Author's Note: So, this fic is very special to me, for a lot of reasons. First of all, it's one of the first FFVII fics I *ever* drafted, and I've had it almost completely written (all but the portion after the last break) for the last EIGHT YEARS. I've actually thought about it pretty frequently over that entire eight-year span, but only now, after all this time, decided it was time to just publish it and quit second-guessing every single ending I wrote.

Secondly, I used to read a ton of FFVII fic by LadyNightRunner back when I first started writing for this fandom, and the original draft for this story was heavily inspired by her works, particularly a Zack x Angeal fic called "Being There." It was one of the first Hurt/Comfort fics I ever read, and turned me onto the genre before I even really knew what it meant. (The end of this story actually ties into the beginning of "Being There," as a sort of shout-out to the amazing LadyNightRunner and her awesome stories. If you want to go read that story after this one, I definitely encourage it!)

Finally, this is my first FFVII story in almost seven years. Final Fantasy VII, and *seven* years between fics...? Hmm. That wasn't intentional, but it's pretty neat anyway. I'm extremely excited for the remake coming out this year, and as a result I think I'll be getting back into this fandom HARD. I have dozens of half-finished stories from almost a decade ago, and I can't wait to start sharing them with all of you. So stay tuned - the best is yet to come!

SOLDIER First Class Zana Zira, over and out!

Thursday morning started off like any other for Zack Fair. He woke at four a.m. to the sound of his alarm clock shrieking in his ear, slapping the accursed thing until it finally shut off, and blearily opened his eyes. His eyelids felt a little heavier than usual, and he was tempted to just roll over and go back to sleep, but knowing he was supposed to train with Angeal today, he pulled himself out of the comfortable nest of blankets and trudged to the shower; Angeal would never let him live it down if he ditched. Zack was usually bursting with energy no matter what time it was, so this was rather unusual for him. If he escaped work long enough to sleep five hours a night, he was perfectly energized the next day. Last night, however, he had been up into the wee hours of the morning trying to finish some paperwork he had been putting off for too long; the thought made his head ache a little.

After he had showered and donned his uniform, Zack made his way into the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot by the sink, letting the heat and caffeine slowly wake him up as he prepared a mental checklist of his agenda for the day. First, he had to get at least a little paperwork done in his office, one of the many "perks" he'd received since being promoted to First Class. At least the other Firsts would all be miserable right along with him, he thought as he sighed and took another sip of his coffee.

Next came teaching alongside Angeal; the two of them generally chose to run their drills in tandem, combining their groups of trainees to provide a wider variety of sparring partners and help them get to know as many of their future comrades as possible. He figured that wouldn't be too bad, since Wednesday was a Thirds-only drill day and Angeal didn't want the newest recruits dropping dead before the combined Seconds-and-Thirds drill on Friday, but he could never be sure.

Last would be one-on-one sparring with Angeal, the aforementioned thirty-five-year-old SOLDIER he had come to be mentored by some years ago. Even if he could sometimes be a little too strict, the puppyish Zack had really grown attached to him. The two were rarely apart for long, and even at almost nineteen years old, long past graduating to the rank of First and becoming a legal adult, Zack was still always doing his best to impress his mentor. That effort usually landed him in some sort of trouble with the higher-ups, but he wasn't ashamed of it; the execs needed to loosen up a little, and he was just helping them out. He would never say that in front of Angeal, though.

Out of nowhere his stomach suddenly clenched with a burning pain that radiated up to his esophagus, and he closed his eyes and hissed through his teeth, trying to ride it out and keep it from getting any worse. Almost as soon as it had come the pain in his gut passed, and he stood there for a little while longer just breathing and making sure nothing else was going to happen before opening his eyes and glaring into his cup with disdain.

"Oookay, definitely must've let that brew a little too long. Gross." He stifled a belch and wrinkled his nose, pouring the half-finished coffee out into the sink before striding to the door and picking up his coat and keys. He made a mental note to check the timer settings on the coffee machine when he got back, and make sure it wasn't turning on too early.

"Let's hope," he thought, "today goes smoothly so tonight I can just come home and relax."

