Pairings: Eventual Sephiroth/Cloud/Zack
Canon: Wolf's Rain (anime) + Final Fantasy VII (original game only)
Summary: Wolves, humans, and the true nature of monsters. Finding the Promised Land means losing a part of yourself in the process.
Rating/Warnings: R – some violence, lab torture, drama, some language, some implicit sexuality.
Chapter Warnings: Some graphic violence.
Word Count: 15,208
Minor Revision: 22 April 2010
Gravity
Hades' Phoenix
1.
When Zack stumbled his way into Nibelheim, he wondered if he'd somehow managed to go back in a time a century or two. One just didn't find these kinds of sleepy backwater towns anymore, not since the Planet had started dying and taking its outlying ecosystems with it.
The end of winter had brought with it heavy floods as the snow melted from the Nibel mountains and turned the air chill. Trudging up the long pass, dodging the occasional sleepy dragon and the paw-sucking mud-holes, Zack wryly mused that he hadn't been dry for the last three months. His thick fur had acquired the distinct stench of mildew and each of his steps was marked with a loud squelch.
In the dip between two mountain peaks was a village, tainting the crisp air with the smells of wood-smoke and human industry, the sharpness of new thatch and the nose-wrinkling stench of garbage. None of that mattered, however, when he could pick out the presence of food.
Grinning to himself, Zack managed to pick up his pace and slip into the town. People were bustling around, shoveling slush from the muddied road, shopping, trading gossip now that they'd been freed from their cottages. It was already busy, but the sight of a stranger in a SOLDIER uniform carrying an enormous sword sent a wave of fresh murmurs through the village.
"Sorry to bother you," Zack said with a charming smile to an elderly woman, "but I'm looking for a bed and a warm meal. Any recommendations?"
"Aye, you'll be wanting to see ol' Haussler, he runs the inn around here about three houses down. Here now, what's a ShinRa doing out here?"
She peered at him nearsightedly, eyes nearly disappearing behind her wrinkles, and Zack put a sheepish arm behind his head. "I got separated from my squad," he lied smoothly. "We got sent out here to take care of some of these dragons."
"Nice to know our taxes are doing us some good, even if they send us city boys," she sniffed, absently patting down her ragged skirts.
"Only the best for a place as renowned for hospitality as your lovely town," he winked at her. He earned a faint blush and a rough harrumph as she tried to cover her embarrassment.
"Yes, well, you be going on now," the woman told him archly. "I expect the mayor'll want to natter with you later."
Great. "Great! I'd be honored." He swept her bow and strode confidently down the street, hearing the woman harrumph again in a fluster.
The inn was easy to find, practically miniature by Midgar standards but one of the largest buildings in the village. The innkeeper, a large, sleepy man called simply Haussler, gave the SOLDIER a room and a meal with little fuss, and for the first time in a month Zack slid into a hot bath with a full stomach and an obscene groan of happiness.
He could have died right then and there without any regrets. Naturally, this meant that after he'd hardly gotten out of the tub, put on a fresh set of clothes (kindly provided by the innkeeper's son), and made sure the bathroom was fur-free, the mayor was already waiting for him downstairs. Just to welcome a ShinRa official to their humble little town, of course.
Of course. Goddamn fucking politicians.
Zack pasted on an easy smile and shook the man's hand with a firm but polite grip. Something about the man's scent was slightly off, his expression a little too eager.
"Welcome to Nibelheim," said Mr Lockhart after introducing himself. They both took a seat at the small table by the inn's entrance. "How may we be of service to you?"
"Actually, I just got lost," Zack laughed. "My squad's supposed to be taking care of some of the monsters around here, since we were hearing rumors that they were interfering with the reactor. Unfortunately we weren't prepared for the storms around here. You must be a brave people, to live out here, I don't think I'd last a week with this cold!"
He said this all in a such a way that Lockhart smiled, flattered. "It's hard, but we get by."
"Well, I won't be in your hair for too long, sir. I've got standing orders to wait a while in the nearest town if we got separated before heading back to Midgar, but I figure in the meantime I could take care of any monster problems you folks might be having. Anything big, smelly, and nasty?"
Lockhart took a sip from his coffee mug. "We do pretty well for ourselves up here, Lieutenant Fair. It's been a long time since the last time we had to worry about something our own boys couldn't handle."
"You know where I am if you need something done, sir, even if it's just to help carry the firewood. And none of this Lieutenant stuff, I get that enough from my superiors – please, just call me Zack." The SOLDIER smiled again, playing up the charisma, and was rewarded with some of the tension unconsciously leaving Lockhart's shoulders. Cheerful but respectful, he'd learned.
Their conversation moved to local gossip, the mayor talking about his town with the kind of exasperated affection of an overbearing parent. Zack nodded and agreed in all the right places, and soon Lockhart insisted on walking the SOLDIER through the market to introduce him to all the most important citizens. Thinking longingly of the warm bed upstairs, Zack agreed, and found himself trudging through the snow again.
"We don't get many visitors up here," Lockhart was saying, nodding officiously to a passing man carrying a bundle of firewood on his back. "Our last one was Master Zangan, who decided to stay and took my daughter as a student."
"Master Zangan?" Zack repeated with some surprise. "I've – oof!"
A boy had careened around the corner of a house and smacked straight into Zack, almost bouncing off the solid SOLDIER and into a snow drift. Recovering quickly, the boy muttered a vague sort of apology and made to dash off again, but Zack managed to catch his arm. "Hey, wait!"
He stopped, blinked, and wondered how he could have missed this boy's – no, this wolf's – scent, something that was deeper and earthier than the humans smells around them.
"Strife," Lockhart barked, "what in the Planet's name are you doing, boy?"
Before the kid could answer, a group of three or four other boys came around the corner, and only missed running into the adults because they weren't moving as fast as the first boy.
"Sir!" one of them yelped at the sight of the mayor, but all of their eyes were fixed on Zack. He grinned at them out of reflex.
"You boys best be behaving, especially with a SOLDIER around." Lockhart likely meant it as a tease, but his tone made it sound more like a warning.
"Yessir," they chorused insincerely, still fascinated.
The boy in Zack's grip, however, had frozen, and was staring up at him with wide blue eyes. When Zack winked, his flush of exertion deepened with embarrassment and he looked away, and the SOLDIER couldn't stop his small frown when he saw the bruise darkening part of the boy's face.
Bullies? He shot a glance at the other kids.
"And Strife," said the mayor with a distinctly cool tone, "I don't want to hear about you getting into any more trouble, understood?"
"Yes, sir," the boy ('Strife,' what a great name for someone so short) muttered. A swift little movement and he freed himself from Zack's distracted grip, watching with wary sidelong looks from under his hair.
Zack's eyes narrowed.
"You all run along now," Lockhart told them firmly, and immediately they scattered. Strife kept glancing back over his shoulder before he got swallowed by the shifting crowd of villagers.
"That Strife kid looks interesting," Zack commented casually as he and the mayor continued walking. Lockhart's lips thinned.
"Appearances aren't always what they seem, Lieutenant Fair. If I were you, I'd steer clear of the Strife family."
"Why?"
"Just better to be safe than sorry. We take care of our own up here, and while I certainly appreciate your offer of help, we have the monster problem under control."
...
Cursing himself under his breath, Cloud tore through Nibelheim towards the mountains. If he could get away from the houses and into the snow and rocky crags – if he hadn't been staring at the damn SOLDIER like a fucking child…
A stone hit his shoulder with enough force from behind to knock him off balance, sending him tumbling to the ground. In the narrow space between buildings, where he was cornered and out of sight from the rest of the village, Cloud was in the most danger.
"Pretty sad for a monster, ain't he," said one of the boys, named Bruns. The others sniggered.
"I hear him and his mum go howling at the full moon," jeered Gunter.
"And go dancing naked!" hollered Isaak gleefully.
"Nah, that's witches, stupid," snorted Bruns, beginning an argument of who was or wasn't right. Cloud had already shut his ears to them; he'd heard it all for years and developed a sort of numbness to it, like a poison. Instead he tensed, caught between the boys in front of him and a stone wall behind with houses on either side, and snarled, all white teeth and flashing eyes.
The others took a step back, but their sneers only widened. The one that had thrown the rock picked up another and hefted it easily, as though testing a fine weapon rather than a dirty clod.
"Seems to me we shouldn't let monsters go without being punished," said Bruns, and the first rock caught Cloud on the arm. He managed to duck the second but the third struck him hard in the ribs, yanking a muted whimper from his throat.
Just when he finally got his legs under him, haunches tensing for a desperate bid for freedom, one of the boys yelled out loudly as a large hand from seemingly nowhere fisted in his shirt.
"Quiet, brat," snapped the SOLDIER, hoisting Isaak into the air as easily as a kid does a rag doll. "One more word from you and I'll throw you off these mountains, got it?"
There was a pathetic whine of fear that the SOLDIER apparently took as an affirmative.
"Either of you," and he pointed at the others with that blade large enough to stagger three normal men, "want to tell me what the fuck is going on here?"
"W-we're just playing-like," stuttered Gunter. Despite his own awe of the tall fighter, Cloud couldn't help a small sneer at the other boy's sudden cowardice.
