Disclamier: I do not own any of the characters in this story, they are under the property of Square Enix

AU: This is a One Shot ZackCloud, I just did this on a whim one bored afternoon. Enjoy

Rain falling down

Softly hits this window

The window dances with the splatters of the soft rain

Pitter patter do they softly fall

But something doesn't seem right…

…Why does the rain fall inside this home?

This sanctuary meant to hold out the rain…why does it now fall inside?

Softly

It falls against the window panes of soft frost

This soft rain leaves its marks against a soft pallet

Soft eyes reveal all…

A heart upon a sleeve worn with endowment

Sentimentally filled with heartbreak and sorrow…

What could've brought soft eyes of cerulean to weep?

Tragedies befall people everyday, but something tragic

Must have befallen this man to make these soft eyes weep…

"I brought this…I brought this upon you, some life this turned out to be," softly the wind blew at the window pane as the rain began to rush harder against the window; the soft eyes of the owner of these words closed, "…Zack…what did you ever see in me that made me this way…a fool still waiting for you to come home, what was it you saw?"

Rain, both sentimental, and imagery in life's portrayal of the world's play around its players, falling to bring new life to the ground to complete the cycle of life in the world as it moves on. On the wings of this stage, there waits another act waiting to fulfill its role in the ongoing play of life, rain, it brings on an imagery of human emotion; it softly falls from the soft pools of the eyes that hold all emotion. Tracks are made from the soft rain falling down the pallet of the player's face, tracks that can tell almost everything about the player. Tears, they fall gently like the soft pitter patter of rain against the soft glass of this sanctuary, sanctuary that is the stage of all acts of harsh reality of all that has befallen this World's Player.

"…Cloud…we're friends…I would do anything for you. I would say what you want to hear, do what you want me to do, I would give anything…to make sure…that this face, never cries ever again. This face is too soft and supple to be hurt by tears, so, if you ever find yourself without me…remember this for me, Smile. Smile…and with that, you shall know…I am always here."

Two years, two years too long since he was taken out of life into another life completely; even after all these years, he couldn't face up to what had happened, something nagged at his mind that he was the cause of all that had befallen them.

"Cloud, hey, you gonna hide up there forever, or are you going to make the deliveries waiting down here for you?" the play was starting, the first words of the script of a new scene about to begin as a woman with jet black hair, that reached to the middle of her shoulder blades, "Come on, Cloud, I'm not waiting around for you much longer to do this, I will resort to calling Cid, and I know Cid doesn't want to be bother with your work."

Enter the player, the antagonist who fights against furthering the story, the stand in who could care less for further bringing the story along; his body shifts as do the eyes, the eyes that had been filled with the sting of remorseful remembrance.

"…It was like this on that day too…" the looming figure stood up, turned on his heels and headed for the stairway that lead into the inner room of this sanctuary.

"CLOUD, I'M COUNTING TO TEN, AND THEN I'M CALLING CID! 1…2…3….4….5…6…" the woman's patience was wearing thin, her hand was reaching for the phone and began to dial a few numbers, "7….8…9…"

The sound of the dial tone beeping in her ear was heard as her eyes brushed up to meet the soft cerulean blue's of the man she had been calling for, "…I'm here, what do you want?"

"Took you long enough," the phone found itself back on the base as the young woman bent behind the counter to pull out a list of customer's waiting for their packages, "Here."

Within a few moments, the list in hand, packages set in the side bag of the motorcycle; he was soon on his way to deliver the packages. There was something about this journey to deliver packages that was different then other times he had taken the path that was familiar to him. It was a nagging feeling, why did it feel that someone was pulling on him? Warmth seemed to fill around his waist, he could almost feel hands forming against his body, moving down his waistline towards his inner thighs; his mind was swimming.

"…I can't do this…I can't," angrily the bike was dismounted as he stormed around the area where it was parked, eying every part of it, looking for any sign that there had been someone there with him on the bike, "Damn it…what was that feeling just now?"

The bike, was intact, no signs or fleeting impressions that there had been a body or individual on the bike with him, the seat was warm from where Cloud had been sitting, no one, not even a leaf, had been on that bike with him. Memories are painful, regretful, joyful they are a mix of various emotions and only when we come to grips with these emotions, and memories, can we truly move on. Loss begets grief, grief begets sadness, and sadness begets loneliness and utter spiraling loss into a void that we feel we can never fill.

"You're really jumpy, Cloud," a voice seemed to call out from nowhere in particular as a figure appeared from out of the faint mist that had started to roll in around where Cloud had stopped the motorcycle, "Its not that hard to find you, just say one thing, or even come up behind you, and you jump like a scared poodle."

Cloud's mind raced, he couldn't comprehend this, was he losing his mind or was someone playing with his mind still while hiding amongst the mist; his cerulean eyes widened as he started to see the figure.

"…Z…ac…k, is that you, is it really you?" Cloud attempted to keep his self together, this couldn't be real, it just couldn't be, Zack was dead, he had been there when he watched the man die before his very eyes, "…Whoever you are, stop toying with me!"

