Bad things happen when you play with mako! Zack/Seph. If you didn't already know, SOLDIERs get a mako 'enhancement' when they enter, but it shouldn't be enough to poison him.

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"I feel like I have to go somewhere today…" Sephiroth muttered, staring into the golden sunset that crowned the mountains of Wutai.

Zack smirked and threw his hands behind his head, leaning back against the treads of the tank. So easily his general has forgotten what day it was.

"It's Thursday Seph, don't you know. But the lab's all the way back in Midgar."

The silver-haired general's soft lips twitched into a sorrowful smile, a certain Thursday coming to mind. Zack had no idea that he owed his life to that day of the week, even though his favorite day was Wednesday. How ironic. With a low chuckle, he jabbed the raven-haired boy in the ribs with the hilt of Masamune.

"You have no idea when you talk too much…"

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Thursday was always the worst day of the week. Everyone was just starting to feel tired of their work, but Friday was still a day away. It was awful especially in the summer, when the air seemed to stagnate and the hours just dragged on for eternity. However, Sephiroth had a different reason to hate Thursdays. They were 'checkup' day every other week, which meant shot after shot after shot of mako and planet knows what else.

After cleaning up his desk and bidding farewell to his trusted secretary, Sephiroth headed down to the lab, dragging his feet and stopping to talk to everyone he met, even if he knew them or not. Then, as the six o' clock hour rolled in, he trudged into the lab, tossing his coat onto the rack of bleached white scrubs.

"You're late," a low, snakelike voice emerged from around the corner, followed by a stooped professor that was just as greasy. His latex gloved hands were clasped behind his back, only moving to push a bent pair of bifocals up his hooked nose.

"Sorry Professor, I had a lot of work to catch up on," sighed Sephiroth, bowing his head.

"That's no excuse! Marcus! Xavier! Make the preparations!" Hojo snapped back, "and you know where to go."

On his command, the two clean-cut lab assistants scurried off to a secluded room at the rear of the facility. It was a long, narrow, concrete room lined with chairs in the center. The fluorescent lights flickered every now and then when the power surged. And, each large, strap adorned steel chair was paired with a set of beeping and whirring equipment. The air was sterile and cold, unlike the air up above. Rusty sinks and cabinets lined the back wall, and at them the assistants were busy sorting out syringes from drawers labeled with coded stickers.

While they worked putting the needed injections into a basket along with gauze and alcohol, Sephiroth walked down the hall toward the room as slowly as possible, hair like a sheet of fine silver blown sideways by each air vent he passed. Deep down, going to the mako experimentation room always bothered him not for the most superficial reason, but because it passed by the animal testing unit and eventually his old room. Many horrific memories were housed there.

"I'm here…" he muttered, leaning on the doorframe with feigned nonchalance. Xavier nodded and showed the general to his usual chair while he stared emotionless and cold into the wall in front of him. The assistants hooked him up to the monitoring devices, and a soft beeping sounded from the device beside him. Even when they finally jabbed the needle into his arm, the icy stare was still there, except his own vision was slowly being invaded by darkness.

When the darkness lifted, Sephiroth found himself staring into his lap, his whole left side numb. Then the tingling gave way to a sharp, throbbing pain, but with a low grunt he shook it off and looked to the side. His hair was damp with sweat.

Then he heard something not quite out of place, but bothersome nonetheless. Turning his head slowly to where the noise was coming from, he noticed something that cleared his double vision instantly. A young SOLDIER with shaggy black hair was slouched in the chair next to him, eyes listlessly staring into the wall, and every now and then he twitched violently almost to the point of convulsions. One could tell he was in pain without the moans. The worst thing was, this was a kid he passed into the ranks of SOLDIER just yesterday.

"H-hey…" he croaked, his voice hoarse after untold hours of unconsciousness. Gathering all his strength, he unbuckled the straps and crossed the meter long gap that separated them by clinging to the IV hanger. Kneeling next to him, he gently unplugged all the wires and tubes like a loving mother, and then cupped the youth's face in his weak hands, rubbing a thumb gently under his brilliantly glowing purple eye.

"Damnit… why do you have to do this…" he groaned, wrapping his arms around his waist gently, wincing as thin fingers weakly gripped his back like a small child. His gazed wandered down to the patient's wristband. Zack Knightblade, 16. Damnit. When did they get so young?

Zack mumbled something in near Sephiroth's ear, but it was a poison victim's babbling. After pressing his chapped lips gently on the boy's cheek, then pulled away and groped toward the cabinets. He slung needles this way and that, trying to find the right one. Then he found it, a drug called Counteract-ant that reactor accident victims receive when they get poisoned from exposure.

Sephiroth slowly wiped the needle off with a piece of gauze and stuck it gently in Zack's vein. The first few minutes of his pain wrecked cries were almost too much for the silver haired angel, but his peaceful silence was solace enough.

As he leaned his head against the peacefully sleeping teen's chest, running a now steady hand through his thick, shiny black hair, Sephiroth could feel his temper boiling.

"Yes, Hojo. This is too much."