Final Fantasy VII 1. Nightmare

.:: Nightmare ::.

_The all-too familiar sound of gunshots rippled the air about him. Limply, the body lay forgotten as the raven-haired man unsheathed his sword against the foes. The blade sung as it cut down three more soldiers, the haunting echo of their guns still ringing as they fell to the ground._

_Agate eyes swiveled back to the forgotten figure, laying face down upon the ground. Bounding back on weakening legs, sword glinting in the murky light of morning, the man crouched beside the other. That, gaze, still blank, gave no notice of their pursuers. And the body, still lifeless, revealed no injury by the bullets that had grazed the older. _

_Yet, even as the face wearing those green eyes returned to their assailants, etched with a righteous anger, gunshots sliced through the short silence. Unprepared, bullets sliced through soft cloth, marring the chest of the raven-haired protector. He flew backwards, accosting the ground in agony as the blood began to stain his armor. A gloved hand held still to the sword, refusing to relinquish the weapon, as if hoping that his body would garner enough will to stand once more. _

_The pain though, it wrung through him. Breaths came out with only forced determination, ragged and haggard from the metal piercing his system. Yet, not even the obvious pain of their prey could stop the gun-wielding men as they dashed forward. Two stood their distance, merely watching, as the gun hovered before the glowing gaze. Masked was the face of the blue-garbed man who stood before the protector, barrel to the afterlife aimed for his eyes. _

_Time seemed to slow, as a soft flutter of fear penetrated the protector's mind. No, not death. A fate worse than death. He had failed to protect the one he loved… twice now. And, this nonce, this present, should not have been. Because… _

_The silence that was the raven-haired man's thoughts was shattered as the bullet's exploded from the shooter's well-trained hands. They tumbled, like rain, across the bleeding man's body. And, as if a splitting acid's fall, coated every fragment of his form imaginable. His throat was torn, split, and his body raised as the bullet's rain continued to his stomach, curling in to stop the murderous assault. _

_The sweating head met the earth again as the familiar sound of reloading accosted the swordsman's ears, accompanied by the rapid beating of his heart and rapidly shallow breath. This was how he would die… suffering and bleeding until at last his breath faltered. But, this moment should not have been. Because…_

_But, the bullets rainfall began again. The man's thoughts were torn, ripped, and shredded as the gun found its aim trailing to his head. _

_The last thing he saw was the bullet before it dove down into his mind and the green-hued city above him._

_… but, because of Nibelheim it was…_

Violet eyes flashed open with a start. Sweat poured from the shaking body as a hand warily rose to meet the flushed warmth of his forehead. A trembling breath escaped his lips as he felt still the solidity of his skin there, and not the bullet that he had perceived.

The welcoming shadows of the ceiling, and not the polluted sky, danced across his bleary vision as his palm rest across his forehead. His rubbed the imagined pain of the steel intrusion with his hand as his body trembled still with the realism of the dream. The man's free hand found itself upon his chest, delicately touching the areas where the phantom pain had inflicted, whilst hoping to calm the uneven beating of his heart. A numbing fear still clawed at him as he recalled each protrusion by the bullets, and each breath that left him reminding him of those in the nightmare.

Zack needed to move.

A sidelong glance ensured that those silver-locks still rose and fell across the naked chest of his lover before the raven-haired man pulled away the sheets covering himself, almost breathing a sigh of relief when he found no blood marring them. Quietly, Zack relinquished the bed to the larger of them as he stood, stumbling slightly as his knees grew weak.

Tanned hands stretched out and caught the raven-haired man before he could fall to the floor. The barely audible thump was enough to result in the stirring of the form behind Zack, alone in the bed. Quickly, lest he be caught in such weakness, the man pulled himself to his feet. A gentle swaying met his head, and the fear still clung to him. But, with the slow breaths he forced, violet eyes closed again.

