A/N:

Not my sandbox, just my sand castle. I don't own anything from Final Fantasy VII. Additionally, no one has permission to bind and sell my works, fandom or otherwise. I can't believe in this day and age we have to go back to making this disclaimer. Shame on you for exploiting other people's works!

Additionally, no part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner for the purpose of training artificial intelligence technologies or systems. (Thanks Penguin Random House for the wording, and good on you for protecting intellectual properties!)

This is a gift fic for Norkix. He complained (see the prompt below) and my muse suddenly woke up from a 3 year coma. So….Enjoy, little brother! :)

No Beta. I decided to just write this and post. Enjoy all of the mistakes! :D

Word Count: 2518

Summary: Zack stumbles back home after being forced to deal with Angeal, and the first place he goes is the Sector 5 Church. Aerith helps him in the only way she knows how.

Disclaimers/Warnings: canon death, dealing with grief, hurt/comfort fic

Prompts:

(From Discord)

nkx—Today at 11:14 AM

I'm replaying Crisis Core and I need one, just one Zerith hurt/comfort fic after Zack kills Angeal but NOTHING EXISTS HOW DOES THIS NOT EXIST LMAO

Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Assignment 1 - Due 17th January

Dance with Professor Bex

Task 3: Write about someone getting in a physical fight.

"You're Worth More"

"It should have been me…I should have dealt with Genesis."

"Yeah. Then why'd you send me?" Zack stuffed his hands into his pockets, feeling somewhat petulant in front of his mentor. That last fight had been rough, and while he knew Genesis had gone a little crazy at the end there, he hadn't expected that much.

"To prepare you for your next fight," Angeal replied, his solitary white wing pulling in against his back as he tensed. His stance adjusted, and he pointed his blade, the Buster Sword – the one Angeal had once promised never to use in order to preserve his own father's memory…the one that, for so long, he always lectured about Use brings about wear, tear, and rust…and that's a real waste – directly at Zack's face. Zack's head snapped up to stare at his mentor intently, concern splashed across his features.

"Have you lost it?" Zack asked. Without a replying word, Angeal swung, forcing Zack to jump aside to avoid being cleaved in twain. "Stop it!"

"Someone's waiting for you, no?" Angeal asked, taking a moment to breathe. Zack gritted his teeth at how detached Angeal seemed to be. He began to circle his mentor, shaking his head as his hand drifted to his back to unsheathe his sword.

"Angeal…don't do this…"

With a grunt, Angeal brought the Buster Sword up and sliced downward. Zack brought his own sword up just in time to parry the attack, but the weight of the blade vibrated through his arms, almost staggering him.

Professor Hollander slinking into the room, praising Angeal for his actions, was enough to make them both pause. Zack shifted his anger to the scientist before him as he revealed everything. Had he been any other person, he could have taken care of the problem here and now. But Zack had bigger things to worry about. Angeal was determined to be Zack's next fight, no matter how much he didn't want to fight his mentor. But Angeal thought it was needed – that it was fitting – that Zack was the one to kill him. And now, as Angeal's transformation began, Zack knew he had to fight or die. Angeal wasn't going to be pulling any punches from here on out.

With the final slice of his blade, the leonine-like body that Angeal had transformed into shuddered before dropping to the ground. Before Zack's eyes, in the dilapidated room now filling up with the orange light of the sunset, Angeal's chimeric form melted away to reveal his human body. His hair was a little more grey, and his once pristine angel wing laid bent beneath him, white feathers strewn around him. Angeal took in shuddering breaths as Zack stood over him, his sword sheathed, grief filling his chest.

This…this all went against his code. It went against everything Zack stood for, everything he believed in.

"Zack, you have my thanks," Angeal said, turning his head to look at the distraught man. Zack knelt next to his mentor, his breathing quick. "Here," Angeal continued. "This…is for you." He lifted up the Buster Sword and offered its handle. Zack had to look away, trying in vain to suppress his sobs.

What do you say to your mentor that you fought with upon his orders? What do you say to the only man that believed in you, who believed in you so much to entrust his legacy to you? What do you say to the man you've doomed to death?

Steeling himself, Zack accepted the blade, ignoring the tight feeling in his chest.

