Disclaimer- I don't own Crisis Core.
AN- Well. I wrote this in 30mins and I haven't slept all night, so if this is in any way confusing, let me know and when I wake up I'll fix it. Review, please.
There's confusion and delusion and the way that after five years of something awful your mind won't let you remember it's impossible to tell whether this is a dream or a memory or reality or something entirely different. There's cold rain, pinpricks of ice against exposed skin, a sense of urgency you can't explain, a deepseated worry that won't leave as you drag yourself forward, just those few feet it takes to reach him.
A name comes to you. "Z-Zack."
It's his voice and the way he smelled and the feeling of strong arms around you when really it's sticky hot blood on your hands, on your cheek and your hair and someone speaking in a familar boyish manner saying something very important that at the moment you can't quite comprehend since your mind is still singing, humming, murmering repetative pleas, prayers of whywhywhywhywhy.
The voice is desperate, breathless and masculine. You knew him, you know him. You repeat what he says in a dazed, bewildered tone as you still can't quite understand how you got there, exactly who he is, and why this all seems wrong, utterly wrong.
It's spiky black hair and a smile that lights up a room. It's violet mako bright eyes gleaming with a promise, with a secret, that's what it is, at least, in your mind.
But here, right now, in the rain with your knees in the mud as you sit next to a body not quite dead, still speaking and it's a sword's hilt in your hands that feels right when it shouldn't since you were the failure, not the success, since he was the hero, not you.
It's the sound of his breaths, raspy, catching in his throat and the way your mind distantly registers the amount of pain he must be in, how little time he must have left but you don't, you can't do anything other than sit by him as his breath stutters and stops, his chest stops moving. Heart stops beating.
It's the contrast of hot tears running down your cheeks and cool rain splashing on your face.
Someone is screaming and it might be you.
AN- Goodnight. Hope it was legible/enjoyable. I love angst. It helps me sleep. (I'm an odd person.) Please review! I also love feedback.