Alarms flare in Zack's head on two parallel channels, like dual speakers on opposite sides of a theater. One is his. The other one isn't supposed to be there.

He rises, falls, and crawls. He's a fugitive, a kid covered in mud and blood hiding in the Wutai trench. He's seen dead bodies from this angle before—has wondered if he's about to become one—but he's never, ever seen a corpse blink.

That's what he sees in Cloud as he drags himself across the floor. A living body drained of life. Fear trickles down his back and it's not natural. It's a foreigner's tears dripping saltwater in his spring.

"Cloud—" He shakes the body. The presence inside him grows. "What is this? Wake up. Go back to—what did you do?"

I don't know. I heard you calling. I wanted to help.

"You did," Zack shudders. Now the emotions are his, seeping too fast to control. The cold on his wrists, the heat burning through his core, Hojo's nightmare smile."You helped, but look at you."

The mass in his head that is Cloud spreads out like a blanket. It's warm and radiant, yet utterly terrifying. He shakes Cloud harder.

It was my fault in the first place. I had to do something. I had to.

"Then undo it. You're freaking me out."

I… think I'm lost. You're everywhere. It's all white.

"Okay," Zack says, as much to himself as Cloud, "Okay, we can figure this out. Do you remember how you got there?"

There's a pause. It feels laborious. Cloud's presence turns wispy and cool.

"Woah, nevermind. Stay where you are. What about this, can you feel this?" He wraps Cloud's cold hand in a tight grip and shakes it.

Cloud's spirit draws closer. It's faint.

"Then I'll make it louder."

There's only one obvious way to do that, and Zack's never been one to overthink. He rolls onto his back and brings Cloud with him, hands fanned over his bandaged back.

It's an intimate embrace with both of their chests bare. He can feel Cloud's pulse thrumming under his fingertips and his chest moving with each breath. Their hearts are off-tempo, thudding back and forth like rowdy festival drums, two halves of a marching step.

Zack presses up a dimpled spine and rounded shoulders, up to his neck and the edges of his hair. The bubble of Cloud within him shifts. There's an airless intake of breath.

His body arches into the touch and lets out a misty, wilted gasp. It crosses some wires in Zack's head, pulling heat and pleasure he hadn't intended from his core.

"Za—" The pressure in his head lessens, and Cloud's body whines again.

It's so far.

"It's not. I've got you right here. Just try."

The layer of Cloud draped over his consciousness fades, and the light of intelligence comes back to his eyes.

He talks. Cloud doesn't answer. He makes weak jokes and not one muscle moves. Relief still pools in Zack because there's at least a spark of humanity there. He'll get better with rest, he has to.

Too exhausted to sit on his own, Zack braces his back against a ruined cabinet and puts Cloud's head in his lap. He pets his hair and talks until he's hoarse. Dinner trays slide through a slot in the door after a time.

"Excited to eat more tasteless slop?" he asks, as if peppering him with dumb questions might eventually annoy him into answering. There's no response, but Cloud swallows when he tips the bowl against his lips.

"That's it, eat up." He's not even embarrassed by how his voice cracks. The thrill of Cloud reacting overrides everything.

Eventually the lights dim into night mode and the exhaustion catches up with him. He kicks the empty trays away and lays Cloud on his back. His eyes are slung low, but they widen when he pulls his hands away. Zack stretches out beside him, the way they slept before.

It feels much further in the past than just a day. Cloud had been hurt, but he was still himself. He'd been a ball of stubbornness and fury the whole way through the escape.

Mindful of the cameras and the people behind them, he puts his mouth to Cloud's ear and speaks softly into it.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but I have to tell you. What you said earlier—it wasn't your fault. We don't deserve this. Nobody deserves this.

I came back because I didn't want to leave without you. That was my choice. I made it knowing it might bite me, and that's not your fault either. You saved me twice, I saved you once. That means I still owe you."

Zack looks at Cloud's sharp jaw and spiky hair, at the smooth skin cast blue by mako eyes.