"Playing, huh?" The SOLDIER unceremoniously dumped Isaak on the ground and gave his blade a little twirl that made them turn a more sickly shade of pale. His grin was more dangerous than a dragon's. "In that case, I think I'll join you. Don't get much time for playing with ShinRa riding your back, you know what I mean?"
"I-I think my mum's calling," Bruns gasped as Gunter pulled Isaak upright, and the three edged around the SOLDIER and fled as though their heels were on fire.
The SOLDIER watched them leave with an inscrutable expression, but it quickly turned into a frown when he realized Cloud was trying to follow them. Throwing out an arm, he blocked the alley.
"Hey, kid, where're you going?"
Cloud didn't answer. The SOLDIER smelled like blood and mako and strength, with none of the sickness in his mother or the weakness in himself…and it hurt to know that his dream was just that, a silly little boy's dream, but have it still standing just in front of him. Just out of reach.
"You all right?" the SOLDIER asked in a quieter voice, more gently than anyone might have believed possible of a ShinRa employee. Cloud reflexively winced at it, waiting for the jeers, the mockery. He kept his eyes down on the SOLDIER's worn, muddied boots, watching for the shifting of weight that would let him slip past.
"I'm Zack," continued the stranger, and why wasn't he shutting up? "I got separated from my squad – "
"Bullshit," Cloud retorted without thinking, glaring up through spiky bangs, nostrils instinctively flaring to take in scent. "You haven't been around anyone for at least a month – "
Then his brain caught up with his mouth and he shut up fast enough to make his teeth click. Moron, he yelled at himself, talking that way to a SOLDIER just because he's also…
Stop it. Don't think about it, you'll make yourself crazier than you already are.
But instead of planting a fist in his face, the SOLDIER (Fair, he told himself, not even considering taking the privilege of using the man's first name) only smiled more widely.
"No need to ask why those little sons of bitches were after you." A frown once more replaced his smile, making Cloud wonder if he'd ever met someone who was so free with his expressions before. "Why – "
Then Cloud saw that minute weight shift, and he darted forward under Fair's arm towards the street. But the man was a SOLDIER, not some backwater, bullying adolescent, he no doubt could have caught Cloud if he wanted to…
But he didn't. Without bothering to ask why, the blond smoothly caught his balance on the unpaved road and took off for his mother's cottage.
...
Zack didn't see the kid again for several days. When he did, it was early morning and still freezing cold with the remnants of winter. Now, he was never one for mornings, especially when it was guaranteed to piss someone off (namely, Sephiroth) but living on his own for several weeks in the wilderness had gotten him into the habit of long days with little sleep. Besides, after deciding to stay in Nibelheim for a week or two until he figured out what he was going to do next, Zack had discovered that most of the interesting things tended to happen before mid-morning.
The day he saw Strife again, Zack was leaning against a stall and chatting with the smith's wife, Brunhild. She was a tall, stocky woman with a certain way of seeing the world that both charmed and amused him.
"I told Ertsa that she was a right gossip and it was little wonder that the other good women in this town hold no regard for her ways. I made it quite clear to her that the way to a man's heart is not through nattering in his ear, but the hussy is still convinced that she's the woman you've been searching for your whole life."
Zack laughed and winked. "Milady, if you weren't already taken by a man as honorable as your husband, I'd spirit you away to the city with me!"
"Don't you be turning that charm of yours on me, young man," the woman sniffed, smacking him lightly on the arm with her basket. "I've seen your kind. A heartbreaker, Mr Fair, that's what you are."
"Oh, milady, you wound me!" he swooned dramatically, earning another light smack. He opened his mouth to continue, but a minor scuffle near the stall caught his attention.
"Don't get smart with me, boy," the storekeeper hissed at a familiarly blond, spiky-headed teen. "A hundred gil for the lot, and be grateful for it."
"Excuse me, milady," Zack murmured absently to the middle-aged woman beside him, and strode up to the other shop with casual confidence. "Hey, Strife, I've been looking all over for you!" he called out cheerfully, choking back a laugh when it looked like Strife was going to leap out of his own skin with surprise. "You promised two days ago to show me some of the trails. Oh, is there a problem here?"
Looking between the kid and the shopkeeper with a politely puzzled expression, he let his arm drape itself companionably around thin shoulders. Strife was unnaturally still beneath his touch.
"No," the shopkeeper said helplessly, shooting small glares at the blond.
"Great! So whaddaya say, kiddo, ready for those trails yet? Here, I'll handle this," he dropped a handful of coins on the shop's outdoor counter, "and we can stop by the inn to pick up a couple lunches to take with us. Sound good?"
As he spoke, he was gently steering Strife away from the shop and down towards the inn, noting and promptly ignoring the scrutinizing look from Brunhild. Other villagers shot them odd looks as they passed, causing the boy to pull his shopping basket closer to his chest protectively. It seemed that he was curling in on himself, trying to hide in plain sight, and after the scene with those three idiotic bullies Zack thought he had a good idea why.
It made a tight knot of anger form in his heart.
The innkeeper was, as usual, snoozing soundly behind the check-in desk. Zack prodded the blond into the tiny dining room, ducking his head into the kitchen as they passed and calling out, "Hey, Mrs Haussler, you got any of that awesome rabbit stew left over from last night?"
"Growing boys are bottomless pits, Zack!" the innkeeper's wife yelled back. It sounded like she had her head stuck into the dishwasher, muffling her words.
"Two bowls, Mrs Haussler, thanks!"
Strife didn't say a word during this exchange, though his stomach did. He flushed when his belly rumbled, finally managing to duck out from under Zack's hand before he could be pushed into a chair.
"What are you doing?" he demanded, keeping his voice down to a low hiss. As Zack took a chair for himself, he could practically see the fur of the boy's scruff standing on end.
"Waiting for food. All that housewife gossip's made me hungry as a wolf, and Mrs Haussler makes one kick-ass rabbit stew."
Strife went very still and quiet at the word 'wolf.' Then he finally, slowly, sank down into the rickety wooden chair across from the SOLDIER. His shopping basket was cradled between his bony knees, and he didn't raise his eyes from it as he murmured, "What do you want?"
Zack blinked. "Eh?"
"We're not rich," the boy continued in that same soft tone. "We don't have much land or anything, Mum and me. What do you want?"
He thought Zack was going to blackmail his family or something, especially when they were the same? Planet, he thought, what the fuck has this town done to him? "A first name might be nice," he said with a friendly smile. "Feels odd to go around calling you 'Strife' and 'that one cute kid with the bad temper.'"
Even with his head bowed, the sudden flush was obvious.
"It's Cloud, all right?" he growled, as though daring the older man to tease him about it. As if he'd mock such an adorable name, really.
"Cloud, huh? Nice to meet you properly. I'm Zack, but you already knew that. Oh, hey, heads up, kiddo. Food's here."
Mrs Haussler was a short, stout woman in a plain woolen dress and a spotless apron tied around her waist, and she was carrying two enormous ceramic bowls filled to the brim with thick stew. She was smiling until she saw Cloud, and then it wavered uncertainly, her eyes flickering to Zack.
"Awesome!" he cried emphatically, carefully taking the bowls from her hands without spilling. "I kind of tricked Cloud here into taking me through some of the trails around here, so this is my treat."
"I'll just put it on your tab," the goodwife told him, still glancing at the boy's bowed head. "Um, I don't know what he's told you – "
"This is perfect, Mrs Haussler, thanks!" he broke in smoothly, noting how the tension had flooded back into Cloud's thin shoulders. And after all his hard work to make him relax a little, too. Fortunately, she took the hint and disappeared without another word.
"You don't actually have to take me anywhere, you know," Zack said conversationally between loud slurping. The stew really was pretty damn good, he hadn't been exaggerating that part. "Planet knows I've seen enough of these mountains to last me a lifetime. Back in Gongaga, it was never this fucking cold, I don't think my balls have stopped shivering since I got here. Gives new meaning to 'blue balls,' yanno?"
"You don't have to do this, you know," the blond burst out suddenly. "This...pretending. I don't know what you're playing at, but just tell me and stop messing around."
Zack slowed his inhalation of food. The kid's head was still lowered and it was starting to bother him. "I'm not 'pretending' anything," he replied quietly, well aware that the innkeeper's wife was hovering near the door of the kitchen; he could hear her trying to be sneaky. "Anybody back in SOLDIER could tell you that I don't play with people like that. If someone was being harassed the way you always seem to be, I'd do the same thing.
"Besides," and he reached across the table to lightly poke him on the top of the head, "our kind's got to stick together, yeah? We've only got ourselves in this world, and trust me, it's a lot more fun to wreak chaos when you've got company."
Cloud finally lifted his face and looked Zack in the eye for the first time. Zack, still leaning across the table, had moved his hand to rest on the blond's shoulder, and for once the kid didn't try to twist away. There was still suspicion in those blue eyes, a reluctance to hope for anything, but as far as he was concerned it was also a start.
"Right," Cloud agreed softly, and gave a little half-smile that made a rather squishy part of Zack's brain coo at the sight.
...
"Hey, Spike!"
Cloud twitched violently, nearly dropping the armful of firewood he was carrying from the nearest part of the forest. He turned to find the SOLDIER running up to him with a silly expression, totally ignoring the looks they got from the few townspeople lingering around Nibelheim's outskirts.
"What?" he asked cautiously.
