A/N First Crisis core fic :) hope you enjoy it ^^
Angeal didn't hear the shot.
What he heard was Zack's little gasp and the thud as he hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. By the time Angeal turned to him, blood laced with mako was pulsing out of Zack's stomach. Zack's hands closed over the wound like he was trying to keep his guts in. Maybe he was.
"Zack!"
He dropped to the ground, dropped the Buster sword as he knelt beside his wounded puppy. Zack's gaze was laced with pain, the mako in his eyes fading as it bled out of him. Now they were a pale, pale blue, contrasting his dark hair.
"Zack!"
He hauled his puppy upright into his arms. Zack coughed – once – and sprayed blood on Angeal's face. Angeal's heart pounded at the sight. It couldn't have been that serious, he thought, SOLDIER took gunshot wounds all the time-
His puppy gave a low, wounded keening noise, deep from his chest. Tears were leaking from Zack's eyes, streaming down the sides of his face. Angeal saw he had a cut on one cheek that was bleeding profusely.
"Zack," Angeal whispered. Zack looked at him blankly, then closed his eyes.
Zack.
His puppy.
His puppy.
Oh, Gaia, his precious puppy.
~*~
There wasn't much left to live for, Angeal thought hollowly. What am I going to do? The carnage was all around him, but he didn't pay it as much attention as he should have. Zack is dead. Zack is dead. He was like… not a son. It started off as that. He was like my lo-
"GENERAL HEWLEY!"
It was one of the thirds, Kunsel, Zack's friend. Angeal turned to the young lieutenant and wondered if Kunsel knew about zack yet. He was pale but not as much as he could have been.
"What is it, Lieutenant?"
"Zack's alive," Kunsel gasped out.
For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Angeal's brain fought furiously to comprehend Kunsel's words before it was too late to do anything about them. "Alive?" he croaked. "He was shot… he…"
All that blood…
"The medics have got him," Kunsel gasped. "Sir, he needs a blood transfusion-"
"I'm not allowed." Angeal's heart sank with the words; Zack would die anyway. "I have too much mako in my system for Zack to handle-"
"Sir, you're the only bloodtype that matches." Kunsel pulled his helmet off. "Angeal," he begged. "Angeal, he needs you."
Angeal made a split decision then, one that he would agonise over later, in the middle of the night when nothing but his demons kept him company.
"Where is he?"
~*~
Only a thin tube kept Zack alive.
The thought was disconcerting to Angeal, who was on the other end of the tube. There had been no time to harvest any of Angeal's blood to give to Zack conventionally. The medics had simply connected Angeal to Zack with the tube and, seconds later, Angeal's strong heart was working to circulate his blood into his precious puppy's body. The blood was tainted greenish-blue from the mako, and Angeal didn't like the sight of it – especially with his puppy laying so still and pale, covered with the standard-issue blankets.
"Doctor Harvey?" Angeal asked softly. He kept his focus on the bandages around Zack's stomach, stained pink and wet from the rain. It was a testament to the doctor's – the best that ShinRa had – abilities that Zack was still breathing.
"How can I help, Commander?"
Save him.
"How is he?"
The doctor sighed, taking off his gloves and reaching for a new pair, as if stalling for time. "He's very weak, sir," the doctor said quietly. "The bullet never exited his stomach, he's going to need surgery when we get back. We're going to need some more blood to give him later. For now all it's doing is sustaining him. Sir… he's bleeding out."
Bleeding out. Angeal shivered. No matter how strong a SOLDIER was, bleeding out was one thing that took a long time to recover from.
Angeal started as Zack's hand, so close to his, twitched weakly. His fingers curled and clenched up feebly. Angeal slid two of his fingers into Zack's grasp and used the others to gently massage the back of his hand.
Gaia, please protect him…
~*~
"Commander Hewley."
Angeal stood up as the doctor walked over. Kunsel had been sent back to the barracks two hours ago. Angeal wondered why the surgery was taking so long.
"How is he?"
"Sir… you should come with me."
Angeal's heart felt like it might cave in on itself as he was led back to the doctor's office. He sat down as the doctor pulled a chart off the wall, then slid a few x-rays onto a board. Angeal swallowed audibly and tensed.
"The bullet has been removed from Zack's body," the doctor said. "And though he's stable, there's some bad news as well."
The doctor gestured to an image of Zack's spine.