~FFVII~

For most of the morning, everything did go fairly smoothly. Zack started his paperwork at five-thirty a.m. and worked diligently on it until eight before he had to stop and close his eyes for a few minutes; they were beginning to hurt, which he attributed to staring at such small writing for so long combined with only sleeping three hours the night before. After massaging his temples for a moment, he returned to the papers, cursing under his breath when a secretary deposited yet another pile of files on his desk for him to look over. This was some kind of conspiracy, he just knew it; the other Firsts never seemed to end up with as much paperwork as he did.

He continued his work for another few hours, finding it harder and harder to concentrate through the dull headache he had developed sometime after nine o'clock. By eleven thirty, his head had begun to throb painfully, and he finally had to give up on doing any more reading for the day; the letters were all starting to blur together on the pages. He sighed, realizing that all that meant was more paperwork to catch up on tomorrow. Resigned to his fate, he decided to head down to the mess hall and see if there was anything edible being served today. He suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning, and even though he wasn't really hungry, he should probably eat. After waiting in the lunch line and deciding that most everything looked thoroughly unappetizing, he decided on a small bowl of chicken and dumpling soup. The food was hot and it was cold outside, so that sounded like the best option. With slower steps than usual, he walked over to his usual table and sat down. Angeal, who had already finished his paperwork for the morning, was there waiting for him.

"Heeey, Angeal!" he greeted excitedly, nearly wriggling with energy at the sight of one of his closest friends and temporarily forgetting his headache. "We still on for training today?"

"Yes, Zack," Angeal answered patiently while he read the newspaper and ate the tuna sandwich he had bought a few minutes earlier. "Why wouldn't we be training today?"

"I dunno, just making sure you weren't gonna chicken out on me," he teased before slurping up a little of his soup, not sure why he was half-disappointed by Angeal's answer. After a few mouthfuls, his stomach twinged painfully. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard a couple of times, hoping Angeal wouldn't notice. He noticed anyway.

"Zack, is something wrong with your food? You can have the other half of mine, if you want."

"No, nothing's wrong with it. I'm just not as hungry as I thought I was," Zack lied, trying not to look at Angeal's sandwich as the pain in his stomach subsided again.

Angeal's lips pulled into a concerned frown. "I've never seen you turn down a meal before. Do you feel alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Zack replied, a little more shakily than he meant to.

The older SOLDIER raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Well, then you need to eat. If you aren't sick now, skipping meals will get you there. It's the middle of flu season, remember? And you're about to get up close and personal with all of the trainees who've been passing it around the barracks for weeks."

Zack sighed, unable to deny the truth in that, and began hesitantly eating the creamy soup. His stomach tightened a little but didn't rebel, so he continued to eat until almost all of the soup was gone, aware of Angeal's eyes on him the entire time as he ate his own lunch.

"There," he said, pushing the bowl toward his friend. "Happy?"

"Yes." The sound of a clock's bell rang out through the mess hall, and Angeal folded up his newspaper and tossed his sandwich wrapper into a nearby garbage can. "I have to go set things up, Zack," he said as he stood to leave. "I'll see you in a little while."

Zack waved to him, laying his head in his hands once he was sure his mentor was out of sight. His headache was getting worse, and the idea of running drills out in the cold, even if it was Angeal leading the majority of them, made him a little queasy. Oh, well. He didn't want to set a bad example for the younger recruits, so he supposed he'd better get moving.

In the few minutes that had passed between Zack leaving the mess hall and arriving at the training grounds, what had started as mild queasiness had evolved into horrible nausea. He could feel sweat beginning to bead on his face, which did nothing but give him the chills as the icy wind met the moisture on his skin. He sat on a bench out of sight of the training field while he waited for the other SOLDIERs to arrive, holding his head down almost between his knees and trying to breathe deeply and slowly. He sat up as soon as he heard the clomping of their boots approaching, worried they might see him looking weak; the sudden movement made the soup in his belly slosh side to side, and he nearly lost it right then and there. This was not going to be an enjoyable training session.

