Soda

by Rin & Court

*~*~*

A/N: We are gods among fangirls, and modest too.

TWENTY PAGES WTF O_O, or at least on Cidspants.

....Yes.

Erin's computer IS, in fact, named Cidspants.

*~*~*

It takes a long time to think and sigh
Why must we wonder
And why must we die
But even as I think of you
And all of my mistakes
I can only shake my head
And think of what we make

*~*~*

9: Delightfully Delirious

*~*~*

Cid, come out of the closet already!

The pilot in question started, jerking his head upwards and knocking it soundly against the wooden dowel upon which his clothes were hung. He whined in pain for a moment, turning around and glaring murderously at his roommate, who was blinking at the blonde with one finger raised precariously in the air.

Cid growled dangerously. Do you want...?

Zack nibbled on his bottom lip, a habit he had acquired whilst staying with Cid, and then proceeded to explain. Um, none of my cords are long enough to plug into your outlet. Yes, Zack had looked into that contest and it turned out he had in fact won, and his prize had been, well, a brand new computer, plus a Nintendo 64. However, that didn't really amount to much if he wasn't able to hook any of it up. But he was betting that Cid would be able to help him get everything turned on.

the black-haired one sighed. You've been in there for a while, now....

Cid blinked back, finally walking out of his bedroom closet and rubbing the spot on his head where he had knocked it against his clothesrack. He gave Zack a dubious look, staring up at him and finally giving out a resignating breath.

Okay, fine, I'll help ya out... He pushed past the porcupine-head and walked towards the junk room. (Somehow, Zack had managed to make enough room for a monitor and computer tower in there, probably the fruit of his cleaning it out in boredom.) The blonde stepped inside, kneeling down and reaching underneath the old extra desk that he'd been glad to get out of his work room and into this one. Uh.... kinda hard to see all the cables under here....

Um, maybe I was plugging it into the wrong place....? Zack tried to add in helpfully.

Cid, suddenly taking on an air of mature professionalism, could be heard rummaging around with the cords underneath the desk. Ungh.... You needed to get the USB cables in a little higher up on this thing.... um... He shifted his position so that he was laying on his back, facing up towards the underside of the desk. There might be a problem with the hub, too.... Hey, kid, could you move the monitor away from the crack between the....

The wall and the desk?

Yeah, that one, to get a little more light down here.

Zack partially climbed on top of the desk to move the monitor away. That good? he asked, doing his best to be helpful so that he wouldn't be berated by the older man.

A little more----

Like that?

Yeah----yeah, that's good... Cid shifted his body once more, and then he paused. There was a sudden jerk from underneath the table, and a grunt of exasperation from the blonde.

Found the problem, he grumbled. You didn't jam the damn cord in fucking hard enough!

Zack turned away, arms crossed. Well, they obviously must have given me one with a bad design, because I've never had trouble plugging in anything before...

Cid sighed, pulling himself out from under the desk and rubbing his hands off on each other. I still say you're still a damn tech illiterate... I bet I could build one of those things if I got half the chance.

Zack retorted, looking away. I don't see you going and---

However, his verbal counter was cut short when Cid brought a hand to his face and sneezed.

The other blinked. Bless you, he said once, and then another time when his roommate sneezed again. Bless you! Um.... you all right?

Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Cid glared back, rubbing his reddened nose and marching towards the door, eyes wandering around the room. Prob'ly just the dust in this place... How can you sleep in such a damn dump?!

Zack shouted back, heading after the blonde with an angry expression upon his countenance. Who's the one who made this place a dump' in the first place, huh?!?!

*~*~*

Cid yelled, the volume of his voice a product of both his anger and the sound of the rain pouring down onto the streets around him. One hand was held above his head in a hopeless attempt to protect his hair from the downfall, but so far, it was a futile cause. What're you fucking talkin' about; that was the last line?!'

I mean exactly what I said, Sir, a huffy, female Shin-Ra guard said at the train stop, turning away from a moment to blow the whistle around her neck and shoo away a few children that were playing on the tracks, waving around umbrellas fanatically. She turned back towards the pilot, a frustrated expression on her face from underneath the poncho that she had obviously had better foresight to put on. And there's no reason to be nasty about it, either! Nine o'clock the closing time for all of the train stops on Monday! At the surprised look that betrayed the man's ignorance of such matters, she sighed. Don't you ever use the public transportation system? On a more malicious note, she added:

No, not really. Cid admitted inwardly. At the understanding smirk on the guard's face, he scowled and made an attempt to explain himself, albeit indignantly. Listen, lady: I usually take my car home, but my roommate was really getting on my fuckin' nerves about needing playing some stupid-ass video game, so I let him drive---

You share a car with your roommate? The woman arched an eyebrow dubiously.

Just-----Oh, fuck it all!!! The blonde seemed to realize that the conversation was going absolutely nowhere and turned away, storming off into the storm, so to speak.

I'll-----I'll kill the little---- He paused, hands rigid beside him as suddenly sneezed again.

And again.

And again.

He wiped his nose with the back of his hands and continued his march.

That little fucktard had better be enjoying his damn game... The furious Cid growled low and long.

*~*~*

"STUPID QUEEN GOHMA!" A yell echoed throughout the entire apartment amid the sound of rain pitter-pattering outside, for at this moment, Zack was perched on the couch, leaned in dangerously close to the television (to the point that he was on the verge of falling off and hit his head on the coffee table), teeth grit in grim determination, eyes fully concentrating on the green-clad pixelated character running around the screen, attempting to shoot an oversized spider with a little pea-shooter of a slingshot. "Come on, Link! Get 'er! Go, go!" Oblivious to the rest of the world, Zack had forgotten how much he loved video games. "NO! STUPID NAVI!"

