-1Broken Chances

By: Phoenix Dayze and S.J. Kohl

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy Vii and I make no profit from this fic.

Part Eight: Journey

Zack bit back a whimper as he ran a towel over the abused flesh betwen his legs, clearing away water and traces of blood. The cuts were deep. He would have to treat them and wrap them before he got dressed, otherwise the bleeding wouldn't stop. Shaking his head, Zack wound the towel around his hips and left the bathroom. Cloud wouldn't like what he was doing to himself. He knew that, but it didn't stop him from doing it. It was his penance, his payment for breaking his promise, for not getting Cloud to Midgar like he should have. And...it drove away some of the numbness. He could feel the pain. It was sharp and cloying. It reminded him he was still human. He was still alive.

Unlike Cloud. Zack closed his eyes and sank down onto the corner of the bed. I'm sorry, Spike. All those years he'd spent happy and contented, proud of his skill and his contribution to SOLDIER, all those years he'd spent taking pleasure in Cloud's company...he could no longer remember the emotions he'd experienced then. He didn't remember what it felt like to be happy, and he didn't want to remember. Without Cloud...

He jumped as the phone rang, shrill and intrusive. Without Cloud there is no joy. There is only vengeance. Taking a deep breath and wondering who could possibly have found him in this shithole hotel, Zack picked up the receiver. "Zackary Fair."

Silence on the other end of the line.

"Anyone there?"

A sharp click. Then... "I know who killed Specimen C."

Zack's heart stopped beating for a moment. Who the hell was this? "Specimen C?"

"Specimen C. Cloud Strife. I know who killed him." The voice was low and gravelly, like the speaker was trying to disguise his--or her--tone.

Zack didn't bother to ask for any information like "Who are you?" or "How do I know I can believe you?" Those lines never worked on calls like this. Whoever was calling him had an agenda and giving away personal information was not on their list. Instead, he said, "So who is the bastard?"

A long pause. "I can't tell you that."

Zack rolled his eyes and sighed. "So what is this, you just want to gloat that you know more than I do?"

A low chuckle. "Not exactly, Specimen Z. I can't tell you who pulled the trigger, but I can tell you where to find him."

"Oh?" Zack picked up a pen from the table beside his bed, a table that held just the phone and a pad of paper, and set the tip to the back of his left hand. He idly doodled a couple of circles. "And where's that?"

"Nibelheim."

"Great. Guess I don't have much time to chat then. Long journey ahead of me." He wrote "Nibelheim" on his hand in all capital letters. "I don't suppose you'd mind telling me how you became such a font of wisdom?"

Another laugh. "When you've been around as long as I have, information isn't that hard to come by."

"Yeah. Whatever." Zack scrawled "pompous jackass" on his skin. "Catch ya later." He jammed the receiver back down in its bed and shook his head, dark amusement flooding through him. He'd spent five years trying to escape from Nibelheim, and now, more than a year after Cloud's death, he was just going to ride right back in. But what else could he do? He didn't have any better information to go on, and he'd been floundering around since the day that shot rang out, struggling to piece everything together and work out who'd done this to them, who'd ruined their only chance at freedom and happiness. He'd exhausted all the leads Midgar had to throw his way. Maybe it was time to try his luck somewhere else. Who knew, maybe his mysterious caller was right and Cloud's killer really was in Nibelheim. Even if he wasn't, ShinRa Mansion was, and ShinRa Mansion had their files locked away in its basement.

Zack smiled, a cold, cheerless smile. Tossing the pen back onto the table, he leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed a roll of bandages and a tube of antibiotic ointment. It was time to go for a ride.

Tbc…