Chapter Two

Sephiroth was not there the next time Zack woke up.

It was a simple idea, to stay by a bedside. It was harder in reality. He had an army to lead. He made it down to medical as often as he could, despite the stress headache it gave him. Zack had started to look more like himself after the first fifteen hours of fluids, but the slightly-less-ghostly pallor was far from the miracle that part of Sephiroth had been hoping for since he first laid eyes on his friend.

Cloud took the brunt of the strain, and Sephiroth knew it. While he had to attend to his duties, Cloud stayed by Zack's side—wiped the senseless, unconscious tears off his face, and the drool from the corner of his lips while he slept on and on endlessly. Sephiroth's appearances, when he could manage them, led to Cloud vanishing. It had become an unspoken rule within moments of Sephiroth's first arrival after a spell of work.

Cloud needed rest and privacy and time to eat and drink. So they did their best to spread out the exhaustion. Sephiroth worked during the day, taking over for Cloud during his brief lunch break. It was long enough for the man he loved to relieve himself without fear of leaving Zack alone. Then he'd go back to the lonely routine of meetings and paperwork and training.

When he was done at last he no longer went home to his apartment to a blond Soldier smiling and waiting for him. Instead he walked back to the near-silent medical wing. Cloud was always still waiting for him, of course, but it was with a strained, tired look. Usually they exchanged at least a brief touch, but they did not kiss or cling to one another. Neither of them seemed to have the energy for such affection.

The medical staff kept Zack at a low-level sedation for a long time. Infections had to be pinned down before his recovery could fully start, and the Soldier's mental damage would further wound his body, they said. Sephiroth wasn't sure he believed them, but he patiently sat by the bedside of his best friend through the long nights, and only dozed off now and then. He stole the same kind of sleep he had during the war—short, stiff bouts of rest that would be enough to keep him going, but not for long.

Zack's room was filling up with flowers and get-well gifts. Sephiroth watched the nurses bring them, and did not bother checking the names. He only inspected each one for signs of danger or poison or bombs, then placed them aside. He made sure to put them all somewhere Zack would see them when he woke. Flowers meant little to Sephiroth, but he knew they would mean something to his friend.

He and Cloud barely spoke. After months of living and breathing each other, it felt to Sephiroth like a particularly cruel sensory deprivation—as though everything that brought him joy had been stripped away. He'd been so used to allowing himself to live that vibrant sort of life. Going back to the grim routine of waiting, alone and sleepless, was painful. But he did not complain, and he never would. One look at Zack's pale face, or the small beginnings of new fingernails growing from ruined flesh was enough to kill any self-pity Sephiroth might have felt.

The nurses had maintained Zack's medical privacy well, but Sephiroth had caught glimpses here and there. He and Cloud had started swapping a notebook on the second day, leaving each other little notes about his condition. A mention of the harsh scar Cloud had seen on Zack's ankle when he shifted out from under the blankets in his sleep. A note on the mottled bruises coiling over his collar bone that Sephiroth had noticed two nights ago. The nurse's hiss of sympathy from behind the closed door when Sephiroth had to wait outside for her to bathe his friend.

It was not pleasant reading, but it felt necessary. They knew so little. It was Zack's story to tell or to keep secret, but Sephiroth felt he had to know something of what to expect. Cloud, it appeared, felt the same.

By the third day, it had become routine. Sephiroth signed paperwork on autopilot, his mind filled with the books he'd been reading about helping someone recover from torture, about what a starvation victim ought to eat, about how to respond appropriately when a horrific detail was revealed. He memorized all of it, but could not see himself following the advice. He would try, but he had never been skilled at emotional things. He'd left them for Cloud to read, and had noticed the blond's distinctive multi-colored bookmarks appearing throughout them as he located important passages.

He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the screaming and flames and fire that always followed the silence in war. He was prepared to watch his world fall apart, and prepared to hold on through it in a desperate attempt to keep the people he cared for alive.

And yet, despite his knowing that the fall was coming, when his phone buzzed on the fourth day since Zack came home it felt like the world lurched under him. He wasn't ready for the text message that lit up his phone—wasn't ready to see Cloud messaging him. Anxiety tightened his chest as he waited for the message to load, his fingers tight enough on the phone that he had to force himself to back off before he shattered the re-enforced machine.

