𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕒𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕖

“you will be. my living legacy. my honor, my dreams. they’re yours now.”

…

The promise he made to Tifa and meeting Zack seem to be the clearer ones. He remembers the crunching of the snow beneath heavy boots and Zack's voice yelling back to those lagging behind, the nervousness of talking to a SOLDIER to then the joy of having made a friend. The cold air would take him back to the well in Nibelheim, waiting for Tifa to show. It was a tug of war with his dreams, trying to focus on one thing at a time.

As Zack pulls Cloud into his chest, the familiarity seeps it's way into the blond's dreams. The warmth and subtle heartbeat would take him into the easier, calmer memories and kept his sleep peaceful. He'd usually murmur in his sleep but tonight he was silent.

Come morning, Cloud opens his eyes to see a lot more details in his surroundings. There's a fan on the ceiling and light shining though the curtains. He yawns, a bit more of his voice coming out as he does. There was an urge to move around, he wanted to get up but just couldn't... though he did have a bit more range of movement this time, lifting his hand up before his face and flexing his hand, reminding himself that he can still do it. It was hard to recognise it as his own hand in this state but he could feel the muscles tense as he clenches his fist and the relief when he opens it.

Grand movements didn't happen. Not in the year since they'd been free of Hojo's lab of horrors. Must be someone coming in to check on them, but he'd locked the door so-

Zack jolts awake and makes for the sword propped against the wall beside him. Easy enough to reach and-

A bleary eyed scan of the room tells him no one's here. Not a doctor, not a hotel maid. Then wha-

Tired blue eyes drift to the prone form in bed, finding the hand raise of its own accord, his boots wiggling as if antsy to get up and on his feet. He's stunned into silence, frozen in a moment of time where if his brain hadn't shut down at the sight he might have collapsed in joy.

Out in the desert he could have chalked it up to a mirage, desert madness or dehydration or whatever Angeal was always going on about. Here, they were fed, hydrated, even got in more sleep than a weeks worth out on the road. This wasn't a cruel illusion.

"Cloud?!" It stutters out before he can catch it, roll it up, swallow it. He doesn't want to interrupt that concentration. Too afraid it'll send him hurtling back into the numbness of the void he's been floating in. He takes it slow, sitting on the bed beside the blonde to watch in fascination as those fingers flex.

But Aerith said his memories were mixed up, that he needed time. And Kunsel trusted her without hesitation. But non of that mattered now. "Hey, I promised you I'd look out for her, didn't I? Well you're here now, so I'm off the hook huh?"

A weak attempt at humour as he set to work with what little supplies he had in his stash. Typing out a quick message to some contacts across the slums to keep an eye out. Props to Zack, he stayed conscious as long as he could, biting down and trying not to cry out. The slums were always noisy, and it was something he was grateful for then as bullet after bullet was pulled red and mangled, and Zack finally let the pain win and blacked out. Marle arrived a while later with more potions and phenix downs, always quick to answer his requests. And she didn't ask any questions when he met her at the door, hands covered in blood and not letting her see into the tiny apartment.

What the fuck? How could this be happening? He had scrutinised the mission notes after Nibelheim, poured over every piece of intel he could clap eyes on; company-issued and more he found through other means. But there had been no sign of Zack. No rumours on the wind, no whispers of sightings; nothing.

Sitting on the floor of his secreted bedroom hours later, head-in-hands as he thought through it all for the thousandth time, Kunsel sat bolt upright when he heard Zack stir on the bed. He was waking; that was a good sign at least. Truth be told, he was frightened to go asleep himself in case this was all just a dream.

If only his body didn't scream in protest if he so much as breathed.

Groaning through it, he manages to sit upright at least, swing his legs awkwardly over the edge of the bed but that's as far as he's getting for now. He stares into the void of space just so happens to be occupied by a stained carpet. He's quiet for a long and agonizing minute before he exhales.

"I went...to help Cloud. Find answers...a cure...anything. Made it to the lobby but- security's tight now-a-days, y'know? Whole place was on Defcon 1 lockdown. Saw me comin' a hundred miles out." Leaning forward's a mistake and a boon, his lungs feel on the verge of collapse and stretching them out's the only way he's getting air in the way he needs.

"Made it out but barely. Took a whole highway chase to lose 'em but they gave me a shortcut to the slums for my effort. They're insane...droppin' a whole Scorpion unit on a god damn bridge, Kunsel. For little ol' me." It's funny now that he thinks about it. Is. And isn't. They'd rather drag back a corpse than take him alive.

