[Yesterday was a pretty good day- not even for just what counts as "great" for them and this hellish road trip they're on, but really good. There'd been no threat too big that he couldn't handle alone, the weather had been beautiful and clear, he'd found a river for them both to have a proper bath for the first time in at least two weeks, and following it had led them not only to a nest of animals that looked suitable for eating but this old, abandoned campsite. No tent, but with no raincloud in sight Zack felt confident that they could enjoy a night sleeping out under the stars. He'd set up a perimeter, hung out the meat to dry, and fallen asleep stargazing with Cloud curled up against his side for warmth. Yeah, a good day.
Today's not shaping up too badly, either. In his scouring of the campsite he'd found a pan, left abandoned for a long while but relatively clean and unrusted- nothing a bit of the water can't fix, or a bit of mako enhancement can't tolerate. They get cooked meat for once, fresh and tasty.
He might have missed Cloud's voice if it hadn't come hand in hand with the grip. Cloud's touched him before, that blind sort of flailing of limbs when something triggered a response in him, but it was never coherent and Zack could never figure out how to make it happen. He'd tried talking, physical contact, proximity, planting Cloud in front of things to try and prod his brain- the cutest one had been when he'd found that group of wild chocobos, Cloud had gotten a face full of flailing chick feathers when he'd grabbed for the fluff. They'd had a whole three seconds worth of adorable before he'd had to grab Cloud and hightail it out of there when the mother came charging at them.
This hold was different. It was tight and firm, like the grip one has on a weapon or a real solid handshake. Cloud doesn't hold things like that anymore, he never has the focus for it. It's jarring enough that Zack shifts his gaze to Cloud's eyes instead of offering up the usual "hey, buddy, c'mon, up we go" when Cloud mumbles his name. (He used to react more, in the early days. Before he knew the depth of Cloud's poison, before he realized the situation they were in, before he realized how ill-equipped he is to fix this.)
He finds a far more clear-eyed stare than he'd expected. Cloud hasn't looked like that since...]
...Cloud?
[The hesitance in his voice is telling. It's hard to hope; most days he doesn't dare. He's never given up on Cloud, always believed that recovery was possible, but he's surrendered the idea that it would go away on its own time. Surely it would never be this miraculous.]
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momijizukamori
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Date: 2018-07-09 05:16 pm (UTC)Today's not shaping up too badly, either. In his scouring of the campsite he'd found a pan, left abandoned for a long while but relatively clean and unrusted- nothing a bit of the water can't fix, or a bit of mako enhancement can't tolerate. They get cooked meat for once, fresh and tasty.
He might have missed Cloud's voice if it hadn't come hand in hand with the grip. Cloud's touched him before, that blind sort of flailing of limbs when something triggered a response in him, but it was never coherent and Zack could never figure out how to make it happen. He'd tried talking, physical contact, proximity, planting Cloud in front of things to try and prod his brain- the cutest one had been when he'd found that group of wild chocobos, Cloud had gotten a face full of flailing chick feathers when he'd grabbed for the fluff. They'd had a whole three seconds worth of adorable before he'd had to grab Cloud and hightail it out of there when the mother came charging at them.
This hold was different. It was tight and firm, like the grip one has on a weapon or a real solid handshake. Cloud doesn't hold things like that anymore, he never has the focus for it. It's jarring enough that Zack shifts his gaze to Cloud's eyes instead of offering up the usual "hey, buddy, c'mon, up we go" when Cloud mumbles his name. (He used to react more, in the early days. Before he knew the depth of Cloud's poison, before he realized the situation they were in, before he realized how ill-equipped he is to fix this.)
He finds a far more clear-eyed stare than he'd expected. Cloud hasn't looked like that since...]
...Cloud?
[The hesitance in his voice is telling. It's hard to hope; most days he doesn't dare. He's never given up on Cloud, always believed that recovery was possible, but he's surrendered the idea that it would go away on its own time. Surely it would never be this miraculous.]