"… Zachary…?" came the question. Soft, soothing… familiar. The deep baritone that was Sephiroth's velvety voice beseeched his ears in an almost loving caress. It was, as if without even touching him, those strong arms were wrapping around him and telling him not to be afraid.

But, he was… by the gods, he was…

Forcing away the trembling, the raven-haired man turned to face his lover, eyebrows quirking in answer. "Yeah?" Oh gods… was his voice… shaking? Please, don't let it be shaking… he didn't want to make Sephiroth worry. No, not after all they had been through.

The silver-haired man seemed to regard his other half with inquisition, glowing green cat-eyes narrowed in the soft shadows of his face. He sat now on the bed, propped up on his elbows as his muscled frame was revealed in the faint light that shone through the window. Zack was sure the man had heard him gasping for breath as he awoke from that nightmare. But, really hoped he hadn't.

Was that his knees shaking? Curse them! Never worked right when he needed them! But, whether or not it was from the lingering fear or possibility of melting into his lover's arms, Zack wasn't sure. Really, though, he doubted Sephiroth would believe the latter.

"Is something the matter?" came the gentle inquisition. If heard by another, such might have been such a cold and callous question, especially given the situation. But, the raven-haired man knew his lover much better than that. In fact, he probably knew more of the general's quirks than the man gave credit to. That delicate murmur of concern embellishing that voice was more than enough to attempt breaking the façade Zack was putting up.

"No…" came the lie between clenched teeth. "I was just getting some water." And, even though the last was not necessarily deceitful, it still felt that way. Zack hoped, _prayed_, that Sephiroth didn't see through his falsehood. No, not tonight. Not with the mission so close…

Ah, but those eyes. Those jades that could pierce any soul narrowed further. The man could see the lie. It was practically floating in the air between them!

"Zachary." It was the warning voice, that voice he heard when his patience was being tested with obvious idiots. Short and clipped as always. It was still the low baritone that marked Sephiroth in his entirety, but now it had lost some of its soft gentleness, if not all.

Violet eyes looked away from the glare, a slight blush of shame creeping up into his cheeks. Taking no chances with the increasingly short temper of the general, Zack crept back to the bed. And, as he stood at the edge, his chanced a glance back at his lover.

Yet, still, the glare was fixated in that glowing gaze. And the raven-haired man obeyed the unspoken wish to crawl back into the empty bed beside them. But, even when he did that, nude body now adorned with the white of the sheets, the glare did not abate.

Tenuously, Zack's purple gaze met his lover's again. "Do not lie to me," came the growl from above him. And though those strong hands did not move, the eyes boring down at him hurt as much as the appendages would have.

"I know naught where you have been disappearing late in the evenings; but, gods be damned if you're acquiring water." Sephiroth hissed. The raven-haired man wanted to look away, but knew now was past the appropriate time. He could hold his head in shame, let tears run down his cheeks as his disgrace clawed at him, but he wouldn't. Not with Sephiroth. This was not how he would act.

The general leaned closer to his lover, the glower still etched within his eyes. "Just because I fuck you does not mean that I let you walk free." Zack felt his shame creep back up on him, but bit it back. He knew the general meant the security level his apartment was perched on. The one with the important documents and ShinRa secrets, some of which he had taken the liberty to browse through. "And because I call you mine, you _are_ mine."

At the words the younger of them looked away. He knew what Sephiroth was referring to now. That time when he had snuck away back to the barracks only to find a wandering group of SOLDIER brand Firsts in the Thirds quarters and was decidedly, well… at least the general had bought the lie and didn't force an end to the lives of the five men. It was better that Zack receive a heated glare telling his lover a furtive lie about sleeping around then having murder lay heavily on his shoulders.

Like he was right now.

Except without the murder threat.

"And Zachary," was the general's snarl as his one-sided argument continued. "because I know this you have to leave."

