Author's Note: Long time no chapter! This one was difficult to write, and had to be handled rather delicately to get it to come out right... And even so, it still didn't come out the way I planned! (I blame Zack.) I tried to keep the emotions as realistic as possible, so hopefully they're believable! Maybe after reading, you'll get a sense of why the situation was so difficult. Many thanks to LuckyLadybug for previewing the chapter for me. :) Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Eight

We're Friends… Right?

The two stared at each other for a long moment, obviously neither expecting to come face-to-face so abruptly.

Sephiroth made the first move. Glad to finally see Zack up and about, the edges of his face softened ever so slightly. He stepped forward.

"Zack-"

Almost before Sephiroth began his movement, Zack had leapt backward, the action ingrained into him over years of fighting the man. Automatically, his eyes flicked around the room, instantly noting the escape routes… the only one being through the doorway that Sephiroth was currently occupying. His entire being tensed.

Sephiroth halted in surprise, hand slightly out-stretched. Slowly, he let it drop, taking in the way Zack stood, muscles bunched, and the flash of panic in his eyes. It almost reminded Sephiroth of a wild animal, wounded and cornered, pursued by hunters.

Sephiroth felt a fragment of his heart crumble.

Studying Zack's face, he tried to read the emotions warring in his eyes. Fear, uncertainty, hope… distrust, guilt, regret. And several others too complicated to name.

Gaia… Is this my doing?

In that moment, Sephiroth loathed himself more than any other creature, human or otherwise, that he'd ever had cause to despise. He recalled the moment in the infirmary, when a confused Zack had actively tried to escape from the room. Surely, he wouldn't do the same thing here, now that he was fully conscious? Sephiroth felt the need to brace himself in case Zack tried to bolt, but, with the way Zack's eyes were glued to his every movement, that probably wasn't a good idea. He forced himself to stay relaxed.

Lowering his eyes and releasing Zack from his likely unnerving stare, Sephiroth spoke, keeping his voice low and soothing. "Zack, I-"

He was interrupted before he could get very far.

"A-are you…" The voice was raw and shaky. "Are you… really sane?"

It was so full of disbelief and hope, and as Zack gazed at him with wounded eyes, Sephiroth wished with all his heart that he could wrap his friend in a strong, reassuring hug. But he didn't dare.

"Yes, Zack." His voice broke. "I am. …Thank you." He'd never meant words of gratitude so much in his entire life than he did at that moment.

Zack stared at him, beginning to tremble, ever so slightly. "I-I… I never thought you'd ever…" He cast his eyes skyward and ran the back of his hand across them as they started to tear up. "Gaia… is this real? How do I know?" Looking back at Sephiroth, he repeated the question. "H-how do I know that this isn't just a dream? Or a trick?"

Sephiroth was at a loss. What could he possibly say that could convince Zack that it wasn't an illusion?

"I… don't know. I'd ask you to trust-" He broke off. Trust me. But he couldn't rightly ask that of Zack, could he? He shrugged, helplessly, and again noted how wary eyes locked to the small movement. "…I don't have the answers anymore, Zack," he finished, his throat constricting painfully.

Zack sniffed, taking a shaky breath and blinking away hot tears. His head buzzed, his hands tingled. He was in agony. He didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do. The dream he'd clung to for so long during those endless years in the Lifestream, heck, even during the few good hallucinations in Nibelheim, was that Sephiroth would finally come to his senses, and be welcomed back by an ecstatic Zack. He'd throw his arms around his friend in the biggest glomp he'd ever given anyone, and everything would be right again. Just the way things used to be.

But… things could never be the way they used to be. There was too much, and it was too late. Years… so many years!… of pain and hate and suffering, everlasting… Zack clenched a fist, and he hated the way he couldn't bring himself to hug his best friend, after longing for this moment for so, so long.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I-I don't know if I c-can…" What? Forgive, trust, what? He didn't know. He just didn't know anymore.