"What is that?" Angeal asked, referring to the small white lump.
"It's a fluid buildup," the doctor said. "And it's on his spine. Zack won't be able to walk for a while, sir. He will walk again, but… for the moment he's paralysed."
~*~
When Angeal carried Zack back to his apartment, it was raining.
They had wanted Zack to be pushed in a wheelchair. The logical side of Angeal realised that was the better solution; Zack wouldn't be jarred as much as he was when being carried.
But dammit, if Zack had to be treated like an invalid, Angeal would rather carry him in his arms, have him warm and safe and protected from the rain. Angeal tried to shield Zack by hunching his shoulders over, unable to wait for the moment where he could tuck Zack under his chocobo-patterned duvet instead of starched medical blankets.
Just as they got into the elevator, Zack opened his eyes.
Angeal stared into them for a moment; though Zack seemed groggy and slightly drugged, he didn't see any pain. The elevator began to slowly rattle to the top of the building. It was old and outdated, and the speed it went at depended on the day, sometimes even the hour.
"'Geal?"
"Hey, puppy."
Zack closed his eyes and one hand somehow found Angeal's sweater through the swath of thin hospital blankets. Zack let out a tired yawn, not at all like the usual hearty ones – small and defeated.
"We nearly there?"
"Almost, puppy," Angeal reassured him. Zack had always hated the elevator, especially when he wasn't on his own two feet.
The elevator sputtered to a stop a level below the one Angeal's apartment was on. He swore – eliciting a smile from his puppy – and began to climb the stairs, rather than risk getting them both trapped in the death machine again.
Halfway there, Zack pressed his warm cheek to Angeal's icy chest, where the SOLDIER uniform had become slightly unzipped. He didn't seem to mind the fuzz that he found there, unlike Sephiroth. Sephiroth had never liked the fuzz. Come to think of it, there had been many things about Angeal Sephiroth hadn't liked.
Angeal unlocked the front door. The cold, automatic halogen lights flickered on. Tan leather. White carpet. Books on SOLDIER decorum. Angeal was saddened to see the apartment like it was – spick and span, when normally Zack would have left out his PlayStation, discs and controllers everywhere, a trail of clothes showing where he had been before a shower.
Angeal entered Zack's room almost cautiously. He didn't go in there much; it was Zack's private space, one that shouldn't be invaded.
The bedspread was blue and yellow, chocobo patterned, that the sixteen-year-old Third Class vehemently refused to get rid of. At the end of the bed sat a stuffed Bandersnatch, a stuffed Moogle and a stuffed puppy. Zack's beloved toys, things Angeal didn't discourage.
He laid Zack down on the bed and began pulling the covers around him. The drugs lingering in Zack's blood seemed to be lulling him to sleep again. Angeal hesitantly moved the toys at the end of Zack's bed to sit up near the head with him. He laid a spare quilt over the end instead and turned up the heating.
"Where is it?" Zack murmured sleepily.
"Where's what, puppy?"
Zack frowned. "You got it for me… in the hospital. Where…"
Angeal unzipped Zack's bag with all his get well gifts in it and pulled out a stuffed chocobo. Zack smiled upon seeing it and reached out; Angeal gave it to him, though he felt strange. A stuffed chocobo wasn't something a twenty five year old man usually went out and bought, and especially not for a sixteen year old. However, it was better than what he picked up next – a leash and collar, with a note attached.
Anytime, anyplace, baby. Reno of the Turks, yo.
Zack seemed pleased with the toy, though, and tucked the chocobo under his arm.
"Do you want anything, puppy?"
"Can you stay?" Zack murmured.
Angeal paused. Then he pulled up a chair beside Zack's bed and sat down. His puppy reached for his hand. Angeal took it gently and rubbed the back as Zack's eyes slowly fluttered closed.
Angeal kissed his puppy on the forehead, so grateful to have him alive that his heart squeezed for a moment and tears blurred his vision. He let his lips rest on Zack's smooth, soft brow for a moment.
"Sweet dreams, puppy," he whispered.
~*~
"Come on, puppy."
Zack held out his hand, and Angeal took it, stretching as far as was possible so Zack would have to walk further to get to him.
Zack slid his left foot forward a little and stumbled. He reached out his other hand for Angeal, and Angeal took that one as well.
"That's it, puppy, you're doing great. You're doing great."