"Zack, remember…you are most important…but just by a little." There was a little humor in Angeal's words as he echoed what he had told the younger man all those months ago back in Wutai. His words came out strangled, his breathing shallow. Zack had to lean forward to hear him better. "Protect your honor…always…" Angeal instructed. He let out a little grunt before his head fell backwards, his eyes slipping shut. With a gasp, Zack collapsed, sagging further into the ground, the Buster Sword clanging noisily from where it landed. His hands bit into Angeal's shirt as he blindly scrambled to grab onto his rapidly cooling body. Zack took a few moments. To cry, to grieve, he wasn't sure.

Zach blindly reached for the Buster Sword, lifting it and holding it before him like he'd seen Angeal do so many times before. The cold steel pressed against his forehead, his eyes slipping shut. It helped focus him. One part of his mission was done…but why did it feel like he had lost everything?

Embrace your dreams. Angeal's voice filled his head, memories of all that the older man had said and done for him. If you want to be a hero, you need to have dreams…and honor.

"What's so honorable about this?" His voice was nearly silent, his grief overwhelming and choking. It was at that moment that rain suddenly started falling. Unaware of the clouds that had been gathering, Zack lifted his face to the heavens, letting the cool rain wash over him. It was a little cliche, but he was thankful for the rain. Now he wasn't sure what was water and what was tears on his face.

Coming back to Midgar, it was like he was marching to his own funeral. The weight of what he'd done rested heavily on his shoulders. Despite knowing it was what Angeal had wanted – what he had orchestrated – hadn't made the burden any easier to bear. Back at Shinra HQ, Zack went through the motions, did his debrief, and then took the offer to be off-duty for the next three days.

They said he had earned it, for all of his service that he'd done for them.

Right. Three days off for months – years even – of his life in dedication to the Shinra Corporation.

Without getting out of uniform, Zack found himself at the Sector 5 Church. Aerith would be there. She always was. She seemed to expect his needs, the angel that she was. He needed peace, and Aerith was his.

He was so lucky he had fallen through the church's roof that day. He was so lucky to have met her.

Aerith hadn't been at the church when he arrived, so he sat down in the middle of the aisle, the Buster Sword laid next to him. Cross-legged, Zack just stared at the flowers, letting his vision swim in and out of focus, the colors of the flowers mixing together until all he saw was white. His breaths coming in short bursts, Zack couldn't help but curl up on himself, his back curving in a mockery of a bow as the numbness penetrated every pore of his being.

He wasn't exactly sure how long he sat there, hunched over. The lighting in the church had changed, from the darkness of the night to the early glow of the morning. Her soft footsteps first penetrated the fog, making him realize he had dozed a bit. It hadn't been a lot, but Zack suddenly realized how tired he was. He was tired of the war, tired of the fighting, tired of Shinra. What would his life have been had he stayed in Gongaga?

"Zack?" Aerith asked inquisitively, delight coloring her tone. "You're back!" Her footsteps quickened, but when he didn't turn around to face her, she faltered. "Zack? Is everything alright?"

Had he not come to Junon for training, had he not gone to Midgar once the Soldier program had moved there, would he have ever met his dearest friends now? Would he have met Kunsel, Cloud, Angeal? Would he have met Aerith? Would Angeal now be…

It was in that moment that he let out a heart-wrenching sob, the weight of his actions crushing his soul. He collapsed further in on himself, his face hidden in his hands.

"No one but me will mourn him…His mom…Angeal, he…" Between shuddering breaths, Zack tried to compose himself but it only seemed to make his sobbing worse.

"Hey, hey, breathe. Zack, I need you to breathe for me." Aerith dropped to her knees beside him and wrapped her arms around him. His own arms loped around her back and pulled her into his lap. Aerith squeaked, squirming a bit to get comfortable before settling, realizing he had buried his face into her neck and hair.

You're a little more important than my sword…but just a little.

"Zack, I need you to breathe with me. Nice and slow breathes. Zack?" Aerith said, pressing herself against his chest and breathing deeply to try to get him to mimic her. After a few tense moments, Zack seemed to relax minutely. His hold wasn't crushing her now, but almost cradling her in his arms. "I'm here for you, Zack. I'm here. Come back to me, Zack. Please?"

It took too long, but Aerith was able to coax him away from the flowers and onto one of the pews that weren't too rundown. His sobs had quieted, but he still hadn't talked to her. She had no clue what happened. All she could do was be there for him, hold him, and help him put the pieces back together when he came to himself.