When all of the trainees had lined up in front of Angeal, he began informing them of his plans for today's session.

"Alright, SOLDIERs," he shouted confidently. "First, for a warm-up, we'll run ten laps around the track."

"Peachy," Zack thought bitterly. Running was usually refreshing and very easy for him, but today… Well, he'd just have to tough it out.

"No need to sprint, just match my pace and stay in your ranks. Got it?"

"Sir!" everyone responded.

"Alright, fall in behind me. Hup, two, hup, two, hup, two!"

Angeal began to jog at his usual pace, his troops easily falling into line behind him.

Out of habit, Zack tried to stay as close to the front as he could get without actually stepping on Angeal's heels. On a good day he might have even tried to good-naturedly pass the older First and up the pace (and risk a scolding later), but right now he was too tired to care. Each stride jostled the food around in his stomach more and more, and he was finding it harder and harder to stay focused on the rhythm of his feet. His mouth was starting to water, and he swallowed hard several times, trying to hold down the tightness building in his throat.

By the beginning of the eighth lap, he knew he couldn't do it anymore. He ran off the side of the track and into the grass – the others knew to keep running until they finished their laps or Angeal told them to stop. He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around his belly, groaning softly as it churned and grumbled. Angeal was by his side in an instant, kneeling in front of his student and shielding him partially from view.

"Zack? What's wrong?" he asked quietly, noticing how pale and shaky the younger man suddenly looked. The raven didn't answer at first, only closed his eyes for a moment and gulped loudly again. Angeal cupped Zack's chin in his hand, gently turning his head to get a better look at his face. "Zack?"

"'Geal," Zack finally managed, trying to find a way to explain what was about to happen without opening his mouth too far. "T-think 'm gonna-"

Too late. Before he could even finish the sentence he retched harshly, stomach contracting hard as it rejected the meal he hadn't wanted to put into it in the first place. Angeal gasped in surprise and jerked his hand away, blinking slowly as he stared at the mess now dripping down his arm and chest and onto his fatigues. Zack was horrified, but he had no chance to apologize before he lurched to the side and continued to gag.

"Oh. I see," the older First said quietly, using a gloved hand to wipe the worst of the mess off of him before leaning over to steady Zack.

"A-Ange – hllp – I'm sor – urp –" Zack gasped between the spasms that were making it hard to breathe. Angeal just shook his head and started rubbing circles between the younger man's shoulder blades, trying to calm him down.

"It's okay, don't worry," Angeal whispered softly, sympathy coloring his voice. "Alright, back to work!" he shouted authoritatively to his other students as they finished their runs and began to approach. "Go on, there's nothing to see here! I'm taking General Fair down to Medical, and you're to continue your normal warm-ups until my replacement arrives. Everpine, you're in charge while I'm gone!"

The group obeyed immediately, jogging back toward the main training field without so much as a whisper from anyone but the aforementioned Second-Class SOLDIER Lt. Everpine, who responded with a quick and confident "Sir, yes sir!" Satisfied, Angeal waited patiently for them to disappear from view, still rubbing Zack's back until he had stopped retching and managed to catch his breath.

"Angeal…" Zack said shakily, wiping his mouth on the back of his gloved hand. "I'm so sorry, I…"

"Like I said, don't worry about it" Angeal replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You're sick, it's happened to the best of us. But why did you decide to come to training if you're sick? Have you felt like this all day?"

"I was tired and had a headache this morning, but I thought it was just from lack of sleep. My stomach started hurting sometime last night, too, but it didn't really get bad until after I ate that soup…"

Angeal could see Zack's face lose even more color at the mention of food, so he hurriedly changed the subject. "Well, no offense, but you look terrible. Can you stand?"

"I think so…" Zack stood very carefully, afraid to move any more quickly than he had to. He was very unsteady, though, and would have fallen over backwards if Angeal hadn't been there to grab his shoulders and hold him up.

"That's it. Forget going to Medical, you're coming back to rest at my place," Angeal said firmly.