At the words, wide purple eyes shot up to meet those of jade. But, they were unmoving, cold, and hard. Did he just…? Was he saying…? Horror filtered through the raven-haired man's system. The clawing numbness returned with full force, making his breath almost impossible to draw. Just like that dream. That damned fucking dream! Was… was this like that dream??

Shaking once more, one of Zack's hand reached out to touch Sephiroth. But it was batted away. Forcefully.

"Get out," came the hiss, accosting his ears in its virulent tone.

It was so hard to breath… Did Sephiroth really just… just…? "What?" Zack whispered back, his voice close to breaking. The eyes of his lover still pierced him with their icy indifference, even through the mist of tears that met his violet gaze.

"Get out." It was a threat now. Each word punctuated with an acidy slithering hatred.

Body trembling, the raven-haired man knew, in the rational part of his mind, that his should obey his general's order. But, but… he was… afraid….

Obviously, when Zack made no intention of moving, his superior decided to move him personally. A hard fist met itself in the younger's toning stomach, knocking nearly the life from him as his body curled around the pain. He felt himself falling, accosting the ground with struggled breath as his eyes blinked away the tears. It was… the dream? No…

Oh gods… help him…

It was all… too much….

A hand jerked him to his feet, thrusting a bundle in his arms as he stumbled. Zack's couldn't help the fresh tears that trailed down his cheeks as he opened his eyes to stare down at his clothes, body shaking with silent sobs as that fear engulfed him entirely. Trembling, the raven-haired man did as he was silently commanded. He pulled on the clothes that marked him as a SOLDIER First without any pride.

Hadn't it been just a few hours ago that his lover had gently kissed him, congratulating him on his years of work to achieve that status, that skill? Hadn't his lover been the one to tenderly undress him, a smile on his lips as they began to taste the love they had for each other again? Why was it now… now that… it was all to pieces?

As the final piece of his uniform was in place, Zack allowed the calloused hand to pull his arm to the door, leading him numbly from what had been a happy life. He didn't understand. He was afraid. What had happened?

The door to the brightly lit hallway swung open, but Zack wasn't thrown out, as expected. Rather, given a forceful shove. He stumbled slightly. Yet, as he turned his tear-stained face back to the doorway his lover had led him through after returning from the war, it was closed. Aside from the clink of a lock going into place, silence echoed through the corridor.

Defeated, afraid, cold, and now, alone, Zack wanted to curl up onto the ground, to beg and plead for Sephiroth's forgiveness, to do something – anything! But… he didn't. He just stood there, staring at the metalloid entrance to his love's home, knowing he would never be allowed in again.

It was… too much…

He needed… needed sleep, food, air – something.

The raven-haired man shook his head, turning towards the stairs. Would it matter, maybe, if he was caught breaking curfew again? Would it matter now that Sephiroth had, for some reason, attempted to cast Zack out of his life forever…?

His black tresses coruscated in the light as he shook his head, gloved hand on the door. He didn't know… he needed… he needed sleep.

As the door to the stairs opened, the black-haired man felt, strangely, as if he was looking down the stairway to Hell's bowels. He hoped, _prayed_, that this was really the nightmare… wishing that he would return, awaken, within the arms of his beloved as he opened violet eyes.

Ignoring the fresh tears, Zack began to descend the staircase.

**A/N**: Sorry for well… the weirdness of writing in the chapter… and the lack of getting to the important part! O-o But, that'll come around next chapter (if there is a next chapter!). But remember, kiddies, be sure to review if you liked it. I mean seriously, if lack of anything better to say, just say: more. I'm the review monster…. I need reviews to sustain me. And maybe Zack's luck will turn around.


	2. Chance Meeting

.:: Chance Meeting ::.

Footsteps echoed in the eerie silence of the hallway, ringing in the ears of the sole occupant. Now solemnly striding through the marked rooms in the barracks, the form paid little heed to where exactly it was headed. Thoughts of the fight replayed themselves through the forlorn mind, as the pieces of the strange puzzle refused to come into focus. That was probably why feet led their keeper into the form of the stranger before them, mind lost from his body as they bumped.