"Hes up& talking!" the message proclaimed.

Despite the emotional impact of the words, Sephiroth's mind stuck on the shorthand and punctuation errors, his left eye twitching in distaste. Then his grip on the phone went suddenly lax, and it fell from his fingers to the desk. He stared at the wall opposite him.

Zack was awake. Cloud hadn't called him in hysterics, but had instead sent a text. That ended with an exclamation mark. That usually indicated excitement, in Sephiroth's experience. Excitement meant… Maybe that miracle he'd been hoping for wasn't so far-fetched after all.

He glanced at the stack of paperwork, then at his scheduled meeting. Then he forced his hands to function again, picking up his fallen phone and sending a text to Heidegger's number.

'Soldier business. Meeting postponed.'

He locked the office door behind him with a quick scan of his thumbprint, then nodded to the secretary who doubled as a gatekeeper to his office sanctum. She didn't question why he was sweeping out of his office halfway through the work day. That was part of why she'd kept her job so long.

He couldn't decide what he ought to feel as he walked swiftly down to medical. He kept his hardest mask in place as he stormed past the denizens of Shinra. He would entertain no distractions. He was trying to chose between excitement and fear and guilt—Guilt not just from allowing this to happen to Zack, but from not feeling the way he ought to automatically. It had never come easy to him. He wished now more than ever that his mind was more together—more human.

The woman at the front desk of medical looked up at him with a smile when he walked through the door. Every day before, she'd given him a pitying look. He catalogued the crinkled skin at the corner of her eyes, and the eagerness in the tilt of her lips. He strode past her without waiting to exchange words, moving quickly towards the back, doing his best not to stalk. It did not feel like the sort of place one should stalk.

He heard Zack before he saw him.

"Who brought the roses?"

He stopped in the hallway, rocking forward on the balls of his feet, but not moving. He tilted his head, sifting through the sound of Zack's voice. Dry, yes. Rasping and weak. Muffled as though he were talking from under the oxygen mask. But none of the strain Sephiroth had expected to hear. None of the raw desperation that there had been in his desperate pleas.

'Enough enough enough'

"Um, the card says Reno." Cloud's voice was a warm reply, filled with affection and relief. "But it looks like someone else's name used to be on it. I think he's just taking credit for all the ones he thought were good."

"Aw, he cares." Zack replied, tapering off into a laugh that devolved too quickly into coughs and wheezes that still managed to sound amused.

"Zack, you promised you wouldn't laugh too much." Cloud's voice complained with honest worry behind the teasing.

"Can't help it." Another rough cough that could have been a chuckle. "It's too damn funny."

Sephiroth forced himself forward, moving stiffly to the doorway, until he could see Zack's face—The wry grin under the oxygen mask, the eyes still hazed with sleep, teary from coughing. The color high in his cheeks from the breathless wheezes of laughter.

"I'm not telling you any more until you start breathing properly again." Cloud declared, stepping into Sephiroth's view and sitting lightly on Zack's bedside, his arms crossed firmly.

"Define 'normal,' Spikey." Zack insisted breathlessly, even as he sank back into the bed, eyes gazing up at the ceiling, a rakish grin still fixed on his lips. "Go on. I'd love to hear you try."

"I'll just wait until you're not as red as if you'd been boiled, then." Cloud responded rather sharply, and a part of Sephiroth flinched. His mind panicked, scrambled, because what if that set Zack on a flashback, what if it was the wrong thing to say, what if—

Laughter again, or as close as the Soldier could come. His eyes crinkled, and he wheezed amiably. Cloud's hand fluttered down from where he'd previously crossed it, resting over Zack's chest as though urging the rattling there to vanish.

Sephiroth felt frozen. It wasn't what he'd prepared for. It wasn't the wide eyes and shaking hands that plagued Cloud after trauma, or the violent ferocity of Genesis's pain. It wasn't the blatant refusal to acknowledge his injury that Angeal would have stubbornly displayed. It wasn't even his own stony silence. Zack grinned and played with Cloud as though this were a minor setback. As though he would be swinging out off bed and doing squats if his legs would hold him. He probably would be.

