Hello! I hope everyone has had a good & safe week. I'm posting this chapter a tiny bit early because tomorrow (Friday) is going to be a busy day for me, and since the chapter was already finished, I decided not to keep you guys waiting lol.

Anyway, this chapter was originally split into two separate chapters, but I ended up merging them because (1) both chapters ended up to be pretty short by themselves and (2) I have something else planned for next chapter that I'm excited to get started on :) But because of the merge, there may be some POV hopping but I'm sure you're all used to that by now lol.

Enjoy the chapter!

PS - shoutout to the Guest who said that this fanfic is the thing you're most looking forward to out of the week. Thank you! It literally made my entire day :)


The Turk intelligence outpost in Sector Four, located in an inconspicuous alleyway, was smaller than Zack had imagined. Far smaller, and it reminded the ex-SOLDIER of more of a shack than anything else. The only difference was that, unlike the average shack, this outpost had been built to last. The door had been reinforced with steel, the walls were thick and soundproof, and while the exterior blended in with the nondescript buildings around it, the inside was the picture of modern technology.

Zack pressed his Turk contractor ID - courtesy of Tseng - against the door's subtle ID scanner. With a faint click it unlocked, and the first thing he noticed was that the outpost/shack had been divided into two rooms. The first contained a series of monitors, at least a dozen or so, while the other, smaller room – more a closet than anything else – contained several computer servers and filing cabinets.

The rooms were also freezing cold, and Zack wished that he had brought a jacket as he stood at the outpost's doorway. Frowning, his bright eyes flicking across the many monitors, he said, "It's… nice?"

"It's shit," came Reno's immediate reply. Reno still sat in the passenger's seat, and the engine hummed beneath him as he propped his head up with a gloved hand. "Don't even bother pretending otherwise."

"Well..." Zack made a face. While Reno and Rude had clearly said that his mission would be to view security footage, his imagination and the actual image before him were two very different things. For the first time, it occurred to him that this might actually be a challenge. His computer skills, or lack of computer skills for that matter, was nearly five years out of date. He wasn't even confident he could turn the computers on. "Um..."

"Keep the ID card with you at all times," Rude interrupted, "and don't leave until we return."

"Yeah, if you lose your ID, you're S.O.L," Reno seamlessly added. He was inspecting his fingers, entirely bored by the conversation. "We'll be back at 1300. Until then..." His lips sharpened as he glanced at Zack. "Well, have a blast, Fair."

Zack scowled at him. "Whatever. Enjoy your own mission."

"Always," Reno drawled. With that, Rude hit the gas and the two of them drove out of the alleyway and disappeared around the corner. Zack watched them as they left, then sighed and re-entered the outpost, taking care to close and lock the door behind him. He had a feeling that this was going to be a real chore.

The outpost's air tasted stale as he switched on the lights. Stale and sharp, and coupled with the iridescent lights, Zack suddenly felt nauseous. Claustrophobic. The room was too small, far too small, and suddenly he felt like he was back in his holding cell. His throat tightened as his finger twitched, an echo of tapping against his glass cell as he tried to talk to Cloud, tried to get Cloud to engage in some sort of conversation because he had been getting more and more dazed, more and more disconnected from his surroundings, and Zack was afraid that he would eventually disengage from the world completely.

And then he had.

Don't think about that, Zack ordered himself, and firmly shoved those thoughts from min as he sat down in the office chair. Its leather groaned beneath him as he switched the computer on. Technology had never been his forte – he had always preferred bashing things in with a sword – but he would just have to deal with it today. He would have to, because this was his best chance at finding Cloud. Of making sure that Cloud was okay.

A moment passed, and the computer screen flared to life. Zack squinted at the sudden pale light, then frowned at it prompted him to enter his security credentials. The hell are those? Reno had never mentioned anything about credentials, but just as he was beginning to panic – if he didn't have the credentials, he couldn't log in, and that meant he couldn't look for Cloud – he noticed a card port beside the monitor. Inspired, he slid his ID card in, and held his breath.

[ CREDENTIALS ACCEPTED ]

Zack sharply exhaled in relief as the screen flashed to life. Then:

[ INITIATING MIDGAR SECURITY SYSTEM FEED ]

[ PROCESSING… ]

Another flicker.

[ PROCESSING… ]

The a pause. A lengthy one, far longer than Zack liked, when the screen suddenly flared again.

[ BEGINNING SECURITY FEED ]

Zack flinched as all of the monitors suddenly turned on at the same time. Videos, timestamped and geo-tagged, began streaming through all of them, a blur of soundless color and images. And he watched, transfixed. Excited. Overwhelmed.

Then he realized: This is too much. His fingertips hovered over the keyboard, uncertain, uneasy. Fighting monsters he could do, but this… having to filter through all of this data for one person out of thousands, or even tens of thousands, without any clue or idea or lead…

Zack shakily inhaled, then began to type. He didn't know how he was going to do it, had no damn clue in fact, but he was going to try. He had to at least do that.


Rude anxiously adjusted his collar as he and Reno stepped in front of a pharmacy shop. It was a small place, local and relatively unknown, and he had a difficult time accepting that it was providing the bio-terrorist group Avalanche key ingredients to homemade explosives. It simply looked too flimsy for that. Too… nondescript.

But that was the entire point, wasn't it?

"This sucks," Reno said beside him. The red-haired Turk tapped the ground with his foot, and his fingers were never far from his electro-mag rod. "Do we really gotta raid a piece-of-shit place like this?"

Over the years, Rude had learned to ignore Reno's complaining… or at least, to not encourage it. "Tseng's orders," he said simply.

"Yeah, well..." Reno's green eyes flicked across the pharmacy's storefront. "Doesn't mean it doesn't suck."

The pharmacy was on the upper plate, which meant that the windows weren't cracked, the door fit properly, and there was a fresh coat of white paint covering the building's natural concrete. That was about it, however. There were no other decorations, no neon lights, no potted plants on the front doorstep.

Reno tapped the door with his foot. "It's very plain."

But Reno hadn't seemed to hear. "Do you think we should tell Fair?" he asked instead. He turned to his partner with a conflicted expression. "You know, about Ho -"

Rude shook his head, firmly. "Tseng should be the one to tell him."