The sound of Zack throwing down the controller in frustration coincided with the slam of the front door being kicked opened (the black-haired one was beginning to think that it was utterly impossible for Cid to do anything in a nonviolent way), and the owner of the apartment stumbled in, shivering and soaked to the bone. Zack froze, staring at the pilot who seemed more like a seafarer at the moment and wincing at the squelching sound that his shoes made whenever he took a step. Cid opened his mouth, turning around to close the door, and about to yell something profane at the younger of the two when he suddenly tensed.

He sneezed, once, twice, and Zack winced. His roommate had been sniffling a little all through the day, but now that Cid turned around and spoke with a half-congested voice, he realized that his unexplained trek through the downpour had caused it to worsen.

"Youb knowb bif web hab any tissueb?" Cid said, trying his best to hold in anything else that might come flying out of his nose, and thankfully, forgetting his anger at Zack and instead focusing his attention on getting himself cleaned up.

The younger one slowly looked back at the Game Over screen, giving it a stare of utter defeat before turning to face his roommate. "Tissue? Why would I have tissue? This is your apartment, and I never get sick, anyhow." Realizing that these game-frustration-induced words sounded sort of harsh, especially with the state the man seemed to be in, Zack peeled himself off of the couch and began to look around. "I think I saw some around, though. If worst comes to worst, you can just use toilet paper, right?" He smiled as brightly as he could before prowling through the apartment in search of tissue. In any case, I think you're more in need of some dry towels than anything else... Err.... How bad are you feeling?"

"Nob... bad...... enoub...." Cid staggered into the bathroom, grabbing the roll of toilet paper from its holder and blowing his nose in it furiously. Finally he stopped, sniffing a few times before blinking and going back into the main area. Zack was about to make a comment about how Cid was dripping water all over the place but pursed his lips and made the wise decision to stay silent.

"See, all better," the blonde gave a strained smile before blowing his nose again and holding the roll as he hastily made his way back into the bathroom. "Anyway, I can't let a damn cold stop me from work.... Gonna take a shower and get back to the grindstone" He scrunched his eyes closed, stopping for a moment. "So close...."

He looked back to Zack, donning his usual frown. "What've you done since you left the office? Play that thing?!" He nodded towards the console.

A single eyebrow was raised at the workaholic, but Zack shrugged it off. He figured the guy knew how far he could push himself, and so he wasn't going to linger on the matter any longer, (though he did feel kind of bad about the pestering that he had given Cid, seeing as how the other had ultimately ended up....) Pacing back towards the television screen, still decorated with that Game Over screen that seemed to be mocking him, he sighed and turned for a second to answer Cid's prying questions. "Yep, that's about it. I'm just at the beginning, though! First dungeon, but this Boss is giving me a hard time..." He scratched at his head, already forming new battle plans.

"But I know you don't like video games, so I'll just leave you to your work," he finished with a nod, hoping that the blonde wouldn't get mad at him for enjoying such a great time while he had ended up being so... well, miserable.

And surprisingly enough, Cid didn't say anything, instead slinking to the door and closing it along with the sound of the lock being turned.

Shrugging, Zack settled back into the small indentation he had already started to make in the couch after sitting in it so often, lifting up the purple-colored controller and pressing the designated button that would allow him to try again. "All right, gonna get that spider, she can't do anything to me..." he told himself with a growl. A small part of him was a tad worried about Cid, mainly because he could hear his sneezing and some light coughing coming from the other room. Whenever Zack got near to sick, he made sure he rested before it could start to spread and worsen, but Cid seemed to be planning to work even harder as if to make up for the fact that his performance might be lowered by his sickness -- not a good idea, but Zack didn't want to get into any unnecessary arguments.

"All right, I can do this..." he grinned, setting the controller in his lap for a moment in order to rub his hands together, as if for good luck. Spotting a blotch of black in the corner of his eye, he glanced over to see Bronco pad over and then lay down underneath the coffee table. "Wanna watch me kick some spider ass, doggie? Huh? Yes, you do, you know you do..." he cooed, scratching the black Labrador behind the ears and then grasping the controller and preparing for major spider whoopings.

*~*~*

"I'll get you, Jabu-Jabu... I'll get you right... right in the kisser..." came the inane mumblings of the hedgehog-haired boy that had been playing too much Zelda. Zack shifted in his sleep, obviously having some sort of dream or nightmare, and eventually he shot up in his cot, yelling, "NO, NOT THE JELLYFISH!" Panting and wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he moved groggily from his makeshift bed and placed feet on the cold floor. "Mmf... man, I stayed up too late last night playing... gonna be so beat at work..."

Wait.

What time is it? Why hasn't Cid come to wake me up yet? Blinking in confusion, he dragged himself out of the room only to find that the rest of the apartment was brightly lit by merely the light of the sun. "Isn't it Tuesday today?" he asked himself with a frown of confusion. He decided to move to Cid's bedroom and see if he had left without him.

Upon opening the door, he discovered his Queen-sized bed was empty, but he wasn't convinced. After all, there was no signs of him ever having woken up -- no tea cups left out or anything like that.

"Maybe...?" He closed the bedroom door and then migrated to Cid's work room, and this time he found Cid sleeping soundly with his head rested on his desk -- and snoring rather nasally, at that. He inched his way over to the man and then proceeded to poke at his side. "Um, Cid? Cid, don't we have to go into work today?"

"I'b tired," Cid grumbled, still asleep. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, inching away from the area where Zack had poked him. "I duh banna go to schoolb...."

Stuffed up again. Oh, boy... Though Zack remained persistent, grabbing both of the man's shoulders with either hand and shaking him rather roughly. "Come on, get up! It's late! Unless you want to call in sick or something..." In fact, that sounded rather tempting, now that he thought of it.