The only times where she would leave his side was when she left for food. It was not anything too extravagant, just some crackers and water, but with how comatose Zack seemed to be, it would have to be enough. The dry crackers would prompt the need for water, and the continual drinking of water would hopefully prompt his hunger.

It was a trick Aerith had learned from her mother.

It was on the morning of the second day that Aerith could get the story from Zack. How Genesis had deserted Shinra, how Angel had seemed to follow but only to stop his former comrade, all of the secrets and revelations Zack had learned about the experiments surrounding the existence of Angeal and Genesis, everything.

Including Zack killing Angeal.

"He even told you that you were important to him. No one else could have done what he needed to be done," Aerith said while cuddling him. The Buster Sword never laid more than a few feet away from Zack, and whenever she coaxed him to another place in the church, he made sure to grab the sword to move it with them. He clung to it as much as he did to her, and there was a small string of annoyance that he couldn't give it up.

The annoyance washed away, however, when Zack explained his last interaction with Angeal, and what the sword meant to him.

"You know, I hear voices sometimes," Aerith admitted quietly after hours passed of them not talking. "It's mostly the Planet that I hear. The voices, they mingle together. But I think I hear him." Zack stilled in her arms, his breathing so faint as if he held his breath in order to hear her better. "He's happy. He's thankful that you were the one to save him–"

"Save him? I killed him!" Zack argued, his voice the loudest she's heard it in the past two days.

Aerith shook her head. "There was a fate worse than death waiting for him had he survived the encounter. You said yourself that Professor Hollander was trying to smooth talk him into leaving with him. You said Angeal had orchestrated the encounter with Genesis, had organized your confrontation with him, everything. You…" Aerith paused for a moment, tilting her head to the side as if listening to something. "You have to trust that he made his decisions soundly. He loves you, you know? You were important to him. Like an annoying little brother…or…" she paused again before chuckling for a moment. "Or like an over-excited puppy."

Zack couldn't help but laugh at that moment. That laugh turned into another sob, and he spiraled again. He let himself sink into his grief again, the what-ifs swirling in his mind, his guilt consuming him. Aerith just held him once more, trying to give him comfort. It was all she could do.

The third day saw Zack still hunched over in the aisle between the pews in the church, the Buster Sword laying before him like a shrine dedicated to Angeal. At least he had gotten some sleep last night. Her mother had insisted on coming to join them for dinner, and brought one of her casseroles. Zack ate a little, but the normalcy of the act of eating dinner together seemed to put a smidgeon of life back into him. He had slept fitfully in a bedroll next to the cot that Aerith's mom, Elmyra, had found for her in the back room. But he had slept.

It was a start.

"Hey Zack?" Aerith stood up from where she had crouched in the flowers, her gaze drawn to the hole in the ceiling where he had fallen, quite literally, into her lap all those months ago. "The sky is closer in the city above, right?" Silence greeted her, which was good. He was in a better mood today. The past few days had mostly been spent with him wallowing in his grief. She could get through to him sometimes, but…well…

"Kinda scary…but the flowers might like it…maybe." She trailed off as she swung her head around to look at Zack, his back to her. He didn't move, aside from his shoulders shaking as he suppressed his sobs. He was so quiet, she hadn't even heard him.

Aerith walked over to him, her steps nearly silent. She knelt behind him, her arms coming around his neck, her chest to his back and she just held him to her. His hands came up to grasp at her arms, his posture straightening a bit to lean into her as they rocked back and forth together.

"Thank you," he whispered to her some minutes later, after he regulated his emotions, forcing everything down. He had to swallow down so much…so much guilt, so much grief. It felt like he had a gaping hole in him, or like he was missing a limb. Could he have done something different? Could he have been better and saved Angeal? What kind of a hero was he, what kind of person, if he couldn't even save his friend?

"Always. You're important to me," Aerith replied softly. Zack squeezed a little tighter in appreciation before relaxing his hold, leaning more into her embrace.

"More important than your flowers?" he teased, a small smile on his face. One hand came up to scrub the tears away from his face, relishing the feeling of his cold hand against his hot face.

"More important than my flowers…but just a little," Aerith replied back, teasingly. Zack barked out a laugh that brought on a fresh bout of tears. But the expected pain in his chest when thinking about Angeal didn't come back. It hurt, but it was…lessened. Turning his head, he kissed Aerith's cheek in appreciation.

"But really, thank you," he said emotionally. It was Aerith's turn to squeeze him tighter.

"You're welcome."