Okay, so I know I should be working on What Once Was...but this just came out of nowhere. I apologize in advance for the confusingness of this drabble...hah

Disc; I own nothing. If I did, Zack wouldn't have died but since he did, well, I don't own FFVII or Crisis Core then now do I?

He was always there for him. And yet, even through everything, he couldn't even say thanks. He couldn't say thank you to the man who did so much for him. He was supposed to be a hero. Heroes weren't supposed to die, right? If that was true, then why…why did he have to die?

It just wasn't fair.

He was everything that he wasn't, his exact opposite. He had sleek, black hair, an upbeat, caring attitude, and was as strong as anyone could be, while he…he was not. He was blonde, weak, and had the shyest personality in the world. Not the qualities of a Soldier. But he was there for him, even then.

He was the one who first talked to him, he was the one who helped him on numerous missions. He was the one who encouraged him to do better. He was the one who stood by his side. He was the one who died, instead of him.

Even now, he couldn't forgive himself for letting that happen. He was supposed to be the one who died! Why couldn't he see that–why did he have to go so far as to die, protecting someone as weak as him? He actually had someone waiting for him within that walled city. Who did he have? No one. Why did he have to protect him?

He never understood why. He still doesn't.

And so here he stood, three years later, upon the exact spot where he was supposed to die. In those three years, so many things had happened, so many things that changed him, molded him, shaped him to what he is now.

He glanced down at the still rocky ground, where pools of blood used to stain and seep. He wasn't supposed to be here, he believed that with everything he had. He was supposed to be the one here, on this forsaken cliff, he should be the one living, not him.

He was always there, even when he had given up hope. He was there with him, protecting him, when he couldn't even move his hand. He was there for him, though everything. And he was the one who died.

"Zack…" he murmured, allowing his still too spiky locks to cover his eyes. "You weren't…why did…" Even after all this time, he still couldn't ask him what he wanted to ask.

Heroes were the ones people looked up to, the ones who were invincible, strong, kind, and the ones that would always live on for eternity. That was what heroes were, right? He was everything that a hero was, so then why did he have to die? Die in such a way that no one could remember him at all? Why did he have to die when there was someone so dear to him waiting for him, waiting with open arms?

The blonde bit his lip, refusing to acknowledge the burning sensation behind his cerulean, mako-induced, orbs as tears. Tears that he didn't want to show, not in this place. But then again, why would he be crying now? He had come here plenty of times before, each without a shedding a single tear, so then why was it so different this time? He took a deep breath and took hold of the lonesome sword that marked the ground.

'So…why did you come?'

He closed his eyes, recalling the voice of the angel he once knew. The angel he failed to protect. The angel that was, once, waiting for him. She had forgiven him, that's what she told him, she forgave him. Even when she never blamed him for her death.

Now…why was he here?

"I…" The blonde smiled a small, mirthless smile, answering the memory with exactly the same thing he answered before, only this time, directed to someone else. "I think…I want to be forgiven."

He was the one who was always, always there for him. He was the one who pushed him on, helped him, guided him like a true a friend, a brother. He was the one who did everything he could to keep him alive, even if it meant risking his own life.

He had so much going for him, he had everything going uphill. And all that ended, just because he was protecting him. Even at Death's door, he was looking out for him, telling him to take his hopes and dreams, live his life for the both of them. Live so that he was the proof he existed. And he left with a smile, unable to hear the anguished scream that erupted from the one he left behind. He left without finally saying goodbye to the one he loved so much. He left without doing many of the things he wanted to accomplished, but he left with a smile, content with what he had done.

He had saved his friend, and that was enough for him.

But he still couldn't understand. He could've just very well left him alone, left him to die, left and gone to his Angel's comforting embrace, and yet he stayed, and paid the price.

The blonde closed his eyes, choosing to rest his head upon Fenrir, memories of the past coming to him then: memories of his deceased friend, memories of their times together, during missions or breaks, and even the foggy memories of the seven years in the laboratory, and the mission Zack took upon himself, taking him out of the lab and heading toward Midgar. Even then, in his comatose state, he was there.

He was always there.

'By who?'

He could see him now, that ever confident grin plastered upon his face. "You're thinking a bit too much there, Spiky," he commented, his mako orbs glinting in the small light. "Get off that bike, it's crushing the flowers."

The latter blinked and looked around; flowers that used to adorn the ground of the church grew around him, all reaching varying lengths. He swung his leg over, and it seemed like his motorcycle disappeared. He looked around once more, looking at anything except his face.

"Gee, thanks, you come all the way over here and you can't even say a proper hello to me. I'm hurt, Cloud, I really am." He could practically feel the smirk that played on the older–would he still be considered older?–man's lips, and, albeit hesitantly, looked at him. "Well?" The dark-haired man crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly, his dark spiky bangs crossing his face. "You wanted to tell me something, didn't you? Might wanna hurry, dunno how long I'm actually allowed to stay here, you know."

"I…" He bowed his head, not looking at his supposedly deceased friend; refusing to meet his eyes.

"I'm sor–"

"Don't say it."

Blue-mako orbs snapped up then, surprise etching his face. He watched as yet another grin erupted on his friend's face, exactly the same as he remembered.

"Don't say sorry when there's nothing to be sorry for, Spiky. There's no reason to want my forgiveness…you never needed it."

And so he felt like a kid again. In a way, he knew he never needed it, but still wanted to hear it, to make sure that his dear friend didn't hate him.

"I never blamed you for my death." Exactly the same thing she had said. "So stop blaming yourself, alright? It hurts whenever I see you beating yourself up for it." And before he knew it, he felt his blonde locks being ruffled to and fro, just as they had been years ago.

Cloud looked up, finally meeting his friend's gaze. "If you still feel bad," he said, "name a kid after me." He smirked and placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Tifa's waiting." And with a wave, he disappeared, and the younger male was back atop that cliff that meant so much. He stood there for a moment and, for a split second, thought he was losing it, but smiled nonetheless and turned to Fenrir.

"Thank you…for everything…Zack." He drove off, toward Midgar, his home, toward his friends and loved ones, his family.

Standing atop the cliff, his shining blue eyes watching his dear friend ride off, the dark-haired Soldier smiled. "You'll be just fine, Spiky," Zack murmured. "Cloud…you'll be just fine."

And even in death, he's always there, watching over him.

So...did that suck? x.x Hopefully it wasn't that confusing...