He didn't know how to fit into this easy repartee that Zack and Cloud seemed to have developed already. He didn't know how to smile at the wan, weak version of Zack Fair. He didn't know how to give the gentle comfort of Cloud's hand while still letting that teasing air live between him and his friend. He shifted, wanting to go to Zack, and not wanting to make it worse. He took things too seriously for the First's taste, he knew. Would this fall into that category as well? Was he meant to make light of it? Was he supposed to join the playful atmosphere?

Then Zack's weary eyes flickered to him, and Sephiroth found that he couldn't resist the way his friend's face brightened at the sight of him. He stepped into the room, ducking his head as though to avoid something. He only held eye contact for a moment before glancing to the monitors, clearing his throat as he waited to be given his lead-in cue.

"Well, doc?" Zack's voice was as colored with pain as it was with laughter. "Will I play the violin again?"

"Did you play the violin before?" Sephiroth asked, keeping his voice low, gauging the reaction carefully, watching the heartbeats spiking on the screen for any change.

"Not even close." Zack's chuckle sounded ragged.

"Then I highly doubt this has improved your aptitude." Sephiroth hazarded after a moment, turning to face Zack properly.

The sunny, approving grin that he received was somewhat dampened by the split that opened in Zack's lip from smiling too much. A bead of blood welled from the cracked skin.

"Pity." Zack commented, even as he accepted the tissue Cloud offered with a hand that was only shaking a little, lifting the oxygen mask off his face to dab at the bloody mark.

"Welcome home." Sephiroth offered quietly instead of playing any further into the game.

Zack paused, swallowed, then smiled a smaller, softer smile, his eyes closing lightly and a low hum catching in his throat.

"Good to be back."

"You sound like you're going to sandpaper your throat to death." Cloud scolded fondly, pressing a cup into Zack's hand when he took the bloodied tissue back. "Chew on some ice and give Sephiroth a minute to fret over you."

"Seph doesn't fret for anyone but you." Zack teased roughly, even as he wiggled stiffly back on the bed to prop himself up on the pillows, tipping some of the ice shavings into his mouth and crunching on them, the oxygen mask around his neck still rushing softly.

"You didn't see him the past few days." Cloud replied, looking more alive than he had since Zack arrived pale and bruised. The dark circles under his eyes were hard to notice in the light of the smile on his face, and the relief that colored his entire being. "Fretting over you like a doting ghost."

Sephiroth grunted in disapproval at Cloud's teasing, but he only halfway meant it. He sank slowly into the chair at Zack's side, and received a doleful look from his friend.

"You're not gonna sit on the bed with us?" Zack asked around a mouthful of ice.

"It's hardly built to have two Soldiers sitting on it as it is." Sephiroth groused. "I don't want to flip you out of bed. At least not until we've got that IV unhooked."

"Suddenly, I am less disappointed in your choice of seat." Zack chuckled, bleary eyes tightening in a smile.

Sephiroth watched him steadily a moment, unsurprised when Zack turned from his scrutiny to pass Cloud back the cup and snuggle back into his oxygen mask as though it were a comfort blanket. He knew how good it could be to feel the cleansing breaths of air in an exhausted body.

"You're feeling…" Sephiroth cast about for a word. 'Alright' seemed too flippant, 'okay' too obviously incorrect. Cloud lifted an eyebrow at him from across Zack's bed, and Sephiroth jumped ahead with the next word that came to mind at the expectant look. "Adequate?"

Zack snorted, choked on a giggle, and waved a hand at Cloud and Sephiroth both when they gave a concerned jolt forward.

"Adequate." He muttered to himself, reaching out with a weak hand to pat Sephiroth on the arm. "Sure, buddy. I mean, breathing, check. Heartbeat, machine says yes. Pretty sure I'm stringing words together pretty well, I think Cloudy would have told me if I was fucking that up."

"Words seem to be working, yeah." Cloud agreed, his warm smile settling the anxiety that had risen in Sephiroth at his misstep.

"Wanna see if holding my breath will set off the nurse call alert?" Zack asked somewhat too eagerly, already out of breath just from conversing.