"I'm bored, so I thought I'd keep you company with my lovely self."
"You mean 'annoy,'" Cloud muttered, but the older man pretended not to hear.
"So, what're we doing today?"
The blond raised a brow with a significant look at the wood he was holding, as though to say 'isn't it obvious, or were you dropped on your head as a kid?'
"Um, does this involve using sharp, pointy tools? In which case I'm totally in, unless badgers or something conveniently cut this wood for us and we just have to pick it up. Which would be pretty awesome just on principle."
"…What?"
Zack put an arm behind his head and flashed the usual grin. "Never mind. Are we just going to end up burning this wood, or can we make something cool out of it?"
"…This is firewood."
"Right, right. So, just grab any kind of wood, or what?"
"Oak burns the longest, but pine's a good starter." Cloud caught the blank expression on Zack's face. "What?"
"Ah, nothing." The SOLDIER bent down to pick up a random branch and brandished it proudly. "Oak, right? Got it."
"Um, Mr Fair," Cloud started quietly, not wanting to anger him, "that's a piece of fir."
"Of course it is. I was just testing you. And call me Zack."
Giving him an odd look, Cloud bent down to pick up a few more branches, looking for ones without mold and that weren't too green or waterlogged. A sidelong glance showed the SOLDIER holding a piece of wood in each hand, one of them the fir branch, and looking at them closely as though trying to figure out the difference.
"That one's oak." Cloud pointed at the other branch timidly, keeping a fair distance between them. "It's good."
Zack sighed ruefully. "All right, kiddo, I'm listening. Teach the silly jungle boy what all these things are."
"Yessir. Uh, oak's good for heat – "
"How come? And call me Zack."
"What?"
"Why is oak better than, say, fir?" Zack waved the branches around like they were poorly-forged swords, forcing Cloud to duck to avoid being brained.
"Oak, it's…it's a hardwood. It's denser. Burns hotter and longer than softwoods. Like fir. Um, sir."
"That makes sense, I guess. And seriously, Spike, call me Zack. So, what's that poky-looking thing over there?"
He gestured at the line of trees that Cloud had just left towards a tall, spindly skeleton rattling eerily in the wind.
"Maple."
"How can you tell?"
"Most of the trees are evergreen. Maple's one of the few here that isn't." Cloud was definitely not looking at the SOLDIER, wondering what the point of all this was. If he was going to humiliate the blond in some way, he sure had a strange way of going about it.
"Hey, let's make a deal. I'll help you carry this firewood back if you show me what all this shrubbery can do, how's that sound?"
"Um."
"C'mon, kiddo, I'm not going to eat you. You're way too scrawny to taste very good, even with a bunch of garlic and stuff."
"Am not!" Cloud retorted, then clapped his hands over his mouth in horror at his disrespect. This meant that all the firewood he'd spent the morning gathering tumbled to the ground in a messy heap, and he had to bite his palm to keep from groaning in dismay.
Instead of being angry, however, the man just laughed. "It's a bargain then. C'mon, let's go hoof it around these trees, and I'll help you afterwards."
As if Cloud could refuse a SOLDIER anything. "…All right."
"Great!"
What Cloud never noticed as he pointed out the shapes and colors of leaves, the particular twists of branch growth and the occasional animal den, was the way Zack observed him. The SOLDIER wasn't blind to how Cloud seemed to relax the farther they got from Nibelheim, how he gradually stopped keeping a wary eye on Zack's whereabouts and paid more attention to the plants. It didn't even take as long as he'd thought to coax a smile from the kid, and having to lug back the firewood (complete with dramatic monologues of cruel and unusual punishment, much to Cloud's exasperation) was worth the effort at getting the reserved young wolf to laugh.
...
Cloud watched in shy amusement as Zack shook the snow from his fur with a grumble.
"I told you not to step in a drift."
The grumbling increased, and the mild glare he got might have intimidated him if he hadn't seen that note of humor in it. Snowflakes tipped the dark fur like a thin layer of sugar, dusting long whiskers and ear-tips, and Cloud quickly pretended that he was surveying the trail in front of them to hide his smile.
Which meant that he wasn't prepared for the sudden battle-cry from behind and the heavy weight that pinned him to the cold, wet ground.
"Zack!" he cried angrily, struggling back to his feet as the SOLDIER leapt lightly up the trail with a gleeful cackle. He couldn't feel the snow through the layers of his coat, but that wasn't the point. It was anyone's guess on why he'd allowed himself to be goaded into showing Zack the surrounding area outside the village, but then Zack looked back over his shoulder with eyes bright with laughter and mako and then Cloud remembered.
Zack was the same as he was. Well, not really, because Zack was everything Cloud would never be, but he was the same; he could hear the songs in the wind, too, and smell the sun, and feel the earth breathing beneath his feet. Cloud still wasn't convinced that there was no ulterior motive in this whole thing, but it was reassuring to know that if Zack decided to hate him, it would be because of who he was, not what.
"Stop decorating the view and come on, Spike!" the SOLDIER yelled. "I swear, you'd lose your head if it wasn't attached!"
"Shut up!" Cloud jumped up several ledges of rock to meet Zack's level, keeping his balance easily. "I thought you needed me to show you around."
"Nah, it's always more fun when you get lost. Then we'll have to share body heat," he quipped, and Cloud was thankful for his fur when he felt his face turn hot.
"Jerk," he muttered, pushing past the larger wolf. It was hard not to be acutely aware of the sheer power in those long limbs. Without the interfering stench from the villagers, the SOLDIER's scent of old blood and mako smelled stronger than ever underneath the earthy wolf musk.
Zack laughed quietly, but not meanly, and he followed without further harassment. Cloud kept his eyes forward, automatically spreading his toes so that his paws wouldn't sink too far into the snow, and led the way on an old deer track that wound along one of the Nibel peaks. Somewhere below them were the distant roar of a nesting dragon and the occasional call of a wild bird, and the wind snaking through the trees made eerie, ocean-like echoes that always managed to make Nibelheim feel like little more than a bad dream. Up here, where few humans dared to go, Cloud could pretend that he was an extension of the Planet, no more monstrous or strange or unwanted than any other creature.
So when Zack decided to speak up without warning, Cloud nearly put his face nose-first into a snow-bank.
"How long've you lived here?"
"The ShinRa mansion's down that way."
"Urgh, let's not go there. And don't think I didn't see that as the crappy subject change it was."
Examining the question carefully, Cloud couldn't find any traps in it. It wasn't like the SOLDIER couldn't just ask one of the villagers, really.
"I've always lived here."
"Really? Damn. Me and Ma and Pops, we traveled around a fair bit until they decided to settle in Gongaga. Not much bigger than Nibelheim, but a hell of a lot warmer and humid. And the Touch-Me frogs, annoying little buggers – "
"The what?" Cloud yipped in surprise, turning to stare at Zack, who bared his teeth in a huge wolfish grin.
"The Touch-Me's. They turn you into frogs like them. Drove Pops nuts, let me tell you."
"…Stop bullshitting me."
"No, seriously, they do!"
Cloud narrowed his eyes, not believing for a moment that Zack was serious. He wasn't sure if he was being teased good-naturedly, almost like a friend, or not. In the end, he just turned back around and continued climbing up the trail.
"Hey, Cloud," he heard Zack say tentatively, "I was just kidding! Well, no, I wasn't, Touch-Me's really do exist, but I mean I was just kidding – "
Then he stopped. The trail dropped off rather suddenly into empty space and the younger wolf had sat down near the ledge overlooking the entire Nibel valley, looking entirely unperturbed to be sitting so close to several thousand feet of empty space.
"…Whoa," Zack breathed, coming to stand at the other's shoulder. The Nibel mountain range had been formed of ancient volcanoes, leaving summits of dark basalt rock thrusting high into the atmosphere, and the end of winter meant that the snowy caps were feeding the creeks and turning them into raging rivers. The crashing of waterfalls resounded clearly through the sharp air and a thin layer of wispy cloud hung low in the valley below, giving them the feeling of standing in the sky itself.
"It's beautiful," he murmured in Cloud's ear, and the blond smiled to himself, secretly proud that he could show a SOLDIER something he'd never seen before. The dizzying heights didn't bother him. He'd come up here often since he was old enough to sneak out alone, to get away from the judgment of the village and his mother's illness, and if he half-closed his eyes he could almost feel like he was one of the mountain hawks circling the sprawling forests, free to go wherever the winds blew.
This was also the place where the longing in his heart was the strongest, like an invisible string tied around his heart and leading off to some distant, unknowable point. It was the same longing that had caused his mother's sickness, so he kept it carefully tucked away in a far corner of his mind where it could only come out in dreams.
"Ack! What are you doing?" he cried. Zack had lain down next to him, pressed against his side and thumping his tail happily against Cloud's.
"Enjoying the view," came the mischievous answer. "Why're you so jumpy, anyway? It's not like I'm gonna push you off."
Cloud didn't say anything. Zack tilted his head to look up at him with one eye.
"Have you been pushed off?"
"Of course not," he said quickly. "Don't be stupid, no one would survive a fall from this height."
"…I didn't necessarily mean from here."
Edging away from the other's warmth, he snapped, "Look, I showed you some of the trails. I'm sure you can find the way back yourself." But when he made to stand (he was not running) he was knocked down to the ground for the second time by the same solid weight. Instinctively he went still, exposing his throat, but Zack was hardly paying attention to such little details.