"But I –"

"No buts," the older man said firmly. "You can't even stand up on your own, Zack, so I know you're in no shape to care for yourself. Would you rather relax at my apartment, or down in the medical wing with every other flu casualty from the barracks they get in there today?"

"Fair point," Zack conceded, too tired to argue any more. They made it through the main building and out to the parking garage and reached Angeal's old tan pickup truck, which he still preferred over the flashy new Hardy Daytonas typically issued to SOLDIERs due to its higher passenger capacity. Zack let himself be eased into the passenger seat, making sure that the seatbelt buckle didn't put too much pressure on his stomach. As an afterthought, Angeal opened the trunk and removed a bucket lined with a kitchen garbage bag, handing it to Zack; he didn't feel especially queasy at the moment, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. Although…

"Angeal?" he began, eying the bucket strangely. "Why did you just have this sitting around?"

"I've been the designated driver for Genesis more often than I'd like to admit, and he gets carsick very easily when he's hung over."

"Oh."

Angeal got into the car and started it up, backing out of his space and leaving the parking lot in a much slower and gentler way than he would have if he was alone. The two of them didn't speak during the drive to Angeal's apartment. Zack had put his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, trying not to think about the motion of the car, and Angeal didn't want to disturb him. He lived only a few miles from ShinRa HQ, so the drive wasn't far. This turned out to be very fortunate, because by the time they reached his front door, Zack was looking decidedly green and had begun to sweat and breathe shallowly again. He closed his eyes and clutched his stomach with a shaking hand and the bucket in the other, hoping to make it inside before he needed it. Angeal quickly unlocked the door and, realizing the master bathroom was probably too far away for Zack to make it, guided the other SOLDIER into the kitchen, pushing his head down over the sink instead just as he began to vomit again. This bout of nausea didn't last as long as the first one had, and Angeal was a little relieved to notice that it sounded less painful.

"Finished?" he asked gently, pouring water from a pitcher into a small glass. Zack nodded slowly, still panting quietly. "Here, rinse your mouth."

"Thanks," Zack rasped, taking the glass of water in a shaky hand and slowly swallowing the tiniest sips he could manage.

"Alright, you need to lie down and rest, Pup. Come on." Zack offered no resistance, following Angeal into his bedroom and hesitating when he saw the older man pull back the fluffy down comforter on his king-sized bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Turning back the covers for you?" Angeal responded, confused and a little impatient.

"But this is your bed. I don't want to get my germs in your bed!"

The older man chuckled and rolled his eyes. "I appreciate your consideration, Zack, but we spend most of every day in each other's personal space anyway. If I haven't already been exposed, this isn't going to be the thing that does it. And you know from experience how uncomfortable my couch is."

"We really do need to get you a new couch."

"I like my couch. Just… not for sleeping. Anyway, we'll discuss that later. Get into bed."

Zack gratefully obliged, sighing and curling up into a loose ball under the warm blankets. Angeal, noting his shivering, tucked the edge in for him and placed his trashcan beside the bed for good measure. He then strode out of the room for a few minutes; Zack could hear water spraying in the kitchen, so he must have been rinsing out the sink. When he came back, he was holding the glass of water from earlier along with a bottle of pills. Shaking two of the tannish capsules out of the bottle and into his hand, he gave Zack the glass of water.

"Take these, okay? They're supposed to help a lot with nausea."

Zack nodded weakly, taking them from Angeal and washing them down with a few small sips of water. Angeal began to leave the room again, and Zack whined pitifully. "Where are you going?" he asked, still shivering.

"I'm going to shower and change my clothes," Angeal answered patiently, knowing that Zack, usually happy-go-lucky and tough as nails, always turned clingy and insecure when he wasn't feeling well. "Just stay in bed and wait for those pills to kick in, and I'll be right back."

Zack sighed, pulling the covers up nearly over his head and curling into a tighter ball with a sad little groan.