Reno watched his partner for a moment, then sighed. "Yeah, you're right." Shrugging, he continued, "So-" he waved at the door, "- are we doing this, or not?"

In response, Rude kicked the door open.

Like the outside, the pharmacy's inside was simple and plain. There were a couple aisles of over-the-counter medicine, some bandages, some cold compresses. Behind the counter was where the good stuff was, and the man standing there stared at the Turks with wide eyes. The man was also ordinary; late-fifties, wore simple business-casual attire, and was balding.

He was also sweating profusely, and nervously wrung his hands together as he attempted to smile at the two Turks. "W – Welcome," the man began, but Reno cut him off.

"Shove it, we both know we're not welcome." Reno strode up the front counter and splayed his hands against it, the tile cold beneath his fingerless gloves. "I take it you know who we are."

The pharmacy's owner nodded. He had gone pale, and his hands trembled as he wrung them together. "S – Sirs, I -"

"Good." Reno turned to Rude, who nodded and moved to block the door. Smirking, Reno glanced back at the man and continued, "We know about your little side business, old man. And we also know that you've been doing pretty damn well these past few days, too." He arched a delicate eyebrow, his smile sharp. "Explosives, maybe?"

The man paled further, if possible. "I – I don't -"

"Oh, cut the shit, please." Reno was now pacing back and forth in front of the counter, his fingertips brushed against his weapon. Rude knew that Reno wasn't planning on using it, not here – it was purely for the intimidation factor. That said, it was also extremely effective. The man shrank back, and his back pressed into the counter of prescription meds behind him. "Either start talking," Reno continued, "or we're dragging you back to base and making you."

The man's Adam's apple bobbed. "I… I might have... might have sold..."

"Faster," Reno hissed.

"I sold a few cases of hydrogen peroxide to a young lady two days ago," the man stammered out. "It's… It's an oxygen-binding reagent, but also used to disinfect superficial wou - "

Reno slammed his hands on the counter. "I know what it is. Just give me names. Now," he sharply added, and the man flinched before finding something to write with.


Zack was a technological genius.

That's what he told himself as he leaned back in the office chair, grinning, his hands folded behind his head, as he basked in the glory of success. The monitors displayed yesterday's security footage, with the datetime stamp in the evening and the geo-location specified for the Turk hospital. Exactly what he wanted.

Now he just had to wait.

His bright eyes flicked across the screen, and the mako within them glowed from anticipation. His gaze jumped from monitor to monitor; first of the train station, then of some open-air market, then to the back exit of the hospital…

Then his eyes flew wide.

There.

He watched, transfixed, as a grainy image of Cloud stumbled out of the hospital's emergency exit, gasping and panting and bleeding from his hands and knees. But then his head cocked to the side, as if he heard something, before turning his head…

Oh my god.

Zack's stomach clenched, and he quickly rewound the video a few seconds, then paused.

"Shit," he quietly hissed, and then zoomed in on Cloud's face. At his wild, terrified eyes. In the frame, Cloud's eyes weren't just the sky-blue shade of mako, but a striking emerald green. They were also slitted, just like a cat's.

Just like Sephiroth's.

Nauseous, Zack leaned back into the chair. The leather groaned beneath him. Exactly like Sephiroth, his mind repeated, and the thought echoed in his mind, repeated over and over again, bounced and reverberated through his entire being. He pressed a hand against his mouth, his brows furrowed. Shit. He had known Hojo had done things to Cloud. Had done lots of things, in fact. Fuck, Hojo had become borderline obsessed with Cloud, and had been constantly injecting him with who-knows-what, at all hours, no matter what Cloud had been subjected to earlier in the day.

It was only later that Zack realized that what Hojo had been pumping into Cloud was S-cells – the genetic code of Sephiroth - in the hopes that Cloud would become even more perfect than Hojo's most infamous creation. Zack's hands formed tight fists at the memories; Cloud, screaming until he went hoarse, vomiting mako and blood, being unconscious for days at a time. But that's what Hojo had liked about Cloud. Cloud had been so sensitive to the mako treatment, to the S-cells, that it had made him the perfect specimen.

Until he couldn't take it anymore, Zack's mind supplied as he continued to stare at the computer monitor, at Cloud's slitted green eyes, wide and terrified and so bright they saturated the screen. Zack's mind slipped back to the lab, and remembered when Cloud's body had begun to shut down. Remembered how he had begged them to stop the experiments, and how they didn't listen until Cloud simply…

Zack squeezed his eyes shut, and his breath shuddered between his fingers. Shit. He couldn't think about that right now, because if he did, he'd fucking lose it. He had to think rationally. Not emotionally.

If Cloud had Sephiroth's eyes, then maybe… just maybe… Hojo's treatments had been a success after all. Zack blinked open his eyes. And what would that mean for Cloud? he thought darkly... only to violently shake his head, as if physically forcing the thought out of his mind. Don't go there. Whatever Hojo had done back then - had done to the both of them - there was nothing Zack could do about it. Not right this second, anyway. There was other things he could do right now, important things, like figuring out where the hell Cloud went after he left the hospital.

With that thought firmly in mind, Zack deeply inhaled continued to play the security footage.

Within the video, Cloud's image once again cocked his head – his eyes burning a shocking shade of green – before turning and running down a different street. He was a little more than a gray blur against the concrete ground. No wonder Cloud outran everyone, Zack thought as he began fishing for the congruent video. He's far faster than a SOLDIER should be.

As fast as Sephiroth even, his mind brutally added.

Zack grimaced, and it took a minute, but he finally found it – then surveillance footage from the Sector Six train station. He watched as Cloud staggered up the steps, as if drawn to the sound of the whistling train, before his head snapped to the chainlink fence. He immediately began walking to it, almost bumping into an elderly couple on the way, before he grabbed the fence and rattled it, as if trying to get through… but then a sharp cough wracked his thin body, and suddenly he was on his knees, fingers still entwined around the fence's sharp wires.