Zack, violet eyes rimmed red from his tears, blearily stared up to the figure looming above him, unsure of who might have been walking around the barracks at this hour. Well, besides him, at least. His daze was shattered as he realized exactly whose green gaze was staring down at him and blanched at the realization.

"You know," began the remark from the smirking face of a high-ranking SOLIDER First. "Little kiddies like you shouldn't be wandering around playing dress up now, should they?"

A small ounce of panic flittered through the raven-haired man's system as he looked up to his ranking officer, fighting off the urge to dash back to his lover – no, ex-lover's arms. Zack knew full well, though, that running wouldn't do him any good, not matter what desires coursed through his despair-drenched mind.

Averting his eyes, the young man nodded his head. "I know," responded his meek voice, soft and near silent despite the emptiness and perpetual reverberations of the barren corridor.

Deep chuckles echoed from the man looming above him, sadistic as always. "Then why don't we fix that?" the laughter was haunting, almost like those nightmarish gunshots from Zack's dream. The taller of them turned on his heel and the younger followed in silence, in no condition to fight back and dared not struggle.

The raven-haired man swore that the virulent cackle could be heard by even the lowly SOLDIER Thirds as he was shoved into the unnoticed storage closet, the smirking face looking down on him once more as unfamiliar hands pulled his shirt away.

- - -

An irritated groan escaped the man's lips as his raven head slowly slipped forward to the door. Skin met metal in a soft thump. Why, now, of all days, did he have to be stupid enough to leave his key somewhere? Not somewhere – _anywhere_, he annoyedly corrected.

And, of course, being so recently promoted, he should have been clinging to that key for the death of him. But, well, Zack was Zack. As his mother always said, both in person and in writing, he should never misplace anything. That would be wonderful advice… if he didn't end up losing the most important documents and objects that defined his existence in ShinRa.

Like his key…

Now, being stuck out in the hallway, smelling of sweat, and stains all over his new uniform, Zack did not once doubt that the patrol would find him breaking curfew… again. Maybe it would be more understandable, a freshly promoted SOLDIER out for a celebratory drink and sex, returning to find that he misplaced his key and decided to loll about waiting for the patrollers to hand him a fresh one.

But, he doubted it. The patrol was infamous for its rigorous cruelty to drunken members of the army. And even though Zack wasn't drunk, his disciplinary record was enough to let loose a few sleeping dart and drag him to the ShinRa regulation holding cells for proper explanation.

Ugh, but not with the mission so close…

Zack sighed, pulling his head away from the door marking his SOLDIER First residence as his hands ran through the tangled mass that was his raven hair. He could deal with those strange nightmares and that foreboding sense of dread he attained from them. The man could even deal with the rejection of his love and a little unwanted sex from a rather unpleasant acquaintance.

But, destroying his entire career and denying his parents the right to living healthy was something he couldn't do!

When the time was slow, Zack opted for paperwork jobs and screen pushing to earn gil enough to send back to Gongaga. But, those jobs paid an awful lot less than physical missions where muscle was required to push through monsters, rebels, or whatever else they put up on the board. They were the kind of things the army was meant to do for ShinRa. SOLDIERs weren't secretaries!

Ah, but the real secretaries loved to see SOLDIERs work for their pay. Diving and tackling each other in attempts to reach the savory goal sthat were the mission statements stapled onto the bulletin board and watch them deliver it, unharmed, to the hands of those paper-handling monsters. And even though, from the outside, it looked like management picked each individual exclusively for the job, it was really the secretaries who handled everything…

Speaking of handling and secretaries… he wondered if the woman he had given the document to would still allow him to go. After all, he had spilled coffee over all over her work, her dress, and her computer. But it was a normal response. Given that she had nearly jumped Zack as he stumbled to get out of the way and his hand managed to accidentally swipe the boiling coffee pot and douse her with its burning liquid. Maybe she gave away the mission out of spite…?