When Angeal reentered the room fifteen minutes later, cleaned up and carrying a pair of pajamas for Zack, he found the man in question leaning over the side of the bed, shuddering all over as his body continued to purge itself of anything it considered a threat – including water and stomach medicine. Sighing, Angeal sat down on the bed beside him, supporting his upper body with one hand around his waist and slowly rubbing his back with the other. For another few minutes, the young SOLDIER's body continued trying to expel something that was no longer there; he was dry-heaving with such force that it made Angeal's ribs ache in sympathy. Finally, the spasms subsided, leaving Zack out of breath and exhausted.

"Is this the first time you've vomited since I left the room?" Angeal asked, a bit of concern coloring his tone. Zack shook his head slowly; there were dark circles forming under his deep blue eyes.

"No… The second…" He winced and began to knead his fingers into his abdomen. "Aww, man, this kinda hurts…"

Angeal's eyes narrowed slightly, and he touched Zack's forehead with the back of one hand; he was starting to run a fever. "I think we should wait awhile before you try to drink anything else," he asked gently. "If you don't throw up again for at least an hour, we'll try some water and medicine again, okay?"

"Okay…" Zack's voice was almost a whisper.

"Here, change into these," Angeal handed Zack the pajamas he had brought down earlier. "I'm going to get you something that should help a little with the aching."

The younger SOLDIER clumsily obeyed while Angeal walked back out to the kitchen, changing out of his uniform and into the much more comfortable sweatpants and T-shirt before slipping back into bed. He could hear the microwave running and smelled something cooking – although right now the thought of anything even resembling food was revolting – before Angeal reentered the room carrying what looked like a small white pillow.

"What is that?"

"It's a bag of rice; I heated it up and wrapped it in a towel. When you've got a stomach ache, holding this over your muscles can help take away a lot of the pain."

Zack beamed at him, still managing to look a bit like his usual self despite how ill he felt. "Angeal, you think of everything." Angeal chuckled and walked over to the side of the bed, handing him the bag. Zack lifted up his shirt and gingerly touched a corner of it to his belly, relaxing and laying the entire hot pack over his stomach when he realized it actually felt as nice as his mentor said it would. "Ahh… Thanks, man…" he mumbled sleepily.

Angeal just smiled, glad to be able make him a little more comfortable. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep?"

Zack nodded, yawning and turning over to curl up around the hot pack. "Yeah. I'm still kinda nauseous, but my stomach's quit doing somersaults for now, so I'll count that as a win."

"Good. Just try to rest, and call for me if you need anything. I'm going to try to whip up some home remedies for later while you're asleep."

Zack nodded again, closing his eyes and nestling himself deeper into the folds of the blankets. Before Angeal had even slipped out of the room, he was beginning to snore.

Almost as soon as he stepped out of the bedroom, Angeal's cell phone rang. He cursed quietly, hoping it hadn't woken Zack, before pulling it from his pocket and glancing at the caller I.D.: Cloud Strife. The anger drained from his face, and he swiped the green ANSWER CALL icon.

"This is Angeal," he answered quietly.

"Ah… Angeal? This is Cloud Strife."

Angeal chuckled. "I know. I can read a caller I.D." He could almost hear the blond blush on the other end of the line. Even though he had recently turned sixteen and been promoted to SOLDIER Third Class, the boy was still painfully shy, but making progress.

"Right, of course… Anyway, I was worried when Zack got sick during drills today. Is he doing okay?"

Angeal resisted the urge to smack himself on the forehead. Of course Cloud would have seen them leave earlier – he was one of the Thirds they were training today. It was probably a minor miracle he'd waited this long to call. "He's had better days, but so far it seems to be just one of the seasonal bugs getting passed around right now."

"Oh, good. Has he managed to keep anything down yet?"

"Not yet. He's still feeling pretty rough, but he's finally asleep."

"Oh, I see…"

"You're welcome to come see him, if you'd like. I'm sure he'd be happy." Angeal knew what a soft spot Zack had for his friend; he treated him almost like the little brother he'd never had.

"Okay, I'll be over there soon."

