I forgot to say this before-I DO NOT OWN FINAL FANTASY OR ANYTHING YOU RECOGNISE FROM THE GAME.

Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed this story and encouraged me to continue it-I know it's taken a while, but I finally have the next chapter done! I wanted to prove I could since next week I'll be in Italy on holiday and I wanted to have this story really started before I left… I hope you like it…

Chapter 2:

There was too much world.

It was all too big, too far, too terrifying. Cloud's last clear memories were of cramped cells and laboratories, small rooms and low ceilings. Ropes binding. He had been out of there for some time now, but this was the first time he had seen the sky since he could remember, and what he did see struck a nameless panic through his heart. There was just too much of it, and it was so wild and so untethered-he was not used to it and he did not want to be alone to face it.

But he had no choice.

The sky was stained purple-grey with twilight now, and he could see his shadow stretching long and dark as a giant's before him across the plains. Looking ahead there was only a wild wasteland of rocks and desert and loneliness-empty. In his path a craggy chasm of standing stones and spurs of rock like broken teeth had opened, and he was making his cautious way down a little dry scree-slope, thinking that he would feel safer at the bottom, where he would be less exposed. He still dragged Zack's sword behind him; he had been holding onto it for so long now he felt that his hands were fused to the hilt and would never come off. He did not think he would mind mind-the sword was the only security, the only thing of Zack he had…

He knew that he should think about finding food, water, shelter. But he was exhausted and he felt so sick and dizzy even the thought of eating made him want to retch. Taking care of himself could wait till tomorrow-for now he just needed to sleep. He continued on his weaving, unsteady path between the rock spurs until he found what he was looking for; a small alcove like a tiny cave, secluded and dark and safe, and crawled into it, pulling his knees up to his chest for warmth, curling into a small ball with one hand still clutching the hilt of the sword. Darkness swooped on beyond the cave, like the wings of some huge bird, doom-laden and freezing, and Cloud watched through numb, raw eyes.

Last night Zack died for me…

Pain burst through his heart and suddenly he was crying, great racking sobs of utter, devastating grief, each one so intense he was vaguely surprised it did not tear his soul straight from his body. He could not believe suddenly that Zack could be gone, that this person he loved more than anyone else, who had given everything to keep him alive, could truly be lying there on the cliff dead and destroyed when it should be Cloud gone from the world forever, Cloud who had nothing to live for…he could not believe that the sword he clutched so tightly it bruised his hand was Zack's, that Zack could call him his legacy.

I am no legacy. I'm just a failure who can't even keep himself alive, let alone anybody else's memory…Zack deserves more than me to prove he existed.

Crying uncontrollably, his sobs mingling with the heavy shudders of cold that passed through his body, Cloud drifted slowly and painfully into sleep. Around him the abyss whistled and sung with the wind cutting through its rocks and ledges, knifing around corners and hissing through tiny tunnels-the night was immense and impassionate, caring nothing for the lost, broken young warrior curled alone and terrified hidden deep down within its world. Too much world, as Cloud had thought, for one person to face alone. Too much.

Zack's face shimmered from beyond a haze of mako and nightmare-Cloud watched him as he would an angel, anyone free. He could not be sure if the green light was tormenting his body or Zack's, could not be sure of anything, only that they were separated by the poisonous chemical and Zack was staring at him though eyes cold as ice, or death.

"Zack," Cloud said, his voice echoing oddly. "I thought we got out of here. Are we still in the lab?"

Zack lifted his head and there was something almost like triumph burning in his fiery eyes. "Oh, we got out," he said quietly, with an intense and terrifying contempt. "I got you out and I carried you to safety, and I died for you. I gave you everything, Cloud. And what was it all for? What was the point?"

"You shouldn't have done it," Cloud whispered, understanding, dropping his gaze, unable to meet Zack's dead eyes. "I know. I didn't deserve it."

"No," Zack agreed cruelly. "You didn't. And you know what else, Cloud Strife? You know what's the funniest thing of all?"

Cloud did not want to know, but in his dream he had no choice. His eyes were dragged back up to Zack's and he heard clearly the words which tore him apart-"I was always free from here, ever since we escaped. But you, Cloud, you'll never be free. You're gonna be here your whole life, all alone, and you're gonna die here. After everything, you never really escaped, did you?"