"Uhb...?" Cid opened his eyes, which looked unhealthily bloodshot, towards Zack, blinking slowly before he suddenly shot up from his seat, tense and shaking slightly. His face was a bit pale and he had dark circles under said eyes. "DABBIT Zack, how bate dib I sleeb ib?!?!"

Zack took a quick jump back. "Uhh... I dunno! I just woke up right now!" He started searching rabidly for a clock until he remembered they didn't have one in this room. "But... uh... you don't look so good, Cid..." he mused, examining the blonde with a critical eye. "Maybe you should call in sick."

"Nob, nob, nob, nob, NOB!!!!" Cid yelled, pausing a moment to snatch up his roll of toilet paper (half of it was now gone...) and blowing his nose. He began grabbing up all the stuff from his desk frantically, throwing it all into his big briefcase and then slamming it shut. "If I look like I don't give a damn now, they'll never give a fuck whether I get there or not!!!"

Zack simply stared at him and watched for a few moments in shock. "Um... wait, what are you talking about?" In a way this whole situation was rather amusing, mainly how strange Cid sounded with his nose so congested. And then how it magically cleared up once he blew it a few times. Well, not magically, but... the transition from one to the other put Zack in giggles -- well, restrained giggles, since he doubted Cid wanted to hear him snickering when he was about to have a stroke.

At this point, however, Cid seemed to be talking to himself, almost deliriously, as he opened the front door. "They'll never let me... no.... they won't.... dammit...." He murmured to himself, suddenly stopping at the door, one hand holding onto the doorknob and the other onto his briefcase.

Suddenly, in one swift motion, he dropped the case, fell to his knees, and sat there, breathing hard.

Zack trailed after the man as he rushed to the door and was about to remind him that he was still in his clothing from the day before, not to mention he had not brushed his teeth or dealt with his bed hair when a collapse to the floor chased away all of that. He rushed over, taking his briefcase away and putting it to the side, then placing his palm upon the man's forehead. Mako-glazed eyes widened. DAMN, you're hot!

Cid blinked upwards in a daze, suddenly lethargic and with a puzzled expression on his face.

I mean – you have an amazingly high temperature – um – yeah, Zack blinked, pulling his roommate upwards.

Cid looked, and began to grumble to himself, trying to pull himself away from the taller man and attempting to bend down to pick up the briefcase once more. I gotta go I gotta He fell down once more, breathing worse this time as his eyes darted around frantically. You don't understand I He drew a sharp breath and clutched at his abdomen, gasping and shutting his eyes in pain.

Zack's eyes were filled with concern as he witnessed his friend breaking into a sweat. No, you're gonna kill yourself! he barked sternly, throwing the briefcase out of Cid's reach so he wouldn't go fumbling for it again. Come on, we need to get you to a bed. He slid his arms under the man's back and then pulled him up altar-style, carrying him over to his bedroom that was fortunately nearby.

Pulling back the covers and burying Cid under them (he was hoping to sweat the fever out, not to mention Cid was getting chills), Zack then rushed off to get some things. He soon returned with a glass of water, a cold cloth that he immediately placed on his forehead and a fresh roll of toilet paper. I should probably run to the store and get some proper tissue and some stuff to make chicken soup. Granted, Zack didn't know how to make chicken soup, but there were firsts for everything. Call work, too

Cid was fairly silent, aside from weak mutterings of protest as Zack picked him up and plopped him in the bed. Finally, as the word work' came forth in Zack's speech, he sat up, shaking slightly. No – I'm not a fucking INVALID!

Well, you are right now I mean, look at how you're shaking! You can't even stand! Zack placed both hands on his hips, examining Cid with a scrutinizing eye. This started because you were working too hard, running around in the rain like that, and I'm not going to let you continue to push yourself like this, so LAY DOWN. A growl formed in the back of his throat.

Cid grit his teeth, glaring at his roommate with tired eyes before he finally, albeit slowly, laid back down, resting his head back into the pillow and closing his lids as he shivered and burrowed under the covers. he grumbled half-coherently. I need some tea

Zack blinked. tea? he squeaked. It couldn't be that hard – after all, he'd seen Cid make it tons of times before. All right. I'll be right back, okay? Making sure Cid had admitted defeat, he left for the kitchen.

*~*~*

It was about ten minutes later when Zack came back, holding a steaming cup of tea carefully in both hands. He placed it slowly upon Cid's bedside table, then saying sheepishly, I hope it's okay. I've never made tea before, so He eyed Cid for a few moments. A-anyways, I should head off for the store. He was scared to see what Cid's reaction to the tea would be.

There was a moment of silence (Cid's back was facing Zack) until the pilot rolled over, face looking even worse than before and a sadly confusion expression was on his face. I'm cold

Oh boy. Cid seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into the sickness After a moment of contemplation, he picked up the mug and held it towards the blonde. He doubted Cid had much strength to yell at him anyway, so maybe now was a good time to offer the concoction.

The pilot looked up at it dubiously for a moment until he slowly pulled himself up, wincing. Zack noticed the small pile of used toilet paper tissue-substitutes on top of the covers and made a mental note that he should move the trash can in the bathroom next to Cid's bed.

Gimme that, Cid muttered grumpily. He snatched it up as best he could and slowly put it to his lips, closing his eyes as he slowly drank it.

His eyes snapped open and he looked up at his roommate with eyes that were now half-aware. This is the best damn tea I've ever had.

Zack blinked a few times in astonishment at Cid's reply after talking a sip of the drink. He stared for a few moments, trying to find some rational explanation for why anything he tried to make in the kitchen would taste good, when he realized what the deal must have been. "Oh, you're just saying that so I don't feel bad, aren't ya'?" It didn't really seem like something Cid would do, but hey, people tended to act differently when they were sick. He just couldn't believe that it tasted good, much less that it was the best Cid had ever had. After all, he was sure he'd had tons of different kinds of teas made by different people -- that his would be the best? Nah.