"Zack. I am sorry." Sorry? Sephiroth held back a strangled bark of derisive laughter. Gaia, that word was so woefully inadequate it was pathetic. Sorry was no apology for Sephiroth's crimes. For a betrayal so deep, it had consumed his soul and the souls of all those he loved for years past when everything should have ended and things forgiven. The universe did not have a word for a regret as profound as his own.

"Can you…? No." Sephiroth shook his head. "I don't even have the right to ask for your forgiveness."

Zack opened his eyes, only to gaze upon Sephiroth's pained expression, and it broke his heart.

"S-Seph-iroth, I…" He swallowed a lump, forcing down his conflicting feelings. He didn't have the heart to see his old friend suffer, even after all that had occurred. "I-it's… alright." He tried to manage an encouraging smile, wasn't sure if he succeeded. It felt hollow.

"…Zack, you don't have to…"

"I said it's okay. I-I just… I need some time, alright?" His gaze pleaded with Sephiroth to understand.

And Sephiroth did, all too well. He nodded.

There was another moment of silence.

Then Zack abruptly whirled and fled to the imaginary sanctuary of his room.

He shook, trying to calm his rapid breathing. What was wrong with him?

I shouldn't be… It shouldn't be like this…

Zack paced the bedroom, running his free hand through his hair, only to grip it painfully by the roots. He'd never been so overcome, not since the day Angeal died. The day I murdered him.

Why? Why could he not just run out there and hug his friend? Several times he'd gone to the door, ready to open it, but held back each time. He just… couldn't.

Oh, why did things have to be this way? Why did Sephiroth have to go insane? His best friend had tried to kill him! One day they were pals and the next, so unexpectedly, the world was consumed in fire, and there was murder in his General's eyes. How could Sephiroth have done that!

Zack still didn't understand. He'd rescued each and every one of Sephiroth's memories in the Lifestream, understood his longing for a family that loved him, felt his need to know, to understand, who he was and where he'd come from in a world full of people so different. He knew of Sephiroth's frustration with the lack of answers and the small shred of incredulous hope and fear upon glimpsing that first document in the ShinRa mansion library…

But how had he gone from that to the monster that had ripped everyone's dreams away and burnt Zack's heart to ashes?

The monster that had left Zack to rot in a lab buried beneath the knowledge and care of the world, with a young infantryman who never had a chance and who Zack had no hope of protecting from experiments that…

Oh Gaia… the experiments…

What Zack wouldn't give to rip those poisoned memories from his soul.

Four years of steel and needles and blades of agony… Hojo had been a master craftsman, and he'd made pain into a very real and solid thing, and let it snack on them, and it ate them alive while they screamed and begged and could do nothing.

And when Pain's hunger was temporarily diminished, but oh, it was never finished, never satisfied… Then they'd be given to Mako, and Mako would swallow them whole in its burning, freezing embrace, and drown them alive. And it would be the excruciatingly slow death of a thousand souls that gradually crept through the mind and whispered words without sounds and ideas without meaning. And the time spent with Mako would last an eternity, until you felt you must be as old as the Planet, for you were certainly weary enough… But Mako was always older, deeper, always more than you were, uncomprehendingly so, and incessantly pressed that upon you, even as it drained you away to nothing.

And then, when there was nothing left, Pain would be hungry again.

And then you'd wish that there really had been nothing left.

And Sephiroth had left him there. At the moment that Zack needed him most, the one time Zack needed his hero to rescue him more than any other… he was gone.

When Zack and Cloud escaped, and the nightmares began – for when had they ever truly ended since that red night in Nibelheim? – they still hadn't been safe. ShinRa pursued them, hunted them like animals, until Zack grew to fear corners and open spaces, daylight and moonlight, sharp noises and silence.

It was like that for a year. A whole year of freedom and fear, hope, uncertainty, desperation and dreams… A year of Whys? and Hows? and Whens? and What Ifs?… And at the end of it all, salvation had been taken.

And given.