"Why do you stay here?" the SOLDIER asked quietly, his chest rumbling. "The villagers hate our kind. They wouldn't be half so nice to me if they knew that I wasn't human."
"Get off me."
"We're wolves, Cloud," Zack pressed, "not monsters or punching bags or…or whatever else people come up with, especially stupid redneck idiots."
"Yeah? What's the difference, then?" Before either really knew what was happening, Cloud had turned under Zack so that he could glare upwards furiously, feeling his lips curl back from sharp teeth. "The only reason you can say that is because you're SOLDIER. People can't hurt you, if they even wanted to! As far as the villagers are concerned, I'm just – "
He stopped and looked away, humiliated by his outburst, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Here a person as friendly and open as Zack was wasting him time with him, and all Cloud did was bitch about things like a teenaged girl as though it might change something. It was remarkably stupid of him, since he'd learned a long time ago that reality didn't favor the weak. He should be grateful that he'd gotten a chance at all to see a glimpse of his secret ambition, and that for the first time he'd met someone like himself and his mum. Maybe Cloud would never amount to anything, but…at least he knew it was possible for some people. That being a wolf wasn't always synonymous with monstrousness.
(That still didn't stop him from wishing that he had a dark hole to crawl into somewhere to hide from the rest of the world.)
A gentle lick across his nose made him twitch suddenly. Firm but careful nudging had him on his belly, front paws before him, and Zack pressed against him once more so that they were lying side-by-side from forelimb to haunches.
"Don't listen to them, Cloud," he murmured, rubbing their faces together and tickling the whiskers at the end of Cloud's muzzle. "We can see things that humans could never dream of. And with me to watch your back, there won't be any pushing anymore."
"…I told you I wasn't ever pushed off here," but Cloud knew that wasn't what Zack meant, and he couldn't help leaning ever so slightly against the reassuring weight at his side.
Wolves are social creatures. Just as human infants will die without a mother's touch, or as surely as heartbreak can kill someone, a wolf won't last long on its own; and though Cloud loved his mother, loved her dearly, he couldn't remember the last time she'd really seen him and touched him. The warmth that Zack was offering felt like some kind of forbidden gift or privilege, something to savor before it was taken away.
"Zack, why are you here, really?"
He half-expected a joke to change the subject or another bullshit line about getting separated from a squad that didn't exist, but after a pause Zack sighed.
"You're the kind of guy to ask the really hard questions, aren't you?" he muttered ruefully. Cloud wanted to apologize, but figured it was better not to interrupt. "You know I'm a SOLDIER. Well, some people who shouldn't know figured out that I was a bit more than just a human lackey, and if I hadn't run with my tail between my legs my head would probably be decorating some asshole's office. With my luck, it'd probably be Heidegger's."
The last part was added in a cynical tone that didn't sound right coming from Zack. Cloud wished he had more experience in knowing the right things to say to make people feel better, but he usually just made situations worse. Instead he tucked his nose under the other's chin and made a soft whine of sympathy.
"Nah, don't worry, kiddo," Zack grinned, thumping his tail again. "Gave me the chance to see the world instead of the inside of an office."
Cloud returned the smile with a small, wary one of his own.
...
The apparent friendship budding between the popular SOLDIER and the decidedly unpopular Strife boy didn't go unnoticed by the villagers.
"It's their enchanting," Ertsa whispered to anyone that would listen. "You know how those animals can look just like one of us. The boy's ensorcelled Mr Fair, you mark my words."
"There won't be no marking of any words here, Ertsa," Brunhild said briskly. "You're just sour because that man has the good sense to know a bad apple when he sees one."
The other women hid their smiles as Ertsa flushed in humiliation. Her attempts to woo the SOLDIER, and her subsequent failures, were well known and gossiped about.
"And wolf or not, you let the boy be," Brunhild continued, this time making sure to meet the eyes of everyone present. "He ain't done no harm to any of you except take care of his poor mother."
"Nay, you'd let him be until he killed one of our own," snapped one of the women. "What if your good graces got your eldest a broken neck?"
"Strife ain't done no crime, Gretchen. Keeping an eye on him's one thing, but the bullying that your Bruns be doing is just wrong."
The woman opened her mouth to furiously defend her son, but Brunhild was quite done with the silliness of the other woman and turned on her heel to stalk away.
"You should've been a SOLDIER, milady," said an awed voice, making her jump.
"Mr Zackary Fair, you fair well gave me a heart attack!" she cried, glaring at the grinning swordsman. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that!"
"Sorry, milady, but I was enjoying listening to you ripping those people a new one."
Huffing, Brunhild continued walking purposefully down the one main street of the village, neatly sidestepping the deeper mud puddles, as Zack fell into step alongside her. "You watch your tongue, young man, I won't hear of such nasty words."
"Seriously, though, if you were at ShinRa during my recruit days, you'd have given us all a run for our money!"
"I certainly hope so. I won't have my tax dollars going to men that can't stand up for themselves." But the twitching of her lips gave away the amusement behind her stern words, and Zack laughed brightly.
"Yes, ma'am!" he saluted sharply without breaking stride.
"So, what has our esteemed Mr Lockhart been having you do?" she asked, pausing by a shop to look through the window at the freshly baked pastries. She did so love a fresh berry pastry.
"Oh, you know, the usual," the young man shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets in his characteristic slouch. He was a tall, lanky boy that radiated the sort of confidence that women like Ertsa found irresistible, and even the older ones like Brunhild weren't completely immune to that rakish charm. "There was an issue with one of the dragons getting a bit too close to one of the winter orchards, so I got to scare it off with my big manly muscles and kickass sword. Er. I mean, butt-kicking sword."
She hummed in mixed humor and acknowledgment.
"Tomorrow he said something about helping to fix one of the roofs. I guess the poor guy didn't do the thatch correctly or whatever and it got all rotted, but seriously, what do I know about thatch? We slept in our skivvies where I'm from, it was so hot. I look at half the stuff you guys do here and I'm already lost."
"You poor child. Imagine, learning something new."
Zack laughed again. "Oh, my young brain! I think it'll break soon."
"Assuming there's anything there to be broken," Brunhild chided him, tugging lightly on a lock of dark hair before moving down the street again. She decided she could wait until later for that pastry. "But really, Zackary, what are you doing with the Strife boy? I'm sure Ertsa took it upon herself to tell you what he is."
"What, a wolf?" he said casually, and looked her in the eye. "So what?"
"Most would find that good enough reason not to have nothing to do with him."
"Good thing I'm not most people." He raised a brow. "And you?"
"I ain't too fond of wolves," she told him bluntly, "but the boy's done nothing. He and his mum keep to themselves, not that I blame them, and leave our business to our own. So long as they don't harm me or mine, what abuse do they deserve?"
"I can't imagine you're too popular here," he said dryly, and she couldn't stop a chuckle.
"I grew up in these parts, Zackary, but my pa came from the city. He always told me that it takes many kinds to make a world, and it don't do no one any good to go round judging people for being different when those differences might save your life."
"Practical."
"Aye, and something that biddies like Ertsa ain't ever gonna learn. Here now, Zackary, you carry these and I'll make you some lunch. My husband will be in the smithy all day, so there won't be no metal-smoke to flavor my biscuits."
She dumped a bag of fresh loaves into his arms and picked up her shopping basket again, weaving through the other villagers towards her cottage.
"Watch your step there. Now, I know the Strifes better than most, but that still ain't saying much," she told him. "What I hear is that one day Missus Strife come staggering into town, starved and half-frozen. Our healer at the time took her in, didn't take long to realize that she was a wolf and not just someone's lost dog. Most of the men here wanted her put down, didn't want no wolf anywhere near the village, especially a pregnant one. Instead they let her live on the edge in the old cottage left abandoned when Haussler's old gramps died."
As she spoke, she opened the door to her home (Zack had noticed that there were no locks on any doors in Nibelheim) and beckoned him inside. It had only two rooms, a small part sectioned off for her and husband's bedroom and the rest of the house for everything else, from cooking to eating to sitting. He set the bags in his arms on the scrubbed wooden table and moved to help her wash the vegetables.
"Where was I? Ah, well, a few months later, Missus Strife gave birth to little Cloud. I'd heard wolves could have several pups at a time, but maybe it was the cold, maybe it was just that she was too weak, but he was the only one. Sickly little thing he was, too. Midwife said it was a miracle he lived past infancy."
"What about the father?" Zack asked.
Brunhild shrugged. "Never knew who he was. Missus Strife ain't never breathed a word about him. Most reckon he just ran off, but personally I think whatever hurt her must've gotten to him, too, only he didn't make it."
Zack could imagine. He'd had a few close calls with wolf-hunters himself.
"I have to admit, though, I pity the boy. Missus Strife never was quite right in the head after the birth, never fully got her strength back. Little Cloud's been taking care of her the best he can, but he's only fifteen, sixteen years old. Life here ain't easy, and to do the work of two people before you're even grown…well. You have to admire his determination, regardless of what he is."
She quickly noticed that the SOLDIER was quieter than usual, almost contemplative, as he helped her in the kitchen. "Here now, Zackary, what're you thinking?"