Cloud hung up pretty quickly, obviously relieved to hear that his friend wasn't at death's door. Angeal could only imagine what rumors the kid might have heard circulating through the barracks. He estimated that he had about fifteen minutes before Cloud arrived, so he hurriedly got to work on his remedies. Ice cubes were broken up into chips and placed back into the freezer, rice put into a pot to steam, and crackers and ginger ale laid out on the counter for when they might be needed. Angeal had suffered through many stomach flus in his day – viruses always spread like wildfire within SOLDIER – and he was pretty sure he could handle just about anything that might happen. If this was the bug the rest of the building had been getting, though, it was going to get worse before it got better. Angeal sighed. He hated to see Zack so miserable, but there was really nothing to be done but care for him until his body overcame the virus on its own.

As predicted, Cloud was knocking on the door at three o'clock sharp. Angeal opened it and beckoned him inside, glad for someone to watch over Zack for a little while so he could tidy the place up a little and start scrubbing the stains out of his uniform before he washed it. He showed Cloud back to the bedroom before departing, hoping to get a few chores done before Zack woke up and needed something again. Cloud, not wishing to wake his friend, sat down in an armchair across the room from him, content to sit and read over his most recent course notes on his phone until Zack woke up on his own.

As it turned out, he didn't have long to wait. A few minutes after he had come into the room, Zack jolted up in bed; one hand covered his mouth and the other was held tightly across his abdomen, and he was gulping the way Kunsel usually did when he was trying to chug a bottle of beer in five seconds. Cloud, of all people, knew what that meant. He hurried over to his friend's side, lifting the trashcan up so Zack could reach it without leaning so far over the edge of the bed. He rubbed Zack's back sympathetically as he retched painfully over it, bringing up nothing but a few drops of bile for all his effort. After another minute of unproductive gagging, Zack finally pulled away from the trashcan and sank back onto his pillow, shaking and sweating profusely as he tried to catch his breath.

"Are you all right now?" Cloud asked, patting his shoulder gingerly.

Zack glanced over at him with a wry smile. "Define 'all right.'"

"Meaning, not going to puke up a kidney for at least a few more minutes," Cloud teased.

Zack laid the rice pack back across his stomach and set his hands on top of it, wincing slightly. "No promises, Spiky. It's been pretty unpredictable, as you just saw."

Cloud nodded, sympathetic. "Can I get you anything?"

"You could beat me with Reno's mag until I die."

Cloud rolled his eyes and laughed. "Yeah, sure, I'll get riiiiight on that." He placed his palm against Zack's forehead. "You've got a pretty high fever. Are you sure you don't want some ice chips or something to cool you down?"

"No, thanks. Even with this hot pack I still feel like I'm freezing. And I doubt even a few drops of water would stay down right now."

"You may be right. You should try to get some sleep if you can. Angeal's in the laundry room and I'll be here too, if you need anything."

Zack sighed and gave a weak thumbs-up, closing his eyes and drifting off into an uneasy sleep within a few minutes.

~FFVII~

He didn't know whether he had been out for minutes or hours, but Zack suddenly woke up in agonizing pain. It felt like something was grabbing onto his guts and tying them into knots, pulling as hard as they could along the way. He was almost too breathless to move. He curled into a ball, moaning when he realized that there was no position that was comfortable, but that this one was the least uncomfortable. He felt his stomach lurch and knew what was coming next, but it was too painful to uncurl, and the trashcan was just out of reach. He heaved and coughed – gods above, his insides were on fire! – leaving a small pool of foamy bile on the pillow beside his face.

"Oh, sure, now something comes up," he choked between heaves. Cloud, who had heard him beginning to get sick from the kitchen, strode in to check on him again.

"Zack?" he asked from the doorway as he fought to find the light switch in the now dark room. "Are you okay?"

"Cloud…" Zack whimpered, on the verge of tears and relieved that someone had heard him. "Gods, fuck, it hurts…"

Cloud was now thoroughly alarmed. Zack had never sounded like this before, and definitely not because of a little stomach virus. He finally found the light switch and turned it on, rushing to Zack's side and almost tripping over the trashcan in the process.

