Author's Note:

Another chapter. A tad draggy. Let me know what you think. Reviews would be nice. )

Disclaimer:

As before. Don't own them.

Chapter three: Return

Tifa walked briskly into the room, a large bucket of hot water in her arms. She set it down next to the bed, folding the cloth she had draped over her shoulder on the edge of the bucket, then turning to make her exit. She paused at the door, looking at Cloud who had taken up a silent vigil next to the unconscious Zack for the past hour. He had not said anything after carrying the raven haired man up the stairs and into his room. His eyes never left the ex-SOLDIER, staring at his closed eyes intently with an undecipherable concentration.

"Still not telepathic, Cloud," Tifa muttered to herself, starting back down to the bar.

She had long disappeared from the door frame when Cloud's hand reached for the cloth, soaking it in the hot water. A million thoughts sparked, clashed and vanished again in his mind as he gingerly wiped the sweat and grime away from Zack's face, half afraid that if he did anything more than brush the older man's skin, the ex-SOLDIER would fade away into nothingness.

Why? How? When?

The blonde pursed his lips together tightly to stop a barrage of questions from assaulting the unconscious man on his bed. He instead turned his attention to slowly removing the rest of Zack's soaked clothing. He began the task of peeling away the layers of tattered uniform sans his boxers, laying them next to his pile of clothing at the foot of the bed. Soaking the cloth again, he wiped the dirt away from the rest of Zack's body. With the layer of grey, black and green gone, there was a much clearer view of what 5 years had done to the raven haired man.

There were more scars streaking his skin now than Cloud had remembered. Perhaps he had remembered wrong. The younger man frowned, tracing one particularly nasty looking scar that raced diagonally from his right shoulder to his left hip. He didn't remember this one...

"Like what you see, Spike?"

Cloud's eye snapped up and his hand back to his lap as Zack cracked open his eyes wearily. Mako green eyes blinked hesitantly before flitting around the room he was in. Cloud was never one for unnecessary prettifications to his room and it remained characteristically bare and basic. A table. A bed. And a chair drawn up next to Zack with a wide eyed young man on it.

"Long time no see, eh?" Zack chuckled painfully, reaching out to ruffle the blonde's hair. "Still looking like a chocobo..."

Cloud blinked back emotions bombarding his mind, shutting off all the questions for the moment and desperately memorizing the feel of the calloused hand on his head. He had been yearning for this touch for the whole of 5 years. This warmth. This surge of emotions in his almost unfeeling heart.

"How have you been doing while I was gone?" Zack grinned at the unresponsive Cloud.

Excruciating. Cloud thought to himself.

"Fine."

Zack searched the younger man's eyes for a different answer to the monosyllabic one he had just received. It had been a long time since he could come this close to him and he took his time taking in how much his young protege had grown into this strong, tenacious man, whose silence and slightly dulled eyes were the only clues to the shattered soul in them.

He raised his hand off Cloud's head with a soft pat, hauling himself upright on the surprisingly springy bed, albeit slowly. He could have sworn he could hear his joints scrape against each other. Gods he felt old.

Zack stretched out his tired limbs as Cloud wordlessly got up to his closet and withdrew a pair of pants and shirt for him. He briefly mused that his clothes would be a tad small on the larger man before tossing them on the bed. He leaned against the closet, watching Zack struggle with his clothing, half expecting him to vanish if he did so much as blink. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real. He saw Zack die...

"I have no idea how you wear these everyday, Spike," Zack frowned at the confusing article of clothing in front of him. "Why are there so many buckles and zippers?"

A hint of a smile tweaked at the corners of the blonde's lips as he walked over and helped Zack with the shirt. He had no idea why it was so confusing either. A belt here, an extraneous piece of cloth there... As he helped the raven haired young man into the shirt, his gaze subconsciously lingered on the scars again, following their jagged path across his chest. He could almost still smell the tangy citrus that was Zack. Almost feel the comforting heat of his body. Almost feel the tanned skin under his fingers-

"Cloud, I've brought you- Oh, you're awake."

Cloud wrenched himself from 3 inches of Zack to look at Tifa who had stepped into the room, bearing a tray of something that smelled faintly of stew. She set the tray down on the table next to the bed, casting a concerned look at the ex-SOLDIER who had taken to grinning warmly at her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fantastic!" Zack said. "Better than I've felt in years!"

Tifa could tell he wasn't joking when he said that. She gave him a smile and left the room again, telling the two men to let her know they needed anything else. Zack smiled after her while reaching over to pick up the bowl of stew. It had been days since he last ate, and if there was one thing he could not bear to be subjected to, it was the lack of food.

In 15 seconds, half the stew had been polished off and Zack handed the quiet boy the rest. Cloud pushed the tray back towards the all too eager Zack who began wolfing down the rest of the stew in extreme gusto. Cloud watched him intensely, eyes tracing a line from his lips, down his throat, across his chest, down the firm planes of his abdomen...

He blinked away the haze that was starting to fill his mind. This wasn't the time.

--

A thick fist slammed against the oak on the table, tipping over a cup of pens. The soldier in front of the desk immediately ducked down, desperately trying to scoop the pens back into place.

"STOP FIDDLING WITH THOSE THINGS AND START EXPLAINING YOURSELF, BOY."

The soldier snapped to attention, shaking silently in his thick combat boots.

"Th- the subject took down an entire squadron S-Sir," he stuttered, the pens jittering their way out of his palm. "We... We lost him. Sir."

"LOST. HIM." the large man in the suit annunciated. "EXPLAIN TO ME HOW YOU LOSE A FULL GROWN MAN. HE'S NOT EXACTLY A SET OF CAR KEYS."

"My apologies Sir. It won't happen again."

The suit looked up to retarget his glare at the tall slim shadow that had just slunk into the room.

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU."

"Someone who can get you your man."

"WHEN."

"Tomorrow night."