"I'm nothin' but parts to them...company property. Doesn't matter if I'm breathin'... Well...their good luck I'm hardly doin' that." Kunsel does good work with so little supplies and SOLDIER healing will have him back up and at it in a few days he's sure.

The world has been a blur to him since their travels began, hard to tell the landscapes apart aside from the brightness and colour. Now there's finally some structure to the world he's in, still blurred but he can make out some details like the door, the drawn curtains and the bed he's in.

Zack was usually the closest to him so he was a lot more in focus than most things, he was picking up more minute details like the scar on his cheek, the earring in his left ear and his blue eyes. He watches as his friend works the muscles in his hand, the sensation causing the muscles to tingle slightly as his brain remembers how to feel. It wasn't that he was numb but he'd forgotten what it meant to feel until he was injured a couple days ago.

He puts the food away first in the tiny little fridge cleverly disguised as mundane decoration and searches the drawers for another dusty outfit to wear. Nothing. He's quiet when he opens the door to steal downstairs and ask for something that fits.

It takes them a while to find something relatively his size and while he waits he does his best to ignore the lull in the conversation that had been humming in the lobby, the raise eyebrows and blatant stares. Some were polite, averted their eyes and cast furtive glances his way.

He was done apologizing for existing. For the tiniest inconveniences. Harder than he means to, his hand slaps the counter and the room goes dead quiet but the onlookers return to their drinks or lock eyes with each other.

Good. Let them get the message. He's not to be fucked with. Not tonight.

"S-Sorry sir, this was all we had..." He doesn't bother checking the size, he thanks them and takes the stairs two at a time until he can finally shut the door behind him and latch it. No more interruptions.

His uniform is scrubbed clean first, the singed fibers and bullet holes can be repaired some other day. Right now...he really wants a shower.

And he takes a long one. Scrubs and cleans until the water isn't red, pink. It runs clear and what few bullets are still lodged in him plink into the wastebasket unceremoniously. A little toilet paper stuffed in the gaping holes to hold him over for the night and he's sliding on the almost too-tight pajama bottoms, ready to drop into bed next to Cloud like the corpse he feels.

Well...he's gentle about it. Crawling under the covers and freezing, breath held, to listen to the gentle sound of the blonde's chest rising and falling. It's their nightly routine.

Though he feels as though he could sleep for an eternity, Zack lay there awake an hour longer, staring at his sluggish companion in the amber glow of muted lamplight. His stomach flips in joy, remembering the first twitch of those fingers against his leg, the subsequent attempts to pull himself back into the suit of his body.

"What's it like in there?" He whispers, curious and not. Terrified to know the answer. His finger drifts to the soft skin of the man's cheek, grazing lightly. He's still so warm. Alive. And now thriving. They didn't have much left to take from the manor back in Nibelheim but here, it was paradise. Everything they needed right at their fingertips and no one powerful enough to stop them.

That's a dangerous slope...but one he would happily skid down if it meant keeping his best friend safe until he came back to himself.

Exhaling softly, he nuzzles into the soft warmth of a pillow. Not a cold hard rock. A pillow, Cloud. Can you believe it? Its coming up on the seven month anniversary of their escape and despite being in the comfort of an inn where the walls around them block the chill of the desert night, he finds himself reaching for the lithe body lying next to him. Drawing him in to shield the limp form against his chest.

Aerith doesn't want to cry, but she's fighting the tears because she hates to see Zack like this. She's used to see him laughing and smiling, and it makes her so sad to see him blame himself this much. She wants to comfort him, to show him she's at his side and won't leave him.

"You're here...that's all that matters." A shuddering breath leaves him at a stumble. The unseen barrier he's kept since the madness began breaks like window panes in a pre-destined pattern and a flood of calm seeps in to his bones. An unnerving calm that draws his gaze to her pained viridian eyes and the tremble of her lips.

"You're here....right? I'm not...dreaming?" He's had minute moments like this, to wake and find Angeal's still gone. Vivid dreams he can't remember the memory that triggered them. Scenes he's sure he's never experienced.

Walking in a field of flowers, staring up at the bright blue sky.

"Right...food. I'll-" A knock at the door cuts him off and he grinds his teeth. Shinra? Could be. Turns out it's just the desk clerk bringing them a buffet but her curiosity's getting the better of her. She can't help leaning in to get a look at the sick guy carried in like an invalid. It strikes something primal in him.