"Ya don't believe me?!" Cid growled, beginning a cough that he had to try his best to keep inside his chest so as to not splash the hot liquid all over himself. He did sound a little delirious, but not enough to outright lie about Zack's tea-brewing skills. "It's like.... the same as my favorite... but...." He narrowed his eyes and took another sip." Fine, then----just----Jus' keep it coming...."

Well, no point in arguing over it. Seemed he really meant it, and Zack actually could do something of worth in the kitchen. He considered mentioning the special ingredient he had added in, but decided against it. "Whatever you say," he responded, then exiting the room yet again, returning in a few minutes with another cup, some blankets that he draped over Cid since he had complained of being cold, and that trash can he liberated from the bathroom. "Okay, I should really head for the store now. You gonna be okay by yourself?"

"Yeah, yeah," Cid grumbled, waving the well-meaning youth away with a free hand as he clutched the handle of his mug with the other. The tea seemed to have rejuvenated him somewhat. He glared up at his roommate, using the free hand to pull the blankets on his back together over his chest. "What? You think I'm gonna fucking die on you or something?!" He looked away. "Don't like getting any damn help as it is...."

Well, sorry for trying! Zack hissed, leaving the room, grabbing a his jacket in case it was raining again, and then making his way outside. He returned an hour later with tissue (the super-soft kind), a few cans of chicken soup, some coke, a few.... stimulating magazines, and some medicine. However, Cid was by this time sound asleep from the sound of his loud snores, which gave Zack the liberty (after calling the ol' workplace) to enjoy a day off.

*~*~*

Things were vague, in strange shapes and abstract colors that blended together and made his vision a gigantic blur. He could tell he had been crying----he could feel the ache of sobs in his throat and the dryness that followed tears in his eyes. He seemed fine, now, though, sitting down on the the bottom step of the porch, knees held close to his chest and his chin resting low, trying to remember anything that would make him forget about this.

The silence was eerie, and so was the emptiness. He could hear nothing besides the wind on his cheek and the breaths in his chest. One-two, one-two. If he focused hard enough on that, he could chase everything else away. One-two, one-two.

The sound of something approaching from far away broke the silence, and he took his time to raise his head, eyes strangely apathetic. Against the glare of the sun, he could see two helicopters approaching, both with the Shin-Ra Medical Unit's insignia on them; the normal logo superimposed over a red cross. The boy stood up, and began to walk into the road and down the street, towards the field outside of town, ignoring the start of a stagnant stench hanging in the air.

He reached the grassy plain, clothes and hair whipped around his form as he watched the choppers slowly descend, and paramedics in spacesuits pile out. One of the identical spacemen raced towards him while the others headed towards the small town's main street. The boy was able to make out a woman's face behind the plastic face covering, and she peered at him subjectively, as if he was covered with black and blue splotches or at least red with fever.

The sick? The woman asked matter-of-factly, whipping a clipboard out from somewhere behind her and clumsily taking hold of a pen through the thick gloves of the anticontaminant suit. She positioned it above a wad of formatted paper, ready to take down any kind of notes. We're going to need to know where they are, how long the symptoms are lasting, names----

Why weren't you here yesterday? The boy asked, no sign of emotion in him save for the fists clenched at his sides.

The Gongaga area's power lines went down-----communication wasn't possible until a few hours----

the boy shook his head slowly, his words careful. I sent the message yesterday, they picked up the line.

Sir, you obviously got the automated voice service which is designated to this area. Our medical team didn't know about the situation until the lines were back up again. An annoyed expression on her face, she peered back down at the clipboard and repeated her question. Now, where are those who are ill? They're going to need attention immediately, from the symptoms described thus far.

The boy looked up at her with dead eyes.

No one's sick.

The woman's voice turned into a growl, and she began to scribble the date and time in the upper right-hand corner of the paper. Sure, sure, no one's sick if you want to put it that way----where are the townsfolk, then?

He continued looking up, his cold expression turning into an annoyed one.

Here. I'm right here. Are you blind?!

The woman looked down at him, blinking. He really couldn't be that young-----a teenager, probably. What do you mean?

The boy's expression began to mirror that of a demon as he raised a hand and pointed towards the large collection of buildings that made up the small town.

If you'd been here yesterday, this never would have happened.

One of the spacemen shouted, racing towards the woman as quickly as one in a cumbersome bodysuit possibly could. He finally reached them, huffing and wheezing. You have to see this----I've never seen anything like this-----the disease---horrible internal bleeding-----we think originating from the heart or the aorta----

What are you saying? growled the nurse, forgetting about the kid completely.

They're.... they're all dead... The spaceman managed to gasp out.

The woman whirled around in shock towards the boy, but by then he was gone, running far away over the spring-green hills with hot tears stinging his eyes.

*~*~*

Zack awoke with a start, the remnants of his dream clinging to the walls of his mind like blood to the edge of a knife. Something about it---something had seemed so incredibly real that it couldn't be described in words, and the pain and loss that the boy was feeling---was it him?---seemed to be tearing at his very heart....

Those fields----they really had looked like the ones near his hometown.

Zack attempted to store the dream away in a place where he could retrieve it at his leisure and look over later, but pieces of the images that had once been so clear were already beginning to fall from his memory and into the uncharted waters of his subconscious.