Angeal's smooth, deep voice was a comfort, and Zack began to take small, tentative steps. His legs were mostly numb, but had enough feeling in them that he knew he was only taking tiny, sliding steps towards his mentor.
"That's it, puppy."
Zack staggered two steps from Angeal, and suddenly found his face planted in his mentor's chest. He looked up and smiled sheepishly. Angeal's arms were locked around his waist and back carefully, holding him upright without injuring him.
"Have a nice trip, puppy?"
Zack's smile widened into a grin. "You just made a joke."
"It would appear certain aspects of your personality are contagious," Angeal said. "I can only hope they are not so to Sephiroth, for the sake of ShinRa's reputation."
There was a knock on the door, and Zack suddenly realised he was leaning heavily on Angeal's chest to stay upright. Angeal could almost see the rip as Zack somehow maneuvered himself to the couch. It hurt Angeal that his puppy was embarrassed of needing his help, because Zack behaved like he was a burden, and Angeal never saw him as a burden, but as a gift.
He pulled a blanket around Zack's legs before going to the door. As sensation returned and the winter grew fiercer, Zack grew more and more susceptible to getting cold – especially his legs. Though Zack was wearing blue jeans and odd socks, he was still shivering. With Angeal's help, Zack had lost little of the muscle in his legs; his mentor dutifully helped him carry out exercises to keep them strong when he got up, three times during the day, then once before bed.
"Genesis," Angeal said, smiling.
Genesis came bearing gifts, thankfully none of them LOVELESS inspired.
However, the laughter that Genesis's defense of the lack of ending to LOVELESS induced in Zack was the best gift they both received all week.
~*~
The first time Zack lost hope, Angeal was there.
It had been a rough day. Zack's legs had hurt so much during the normal morning exercises that he begged Angeal to stop pushing his feet towards his chest. Angeal, helpless in the face of his puppy's pain, agreed.
So when they got to the ShinRa medical building and found Zack's normal, kindly doctor on sick leave replaced with an older and crankier man, Zack already wasn't in a tolerant mood. He sat sullenly throughout the doctor's incessant, angry stream at being called in and though he cooperated, his expression promised certain injury if the doctor hadn't lessened up.
"You haven't been doing the exercises right," the doctor said, irritated. "That's why your legs hurt."
"We only talked to Doctor Rumpard three days ago," Angeal said. "He said Zack was doing fine."
"Well, he was wrong," the elderly doctor sniped. "Fair's strained a leg muscle. Or should I say, you strained it for him."
It wasn't the first time that anyone had insinuated that Angeal had been pushing Zack beyond his limits – Genesis had only gently mentioned to him the other night that Zack appeared to be getting more and more tired and certainly crankier the further the treatments and therapy progressed – but this time it was an accusation.
And what hurt the most – yes, Angeal would admit that it hurt – was that Zack didn't jump to his defense. Genesis tried to explain – he's tired, he's in pain, he feels helpless, he's lonely and cooped up inside – but Angeal couldn't help but be harsh that night while working Zack's legs. He ignored the tears he thought he glimpsed in Zack's eyes and Zack ignored the way Angeal's normally gentle, smiling mouth was turned down at the corners.
Ten minutes later, Angeal placed Zack in the shower and shut the door. He pulled the curtain and waited for his puppy to let him know he was okay, he was alright, he was almost finished.
No reassurance came.
Angeal waited, sitting on the other side of the shower and knowing Zack was closer than he had been for a while physically. It killed Angeal that now they felt so distant. It felt as if the world and a sheet of glass and a shower curtain separated them, and Angeal didn't know how he was going to fix this anymore.
I can't do this, Zack thought helplessly. I'm not ever going to walk again. I won't be a first. And Angeal won't mentor a cripple. I won't see him anymore.
Zack drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, burying his face in between them. He pretended that the tears he felt coursing down his cheeks were simply stray drops of hot water that had found their way through his black spikes and onto a convenient place on his cheek. He sniffled.
Suddenly, the shower curtain was pulled back and the glass slid open. Zack didn't move. It wasn't like Angeal hadn't seen him in all his glory before.
"Puppy?" Angeal was surprisingly gentle as he turned off the water, which had run cold, and sat beside his student, trying to ignore the sight of Zack's fair (no pun intended, though Zack would have been pleased with the joke), pale and mostly hairless skin.
