Not Quite
Title: Not Quite
Fandom: FF7
Characters: Zack and Cloud
Words: 1664
Rating: R
Warnings: Deathfic
Note: Written for both my 30_Deathfic challenges and to try to kickstart nezure
Summary: Zack seemed to have missed an important detail about this whole death thing...
There were things, and then there were things. Little things and big things. Birthdays and anniversaries. Life and death. You know, all that stuff that you really weren't supposed to lose track of. And then, of course, were those things that you could pout your way out of.
Zack, for his part, had always believed death to be more likely in the former category than the later, but for some reason it was really starting to not look that way. In fact, he thought he was doing pretty damn good for someone who was travelling with another someone who just so happened to be a bit out of commission. He wouldn't think of the other man, it was weird to call him that but it was certainly true now, as a burden. Spike could never be that and he had his high respect that he'd lasted so long, even if he had needed a little help.
Especially with all the crap they had to go through to get here.
First tests, then tanks, and then there was that whole being dead thing Cloud had pulled in there at the beginning. Had terrified the shit out of him, that. And mako, lots of mako. In fact, he doubted he would ever fully get the burn of mako to ever really leave his eyes. It had been going now for almost a year strong, the whole time since we'd gotten out of there in fact, but being in the dark always helped. The light didn't blind him as much, and picking colors apart was easier since they weren't eclipsed in a materia-shaded tinge of purple. Well, not as bad.
Which… was really the problem now. It was so damn bright that it was hard to tell who was where, and things were just a tad overwhelming. Downside to being all advanced and super like he was. Overvamped senses hit a point, then from there it was just a downward slide when it got to be too damn much. Which it was about now. Still, he could vaguely hear himself talking to Spike, making sure Spike knew what the hell was going on as they moved fast, the blond helping out how he could as they avoided the shooters.
As it stood, he could feel the pull and burn of a wound, which he thought he was ignoring rather gracefully, all stumbling aside. That, however, was really his own fault for being so slow on the uptake. It wasn't important, his injury, and it wasn't going to be important until they got out of sight, out of mind. All that fun stuff that hadn't really done them a lick of good in months and months but it sure and the hell was going to be something important now.
He managed to keep Spike moving as they crested the hill, but he himself stumbled hard, seeing that place they had been trying to get to, and it was enough to distract him. Some bastard shot him again and he could feel it, that being enough to jar him back to proper mobility. He couldn't let the other man get in the crossfire. The blond was depending on him here, so he couldn't just leave him like that. Thus they had to get moving, and it really didn't matter just how close they were, cause they weren't out of the woods yet.
Well, they were, but not the proverbial ones.
Unfortunately, he was getting clumsy, and the next potshot some ass took at him managed to make him stumble hard enough to fall, and he had to scramble not to have Spike hit the ground in a bad way. Didn't have the materia or potions to fix on an oops, and the gods only knew that they didn't need that kind of pain here.
Still, for some reason his coordination was shot to hell and he couldn't seem to get the blond back in his arms. He couldn't even manage to get back on his feet come to think of it. But apparently he got up far enough to make a target of himself. Then he was falling, bullets filling his vision, but nothing was hurting, at least not that he was noticing. But it was dark, definitely dark.
Now was so not the time to be unconscious, it really wasn't. But gods if he knew what else it could be when it was clear that it was lights out.
-o-o-o-o-o-
He'd fallen at an angle to watch, and when Zack had tugged at him to try to get him around he'd been able to see more. It was… it was worse than horrible. There was blood, blood everywhere. On him. Zack was touching him and so close that the smell of, smell of, that…. The scent of blood and gunpowder was vaguely overwhelming, but he couldn't make himself move. He could see- see that, and moving wouldn’t make it better.
And they just left. They didn't come to look, didn't come check, just shot a few more time from where they were and left. And he was here, with Zack. He wanted to know why Zack wasn't talking, why he hadn't gathered him up to get moving again. Shifting over a little, in that way that always got Zack on the move, was enough to jostle… and he could see better.
He didn't want to see that better. The blood was bad enough, and the… other things. But that. He didn't want to see. Didn't want to see it at all. His own sharp keen was enough to make him twitch on some level, but he didn't know what, and he tried to back out of it, keep free of it. He didn't want it on him, didn't…
He managed to close his eyes, and he hoped that made it all go away.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Okay, he was sore. In lots of places, but he was here, and that's what counted. Sitting up was weird, like he was trying to drag through water at a way too fast speed, but he ignored that, turning his attention to Spike. Gods, the poor guy, he had blood all over him. No wonder he was looking so freaked out. Hell, that was more emotional than he'd been in months. But freaked out wasn't the way to go. He reached, finding he had a really hard time getting the hang of movement, and he could see the blood on his hands. Damn blood loss must have mucked him all up, it would explain why he couldn't really feel anything.