Like a veiled curtain, that reveals the next player, in the long running tale of a play with several acts to this tale, the mist lifted up to reveal the jet black spiked mane of the man, "…But Cloud…I thought you liked toying around…you always responded best to toying around," the sight that came upon the cerulean eyes almost made those eyes want to cry, and the man behind them fall to his knees out of sheer emotional distress.

"Z…ac…k?" Cloud could barely speak as the words faintly left his lips as he fell to his knees, his sword fell to the side as his hands shook with utter shock.

"Is that all I get…after all these years…?" Zack knelt down in front of Cloud's face as he brushed away the stray hair that had fallen in his face, that soft, serene face that should never see tears or any emotion of this life, "…I'll prove that I'm here."

What was this warmth hovering over Cloud's face, hot air was wafting over his lips; his body was shuttering and as he felt Zack's hand dance up through his hairline, his lips brushing over his. His face was hot with embarrassment and utter long desire; it had been ages since he had had this feeling wash over him. The shuttering in his hands wished to wash up over the man's hair and face, pull him in closer, and savor all of this moment.

"…You're really here…you're actually here…Zack, how could this be true that you're here? I thought you were dead…" Cloud's voice was shakily soft, his eyes were softly hazed over as he looked over Zack, "…I saw you die…you gave me your sword, and then…"

Silence was upon him again as he felt soft tears trekking down his face; he couldn't hold back this desire as he cupped Zack's face in his own hands. His hands could feel the strong jaw line, the same that had numerous times, over and over, seen caressing kiss, nips, and nibbles that had lead into the faint marking hickeys that his mind's eye could see were still on his neck. It was real, he was really here, this warmth, it was real, but yet…

"Cloud…I can't stay long…I've only come to say one thing…" Zack pulled away as he held Cloud's face in his own hands; he didn't want to break this man's heart again, he had done it enough, "…Wake up…This is a dream…and for me…please, try to be happy."

"But Zack…I don't want to wake up, I don't want this to be over as soon as you leave me…please, don't leave me like this."

Zack was having a hard enough time hiding his deep remorse for ever leaving the man in a state he knew he could never fall out of and return to a moment, even a lifetime, that didn't have him in it, "…I've never left you, and won't leave you…I may be gone, but, everything we had…will never be gone."

The mist, it fades in and it rolls out, like fleeting stage lights, the stage lights were coming down on this final scene. Mist was rolling back in, a sign that Zack's time here, was over.

"Zack…please…" Cloud's eyes pleaded, his body ached for him to stay as his fingers curled around the man's fading body, "…Don't leave me like this…I can't bare to see you leave me again."

"Cloud…" Zack's voice was fainted and soft, his hand was slipping through Cloud's face as he brushed away the coming tears from his face, "…I've never left you, I'm still with you, so…I guess this is…good bye…Cloud."

The curtain dropped slowly upon this ill fated scene, a broken heart was left upon the stage, but it didn't feel like the end; the main player may have been left to his demise upon this stage, but even in the dark of the darkened stage of this show's end, he found the means to stand again.

"…Yeah, I guess, it is," Cloud stood up again, his eyes were closed in soft surrender as he brushed at his own lips, that heat of Zack's was still there upon his lips, "…Goodbye…Zack."

"Here's your package, si---" Fate, it's a strange thing, as is life, it hits us with roadblocks, narrow roads, twists and turns, and the unexpected epic twists that make the play all the more worth watching still to the very end.

"Is there something wrong?" the man standing at the doorway was a new player in this stage of life, his hair resembled Zack's; he maintained the same build as the man, but his grey softened eyes were a soft emerald hue, "Sir?"

Cloud would've kept standing there, mouth agape, in utter shock, his mind nearly screaming to ask this man's name and if he had ever been a part of SOLDIER, but, sensibility took him over, "…Nothing's wrong, good day, sir."

"You sure, you look like you had seen a ghost," the man stood watching Cloud mount his bike, and get ready to head off as he revved up the old bike, "Well, good luck on the rest of your deliveries."

"Maybe I did see a ghost…I've been known to attract those kind of people," Cloud's face broke into a soft smile as he rode on,"…Right…Zack?"

Curtains, they are the mask of the stage, and its always worn after each fall of each act; the stage is good at masking the truth, making us believe things we never would see in other times. It portrays life's mysteries to its greatest extents, shrouding all of lives past events in a neat little one short act. All the players of this play of a life almost forgotten, each has played their parts, and now, we must, close the masking curtain upon this stage as this mist begins to roll into the small town of Midgar. Who knows, even in the deepest parts of this mist, there could still be a few ghosts lurking, to help those that have lost faith of the path ahead of them, and of those around them.

"…I want you to be…proof…of my existence…"

"…I'll make sure of that, Zack, and I'll always remember that," Cloud's voice wavered on the wind as it was masked by the sounds of the motorbike as he tore through the Forgotten City woodlands, "…You can count on that."

Well, what did you guys think? ZackCloud enough for you guys? It may not seem like anything major, and maybe a little angst like, but, hey, its my first time attempting this pair.