He put an arm around Zack, and to his surprise, Zack leaned into him with a feeble shiver.
"Puppy, you're going to catch a cold. Let's get out of the shower." Angeal made to pull him up, but Zack stayed where he was. He whispered something.
"What?" Angeal asked, praying it wasn't what he thought it was.
"I can't," Zack whispered feebly.
"Can't what?"
"I can't do this. I can't. I'm not strong enough."
"You are not lacking in strength, Zack," Angeal said. "And even if you were, I have enough for the both of us. You are lacking in faith. That is also something I can share. I believe you can heal, and so does everybody else."
Zack looked up, and his eyes were red.
"But you were mad at me today."
Mad at him? Angeal felt guilty. Before he could ask, though, Zack began to explain.
"Because I didn't tell the doctor he was wrong." Zack rubbed his eyes, which were beginning to fill again. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I'm so tired, Angeal. I'm really sorry. I'll do better tomorrow."
Angeal gently blanketed Zack in a towel. He realised after a moment that it was his, small on his frame and light blue, big on Zack's frame and dark blue. He began to dry Zack, attempting to ease the shivering a little bit.
"I'm really sorry," Zack whispered, his eyes still full of tears.
"You don't have anything to apologise for, Puppy," Angeal murmured, soothingly rubbing the thigh Zack had strained up the side. "Everyone's right. I've been pushing you too hard. It's only making you sore and tired. I'll be gentler from now, okay?"
"You were always gentle," Zack murmured, slightly startled by Angeal's hand on his thigh but finding he liked it. "Just… demanding."
Angeal smiled. "Whichever, puppy. Come on. I'll rub some salve into that muscle before bed. Your friend Cloud brought by something called Nibelheim Muscle Rub while you were sleeping today. He said it might help with the pain."
Angeal set Zack on his own king sized bed – out of a need for space more than anything – and made sure the towel covered most of Zack, except the thigh he would be rubbing the salve into. He coated two fingers in the salve – swallowed as it was strangely reminiscent of his relationship with Sephiroth – and began to knead Zack's thigh.
Zack hissed and grabbed the soft comforter in his hands, clenching till his knuckles went pale. Angeal immediately stopped. "What is it, puppy?"
"It hurts."
"This'll make it feel a little better, puppy. I'm being as gentle as possible."
"I know you are." Zack shifted. "You always are."
"Alright. Just try to loosen up a little. It won't hurt as much if you're not tense."
Zack shivered a little – Angeal made a mental note to dry Zack's hair – as Angeal kept probing the sore muscle. His hands slowly unclenched from the comforter and he sighed.
"See? That feels better, doesn't it?"
"Doesn't hurt anymore," said Zack with a smile. "It feels good, actually."
The door was flung open abruptly. Angeal hastily covered Zack with the towel as Genesis stared at them, wide eyed. His eyes caught the small note on how to treat Zack's sore muscle, the muscle rub, and Zack's wet hair.
"Uh," he said, all traces of his normal sly tact gone.
Zack went pink, realising what Genesis had been thinking. Angeal simply raised an eyebrow at him, and Genesis walked in.
"I forgot this."
He grabbed a random object off the shelf and ran out.
"Angeal?"
Angeal looked down at his puppy, who was fidgeting restlessly and yawning.
"Yeah, puppy?"
"Can I stay here tonight?" Zack asked in a small voice. "I… don't like… being alone. I can't sleep properly because I can't get comfortable…"
"Of course, puppy."
~*~
It was difficult for Angeal to let his puppy take those first few steps alone.
When the doctor said Zack was ready, Angeal disagreed. His puppy wasn't ready, in Angeal's eyes would never be ready. His puppy had been burned, badly, unable to walk.
Angeal had helped him walk again. Now he was afraid Zack would stand away from him, walk away from him, leave him in the lurch of his odd socks. Logically, he knew Zack wouldn't. He knew his puppy would still rely on him for some time, would still be off missions.
But that day, Zack walked – didn't slide his feet or grapple his way – walked down the hallway at the doctor's surgery. With each step, the brightness behind the doctor's smile increased. Angeal was helpless, taking it all in; the colour of Zack's socks, today red and blue, the rustle of his jeans – jeans that Angeal still helped him slide into in the morning – Zack's sleeves pulled down over his hands because it was chilly and snowing outside, and Zack was a country boy used to hot, humid air. Angeal remembered that Zack was wearing a long sleeved white top under a black t-shirt and a hooded sweatshirt with a wolf on the front that day.