He did get a grip though, finally, and he found it very odd how tiring it was just to tug Spike up to a sitting position. In fact, it was plenty tiring enough he barely had the guy upright before everything went black and swirly around him again.
"Damn it."
-o-o-o-o-o-
There was nothing there. Nothing there that he could see. There was something there that he really didn't want to see, but that wasn't the same. It hadn't, couldn't, move. Eyes wide now instead of closed tight, he dropped his gaze to the body. Dead body. Dead body full of holes.
He wasn't sure how he'd gotten upright. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten here, but there was… He was sitting. Had he done it on his own?
Did that mean he could move on his own?
Reaching, hands shaky, he did the first thing that he knew to do.
Fingers sticky from the cooling blood, he started to strip the body. He wanted to bury it, keep something from it.
He didn't have the power to. Even though he had the ability to move now, just getting the clothes off was utterly exhausting. Instead, he just held vigil. Made sure it was really dead.
He didn't know how a corpse would move with no face, but Zack might try, he was like that. Hugging the bloody items to his chest, he just sat and watched.
-o-o-o-o-o-
This time when he came around it was a bit better. Rather allot better. Everything was still strange fuzzy numb, but the aches were almost gone. Not healed, he was sure, but the pain was a pulse beat of hurt along his jaw and chest instead of a burning fiery shooting sensation. He had to sit back up, get himself upright with a stumble, before he could try to work on Spike.
It was weird, a stumbling ungraceful thing he thought he would have managed to get around by now.
Shaking it off, and checking if Spike was more aware than not by waving a hand between the blond and whatever he was staring at, he shifted so he could help the blond get to his feet, grabbing the sword they had with the other hand.
"C'mon Spike, whatever it is that has you enthralled, while it might not be here later, isn't going to be all that important, right?"
He blinked at the wide-eyed look the blond was giving things once Zack had him on his feet, but then he just grinned, a genuinely happy expression. It was better than wonderful to see the other man aware. Looking around and listening hard to make sure that there weren't anymore snipers, he ended up needing to give the blade to the smaller man as his fingers kept wanting to slip off of it.
"Okay, that might be too much coordination for me just now. You go ahead and keep that on you, alright?"
Making sure they wouldn't fall over, and that he wasn't going to black out again, he started back in the direction of Midgar. He didn't look back, and there was nothing important to be seen off that direction anyway.
No, better thoughts were to be had.
Of course, what they left behind would have been a really good clue about one of the things that it turns out he really needed to know.
Fandom: FF7
Characters: Zack and Cloud
Words: 1664
Rating: R
Warnings: Deathfic
Note: Written for both my 30_Deathfic challenges and to try to kickstart nezure
Summary: Zack seemed to have missed an important detail about this whole death thing...
There were things, and then there were things. Little things and big things. Birthdays and anniversaries. Life and death. You know, all that stuff that you really weren't supposed to lose track of. And then, of course, were those things that you could pout your way out of.
Zack, for his part, had always believed death to be more likely in the former category than the later, but for some reason it was really starting to not look that way. In fact, he thought he was doing pretty damn good for someone who was travelling with another someone who just so happened to be a bit out of commission. He wouldn't think of the other man, it was weird to call him that but it was certainly true now, as a burden. Spike could never be that and he had his high respect that he'd lasted so long, even if he had needed a little help.
Especially with all the crap they had to go through to get here.
First tests, then tanks, and then there was that whole being dead thing Cloud had pulled in there at the beginning. Had terrified the shit out of him, that. And mako, lots of mako. In fact, he doubted he would ever fully get the burn of mako to ever really leave his eyes. It had been going now for almost a year strong, the whole time since we'd gotten out of there in fact, but being in the dark always helped. The light didn't blind him as much, and picking colors apart was easier since they weren't eclipsed in a materia-shaded tinge of purple. Well, not as bad.
Which… was really the problem now. It was so damn bright that it was hard to tell who was where, and things were just a tad overwhelming. Downside to being all advanced and super like he was. Overvamped senses hit a point, then from there it was just a downward slide when it got to be too damn much. Which it was about now. Still, he could vaguely hear himself talking to Spike, making sure Spike knew what the hell was going on as they moved fast, the blond helping out how he could as they avoided the shooters.
As it stood, he could feel the pull and burn of a wound, which he thought he was ignoring rather gracefully, all stumbling aside. That, however, was really his own fault for being so slow on the uptake. It wasn't important, his injury, and it wasn't going to be important until they got out of sight, out of mind. All that fun stuff that hadn't really done them a lick of good in months and months but it sure and the hell was going to be something important now.
He managed to keep Spike moving as they crested the hill, but he himself stumbled hard, seeing that place they had been trying to get to, and it was enough to distract him. Some bastard shot him again and he could feel it, that being enough to jar him back to proper mobility. He couldn't let the other man get in the crossfire. The blond was depending on him here, so he couldn't just leave him like that. Thus they had to get moving, and it really didn't matter just how close they were, cause they weren't out of the woods yet.
