All right-I have not given up on this story and I am so sorry it's taken me so shamefully long to get this chapter posted. I've had exams at school, so loads to do, and some personal problems as well to deal with, but basically I'm really sorry I've made you wait so long, I don't have a good enough excuse! Anyway, here it is, at last, and I just pray it was worth the wait!

Chapter 3:

Cloud stumbled back in bewildered panic, staring down at his hands, glowing so intensely and eerily the colour of his nightmares. His gaze flashed up to the faces of his attackers and he saw his own terror reflected there; his breath was coming too fast, utter blazing panic shooting through him. What was happening? What was this? As if a flash of green fire had come out of him, had seared the imprint of his hand into the other man's skin-what did it mean? How was it possible?

"What are you?" hissed the injured man. "Some kind of demon?" Cloud could only stare back, at a complete loss for words. Demon? Maybe he was. Who knew what Hojo had done to him, who knew what he had become-he shook his head in speechless panic, clenching his hands desperately, trying to extinguish the flaring green light. Use it! the voice in his head that sounded like Zack ordered frantically. Act like you know what you're doing! Scare them off! But he could not, he was too afraid, too broken, too confused-too weak. I'm sorry, he told Zack silently. I'm sorry-I can't-you chose the wrong legacy, Zack. The wrong person…

"He's no demon," another man snarled. "He's just a kid, Dow, and he's seen us!"

Dow, the injured one, stood there clasping his burned arm, appraising Cloud with a mixture of wariness and slowly growing scorn. Cloud fought to breathe, fought to stand upright. To speak.

"Get…get away from me!" he said shakily. "I'll…I'll kill you-" His voice was cracked and unconvincing, he sounded like a panicked child. Dow and his companions evidently thought so too. Dow lifted his uninjured hand to signal to his men, and a snarl curved his lips.

"Kill him," he said simply.

Cloud lunged for Zack's sword, lying in the dust, snatching it up and whirling round to face them-his speed and strength might have been mako-enhanced but his body was weak and trembling, and even that movement made him dizzy. He swung the sword at the first of his attackers, and the great blade cleaved into the man' chest-he fell back, gurgling blood, but the others were still coming on and Cloud could not fight them all-the whole world became a nightmare of flashing bodies all around, of blood and pain and movement, and he felt his hands torn from the hilt of the sword, saw again that flash of green but this time it deterred no-one-he was flung to the ground so hard he was stunned, felt someone straddle his chest and the blows strike his face again and again, pain exploding until all he could see was blood and the bleared broken pieces of the sky. He felt knives stabbing into his hands, his sides, their fists and feet knocking him to fragments-he lashed out and mako green light flared but no-one screamed, no-one cared. He could not believe that it was going to end like this, that after everything he was going to die at the hands of a band of thugs, that Zack's sacrifice would be squandered for this-

Zack…

In that instant Cloud could not tell who he was, could not distinguish himself from his memories of his best friend, his brother. All he knew was that somehow he was on his feet again and shattering through them all, fighting with all the speed and skill of a SOLDIER, his hands punching into their faces, green swathes of light cutting out and burning, burning. Fire blazing from his hands like laser. He was aware of shouts of pain, his own desperate gasping for breath, a chaos of movement and violence, rushes of colour and blurring faces under the mako fire spiking through everything. At some point he somehow managed to grasp Zack's sword again and then it all span faster, bloodier, and he was slaughtering them with a sudden pure efficiency, as if somebody else fought through him, obliterating his own confused, weakened, desperate exterior. And then somehow he was alone, and all was still and quiet, and he lowered the sword, standing motionless and trembling with exertion in the middle of a field of corpses. He looked around through raw, blood-smeared eyes, and he felt nothing but a kind of empty brokenness. Suddenly there was nothing of Zack left-suddenly he was just Cloud once more, and as vulnerable to the wild winds of fate and reality and life as ever.

And a final figure came running up from the shadows of the rocks, and that was all it took. Cloud recognised his face and his mind simply shut down-pain and blood loss and exhaustion mingled with pure heart-stopping shock to overcome him, and he crumpled down in the middle of the bloody battlefield and saw his world fade to black.

…

Zack had seen the light from afar, the swinging curves of green radiance from the stony ridges of the quarry, but he had never imagined that it could be anything to do with Cloud. How could it have been? And yet his old instinct of curiosity had taken him and he had broken into a run, reaching the quarry in minutes. From the top of the cliff he had seen it all-seen the small, slight, spiky-haired figure swinging among the thugs dealing death in all directions, seen the sword in one hand with which he smashed bodies apart-seen from the other hand the explosions of mako green light. Shock had paralysed him for an instant and then he had started scrambling down the nearest scree slope to the bottom of the quarry, and by the time he arrived it was all over, the panting, trembling figure of his best friend standing there alone surrounded by corpses.

