FicWad

Time seemed to blur somhow-- there was the one, clear moment of standing in front of Cloud, neither of them saying anything, and then everything whirled away into a bustle of motion as children ran, and an engine coughed to life. He had half-remembered impressions of streets and buildings, dust and concrete and the inside of a truck-- but most of his attention was on the motorcycle coasting alongside them, occasionally dropping back or pulling ahead but never going far.

And then they were in a bar, amidst a sea of upturned stools, curled around mugs of something warm while night fell outside. The truck had been put away, the children had been tucked in bed, and it was finally quiet. Only the woman-- Tifa, he finally remembered, though come a long way from Nibelheim-- was still there with them, puttering in the background, far enough away to not be eavesdropping but still close enough to watch. It was almost endearing, the way she was so protective of Cloud. A kind of relief, even, to know that he'd had someone looking out for him.

Zack's eyes slid up, away from the curl of steam rising between his hands and across the table to where the man in question sat nursing his own drink. He hadn't spoken, really, since they'd arrived, simply sitting and staring into his mug with his face pale and still a bit slack from shock. It became increasingly obvious to Zack as the minutes went by that if anyone was going to break the silence, it would have to be him.

He cleared his throat, and saw Cloud's eyes snap up towards him at the sound. "Guess I owe you a story, huh?" he began, trying on another grin. "Well, I'm afraid it's not going to be much of one. I don't really remember much-- not more than three or four months back, anyway." He twisted the mug in his hands, thought about drinking from it, but decided in the end to just keep going. "Just kinda-- woke up in the morning one day, and everything from then on is clear. I was camping out, and it looked like I'd been doing it for a little while, at least. What gear I had I'd obviously stolen, from the amount of different name tags in all of it, though I don't know from where."

A glance up at Cloud's face showed that he was paying attention, but gave precious little other clue as to what might be going on behind those faintly-glowing eyes. Zack cleared his throat again, feeling awkward-- his voice felt scratchy, dry, like he hadn't spoken much in quite some time, and the sound coming out of him wasn't quite what he expected to hear.

"Anyway," he continued after a moment, "Turns out I was in the complete middle of nowhere, though I didn't find that out until a bit later. Back around Gongaga, if you can believe it-- took me a full day to find a town. And once I'd got my bearings, I packed myself up and started looking for you."

"Why?"

Cloud's voice was quiet, but there was no way that Zack wouldn't have heard it. "Because for all I knew I'd left you lying in the dirt somewhere, when I was supposed to be taking care of you," he answered in the same quiet tone. "The last thing I remember from before that is escaping from that damned lab." He barked a short, humourless laugh. "Didn't learn until later that I was four damned/ years /too late to bring you to Midgar."

Cloud visibly flinched-- across the room, Tifa tensed, looking their way with narrowed eyes. But Cloud glanced at her once, shaking his head the slightest bit, then took a deep breath and turned back to Zack.

And after a moment of painful hesitation, he haltingly began to relate a story. In sparse words, he sketched out a journey through the wilderness, ending on a cliff above the city-- and as he spoke, a chill started to creep over Zack, as if something in him remembered even if the conscious parts of him didn't.

At the end of it, Cloud met his eyes in a bright, hard stare, looking distressed. "You died," he forced out. "I /saw /you die." And his face tightened with old pain, until Zack reached out a hand on instinct.

He stopped the gesture in midair, though, as Cloud just drew a deep breath and pulled his control back around him again. When he met Zack's eyes again, his face was calm.

And Zack felt the missing years stretch between them suddenly, wide and empty and unknowable.

"You were dead," Cloud repeated with some conviction, and there was an odd kind of suspicion behind his eyes.

Zack could only shrug, not knowing what else to do, and offer a lopsided smile. "Maybe I was faking?"

"Not unless you could fake your way into having no pulse," Cloud answered cooly, and Zack winced. "So you'll understand how I'm having some trouble accepting this," Cloud continued. "I mean, only a few months ago I fought Sephiroth again. And I'd seen him dead twice already before that. I don't think I can be surprised, anymore, at what science can and will do."

Cloud's face was hard, and closed, and wary. "Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I can't help but wonder if this is something the same. I can't help but--" He broke off, shaking his head and frowning. "How do I know you're really Zack, and not-- some shell made to look like him?"

And Cloud stopped, watching him, obviously waiting for an answer-- and Zack could only stare back, wondering just what the hell had been happening while he had been out of it. He struggled for something to say, because there was a look in Cloud's eyes that made him need to say something. Convince me/, the look said. /Give me something to believe in, give me a reason to believe in you, because I want to but don't know if I dare--

And suddenly, the answer was there.

Without giving himself time to think about it, Zack stood and started pulling at the buttons of his shirt, sliding the whole mess off over his head the moment it was loose enough. And then he stood, facing Cloud, waiting.

Silence reigned for long moments, broken only by one startled draw of air from Tifa, nearly forgotten on the other side of the room. Zack eventually raised a hand to touch one of the puckered circles of scar tissue that covered his chest, not bothering to look down to see the rest.

"I didn't know what they were from," he said quietly. "Could never remember. But if what you say is true-- then I think I can guess."

Cloud stood slowly, taking a few steps closer with eyes fixed on the scars, studying them with a bright-eyed intensity. And, slowly, he nodded once. Zack, after another silent, awkward moment, pulled his shirt back on.

And then Cloud looked up at him, and all of the tight, old pain was replaced with something achingly like hope-- and he reached out and wrapped his arms around Zack's neck, pulling him into a crushing hug. Zack returned the embrace after only a split second's hesitation. closing his eyes, feeling the warmth of the other's body seeping through his clothes, inhaling that still-familiar scent.

And he finally, finally found he could relax, knowing that he'd made it where he was going after all.