He had lost track of time so long ago. To long for it to even matter anymore. Day in and day out, just like all the others. How long had they been there?
It didn't matter any longer. All the mattered was just giving up.
And even suicide was beyond his grasp. Here, locked inside this green chamber, filled with gases and drugs. Sometimes he wondered if he was actually himself, or if he was drugged to his ears. And he typically realized, without realizing, that it was the drugs. Though Zack was resistant to them, it didn't do much good. He was still well aware of everything he did, still certain he was carving something into the thin glass of the test tubes, still aware of the floating body in the tube beside him- but it was all vague. Absentminded. As if he were still half asleep.
He wished he were asleep. A nightmare. That's all this had to be.
But the needles shoved into his flesh- the scratches that the pen made when the doctor rubbed it against that harsh paper- all of it was to vivid- in such a blank way- to ever be a dream.
'feeding time…that's our chance…'
He scratched the words carefully, numbly, into the glass with his nails. It was hardly visible, but Zack was positive Cloud could see it. If he didn't-
Well, the blond didn't really need to. Zack would get them out. The both of them. Seeing his best friends body, laying limply against the walls of the tube, head down and eyes shut, broke Zack's heart. He had drug him to this. He had insisted Cloud come along. He had taken him from a safe life- a good life- with Ivy. The woman could have protected him. Zack was positive of that. So…
So why did he drag him away? He hated himself for the very idea. His fingers curled about his shorter, limper hair. It hadn't been up in its spikes for so long. It was funny- but Zack felt that that was a part of him missing. Here, caged away, Zack Flame was nothing but a memory. A vague, useless memory of a person that was. This creature, this thing he hardly recognized when he caught his reflection in the glass, had replaced him.
'I suppose smiles were a limited recourse and I game them all away…Where are all my happy faces? All of Clouds? Thieves, the lot of them. The only thing left in this life for us was one happy moment, and they stole them. Damn them all! I'll kill them-every one if I have to- or die trying.'
Rage filled him. How could they do this to them? Why were they doing this? He didn't understand it!
His fingers gripped the once silken strands of black hair, yanking hard, his face screwed up in anger. Why? Why? He'd stop it. He'd fix it. He'd see one last smile on Clouds face, and his own, if it meant it would be the very last thing he saw.
That would make it all the more grand.
His head jerked up suddenly, sending shocks down his spine. He had heard voices. Footsteps. That damn stairway, spiraling down into this basement hell. Hojo and his little lackeys, come to shove another pin in him. Come to break him.
His eyes shifted over to Cloud, who looked quite dead in his little cell. His chest hardly moved with every breath- sometimes Zack wondered if he were dead. He had thrown a fit or two before, nearly shattering the glass, trying to get to him. Hojo, most likely, had scribbled down sings of insanity on his reports.
He'd give them all insanity. He'd laugh as he killed them all. One by one. Tell them all how wonderful it felt to finally see his pain dying away. To see hell being whisked away to be replaced by heavenly bliss.
He'd show them all…
A light cut across the floor. It never reached him, though. It never did. Not even on the brightest of days, or when the lights were all on. It just was a little to short to hit him. He couldn't breath it in- couldn't feel it. That was something he missed. Light. Real light. Real dawns. The rain. The air.
Fresh air. Not this artificial stuff drenched in drugs. He choked on it every day. He couldn't remember fresh air.
'I wonder if Cloud can…'
He was surprised to see only one shadow moving across the floor. He had sworn there were two voices…
Then again, that hall and stairway echoed a great deal…That, or maybe the professor has taken a detour. There were usually needles to be accompanying their meals.
'At feeding time…That's our chance…'
His eyes glanced again at Cloud, who had hardly moved at all.
'Yes…Finally…I'll get out us of here, Cloud.'
