Zack's mother always always described his ebullient approach to life with a mixture of exasperation and pride. At best, he was constantly curious, full of vim and vigor. It was a sign of intelligence, his mother said. Probably. At worst, she'd remind him that she hadn't gotten a restful night of sleep in years because of him.
"You kept me up even before you were born," she'd say. "I was half convinced you'd just kick your way out."
She sent him outside most of the time in the hope that he would just wear himself out. Whatever game of pretend he ended up playing, with himself or with the other children in town, he ended up playing the hero. If there was a princess to be saved, he was the knight. If there was a robber, then he was the cop. It came naturally to him. His mother hoped this would one day culminate into him becoming a doctor.
He hadn't considered a career in SOLDIER for the most part though, not really. He was peripherally aware of it; in an economically depressed region in the middle of nowhere filled with young men looking to get out, there were of course recruiters in and out all the time. His mother made him promise not to join. "The last thing I want," she'd say, "is for you to come home in a body bag."
Up to that point, He hadn't thought about his career possibilities all that much. He was fifteen, and while aware that his choices were limited, he still considered working the mines, even though he always overheard his father complaining after he got home from work, saying that those were starting to run dry. His father worried what that would mean for the family in a few years time. How he would put food on the table, and what that meant, since they didn't have the funds to move. At fifteen, these things didn't seem like tangible worries. He'd work in the mines or he'd find something else. There were always options, and there was always hope.
That changed the day his father came home early from work one day. He hadn't realized at that time his father had been let go, but he came home to find his father hunched over a newspaper spread on the kitchen table. He was struggling with the crossword puzzle, or rather, struggling with the pen he was using to fill out the crossword puzzle.
"God fucking damnit," his father yelled, hurling both the pen and the paper at the wall.
There was no crash. The paper fluttered down slowly, and the pen finally settled after rolling across the floor. Suddenly his father's growing reluctance to do the crossword, his worsening handwriting, all his jokes about his clumsiness, always dropping things- all of it had a sudden physicality to it. It could no longer be ignored, and it was now a part of their lives.
"Zack… Sorry, son. I didn't hear you come in."
His mother drove the point home. She held his face between her hands and said, "Your father can't go to work anymore. It's going to get worse from here on out, and I don't want you here for that. For the love of- at least I know they'll feed you at Shinra."
She held him so tight and for so long that he felt his body temperature rise. He wanted to squirm and get away, but he didn't. For her sake. The next day he packed his things and spoke to the recruiters for the first time. It would be a long time before he would see his family again.
For a long time, Sephiroth came across as a hero to Zack: powerful, poised, a man of almost mythic stature. Here, in the hospital room trying to take up as little space as possible, he perhaps never before appeared so human.
Now, Zack waits. Sephiroth shifts from foot to foot every now and then, and Zack momentarily considers thinking of something to break the silence before deciding against it. Disregarding the farce of intimacy that they've participated in together, Zack frequently finds himself sharp tongued when speaking with Sephiroth. It's not that he deserves it, and it's not exactly wise to talk to his superior like that, but the man always shrugs it off. Zack is always acutely aware that whatever has occurred between the two of them, Sephiroth is so far above him, so untouchable, and it is best to keep from getting attached. There are moments like this though, when Sephiroth almost does seem within reach, and it makes Zack want to try.
The doctor comes first, before he can say anything. The staff sends over a resident that is at last as young as him, and he approaches nervously. Without making eye contact, he says, "Sir, uh, Zachary Fair? They've got the results from your CT scan. We're, um, going to get you some morphine soon, by the way. We're just waiting on approval."
Zack cuts in before Sephiroth can. "Okay," he says, "and you said you had the results?"
"Yeah. It's blood clots in the lungs. We'll start the admitting process now."
"This is probably a stupid question, but is that serious? I mean, probably not that bad, right?"
"Yeah, it's, it's serious." The look on his face makes it seem like he can't even understand why Zack is asking. To be fair, the resident probably has a point.
"Do you know how many? Like, one? More? What are we talking here?"
"I didn't personally view your results, Mr. Fair. I'm afraid I don't know."
Suddenly, after hours of what seems like inactivity and waiting, everything sets into motion. They wheel him down a series of corridors into a sterile room where another man screams the entire night, and while nurses come in throughout the night to inquire about his health, no one ever brings the morphine they promised him.
Throughout it all, silently, Sephiroth stays beside him.
Author's Note: I understand, this is woefully short. It's our busy season at work, and after running our department's biggest even of the season, and working 12-13 hour days (including some time on the weekend as well), I am honestly surprised this got up at all. So I hope you can forgive me in that sense. Other than work, life has been trying at best. Writing has been a nice way to unwind at the end of the day. (Oh, who am I kidding? Writing and wine made the evenings pleasant.)
I really appreciate the reviews. I am not even going to try to play it cool, they made me positively giddy. I checked way more often than even made sense to see if more people had read this story, if there were any more reviews. So just know that you really made my week. Seriously, you guys rock. I have a pretty good sense of where the next chapter is heading, so with work finally slowing down in a few weeks, I hope I can work on this a little more.