Hello! I've come back! I'll leave my comments for later, though, no one likes to see a block of text before the story.

Title: Prism

Pairing: Zack/Cloud

Rating: M

Warnings: Blood, language. I don't think anything else, but if someone finds any other triggers, let me know.

Cloud had a habit of rolling his thumb over his dog tags. It was such a regular, unconscious movement that he didn't even notice when he did it anymore. He just did it, staring down at the week's delivery schedule - pulled them unthinkingly out of his shirt with a jangle of metal against metal and pressed them between his fingers. The familiar lines of raised aluminum ran against his skin - and he stopped. Something felt strange about the worn engravings. Blinking, he looked away from the schedule and down at the tags, bringing them into the lamplight, and -

stared. Between his fingers, letters glinting in the morning sun, his well-loved tags read:

FAIR, ZACK.
83690470188
SOLDIER 1ST
TYPE O
GONGAGA

He- he had to be seeing things, right? Maybe he was just tired, a trick of the eyes. Cloud slipped his hands under the collar of his sweater, pulling the ball chain free and over his head. If he got a better look at it, he was sure he'd see his name, feel like an idiot, and calmly go about the rest of his day.

It didn't help.

He ran his fingers over the metal, feeling for the "STRIFE, CLOUD " that should have been there. The definitive feel of a "Z" rolled under his skin. But - that wasn't right. He felt it again, trying to make sense of it, searching for the "C" of his name. Earlier in the morning they were fine, they had said the right thing and felt the right way when he woke up. When had that changed?

Those tags were his. He knew they were. Zack was dead, his own tags lost forever because Cloud had been too shaken to take them, so it was only possible that the ones he wore were his own. He wore them everywhere, everyday, he knew what they said and his mind was just playing tricks - why, after all this time would it - and they were his fucking tags! He knew it, he knew it, so why wouldn't Zack's name disap-

"Cloud?"

He jumped at the knock on his door. He couldn't- Tifa would worry, he would just have to-

"Come in."

She opened the door just wide enough for her to stand in the frame, always respecting his space. "Morning," she said, a sleepy smile brightening her face. "You're running behind, I was just making sure you were up." She was just closing the door, and Cloud was just beginning to relax, when she paused, eyes locking on what was cradled in his palms. "Your old tags," she said, opening the door a bit wider. Cloud saw the spark of curiosity in her eyes."I've never actually seen them before." He didn't know if he should let her look. He felt his chest tightening at the thought of her face as she read Zack's name. At the same time, the thought of her proving his eyes wrong made a heavy dread settle in the pit of his stomach. Either way, there was only one way to know. Cloud extended his hand, offering the tags to her.

The way she took them from him was careful, almost reverent, holding them in her palms as one would hold a newly hatched chick. "Strife, Cloud, infantryman from Nibelheim," she said, her tone of voice wondering. He watched as she turned it in her hands, taking in every scratch, dent, and nick. She gave a slight shrug and a chuckle, and held her hands back out for him. "Makes you sound so simple, doesn't it?"

Cloud nodded again and took them back from her, looping them over his head. "FAIR, ZACK" still glinted up at him, but despite his earlier worry, he actually felt a little better. A sick sort of warmth spread through him, thinking of how they'd read when he'd first appeared in Midgar - STRIFE, CLOUD, SOLDIER 1st. It had been a lie then, too. He was strangely comforted by the familiarity of the illusion.

He could handle this.

"Sorry for being late, I'll get going now," Cloud said, standing as he tucked the tags back under his sweater. "I already ate, so if I hurry I can make it on time."

"Ok, be careful," Tifa said to his back, following him out of his door. "There's a storm coming this afternoon."

"I will, thanks," he said, his voice just above the volume of his feet pounding down the stairs. He heard her sigh with exasperation, knowing that he wouldn't really heed her warning, but he couldn't bring himself to take the time to reassure her. He left her upstairs on the landing.

As he grabbed Fenrir's keys off of their hook, his mind turned back to Zack. It felt good to carry a piece of him again. His only memento had been Zack's sword, now standing in the church as a memorial. Cloud still felt bare without its weight - the weight of both of their lives - on his back. So even if it was a lie, even if the engraving was a product of his own making, he secretly coveted it.

He swept through the kitchen, pulling the tags out again as he went. He didn't stop to look, but he did let his thumbnail scrape across the name again, catching on the lines of the letters.

He took comfort in the warm, heavy feeling of Zack's weight around his neck.

Yay! Thanks for reading, hope you liked! I posted this over on as well, where I can actually keep all of my pretty fonts and html coding. Anyone else annoyed by the document uploader? Also, what's with the new "No explicit content" bullshit? It's probably not new anymore, but it's new to me, and stupid. If you want to follow me around, or be able to post whatever you want (Oh, I'm looking at you, RPF and bandom) livejournal has tons of comms over there. The only thing is that the FF7 Clack communities are kind of dead, which is why I'm back here again. I have a link to my profile in my profile, if you want to visit. Thanks again for reading!