He didn't answer at first, clearly considering what to say, but then he just flashed her that grin of his that was already becoming famous. "I'm not sure, Mrs Aldrick. I'll let you know when I do."
"Don't think that fake cheer is going to fool me, Zackary," she said sternly, "I wasn't born yesterday."
"Yes, ma'am," he replied meekly.
Without turning around, she added, "You know, I always did reckon that Cloud Strife might want to see the world. Learn more than just how to fix a thatch roof. Maybe find out where his parents came from."
There was a long silence from behind her, and then a thoughtful, "You know, milady, I think I know what you mean."
Good. For all the propaganda that ShinRa spouted, she knew that at least one SOLDIER had to have some sense.
...
Cloud had agreed to meet him here at the inn so that they could go hiking up in the mountains again. Mayor Lockhart had told Zack that a monster was plaguing the reactor up there, and the SOLDIER had promised Cloud that he could come and help out. Might be good to give the kid some experience. Assuming the blond ever showed up.
After ten minutes had passed from their appointed meeting time (patience was never known to be one of his virtues) Zack decided to hell with waiting and went looking for Cloud himself. It wasn't like Nibelheim was very large, after all, and with his heightened olfactory sense, it shouldn't be too difficult to figure out which house belonged to the small Strife family. With his sword strapped to his back, Zack waved cheerily to the villagers and called out greetings without stopping to talk, heading towards the edge of the town closest to the mountains.
As he thought, it wasn't hard to pick out the scent of nearby wolves from beneath the human smells, and he followed it to a tiny, rundown cottage set on the very end of the muddy road. The thatch could do with a bit of work and dormant vines of ivy had curled around the stone walls, but a thin wisp of blue smoke rose from the chimney and a warm yellow light through one of the windows made it look more inviting, especially against the grey backdrop of overcast sky and shadowed mountains.
He rapped smartly against the weathered door. "Hey, Cloud, you in there?"
There was no reply, but he felt his ears twitch. No human would have been able to hear it through the thick stone and muffling snow, but there was the sound of a dish breaking and a panicked voice. Without pausing to consider it, Zack immediately opened the door and rushed inside, half-formed thoughts of Cloud and his mother being attacked by bullies in their own home flitting through his mind.
What he found was Cloud standing in the kitchen with a broken plate on the flagstones by his feet and eyes wide with horror.
"Cloud! Cloud, what's wrong?" Zack demanded, grabbing the younger man by the shoulders.
"Zack, it's Mum, she's gone!" the blond gasped breathlessly. "I wanted to make sure she'd be all right while we were gone but she wasn't here and I accidentally broke the plate because I freaked and I'm sorry but she's not here—"
"Whoa, whoa, breathe before you pass out, kiddo," Zack said calmly. "Okay, your mom's not here, so…maybe she went grocery shopping?"
"No, she didn't fucking go grocery shopping, she can barely remember what day it is!" Cloud shrieked. "And it's not like she's got anyone to talk to except me, and – "
"Cloud, calm down," the SOLDIER barked. "You won't help her if you're panicking. Now, think, has she wandered off before?"
"Not for a while, she – oh gods, Zack, the mountains! She's probably taken one of the trails, last time she went to the mako cave and nearly froze – "
"So we'll go to the mako cave first," not that Zack had any idea where it was, of course, "and see if we can't find her tracks. C'mon, Spike, let's do this."
For the first time Cloud seemed to focus on Zack, as though just realizing that he was there. "Wait, you're…you're going to help me?"
Zack blinked. "Of course, why wouldn't I?"
"I…"
"Look, Cloud, we'll talk about this later. Let's go find your mom first, all right?"
"…Right."
Being on the farthest border of the town meant that no one saw two wolves, one pitch black and the other a tawny gold, go streaking up the pass that led towards the reactor. Fur and muscle rippled with the speed of their flight, paws digging deep into the snow to push forward faster and harder. The cold nipped at their noses and eyes but they ignored it, straining to catch any smell or sound that would tell them where Cloud's mother had gone. Cloud himself was trying and failing not to think of everything that could have possibly gone wrong: tall cliffs, sharp rocks, freezing rivers, the dragons and monsters that ruled the wilderness here.
Zack, meanwhile, was having issues of his own, remembering soldiers that had gotten lost while in the unfamiliar territory of Wutai and been recovered too late, their bodies half-eaten by strange beasts or shot full of shuriken. He didn't want Cloud to have to see the corpse of his only family member because they didn't find her in time.
It was no doubt the extra edge of mako that allowed Zack to catch her scent first.
"Cloud, she's around here somewhere!" he called, and heard Cloud howling, "Mum! Mum!"
Running over stone and snow was making his paws ache – he couldn't imagine how Cloud must be feeling – but he pushed on, ducking tree branches and rocky outcroppings. Then he took a sharp turn and nearly lost all the breath in his lungs.
"Mum!" Cloud howled again, throwing himself forward and catching his mother just a body-length from the edge of a cliff. "Oh Hel, Mum…"
Missus Strife was a thin bitch with the same pale fur and sky-blue eyes as her son, only they appeared clouded and unfocused. When Cloud knocked her to the ground, she let out a long, piteous keen that nearly broke Zack's heart.
"Mum, let's go back home, please, it's warm and…please, I don't want to be out here…"
She whimpered again, struggling weakly against Cloud's weight. She was so bony that her claws stood out sharply from the fur of her paws. "The Promised Land, Cloud," she whispered, "it's just over there, we can go now – "
The only thing nearby was the cliff, dropping a thousand feet to a ledge of rock. Zack felt sick.
"No, Mum," Cloud begged through the tears choking up his voice, "no, it's not. You're just hearing things again."
"Cloud – "
"Mum, please! Please, let's go home," he whispered, and she keened again, sounding so lost and confused and broken that it took all of Zack's self-control not to start howling alongside her in despair.
"Hey, Missus Strife, let's go find a fire and a warm meal," he said gently, nuzzling the soft fur of her throat. "I promise it'll be better than lying out here in the cold."
"The Promised Land," she murmured in a shattered voice, "the…the Promised…"
Cloud swallowed his tears, picked himself up, and with Zack's help they managed to get her to start moving back down the pass. She stumbled every few steps, still keeping up a monologue of vague whispers, but Cloud shut his ears to it and kept close to her side so she wouldn't fall.
It took much longer on the return journey, but eventually they managed to get her back to the road and into the Strife cottage. While Cloud led her to the small bedroom partitioned from the rest of the house, Zack busied himself with cleaning up the broken pottery on the floor. It would take more than a broom to clean up the remaining shards of Missus Strife, he thought sadly.
When Cloud brought his mother back out, her face had been washed and the soaked nightgown she'd disappeared in replaced with a simple, but clean, smock dress. She stared at Zack uncomprehendingly through the damp strands of yellow hair framing her face.
"Um, Zack, this is my mum, Elfreda. Mum, this is Zack," Cloud said quietly, doing a frighteningly good job at covering up the roughness of his voice. "He's a…a friend from the village."
Missus Strife smiled absently at the SOLDIER. "That's nice, dear. You don't bring very many friends home. It's lovely to meet you, Zack."
"Uh, yeah, you too," he answered, smiling back on reflex and wondering if this woman had split personalities or something. Cloud was standing at his mother's shoulder and watching him with anxious, humiliated eyes, and suddenly Zack's smile felt more real and gentle. "You have a beautiful home, Missus Strife. After living in the barracks for so long you forget what a real house looks like."
"Oh? Are you a SOLDIER, then?" she asked pleasantly, moving to the kitchen and started to wash the half-finished dishes. Because there was already soapy water in the stone sink, she must have walked off right in the middle of doing them, but she didn't seem to notice anything odd. "Cloud's wanted to be a SOLDIER since he first learned how to read the newspaper."
Cloud flushed, looking away, as Zack glanced at him in surprise. He'd noticed the sidelong glances of course, but he'd just chalked it up to the usual awed reaction people had at seeing a real SOLDIER. He'd had no idea that Cloud seriously wanted to be one.
"Yep, a hero through and through, saving damsels in distress one lady at a time!" Zack grinned cheekily, striking a silly pose. Though Missus Strife's laugh was brittle, at least it was sincere, and Zack never minded a little embarrassment if it made people's days a bit happier.
"Why don't you boys go outside for a while I make us something to eat," she said.
"Will…will you be all right, Mum?" Cloud spoke up for the first time, looking timid.
"Of course, dear, I won't be attacked by monsters in my own home. Now shoo and let me make something."
"Yes, Mum," he said obediently, grabbing Zack's sleeve and pulling him out of the cottage. As soon as the door closed, he sat down hard on the front step and buried his face in his hands. Without thinking, Zack sat down beside him and slung an arm around Cloud's shoulders.
"Please just go away," said the blond's muffled voice.
"Why?"
Cloud didn't answer, and really, he didn't need to. But leaving Cloud by himself probably wasn't the brightest idea at the moment.
"You know, I once knew this guy that – "
"Zack, stop," Cloud muttered tiredly. "Just…stop."
He did, but he didn't take his arm from Cloud's shoulders, and he watched the slow changing of the grey storm-clouds overhead. The usual sounds of a town working to repair itself after a long winter drifted in their direction, muted by distance and atmosphere.