He grabs the doorframe her eye-level, blocking her sight line to Cloud and leans in.

"Thanks! Put it on our tab would'ja? I'll pay you guys back in full when we're ready to move on." She rushes out a confirmation and some small part of him feels for the girl just trying to do her job. Small town, gossip spreads though. Can't have too many eyes on them too long.

He brings the food to Cloud's bedside and cuts it into the tiniest pieces he can, offering a small forkful at first to gauge his motor skills.

It seemed the smell of food had awoken Cloud's stomach as a low grumble could be heard, when was the last time they ate anything? What did he last eat? What did food even taste like anymore? It was lost but the body knew what it wanted. As a forkful of food was offered, it took the blond a few moments to catch onto what was going on and slowly opened their mouth to accept it.

Chewing wasn't really chewing, more mashing it against the roof of his mouth until he could swallow. A bit messy as well but he could eat. For some of the buffet, it seemed that the chef purposely chose soft, light foods that were easy on the stomach and wouldn't cause one to choke; things like mashed potatoes, eggs, boiled vegetables, fish and chicken. Even liquid options like a smoothie or soup.

"We're gonna stay a while here, get our strength up. That sound good?" Sure does to him. He'll find a way to pay the town back. His wallet might be empty, but surely they've got a few things need doing around here that he could help with. Fiends, bandits, unruly children that need a talking to. Whatever it is. They're gonna be mercs, right? No job too small.

As soon as Cloud's feeding is done, he settles the man back against the pillows, propped up for proper digestion, and finishes off what he can quick, setting aside the rest for later. Paranoia sets in and he locks the door before climbing into the single bed for what feels like the first real rest they've had in decades.

Yet he can't sleep. Not laying here, next to Cloud, in a town they don't know full of nosey little villagers whose lives have gotten exponentially more exciting since their arrival, not now that he knows there's still hope for the blonde yet. He takes a hand in his and works the muscles one finger at a time.

"Gonna make sure you don't atrophy too. We'll take a walk around town tomorrow maybe. Early mornin' or dusk would be better. See where we are." Get a layout, defensible positions, routes of escape. Get the heading on Midgar from here. Cloud doesn't need to know the logistics, he just needs some good old fashioned R&R, and that should be his only concern.

Moving to catch Zack before he fell forward, Kunsel's brain was racing to find some kind of traction on this situation.

Let me help you if you're in a jam. Talk to me. I'll be waiting. He had sent that mail a few years ago and meant those words. He still meant them. Closing the door behind them, he gave a glance at the blood on the floor and looked his returned-friend up and down, thoughts running on overdrive. Would there be followers? Who had done this? What had happened?

"Don't apologise," if anything, he should eb the one saying sorry. Sorry he hadn't been posted to Nibelheim for the reactor mission, sorry he hadn't kept a closer eye on what was happening inside the company. Just sorry. All the regrets and questions could wait for later; field-mode was kicking in and the need for triage and damage-control.

Moving through the small apartment, he sat Zack down on the threadbare couch and looked him over before getting the hidden away supplies kept in the false back of a cupboard.

"Think some bullets are still in me." Tweezers, pliers, whatever'll get in there and get 'em out. Sutures next, maybe not so fancy. Needle and thread? Standard repair kit stuff, he's used to making due with whatever by now. Can't rely on Shinra goodies anymore.

"No one's...comin'...promise." He grinds it out between grit teeth, not really confident it's a valid promise, peeling back the shredded fabric around the worst of the entries to get a better look. Shouldn't have...his face goes pale and he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. This is gonna hurt like hell but on the off-chance he doesn't survive...

If he doesn't survive...oh god mom, dad...sorry he never made it back home. At least someone'll know to get word back what happened.

His murmuring settles as though a bath helped improve his mood after their long trek in the desert. His throat was soothed after a drink and his skin, while sun-kissed, was feeling better – no longer dry, dirty and irritating.

When the doctor and apprentice loom over Cloud to check him over, the murmurs come back. He didn't seem very happy with being poked and prodded. The worst was having his blood pressure taken, a subtle scrunch of his nose and a furrowed brow as a cuff tightens round his arm; the look he's giving is like he's swearing with his eyes. Cloud huffs in frustration after the cuff is removed, that's better but still not pleased.

It seemed the apprentice was honing their bedside manner; telling Cloud that he's doing a good job, that they understand it doesn't feel nice and so on. Cloud didn't really respond, not recognising the voice nor the face it was coming from; it wasn't Zack, so his eyes didn't actively look up at them.