And Zack's face beyond the mako was morphing into another, an old and cruel face, the face of Cloud's nightmares, Hojo's face with that sadistic scientific interest and that genteel, fervent voice, and Cloud was screaming now and could not stop, could not keep from banging his body off the walls of the glass container, over and over again, in desperation as he yelled Zack's name hopelessly, frantically-

He jerked awake, his scream dying off mid-breath, gasping and choking and crying. The night pulsed in on him, black and empty and clawing for his sanity like an invisible, enraged demon. Cloud fought free of the dream and came surging to his feet, stumbling outside the cave and leaning against the rock wall in the cold night air, dragging in deep, lung-cracking breaths. His head was spinning, he felt nauseous and dizzy and scared. Zack-Zack-would he really hate me? Would he…

He fell to his knees, retching emptily onto the ground. Suddenly he could not breathe. Where am I? he thought wildly. Where am I-how'd I get here? Zack, where's Zack? Where is he? Why'd he leave me?

Zack's dead. Dead for you…

He clutched his head in his hands, pulling viciously at his spiky fair hair at his scalp, eyes clenched shut as he fought to hold on to reality. Zack's dead and you have to live for him. You have to live…somehow…

"Zack," he whispered hopelessly. "Zack, I'm so, so sorry…"

…

Zack was still going strong-as soon as he had been up and moving the aches and pains thronging his body had seemed to lift away and leave him feeling…amazingly well, and fine. He did not understand how such a thing could be possible, even knowing mako as he did…

And could Cloud somehow have healed him? Was it possible?

But then a lot of things in their lives the past few years had not been possible, or sane, or right-and they had fought through it all and were still standing, against all odds.

Zack did not like being unarmed. Once it would not have mattered, but since their time in the lab he had grown too used to defending himself and Cloud, and walking about without a weapon of any kind just seemed immensely reckless, immensely stupid…although he knew countless people in the world lived their lives that way. Something had changed in Zack irrevocably-once not so long ago he had been so cocky, careless, cheerful, trusting. But the

last five years had served to show him something new about humanity, and he could no longer trust in his own kind as he had. He could no longer believe in the good within all people.

In some way, Cloud had never had to make that distinction. Oh, the kid had never been a sceptic or anything like that-it was just that, because of the way he had grown up, essentially alone, always shy and self-effacing, often bullied, and facing rejection from SOLDIER as he had, he had cultivated a kind of protective shield about him from the start, a wariness, a reluctance to trust; if he and Zack had not been thrown together in times of such duress, it would have been almost impossible for him to cement any friendship with Cloud at all. It was just the way he was. Zack might have seen more action, more bloodshed and warfare, but Cloud had experienced first hand what it was like to be a victim rather than a player in any of those crises.

It had not prepared him. It had not prepared either of them. But Cloud had not been as shocked by Hojo's potential for the acts of such inhumanity and evil he had inflicted upon them as Zack had. Maybe he had suffered more, but he had never believed that all human beings had that innate goodness in them Zack had always seen, and his own convictions had not been so challenged.

In any case, Zack had no choice about going unarmed. Cloud had his sword, and he was tracking Cloud, so it would not be long now. His friend's trail was easy to follow, though in places Zack's brow furrowed in concern-evident scuff marks or disturbances of the dirt indicated clearly where Cloud had stumbled and fallen; he was weak, and failing, and judging from his tracks alone, it looked as if by himself he would not last much longer. Odd how the thought of Cloud actually mobile was so strange-Zack had grown accustomed, reluctantly, to the idea that the kid might never recover from the mako poisoning, forever be dependent on him for everything. It had been so long now that taking care of Cloud had become Zack's entire life-he no longer knew what else there was to have come back for.

Aerith…

He pushed her image away. His first priority was to find Cloud.

He faced the setting sun and smiled as he shoved his overlong dark hair out of his eyes and pressed forwards-he relished the vibrant tug in his muscles, the life singing through his once-destroyed body. It felt good to be alive.

…

Cloud had finally fallen into an uneasy sleep somewhere around dawn, and did not hear the approach of the caravans. He lay very still, curled around Zack's sword, face hidden behind his spiky blond hair, tucked into the alcove and seeming small as a child in his vulnerability, so utterly exhausted that neither the clanking rumble of old, rusty engines nor the hoarse shouting of the caravans' occupants when they began to make camp was enough to rouse him.

"Why d'you want to sleep through the day anyways?"

"'Cause we drove all night to get away from the scene, you-"

"You don't think they'll find us here?"

"Why would they? Frickin' middle of nowhere…"

A tentative ray of sunlight found its way into Cloud's corner and slanted across his face-his eyes opened in surprise, blinking dazedly as he realised he was no longer alone. He raised his aching body into a sitting position, hand tightening on the hilt of Zack's sword, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"You selfish ****, that was the last beer…"

"One hell of a storm, that…"

"Good cover, though…" Men groaning, laughing. The sound of crackling fires, splashing water. Cloud did not move, wondering what to do. From this vantage point he could not see them, could not tell exactly how far away they were from his hiding place. If he tried to run they might spot him, and then he would be in trouble-he could not kid himself that he was in any condition to fight.