At the thought, the raven-haired man felt himself besieged with despair once more. Sephiroth had sought to distract Zack with his lips, his taste, and his love from the monotony that was paperwork after the grueling hours of testing that marked advancement in the ranks. So much so, that the young accident-prone fool hadn't made a single gil in the entire month!

Violet eyes wearily stared down the empty hallway. It hadn't been Sephiroth's fault, really. The man hadn't was a regular slave to his sexual inhibitions, though the general would never admit to that. Ever since Wutai and their first copulation did the silver-haired man fathom the depth that was sexual intercourse, craving it and desiring the taste of Zack…

Really, the general couldn't be blamed. It was Zack's own fault for caving and blowing off the work that was needed to sustain his parent's healthcare. But, the Nibelheim mission would revoke all that missed work. And while he was lucky to reach that, he had belatedly realized that fighting monsters – _powerful_ monsters – hadn't been exactly his forte. Okay… maybe when he was seven and whipped out his slingshot at those stupid, annoying frogs. But, he was weak at that time, and he ended up getting turned into a frog! Now he knew better than to provoke certain monsters by stepping into their territory. And, thus, rarely encountered them while on his own.

But, that wasn't the point. Zack would have another SOLDIER First and two little recruits to help him. Or, well, whatever they called those blue things now-a-days. Back when ShinRa fought Wutai they didn't get nifty uniforms… or a lot of pay… or any of the nifty perks they got now; like free food. Being in peace did change quite a few things, though.

The raven-haired man sighed as he leaned heavily against the door of his locked room. Annoyed by how easily his thoughts skewed from his original topic. What was it? Oh yeah… no key…

Another groan accosted the air before him as his raven locks soften the metalloid blows that the door would have given to his head with each gentle thunk. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid Zack!

"Excuse me?" came a soft inquisition, low and smooth, a voice reminiscent of Sephiroth's own. At the question, violet eyes opened, temporarily silencing the repetitive, mental diatribe as the figure before him was revealed.

Rather odd, he was, resembling Sephiroth in a smaller stature, with softer tones to his face and a leaner frame. And though adorned with no easily read ShinRa garb, instead clothed entirely in a black fitting to rival the general's dark-colored fetish, he bore the jade eyes to truly mark him as a member of SOLDIER. Tendrils of silken black found their way to his shoulders, sloppily parted yet still looking strikingly neat – almost like that one Turk, Tseng – as it flowed from his forehead.

A mental chide beseeched him in the voice of his mother: '_Stop staring, it's rude_.'

Zack managed an eyebrow quirk at the strange fellow. "Yes?"

The stranger tilted his head slightly forward, but his jade eyes never left the soldier's own. "I am sorry to interrupt, but I believe I am in the wrong building."

The other raven eyebrow floated up Zack's forehead to meet the first. "Really?" Wow… the boy had fine manners. The man hadn't heard such impeccable politeness since his going away party at Gongaga. And that was what… ten – no, eleven years ago? And he even separated contractions! Sheesh… maybe he was a relative of Sephiroth's, what with all that aristocratic speaking and all. Hey, when the raven-haired soldier had met the general, he spoke as if he didn't know the language of common Midgarians. Now he could cuss with the best of them!

In response to Zack's obvious, well, curiosity, a delicate eyebrow rose in response. Wait… that look was familiar… was he staring too much…? Leering? Oh gods…

The familiar voice of Mamma Chrissy, the next door neighbor, wafted into his ear again: '_you will find yourself in trouble before the day is out when if you keep leering at all those young ladies!' _He had been whooped hard enough by an especially find woman never to stare at them too long again. Of course… this wasn't a lady… it was obviously a man… right? Okay… maybe a _little _effeminate, but so? Zack was too.