"So listen up and listen good," he says, every bit as passionate as Cloud had been about their ill-fated planning. "On my honor as a SOLDIER, I'm going to get you out. You're gonna touch dirt again. You're gonna see the stars again. You're gonna eat good food and live like a normal person. I promise."

Cloud's brows pinch and his eyes crinkle. Wetness gathers at the corners. Zack's heart clenches with a tight, deep feeling he hasn't had since he left Aerith in the slums, and he wipes them away with his thumb.

"So stop beating yourself up and focus on getting better. That's an order, SOLDIER."

A strained whimper eeks out of Cloud's lips. He curls his fingers until they barely touch Zack's back. He shuts his eyes, and hopes things are better in the morning.

"Hands on the wall! I told you not to move," the elite officer yells. "He can't do it on his own," Zack pleads. "I won't try anything, just let me help him."

"That's what he told Roche, sir," one of the guards mutters. A few others laugh darkly, like he and Cloud's tussle with the SOLDIER has become the height of comedy among the troops.

Cloud's naked form slides further down the tile wall and Zack throws caution to the wind. He slides under Cloud's arm and shoulders his weight up, heedless of his own nakedness or the armory of guns pointed at them. The laughter stops.

"Subject Z, release the specimen. Put your hands where I can see them."

"I just need a minute," Zack snaps.

Cloud trembles against his side, and he lowers his voice back to the soft murmur that Cloud responds best to. He leans forward so he can find blue eyes under Cloud's overgrown hair.

"Shh, it's just water. It won't hurt. Can you stand up for me? We just gotta stand here a minute and it'll be over."

"Subject Z—"

Zack grits his teeth and leans Cloud against the wall.

It's amazing how much he'll put up with for Cloud's sake. The last time he was here, Zack took out half a battalion before they got his clothes off. Today he just wants to shield the other man from as much stress as possible. He had gotten both of their pants off before the officer finished giving the order.

Gripping his friend's wrists, he puts his hands on the wall and covers them briefly with his own. Cloud's head hangs forward, but his legs hold. Zack regretfully retreats back to his spot and only shuts his eyes when the water pounds over his face.

The guards stay for the sterilizing mist this time, fingers poised on triggers. Cloud grunts and shakes, but he stays upright.

The moment the guard throws clothes at them, he slots right back where he was, lowering Cloud to the floor. There's a new set of navy scrubs in Zack's size, but the other bundle is a hospital smock.

Worry roils his stomach. Are they planning to operate on him? He slips Cloud's arms through the sleeves, and pulls him into his chest to tie the back.

One of the guards snickers at the sight. "Say, why do all fruits end up in SOLDIER? Ain't they supposed to be our biggest and toughest?"

"Cause Heideggar likes 'em pretty, that's why." More laughter, louder this time so it echoes and multiplies into the jeering of twenty or thirty instead of ten.

Zack jerks his new pants and shirt on and whispers for Cloud to stand up. The other man gives no sign of comprehension. He repeats it, but the officer loses patience.

"Carry him. Doc's waiting."

Bennet is indeed hanging in the open door to the Cradle, her foot tapping on a wood scaffolding that's been erected over the broken catwalk. She purses her lip at the sight of them, her eyes darting to Cloud's lolling head and the arms that sway limply on either side of Zack.

She's as opaque as usual, but there's something hasty in the way she turns. Guards work below to clear the wreckage. Despite the absence of corpses, the stink of mako and death lingers. Cloud buries his face in Zack's neck.

"We're okay," he says reflexively. It's become his mantra in the two days since their punishment. Any time Cloud stirs, any time he makes a noise, Zack finds himself saying it on a loop. He can't explain it, he just has a sense that Cloud can't afford any stress right now, and that makes it his job to stabilize him. "Look, the monsters are gone. We're just passing through. Everything's fine."

It really isn't, but Cloud doesn't need to know. There's more security on the cave floor than he's ever seen in the lab before, and they're all armed to the teeth.

Bennet's taking them back to the cell, but also towards the operating rooms. Zack's hands get clammy where they're bunched in Cloud's hospital gown.

"We are going back to the cell, right doc?"