"She wasn't always this bad," Cloud whispered after a while, staring blankly ahead. The way he wrapped his arms around his knees and hugged them made him look half his age. "When I was little, she'd stop and just…space out for a little bit, you know? But lately it's been getting worse. She has nightmares more often. Doesn't sleep much. And…well, you saw her."
"Has she ever told you about the Promised Land?" he asked kindly.
"When she used to tuck me in bed at night." He blushed at admitting to something like that, but Zack didn't laugh. "She'd tell me stories about it. About how it was supposed to be a paradise, where the moon was always full and the sun was warm. About how no one would hunt us or hurt us anymore. You could run and run but never find the end because your heart was the only limit."
He trailed off wistfully. Zack could feel how the words tugged at his own heart, reaching for the nameless longing that had first inspired him to leave his family in Gongaga.
Then in a suddenly flat voice, Cloud finished, "But she stopped, eventually. She started spacing out more and more, sometimes disappearing when I wasn't around. She doesn't listen when I tell her it doesn't exist, and I'm afraid one day I'll come back and…and she won't be…"
Tightening the arm he had around Cloud's shoulders, Zack pulled him closer and said very seriously, "The Promised Land does exist, Cloud."
The blond jerked against him, eyes flickering to him with painfully obvious hurt and fury. "Fuck you, Zack."
"I'm serious. I wouldn't fuck with you about this."
"Damn it, Zack, this isn't funny – "
Cloud fought to free himself, trying to squirm away, but Zack easily held him in a semblance of a hug to keep him still.
"I know you feel it, Cloud," he said into the blond's ear. "All us wolves do. It's what we're all looking for. You know there's something better out there, you just don't where to find it, or how."
The blond stared up at him with wide eyes, hardly daring to believe that the silent ache in his chest wasn't just him losing his mind to the same madness that gripped his mother.
"And I…I don't know how to find it either," Zack admitted. "But that doesn't make your mom crazy. Or the rest of us."
"Then what do I do?" Cloud pleaded, trying to hold back the tears. "Is it because I'm too stupid or something?"
Gods, he and Sephiroth are so much alike it's scary. "You're not stupid, Cloud, got it? You're not weak, and you're definitely not a monster. None of this is your fault."
"Then why can't I make her better?"
With Cloud's face pressed against his collarbone, Zack heard it as a threadlike exhalation, as though the boy just couldn't find the strength to be angry anymore.
And he's still just a kid.
"I guess because life just sucks that way."
"…Yeah," Cloud finally sighed against him. "I know."
...
What Zack and Cloud didn't realize was that in their mad dash to find Elfreda Strife, someone had seen them, and that someone just happened to be the mayor's daughter. It wasn't because Tifa thought the SOLDIER was cute that she was following him, she wasn't like the other village girls, the ones that giggled behind their hands and dreamed only of marrying well. Besides, Mr Fair would never look at any mere country girl 'like that' anyway. Then again, why shouldn't he? Tifa was smart and pretty and a good fighter in her own right, what did a city girl offer that she couldn't?
Not that she was looking to marry or anything. She was only seventeen, for the Planet's sake, she at least wanted to live a little first. See more than the same people and houses everyday. And the SOLDIER offered a way out. If she got him to agree to take her with him whenever his squad showed up…
Knowing her father had asked him to take care of some monsters up at the reactor, Tifa watched the man from her second-story window, where she had a good view of most of the village. Zack was easy to pick out in his ShinRa charcoals and confident stride, and she decided to wait until he reached the outskirts of the town before running to talk to him without all those gossiping old ladies staring at them. Strangely enough, however, he didn't continue up the path but turned towards the Strife cottage, where he paused at the door before suddenly throwing it open and rushing inside.
Had something bad happened? Pulling on her gloves, Tifa dashed from her room and down the stairs, thanking fate that her father was over at the tanner's at the moment, and ran across the street towards the last little house. She wasn't exactly friends with Cloud, but still, if something had happened to him or his mother, it was only right that she help.
Before she could get halfway there, the door banged open again and two (two?) wolves streaked towards the trail that led up into the mountains. With a thrill of terror she recognized the light brown one as Cloud, but the other was as black as stone and unfamiliar; it certainly wasn't Missus Strife, but the only other person she'd seen enter the cottage was –
She froze in her tracks, feeling sick. She'd heard some of the villagers wondering why a high-ranking SOLDIER would waste his time with a nobody like Cloud Strife, and there'd been one or two whispers of lewd possibilities that most people didn't believe, but if Zack Fair were also a wolf…
Monsters, her mind screamed, but her feet were already moving to follow the two beasts, her heart pounding with adrenaline. Their tracks were easily visible in the snow, wide spacing between deep prints showing the speed and desperation with which they traveled, and her lungs started to burn as she leapt over boulders and squeezed through narrow passes. Eventually she was forced to stop when the tracks turned up an outcropping that no human could hope to climb without proper equipment, not even one trained personally by Master Zangan.
For a moment Tifa was desperately jealous. Wolves were faster, stronger, and more agile than any two-legged animal could even dream of.
Because they're predators, she reminded herself firmly. Now think. You know these mountains better than anyone else in the village. Usually because she was forever running from her father's overbearing presence.
The bridge!
Tifa hurriedly backtracked several hundred meters, then took another, more well-worn path towards the rope bridge that crossed a deep chasm in the rock. She'd only been across it once or twice before, and time hadn't been kind to it. She was very aware of how loudly the first board creaked beneath her feet.
But she pushed on gamely, determined to figure out what was going on (oh gods, the SOLDIER's a wolf!) despite her fear. The ropes groaned under her hands, the boards protested, and even the wind wailed through the dark chasm that she fervently pretended wasn't under her feet. Only planks of wood kept her from falling into heart-stopping emptiness.
A wild howl rose over the wind, not a dragon's but a wolf's, high and piercing and so incredibly lost; not the sound of a predator but a wounded animal, alone and despairing, and through the chill in her blood Tifa felt a pang of sympathy.
Unfortunately she paused too long on a board and, under her weight, the old wood snapped.
Oh –
Too shocked to react, Tifa's fingers missed the ropes by a hair's breadth and slipped through. The wind stole the air from her lungs, leaving her unable to scream as she fell.
...
Apparently forgetting that anything out of the ordinary had happened, Missus Strife served a hot dinner of potatoes and rather stringy chicken to Cloud and his 'handsome new SOLDIER friend.'
"Thanks, ma'am," Zack chirped sincerely, "this is excellent!"
"Nothing does a body better than a home-cooked meal," the woman replied, smiling at him absently. "Are you all right, Cloud? You've hardly touched your food."
"I'm fine, Mum, just a bit tired." He pasted on a cheerful expression that didn't fool Zack for a second but which seemed to satisfy his mother. "We went up into the mountains today to – to find something, that's all."
"I hope you were careful, dear, those rocks can treacherous. More potatoes, Mr Fair?"
"No, thank you, I'm stuffed. And please, call me Zack. It makes me feel like my old man when someone calls me that."
Both helped her clear the table and clean up afterwards, and then she retreated to the small bedroom complaining of a migraine. Cloud was left standing awkwardly in front of Zack, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
"Um. Thank you," he muttered, looking everywhere but in the SOLDIER's eyes. "For helping me with…with Mum. And, er, that one day when Bruns…um."
Zack grinned and ruffled Cloud's hair with a large, calloused hand. "Don't worry about it, kiddo. I'm pretty low maintenance, no thanks necessary."
Cloud ducked away from the ruffling hand with a fake scowl. "Jerk."
"Oh, my brave and youthful heart!" Zack swooned, throwing his arms around Cloud as he tumbled onto the pile of blankets that served as the blond's bed. "Such barbed words to curdle the blood, to…uh. Hrm What rhymes with 'blood'? 'Flood'? 'Cud'? Ew."
"Idiot!" Cloud gasped out, torn between annoyance and laughter, and Zack loosened his grip just enough to let him breathe. The blond's torso was lying on top of his own, making it rather hard for Zack to resist burying his face in soft, spiky, sunshine-yellow hair.
"…Zack?"
"I'm a tactile person. Used to drive a good friend of mine nuts. Stop complaining."
Cloud was not blushing, damn it.
Really.
He shifted around until he and Zack were face-to-face, lying on their sides on the sheepskins and woolen blankets that were his mattress. The older man was still smiling, as usual, but it had softened to something that Cloud wished he could keep.
"Do you think…one day…maybe, we could go look for the Promised Land? Um. Together?"
"Of course, Spike," Zack murmured, reaching towards him again. Cloud was expecting another hair-ruffle, but got a hair-stroke instead. "Just say the word and we'll go out and terrorize the world. Together."
"'The word,'" he deadpanned, making Zack blink before bursting into muffled laughter.
"Smartass."
"Moron."
They grinned at each other.
...
When Zack woke up early the next morning, it took him a long bewildered moment to remember where he was. He was in a two-roomed cottage, a bit like Brunhild's if only a bit more worn-looking, and was lying on a pile of blankets that smelled like sheep, wood-smoke, and Cloud.
Oh. That's right. And speaking of the kid, where was he?
Sitting up, it took a single sweeping glance to realize that he was alone, Missus Strife breathing softly behind the thin partition of her bedroom. Fully expecting another disaster, Zack was relieved to notice that a basket of snowdrops and winter berries was sitting on the kitchen table. Snowflakes were still melting from the delicate petals, meaning that Cloud had probably just brought them in and was going about his morning chores.