And taken again, and there were at least four more years of torture of a different sort. This time, directly at Sephiroth's hands.

Nine years. Nine years since Zack's friend vanished and given him a monster in his place.

But Sephiroth was sane now.

Gaia… he's really sane.

It was about time.

It's too late.

Finally.

What if it's a trick?

The nightmare had ended.

Had it really?

What do I do now… Sephiroth?

Can I forgive that easily?

You always forgive…

Not always. Not since…

Hojo.

…What I want… so much… is to call you… my friend.

Seph.

Seph…iroth. Seph…

Sephiroth.

We're friends. …Right…?

For a long time, Sephiroth sat in the small living room. Had anyone been there, he might have seemed a statue, for all he moved.

He felt numb. Zack's reactions were not surprising; in fact, considering everything, Sephiroth supposed he'd taken things rather well. But even so… it hadn't gone the way he'd expected. Or perhaps he should say it hadn't gone the way he'd hoped. He hadn't known what he expected; indeed, hadn't really expected anything. He would like to think he hadn't been foolish enough to hope for anything either, but clearly, a small part of him had.

It had been the small part of him that had awoken, years ago, when he'd first understood the value of friendship.

It was strange to think that, after many years of calling Genesis and Angeal friends, and then the short, but vibrant years of Zack bouncing into his life, that all of it had been given up in a single wretched night.

He supposed that the tapestry of his life had begun to fray at some point, when his friendship with the other Firsts had become strained. And, little by little, it must have unraveled. As time went on, he supposed, he must have lost something critical of himself. Though he thought he had begun to become whole again, once he had Zack. …But maybe, there was still a part of himself, his most inner doubts and questions, that he'd never revealed to the young SOLDIER, and so never received help for. Likely, he'd tried to ignore it all, until it was too late.

And Jenova? It was strange, but Sephiroth's pride refused to allow himself to foist all the blame upon her, when it was clearly Sephiroth's own hidden darknesses that she preyed upon. But at the same time, Sephiroth found it impossible to believe that he would have completely lost his senses if she hadn't been goading him, whispering at him from the corners of his mind.

If he'd never gone to Nibelheim, would things have turned out differently?

To believe that…

It would be the cause of madness of a different sort, he thought, dryly.

No, he would not waste time with What Ifs. Truthfully, even before Nibelheim, he'd begun to feel that something was wrong. If anything, with Jenova's insidiousness, she would have continued to act from the shadows, and, Nibelheim or no, something would have happened. Something would have had to give at some point.

And who's to say that it wouldn't have turned out worse than it had, if that was even conceivable?

Hmph. Of course, that line of thinking would make it sound that Jenova held most of the blame.

Perhaps, trying to identify the true culprit was pointless, after all. In the end, Jenova and Sephiroth had been the same. And Sephiroth would forgive neither.

Now Hojo… He was a different matter entirely. Zack had once said that he blamed Hojo for everything that went wrong. If the computer was acting up, it was Hojo's fault. Elevator stuck? Hojo. Flower wilted? Hojo had glanced at it. Cafeteria food taste funny? Hojo!

…Perhaps the cafeteria food wasn't actually that much of a stretch, now that Sephiroth thought about it.

In any case, there could be no doubt that Hojo was the root of all their problems. Or had been, at any rate, for he was dead now as well, and his soul consumed in Sephiroth's own black scheming.

He allowed himself to feel a small amount of satisfaction at that knowledge.

He sighed. None of that helped the current situation, however. He dearly wished he knew what to do for Zack. But with himself the source of all Zack's turmoil, that was impossible.

Take heart, Seph, because this isn't gonna be easy. For either of us.

Sephiroth frowned. Where had he heard that? It sounded like Zack's words, but…

Ahh. The memory Zack had said that to him. Sephiroth wished he could go back and speak with that Zack, ask for advice… but then, would it really do any good? That Zack had said himself that he was merely a part of Sephiroth, so didn't know anything that Sephiroth didn't already know. But even so, to speak with someone about it, even if it was another aspect of himself, would be immensely helpful.