The stranger shook his head, as if hearing the chaos occurring in his new acquaintance's mind. "You may return to whatever you were doing if I have the chance to ask for directions from you."

Oh! Directions! Didn't the guy say something about being in the wrong building… oh yeah!!

Zack nodded. "Okey-dokey. Tell me where you need to go." Those jade eyes seemed to breath a slight relief at the words, but the soldier didn't mention it.

Shuffling slightly, the silken-haired man pulled out a piece of paper, one which had obviously been resting in his hand. His gaze flicked downward to it. "The barracks F: 32," came the recited name.

Unconsciously, violet eyes ran up and down the figure of the stranger before him. So slim!! How…? The F building barracksy-thing was reserved for the new SOLDIERS, or the fresh batch of Third Classes. But… it required so much physical power to even be _in_ the SOLDIER program. Was the guy… visiting a lover? No… maybe the last returning from mako injections – those things could go on forever! – and a little lost concerning his whereabouts.

Huh… that sounded strangely familiar.

The raven-haired man shook his head, dislodging his mass of random thought as he looked to the furrowing eyebrow above the gaze of this stranger.

"Do you know of it?" came the voice again, not faltering in the least at the obviously strange antics of the guy he was asking directions from.

A gloved hand briskly waved at the air about it as Zack tried to gesture no worries to his new companion. "Nah, I know it." Violet eyes flicked down the hall's empty corridor before sliding back up to those jade ones. He didn't have much else to do until the patrol came around to take him away… "I can take you there, if you want."

Raven eyebrows shot up slightly, but the jade eyes clearly held some sort of sympathetic notion. "I assume you are unable to enter your apartment?"

Zack felt his face stretch with surprise by his observant new friend. That is, before he broke off into chuckles, shaking his head at the man who stood before him.

"You assume correct," came the SOLDIER First's response as he attempted to control his soft laughter. "So…" Zack began, feeling the beginnings of a deal creep up on him. "Could I maybe crash at your place until I can figure out exactly where my evil hands went and hid my key?" Well… he forgot the other half of the deal, but it was pretty much self-explanatory. Ask for directions, get led to ShinRa-esc quarters, sleep with a total stranger in your room… okay, that wouldn't be the best of ideas to do, but the recently dumped man hoped that it would be okay.

And apparently, by the soft tugging of a smile on those pale lips and the glittering of amusement in those jade eyes, it would be. "I expect a restful night and accurate guiding in return," was the genteel response, laden with gentle undertones of what might have been a laugh.

Zack felt himself smile widely at the words. "Well, then," he began, pushing away from the door to his cold apartment and turning to the looming corridor's end. "Shall we be going?"

The quick nod from his new companion said enough. And, as the raven-haired SOLDIER First smiled wider, looking behind him to see his acquaintance, the familiar reds of two running forms were spotted by his violet eyes. Zack could feel the color drain from his face as the patrol dashed toward them, dart guns at ready in their arms. The stranger looked back over his shoulder, rather eloquently at that, and quirked a raven eyebrow, apparently not understanding the severity of the situation.

Again, though, Zack was _not_ in the mood to run like a dragon was nipping at his boots. Nor was he ready to argue… wasn't this turning out to be just a wonderful day? Ugh… all he could say was – was –

"… fuck…"

**A/N: **Yay for Lucy! My single and only reviewer! Woo!! Moving on, I've decided to mess around with the weird writing of Zackness… because, well, Zack is strange. Perpetually riddled with bad luck, he becomes angst ridden when all hope is lost. But, when he's alone and has time to wallow in his sorrows, he gets distracted… very easily… anyway, I adore reviews and stuff like that. And I really need a review(sssss) to keep this story alive. Well… not really, but we all like to be selfish like that. So just go review, please and spare everyone my author note drabble!


	3. Subtle Reprimanding

.::Subtle Reprimanding::.