But he could not remain here. They sounded as if they were settling in for a long stay.

Cloud grabbed the edge of the rock wall and carefully poked his head around the outside of the alcove. So far, so good-he could not see them. He inched a little further out and his heart leaped into his mouth; they were there, barely metres from his hiding place, about ten of them grouped around a small campfire, the two heavy, rusty caravans parked a short distance away. Forcing himself to breathe quietly, Cloud considered them-they were all bigger than he was, and many of them bore guns and knives. They had a rough air about them-clearly they were not the kind of gang to be taken lightly. What was more, judging from the snippets of their conversation he could hear, they were running from something and sounded like some kind of criminals. Cloud knew that with all the mako in his system his strength and speed and reflexes were going to be superior to those of other humans-that is, they would be if he was not still disabled by his own reactions to the stuff. He was seriously weakened from his long bout of mako poisoning, he was tired and confused and he had not eaten or drunk anything since he could remember.

Maybe he was superhuman. But he was sick as well, and he could not fight them all off like this.

Zack could have.

He pushed the thought and the accompanying twinge of pain away. You're not Zack. Suck it up.

He was Cloud, and he was going to have to get out of this his way.

He inched his way out of the cave, holding the sword high so that it did not scrape along the ground and wishing vainly that he had some kind of scabbard for it. Pressing close to the rock wall he crept away from the caravans, sucking in his chest and trying to believe himself invisible: if he could just get round the next corner he would be safe-he tripped, horribly, as a wave of unexpected dizziness washed over him, stumbled. A large stone came wrenching out of the ground and clattered a couple of feet out across the gully floor, clanging and echoing with each roll as if the earth was no more solid than crumpled paper or brittle glass. Cloud froze stiff where he stood.

The men turned, called to each other, got to their feet. Cloud tried to move, to run, but fell again over another stone and went crashing to the ground, cursing, panicking now. By the time he had regained his feet they were on him and he felt strong hands grab his shoulders, yanking him backwards; he struggled desperately but could not get free. Abruptly he remembered the sword and swung it wildly. It did not connect with anything, but the men leaped back out of its range, leaving Cloud standing facing them, trembling, determinedly hopeless with the sword almost as tall as he was clasped so tightly in his two hands his knuckles were white. They pressed in on him, sneering, sniggering, their hot, mean eyes and gleaming skinheads morphing them, in Cloud's nightmare perception, into demons of the abyss.

"What have we here, then?" one of them demanded, pushing to the front. He was over six feet tall and wore a leather jacket and boots with spurs-he must have weighed at least twice as much as Cloud did. "Any of you think this kid can actually use that stick?" A chorus of raucous dissent.

"I mean you no harm," Cloud said a little shakily. "I'll go and leave you, I swear. I don't-"

"Yes, but you've seen us now, little boy," the man said again, drawing closer, folding his arms aggressively over his chest. "And we can't really take that kind of risk in our position, can we now lads?"

"I'm warning you," Cloud said, a note of desperation entering his voice. "If I have to fight you I will."

And that'll be a joke, won't it…

"Now that I'd like to see," the man told him scornfully, and faster than a striking snake leapt, knife flying, for Cloud's throat. Cloud brought up the sword, too late, twisted aside-he fell with his attacker on top of him, losing his grip on the sword. He yelled in panic, struggling desperately, jamming the knife's descent with his wrist. The man's face contorted in a sneer as he shoved down, bending Cloud's wrist back, grinding him into the dust.

And then something happened that no-one could have foreseen.

Cloud saw the first flash of green light and heard the man's howl of sudden agony, but did not process what had happened. The man scooted violently backwards, shoving himself away from Cloud clasping his knife arm to his chest, and when Cloud finally staggered to his feet and looked, he saw the imprint of his own hand, seared deep and black into his attacker's wrist. He stared, bewildered and amazed-then looked down at his own hands. He gasped.

They were glowing vividly green-a bright medicinal poison emerald. Mako green.

Okay, I'm not completely happy with this chapter, it doesn't seem particularly polished and I didn't have much time to edit it as much as I usually would or anything. But like I said, I really wanted to get it out before I left on holiday so…here it is and I hope it's not too bad! Zack and Cloud are going to meet up next chapter I think…and Cloud is going to have a lot of kickass moment later in the story, don't worry-I just thought that at this stage he was still going to be very weak and sick from the mako. Just to explain why he's not especially heroic here…please review!