He looked around, and with panting breaths, saw he had fallen asleep on the couch -- the previous day had been spent playing Zelda and checking in on Cid every hour or so, who remained docile, sleeping most of the day. If he was awake, or Zack had woken him up by accident when looking in, he'd just ask for more tea or water. But Zack really should have been watching over him during the night, making sure he was okay, since Cid probably wasn't even able to get up and walk over had he needed something, and so Zack quickly brushed off his sleep (along with the mind-jarring dream---or could it be classified as a nightmare?) and rushed for the bedroom.

With a quick glance at the clock on his way there, however, he saw it was about three in the morning. That dream, becoming more abstract and hazy as the seconds ticked by, must have been bad enough to wake him up even at this God-forsaken hour. As soon as he got near to the door (closed to help Cid sleep in darkness) he heard the sick man muttering incoherently in his sleep, grumbling, even whimpering at some points. Zack was afraid to go in for a moment, one hand held tentatively on the doorknob, until he heard a loud whump, followed by a cry of pain, and then he rushed into the room.

Cid was at this point curled up on the floor, arms pulled in to his chest, head bowed, legs trying to find some room under the small blanket he had pulled off the bed with him. It was obvious he was awake, though attempting to fall back asleep. Zack hissed to himself, bounding over and quickly pulling Cid back onto his bed. What happened?

No... no... no... Cid whispered, voice hoarse and half-slurred as Zack heaved him upwards. As the youth eased him down onto the bed once more Cid's head suddenly snapped upwards, eyes wide and frantic as he stared towards Zack. The black-haired youth stared back, surprised. He'd never seen an expression quite like that on Cid's face.

What are you doin' here?! he said quickly, panicked. His eyes darted down towards the hands on his shoulders, and he jerked away, whipping an arm towards Zack. Don't TOUCH me.

Zack felt himself freezing up. Something about Cid's actions and his words affected him much more than they ever had before. There was so much hate in his tone, he almost sounded scared of him. Zack felt both arms fall to his side lifelessly. The next Get away from me! from Cid was hardly even heard as he turned around and made his way for the door. He doesn't need you for anything... he whispered softly to himself.

I just... Cid suddenly seemed weaker, and he fell back into the pillows, the previously whipped arm still outstretched towards his roommate as his eyes half-closed. I don't... want to... he trailed off with a sharp intake of breath, ...want to... his body suddenly went limp.

Zack stood in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at Cid, who was obviously in pain, and he balled his fists. Stop trying to help someone who doesn't want you near them. Still, a part of him -- that stubborn, caring self -- couldn't just leave him there. He should have been gone a while ago, but he was still standing there, torn. He never wanted you here in the first place. He can take care of himself. He wasn't so sure of that, though.

...Maybe I should just leave. For... good.

Cid shivered in his half-sleep, pulling his crumpled covers further around himself. Anyone... they're hurting.... he mumbled in a near-incoherent slur, and then he was silent.

Well, someone else could take care of Cid, right? Yeah, Zack didn't need to be there any longer. Then he realized that Cid didn't have anyone to watch over him -- he didn't have much for friends, at least as far as he knew. He rubbed his eyes, sighing. I'm such a softie. He slowly inched closer to the bed, watching Cid carefully. You're scared of a sick man? Cid sneezed and opened his eyes slightly, fully spaced out.

Cid? Cid, you okay? he questioned meekly, leaning a little closer to the bedridden one. Cid groaned and looked at him through glazed eyes. I don't feel so go-- Those same eyes widened as he leaned over the side of the bed to hurl into the trashcan.

Zack instinctively jumped back to assure he didn't get any of the vomit on him. he murmured after Cid had finished, approaching the trashcan and peering in. he quickly set to taking the bag, though grudgingly, to the kitchen to put with the main trash deposit there, which he would take out later. Grabbing a fresh bag and returning to Cid's room, he put it onto the small trashcan and then looked over at his roommate. Hey, you all right?

Cid coughed several times, eyes shut tightly as he attempted to grope at the tissue box and bring a wad of it to his mouth. So far, he'd managed to clean up most of it from his face and chin.

Do I look... like it? Cid asked. Zack couldn't tell if the other was being facetious or not. The pilot looked up pathetically at his roommate and said in a rather quiet, shaky voice: I need to clean my mouth.

Zack ignored the possibly sarcastic statement and instead focused on how to fulfill such a request -- after all, when he asked in that tone, like a little helpless kid, what else could he do? He stepped closer to the bed and slowly moved his hands under Cid's arms, then helping him up into a sitting position. He ordered him to slide his legs off the bed and onto the floor, then he grasped both of his hands and lifted him to his feet with a, One, two, three! Once that was accomplished, the youth stood at Cid's right side and wrapped his left arm around his shoulders for support. He then took Cid's right hand gingerly with his free one, and finally, they began to take careful steps out of the bedroom and across the hall to the bathroom. The blonde had a rather disgruntled look on his face through all of this, but there didn't seem to be much he could do about it, and he was too disoriented and all-around sick to try to resist. Cid scrunched his eyes up and leaned forward at the putrid, acidic taste in his mouth. He tried to remember when the last time he had thrown up had been.

His thoughts were interrupted by the cold feeling of linoleum upon the soles of his feet, which must have been pretty icy since he managed to sense the low temperature even through his perpetually-worn socks. He raised his head, blearily making out the outline of the sink in front of him, then vaguely felt himself wrestle out of Zack's helping grasp and stagger towards the faucet, which he turned on with a yank. He proceeded to bend over and rinse his mouth out, spitting intermittently, and refused to acknowledge the abstract nagging at the back of his mind...

Zack stood at the doorway, back pressed against the frame as he waited for Cid to finish his business. He was aware of what a yucky experience it was to throw up, and therefore didn't have a problem with Cid taking as much time as he needed to expel the putrid taste, that horrible after-feeling. He suddenly felt cold, frowning as he pulled down the sleeves of Cid's blue jacket that he always wore now to cover his bare forearms.