Bennet clears her throat and tugs at her shirtsleeves. "Yes. No experiments today."

"See, Cloud? Running water and a bed. We're moving up in the… world." His voice trails off as Bennet changes course and stops beside an operating table. She takes a stethoscope from a drawer and sterilizes the ends.

"Just a quick welfare check. Policies have changed after your escape. Exams will now take place out here with a full guard." She doesn't look happy about it either, which on her usually stoic face looks almost mutinous. "On the table."

She puts the stethoscope in her ears, and there's no real argument to be made. He lays Cloud out, taking care to straighten his gown and smooth out the wrinkles.

Bennet checks his heart and blood pressure, and then starts prodding him all over the place to gauge his reflexes. After several minutes and a dozen more tests, she sighs and repeats the process on Zack.

Her demeanor is strange. Frosty, but without the usual bite. She doesn't look him in the eye, not even when she's shining a penlight into them and telling him to follow her finger.

"You speak to him a lot. Do you believe he understands?"

Zack frowns, tracking her manicured finger from one side to the other. "How should I know?"

"Then why do it?"

"Maybe I'm just talkative," he deadpans.

Her lip quirks. It's maybe the first actual expression he's seen her make, and he doesn't like how it humanizes her. It's easier to view Bennet as some kind of alien or automaton than a person with the same basic parts as him.

She trades her penlight for a flanged tool and leans in to check his ear.

"Hojo's been called back to Headquarters to answer for Teagan's death."

"Huh—"

"The Turk," she clarifies. "Their department head is insisting on a full tribunal, to be held in Midgar next week. Your experiment will be put on hold while Hojo attends."

Zack's fingers still from where they've been tapping at his sides. "For how long?"

Bennet switches to his other ear, holding his head still with a light touch to his crown.

"There is a significant chance he won't come back at all. We were only meant to inspect the specimen pods to ensure they weren't damaged in the fire. But then Heideggar proposed a trade and Hojo became impatient to begin his experiment. The entire affair was rushed and improvised. Given the inconclusive results, it would be sensible to discontinue it."

"Heideggar?" Zack blinks slowly. "Trade?"

"You really are dense," Bennet clicks her tongue. "Hojo could never take possession of a SOLDIER 1st Class without Heideggar's clearance. It was a fix. You knew too much, and he knew he needed to get rid of you somehow. Hojo wanted a specimen as close to Sephiroth's biology as possible. Your death solved both problems."

"And now he's… what, done with us? He seemed pretty damn interested two days ago."

The doctor points him toward a stool and crosses her arms. A lock of hair falls from her bun and she doesn't bat it away, nor does she push up the glasses sliding down her nose. He's never seen her look anything less than perfect.

"It isn't up to him. That terrorist group, Avalanche—they've become a bigger threat. The President isn't willing to indulge Hojo's whims while the group stands. He'll be expected to bend the knee and aid the Board in defeating the terrorists."

"And that means we—"

"Are at risk of being terminated," Bennet nods. "Thanks to your efforts, the rest of the facility has already been liquidated. It's a lot of overhead just to house two inconclusive experiments, and transferring you to Midgar is out of the question with your history of escape attempts."

When it was about scientific curiosity, Zack hadn't been overly concerned. Now that it's about payroll and overhead, it's hard to argue with her logic.

Bennet notes her readings on Zack's chart, and slides her pen into her coat pocket. "So if C does hear you when you speak, then I suggest you tell him to snap out of it and give Hojo a reason to go to bat for you against the President. And the Accounting Department."

A 'reason.' It sounds so innocuous, like she wants Cloud to give an impassioned speech, but they're talking about Sephiroth. She wants Cloud to manifest Sephiroth in some meaningful, perceivable way that will renew Hojo's hope in the project.

Shivers run up his spine, and Zack grips his knees. "So now that your research is at risk you care what happens to us?"

"I strongly opposed torture," Bennet snaps.

"You poisoned Cloud and let a behemoth eat me, but you think torture's too far? That's a weird hill to die on."

She wrinkles her nose and throws her clipboard loudly into the metal rack on the end of the table.