"Rain check." Cloud replied, shaking his head. His hand had come to rest on Zack's wrist, naturally, warmly. Sephiroth kept himself removed, too concerned about touching the wrong place, or hitting the wrong nerve. He could not touch Zack. Not and risk harming him.

"That means soon, right?" Zack's look was pure mischief, but it vanished under a wince when he shifted uneasily under the white blanket.

"Are you hurting?" Sephiroth asked quietly, concerned.

"Just sore." Zack shot him a glance that was surprisingly quelling. "And a little tired. Pretty dumb, though, being tired after sleeping… How many days was I out again, Spike?"

"Three since you've been here." Cloud replied with an ease that wasn't matched in his body posture. Sephiroth watched him tense, then force himself loose, and wondered if perhaps Cloud was putting on as much of a mask as he was for Zack's sake.

"I got that many flowers in three days?" Zack chuckled, delight crinkling his eyes, though he managed to keep from laughing loudly enough to set off another coughing fit. "Usually takes a while to even get them into the—"

He broke off abruptly, his eyes fixating on something across the room. Sephiroth followed his gaze to the pile of flowers and gifts, searching for what might have caught his eye.

"Seph." His voice had gotten abruptly weaker, and Sephiroth jerked his eyes back to him in fear. The look on his face had changed utterly, quiet shock seeming to set in where cheer had been before. "Would you bring those lilies over? The ones in the basket."

"They came in this morning." Cloud clarified, even as Sephiroth rose immediately to follow the request. "Tseng brought them by."

"Yeah." Zack muttered. "He would."

Sephiroth's fingers twitched when he touched the handle of the basket. There was something about the smell of the flowers that touched a nerve deep in the back of his mind. He didn't let himself hesitate, despite the unease. They were obviously safe. If Tseng had brought them in they would have been thoroughly vetted.

He watched in surprise when Zack retrieved the basket from his hand with both his too-thin arms, curling them around the wicker as though cradling something precious. Inside, the lilies shifted, soft and delicate, and miraculously unwilted for not having been put into a vase.

"She shouldn't have." Zack whispered, his voice rough with emotion that had been absent before.

Sephiroth watched the play of shadow and longing over Zack's face as he slowly sank back into his seat. He looked to Cloud for help and clarification and received the smallest of smiles and a quiet shake of the head from the blond.

"I'm sure she was as worried about you as the rest of us." Cloud said gently, placing a careful hand on Zack's shoulder as the First bent forward, pressing his cheek lightly against the handle of the basket.

Ah, Sephiroth thought. The flower girl. That explained how the lilies had lasted. If what Zack said was true, she actually had a patch of them growing beneath the plate. That would have made a short enough trip for them to survive it. He exhaled quietly through his nose, trying to ignore the way the scent of them set his teeth on edge.

"You guys told her?" Zack asked, lifting pained eyes to Cloud, a strangely betrayed look on his face.

"Not details." Cloud corrected quickly, lifting his hands. "When you were missing, and when you were found. Mentioned that you were hurt, but I'm sure Tseng didn't tell her anything too personal. Same as with your folks."

Zack's mouth twisted for a moment, then he settled again, the flowers in his lap, and one of his too-weak hands sliding into the basket to rest on the delicate stems of the blossoms. He gave a shiver and settled back on the hospital bed.

Sephiroth drew in a breath to speak, but their alone time with Zack was over. There was a knock on the door that heralded a smiling woman with a clipboard held over her chest.

"Commander Fair?" She asked sweetly, looking ever so slightly star-struck. "The doctor wanted me to go over some treatment options with you. Would you prefer to talk in private?"

"Pretty lady like you?" Zack grinned behind the oxygen mask. "You'd better believe it."

"Zack—" Sephiroth wanted to tell him that it was alright, that they would be there for him no matter what. But the sharp look Zack cut him before his grin reappeared silenced the words.

"Shoo," Zack's laugh was a wheeze, and if it hadn't been for the glare that came before it, Sephiroth would have bought it hook line and sinker. "You're cramping my style!"

"We'll see you soon, then." Cloud dropped a hand lightly on Zack's forearm, patting him twice. "Glad you're up, you knuckle head."