Zack didn't seem tired when he completed the exercises that day, even though they were probably too easy on him now. He looked at Angeal while they waited for the doctor's bill in the lobby.
"I'm tired," he said pointedly.
Angeal paid the bill and scooped Zack up obediently, reflecting how well Zack had him trained. He was really more of the puppy now.
However, he also knew that Zack wasn't sincerely tired. He was doing it because he wanted Angeal to feel… loved? Important? Needed, maybe?
Snow landed on Zack's hair as they crossed the silent courtyard. Angeal was so busy watching it he almost ran directly into Sephiroth.
"Long time no see," Angeal stated calmly.
"Indeed," Sephiroth said coolly, inclining his head. "Although what I did see was impressive."
Zack gave a violent shiver in his arms, and Angeal moved on without another word. He could sense the question Zack was dying to ask and looked at him in amusement.
"Well, puppy?"
"You and Sephiroth?" Zack blurted.
"Once," Angeal said quietly, a little surprised Zack wasn't put off by his mentor's sexuality. "Not anymore, though, puppy."
Zack tilted his head. "Why?"
"It just didn't work. We're fine as friends… but not as anything else, it would appear."
"Was he compensating?"
Angeal almost dropped Zack then, his mouth dropping open. Zack grinned at him devilishly. "Just making sure you're listening," he said airily, then giggled and pressed his face to Angeal's thumping chest. It was warm and he was content.
Though Zack's cheek was icy, even through Angeal's sweater, he didn't complain. "Puppy, what are you trying to say about me?"
A blush rose into Zack's cheeks, and Angeal cursed himself. He had taken it too far.
"Angeal," Zack said, smiling. "Are you flirting with me?"
"Perhaps a little, puppy, out of pity."
"Pity?!" Zack squawked indignantly. "I don't need anybody's pity!"
"You certainly don't," Angeal chuckled. He set Zack down near the door of the apartment, though it pained him to do so, and punched in the keycode. Zack walked in ahead of him – not quite bouncing, but nearly there – and Angeal smiled.
Perhaps his puppy would continue to need him for a little while after all.
~*~
From then on, it was difficult to get Zack out of bed in the morning for doctor's appointments or therapy.
Zack's legs had begun to seize from the cold, something that had happened the winter before as well, if Angeal remembered correctly, just not as badly – and his spine, where the bullet had grazed it, was aching.
"Here, puppy."
Zack reached eagerly for the heat pack presented to him, but Angeal was determined to be a good… guardian. He lifted it just out of Zack's reach and watched the smooth, fine-boned face of his protégé fall.
"Say please, puppy."
"Don't you mean beg?" Zack snickered.
Angeal rolled his eyes. "Say please."
Zack put his slightly curled hands beneath his chin and pouted at him. "Pleeeease?"
Angeal smiled and sat near his puppy. "Here, Zack," he said, passing it to his student. Zack beamed at him, and, before either of them registered, he had placed a quick kiss on his mentor's scratchy chin. Angeal remained still, and Zack blushed.
"S-Sorry!"
"Zack," Angeal said gently, "never be sorry to express affection."
Zack blinked as Angeal pulled him gently to nestle up. He worried at his lip but eventually forgot about it in watching the movie he was; Angeal, however, remained focused on his student's shifting shoulder muscles, and the slightly burning place on his chin where Zack's soft pink lips had grazed his rough, sandy skin.
~*~
Awoken by a sound of discomfort, Angeal shifted – and tensed when he felt a body sprawled across his.
His first thought was that Sephiroth had broken in – but the body was far too warm and far too small to be the silver-haired general. No, instead Angeal looked down and received a spike of black hair up his left nostril.
Zack, on top of him, was trembling like a newborn kitten, and Angeal cursed himself for falling asleep – and for forgetting that temperatures in Gongaga never fell below thirty degrees Celsius. He slowly eased out from beneath Zack, who gave another pained moan.
Angeal saw that the heat pack had slipped off and was lying over his thigh. He picked it up and placed it in the microwave before heading to the hall cupboard and pulling out the two thickest, heaviest blankets he had and spreading them over his puppy, tucking him in.
