Summary: Zack and Cloud arrive at Sector 5. There is a reunion (not the nasty one), and Zack's miraculous escape is discovered by Shinra.

Chapter 4: Honey I'm Home?

Zack couldn't believe he'd said that to Cloud. He'd only known the guy for… Well, Modeoheim didn't count since that was six years ago. And up until breakfast this morning didn't count either, because he'd been unconscious for all of it. So that was less than a day.

But Zack hadn't been lying. He would need friends, people he could trust. People who wouldn't force him to kill them.

Yeah. That seemed really important right now.

The road to Sector 5 had been carved through a mountain of rubble. The sides of it almost touched at one point. Cloud stabled Deza at the chocobo carriage stand that hadn't been there last time Zack had been down here. Neither had most of the buildings at this end of town.

They walked through the tunnel into a shantytown that was built of dirt and stubbornness more than anything else.

Aerith's home.

"There's a weaponsmith here," Cloud said as they walked around a crowd gathered in a small squarish space. "Makes sheaths and harnesses. Supposed to be decent."

"Yeah? I wonder how much he charges." Zack asked, even as he looked around. This part of Sector 5 was more like it had been before, but it was more crowded than Zack remembered. There were more buildings, all looking a lot sturdier than the ones in his memories.

Cloud tapped him on the arm and jerked his chin. At the top of a short path a small caravan was parked. There was an old guy with a cane sitting in a chair to one side, and Zack hoped that wasn't the weaponsmith.

It wasn't.

The guy at the window was older, but not ancient. He had spritely eyes and a quick smile. "How can I help you boys today?" He was hard to hear over the billboard blaring the news out over the crowd of watchers.

"When did they install that?" Zack asked, pointing at the huge screen.

"Oh, dunno. Maybe three, four years ago?" The weaponsmith rubbed his chin. "Let's us know what's going on in the world."

"Feeds everyone Shinra's propaganda, he means," Cloud said.

"Well, now, it's true you shouldn't trust everything you see on the screen, but they don't mean us any harm." Zack looked at Cloud, who had the same 'can you believe this guy' look that Zack was sure he was wearing.

"I hear you can make sword harnesses," Zack said, smile wide.

The guy nodded. "Sure can. In fact, I have some in stock." He turned to fetch them.

Zack reached out a hand to stop him. "This'll have to be custom."

"Well, sure. Can do that," he nodded. "You want a special kind of hide, is that it?"

"Actually," Zack said. "It's for this." He lifted Galatine into view.

The weaponsmith reared back. "Woah, Nellie! That's a big one. That's not gonna fit on the hip, is it."

"I'm looking for an open back harness?" Zack said. "With a magnetic pad so I can just…" He twirled Galatine a couple times before swinging it over his shoulder, the movement so ingrained that he nearly let go of the hilt out of habit.

"Oh yeah!" the guy nodded, back to stroking his chin. "I've made things like that afore. For a smaller blade though. Even have one in stock, if you want me to get it…"

"How much for new?" Cloud asked.

"Well, sure. What kind of hide do you want?" the guy responded. "I've got dual horn, of course, but I also got belzicue and humbaba, or death claw – that's a nice hide. I've even got some drake skin…"

Again, Zack looked at Cloud, but the guy just crossed his arms and left it up to him. Belzicue hide was too thin. The drake would be nice – durable as Bahamut's balls, but also nice to look at. It would also be as costly as Shiva's kiss.

"How much for drake hide?" Zack asked.

"Eight hundred gil. Can't say fairer than that."

Zack swallowed. He'd had some potions and things with him when he'd been attacked. He could sell those. If they were even still up there on the ridge. Surely Cloud would've told him if he'd found his bag….

He opened his mouth to as for the dual horn – cheapest leather in the world.

Cloud spoke first. "Three hundred. We provide the skin."

Zack kept his face pleasant, but he gave Cloud a knock with his elbow. Cloud stepped on his foot.

"Well, I'll have to take a look at it first. Can't guarantee its condition since it's not from my stock."

"It'll work. Three hundred, you keep the extra. If the workmanship is right."

Zack held up his hands. "Okay, woah. This is ridiculous. You can't just promise to get drake hide, and then use it for my harness. It's worth a lot more than that." Cloud shrugged. Zack put his hands on his hips. "Okay then, Mr Blasé, where the hells are you going to find one? It's not like they're popping out of the ground like boundfats.