Zack's throat felt tight as Cloud sagged against the fence, rapidly weakening. Sometime between the hospital and the train staton, his eyes had faded back into teal and he closed his eyes, his lips pressed together, as if he was about to cry. He sank fully to the ground.

And then something happened that Zack had not been expecting.

Tifa walked up the stairs.

Zack watched, wide-eyed, as the young girl he knew from Nibelheim suddenly dropped her groceries and ran to Cloud's side. Watched as Cloud batted her hand away, terrified, before suddenly recognizing her and mouthing her name.

Aerith was right, Zack thought, stunned. Cloud really was going to meet a friend.

And the realization – that Cloud was with someone that he trusted, someone that he actually knew – misted his eyes. His dark musings aside, he was relieved to know that Cloud was okay for the time being. And Tifa… Tifa was alive, and she hadn't died in Nibelheim after all. Cloud had one more friend in the great, wide world.

Thank god. He sighed, taking a moment to collect himself, before turning his attention back to the screen. I wonder if she still hates SOLDIERs, he wondered as he watched Tifa help Cloud up and they disappeared into the train together. And Shinra.

Well… I guess it's a good thing I'm neither, he thought with a small smile. He felt as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Cloud was okay and he was with Tifa, all of people.

He slumped in his seat, boneless. "Thank god," he murmured again to the quiet room. Aerith had really been right after all, but while he was beside himself with amazement, he couldn't exactly say that he was surprised. She had always seemed to know more than she should, but still. Damn. Hearing her tell him that Cloud was with a friend, and actually seeing the scene play out in front of him, were two very different things.

I should buy her something nice, Zack thought. A necklace? Or maybe a new ribbon? She's been wearing the same one I got her all this time…

Or maybe I should finally fix that cart. He faintly grinned at the thought, but something on the monitor suddenly demanded his attention. Zack glanced at the screen out of reflex. The footage was from the camera outside of the Shinra HQ building, and someone was walking up the steps. A very familiar someone. Someone on the older side, a man wearing a white lab coat...

Zack suddenly felt hot and cold at the same time. Like he had been set on fire and then dropped in the snow, but he was still burning, burning and freezing, and...

"Hojo," he breathed into the dark. He shot to his feet, unable to remain sitting a moment longer. No fuckin' way. This couldn't be happening, Hojo couldn't be here, he... No no no no. Zack's gaze flicked to the timestamp - the video was dated to the day before, so it was recent.

Too recent.

Zack took a shaky step from the monitor, and then another. Hojo is in Midgar. His stomach clenched; his forehead broke out in a sheen of cold sweat. Every nerve felt on fire, and the world had shifted into shades of green – the telltale sign that his adrenaline was going, that his body was preparing to fight, that the mako in his blood was alive and screaming. He had never even considered that Hojo could be in Midgar, because his mind, Hojo's place was in Nibelheim, in the lab underneath the Shinra Manor. He didn't exist anywhere else.

But now…

He's here, Zack knew, and his breath shivered between his lips. He's maybe fifteen minutes from where I am. And the realization suddenly made it hard to breath. Like the walls were closing in on him, descending on him, trapping him, the iridescent lights were flat and humming, the air tasted sharp and acidic with mako...

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe, and he ripped the ID out of the computer without a second thought. The monitors went black but he was already running out of the outpost, the air shockingly warm compared to the icy dark with the intelligence outpost. He inhaled, a desperate, strangled gasp, and started sprinting.

He needed to find Cloud. Needed to find him now, because Hojo was here, Hojo was here and Cloud was in danger…

I need to find Aerith first.

The thought tore through his ragged mind like a bullet, a feeling he was intimately familiar with. If Aerith had known about Cloud's friend, so maybe – just maybe – she could pull off another miracle. In fact, maybe she already knew where Cloud was. Maybe he just had to ask.

It wasn't much a plan, admittedly. But it was the only plan he had, and it calmed something inside of him. Soothed his frayed, raw nerves, and he began to run all the faster.

He would have to find Cloud before Hojo did.

He had to.


Unlike most bars in the slums, the Seventh Heaven was closed during the midday. There were no guests walking up and down its wooden stairs, no one was serving drinks inside, and the lights strung about the entrance were dark. In fact, during the day, the Seventh Heaven almost looked abandoned. Like the only visitors were ghosts.

And that was exactly the way Barret liked it. It wasn't that he didn't like the business that Seventh Heaven brought in – or the gil, for that matter – but, still. He and the general public didn't exactly get along. Not because he was a bad guy - he was just the opposite in fact, thank you very much - but he and the public were far too different. As different as the sea was from the land. Maybe it was because he was a stranger to Midgar, maybe because of his self-declared profession, or maybe it was because one of his arms had been surgically grafted with a semi-automatic machine gun.

Regardless of the reasons, Barret was pretty damn happy that the bar was closed.

"Where the hell is Tifa?" he demanded, ascending out of their secret base. The pinball machine clattered and hissed behind him as he stepped off, his footsteps loud and heavy against the wooden floorboards. "I can't find her damn nowhere."

Biggs, who had been busy scowling at an engineering map of the Sector One reactor's inner layout, only shrugged.

It was Jessie who replied, "Probably with her boy," he tone teasing as she fiddled with her bomb. Barret frowned at the explosive, at the wires and shit dangling off of it. He didn't like it when Jessie brought work to the bar, because while she was admittedly a genius with explosives, he didn't like them so damn close to where he was standing. Or eating, for that matter. "You know," Jessie continued with a smirk, "the blond-haired one? The ex-SOLDIER? With the pretty baby-blue eyes and that pretty golden hair?"

Biggs shot Jessie a dry look. "Don't let Tifa hear you say that."

Jessie only laughed. "I'm only teasing," she replied before turning her smile to Barret. "But seriously though, she's probably with Cloud. Maybe at her apartment?"

Barret scowled. "Well, like hell I'm goin' over there just in case they're, well, you know..." His cheeks reddened and he ran a hand over his head. "Fuckin' shit, does it matter? Can someone find -"

"Daddy!" came a shrill, child-like voice behind the counter. A moment later, a young girl stomped into the main dining area, her hands on her hips and lips puckered into a scowl. "Language!"