"Right...food. I'll-" A knock at the door cuts him off and he grinds his teeth. Shinra? Could be. Turns out it's just the desk clerk bringing them a buffet but her curiosity's getting the better of her. She can't help leaning in to get a look at the sick guy carried in like an invalid. It strikes something primal in him.

He grabs the doorframe her eye-level, blocking her sight line to Cloud and leans in.

"Thanks! Put it on our tab would'ja? I'll pay you guys back in full when we're ready to move on." She rushes out a confirmation and some small part of him feels for the girl just trying to do her job. Small town, gossip spreads though. Can't have too many eyes on them too long.

He brings the food to Cloud's bedside and cuts it into the tiniest pieces he can, offering a small forkful at first to gauge his motor skills.

His hand twitching and flexing as a sign of the blond's remaining clarity. He's no longer so far away.

Soon enough, the heat melts away the chatter as Zack's focus is put more on walking. Cloud would dryly mumble and groan, as though trying to fill the silence but unable to speak coherently. By the time Zack finds the village, Cloud had long since drifted off in an uncomfortable slumber as a means to escape the heat. Blue eyes blearily open when a voice directs them up the stairs, letting out a confused groan as this was vastly different than the previous landscape.

The confusion is soon replaced with relief upon being laid down on an actual bed, from the plush fabric of the quilt to the cool temperature.

"......ade .....Cloud...we made it."

Zack's voice breaks through the fog, they made it. Before Cloud can focus on his friend's face he's already darted off looking for something. Another dry mumble as he's lifted into a sitting position, a cup is brought to his lips...

Water!

They said they'd call the doctor...not sure how effective country medicine is these days but it's better than leaving it to chance. What are the odds they get a Shinra plant? Ex-Shinra, like them? Someone sympathetic to their plight? Staring his dirty mug down in the mirror isn't going to help but man he gets all the staring now. They're a wreck. Blood caked and battered, bruises under his eyes, Cloud a limp unresponsive body... Nearly unresponsive he reminds himself.

He leans back to get a good look at the man through the doorway, frown etched into his face feels an uptick of a smile and his stomach churns, giddy.

"I'll start a bath, wash our clothes too. See if they got anything in your size." Sitting on the edge of the tub, fingers testing the outpour of water for the right temperature, thoughts travel back to the interim. Between waking up- getting saved by...

Angeal...

Sephiroth...

Cloud...

That's all he needs to focus on. Getting Cloud somewhere safe. Finding...some place to lay low where the Turks won't think to look. They could book it into the mountains, get supplies enough to last them a while. Backwater experts, right? He'd spent his whole childhood in the forests of Gongaga, pampered by the hospitable environment he could've lasted weeks out there on foraging alone. Maybe... too risky. Too close to home. And his parents?

Oh god...

What....no. He didn't want to think about it.

"Water's ready. You first." As if the blonde could do anything more than twitch a finger. There's a mirthless chuckle lodged thick in the back of his throat that expresses itself as an exhausted huff as he rises to fetch the man from his bed.

"Gonna give you as much dignity as I can pal, but it ain't gonna be much. Sorry." The place isn't exactly high luxury hotel quality, no fancy bubbles to obscure the view, but he manages to get the cadet clean enough to be presentable and in a set of spare pajamas with a few moth eaten holes in them just in time for the doctor to make his entrance, apprentice in tow.

They muscle him out of the way, murmuring to themselves about how similar he is to the 'other men' passing by. They don't know he can hear every damn word as he takes up occupancy in the far corner, arms crossed and bright blue eyes trained on each set of hands that reach for his friend.

Reflex testing, pupil dilation, heart rate monitoring, the works; reminds him of his earlier days in Shinra. Before the Injection. He shudders out a sigh and meets the doctor's eye, a head tilt in the direction of the door and he gets the message. Meet me outside.

Zack sits on the bedside beside his recovering friend and takes his hand in his, squeezes gently and reaches to brush a soaking wet strand of hair from his eyes, hooking a finger beneath his chin to meet those sky blues head on.

Feeling himself being lifted into a half-stand and hoisted onto Zack's back did coax a mumble from Cloud, unintelligible and hardly a reply but it was some form of reaction. He feels the air rush past his face as his feet leave the ground, the warmth of Zack's back and the strong grip around his legs. The weight of the buster sword, heavy but manageable, on his back. Providing a strong shield as they walk.