The weaponsmith spoke up. "Well, you know, there's often Rusty drakes in the old scrapyard just outside of town."

Cloud smirked. "See. A sign."

Argh! Zack scrubbed his hair. Rusty drakes weren't bad. If you had a gun! He shook his head. "No." He shook his head. "It's real kind of you, but you'll get yourself killed!"

Cloud clapped him on the shoulder. "That's why you gonna help me."

He didn't wait for Zack to agree. He turned to the weaponsmith. "You have one for a smaller sword," he said. "You rent it?"

When they left the shop, Cloud was carrying Galatine – and rather easily, so he'd probably been more than "mildly exposed" to mako – while Zack unbuckled and twisted the leather straps until he was pretty sure he knew how to put on the rig.

"Sector 7 gets Cerulean drakes coming out of the train graveyard," Cloud said once they were clear. "Often a reward to clear them out – gil and potions, depending. Be easier with two."

"I knew it!" Zack grinned. "You do want to keep me around."

Zack finally pulled the rig on. Then it was buckle, tighten and bounce until it was sitting just right.

"Does this look funny over a T-shirt? Well, I mean… It looks a little obvious over this T-shirt, right?" Cloud hummed agreement and handed Zack his sword.

The harness was second or even more-hand, which meant the leather was softer and more pliable than if it had been new. It also meant that it was stretched in weird places. Zack mounted and removed the blade, making further adjustments as the movement revealed parts that were too loose or too tight. He did some squats, and some bends…

Cloud suddenly stepped into view. "Here. Slide this over the harness."

Zack did not jump, despite what the person beside him said.

His rescuer was holding a puke-green, short-sleeve, button-up shirt. "Seriously?" Zack asked.

"Matches the T-shirt."

When Zack slid it on, he had to admit that the colours did look kinda good together.

"Zack! Is that you?" It was a young voice calling.

Zack turned and saw a boy wearing a red scarf around his neck coming towards them. He had unremarkable brown hair, and brown eyes.

"It is you!" The cracking voice said the boy was just hitting puberty, so Zack tried to picture him as he would've been five years ago…

"It's me, Oates!"

Still nothing.

"Your wallet, remember? Your first date with Aerith?"

"Oh, yeah!" The day he'd met Aerith.

He'd fallen through the roof of the church and she'd been so pretty. And kind. He'd asked her for a date, never expecting she'd say yes. They'd walked, and talked, and she'd been teasing, but sweet. By the time they'd reached the market area in Sector 5 he'd been completely gone on her. He'd tried to impress her, but the first thing to happen was Oates stole his wallet, and Aerith laughed at him about it.

It had taken a while, but Zack had finally managed to catch the kid, only to learn Oates had stolen it because his mom was sick. Nothing else to do but to get Oates' own wallet back – covered in bug guts, but with all the gil still in it.

Aerith had looked so happy when he'd done that…

"I remember now. How's your mom?"

The excitement left the boy's face. "She died a couple years ago."

"Shit, I'm sorry!" Zack said. "But you look like you're doing okay – not thieving on the streets, anyway."

"I'm doing fine, honestly. Aerith got me a place at Leaf House. It's the orphanage here. They're all pretty nice." He was smiling when he said it, and his eyes were clear, so Zack smiled back.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Oh man! Wait 'til Aerith sees you!" the boy said, giving a little jump. "Everyone else thought you were dead, but not Aerith."

"She never gave up, huh. That's um…" Zack swallowed. "Do you know where she is? I need… I mean, I'd like to… talk to her."

"She should be coming back from the station," Oates answered. "She goes up most days, selling flowers."

Zack couldn't help his grin. "She does? That's… It's…." Wonderful. She was doing it! Going up to the plate, under the open sky – kinda open. Doing it all without him. Because he hadn't been there like he promised…

Oh fuck.

He hadn't kept any of his promises.

"Zack? Are you sick?"

"Kid, find Aerith. Let her know Zack's back, but quietly, yah?"

"Sure, mister."

All the voices were faint. He couldn't breathe. His chest… Fuck.

"Is he okay?"

Cloud steered him… someplace. Away from the crowds because suddenly it was quieter. Or maybe his heartbeat had just gotten louder.