Barret winced - of course Marlene was awake, and not nappin' like she was supposed to. "Aw, I'm sorry honey." Attempting for a more contrite expression, he continued. "It just slipped out." Marlene nodded seriously, and Barret knelt down to her level and stretched out his arms for a hug. "Come give Daddy a hug."

Marlene watched him for a moment, still scowling… but then she giggled and ran forward, throwing her arms around his neck. With that, Barret effortlessly picked her up and she leaned against him, grinning. She loved behind up high.

Like a queen in her castle, Barret thought, trying and failing to suppress his own smile.

"Actually, now that I think about it," Wedge piped up from behind the counter, "I think I saw Tifa and Cloud heading to the junkyard." He was making a sandwich, something simple, with leftovers from the night before. He waved his butterknife through the air as he replied, "You know, Scrap Boulevard? With all the monsters?"

Barret scowled. Scrap Boulevard? "Why the heh – why the haystack," he amended as Marlene scowled at him, "are they goin' there?"

"Not sure," Wedge shrugged. "Maybe to break in Cloud's new gear?"

Jessie grinned at that. "Yeah, I saw Tifa this morning going shopping. She didn't see me, but I noticed that she was buying some armor. And not for her," she added, wagging her eyebrows, "but for her boy. She was very serious about it, too. Poor shopkeeper guy was terrified when she started haggling. It was hilarious to watch."

"Well," Biggs said, not looking up from his map, "Tifa is the best at getting good deals." It was true - it was why Tifa was placed in charge of buying all the supplies for Seventh Heaven, as well as their actual Avalanche gear.

"But like, have you ever seen her interested in any guy before, ever?" Jessie leaned forward, grinning, her makeshift bomb forgotten. "I mean, it's been like, what - four years? five? - since we all met, and she's never dated anyone. Or shown any interest in a guy, ever!" Jessie threw her hands in the air. "I was starting to think that she swung the other way, you get what I'm saying?" She glanced at Biggs, waiting for confirmation. "You get it?"

"No," Biggs deadpanned.

Wedge took a bite of his sandwich, looking supremely uncomfortable. "Jessie," he said slowly, "I don't think Tifa would like us gossiping about her behind her back."

"It's not gossiping if we're just talking," Jessie stated matter-of-factly. "And I mean," she seamlessly continued, "Tifa's a pretty girl! And super smart! It's not like she didn't have any guys chasing after her, and if she wasn't interested in any of them, what was I supposed to think? Like, I'd go out on a date with her." Turning to Biggs and smirking, she added, "Biggs, do you think Tifa and I would make a good couple?"

Biggs, his concentration torn away from his map, shot her a withering glance. "Do you mind? I'm trying to plan things out here."

Jessie laughed, and Barret cleared his throat. "Listen. I don't exactly give a shi… a shucks… about who Tifa is interested in." Shit, this not-cursing thing was hard. "Guy, girl, Mr. scrawny-ass-SOLDIER-boy -"

"Daddy!"

Shit, he thought again. "Tifa can date whoever she wants, it don't matter to me," Barret finished, then shot Marlene an apologetic glance. "I'm trying, baby girl."

"Try harder," Marlene pouted.

Barret almost laughed out loud at that - at her tiny furrowed brow, her very serious expression - but managed to nod contritely. "I will, honey. And like I'was sayin'," he continued to the rest of the team, "I don't care who she likes, as long as she does 'er job, and does it well. But I need'ta speak to her about that friend of hers." Glancing at Wedge, he asked, "You positive they're at th' junkyard?"

Wedge took another bite of his sandwich. "Yeah, pretty sure."

"Actually, Barret," Biggs said, and looked up from his map for the first time, "I'd sit this one out if I were you." At Barret's incredulous look, Biggs continued, "Tifa came by the bar last night – it was my shift, you know – and we talked for a bit. Turns out that Cloud and her go way back. They're old friends," he enunciated. "And besides… she seems happier with him around. Smiles more."

Barret's frown deepened. He had noticed that Tifa seemed a bit happier, and he wanted her to be happy, but... well, that SOLDIER-boy rubbed him the wrong way. Something was fishy about him, and Barret just knew it.

"I don't think it's our place to get in between them," Biggs hesitantly continued. Turning to the rest of the team, he added, "Right?"

"Right," Wedge agreed.

Jessie followed up with a, "Definitely. Besides," she added, leaning forward on her seat, "I kind of like Cloud." Propping her head up on her hands, she continued, "He's kinda funny. And speaks his mind," she added, grinning at Barret. "Cute face, too."

Barret scowled at that particular memory. "That boy ain't funny. He's rude as all he...ck," he quickly ammended, wincing.

Marlene dramatically sighed at Barret's censoring attempts.

"So." Jessie's expression suddenly shifted, and her copper eyes dropped to her hands. It was then Barret noticed just how tightly she was clenching them together. The knuckles were white with strain, and the skin was shined and clammy. "Do you… think we'll be okay tomorrow?" She bit her lip. "For our mission?"

"Heck yes," Barret stated.

Jessie flashed him a small smile.

But Marlene only tilted her head to the side, her lips beginning to pucker into a frown, and asked, "Where are you going?"

Something inside Barret deflated slightly, and steeling himself, he slowly sat Marlene down on the bar counter. She blinked at him, her brown eyes wide and confused. "Daddy's gonna go visit some ol' coworkers, sweetheart."

Marlene's lips curved into a frown. "But… But you're always gone."

"I know, baby girl. I know." Barret sighed; how could he explain this? How could he make her understand – understand that he was doing it for her, for her future? "This… is only a temporary thing. You see, honey…" His voice lowered. "You see, the Planet is hurtin'. Hurtin' real bad, and Daddy and his friends have to go out there and stop the people who are hurtin' it. You understand?"

"But..." Marlene's gaze dropped to her shoes, small and pink. Kicking her feet off the counter's edge, she murmured, "But I want you to stay."

"As soon as the Planet is safe, I'll stay forever," Barret promised.

Marlene's eyes lit up. "Forever and ever?" she asked, and Barret smiled.

"Forever and ever and ever."