Zack ran forwards-Cloud turned towards him, covered in blood, skin seared by numerous injuries, face bruised and torn, his hands still glowing faintly green. Zack saw the shock register in his eyes, felt the surge of relief and amazement and joy and fear inside himself, and then the slight form before him just collapsed to the bloody earth, and it was all replaced by concern. Zack ran forwards, too late to catch his friend as he fell, dropping to his knees beside the curled and broken body of his lost friend.

"Cloud! Hey, Cloud-can you hear me?" He scanned Cloud's body swiftly, taking in the injuries and wounds, then looked up to examine the battlefield-nine corpses littered the bottom of the quarry. He shook his head in disbelief-having read the extent of Cloud's weakness from the uneven, broken trail he could never have believed that anyone could have gone on to achieve something like this.

And that green light-what was it?

Zack shoved the question from his mind. The main thing now was to get them both to safety and deal with Cloud's injuries, and then they could deal with that kind of difficulty. He shook his friend gently, but Cloud did not respond-his body and mind seemed to have completely shut down, and Zack did not really blame them for it. He had carried Cloud so long; it was as if nothing had changed. He dared not sling his friend over his shoulder for fear of aggravating his wounds, so he lifted him in his arms, cradling him like a child, and sheathing the sword over his back in the old manner, he moved away from the battlefield to find somewhere far enough away to count as shelter.

…

Cloud regained consciousness slowly, first coming into awareness of the hard rock surface beneath him, the warmth of some soft fabric laid over him. Cold air touched his face, and with it the smell of burning-he heard the crackling of a small fire. Where was he? He struggled to open his eyes but it was like trying to lift lead weights-he felt weak and tired as a newborn. What had happened?

The fight. That light. And then-Zack-

He shot bolt upright, eyes snapping open, flashing wildly around to fix on the figure who sat across the little cavern against the backdrop of the night sky, carefully cleaning the blood from his massive sword. This figure started, then smiled.

"Good to see you awake, Spiky."

Cloud flung up his arms to shield his eyes, huddling back into the cave wall. "No," he moaned. "No no no, I'm going crazy…no…" This could not be true, could not be-his mind had snapped, then, that explained everything, and now what was he going to do? He heard his illusion shuffle across the cavern and grip his shoulders, anchoring him, but Cloud flinched away, unable to believe it, unable to bear it.

"You're dead," he mumbled desperately. "You're dead, you're not here, you're not here…"

"Hey! Cloud, look at me! Cloud!" It was Zack's voice, Zack's presence, Zack's face. It hurt so horrifically to know that it was not really Zack. His very mind was mocking him, torturing him. He shook his head wildly, not daring to look.

"Spiky, it's me, it's okay! I'm not dead, I'm right here, okay? I'm here…"

"I'm going crazy," Cloud whispered, still covering his eyes, hands pressed so closely to his face it hurt, but he could not move them to relieve it. "This isn't happening…"

"You're not crazy," Zack said quietly. "I swear. Just look at me, okay? I promise it's me. It's okay, Spike."

No! Cloud's mind insisted. This is mad, this is crazy-don't look. If you just don't look maybe it'll be okay…but the trust that instinctively flowered within him at the sound of that voice, the desperate need to find Zack miraculously alive again, proved stronger than his doubts. He removed his hands from his eyes, blinking in the firelight as he looked up into that face he knew better than his own. Zack looked concerned, uncertain, but relieved, and he smiled.

"It's really me, Spike," he said gently. Cloud just stared.

"But…how?" he whispered at last. "You…you died, Zack, I…I saw you…you were so badly hurt, you couldn't've…"

"I don't understand either," Zack admitted. "But…uh…here I am!" He would not yet reveal to Cloud his own suspicions about the mako's long-term effects on his friend-something he was becoming more and more interested in, having seen him fight with that bright green light. Right now Cloud looked too spooked and fragile to take anything else in.

"But this is impossible," Cloud said in a dazed tone of voice. "How…how'd you-"

"How'd I find you? I followed your trail, Spike. Finally found you just in time to miss a good fight, and then you went and passed out on me again, so I brought you here."

"Uh-thanks?" Cloud offered in bewilderment. Zack grinned.

"Not like I'm not used to it. I gotta say, it feels good to be having an actual conversation with you again…" He trailed off, suddenly suspecting the reason for Cloud's expression of confusion. "You do…you do know what happened, don't you?" he said apprehensively.

Cloud nodded, barely perceptively. "Hojo," he whispered, his voice taking on the hushed dread of the horror story. "And then-you…you got us out, you carried me, Zack, you…I was awake, sometimes."

"Awake?"

"Sometimes I knew you were there, I knew what you were doing, only I couldn't move, couldn't speak…" His voice caught and he took a deep breath. "It was like being trapped inside my own body…it hurt, Zack, really bad, and I couldn't tell what was nightmare and what was real…sometimes I couldn't wake up. For a long time, I think. And then I knew you were there. You…" He looked down, shy suddenly. "You gave up everything for me."