I must've been more tired than I thought if he didn't wake me up.
Reassured, he let himself fall back against the surprisingly warm bed and stretched luxuriously, reveling in the feeling of sleep-sore muscles easing and random things popping back into place. There was nothing quite like waking up without having to be anywhere anytime soon – unless, of course, you had someone lying next to you, warm and alive and comfortable. Zack pouted and promised himself to scare the wits out of a certain overly responsible blond with a tackle-hug, because seriously, getting up early to work? Wasn't so cool.
It took a while for him to muster up the willingness to get to his feet. He ran a hand through sleep-mussed hair, straightened his clothes, checked on his buster sword leaning safely by the door, and wondered again where the hell Cloud was.
(Sephiroth had once dryly told him, in not so many words, that Zack was an attention-whore in the mornings. Zack denied it because it wasn't like he was going to admit that Sephiroth was right.) He puttered around the cottage for a bit, cleaning up a few odds and ends and generally trying to distract himself while he waited for Cloud to get his skinny little ass back home.
It was while he was getting himself covered in soot trying to coax some flames from the hearth fire that he first heard the yelling; a fairly large group of people, from the sounds of it, and they definitely weren't happy. He couldn't pick out individual voices or words, but the overall tone was angry, even fearful.
Now what?
Setting down the poker, Zack slung his sword across his back and slipped outside into the bitingly cold air where the sun was still grey with morning light, casting a strange colorlessness over the village. He followed the sounds to the town square full of yelling people.
And the unmistakable scent of blood.
Fearing that a monster had managed to get into the town and hurt one of the villagers, Zack darted forward, pushing his way easily through the crowd. He stopped in horror.
Cloud was curled on the ground into a tight, defensive ball as Mayor Lockhart rained blows on him with a chain-wrapped fist. Blood streaked his face, his limbs, his torn clothing, the mud he lay in, utterly silent while the man screamed through his own tears.
"You could have killed my daughter, she might still die and it's all your fault, you disgusting, revolting animal! Your kind killed my wife but that wasn't enough, was it, you had to take everything from me – "
Every other word was punctuated with another harsh blow, the metal links coiled around the man's hand ripping clothing and skin alike; and all Zack could see was the scarlet brightness of Cloud's blood on his pale flesh, the way he simply held himself still as though knowing it wouldn't hurt as much if he didn't fight. Zack had fought in Wutai alongside General Sephiroth, had seen and done things that could still keep him awake at night, and the bloodlust he'd felt then came rushing back hot and furious until the mako flared violently in his body.
He was hardly aware of his beloved sword clattering to the ground or the howl of a third wolf behind him, all he knew was that Cloud was being hurt and he lunged forward with his lips twisted into a snarl, a howl in his throat and wildness in his eyes. The villagers fell back, scattered, screaming in sudden terror as the enormous wolf lunged at Lockhart and bit deeply into the man's shoulder. Lockhart stumbled back with a loud cry and Zack let him go, standing over the smaller broken body with his back arched, tail stiff and fur standing on end as he snarled.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you apart," he hissed, the words almost indistinguishable from the depth of his growls. He hadn't noticed Elfreda until she darted through the tangle of panicking villagers and curled, whimpering, around her son.
"He almost killed my daughter!" Lockhart yelled, pointing at Cloud with a blood-spattered hand. "She tried to follow you and you left her for dead in the gods-damned mountains all night, she nigh well fucking froze to death, you monsters – if Zangan hadn't found her – "
"That was her choice, Lockhart! If anyone should've been keeping an eye on her, it's you, as her father!"
But the hysterical man wasn't listening, too far gone in his panic and worry and parental terror, as one hand clutched uselessly at his wounded shoulder. "I should've known you'd try to take my daughter after you took my wife! It was a mistake to ever let wolves stay in this village – "
Zack was forced to one side as Missus Strife got back up to her feet and faced Lockhart. She was small for a wolf and decidedly too thin, but her pale fur was streaked with her only son's blood and her eyes were fierce.
"If you're so concerned for your daughter, Lockhart," she challenged, "then why aren't you with her right now, where any good parent would be?"
Her words seemed to knock the fight from him. His shoulders slumped, the length of chain dropping to the ground, and he sobbed openly into his hands. Zack gingerly checked for any broken vertebrae, lifted Cloud into his arms, and carried him back to the cottage. The villagers let them pass with mixed expressions and awkward silence.
...
The taste of hot copper was familiar and unwanted on his tongue, but Zack helped Missus Strife determinedly lick it away from Cloud's fur. She was whining low in her throat, almost inaudible.
The boy's injuries weren't life-threatening, he could tell, but that didn't stop Zack from desperately wishing that he had a Heal materia on him. The two wolves had to tilt his head carefully; he'd bitten through his tongue and was in danger of choking on blood. Wet muscle had been torn open, whole patches of fur missing, and though nothing seemed broken or missing, Cloud was no doubt going to feel like one huge bruise when he woke up.
Not if, but when, because Cloud was too much of a softie on the inside to give up when his mother was making those sounds and Zack was just barely keeping his rage in check. He'd only understood about half of what Lockhart was ranting about, but that wouldn't stop him from ripping the man's throat out the next time they met.
His nose led him to the small medicine cabinet that Elfreda kept by her bed, and together the two wolves managed to spread antibiotic cream and clean linens around Cloud's prone body. When Zack settled against Cloud's back and Elfreda stretched out on the other side, the boy's eyes opened just enough to see hazy shapes of vague color and shadow.
"Mum?" he whimpered, and Missus Strife gently licked at his muzzle, his face.
"Oh Cloud, my little dream-cloud, I'm so sorry…"
"S'not yer fault, Mum," he sighed softly, closing his eyes again. "Hey, tell Zack 'bout the Promised Land, Mum…like you used to tell me…"
With her wet black nose on the blankets next to Cloud's, sharing breath, Elfreda sang a song of quiet howls about a place where the moon was always full and a soul could run and run forever without ever reaching the end of freedom. Zack listened as he stared unseeingly at the far wall of the tiny cottage, breathing in the blood and pain that tainted Cloud's normally earthy scent.
Ever since he'd been found out as one of the half-legendary wolves and fleeing Midgar was the only thing keeping him from Hojo's lab, he'd lost any sense of direction. He couldn't hire himself out as a mercenary in one of the larger cities because ShinRa was actively searching for a wayward SOLDIER, and every plan he'd developed to sneak back into Midgar and steal Sephiroth away had been ruined by the presence of those damned Turks. That was, of course, assuming Sephiroth would be at all willing to throw away everything he'd been raised to know. And Zack…couldn't really ask that of him.
So he'd wandered around the map and eventually found himself in Nibelheim, where he saw his first wolves since leaving the military. Now that he'd revealed himself to the villagers he probably wouldn't be able to stay – it'd only be a matter of time before news of a mako-enhanced wolf got back to Midgar, one way or another – but he couldn't leave. Not alone, not when he'd seen the life that Missus Strife and Cloud (lonely, determined, strong Cloud) had to endure.
The boss always did say you got attached too easily, Fair.
He could feel Cloud's slow, stilted breathing, shallow but not dangerously so. The boy's mother was lying as close as she could physically get without hurting him, her head between her paws as she sang in a voice that only cracked a little; it was all this that made his decision before he realized there really was one.
The moment Cloud could walk unaided, he was getting them out of here.
...
Waking up that morning had been an odd experience. Cloud hadn't shared a bed with anyone since he was four, so when his sleep-fuddled mind felt that the fireplace had somehow crawled into the blankets with him, he'd practically curled himself around it. It took a little longer to realize that fireplaces didn't tend to breathe or make weird snuffly noises in their sleep, and he'd cracked open an eye to find he had his face buried in spiky black hair.
It was miracle no one woke up at his strangled squeak of mortified surprise. He rolled off the blankets with another yelp and smacked his rump on the hard floor, freezing when Zack made a growly sound and wiggled deeper into the blankets. When no one demanded to know what he was doing on the floor, Cloud pulled himself to his feet and winced when his backside protested its unexpected landing.
Figuring he'd never get back to sleep knowing someone else was lying so close, Cloud brought in some of the firewood Zack had helped him stack outside the house and borrowed one of his mother's baskets to pick some of the hardy berries that grew just beyond the town. He added some snowdrops for his mum. Then that basket went on the kitchen table for his mother to find when she got up, and he took another to collect some mushrooms for breakfast. They'd discovered at dinner the night before that Zack had a fondness for them.
He should've known something was truly wrong when Mr Lockhart, trailed by a fair number of angry people, seized him by the back of the shirt before Cloud made it to the trails.
"Are you happy with what you've done?" he yelled, shaking the boy roughly and knocking the basket from his hands.
"W-what are you talking about?" Cloud managed to gasp. He was shocked to see the tears in the corners of the mayor's eyes.
"Tifa tried following you and the bridge collapsed! If Zangan hadn't found her when he did…we still don't know if she'll make it, and what did she ever do to you?"
"Mr Lockhart, I – I don't know what you're talking about, I swear!"
But of course no one would believe the word of an animal, and after more yelling and demands Cloud was thrown to the ground, his head ringing from the blow across his face. He was used to the bruises and scrapes from the other boys, but he'd never been struck by an adult.