I didn't think to get any medicine to deal with vomiting... didn't think it'd go that far. He bowed his head, staring at the tiled floor. I can go out to the store and get some now. Oh, and I should try to make some of that soup. He felt surprisingly mellow, that dejected feeling persisting. Even with Cid so pitiful like this, in a state that Zack was sure he hated, having to be doted on, he still had the power to make Zack feel...

Feel what?

I don't know. It's not important. He's not even in the right state of mind right now. In fact, it was probably just his shock of being woken up so quickly without a chance to compose himself.

And you should take some of that other stuff I got for ya yesterday, Zack continued outwardly, though I think it's supposed to be taken on a full stomach. Except... I don't think that's going to be too manageable, considering you weren't even able to keep tea and water down.

Cid turned off the faucet, eyes closed as he breathed a few times, tight grip on the edge of the sink with both hands. The nagging was gone now, replaced with the realization that his hurling had caused him to feel a little better, even if it was barely noticeable and he knew it wouldn't last long. When Zack's words finally registered, he slowly pulled his head up, opening his exhausted eyes and staring blankly at his roommate a few seconds before responding.

It's okay, he managed to breathe out, somehow balancing himself on his feet and staggering back into his room. He sat down on the side of the bed, holding his head in one of his hands. I..... it's not worth all the damn effort. Slowly, he eased himself back into the tangle of sheets once more and curled up. Not..... It's okay. Don't worry about... He trailed off. ....Jus' don't worry...

Zack followed the pilot back into the room, watching him carefully to make sure that he didn't fall over or anything, and he was rather impressed when he made it back safely on his own. However, Cid's somewhat inane ramblings worried him a bit. Repeating himself as if he didn't remember what he had just said. He knew what that was like.

Delirious? It sure seems like it. Or maybe that's where this is heading towards...

Canting his head to the side, he continued to watch the other for a few more moments, examining his motions, his thrashing and struggling as he tried to fall asleep again. Nearing the bed again, he kneeled down at the edge of it, not daring to touch him as he had before. Can't sleep, can you? I bet it's even hard to think, to form words, to process thoughts... He understood how it felt to be helpless like that. Shifting so that he could lean his back against the side of the bed, legs sprawled out in front of him, he sighed. Sorry, Cid, but I get the feeling it's gonna be a long day.

Cid tossed a couple of times and settled, his back turned towards Zack. He muttered. It's like.... like.... His left hand came up slowly, resting on the bandage between his temple and his eyebrow that Zack still hadn't seen him take off. The pilot rubbed it slightly and then stopped, turning his body back towards the kid, hair mussed up and a weary look upon his countenance. You ain't leaving.....? He frowned, growling before the ex-SOLDIER could come up with a response. Don't. Dun wanna be..... no. He closed his eyes and relaxed back down.

Zack blinked. Well, you told me not to go, right? And I figure I may as well look after you since I kind of ignored you yesterday. And you're probably not going to get any sleep; just try and stay still and at least rest your body, all right? I... I won't go anywhere. He lifted his knees up and rested his arms on them, then pushing his head back into the soft mattress, sighing softly.

Cid was silent for at least a minute before he gave out a long breath.



The youth responded, tilting his head back a tad.

The sheets rustled slightly, and a few more seconds passed by.



Zack exhaled quietly in amusement. No need to thank me. It's... what friends are for, am I right? He glanced over his shoulder at the blonde and winked. Just a favor, that's all. Hey... are you sure you don't want any soup? For some reason Zack was under the impression that soup would not upset his stomach and send Cid into a vomiting rage yet again, coupled with the sentiment that he needed to do something more than simply sitting there.

I'm.... don't worry, Cid repeated. He seemed to realize how sappy this whole scene was beginning to become and forced his hoarse voice into a growl, although there wasn't much conviction or malice in it. Don't you understand a damn word I say? I don't need anything....

All right, all right, Zack assured him. Then why'd you tell me not to go, huh? It wasn't really the time to actually express such thoughts, however, to play on the poor man's emotions while he was sick. He just didn't understand why Cid kept changing things, saying one thing at one point and then completely denying it the next. He realized he was partially delirious at the moment, but he did it other times, too. It was as if... he felt like he had opened up too much and had to be coarse and callous in order to make up for it.

What are you trying to hide? The words escaped from his mouth before he could do anything to stop them and he quickly turned around to face Cid, shaking his head. Sorry, I... I didn't mean that. Just thinking too hard.

Before Cid could make any sort of response, Zack got to his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. You know what? I'm being more of a hindrance of anything. Just, uhh, call you if you need me, all right? He spun around and started his reluctant march towards the door, back to bed. Cid didn't say anything, and so the porcupine-head left, glad he wasn't fearing the other's wrath, and never seeing the blonde reach slowly towards his right foot.

*~*~*

It was only the next morning that Zack had the courage to enter the room that smelled of sickness, that stagnant smell uncomfortably strong -- of sweat and blood and tears not shed. Of fever and vomit and things kept inside. Of thoughts that return only when the mind is so weakened it can't keep them back anymore. All of this in one aroma, one odor, but Zack knew it all just the same. He said he hardly ever got sick, but illness was similar to other things that could happen to a person. I should really change his sheets today. Not healthy to sleep in your own sickness.

Cid laid sprawled out over the covers, and as Zack approached cautiously, he saw that he was breathing low and long, his eyes were closed. The porcupine-head breathed out a sigh of relief. Maybe he wouldn't have to deal with an awake Cid after---

What is it? Cid said in a monotone, moving nothing more than his lips. And what time? I can't move a damn muscle... With effort, he managed to open one eye and stare up at his roommate, expressionless, (which was something rather scary, coming from Cid himself.)

And could I have some water?