The artificial sun burned dim, the telltale sign that midday was over and that the real sun – the sun that shined down on the upper plates – was beginning to make its way back towards the jagged horizon and stretch out the shadows as it fell. But not down in the slums. Here, below the Sector Seven plate, the shadows never shifted. They only darkened and faded depending on how brightly the artificial sun was burning at the time.

And Cloud's shadow was a faint smear against the ground as he darted forward, far more quickly than the eye could see, and cut through the first Wererat. The monster let out a pitiful squeal before slumping against the dirt, but Cloud was already turning, pivoting on one foot, his weapon a wild arch of destruction around him.

And his weapon was a gunblade. It was what he had decided on after holding claymores, katanas, daggers, rifles. The guns had felt the most familiar in his hands, which initially worried him - guns were not SOLDIER weapons, after all - but he had been drawn to the swords. Drawn the edge of their blades, the sheer savagery of it, and the knowledge that he might have wielded one in his fragmented memories. So in the end, and at Tifa's encouragement, he had compromised: he accepted the familiarity of a gun, but also desperately clung onto the sword... as well as everything that sword represented: His hopes; His dreams; The promise he had made so many years ago.

And Cloud was a natural swordsman… to the untrained eye. To anyone but a SOLDIER, he was a storm of flashing metal and steel, a torrent of destruction. He cut through the wererats as if they were nothing, and bursts of green surrounded him as the monsters faded back into the Lifestream. Soon it was as if he was surrounded by fireflies, and their soft glow danced about his moving form as he dodged, twisted, turned. Adrenaline burned his eyes a striking shade of mako blue, and the color mingled with the fading fragments of the Lifestream until they seemed to be one and the same.

Yet, Cloud felt awkward. Clumsy. He could dodge, he could attack, and he could kill. But he felt as if he was reacting instead of taking the initiative, like he was entirely reliant on his body's enhanced reflexes, speed, and strength to fight. There was no skill behind his attacks. No technique. Only instinct.

In fact, he felt as if he had never used a sword before.

He pivoted, the ashen dust of Scrap Boulevard pillowing his boot, before parrying a wererat's lunge.

Maybe I haven't.

The thought tore across his mind, unwelcome and unwanted, and Cloud clenched his jaw against it. Yes, the gun had felt far more familiar, but he had hoped that his body would remember the sword even if his mind hadn't. But clearly, it didn't, which led him to his next train of thought. Since his memories between Nibelheim and Midgar were gone, maybe that applied to his body's memories as well. But he would remember. He eventually would, because he had to. His memories couldn't be gone forever.

He bit his lip.

Could they?

"Cloud!"

Tifa's shout snapped Cloud out of his spiraling thoughts, and he stepped to the side just as another wererat slashed the spot he was just at. He clenched his jaw – I should have noticed that – before lifting his gunsword and firing, once.

His aim was perfect. It bullet pierced the wererat between the eyes, a perfect shot, and Cloud lowered his arm with a faint exhale. The wererat slammed against the ground, lifeless, and he stared at it a moment before it shattered into green shards and faded away.

The air was choked with the taste of the Lifestream, and it tasted like metal. Like copper, or iron, and Cloud instinctively pressed his hand against his mouth even as he glanced at his surroundings. His luminous eyes flicked across the landscape, but saw nothing. He had finished all of the monsters off.

"Well done." Tifa had been watching him from the sidelines, but now she jogged up to him, her expression bright. "You looked good out there! Like a real SOLDIER."

Heat kissed Cloud's cheeks and he turned away, obviously pleased by the compliment, and desperate not to show it. He nearly told her right then that he didn't remember being in SOLDIER, not to mention that SOLDIERs don't use gunswords and that they used real swords... but he caught himself at the last moment. "Well," he managed instead, "I'm rusty."

Tired, too. Exhausted even, but it was the good sort of exhaustion. The kind that he felt in his body instead of in his mind, and his mind felt the most clear since he had woken up in Tifa's apartment. Glancing back at the junk littering Scrap Boulevard, Cloud resolved to come back here more often, to train. His mind needed it. Hell, his body needed it. He was far too thin as it was, and he needed to rebuild the muscle he had lost due to… well, whatever had happened to him.

"You look worried," Tifa pointed out. She had sat down on a piece of scrap metal and Cloud, after a moment, joined her.

Cloud shook his head as he eased beside her. "Not worried," he said simply. "Just… thinking that I should come out here more."

"We can come whenever you'd like," Tifa promised. "And you say you're rusty, but you looked really good out there, Cloud. Really." Cloud shrugged, a faint blush kissing his cheeks that were still flushed from fighting. "And you're fast. Like, really fast. Sometimes it looked like there were actually two of you out there," she added, her tone teasing.

Cloud shrugged. "It's just the mako." Despite just sitting down to rest, his breathing was already beginning to slow, to even - another indication of his mako enhancements. His heart rate began to calm, and the adrenaline of battle was fading. Even the world itself, which had gone green during the fighting, was beginning to fade back into their normal shades.

"Well, it looked pretty cool," Tifa said, grinning at him. "But how was your sword? Did it feel okay?"

Cloud glanced down at the gunsword, now stretched across his lap. He ran his hand down its sword – thin, silver, with the blade gently curved to a tapered point – before his palm met the hilt, where a pistol had been embedded into the sword's design. He would have preferred a rifle, but...

"Good," he finally said. "Not what… I'm used to. But I'm getting the hang of it." It wasn't a lie – the gunsword wasn't was he was used to, but not in the way Tifa was thinking. It was the sword that felt strange in his hands... not the gun.

"Could'a fooled me," Tifa grinned, and she began speaking about something else, but Cloud only half paid attention.

His thoughts flickered another direction, unbidden, into somewhere darker.

Thoughts such like, Why am I better with the gun than a sword?

What if I never remember anything?

What if I wasn't actually in SOL -

"Cloud?" Tifa said, interrupting his thoughts.

Cloud blinked, startled, before flashing her a wane smile. "Sorry. I'm here."

Tifa returned his smile, though hesitantly. "I was asking you if you were hungry," she explained. "It's almost time for dinner."