Even better if Angeal appeared again.

Sephiroth glanced at the door to Zack's room. He'd been in there a long time… How long should Sephiroth wait? He didn't want to rush his younger friend, but didn't want Zack to think he was being avoided, either.

…If it had been Sephiroth who was upset and unsure, what would Zack do about it? If he couldn't actively comfort his friend for fear of it not going well, but would not leave his friend alone either, what would he do?

Well, that was easy. Zack would simply be there, waiting to lend an ear, showing support by his very presence. He wouldn't ignore anyone, but wouldn't force himself upon them either, making sure that his door was always open. He'd probably do his best to act like his normal, cheerful self, while still recognizing the problem and making sure the other knew that it would be okay.

So that's what Sephiroth would do. Well, minus the "cheerful self" part.

And the first order of business was to make sure Zack's injuries had finally finished healing. He'd used a single, low-level Cure a while ago, once he'd been sure that Zack's shoulder blade had been properly pieced together, to accelerate the healing process while at the same time avoiding the stress a high level Cure might put on his body. It was time to finish the job.

Slowly, the General stood and walked to the door. Hesitating for the barest of moments, he rapped softly on it.

"Zack? …May I come in?"

There was a long pause.

"…Sure." It was quiet, hesitant.

The door slid quietly open, and Sephiroth found Zack sitting on the side of the bed, twirling a white feather between his fingers. He approached, moving to sit beside his friend, but keeping a comfortable distance between them. He was mindful of the way Zack tensed at his presence.

"…That was Angeal's, wasn't it?"

"…Yeah. …I found it the first time he showed me his wings."

"You kept it all this time?"

Zack shrugged. "I wanted something to remind me of him. …Though Angeal always said that wings were the mark of a monster."

"…Do you believe that?"

"…'Wings symbolize freedom for those who have none.' I used to believe that."

"And now?"

Those wings… I want them too. "…I still do."

Sephiroth fell silent for a few minutes. This was still very difficult. "…Zack…"

"…Hey, how long 're we gonna beat about the bush?" Sephiroth glanced up at Zack, who finally raised his eyes to meet Sephiroth's own. The tension was still visible in the young First, but there was a smile there too. It didn't quite reach his eyes, it was small, but it was still genuine. "You know… I'm glad… really… that you're finally you. You don' know how long…" His voice cracked, and he hid it behind a cough. "…I've… I've been waiting."

Sephiroth allowed a sad smile of his own, and reached to lay a hand on Zack's shoulder. He froze for an instant at the way Zack's shoulders bunched just slightly, and noted the flash of guilt across his face. He continued the gesture anyway, but removed his hand after a short moment, not wanting to force too much upon his friend.

"I'm proud of you, Zack."

Surprised at the unexpected compliment, Zack's eyes widened. "…Really?"

Sephiroth nodded. "I know that I can never understand everything you've been through. But to push through it all, and the way you found me in the Lifestream… No one else could have done that, Zack. I would not have blamed you had you left me behind. In fact, I cannot understand why you did not, after everything…" He trailed off. "…But I am profoundly grateful for what you've done."

Zack stared at him, at a loss. "I… It wasn't anything, really…"

"It was everything, Zack."

The young SOLDIER gazed at him, tormented eyes finally taking the time to see, really see, the way his features were relaxed, though sad, not twisted with the madness of the past nine years, the way the emerald eyes were clear and free of the hate that had possessed him so, reflecting only a deep regret. The way his mouth quirked up ever so slightly in the smallest of smiles, sad, yet sincere, echoing the kindness in his eyes.

"…Gaia, Seph… It's really you…" The barest hint of incredulity colored his voice.

A firm nod. "Yes." The use of the nickname never sounded so good to his ears.

