(Broad shoulders against the sky, sword raised to strike. Black trail of blood across red carpet. The sharp smell of hot dust and gunpowder. Would you like to but a flower? Raindrops on a lake of blood, a city floats in the distance. The plink of materia hitting water. Bullet holes so thick they cut clean through a leather harness strap. Yellow rusty truck cab, black spikes and blue eyes. Warm sticky blood on my cheek. You'll be my living legacy. The weight of a sword, a promise.)

"Hey Mister, think you could spare a ride? Just to Midgar?"

"I dunno. Your friend looks like he needs help."

"Right, which he'll get. In Midgar."

"...Fine. But you're both riding in the back."

There's too much light, it's hard to see. Hard to think. The stuff underfoot is dirt. One foot goes in front of the other. The arm around me is Zack. Even when everything fades, and I can't remember dirt or foot, there is always Zack. Look up. A flatbed pickup, yellow with rust and age.

(Roar of bullets.)

(Goodnight, Zack.)

"NO!" I can't get in that truck. Zack can't get in that truck. Knees lock, feet dig in. Zack stumbles to a halt.

"Cloud?" Zack's eyes widen. "Holy shit, Cloud. Are you awake?"

That's me. I'd forgotten again. Part of me wants to hold on to the name, the rest focuses on do not get in that truck. "We can't..." forming words is even harder than forming thoughts, but I have to try again. "We can't... get in there. Zack."

"It's okay, Cloud, he's just giving us a ride. Just this last little bit, and we'll finally get to Midgar." (To flowers and pews.) The arm tightens as Zack pulls me closer to the truck.

Panic. "No!" My arm swings without thought and Zack hits the ground several yards away. Without Zack, I fall, too.

The old man in the cab quickly pulls his arm in and guns the throttle, "Aw hell, no way I'm letting some looney have a fit in my truck," he speeds off. As the truck gets further away, the feeling of dread (city floating in the distance, red red rain) recedes also, replaced by relief.

Boots crunch on dirt. It's a little easier to look up; the brightness isn't so overwhelming now. I even seem to have held onto my name. The only thing that really matters, though, is that Zack is safe.

1/1/2012

Author's note: I have some Ideas for a continuation of this, if anyone's actually interested.