Cloud's expression shifted into surprise. "It's been that long?"

"Yeah. Time flies when you're having fun," she grinned, her tone teasing. "But anyway – anything you're in the mood for? We can get boba again, since you liked it sooo much last time."

Cloud made a face. Tifa had made him try boba for lunch, and he decided that he did not like it. No – did not like was far too tame of a word. He had hated t. He hadn't been expecting the little gooey things to get sucked up into the straw, and he had nearly choked on it – much to Tifa's amusement. God, it was like inhaling a wad of snot.

Even now Tifa chuckled to herself, both at his expression and the memory it brought up, but managed to compose herself at Cloud's deepening frown. "Well, we can get sticky noodles instead," she suggested, but suddenly her expression lit up. "Or meat pies! The meat pies here aren't like home -" home referring to Nibelheim, "- but they're pretty close. I get them when I'm homesick."

Cloud glanced at her, surprised. "You get homesick?"

Tifa blinked at him, but then her gaze dropped to her lap. "Sometimes," she admitted, and began playing with her hair. "You know, like our childhood. Hiking through the mountains with everyone. Playing in the streams. Seeing the sky every day. Eating… Eating Mom's cooking," she added with a small, hopeless shrug.

Cloud swallowed. "Tifa..."

"Sorry!" She quickly wiped her eyes. "I don't know why I'm getting so emotional." She lightly chuckled, but the sound was rough and dry. "I haven't thought about home in years, to be honest. I don't even remember the last time I had a meat pie, but I guess… I guess since you're here now, I've been thinking about Nibelheim more. About home," she said, and shrugged again.

Cloud looked away. "Sorry."

"No! Don't apologize. Please don't." She placed a hand on his arm, and Cloud minutely tensed at the feather-light touch before relaxing a fraction. "No, I'm glad you're here. Truly."

Cloud glanced at her, his lower lip lifted in what could have very well been a pout. "You sure?"

"Yes," she promised him, and smile. Cloud continued to frown at her, unsure what to say or do or anything at all, when she spared him the decision and got to her feet. Stretching her hand out to him, she continued, "Ready to go?"

After a moment, Cloud hesitantly returned her smile with a faint one of his own. Taking her hand, and letting her help him back to his feet, he said, "Yeah."

With that, he swung his sword on his back so that it clicked with the magnetized holster. It felt heavy, but it was the good sort of weight. The comforting kind, and it made him feel – actually feel – like he had been in SOLDIER once, even if he didn't remember it.

But for the first time since choosing his weapon, he thought that maybe – just maybe – he would be able to remember something soon, as long as he kept practicing and keeping his new sword nearby. The thought almost made him smile, and he hoped that he would remember something cool. Like he had saved a village from a monster, maybe. Or if he had saved someone's life once.

"Coming?" Tifa called from in front of him. She had pushed open the chainlink fence that divided the Sector Seven slum proper from Scrap Boulevard, and was holding it open for him. Smiling at him. Waiting for him to catch up.

Cloud's lips twitched in a smile of his own. "Yeah," he replied, and hurried to join her.

Maybe - just maybe - he would remember being a real hero.


Zack pounded against the mako pod's curved walls. "Stop!" he screamed, and thick bubbles tore through the mako on their way to the surface. They wove between his fingers as he pounded against his glass prison, got caught in his black hair, shuddered as they broke the surface with a face hiss. "Stop it!"

Hojo gave no indication that he heard, and even if he had, he probably didn't care. His attention was fully focused on Cloud, otherwise known as sample C… though there was very little of Zack's infantry buddy that he could recognize now.

"Stop it!" Zack screamed again as Hojo leaned over his sample, over Cloud, and made various observations to his assistants. But Zack couldn't hear them; their words were warped through the glass and muted in the mako, and he had never been good at lipreading. But he could imagine. Yes, he could imagine, and his imagination ran wild.

Though, after everything they had done to Cloud so far, he didn't have much left to imagine.

Zack's fingers curled against the glass. "Stop!"

Having seemingly reached a decision, Hojo instructed his assistants and they scattered through the room. They grabbed vials, syringes, sealed beakers full of chemicals and other substances, and eventually laid it out on a table beside Cloud, nice and orderly.

Meanwhile, Cloud continued to lie on the metal table, limp, uncaring, unfeeling. Liquid mako, thick and green, dripped from his hair and slid down his pallid skin, and while his eyes were open, he stared and saw nothing. His sky-blue eyes burned, and not from adrenaline - as Zack was most familiar with – but burned green. Bright green, unnatural for even SOLDIERs, due to how much of it Cloud had been submerged in. And for what – to prepare his late-teen, still-developing body for whatever the hell Hojo was planning to do to him?

It pissed off Zack to no end. Not to mention that whatever treatment Hojo performed was obviously not doing Cloud any favors. The younger man's pale skin was blistered and chemically burned from the mako, his eyes were bloodshot from staring through it at all hours, his ribs and hip bones created prominent hills in his skin. Unsurprising – the few times they let Cloud out of the mako pod to feed him, Cloud had vomited it all up within minutes… if he was even conscious enough to attempt eating on his own. Otherwise, Zack would try to get him to eat something when they were placed in the same holding cell together. It was happening more often when Hojo learned that Zack would better cooperate if he was near Cloud, and Cloud was less likely to die if Zack cared directly for the younger blond, but... still. It wasn't enough.

"Stop!" Zack screamed again, his voice a thick mass of bubbles and mako, as Hojo prepared a vial. "You'll kill him! Take me," he begged, and his hands curled against the glass. "Take me instead, don't hurt him. Please, don't hurt him, take me instead."

But Hojo didn't hear.

He never heard…


Zack jackknifed upright, chest heaving and a cold sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. For a moment he stared, stunned, unsure of what he was doing or where it was… but then it all clicked a moment later. He was in Aerith's church. He had come here after running from his Turk-assigned mission early, but Aerith hadn't been here when he had arrived. So he had sat down on one of the pews to wait, but…

He ran a trembling hand through his hair, and exhaled a shuddering breath. Must have fallen asleep, he realized dimly. He wished that he hadn't, and he squeezed his eyes against his dream, at the nauseating memories it dragged with it. Yet the images still flickered behind his eyes. The terror he had felt on behalf of Cloud still clawed at his chest, digging in, scraping against his nerves.

