Title: Chronicles
Rated: T
By: Evantis
Summary: The last night together. ZackCloud
A drabble, written in about half an hour, plus minus. Excuse the mistakes. Very briefly edited. I apologise for the complete lack of plot. It seems these days I can only produce these mediocre little fics. x(
For Nut, because I haven't written anything for her in a while.
It is on nights like these that he cannot find his sleep. It is on nights like these that he wishes that he had never joined Shin-Ra, never even heard of the hell-damned electric company. It is on nights like these that he wishes that his life had never been upturned in this manner.
It is on nights like these that Hojo clocks in a few extra hours. It is on nights like these that the tortures and experiments become unbearable. It is on nights like these that he cannot stop himself from screaming his throat hoarse. It is on nights like these that he is finally thrown back into the cell an hour before midnight.
It is on nights like these he is thankful to Gaia that they do not put him back into the tube.
It is on nights like these that he gets the company of the one person who doesn't want to hurt him.
He leans against the hard, rough walls, his feet spread out before him on the filthy cement. The cell is box-shaped and terribly cramped. In that position his feet nearly meet the other end of the wall. Ventilation is poor, and the air is musty and damp. Sweat rolls down the sides of his face, uncontrolled. He can feel the effects of the rough treatment. Every inch of his body feels electrified, and his heart is thumping faster than normal. A throbbing, incessant pain screams in his arm – speaking volumes of the number of times he was jabbed. His skin is punctured multiple times, and the red dots look utterly hideous.
But he doesn't make a sound. He grits his teeth, and he endures.
Screams echo through the corridor. Agonising, heart-wrenching cries that make Zack grit his teeth harder. He clenches the fist of his uninjured arm.
Hysterical, maniacal laughter.
And more screaming.
A long, dragging hour later, the metal gate of the cell is forcefully shoved back, eliciting a screech of rusty metal against the ground, making the hairs on the back of Zack's neck stand up.
The guards throw the boy onto Zack's lap without a second thought, and begin the task of returning the filthy old gate back into its original position.
Zack pays them no heed, only uses his good arm to grasp the boy sprawled on his lap, and bring the trembling teenager against his body, resting his forehead on the skinny shoulder.
Cloud is panting heavily. Cool liquid drips onto Zack's clothes, and from the metallic stench – he knows it is blood. The smaller teenager is evidently holding back his screams of pain, only making the occasional whimper. The blonde has only one working arm left – his left, and he grabs onto Zack's shoulder as if it meant life to him, and continues to breathe harshly.
"…hurts…" he wheezes.
"I know," Zack whispers, arm encircling Cloud's thin waist.
Suddenly the blonde snaps his head to the left, and begins to empty the contents of his stomach. Thankfully it is not much, and after some slightly mouldy bread and stale cheese is thrown up, the blonde begins to dry heave. He shivers as he does, and Zack does what he can – holding back his untrimmed-for-months hair just in case something is thrown out, stroking his back soothingly when he is done, and letting the blonde slump against his chest, his weak body completely devoid of strength.
They sit and attempt to rest in the silence. Zack does his best to ignore the putrid smell that permeates the air. He tries to ignore the pain of his arm that still refuses to relent. He tries to focus on Cloud, tries to focus only on an escape plan.
A way out of this hellhole.
"…wanna…go…home, Z-Zack…"
Cloud looks up, and Zack bites his bottom lip at the sight of those blue eyes, shimmering indubitably with mako. How much of that illicit substance had they injected into Cloud? How much had they forced into his bloodstream?
The glowing looks so wrong, so out of place.
These weren't Cloud's eyes.
Cloud's eyes had a glow of their own – bright and full of life. They did not need mako.
"Zack…" the blonde slurs, almost like a drunkard.
He knows the overdose of mako is finally having effects on Cloud, who had never been subjected to it before. It is destroying his mind, and all rational thought. It is breaking Cloud's personality, making him merely a ghost of what he used to be.
Zack feels a lump in his throat, when he thinks to himself, in a small, dark corner of his mind – how Cloud will never be the same again.
How blue eyes will never get back their natural glow, how his blonde hair will never be quite so sunny, how the childish, ingenuous face was gone forever, and how Cloud might not even remember him.
The clench in his heart hurts more than his arm.
"Zack…wanna go…home…"
Zack says nothing for a moment.
And then, "Go to sleep, Cloud."
"…hurts, Zack…"
"I know," Zack says, resting a hand on the blonde's dirty head. He feels the blonde locks, long and errant. The blonde spikes fall into Cloud's eyes, bringing out the artificial glow of his eyes even more. "We'll go home soon."
"…p-promise?"
"Of course."
They sleep, Cloud on Zack's lap. In that cramped little cell, there is no space for them to sleep side by side. There is no chance of them getting comfortable. Zack does what he can to avoid the mess Cloud has made unintentionally, and they sleep.
The next day, Zack shatters his glass tube.
The next day, Zack carries Cloud to Midgar.
The next day, Zack says goodbye.
Two days later, Cloud walks to Midgar alone.