He took the heat pack from the microwave, finding it too hot for himself but knowing it would thaw Zack's sore lower back very well. He slid it in under the covers, pulling them back a little and smoothing Zack's shirt away from the small of his back.
There was the scar, twisted and horrible but never ugly. It would always be there, and it would always serve as a reminder to Angeal that he stood to lose more than he ever had.
"'Geal?"
"Go back to sleep, puppy."
"What're you doing?"
"The heat pack was cold. Hold still." Angeal placed the heat pack on Zack's back, too kind and tired himself to move Zack to bed. He resigned himself to the recliner when Zack suddenly captured Angeal's lips with his own.
Angeal didn't move at all. Zack's lips were a little cold and chapped, but so soft. He hesitantly kissed his student back. He wanted to push his tongue between Zack's lips and caress his white teeth and all-too-visible at times tongue, but before he could, Zack pulled away.
"Stay with me tonight?"
And that was how Angeal ended up with Zack sprawled across his chest again, holding the heat pack in place on the small of Zack's spine.
~*~
"Look at the cosy little puppy," Genesis murmured.
Angeal turned from the coffee pot. He had been reluctant to leave a still-sleeping Zack on the couch – until his redheaded friend turned up demanding coffee in copious amounts for a hangover. Zack had curled his legs up now, hugging the heat pack tightly and buried eye-deep in the two blankets. Angeal kept a close eye on him; mornings were always the worst.
Zack stirred.
"Puppy?" Angeal called.
"Mornin'," Zack mumbled.
"How's your spine?"
"S'okay."
"Legs?"
"They hurt a bit."
"Where?" Angeal's hands were already seeking out the ridges between Zack's muscle and bone. When Zack nodded, Angeal started digging his fingers in firmly, but gently, stimulating the pain away from his puppy.
He only wished it would work the same for him.
~*~
Angeal still had nightmares about that mission.
Screams, death all around, blood. Lots of blood. Lots of Zack's blood.
He sighed as he pushed his comforter away and got out of bed, pulling on a black t-shirt. He walked into the bathroom, not bothering to turn the hall light on, as he knew Zack would be sleeping.
Reaching the bathroom, he turned the lights on, wincing as the harsh, white, halogen bulbs caused lights to dance behind his eyes. He splashed his face with water and stared at his reflection, remembering Zack's mako-induced hallucinations of the first month in his recovery. Remembering that the blood he had given Zack, containing three times the amount the third was used to, was what had caused them.
"Angeal?"
He turned around. Zack stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, the stuffed chocobo tucked under his arm. Though Angeal wasn't feeling the cold, Zack was the closer they got to Christmas, and he was wearing flannel pyjamas, a gift from one of the nurses in the hospital.
"Why are you up, puppy?" he asked softly.
"Why are you up?" Zack yawned insolently.
"I couldn't sleep," Angeal confessed. "You, puppy?"
"Same."
Angeal watched Zack for a moment, then walked towards him, resting a hand on his puppy's neck. "Come on, puppy, back to bed."
"I'm not tired." Zack yawned again.
Angeal smiled slightly. "Don't lie, pup, it's rude."
His puppy yawned. "Sorry, 'Geal."
That night, they somehow both ended up curled in Zack's warm bed. Angeal reflected that it was the warmest place in the whole apartment, even though the room was frigid and cold in the face of the heavy blanket of snow that hid them from the rest of the world.
~*~
"Angeal!"
Angeal tensed and raised his hand to the handle of his Buster Sword when he heard Zack's anxious cry, hurrying towards where he thought he'd heard his student's voice. He found Zack crouched on the ground, over something.
"What's wrong, pup?"
Zack opened his closed hands carefully. In his palms lay a tiny bird, a zebra finch, one tiny wing bent at a strange angle. Angeal felt a pang of sympathy for the little bird, and he took it carefully. The tiny heartbeat of the bird's downy chest fluttered rapidly against his fingertip.
"We'll fix it, Puppy."
Zack nodded anxiously. "Will it fly again?"
"I'd say so, pup."
A flock of doves took off from tree suddenly, feathers flashing between the light green buds just peeking through the foliage. Zack watched in awe.
"I wish I could fly, Angeal."
If it's any consolation, puppy, I wish you could too.
A/N please r&r :) flames will be used to roast marshmallows.