He hadn't had that dream in a while. Hadn't missed it either, and his stomach twisted against it. Slapping a hand against his mouth, he roughly exhaled, a hiss of emotion and anger and… and fucking Hojo, Zack thought darkly. The sea glass green of his own eyes flared hot. Next time I see him, I'll -

"Good morning, sleepy head."

Zack turned his head so quickly, he nearly gave himself whiplash… but then he laughed, a choked, nearly hysterical sound.

"Though, I guess I should be saying, Good afternoon," Aerith added with a faint smile. "It's pretty late."

"Aerith," Zack breathed. Relief made him lightheaded and he leaned back in the pew, nearly boneless, as another laugh clawed out of his throat. "God, you surprised me."

"Me, surprise a SOLDIER?" Aerith sat beside him, a basket of flowers on her lap, and flashed him a grin. "I must be pretty great."

Zack's expression softened. "You're pretty great," he agreed. Already he could feel his heart rate calm, his hands stop their trembling, as the nightmare receded to the dark corners of his mind. Aerith is here. She was here with him, and he was with her, and the glow in his eyes dimmed into something far gentler as he admired her. Admired her smile, her eyes, the way she looked at him, and slowly, he began to feel like the world was okay again. Yes, the horrors were still there. But they were now lingering shadows against Aerith's light, and she was bright enough to keep them away.

Well... at least for a little while.

"And I didn't say this before," he added, attempting to save face from his earlier shock, "but I noticed that you're still wearing that ribbon I bought you."

"Well of course. Aerith ran a hand to her bow, and her fingertips brushed against the ribbon's faint pink. "I promised you I'd wear it always, after all."

Zack swallowed. "I didn't realize it meant so much to you."

"It did." Aerith glanced at him, and meeting her gaze with his, smiled. "It still does." But then her smile slipped and Zack, suddenly alarmed, sat up a little straighter. But she only turned back to her flowers. Watched them wave and shiver in the slight breeze, and she said, "I'm worried about you, Zack."

Zack suddenly felt cold. Icy cold. Had he said something in his sleep? Had he scared her when he woke up? Anxiety rolled within him, but he managed a small, tight grin and said, "About me? Aerith, you don't have to worry about me," he assured. "I'm strong. I'm tough."

"You also talk in your sleep," Aerith murmured. She wouldn't meet his gaze as she continued, "You sounded pretty scared."

Shit.

Zack could only stare. Stare and feel like he was dunked in a mako pod again, drowning against the thick liquid, and suddenly it was hard to breathe. He swallowed. He knew what was coming, knew what was coming as like he was standing on the railroad tracks watching the train getting closer, and just knew that he wasn't quick enough to get out of the way.

So he just stood there and stared, preparing himself to get run over.

"Zack." Zack sucked in breath as Aerith turned to him, the humor gone from her eyes, having been replaced by something far deeper, far more tragic. She reached forward and placed a hand over his own. Her hand was so much smaller, Zack numbly noted, and she said, "What happened these past few years?" She bit her lip. "Where were you?"

Zack's eyes pricked with tears against his will, and he tore his gaze away… but not his hand. He kept his hand where it was, right beneath Aerith's warm, dirt-flecked palm. "You're not going to like it," he whispered.

Aerith's grip tightened on his hand, and she said, "That's okay. If you want to talk about it, I'm listening. Maybe you'll feel a bit better," she added with a small, lopsided smile. "I'm a good listener, you know." And when Zack didn't reply – didn't even turn to look at her – she continued, "You're not alone, Zack. You know that… right?"

Zack's faint breathes trembled between them, and yet still he would not look at her. Didn't want her to see how weak he was. How weak he could be. How different he was from how she remembered him, at how the past four, five years had damaged him so deeply. But damn, how she could drag out every jagged, broken, hurting piece of him out so easily. So effortlessly.

Seeing that Zack was not going to speak, Aerith's gaze returned to her flowers. After a moment, she said, "You know, all these years, I had thought you had forgotten about me."

Zack turned to her, wide-eyed. "I... I never forgot -"

Aerith smiled at him, and the words died in his throat. "I know that now," she murmured. She lightly squeezed his hand, and said again, "I know that now. But back then, it was hard to know what to think. I couldn't sense you anymore. Thinking that you were dead was far too painful to bear, so I… I preferred to think that you just… forgot. That you moved beyond my reach. After all, you were perfect," she added with a faint laugh. "A SOLDIER, traveling across the world, fighting monsters and saving people." She turned her smile to her flowers, but she wasn't look at them; she was looking beyond them, to somewhere only she could see, and her smile faded into something a little sadder. "Meanwhile," she continued, "I was just a young, inexperienced slum girl that was afraid of the sky. Not exactly comparable," she joked, but there was something sad in her voice. In her eyes.

And Zack stared at her, shocked. Nearly too shocked to speak, to find his voice again, but before his mind caught up he had enveloped her petite hands with his own. Aerith glanced at him, surprised, as he lifted his fingertips to his lips. Her fingertips were rough from tending the earth, to tending her flowers, but they were strong, and firm, and warm, and were currently holding onto all of the pieces of his fragmented heart.

He loved her hands. Her eyes. Her everything.

"The thought of meeting you again," Zack began softly, roughly, hoarsely, "kept me from losing all hope. And your little wish, that you wanted to spend more time with me, kept me alive. Honest," he said seriously at her small smile. "Honest. And when I was trapped in that… in that place, I would sometimes dream that I was here instead of there. And they were the happiest dreams." His eyes watered, and mirrored Aerith's own misty, emerald eyes. "I wouldn't want to wake up. I didn't want to, I'd fight it, because if I woke up then I would wake up there instead of here. And I… I so badly wanted to imagine that that place was the dream and here was the reality. But I'd always wake up," he finished, his voice a breathless rush.

"Zack..."