Sephiroth followed Cloud out of the room without trying to play into the game. He considered standing outside the closed door and eavesdropping, but Cloud drew him away and he didn't fight.

"He's bad." Cloud said softly once they were safely standing by the coffee machine in the waiting room.

Sephiroth took one look at the harrowed expression on Cloud's face, and poured him a cup of coffee. He sweetened it with two packets of sugar, stirring in three of the little packets of cream. Cloud gifted him with a tired smile as he accepted the coffee with both hands.

"You think it's an act, then." Sephiroth's own voice was strangely rough, and he cleared his throat after the words.

Cloud gave a weary chuckle that was far from pleasant.

"I thought at first he was for real." He took a slow sip of coffee and let out a heavy sigh. "But I was just happy to see him awake. He's… Well. He's being Zack about it."

"Good to know he's not too far gone." Sephiroth offered after a moment. "As difficult as this may make it to get through to him."

"I just don't want to let him know that it's that see through, you know?" Cloud's bright blue gaze lifted to Sephiroth.

Tears were welling in his bloodshot eyes, and Sephiroth's hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach out. He didn't know where to touch, or what to say, so he forced his hand still, and waited to hear more.

"I know it's for protection." Cloud's chin tucked again, and he edged a little closer to Sephiroth. "It makes him feel safe to hide behind that smile, and I don't want to take that safety away."

"You are a good friend." Sephiroth whispered, lifting has hand slowly and clasping it lightly on Cloud's bicep. "And I think you are right to let him hide, at least for now. If what I think is of importance."

"It is." Cloud muttered, sliding closer just to knock against Sephiroth with his shoulder.

Sephiroth let a breath escape him at the touch, and tucked his chin. He didn't quite curl around Cloud like he wanted to, but he stayed still, standing before him and letting Cloud press as close as he liked.

For a moment, he was reminded of a mission they'd been sent on together. It had been raining, the wind blowing so hard that the rain had been nearly horizontal. He'd stood against it calmly, letting Cloud hide from the rain in his wake for a little while, the infantryman chuckling about Sephiroth granting him shelter from the storm.

Sephiroth could only hope that Cloud felt sheltered from this storm as well, even if only for a while.

For a moment, it was still. The smell of coffee was strong enough that Sephiroth it nearly covered the scent of sickness and sterility. Cloud needed a shower, but Sephiroth was grateful for it, in a way. It gave him one more layer of scent to hide from the too-familiar medical smells. He wondered if it was really Cloud he was sheltering, or if it was the other way around. He wondered if it mattered.

"What if he doesn't let us help?" Cloud asked into the silence a long while later.

Sephiroth lifted his eyes from the mop of blond hair close to his chest, gazing at the wall across from them for a moment. He made a low sound, acknowledging Cloud's question without replying yet, the fingers of his free hand twitching with impotence.

"Then we must respect his wishes." Sephiroth replied at last. "Though I hope that will not be the case."

Cloud pressed a little closer, silent for a moment before he took a slow breath.

"Sephiroth." His voice was low and intimate, a fragile note of concern carrying through it. "You're shaking."

Sephiroth made a conscious effort to still himself, but the finite tremble of his muscles continued. There was no removing the tension without dissociating, and he dared not do that yet.

"I do not have a good track record with helping my friends." He barely let the words escape him in a breath. If Cloud's enhancements hadn't started to take hold, the young man never would have heard him. As it was those luminous eyes lifted to gaze up at Sephiroth with shocked worry. Sephiroth jerked his head up to look away from the expression.

Cloud leaned more heavily against him, and the pressure was strangely comforting. Sephiroth took a slow breath and allowed himself that comfort, at least for a moment.

"It's not the same." Cloud whispered, pressing his cheek to Sephiroth's bared chest. "He's not going to leave, Sephiroth."

"I'm sorry." His voice came out strained, and he cleared his throat softly, feeling his brows lower with tension and restraining the expression. "I'm sorry." He repeated, his voice smoother. "I am alright, Cloud."

"You don't have to be." Cloud whispered. "I know you want to be for him, and for me, but it's okay for this to hurt you too. I'd be worried if it didn't affect you."

