Pieces
By: Phoenix Dayze
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy or its characters. This is for fun only.
Zack grit his teeth. The familiar green presence was welling up, flooding his mind, pressing forward, reaching…just as it had in life. Not even death could chase away this creeping silence, the demon. He clenched his fists against the flare-white void and waited, braced for what he knew would follow. It always came, the Call. Seconds after Sephiroth made himself known, Cloud would answer. It was something that Zack had learned he could depend on in this place.
It began as a small trembling of his muscles, then the keening, agonizing, soul-shattering essence of Cloud dug it's way through the nothingness, seeking it's master, the fractured remnants of Cloud's soul clawing against the strain, attempting to hold himself back when all he wanted to do was let go.
Zack's eyes squeezed closed and his fingernails cut into his palms as his pain/questions/need/fear/loss pounded inside him, seeking purchase, pulling him along from the inside out, holding on to him like Zack had asked him to do so many, many times. But he wished now that Cloud would just forget, let him go, make the terrible, sucking hurt go away.
It grew stronger, louder, and Zack jerked forward, stumbling on reluctant feet until he was slammed against emptiness that may as well have been a wall of glass. All the layers of his skin shredded, his bones shattered, and the pain was immense, but his heart hurt worst of all. It was harder and deeper, and Zack couldn't breathe as Cloud tried to forcibly suck/pull/Call him through.
But there was nowhere to go. He was dead. And after a moment, it ceased. And the raw, pulsing channel that wavered like a dying flame between himself and Cloud, was nothing but an echoing hollow. Cloud was still lost, alone, and anchorless. There was a vague prick of ache, of empty/need/please…
Zack felt sick. Cloud needed him, and he wasn't there. He had saved his life, true, but Zack was starting to think that he'd abandoned Cloud to a fate worse than death. He hadn't moved on, hadn't been able to with his mind as ravaged as it had been. He was still hurting, more than before, because, together had been the point. And he was still…dying…
Phantom tears whispered against Zack's cheeks like wind from a dream. I'm sorry, Cloud. I'm here, you know? Even if you can't feel me, I'm here. Be strong, Spikey. You can beat this, I know it. We're friends, remember? You promised. Now get up. Go home. You don't need the sword/cliff/flowers/church anymore. Live for me, Cloud. Live for me!
Zack couldn't be sure, but at that moment, he could have sworn that he felt a brief ghost of a smile flutter against the empty, aching shell of his best friend. And deep beneath the rhythm of his remembered heartbeat… I will. For my friend…