"ANGEAL!" the blond shouted, more loudly than Zack had ever thought him capable of. There was the sound of combat boots clomping down the tile in the hallway, and a few seconds later Angeal dashed into the room.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly, fighting to keep the volume of his voice under control. Even with Zack's back to him, he could see that the raven hair was plastered to his face and neck, and when he reached the other side of the bed he saw the sheen of sweat extended over his face and body too. His complexion had gone nearly white, the only real color being the flush in his cheeks and the dark gray circles under his eyes. He was curled into a ball, hands held tight against his belly, and he moaned in pain when Cloud's hand briefly touched it in an attempt to turn him over.

"Where does it hurt?" Angeal asked, somehow managing to control his mounting panic as his eyes scanned Zack all over for the source of his apparent agony.

"The lowest part… of my s-stomach… it… burns…"

Angeal looked down to exactly where Zack's hands were pressed, realization washing over him now; he was starting to get an idea of what the issue might be, but he still had to be sure. "Zack, I need you to uncurl for me so I can look at you."

Zack whimpered but obeyed, his breath hissing in through his teeth as the muscles in his abdomen stretched.

"This is going to hurt, but I have to check you out, okay?"

Zack just nodded weakly, too pained an exhausted to speak.

Not wasting any more time, the older First lifted up Zack's shirt, exposing his abdomen and chest. The left side looked normal aside from all of the sweat, but the lower part of the right side looked swollen. Angeal gently pressed the tips of his fingers against the swollen area and then quickly raised them up. Zack gasped and choked back a cry of pain before reaching out and weakly grabbing his mentor's wrist; the rest of his body was trembling violently under Angeal's hands.

"N-not again, Ang-geal," he whispered, tears of pain stinging his eyes. "Please, not again…"

Angeal squeezed Zack's hand and nodded, trying to reassure him as much as he could. "I know, Zack, I'm sorry. I won't do it again." He turned his gaze to Cloud, who noticed the real fear in his eyes now.

"What is it?"

"I think his appendix may have ruptured, or it's about to. We need to get him over to Medical now. If it's ruptured and he's got an infection, it could kill him."

Without wasting another moment, Angeal scooped Zack into his arms, carrying him out to the truck as Cloud followed at his heels.

"Here, put him back here with me," Cloud said, climbing into the back seat and leaving the door as wide open as it would go. "I'll hold onto him while you drive."

Angeal nodded and handed Zack to his friend. Cloud carefully held him on his back across his lap, using his arm to cradle the older SOLDIER's head and tilt it sideways in case he was sick again; Zack moaned and turned over to curl up on his side, nearly delirious, and Cloud began rubbing his back and murmuring soothing words in an attempt to comfort him.

With Zack situated in the back, Angeal turned the key and gunned it out of the parking space, nearly taking out the cars behind him before he shifted out of reverse. The tires squealed loudly as he wrenched the car around onto the highway leading to ShinRa HQ. By this point, Cloud would usually have already been feeling incredibly sick, but as it was he was too worried about Zack to even think about his own motion sickness right now.

As soon as they reached the parking garage Angeal threw the truck into park, and Cloud helped him heft Zack into his arms again before they took off at a jog toward the medical wing. They dashed into the waiting room and the receptionist looked up in alarm when she saw who Angeal was carrying. She picked up the desk phone and paged the Emergency Room nurses, telling them to bypass triage and bring a stretcher so they could get him to a room. In the meantime, which was probably only thirty seconds, she asked Angeal for Zack's name and date of birth so she could pull up his file.

"What are his symptoms?" she asked once she'd retrieved his record from the database.

"Severe stomach pain, nausea, vomiting, and fever," Angeal rattled off, gaze trained on the half-conscious man in his arms while he spoke. "He seemed fine this morning, but it's gotten this bad in just a few hours. I'm afraid maybe it's appendicitis."

Two men, an E.R. nurse and a doctor if he had to guess, had brought in the stretcher as he finished delivering this information, and while they helped him lay Zack down on it and began to wheel it back toward the E.R. the doctor asked, "Is the pain localized anywhere? Upper, lower, left or right?"

"It's worst on the lower right," Angeal answered. "He just about came out of his skin when I pressed down on it."