Stupid fuck, Zack told himself. Don't fall apart now!

He forced himself to match his breathing to some tune that was playing. All the while, aware of Cloud standing beside him, keeping the curious at bay. Cloud was chatting with some white-haired kid with a monocle, of all things. Zack ignored them and breathed.

Once his breathing was under control, he didn't bother raising his head, just rested it on his hand. "Fuuuuck."

Cloud sat down beside him. "Headache?"

Zack thought about it. "A little. It'll pass." The pain always did. He leaned back, so he was looking at the roof of the… wherever they were sitting. Lights were coming on in the market, fighting the darkening sky. It was going to be full dark by the time Aerith made it home.

Of course, she wasn't 19 anymore, just as he wasn't 20.

Fuck. "I'm 26."

"Nobody here's gonna ask for ID if you wanna drink," Cloud replied. He held out the waterbag, so Zack took a swig.

"I was 21. And Aerith was 20 last time I saw her."

"Want me to check for grey hairs?"

Zack slammed the waterbag into Cloud's chest. "Asshole."

"Moron."

Zack tried to relax into the quieting evening, but he couldn't. "Let's go meet her." The relief he felt when Cloud just shrugged and stood up beside him was ridiculous. But he felt it just the same. "She wrote me letters while I was… Yeah."

"They let letters through?"

"Hells no," Zack snorted. "One got me while I was on the road. It mentioned that she'd been writing to me the whole time."

"One letter… While you were on the run." Cloud's voice was filled with disbelief.

"Special delivery." Zack's smile was sad, remembering the chimera with Angeal's image in its feathers. He'd have to tell Aerith that it had died.

"Where'd the other letters go?" Cloud asked. Zack didn't think Cloud cared – the guy was paying more attention to their surroundings than the conversation – but it was a decent question.

"She would've sent them to me care of SOLDIER," Zack had decided. "So Shinra has them. I wonder if they read them.

Cloud grunted in a way that indicated 'of course they have, dumb ass.'

"I mean, I guess, there's nothing wrong with them having read them…" This time Cloud looked at him, brows up, and Zack had to sigh. "Yeah, I'm not so fond of the idea either, but really, what would they have found out? That we liked each other?" He shrugged. "They already knew that."

"Gives 'em leverage."

Again, Zack sighed. There really wasn't anything he could do about that either. Shinra already had leverage. Zack knew the Turks watched Aerith, and the Turks knew that Zack knew, so if they ever wanted to bring Zack in line, all they had to do was threaten to take Aerith back to Hojo.

Of course, then Zack would be forced to kill them all, even though he'd probably end of dead before he managed it. But he'd do it to keep Aerith safe from that psychopath.

"I think I'd like to kill Hojo." It wasn't angry or bitter. Just a simple statement of fact.

Cloud accepted it with a nod. "I'll help."

It made Zack laugh. He grabbed Cloud in a headlock. "You and me, buddy! We're gonna be an awesome team!"

"Zack? It's really you?"

And just like that, Zack's calm disappeared. After all these years, Aerith was right in front of him. Would she be disappointed? Angry? There were so many ways this could go wrong.

He turned to face her.

She looked beautiful.

To Zack it seemed like she glowed, even in the dim light under the plate. She was wearing a short red jacket over a white dress. On one arm she carried a basket with only a couple wilting blossoms. Did that mean she'd had a successful day selling flowers?

She looked that same and yet totally different than his memories.

She couldn't be real.

"Zack? Hell-lloo."

Beside him Cloud snorted in amusement.

"Aerith," he finally managed. "Yeah. It's me." He swallowed. It had been a long time. Maybe too long. Probably too long. "Sorry I'm late."

"Oh Zack…"

And then she was right there, right here. Right next to him, with her arms around him, and she was soft, and strong, and warm and real.

He barely heard Cloud taking Oates back to Sector 5. There was Aerith's breath, and his heartbeat, and the restless quiet of the undercity at night.

Like he had before in her arms, Zack cried. He cried about dying on a cliff top, for Gongaga destroyed, and five years lost. He cried for Angeal taken from him once again. He cried for Aerith and for himself. He cried for all the dreams that had been taken from him.

He cried, and Aerith cried with him.

.o0|0o.