Not only is it familiar, it is also safe.

Cloud's arms hang over Zack's shoulders, lightly bouncing as he walks. As Zack chatters about where they're going next, what they're to do and how far away Midgar is, Cloud is repetitively opening and closing his hand; flexing his digits in a slow but deliberate tempo. Not only to prove to himself that he can now move but to show Zack that he's here. He's awake and he's listening. While a lot of the words are lost, the vibrations of Zack's voice can be felt.

It takes them days to reach the next little settlement and it comes as a near life saving reprieve. Illuminated in the oncoming dusk, the small town's lights on the horizon are a beacon for tired eyes. They're ragged, dirty, and starving by the time they arrive at the gates.

They're ushered into the town in hushed tones, windows darkened in every little home they pass but the inn is bright and cheery and the sounds of life hum within. The sounds of which fade into concerned curiosity the moment they enter.

Zack glances between each face turned to stare at them, tilting Cloud's to the other side to avoid further identification.

"Right up those stairs there young man. We'll send for the doctor, get yourselves settled." Zack doesn't hesitate, no more curious onlookers, no more murmuring amongst themselves about the strange men come to town. Out of sight, hopefully out of mind.

He barely makes it up the steps with what little strength he has left but the moment he spots a bed, he eases Cloud down from his shoulders and lays him gently across the mattress.

"We made it Cloud...we made it." His voice is as dry as his mouth, croaks out one word after the other and it feels like he's got sandpaper for a throat. But they're here. They made it. Nothing tastes as sweet as that. Except...

Water! They've got running water in their pipes! He fumbles around the room for something to fill and finds a coffee mug stashed in a drawer. Rinsing it out in the sink, he fills it to the brim and kneels on the bed to prop the man up against his chest and drip feed him liquid.

Before the blond can allow himself to relax now that the pain was gone, he feels Zack lightly pulling him so their foreheads are touching. A familiar gesture. The warmth of Zack's hand and the gentle pressure that would follow, close enough to hear his breathing and properly hear his voice through the thick mako.

Zack's breathing shudders as Cloud's eyes focus on the droplets travelling down his face.

He's crying...

Something stirs in Cloud, he didn't know how often this happened but now that his mind was clear and he could see it happening, he really hated seeing Zack cry. He wanted it to stop, he needed to do something but he wasn't sure what.

Move something. Anything!

Pain turns to rage and he tilts his head to get a good look at the offending creature before he puts it out of its meaningless existence. It's not a spider. It's...

Sky blue eyes widen in shock, still trembling lips part, and his heart skips a beat.

Zack's gaze snaps back to the listless face of his companion and though the tears haven't stopped their march down grime covered cheeks there is hope in his eyes.

"Cloud..." He's still in there somewhere. Still conscious. Still... Is it better or worse, knowing now? Knowing the man who is depending on him, incapable of protecting himself, watching him fail? Suffering for it?

Get it together Fair, now's not the time.

"I'm here." He murmurs, the materia rolls from his hand as he reaches for the younger man's face, cradling it in both palms to thumb away the splatter of blood on his cheek. Dried now, caking. He sniffs back the fresh bout of tears and sobers up.

"I'm here...I'm so sorry Cloud. I'll do better. I promise. I can protect you." He can and he will. Cloud's still in there. He's fighting. And it gives Zack all the resolve he needs. Settles like an iron ball in his gut and grounds him. He wipes at the remnants of tears and takes a deep breath to even out.

"Let's get to the next town, alright? Sleep in a nice bed for once." Gaia knows they need it. More careful than he's ever been before, Zack lifts the comatose blonde to a half slumped stand and maneuvers his limp limbs over his shoulders to squat down and pick him up. Both legs resting comfortably over his hips he leans forward to retrieve his sword and slot it onto the magnet hidden beneath the fabric of the back of Cloud's shirt.

There's sadness on Aerith's features, of course. She understands how Zack could feel. Even when she lost her mother, years ago, even if she was a child, she wondered if she could have prevented this to happen. She thought that if she could have been stronger, things could have been different. But of course it would have been impossible. Hojo killed her. Hojo is the worst of all of them.

"I can't save anyone..." Genesis. Angeal. Sephiroth. No matter the choices he makes everyone he loves... Grief is the greatest enemy of them all. There is nothing to rival it, nothing to ease it. It sits in the chest like the weight of the world pressing down and its suffocating.