It hurt more than he expected.
"Mr Lockhart, I swear – "
But the man was deafened by his fear for his daughter, his only child and the only family he had left, and the second blow caught Cloud on the chest, driving the air from his lungs.
Individual hits turned into one long sensation of fiery agony, and with an instinct honed from years of being bullied Cloud curled into himself to protect his stomach and groin, forced himself to relax as much as possible to lessen the damage. He could hear yells and cries and, above all, Lockhart's voice screaming for his daughter and wife. He could taste blood on his tongue and he wondered if this was the last thing he'd know. It would've been nice to see his mum one more time, reassure her that she could get on without him, and maybe pay Zack back for all those hair ruffles.
He hoped Zack helped his mum find the Promised Land some day.
He was vaguely aware of a shift in the crowd, the yells turning panicked and fierce howls adding to the cacophony. There was nothing but the smell of blood and flesh and the starbursts behind his closed eyelids, but it was all starting to feel very distant, as though listening from inside a cave. Someone touched him softly but he couldn't stop the flinch.
Then strong but gentle arms lifted him up – he wanted to scream in protest, his body was not agreeing to this, but apparently telepathy wasn't one of his hidden talents because instead he was cradled closer to someone's chest. There was a heartbeat against his ear, a heavy thump-thump that he found himself listening to, spacing his breath with each beat. Maybe it was an angel. Didn't they specialize in forgiving monsters?
The unbearably loud noises faded away and he was shifted once more onto something softer than ground, softer than even the arms that had held him. He couldn't help the thin whimper that trickled from his lips at the movement, but paws – not hands, they were paws, they were safe – combed lightly through his fur. Someone was licking the blood from his muzzle, taking away the metallic stench clogging his nostrils, and there was an insane urge to giggle when he thought that maybe the angels were really wolves like him.
It wasn't until the heartbeat returned, this time against his back, that Cloud realized how tense his body had been. Counting one-two-three beats finally convinced him that, alive or dead, nothing else was going to jump out at him and he managed to open his eyes just enough to see some light, a little motion.
"Mum?" It felt like someone had shoved a thistle down his throat but that was all right, it was all right because his mum was there, focused like she used to be before her mind was swallowed by loneliness, and the heartbeat behind him must belong to Zack.
"Oh Cloud, my little dream-cloud, I'm so sorry…"
It hurt to smile, but he couldn't help it, not when she used the nickname he hadn't heard for years.
"S'not yer fault, Mum," he managed around the thistles in his voice, and closed his eyes because the effort was starting to hurt. "Hey, tell Zack 'bout the Promised Land, Mum…like you used to tell me…"
The darkness came back for him, but it was a gentle darkness, like a blanket being laid over his thoughts, and he fell asleep to the sound of his mum's singing and the thump-thump of Zack's heart.
Then.
Then.
Then the night burst into flames.
...
Zack didn't realize anything was wrong until the stench of smoke woke him. Raising his head he noted that the hearth had gone cold, but his twitching ears were picking up the clear sound of something burning.
The kitchen.
He turned sharply and was horrified to find that the thatch roof in one corner of the cottage, the very same thatch he'd helped Cloud fix some time ago so he could learn what the hell he was doing, was going up in tongues of fire.
Holyshitfucknotgood!
Cloud was still lying on his side, either sleeping or unconscious, but Elfreda was nowhere to be seen. Hoping desperately to the gods that she was taking a midnight toilet run, Zack shook Cloud as hard as he dared.
"Cloud! Cloud, I'm sorry, but you have to wake the fuck up right now and get out of here. Cloud!"
The boy stirred, letting out a groan and a weak, "Zack? What's going on, where's Mum?"
"We've got to get up, Cloud, c'mon," Zack repeated calmly but quickly, already nudging the aching and confused wolf to his feet. "I know it hurts, but I promise I'll let you go back to sleep as soon as we get out."
"What – why – "
When the blond continued stumbling awkwardly (oh Planet I hope nothing gets infected) Zack finally just picked him up and kicked open the cottage door. The sight that met him turned his body cold.
Every grown man and woman in Nibelheim as well as several older children was ringed around the place, carrying brands. In the false dawn light, the shadows cast over their faces by the fires made the world seem surreal.
It's a witch hunt, he thought numbly, unconsciously pulling Cloud closer to himself. It's a gods-damned fucking witch hunt.
"What's going on?" he said flatly, as cold as anything that had come out of Sephiroth's mouth. The portly man that had tried to overcharge Cloud at his shop stepped forward.
"Getting rid of the monsters," he barked viciously.
"Monsters?" Zack repeated in the same wintry tone. "The only monsters I see are standing right in front of me."
"The boy's bitch of a mother killed Mayor Lockhart!" Ertsa screamed, jabbing an accusatory finger at him, and against his will Zack felt his eyes widen.
What were you thinking, you daft woman? Did you think killing the bastard would make things better?
"The man almost killed Cloud!" Zack snapped.
"You beasts don't bring nothing but death!"
"Animals!"
"Monsters!"
Zack took a few steps forward as the heat behind him came dangerously close to singing him, and was vindictively pleased when the nearest villagers backed away hurriedly.
"What happened to Elfreda Strife?" he demanded coolly.
"Shot the fucking bitch," snarled one man, which raised another volley of cries. The SOLDIER felt nauseous.
Oh, Cloud… It wasn't much of a decision, really.
"Cloud and I are leaving. I suggest you step aside and let us pass." Or I'll tear every fucking one of you hypocrites apart.
"Just because you got a ShinRa uniform – "
"My name is Lieutenant General Zackary Fair, SOLDIER First, second in command to General Sephiroth." His voice dropped to a borderline snarl. "If anyone so much as lifts a finger in our direction, I'll kill him."
His name might not be quite as well-known as the General's, but it seemed the townspeople got who he was clearly enough; they cleared a path for him, and he walked between the lines of hateful faces staring straight ahead. Cloud made a quiet protest and tried to shift, but Zack whispered something he hoped was calming to make him still.
"Move your gossip-mongering selves!" a familiar woman said loudly. "Give me a look like that again, girl, and I'll tan your hide so hard your grandchildren will feel it!"
Brunhild?
The smith's wife pushed her way to the fore of the crowd, lugging behind her an enormous sword and panting with the exertion. In all of the panic, Zack had forgotten his sword in the town. "Don't think you'd be wanting to go off without this thing."
"Thank you, Brunhild." Lowering an arm so that Cloud's feet touched the ground, he braced the blond with the other arm and used the now free hand to swing the buster sword into the harness he wore habitually on his back. This blatant show of strength sent another wave of tension through the villagers.
As he picked up Cloud once more, Brunhild added, "I told you I ain't so fond of your kind, but little Cloud's never been nothing but a good boy regardless, taking care of his mum the only way he knew how. You show him something better, Zackary, all right?"
Zack gave her a small, sad smile. "Yes, milady."
Brunhild opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by another shout.
"Fire!"
Because the Strife cottage was made of stone and located far enough away from the nearest building that the slight breeze wouldn't carry the flames, the fire was mostly limited to the roof and everything flammable inside. At the moment of that one shout, however, there was an explosion and the fire billowed outwards with a roar like an enraged dragon, throwing the nearest villagers to the ground with the sudden flux of air and stone shrapnel. Zack was knocked forward to one knee when a rock struck him hard in the shoulder, Cloud groaning in pain when his legs hit the ground.
"This way!" a male voice yelled in his ear, yanking him upright by the back of his shirt. Zack didn't argue, already dropping back into soldiering instincts.
Enemy unknown. Potentially hostile civilians. Course of action: run like fucking hell.
The flames spread across the thatch roofs like oil over water, lighting up the village like some macabre show against the darkness of pre-dawn. Part of Zack's mind wanted to run back and make sure Brunhild survived, another wanted to tear down Lockhart's house and make sure those fucking cowards hadn't been lying about Missus Strife – but Cloud was a living wounded weight in his arms and he couldn't.
The man that had dragged him to his feet turned off the main road and down a side alley. "The fire'll be at the town center by now!" he called. "This is the fastest way out!"
His shoulder screaming at him, Zack ran as fast as he could and tightened his grip around Cloud until the boy gasped for breath, not missing how the man was apparently able to keep up with a SOLDIER First's speed. There was a crash from behind as something large, probably the water tower, collapsed and the light flared.
"Zangan?"
The martial artist glanced at him but didn't answer until they broke the tree-line. Panting, the man gasped, "I was there when Lady Strife broke into Mayor Lockhart's home. She killed him, but one of the villagers disturbed by all the fighting shot her down. The people decided they couldn't live with wolves and – well. I'm sorry for Cloud that nothing I said could stop them."
"What – "
"Take Cloud and run," Zangan commanded firmly, and for a moment Zack saw the man as a Wutaian warrior once more. "Remember that my people have always been a sanctuary for outcasts."
"Zangan, I – "
But the martial artist was already running back to the village full of screams and flames. Zack stared after him, exhausted and confused and wishing someone would tell him when the world decided to go batshit fucking crazy.
But he'd already made a promise.
I said we'd find the Promised Land together, kiddo. No time like the present.
Cloud whimpered again in his arms. Zack moved as fast as he dared into the mountains while Nibelheim burned behind them.