Well, they were, but not the proverbial ones.
Unfortunately, he was getting clumsy, and the next potshot some ass took at him managed to make him stumble hard enough to fall, and he had to scramble not to have Spike hit the ground in a bad way. Didn't have the materia or potions to fix on an oops, and the gods only knew that they didn't need that kind of pain here.
Still, for some reason his coordination was shot to hell and he couldn't seem to get the blond back in his arms. He couldn't even manage to get back on his feet come to think of it. But apparently he got up far enough to make a target of himself. Then he was falling, bullets filling his vision, but nothing was hurting, at least not that he was noticing. But it was dark, definitely dark.
Now was so not the time to be unconscious, it really wasn't. But gods if he knew what else it could be when it was clear that it was lights out.
-o-o-o-o-o-
He'd fallen at an angle to watch, and when Zack had tugged at him to try to get him around he'd been able to see more. It was… it was worse than horrible. There was blood, blood everywhere. On him. Zack was touching him and so close that the smell of, smell of, that…. The scent of blood and gunpowder was vaguely overwhelming, but he couldn't make himself move. He could see- see that, and moving wouldn’t make it better.
And they just left. They didn't come to look, didn't come check, just shot a few more time from where they were and left. And he was here, with Zack. He wanted to know why Zack wasn't talking, why he hadn't gathered him up to get moving again. Shifting over a little, in that way that always got Zack on the move, was enough to jostle… and he could see better.
He didn't want to see that better. The blood was bad enough, and the… other things. But that. He didn't want to see. Didn't want to see it at all. His own sharp keen was enough to make him twitch on some level, but he didn't know what, and he tried to back out of it, keep free of it. He didn't want it on him, didn't…
He managed to close his eyes, and he hoped that made it all go away.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Okay, he was sore. In lots of places, but he was here, and that's what counted. Sitting up was weird, like he was trying to drag through water at a way too fast speed, but he ignored that, turning his attention to Spike. Gods, the poor guy, he had blood all over him. No wonder he was looking so freaked out. Hell, that was more emotional than he'd been in months. But freaked out wasn't the way to go. He reached, finding he had a really hard time getting the hang of movement, and he could see the blood on his hands. Damn blood loss must have mucked him all up, it would explain why he couldn't really feel anything.
He did get a grip though, finally, and he found it very odd how tiring it was just to tug Spike up to a sitting position. In fact, it was plenty tiring enough he barely had the guy upright before everything went black and swirly around him again.
"Damn it."
-o-o-o-o-o-
There was nothing there. Nothing there that he could see. There was something there that he really didn't want to see, but that wasn't the same. It hadn't, couldn't, move. Eyes wide now instead of closed tight, he dropped his gaze to the body. Dead body. Dead body full of holes.
He wasn't sure how he'd gotten upright. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten here, but there was… He was sitting. Had he done it on his own?
Did that mean he could move on his own?
Reaching, hands shaky, he did the first thing that he knew to do.
Fingers sticky from the cooling blood, he started to strip the body. He wanted to bury it, keep something from it.
He didn't have the power to. Even though he had the ability to move now, just getting the clothes off was utterly exhausting. Instead, he just held vigil. Made sure it was really dead.
He didn't know how a corpse would move with no face, but Zack might try, he was like that. Hugging the bloody items to his chest, he just sat and watched.
-o-o-o-o-o-
This time when he came around it was a bit better. Rather allot better. Everything was still strange fuzzy numb, but the aches were almost gone. Not healed, he was sure, but the pain was a pulse beat of hurt along his jaw and chest instead of a burning fiery shooting sensation. He had to sit back up, get himself upright with a stumble, before he could try to work on Spike.
It was weird, a stumbling ungraceful thing he thought he would have managed to get around by now.
Shaking it off, and checking if Spike was more aware than not by waving a hand between the blond and whatever he was staring at, he shifted so he could help the blond get to his feet, grabbing the sword they had with the other hand.
"C'mon Spike, whatever it is that has you enthralled, while it might not be here later, isn't going to be all that important, right?"
He blinked at the wide-eyed look the blond was giving things once Zack had him on his feet, but then he just grinned, a genuinely happy expression. It was better than wonderful to see the other man aware. Looking around and listening hard to make sure that there weren't anymore snipers, he ended up needing to give the blade to the smaller man as his fingers kept wanting to slip off of it.
"Okay, that might be too much coordination for me just now. You go ahead and keep that on you, alright?"
Making sure they wouldn't fall over, and that he wasn't going to black out again, he started back in the direction of Midgar. He didn't look back, and there was nothing important to be seen off that direction anyway.
No, better thoughts were to be had.
Of course, what they left behind would have been a really good clue about one of the things that it turns out he really needed to know.