It took an embarrassingly long time for them to stop.

And then it took even longer for Zack to let her go – he just wanted to keep standing there, with her tucked up under his chin – but predators didn't care if you hadn't seen your girl for five years. He took her hand.

He still had gloves on, but he could feel her.

They walked back to the sector gate, their steps slow. He told her… He told her everything.

Aerith eyes stayed wide in horror. "The whole village? And they just… rebuilt it?" and "But you were SOLDIER. Why would they do that to you?" and finally, "They couldn't have known. I thought Tseng was your friend!"

Zack sighed. Aerith's relationship with the Turks was odd. She tried to dodge them as often as she could, but she also treated them almost like friends. Familiarity, Zack supposed. They'd been watching her since she was a kid.

"The Turks…." Where to fucking begin with the Turks? It wasn't like he'd ever thought hard about them back then. They were just there, following orders like he had. "This just an impression I got," he said slowly, trying to dig out the memory. "I think their first loyalty is to each other. Then to the company and after that is anybody else."

"So they didn't try to save you?" Her hand tightened around his. That odd friendship again.

He tried to soften the truth. "There wasn't much they could've done about it, not without joining me in my underground cell. Hojo's got too much power inside Shinra."

"It's just…" Aerith looked away. Her jaw was clenched.

Zack stopped until she looked at him. "What?"

"I gave Tseng your letters," she spat. "Or well, whichever Turk was watching me that day."

"Ah."

"They took them, said they'd deliver them, and it was all a big lie." Her grip was tight, her mouth was an angry line. "Rude brings me potted flowers for my garden sometimes. And Shotgun brought me a suncatcher from Mideel. But they knew. All this time, they knew you weren't dead, and they did nothing."

"Aerith…"

She shook her head and stomped up the road to her hometown.

Zack wanted to pull her close, soothe away her anger, but he let himself be pulled behind her. They were just through the gate when Aerith stopped abruptly. Zack nearly overbalanced trying not to crash into her.

"How much do you know about me, Zack?"

"Well," he said. "What you told me, of course."

"And?"

"Before I left on that mission, Tseng told me you were special, which, you know…." He lifted a shoulder. "You had Turks watching you."

"I never told you about my mother."

"Elmyra? Sure, you did."

"No, not Elmyra. My real mother, Ifalna." Aerith took a breath. "My mother was what you call an Ancient. The last full-blooded Ancient on the planet, and Shinra kept her prisoner – kept us. But she's the one they took out of our cell everyday. She's the one…."

This time, Zack did reel Aerith in and tuck her beneath his chin. He swallowed. "I'm listening."

"When I was seven, we escaped. It was so scary. I'd never been outside the labs. It was so big, and noisy. There were so many people, but Shinra security forces shot anyway. We made it to the station, but Mom…. She'd been hit." Zack could feel her tears soaking into his shirt.

Aerith grabbed another breath. "Elmyra was at the station, waiting for her husband to come home. Mom… Mom handed me to her and asked her to take care of me. Then she ran away so that Shinra would follow her. She died. I know she did."

"So you could live," Zack said.

Aerith growled. "They should've just left us alone! They had no right to, to… keep us prisoner!" She took several sharp breaths. "I forgot that's who they work for. I won't forget again." She stepped away. "Reno!" she shouted into the night. Birds flew off and at least one four-legged creature scampered further away from the road. "Reno! You come out here right now!"

From the shadows, emerged the lanky red-haired male.

"How do you always know? We're fucking good at this, yo. Yet you always know." His voice was solidly undercity, but everything else from the suit to the attitude screamed Turk.

Aerith turned to face him, body stiff with anger, hand tight around Zack's. She ignored Reno's question. "Tseng has the letters I sent to Zack. I want them back."

"Tseng doesn't take orders from us. You know that, right?"

She ignored that too. "There should be eighty-eight letters," she said. "I want them all, and if they've been opened…"

"Aerith…" the Turk pleaded.

"No. I am very angry right now. You all lied to me." Her voice cracked, but she took a quick breath and pulled her shoulders back. She was fierce and strong, and Zack couldn't take his eyes from her. "How could you?"

The guy, tough Turk or not, squirmed in embarrassed discomfort at her disappointment. "Aw, Aerith…"

She sniffed, turning away from him. "I'd like them by tomorrow. You can go now."