"I usually have better control than this." Sephiroth sighed. "Perhaps I should call in Tseng's offer to have a Turk stay with Zackary tonight. I'm…" He struggled to voice the admission, before finally finishing. "Tired."

"Me too." Cloud replied, his voice tense. "It's been a while since we had a good night's sleep, huh."

"About three weeks." Sephiroth agreed dryly.

"Want some of my coffee?" Cloud offered with a wry twist to his lips.

"I'd prefer an assassination attempt." Sephiroth sighed. "Those always wake me right up."

"You always say that." Cloud chuckled. "And I still haven't seen one assassination attempt to prove it."

"I need to find more daring political opponents." Sephiroth agreed with a huff.

Cloud's laughter was muffled in his coffee cup, but Sephiroth could feel him smiling, and the look the Soldier sent him was warm and affectionate. For a moment, Sephiroth allowed himself to think that everything would be okay.

Zack was asleep again by the time they were allowed back into the room. The basket of lilies was resting by his bedside, and Sephiroth gave a low hum of thought, looking at them.

"We should fetch them some water." He muttered after a moment. "They seem particularly important to him."

"I don't think I own any vases." Cloud replied with a helpless shrug. "We could switch them out with the roses. Those don't even have a proper name on them anymore."

Sephiroth glanced at the roses and gave a quiet scoff, his eyes focusing on the indentations under Reno's name, reading the dedication the Turk had removed neatly.

"They're from 'Janice.'" He reported. "I don't know who Janice is."

"Zack probably doesn't either." Cloud commented, fetching the flowers. "He'd probably like her if he met her again, though. He tends not to flirt or chat unless he means it. He just means it a lot more than most of us."

"Do you still owe him that date?" Sephiroth asked, glancing over at Cloud, just to watch him blush at the reminder.

"It wasn't a date." Cloud muttered. "But yes. I've been saving it for a special occasion, you know? Not like we haven't gone out to dinners together and stuff, but…"

Sephiroth phased out for a moment, then shook his head briskly, fighting back the rushing in his ears. His eyes were having some trouble focusing, and he caught a deeper breath, forcing them to sharpen, gazing intently at the drip of the IV bag.

"—iroth?" Cloud's voice filtered back into his awareness, and Sephiroth turned his disobedient eyes to his lover. Cloud's look of concern struck straight to the heart of him.

"Go home." Cloud murmured after a moment. "You've been pulling double duty too long."

"I don't want to leave." Sephiroth said bleakly. "He just woke up."

"And he'll wake up again." Cloud assured him in a quiet voice. "I'll call Reno or Cissnei in to keep an eye on him tonight. Then I'll come meet you, okay? You need to sleep."

"I've slept less." Sephiroth said with a shrug of his shoulder.

"Don't do that." Cloud whispered, crossing the last of the distance between them, setting the flowers down to take one of Sephiroth's hands in his fingers. "It's not about how much you can stand. I know you want to be here for him, but you have to take care of yourself too. You're already having issues with disassociation."

"You noticed." Sephiroth's voice came out flat and empty.

"I always try to notice when something's hurting you." Cloud squeezed his hand gently. "I know this is hard on you. And I know I haven't been helping."

"You don't need to look after me." Sephiroth glowered at the words and Cloud shot him a brief glare.

"Don't you get defensive at me." He scolded mildly. "There's nothing wrong with me wanting to help and protect you."

"I am not a child."

"You are exhausted, though." Cloud's free hand lifted to press against his chest. "Or you wouldn't be growling at me at all."

Sephiroth averted his eyes, then shook his head briskly. "You're not much better." He muttered. "And you have less mako to offset the exhaustion."

"I know." Cloud sighed after a moment. "And I promise I'll come join you and sleep. Just… Please, Seph. I'm worried. I have time off thanks to you, but you might have to go on a mission any day, and we're still not sure if Reno and Rude got all of the people who took him, or who they were working for, and if you get sent away and you don't come back—"

"No one is going to capture me." Sephiroth said softly.

"Zack would have said the same thing three weeks ago." Cloud's gaze was firm as he stared up at Sephiroth. "I know you're worried. But please. Do this for me. I want to know that you're safe."

