(no subject)

[moseyin]

[It happens in the middle of nowhere.

Just another nondescript hole Zack's found to curl them up into. Sometimes they're lucky enough to get a bed in the slums somewhere, the outskirts of some crappy little village or the deep, dank alleyways of a larger city. Most of the time they have a tent, if they're lucky, if Zack manages and money allows, and sometimes they're not lucky and they forfeit shelter for food, for potions for when Zack gets a wound that grit and gumption can't close.

Well- Zack does all of these things. They're a 'they' in bodycount only.

It's Zack dragging himself and Cloud across the countryside, it's Zack finding them shelter, finding them food, tearing into monsters to scrape together enough gil to keep them alive. It's Zack looking after the few wounds Cloud acquires during their journey, it's Zack who talks to him, who feeds him, who carries him on his god damn back for days and days and days on end. Weeks. Months.

Cloud isn't often awake, but sometimes he is. Things are hazy like a dream, sloppy like slumber, slips and strips of memory, of experiences that barely thread together to make something patchwork. And that's how it is when it happens too, because it was only a couple times, fighting to break the surface of a pool of tar. He emerges not with a gasp but an awareness, only for a few moments before he's pulled under. Each time Zack was gone, or asleep, clutching Cloud to his chest for protection but too exhausted to hear his breathless whispers of Zack, Zack as Cloud tries desperately to rouse him, if only to reassure him of I'm here, I hear you, I see you, you're not alone until the mako curls around and into him and pulls him back under.

And then, that middle of nowhere.

Cloud wakes to the sun on his face; weak morning sun, wobbly, not yet hot. They'd slept outside. Zack is already awake, humming to himself, murmuring something, fiddling with a fire. He's going to make a hot breakfast for them. A luxury.

Cloud waits those few minutes, tense and unnerved, waiting for the coils of mako to pull him back under. His limbs still feel weak but something is...different this time. Things feel sharper. He can hear things more than Zack this time, more than the beat of his heart and the hush of his breath; he can hear the crackle of the fire, the chirp of far off birdsong. Cloud can feel the humidity clinging to his skin, sticking his clothes to his chest and back. He can smell the outdoors around them.

He is present. At last, he is.

Zack's turning around towards him, probably to collect him and bring him closer to the fire, to feed him again and once Zack reaches for him, once Cloud is sure he'll see he reaches, just barely, and closes a hand around Zack's wrist.] Zack.

Comments

[wingenvy]

[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.]

[moseyin]

Shit, [Cloud grouses, and passes the binoculars back over to Zack.

They're both lying belly-down on a muddy outcrop, buried in obnoxiously thick undergrowth and sharing a pair of binoculars between them in an effort to see through the late afternoon drizzle only to spot-] You're totally right. Looks like Turk detail.

[Turks rarely travel with infantry, but sure enough there are two troopers guarding the nearest pathway into the jungle surrounding Gongaga, flare guns slung on their belts. They're not there to stop anybody, just to alert the Turks if their quarry is spotted.

And he and Zack had discussed it, too. We're not doing it if the Turks are there. Too risky.

But now they're here and Cloud can feel the anger and frustration that's all too near the surface these days starting to bubble up. They're so close. They're so close to giving Zack's parents a piece of mind, to getting a decent weapon for Cloud. And to just turn around and leave would be a waste of nearly a week's worth of travel.

Cloud glances at Zack out of the corner of his eye.]