"You know I gotta see you to your door," the Turk said.

"I already have an escort, thank you," she said. "One I can trust completely." Aerith pulled Zack after her, and he followed happily. He was so fucking turned on by her, he could hardly breathe.

"Wait," the Turk said from behind them. "I recognize that sword."

"Why do you think I knew you were lying," Aerith shot back. Zack just grinned and gave the Turk a wave. So much for hiding under the plate.

Zack hopped a couple steps forward until he was level with his girl – his magnificent girl. "I got your final letter," he said.

"Of course you did," she growled. "It's the only one I didn't give to a Turk."

"Until I read it, I hadn't realized how long I'd been gone."

That got her to slow down. "You didn't see the news or read a newspaper?"

"Nope. On the run, remember?" He smiled as he said it.

She waved a hand at him. "Doesn't your… phone thingy have the date?" She still sounded angry.

"Nope," he repeated. "It was supposed to just relay orders and message within Shinra. Didn't need to know the date."

"Well, that's just stupid." She practically stomped her foot. It was cute, and it made Zack want…

"Can I kiss you?" he asked.

That stopped her rant. She looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth open.

"I'd really like to kiss you," he said. "But you don't have to–"

"Yes!" Aerith blinked. "That is, I, um… Yes. I'd like to be kissed. … Please."

Zack was smiling when he kissed her, and it was exactly like and yet more than he'd ever dreamed. She tasted like sunshine and flowers. The touch of her lips made his skin buzz and his mind spin, and they were just using lips. Well, he was using his teeth to nibble, just a little.

It helped that she responded. That she sighed a little, and squeaked a little, and clutched at his hands as they framed her face.

If he didn't stop, he wouldn't be able to walk.

He rested his forehead against hers. He could stop kissing her, but he couldn't stop touching her.

"You are magnificent," he whispered. "I think I'll adore you. Carry you around on a pedestal and kiss your feet.

She giggled. "I don't want to be on a pedestal, silly!"

"Okay, I'll carry your flowers instead. Just keep kissing me." He pressed his lips to her skin. "You make me feel real."

And she did. The journey was over. Even if he died tomorrow because a piece of the plate fell on his head, he'd still know that he'd made it out of there. It was real and true – he was home.

"You're safe now, Zack," she whispered to him as if knowing his thoughts. "You don't ever have to go back."

Well, maybe not. But he'd be sleeping with one eye open in case the Turks decided to visit unexpectedly.

.o0|0o.

Tseng was at his desk reading through Heidegger's demands: encourage or create an eco‑terrorist faction that Shinra could use as a scapegoat if future upgrades caused problems to the reactors.

But no upgrades or major repairs were scheduled for any of the reactors, not in Midgar, nor anywhere else on the planet.

That meant either Heidegger or the president – most likely the latter – were planning to cause those problems. That meant Tseng needed to figure out where his remaining Turks could push back and where they'd have to give. With all but a handful of Turks in hiding, the amount of room he had to work with was a lot smaller than it used to be.

His PHS rang. He marked his place on the page before answering. "Tseng."

"Yo, boss man. You'll never guess who I ran into tonight."

"I don't have time for–"

"That missing lab experiment we were hunting yesterday."

Tseng's eyes cut to the box sitting on the credenza. "Zack Fair?"

"He was with the Ancient."

That was… Well, 'surprising' wasn't quite right. "Did he look healthy?"

"Physically? Sure. But considering what he was wearing, I'd check for mental illness. The shirt, yo. Practically glowed in the dark."

Fair wasn't in uniform. What did it mean?

"Oh, and boss? Flower girl's pissed and demanding her letters back."

Tseng didn't look at the box again. His reflexes once again under his full control. "Understood."

He closed his PHS and stood up from his desk. Heidegger's orders could wait. He had a delivery to make.

AN: For whatever reason, I had Vera Lynn's version of "We'll Meet Again" running through my brain while I wrote this chapter and that made me think of my dad since was a fan of hers. He came back from war pretty messed up and nothing against my mom, but I don't think she was his Aerith.

Well, I'm not sure it's humanly possible to be somebody's Aerith, but we always try for the people we love. People can only fix themselves, and we can only help if they let us.

(Miss you, Dad)