Zack let out a cry of mixed joy and grief and threw himself across the bed into Sephiroth's arms. This was the Sephiroth from Zack's memories, those of so long ago that he'd never thought he'd see him again. It was the Sephiroth that Zack had fought for, searched for, the one he'd never truly given up on even when he believed he had, the one that had defended Zack against his own evil doppelganger.

Sephiroth caught him and held him tight, his own eyes tearing up. "Gaia, I am so sorry, Zack."

Zack shook his head. "No, it's my fault… my fault… I should've known what was happening and done something…"

"Done what? There was nothing you could have-"

"I should have been able to! Stayed with you or dragged you up outta there… Burned all the books or killed Jenova…"

"You couldn't have known what would happen."

"I should've! I knew something was wrong! I knew!"

"Zack. Enough," Sephiroth commanded gently, but firmly. "This isn't doing any good."

"…But…"

"No." And when Zack tried to protest again, Sephiroth simply tightened his arms around his friend, letting his chin rest upon the soft spikes of his hair.

They stayed like that for several minutes, until Zack's ragged breathing calmed, and his good arm loosened its hold upon Sephiroth. There was still a tension running through the young man's body, though, so Sephiroth slowly pulled away to see the exhaustion and pain clouding Zack's eyes. He frowned.

"Did the doctor clear you to leave the infirmary?"

Zack glanced away, guiltily. "…Sort of." He hadn't been there to say Zack couldn't go, after all.

Sephiroth was skeptical. "Zack…"

"It was a lab, Seph." Zack shot him a rather accusatory stare, as if he should have known. "I wasn't about to stick around."

Sephiroth sighed, then nodded his acceptance. "Alright. But you need to rest. After I finish healing your injuries."

Zack rolled his eyes. "I've got a Restore. I can do it myself." He began to stand, heading for the Buster propped up in the corner, but Sephiroth stopped him.

"No, you can't."

"What-"

"You don't have the energy. You'll exhaust yourself even further." He pulled his own Restore from a pocket. "I'll do it."

Zack let out a long sigh. "Fine." He slipped off Yori's cloak, and proceeded to unbutton and shrug out of the thin shirt when Sephiroth motioned for him to do so, revealing the layers of bandages wrapped around his chest and abdomen.

Carefully, Sephiroth prodded at Zack's side and shoulder, seeking to determine how well they'd healed so far, but only succeeded in causing Zack to squirm in discomfort.

"Hey, you gonna use that materia or not?"

"Be patient," Sephiroth murmured, unwrapping the bandages to get a better look at the injuries. Zack grumbled but allowed him to work.

When the bindings had been stripped away, Sephiroth examined him critically. He friend was thinner than the General remembered, but that was to be expected. The gash in Zack's side had begun to knit shut, likewise with the wound in his shoulder, and the cut along Zack's neck was no longer of any concern. It was as he'd expected from the low-level Cure he'd cast, and the Mako in Zack's system going to work. He'd follow up with a stronger spell, now that Zack was ready for it, and that should be the end of things.

Resting his palm lightly against the most grievous of the wounds, Sephiroth fingered the Restore, reaching inside to pull out the magic. He felt it flow around and through him as the materia's soft glow brightened, and directed it along his arm and into his friend. The glow surrounded Zack for several moments, soothing the pain and relaxing taut muscles, then finally sunk into the wounds. They mended together, fading away.

Zack sighed in relief, feeling his eyes shut. He slumped forward.

Sephiroth caught him. "Zack, come on, stay awake just a bit longer." He pushed his friend back into an upright position.

Zack mumbled something, which sounded very much like, "What for?" causing Sephiroth to smile slightly in amusement.

"I need to ensure everything's healed properly." He propped Zack up, until his friend had stirred himself awake enough to help out. Then he proceeded to inspect his healing efforts.

The wounds had all but vanished, leaving only thin red marks as any indication that they'd been there. Another Cure would clear those up, but it was unnecessary, as they'd fade on their own. He pressed lightly on them, making sure there was no more pain.

"Do you feel anything?"