"I was in a lab," Zack quickly continued. He had to speak quickly, had to spit everything out all at once, because if he didn't… if he didn't, he had no confidence that he would be brave enough to try again. That maybe he never would, and the words he wouldn't be able to say would rot inside of him. But he had to tell her. He owed her that, at least. "But not… not to work there, but because I was one of the experiments. Sample Z," he echoed, his voice hollow. "And Cloud was… Cloud was Sample C."

Aerith's lips formed a thin, white line as some of the mist gathered and trickled down her cheeks.

"Those were our names." Zack deflated. It was an effort to keep his head up, to keep his eyes open and lips movement, but he did it anyway. "Those were our names for four years."

"Oh, Zack..." Aerith pulled him into a hug, a tight hug, and Zack rested his forehead on her shoulder, unable to support himself up any longer. Unwilling to.

He thickly swallowed, and continued, his voice a mere whisper, "That's why I couldn't come visit. Because… Because they wouldn't let us leave. We had to escape, had to… had to get out of there."

"And you did."

"Yes." Zack leaned against her, supporting his weight with her own. "We did, but Cloud… Cloud was in a bad way. The things Hojo did to him, Aerith, sometimes I -" Aerith's eyes widened at Hojo's name, but Zack didn't notice. His breath shuddered between them, a gasping inhale as his dream surged to the surface. "I begged Hojo to use me instead. But he never did. Never did, and everyday I had to watch Cloud… Cloud slowly die, day after day after day, until he couldn't even hold his head up or see anything or eat or -"

"Shh, Zack." Aerith's hands moved against his back in small circles, and Zack sucked in breath as he realized that he had been rambling, that he had been losing himself in his spiraling thoughts, the dark memories that could oh so effortlessly pull him under.

But not all the way. No – Aerith was here to drag him back up, to keep him from drowning. He reached his arms around her and pulled her against him, as tightly as he dared to without hurting her.

He felt Aerith shakily inhale against him. "I'm so sorry, Zack," she whispered. "I had no idea."

Zack dryly chuckled, though the sound felt strange and unnatural and sharp in his throat. "Don't apologize," he murmured into her hair. "Please don't apologize. It's not your fault."

"I'm sorry just the same." She pulled away from him, just enough so that their eyes met. The emerald in her gaze shone bright with tears, some unshed, others trailing down her cheeks.

Zack lifted his finger against one, catching it, his heart breaking. "Please… Please don't cry. If you start crying..." He managed a thin, tight smile, one that had his eyes burning. "I'm gonna start to cry, too. And won't that be pretty damn embarrassing."

Aerith laughed, breathless. "You're already crying."

Zack blinked, and something damp ran down his cheek. "Am not," he blatantly lied, and attempted another smile.

Aerith laughed again, and then she did the unthinkable.

She kissed him.

And Zack's eyes flew wide as her lips skirted his own. He felt a brush of skin, of heat, of softness, and then she pulled away - much to his disappointment - until she was blinking at him again. There was a flush to her cheeks, as if she was just as surprised as he was, but she recovered far more quickly than he could.

"We'll find Cloud," she told him. Her hands cupped his cheeks, and he could only stare, wordless. "We'll find Cloud, and Hojo won't find either of you. I won't let him," she stated matter-of-factly.

After a moment, Zack smiled a small, crooked smile. "You're gonna protect me?"

"That's right."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around? You know," he added, his smile brightening at their banter, "considering I'm the SOLDIER that fights monsters and saves people?"

Aerith's lips curved into a grin. "Nah."

"You mean, hell yeah."

"Nah," Aerith said again, and then she was leaning away from him, her focus now shifting to her flowers. Zack released her from his tight embrace, but still felt strangely disappointed. The church felt colder without her pressed against him, and he felt himself crave her warmth, her support, her quiet strength. Her kiss.

"Feeling a little better?" Aerith asked.

Zack blinked. "Y – Yeah," he said, surprised. And he did feel a bit better. A bit calmer, and he smiled at her – an honest, true smile. "Thank you."

Aerith's lips brushed against his forehead, warming him. "Of course, Zack."

He almost added that another kiss would make him feel a whole lot better, but her attention had already shifted back to her flowers, so he kept his mouth shut. Instead he leaned forward on the pew, content to simply… watch her. To bask in her presence, at the comforting silence that anchored him.

"I'm going to the upper plate later," Aerith said, surprising him. "Sector Eight, I think."

"Upper plate?" Zack repeated, drawn out of his daze. "But aren't you afraid -"

"Of the sky?" Aerith finished for him, and shook her head. "No. I've worked hard to get used to it, you know. I'm strong and tough too."

Zack grinned. "I know."

"And plus, I feel like I should be there tonight." Her chin tilted upward as she glanced at the broken rafters above her, at the faint sunlight beyond that. "Like something big might happen there, you know? And I... I have to be there for it."

Zack wasn't sure what she meant by that, but at this point, he wasn't questioning it. Sitting more upright, he asked, "Want me to come with?"

"Nah, I'll be okay. Also..." She glanced at him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere right now?"

Zack frowned at her, uncertain… but then his eyes flew wide. He had completely left the Turk intelligence outpost without saying a word to Reno or Rude - not that he could, as he no longer had a phone, but still. That hadn't been cool of him.

"Shit," he murmured, which had Aerith giggling.

"Shit indeed," came a voice behind him. Zack nearly jumped out of his skin, only to realize that it was only Tseng. Tseng, who was watching him with a vaguely annoyed, yet knowing, expression. "I had a feeling you might have come here, Fair."

Zack flashed Aerith an uneasy smile before returning his attention to Tseng. "Uh… you found me?"

Tseng only sighed in response, which had Aerith chuckling. Grinning to him, she said, "You're in trouble now, Zack."


I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Barret and Marlene are officially my two favorite characters to write. I love them :) Also lots of Zaerith this time around, but after everything Zack went through to meet her again, they definitely deserve some time together.

Anyway, about the next chapter - it'll be the first chapter of the mako reactor one bombing mission (!) and it perfectly coincides with me moving into my new place. I'm still planning on uploading the next chapter on June 26th, but be prepared for the chapter to be a few days early or late depending on my schedule.

But until then - have a safe, happy, and wonderful week :) See you next time!