These steps are so heavy. Every inch is a mile; every sound a rhapsody.

Is he still here? Should I run? Can I?

I can feel every muscle, organ, and cell in my body as it throbs achingly. There's this pulse banging through my head. It's like this soft thumping, but I can't really make it out.

Is there someone screaming? Should I help? Can I?

Can I do anything? Is there anyone here?

I feel like I'm falling through the floor, but I can tell that I'm on my knees. What even are knees? Why are they called knees? Why does the word 'knee' start with a k? Why do we have knees? Why are we even alive? What's the point of a heartbeat without room for improvement? Will we ever really grow old? Is this all a game? Am I just a player? Is this really how I'm supposed to feel? After everything that's happened? Am I fading away just as he did?

Who did?

I think I can feel the floor shifting beneath me. It's slowly slipping downwards as my vision sways. I want to scream. I want to cry and yell and fall down with the ground. I don't want to breathe. I want everything that's been taken away back. Please, Gaia, let me scream. And then let me die.

These steps are so heavy. Every inch is a mile; every sound a rhapsody.

Despite his life literally dripping out of his chest, Cloud can feel himself rise and walk forward. He wants his legs to drop down and save him the trouble of walking a few feet before his heart stops beating. His blood is so warm; everything is warm. The darkness blinds him.

And then the red lights of the reactor peak into his line of sight. He knows where he is, and he knows what he's done. He's killed Sephiroth. The most powerful being that ever lived died by his hand. His lowly, worthless hand.

If Cloud could cry, he would. But his body is holding on to any and all of the fluids it can.

So he stumbles on.

The short hallway feels like it's growing, but the red lights are getting brighter. He can see the top of the stairs leading down to the mako pods. The stairs.

The stairs. Zack.

But it's too late; as Cloud passes through the door frame, his legs give out. Time slows down as the world begins to fade. His blood is drying, as if every drop has left his system. He's no longer dying; by the time he hits the floor, he'll be dead.

And yet, he wasn't granted that pleasure.

Cloud falls into something soft and warm; he can feel a heartbeat that's very much alive. It's beating strong and hard and healthily. Everything about this heart is totally fine. Maybe if he could share this feeling; possibly borrow it for an hour or two; he could live. If he wanted.

He feels arms wrapping around him as his psyche crumbles apart. His head gently falls beneath a pauldron, and a muffled voice floats into his ears.

"Cloud…you did it…" He knows it's Zack, but he's just so tired. He was ready to be dead, and now Zack's keeping him alive. Zack has that heart. And he's already sharing it with Cloud; he didn't even have to ask.

A hand slides down his back, but Cloud can't really feel it. He can't feel anything; everything's blurry, and he's just so tired.

The chest beneath him vibrates. "Crap. A stab wound?" Cloud feels himself shifting backwards slightly, but his eyes can't make contact with Zack. He can just barely see that outline of spiky, black hair falling every which way behind him. There's the soft skin, pale and sweaty, but it's still there.

Zack's still here.

Cloud can see Zack's lips move, but the sounds are filtering through water. Even if he could respond, Cloud's answer wouldn't have made sense. He's supposed to be dead after all.

But he's not. Not yet anyway; Zack's heartbeat can only do so much.

Cloud leans forward again, back right beneath Zack's shoulder, back to the warmth and soft cotton uniform that only smells of sweat. No blood. Zack's still here.

And then there's this cooling sensation breathing against his back. If he could still feel the pain, it would have dulled. Cloud falls asleep to the sound of some life slipping back into him.

Zack is careful to make sure his hands don't slip. He only has this one cure left, and he needs to make sure he can get every ounce of its energy into keeping Cloud from bleeding out. It'll be a long walk down Mt. Nibel.

As the last of the cure fades into Cloud's wound, Zack lets out a sigh. Cloud's far from out of danger, but he should last awhile longer. Hopefully long enough.

Zack flips Cloud up and onto his shoulders awkwardly. It's the best position he can think of to keep Cloud's head somewhat resting on him and keep his chest elevated even slightly. He just needs to start walking.

Angeal's sword is at his feet. He picks it up and looks down. He imagined Sephiroth to bleed even remotely more human, but he can't really prove anything. Sephiroth is gone because Cloud killed him. He heard Cloud's cry of strength as he was jogging back into the reactor. Tifa was barely alive as it was, and Zack knew Cloud was capable of any and everything. He could take down Sephiroth, and he did. Spike nearly died in the process, but, somehow, he did it.

And when Zack made it up those stairs to catch Cloud, he was so relieved.

Cloud's still here.