"It wasn't just me," Zack said quietly, intently. "You were all I had left, Cloud. If you hadn't been there in the lab I'd have killed myself, or given in, long ago, or become something…else. I couldn't have made it without you. And there were so many times when if I hadn't had to look after you out there I'd have just jumped off a cliff-you were all I had to fight for, Spike."

"But I know what you did for me," Cloud said fiercely. "And I can never tell you how-"

"Don't thank me," Zack said. "It's over and all we can do is try to forget it. Okay? We have to think of the future." Both of them knew it would be far easier said than done, that both were haunted by their memories as by malevolent ghosts that would never stop tormenting them, but the only way was forwards now, towards anything but that.

Cloud tried to smile his agreement, tried hard. He was too confused and too hurt right then to be able to believe in any kind of future, but just being with Zack again seemed to fill him with strength. "Okay," he said softly. Zack grinned that old flashing grin.

"Great. Well, right now you need to sleep, you were hurt pretty bad."

Cloud shook his head. "I don't want to sleep."

Zack looked at him intently, clearly reading him like an open book. "I'm not going anywhere, Spike. I'll be right here when you wake up."

Cloud met his eyes with a kind of desperate innocence. "You swear?"

"I swear."

…

Zack leaned back against the cave wall as Cloud finally slipped back into unconsciousness. He did not feel in the least tired, though it must have been nearing midnight and he had not closed his eyes the previous night. He felt…full of energy, strong and ready and buoyed up by confidence, physically. Inside he was a mess of conflict add turmoil. For all his bravado before Cloud he was terrified at the thought of the future-where could they go, and what could they do? It was not, after all, so easy to start a new life, to base a whole world on a nightmare that had shattered all they had ever known.

His gaze strayed to his friend's still, bruised face, his tight-clenched eyes, as he lay along the back of the cave under a cloak Zack had taken from one of the dead men, curled up like a child against the threat and fear of his universe, spikes of fair hair falling jaggedly into his face. Even asleep Cloud looked more alive and more real than he had for months, and Zack felt a burning relief at the knowledge. Oh, for sure Cloud was going to be weakened, traumatised-there could be any number of after-effects to a torture like that he had suffered. It was going to be a long, hard road to recovery and it was not over yet. But Zack had almost given up hope that Cloud would ever be back to normal, ever wake from his mako-poisoned semi-coma, and just seeing his eyes open and hearing his voice meant a miracle.

A miracle that they could surely use to build their lives on. He, Zack, was alive, and Cloud was recovering at last, both of which had seemed impossible only days ago, and there was a way forward.

He frowned as he looked at his friend. Cloud's face looked panicked, unhappy, and as Zack watched he turned his head restlessly to the side, fists clenching. He was dreaming. Moments later he was struggling in his sleep, lashing out as if fighting torture, and Zack heard him yell as if in pain, or driving terror. He crossed the cave, worried, to try and wake Cloud, and right then he saw it again-that flash of green about his hands. Fear pulsed inside Zack-the mako had done something to Cloud, something unexplainable, something bizarre that neither of them could have expected.

"Cloud! Wake up!"

Cloud was lying pinned to the ground and an entire army of twisted black demons was crowding in on him, laughing their icy cackles and trailing their searing hands up and down his face. One drew to the forefront and he knew it, suddenly, that pinched malicious face, the half-moon glasses and tufty dark hair-Hojo. "An interesting reaction," he was saying dispassionately. "I must try increasing the dosage." And then Cloud flung up his hands in a desperate, final defence and wild emerald light was erupting all around-he saw it burn through the faces of his assailants, and he felt it sear right through him, shattering him, burning him into the earth, and he screamed as the agony struck through him-

Hands on his shoulders, someone shaking him. A voice yelling his name. He shot up, blind and gasping and panicked, lashing out. He heard a muffled curse.

"Dammit Spiky-"

"Zack?" he gasped. He forced his eyes open, still trapped in the nightmare, glancing around frantically as the shadows lunged forwards-his eyes fell on Zack's face and he relaxed, sank back, trembling.

"One hell of a nightmare," Zack commented. Cloud nodded, hunching deeper into the cloak he had been covered with-Zack had taken it from one of the men he had killed. "Sorry."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about," Zack pointed out. He was just relieved that the bizarre green light was gone-he was going to have to talk to Cloud about that some time soon, but right now he didn't think either of them could face it. "Want to tell me about it?"

Cloud shook his head. "Just…everything," he muttered. There was a silence-for a while Zack thought Cloud had fallen asleep again, but then after a few minutes he spoke:

"Zack," he said. "Before today, I'd never killed anyone." And then he closed his eyes and sank back into the world of his nightmares.

I hope you liked this chapter and I'll try to post the next one pretty soon, again I apologise for the shameful delay for this one. Please let me know what you thought!