he had heard about Don Corneo quite some time ago, but something happened and the fat puke had died, leaving his mansion abandoned. It was no surprise to anyone…

…until Zack heard his name again just days before.

He was known as the man who "married death" and escaped it to tell the tale. Zack was almost positive that he had been the only one with that title until then. But if it was true…

Well, it wasn't his problem, but it was an interesting thing to know. If he could avoid death from Shinra Soldiers, who was there to say that even the great Don Corneo could still live after falling from a Wutai cliff hundreds of feet high. Or more, even. Still, Zack wasn't a player. Never believed in it. He had heard about the way the Don did things and it always sickened him. But…if girls were offering themselves up to him, what right did he have to stand in their way? Not to mention, wouldn't that go against my law of a low profile? He chewed bitterly on the prospect of right and wrong.

What's the problem with me? Why am I contemplating this, now? It's just the Don! What difference does it make whether he's alive or dead? What difference does it make to me what he does in his spare time?

Then he frowned, folding his arms over his chest, and completely forgot about his running motor.

The truth was that he did care. A lot. The only reason why was because of a lesson someone had taught him some time before. Or is it because I'm slightly curious as to know what a man like the Don is doing back in a place like this? Can I afford to break my code for this one little peek?

He burst out laughing for no reason in particular. "Of course I can!" A man who avoids death deserves respect. But I doubt that his survival was the same as mine. Nevertheless, let's see if I can't make his acquaintance.

Rearing back onto his Daytona, Zack sped off after the carriage, kicking up a plume of dust after his whirling tires. He wheeled the vehicle around the buildings, the humming of the motor causing everyone to look at him. He wanted to throw his head back and cackle. This has to be one of the most idiotic things I've done in a while. Why am I doing this again? But, then again, he always knew that he was a nosy suck. This was nothing new.

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Please RnR if you liked. Flames will be used to roast marshmallows. If people like it, I'll keep posting. If not, then I will go and throw myself a pity party.

ML