Zack nodded, silent for a moment. Uh, sure. And it's about seven in the morning now... he said drearily, sleep still clinging to him a bit. He made his way for the door for the umpteenth time, only sparing a second to look back. Is... that all?

Cid closed his eye, racking his brains for a moment, before opening it again. Yeah. One more thing.... He managed to shift his left arm slightly. Bronco... she needs a walk.

Zack stared at him dumbly for a moment. Wh... what? Come to think of it, he had never once seen the owner of the dog take her out when nature called; then he realized he must have done so in the early hours of the morning before Cid came to wake him up. And that reminded him of something else. Lately... well, Cid hadn't been waking him up like he had before. He had said something along the lines of, You need to be responsible and get up your own damn self! when the younger of the two had inquired about it. But that was besides the point.

Err... okay. For how long? And where's her leash?

Just.... around the block or somethin'.... Cid sighed, still motionless. Her leash is.... hanging off the hook near the door.... and the bags are under the sink.

Zack was about to ask why he would need bags when it hit him like a brick. Dogs, they, you know, tended to excrete certain wastes when they went out for a walk, and those wastes would need to be picked up. He made a face, considered protesting until he realized that Cid had him on a short leash, practically, since he simply couldn't say no to someone when they were in such misery and thus complied.

....All right. He sighed, heading for the kitchen to retrieve the bags and get Cid a glass of water, then proceeded to change into some warmer clothes (kept the jacket, of course; he hardly took the thing off, after all) before revealing himself to the cold morning.

Finding the leash, he whistled the dog over, who was very happy to see that someone was walking her, since she had been forced to hold it for far too long as it was. He bent down to clip the leash onto her red collar, and once he was satisfied with that, led her out the door, down the hallway, and then finally down the stairs until he reached the doors leading out of the complex.

*~*~*

I'm back, Zack muttered as he stepped back inside, unleashing the dog and then throwing the item to the floor as he dragged his feet back into Cid's room. Bronco had run in there ahead of him, excited after the walk, and was now jumping on the bed and licking at Cid's face happily. Zack smiled softly. You know, she's the cutest thing, but picking up after her is not pl---

He then realized that Cid looked even worse than before.

he said, his tone serious as he stepped forward and reached his hand out towards the man, as if he could heal him merely by wishing for it to be so. Hey. What's wrong? His roommate was sweating harder now, his sheets soaked with it, and it was almost as if he didn't hear Zack, staring blankly at the ceiling. Bronco had by this point moved away and was quickly making her way out of the room, whining.

The pilot's eyes were wide, pupils small and body rigid. His voice was strange, as if it belonged to someone far off and not his own self.

I couldn't save her, he uttered quietly.

Zack stopped in place, staring in surprise at him through Mako-tinted oculars. Both of his hands clenched subconsciously as he stood there and listened to the now entirely delirious man relive his worst memories. Everything comes back to haunt you. When you're at your weakest, when you don't think you can make it... that's when they seep in and twist you into pieces.

Zack's teeth were grit in anger with himself and he fell to the ground, ramming his fist into the carpet. he whispered. There was nothing he could do now but wait for his friend to finish his walk through all those unwanted places.

She said she'd fly. Cid closed his eyes, fists clenching and teeth grit. I couldn't stop her-----I------if I was quicker-------she's not moving.... Stop it------no, I'll fly-------fly for her, I'll do it-------move-----move, dammit-------no one-------me------I'm here----by myself-----don't touch me--------!!!!

As Cid continued, babbling and raving, spewing out words Zack shouldn't have been hearing, didn't want to hear because he knew they were his deepest secrets, and no one should be forced into expelling such things, he stood, doing his best to block out what Cid was saying, and he made his way closer to the bed. Oh God, I could have prevented this, if I had just taken better care of him...

His fists uncurled and were placed strongly upon each of Cid's shoulders. He was almost surprised that his skin didn't burn him, scald him; he was definitely hot with the uncontrollable fever, but for some reason Zack had been expecting him to be boiling. Blood boiling.

he yelled, shaking him back and forth, anything to try and snap him out of this. He couldn't bear to see him like this; it was so different from any other parts of Cid he had seen, and frankly, it was scaring him. Maybe the way he acts around me most of the time, maybe that's just a cover-up...

But it's better than this.

 Cid gasped, snapping out of it and clutching at his chest with his good hand, gripping the comforter of the bed with the other. He stared down at the foot of the bed, breathing painfully hard, before his eyes darted towards Zack and he yanked the collar of his caretaker's shirt towards him, face contorted and eyes wild with anger and.... fear....?

What did I say? He managed to get out between erratic gasps, gripping the fabric so tightly that his knuckles began to turn white. When Zack didn't answer for a moment, too shocked for a response, Cid brought up his other hand as well, pulling him so close that their noses nearly touched, and there was something frigteningly violent in his sky-blue eyes that now seemed a little more akin to red. What the HELL did I say, ZACK?!?

Zack shook his head, pulling his arms up to clamp over his ears. No, no, I tried not to listen! I didn't want to hear it, I didn't want to, Cid... He continued to shake his head, and wanted to get out of that grasp that was astonishingly strong considering the man's weakness. Something about flying, and... that's all I heard. He nodded vigorously after that, to make sure that Cid knew he was telling the truth. I promise... I did my best not to listen...

The rage was still there, and the pilot panted and breathed hard for a few seconds before he finally seemed to realize what he was doing and he let go of his roommate, leaving him to fall back into the covers. He stared at the other, as if what he had just done hadn't finished registering in his brain, and continued to do so, even as his now-empty hands untensed and slowly fell to his sides.