"No… 'm fine…"

Sephiroth nodded in satisfaction. Then he frowned, suddenly noticing other marks upon Zack's skin.

Along both arms, faint but still noticeable, were tiny white pinpricks and thin lines, crisscrossing the skin. They were very straight and precise, almost surgical in nature…

Sephiroth's blood ran cold.

It was Hojo's work. And the very presence of the scars indicated that there had been no materia used to heal them.

His eyes flicked over the rest of Zack's skin, noting similar marks, long cuts, having been inflicted across Zack's entire torso. Without looking, he knew that Zack's legs would likely bear the same scarring. Sephiroth gritted his teeth. There was no punishment great enough for Hojo's sins.

Something else caught his eye, more distinct from the rest of the scarring. A narrow scar ran from the inner edge of Zack's right collarbone, at a steep, diagonal angle across his chest.

I have been chosen to rule this Planet.

Sephiroth jerked his hand back as if burned. This was the very injury he'd inflicted on Zack during their duel in the Nibelheim reactor… the one that finished the battle and sealed Zack's fate.

And directly over Zack's heart, another mark, that of a thin, white diamond… With growing apprehension, Sephiroth moved around Zack to look at his back. The same mark appeared there, distinct among additional pale scars. He raised a hand to trace its shape.

Look upon your fate, and despair.

It was the wound Sephiroth had dealt Zack in the Lifestream, the one piercing straight through his heart. Sephiroth's hand trembled.

Why was it even visible? It hadn't been an injury to Zack's physical body – he hadn't possessed one in the Lifestream.

No, it had simply been inflicted upon his soul.

His soul… For the mark to be visible now, upon Zack's body… It must have wounded him incredibly deeply.

"Hey… Somethin' wrong?" Zack asked in a sleepy voice, craning his neck to look over a shoulder. He'd been largely unaware of all that Sephiroth was doing, but had felt his hand shake upon his back.

Sephiroth shook himself back to the present. "No." It wouldn't do to let his friend in upon his thoughts, not yet. He transferred his fingers to Zack's newly healed shoulder blade, seeking any discomfort. Upon hearing no protest, he carefully prodded the area. In response, Zack twisted slightly and shrugged the shoulder, pushing back. Sephiroth's brow quirked in amusement.

"Done yet?" Zack yawned.

"Yes. Everything seems… alright." Nothing is alright. "Get some sleep."

"Finally!" Zack fell back onto the pillow. Sephiroth helped him beneath the covers.

As Sephiroth caught sight of Zack's bare feet, he sighed in exasperation. "Zack, didn't you find the slippers?"

"…What slippers?"

"The ones I left next to the chair."

"…No…" Mumbling something else, Zack snuggled into the pillow, eyes half-lidded.

Sephiroth grunted. "I left them in a perfectly good place. You just weren't paying attention."

There was another tired mumble, which sounded like, "Bare feet are better anyway," and Zack was fast asleep.

Sephiroth took a moment to finish tucking in his friend, then stepped back, considering the quiet form.

The quiet, living form, breathing peacefully under the covers. Zack had been through so much, suffered so much pain. The cruel reminders of it were laced not only across his body, but through his very soul, too.

Sephiroth was glad that his friend had been able to accept his presence, but he could not believe that that was the end of things. There had been a shadow hidden behind Zack's eyes, and Sephiroth suspected that the tension in his body had been due to more than the pain of his injuries. He just hoped that they'd be able to work through things as they cropped up.

Sephiroth paused as he was about to turn and exit the room, catching sight of the black cloak on the floor. Frowning, he bent to pick it up. He recognized it as Yori's… The man had mentioned that he'd run into Zack, and Sephiroth supposed it was believable that Yori would have given his friend the garment, considering how perpetually chilly it was on the ship. But something about it didn't sit right with him; he would almost have preferred Yori not give Zack the cloak at all.

Shaking his head at the ridiculous feeling, Sephiroth palmed off the lights, taking the cloak with him, and headed into the living room. He had much thinking to do.

to be continued...