"Zack? Can you hear me?" the doc asked as they got him situated in a small, sterile-white room with curtains to separate him from the patients on either size.

"Yeah, c'n hear you," Zack muttered, having been perfectly happy letting Angeal do all the talking while he focused on holding the raging fire inside his belly so it didn't spread to the rest of him.

"Okay, good. My name is Dr. Lindon and this is Nurse Elliott, and we'll be taking care of you today. Can I get you to turn over on your back for me? Just for a second, so I can see what's going on?"

Zack whimpered quietly but did as Dr. Lindon asked, planting his feet flat on the bed so he could keep his knees bent toward him when lying flat proved too painful to handle. He endured having his shirt rolled up again and the cold fingers poking and prodding his chest and stomach; he tensed as soon as the doctor moved to touch the muscles near his right hip, but thankfully the man just looked, barely grazing the swelling there with his fingertips before nodding and pulling Zack's shirt back down.

"What's the verdict?" Cloud asked softly from where he and Angeal stood off to the side, close enough to watch but not to get in the way.

"I'd say you were right on the money, Mr. Hewley," Dr. Lindon said calmly, while Elliott began prepping a bag of IV fluids and cleaning Zack's left arm with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. "Looks like a textbook case of appendicitis. We're going to give him a sedative now, before we take him back for an ultrasound to confirm the diagnosis and make sure the appendix hasn't ruptured. Once we know that, we'll take him back for surgery."

"Surgery?" Zack yelped, pushing himself up slightly on his elbows before realizing that really didn't feel good and lying flat again. "No, I – I can't need surgery, this is just the flu! It's been going around all the barracks!"

"Easy, Puppy," Angeal chided, stepping up to his bedside and grabbing hold of the hand without the IV being placed into it. "It's a simple procedure, people have it done all the time. I had mine out four years ago, remember?"

"So did I, before I came to Midgar," Cloud chimed in with a soft smile, gently petting Zack's spiky black hair. "And that was back in the 'old days' before all the cool laparoscopic stuff they do now."

"But I can't be out of commission for this! I have recruits to train, and –"

"And you'll be out of commission a lot longer if you wait any longer and your appendix ruptures," Angeal cut in. "It'll all be fine, Zack. I can ask Genesis or Sephiroth to help come teach with me while you recover, if need be. If not, I can handle things myself."

"Not Seph," Zack slurred, throwing his free arm over his eyes dramatically as the sedative started to take effect. "Anyone but Seph. He'll w'rk 'em all 'til they diiiee and w'll have t' start over with a whole new batch o' SOLDIERs."

"Alright, alright," Angeal chuckled, trading places with Cloud and stroking Zack's hair back from his face as his eyes grew heavier and heavier. "Just rest, Zack. We'll be here when you wake up."

"Y'promise?"

"I promise."

Zack tried to say "I'll hold you to that," but by the time he got past "I'll…" he was already out cold.

~FFVII~

Just like he'd promised, Angeal was waiting at Zack's bedside as soon as he woke up. He and Cloud stayed there with him all night, although Cloud had to leave early in the morning to attend his regularly-scheduled drills. Zack was released later that day, and spent the next few days recuperating at home with both Angeal and Cloud keeping up regular communication with him via text messages and popping in to check on him after work each day.

By the start of the next week he was back to his normal self, his mako-enhanced healing abilities having ensured he wasn't left with so much as a scar, and his trainees were extremely grateful to see him (Genesis, who had stepped in to assist during his absence, was not as cruel as Sephiroth but was still a lot scarier than Zack even on a good day.)

He was incredibly grateful to his friends for what they'd done – he knew he could be stubborn when it came to his own health, so who knew how long he'd have put off getting help if left to his own devices? – and he knew he'd do the same for them in a heartbeat.

So a couple weeks later, when he heard that his mentor had been excused from duty after picking up a strain of gastroenteritis that was making its way through the infantry troops, he only stuck around HQ long enough to drop off his training gear; after that, he set out for the pharmacy to find some SOLDIER-strength medication he could bring to Angeal's apartment. After all, it was the least he could do.

"Nurse First Class Zack, on the job!"

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