Zack laid there, having been half-pulled onto the bed by the madman, and was busy trying to calm his abnormal breathing. He was terrified. Many times before Cid had taken his anger out on the midnight-haired one, but this had been the only time that it had seemed real, like he really hated him with every inch of his soul. A knot in his stomach tightened, and he buried his head into the yellow, sickly covers, ignoring the smell and the dampness of the sweat it had just recently been bathed in. Once he got his breathing under control, he lifted himself up and started to slide off of the bed, doing his best not to look at Cid.

The other seemed to be doing the same, putting his head in both of his hands, covering his eyes as if in an effort to avoid Zack's fearful stare. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, instead sitting and waiting for the other man to fully leave the room.

Neither said a word, and though he tried as much as he could to fulfill his promise and forget about everything that the pilot had said, Zack couldn't help but wonder who really was.

*~*~*

Things were better the next morning.

Zack was first woken up by the sound of running water, which he eventually determined was the shower, but he was still too enveloped in his sleep to move or see what was happening. A little while later he heard footsteps echoing throughout the apartment; slow and steady. After that came the whistling of the tea kettle, and he finally decided he should haul himself off of the cot and out of the room, despite the fact that his body still ached for sleep.

Rolling off of the creaky thing and onto the floor, he traveled the short distance to the door and then made a meek exit into the rest of the apartment. He surreptitiously inched into the kitchen, where he saw Cid standing, back turned, at the counter. He was at a loss for words, and instead remained standing there in his half-asleep stupor.

The pilot's movements paused, and he turned around, blinking, half a cookie in his mouth. He was garbed in his normal bathrobe and socks, probably with pajamas underneath, and his eyes were tired and so were his movements, but somehow, he managed to gulp down the food in his mouth and smile weakly.

I made some tea, he said in a voice even hoarser than yesterday's. He seemed to remember something and grabbed something that sounded to have a crinkly plastic cover. He held it up. Cookies too----old and taste like shit, but better than nothin', which is the only other thing we have...

Zack stared at him for a few seconds before his lips parted so he could stammer out a few words. I.... don't like tea, he muttered, taking a few light steps towards the counter and slowly taking the package of cookies from Cid. Everything was done softly, carefully, and silently, as if he had to think twice before doing everything and was still unsure when he did them. he stuttered, then shuffling over to the table and seating himself in one of the chairs, where he dug his hand into the package and began nibbling tentatively at one of the sweets. Now he remembered that he hadn't eaten much in the past few days, and yet he still wasn't very hungry.

He smiled crookedly. We still have that soup.

Cid paused, turning around with the mug in his hands and his blue eyes thoughtfully turned towards the ceiling. He looked back down, snapping the fingers of his unoccupied hand with a wry expression on his face. You know, I'd forgotten about that... He paced over to the cupboard and opened it, peering inside. Hmph... Chicken soup.... everyone uses that kind... Guess it'll do, though... He brought out a can and was checking it over when he suddenly began to lose his balance.

He grunted under his breath, hanging onto the counter to regain his equilibrium while giving a pleading look towards Zack, along with a strained smile. Kinda... um... I need to sit down... Could you make it?

Zack nodded, immediately getting to his feet and walking over, the half-eaten cookie and its other friends abandoned. You probably shouldn't be on your feet, he murmured softly, though the concern was easily picked out in his tone. Go sit down, he said, more of a request than an order, nodding to the table. He grabbed the can of soup from the man and then leaned his back against the counter as he squinted down at the label that gave him the directions.

Well... this shouldn't be too tough, he said, more to himself than Cid. Finally those pots and pans would come to use. He kneeled down and opened the cabinets, rummaging through until he found a good medium sized pot and its lid. Placing it on the stove, he then ignited the flame under it. After that he fished through the drawers until he found the can opener, cranking the product open and then dumping the stuff into the pot. He then adjusted the flame to the proper intensity and set to waiting for it to cook. This should be more than enough for you. You aren't gonna throw it up, are you?

Cid had been in the middle of the action of sitting down when he heard Zack's last sentence. He paused, blinking, and then did something new.

He laughed.

Zack stared. He couldn't remember a single time when his roommate had even chuckled without it being a malicious or manic action, and it was strange to see him do something so normal. It had a nice sound to it too, like an old churchbell that hadn't been rung in ages, slightly muted by dust and debris but deep and warm all the same.

Don't worry, the pilot continued, looking down into his tea mug with a sad smile on his face. I'll be fine... I'm damn tougher than this fucking bug will ever be.

If you say so. I just hope you mean it this time. Sorry, but taking care of you wasn't the most exhilarating experience of my life. Not that I minded. He grabbed a large stirring spoon and poked at the soup with it a bit, moving the food around so that different parts also got attention from the fire. Now that he was sure Cid was okay again, at least somewhat, he wasn't as scared. Which was good, because it hadn't been a nice feeling. I considered him my friend. To be scared of your comrade isn't something anyone should have to deal with. A smirk outlined by platinum strands flashed through his mind, but he quickly pushed it away.

I'm just glad that you're better now... he sighed, leaning farther back against the counter and tilting his head towards the kitchen's ceiling.

Cid responded, zoning out as he looked off into the distance. Me too...

MOOOMMMYYYY!!!!!!!!!!! DAAADDDYYYY!!!!!!!!! YOU'RE DEEEEEEAAAAAADDDD!!!!!!

MWAH-HA-HA!!!! EVER DANCED WITH THE DEVIL IN THE PAAAAAALE MOOOOOONLIIIIIIIGHT?!!?!?!?!

An expression of torturesome pain came across Cid's face, and suddenly, the old murderous glare was in it once more. Rigidly, he stood from his seat and went marching towards the front door. I swear, one day those kids are going to fucking DIE.

Zack blinked, still stirring the soup, and decided to let him go. He smiled. Some things never changed, and at this point, he was kind of glad for it.