Sephiroth looked to their sleeping friend. His hands were both palm up now, resting on top of the covers. There were shining scars on his wrists from how they'd bound him. The oxygen mask misted rhythmically with his breaths.

"Alright." He murmured at last. "Since you are the one who is asking."

"Thank you." Cloud sighed, carefully lifting the roses free of the vase.

Sephiroth moved on auto pilot, lifting the lilies and sliding them into the water. They made his hands tingle. He wondered if he was allergic to that type of flower. He'd never had the chance to find out before.

"Did you notice anything new for the notebook?" Cloud asked, drawing Sephiroth's attention from the itching in his palms. "While we're both here?"

"Jaundice." Sephiroth replied, idly wiping his palms off on the leather of his jacket. "I wasn't sure before because his skin coloration is already off. But the whites of his eyes are definitely yellow."

"That's a problem with his liver?" Cloud asked, looking anxious.

"Probably it is a function of the dehydration and starvation, and will fade quickly." Sephiroth muttered, shaking his head a little. "Just something to keep an eye on."

"Right." Cloud muttered.

"And you?" Sephiroth asked, taking a deep breath, fighting to keep himself awake. Now that he'd agreed to sleep, he found that his body craved it.

"I think he's angry." Cloud murmured after a moment. "I'm sorry I didn't notice anything physical, but under the laughing I kept catching these glares from him. I think he's not, um…" He trailed off, his eyes flickering downwards and darkening. "'Not happy' sounds like stating the obvious."

"If it helps, I do not think it is us he is angry with." Sephiroth murmured, even as his mind flicked through the too-brief conversation with their friend. "Displaced anger and bitterness are common problems in those recovering from such ill treatment."

"Thanks." Cloud sighed with a smile, settling the dripping roses in the basket and placing them gently aside with the other flowers. "That does help."

Sephiroth stared down at his face a moment before he let out a breath, bending slowly to catch Cloud in the softest of kisses.

"You'll come home tonight?" He asked, glad that Cloud's eyes stayed closed for a moment after their kiss, because as wistful as his voice came out, he must have been giving him a strange look.

"Cross my heart." Cloud murmured.

Sephiroth nodded slowly, turning his gaze to Zack. He didn't say anything to the unconscious man—he found the idea of speaking to someone who wasn't listening uncomfortable at best—but he watched him for a moment, observing the rise and fall of his chest. Then he gave a slow nod, stroked a hand over Cloud's shoulder briefly and walked out of the room.

He all but sleepwalked back to his apartment, and fell into bed without grace, struggling against his boots as though he were still a new Soldier fighting with the company's fashion sense. By the time he was undressed and under the covers, he could feel a headache pounding inside his skull, finally able to be recognized now that he was taking a moment free of all his masks.

Despite his exhaustion and stress and need, he couldn't sleep. He kept running through what he'd seen of Zack—what Reno had told them—what he knew of torture from his own experience.

He wished he knew less, and yet he wished he could know everything at the same time. Knowledge was a weapon, and he would have been much happier armed.

As it was, by the time Cloud came home Sephiroth was sitting at the table with a cup of tea, unable to rest and too frustrated by his failure to stay in bed a moment longer. Hestia was playing on the table. The mouse was ducked under the curled fingers of Sephiroth's right hand, peeking her head out now and then.

Sometimes she would dart through his fingers to sprint around the table before returning to her hiding place, as though trying to coerce Sephiroth into playing. Sephiroth found little solace in her usually amiable and amusing companionship. He did not protest when Cloud gently scooped up the blue-eyed mouse and settled her back in her cage. He watched through dull eyes as Cloud treated her to a couple of the almonds they kept as treats for her.

When the blond took his arm in hand afterwards and walked with him back to the bedroom, Sephiroth followed silently. They curled into bed together silently. He held Cloud close, craving the feel of his breathing against his chest.

When the smaller man couldn't calm his shaking, Sephiroth wiped the tears off his cheeks as Cloud bit his lip and cried silently. Eventually, long after Cloud had fallen into exhausted rest, Sephiroth managed to follow him into sleep. He was too tired even to dream.