"To the cell," she calls to the guards.

Zack hurries to gather up Cloud before someone else tries to. The little guy's cold from the water, his whole body shivering. Zack holds him close and doesn't fight the guards as they corral him into the cell.

It's exactly as they left it, torn sheet and all. The smears of blood he couldn't quite clean from the floor are dry and black now. He steps over them to lay Cloud on the bed.

"Home, sweet, home."

Two days on the floor, and now simply having somewhere decent to put Cloud makes his chest twinge in that good but painful way. He distracts himself by drying the other man with a linen scrap and rubbing warmth back into his hands.

During his stay in this hellhole, he's learned not to take Bennet at her word. She issues warnings or extends bargains all the time, if she thinks it will benefit the experiment. Today's news could be that. In fact, he should assume she's playing another mind game because that's always been the case in the past.

And yet, her aura was undeniably off. And she didn't normally try to disguise her communications like she'd done during the exam. But again, that could have been a trick to throw him off-balance…

Groaning, he throws the damp cloth aside and sits next to Cloud.

It's not like she's asking him to do something awful. Zack wants him to wake up—has wanted it every second of the last two days—it's just that something in Cloud's aura feels fractured, and he's terrified that any extra pressure might cause cracked glass to shatter.

His leg taps on the floor, and he forces his breathing to match Cloud's slow and steady rhythm. He hopes he's doing the right thing.

"Hey, Cloud," he murmurs, rubbing a small circle over his chest. "Can you hear me, buddy?"

He sees no sign of recognition, not one twitch or groan. He squeezes his hand, pinches his arm, drags nails over his skin, and nothing works but it doesn't seem to hurt him either.

Remembering what had worked before, he weaves his fingers into tangled, wet hair. Cloud's mouth hinges open and his voice cracks. Zack's heart skips a beat.

"Oh thank fuck," he slumps in relief, and smacks an impulsive kiss to Cloud's temple. "Don't strain yourself. Just… uh, blink twice if you understand me."

Cloud blinks twice. Zack wants to hug him, but he settles for plastering himself against his chest.

"I didn't want to push, but—nevermind. It's not important. I have so much to tell you."

He gives what must be the most disorganized and rambling explanation in human history. He can't help it, not with his breath coming up short and his brain floating in dopamine soup.

The conversation loops like a skipping gramophone until Cloud's fingers wrap around Zack's wrist. Words die quick deaths on his tongue.

"...you?" Blue eyes rove over him, so sharp compared to the dim saucers they'd been.

He doesn't understand, until he does. His lips twitch into a watery grin. "Better by the minute."

A dusky flush colors Cloud's cheeks and he looks away. Zack chooses to ignore how that makes his stomach do flips, and sits up to give the other man some space.

"We can't give them what they want, but we have to give them something," he says, returning to the problem at hand. "I think Bennet feels guilty."

Cloud swallows, and coughs. He hasn't had anything to drink in a while, so Zack cups his hands and carries water from the sink. They make a mess of it, water dribbling down his chin and dripping through Zack's fingers, but he sucks down what he can and hums gratefully.

"What—"

"I dunno, but we're not getting out on our own again. Security is insane. It'll have to be an inside job, and Bennet has the keys to everything."

Cloud's eyes slide shut, but his brows crease in thought. "...Roche."

"Him too," Zack concedes, "but I think he lost some credibility from our little turnabout. Grunts were jokin' about him in the shower."

The other man hums, but he looks sapped. Zack throws the sheet over him and pulls until his feet are sticking out.

"Get some rest, I'll be right here thinking up our next brilliant plan."

Cloud pouts, and his grip tightens on Zack's wrist. What if I don't wake up?

If he hadn't been looking right at him, he'd have thought the words came from Cloud's mouth. They sound close, real, but they aren't. They're from that second speaker nestled in the back of his head.

Zack swallows, and grabs Cloud's clammy hand in both of his. "Then I'll pull you back again. Trust me."

The phantom voice withers and rumbles, like the volume's being turned down. The grip on his wrist loosens as Cloud slides into sleep.

I'll try.