In an awkward, but consensual silence, the two figures sat side by side upon the cold, hard plastic, deaf to the complaints of dread that surrounded them. One of them slumped in his seat, raven locks half obscuring his face as they fell forward in a tangled mass. The other, pristine and sharp, looked down upon his companion with a quirked brow, as if not understanding what was exactly occurring.

Zack, on the other hand, knew exactly what was about to happen. Every muscle in his body was taunt with worry, hoping and praying that it wouldn't come true. He hoped that suspension wasn't looming over his head, prayed that the Nibelheim mission would still fall into his hands, and, above all, desperately wished that things would go his way for once.

Really, was it that much to ask for?

An irate sigh escaped the lips of the SOLDIER First as his violet gaze flicked back up to the clock on the wall, the object blearily announcing the time as oh-one-oh-two in an annoyed red sheen. Other members of the military were looking as equally grim and haggard as the man felt beneath the metallic glow of the timepiece, ranging from wide-eyed blue-clad recruits to drunken SOLDIER Firsts fresh from the bars. And then, of course, there was the stoic stranger sitting next to Zack.

"Is something the matter?" came the question from the already familiar voice of the SOLDIER Third. The taller of them pushed himself up in his seat as his violet eyes looked to the other in bewilderment. Zack hoped he was giving his best 'you've got to be joking me' stare right now.

But the jade gaze met him straight on, unblinking and indifferent to the silent messages his new acquaintance was trying to send via telekinesis. Those eyes were unyielding to Zack's own and oblivious to the trouble both of the men had fallen into.

The raven-haired man sighed, attempting to calmly redirect his irritation from his new friend's utter obliviousness at their surroundings and to the situation itself. His mind, and body, weren't in a good enough state to mock happiness; so he neither pulled out his dazzling smile or spoke a word in response.

All he did was grunt at the question, finally giving up their staring contest to resume his glaring at the clock. Look, it was oh-one-oh-four now. Goody.

He might be able to make the orientation meeting that was in less than seven hours away if he didn't sleep tonight. The idea was rather pleasing, given all the nightmares and perpetual half-dazed state he already sauntered through the days in.

"Has anyone ever told you that looking into the face of annoyance makes it only grin back at you?" spoke the unnamed man beside him. Violet eyes didn't spare him a glance as they remained transfixed on the clock's obstinate hour timer, as if willing time to move back with each glare he gave it.

Nightmares be damned into the bowels of Hades' pot of virulent potion; Zack was tired. He needed sleep. And more than a few hours of it.

Another grunt was his response to the rather philosophical comment made by his new friend as the raven-haired SOLDIER First slumped in his seat again. He would not be able to take much more of this waiting stuff. Zack swore he had seen starcharts and maps of the skies when he last when into one of those rooms, and could only guess that the patrol needed to 'have the stars in alignment,' or something to that extent, in order to adequately dish out punishment to their captured military soldiers. Because, in the raven-haired man's mind, the patrol needed more than their little dart guns to deal with an especially angry SOLDIER First… or Second… or Third… anyone really. These men didn't exactly choose patrol duty, and were just little recruits shoved into big bad red suits and adorned with guns.

And, almost every time he was brought to this station by those patrol officers, he felt sorry for them. But, then again, Zack was always here, it seemed, so he began to feel a little less sorry for the little red-clad forms after they shot him continuously in the back as hulking SOLDIER Firsts found it fitting to smash their puny little weapons. Or whatever those guys took to doing in the back rooms.

A sigh, albeit soft, revealed the stranger's despair at his new companion's obvious unhappiness from beside him. Or maybe, it was just because the SOLDIER First wasn't speaking to him, only replying with those brainless grunts instead of coherent words. Either way, it was rather clear that their friendship, no less than maybe thirty minutes old, was already traversing across rocky roads.

Zack's musings trailed off as a throat cleared itself before him, effectively silencing the faint whispers of complaints that had inhabited the air earlier. The violet gaze traveled to the two forms in red, one carrying a paper and the other one of those infernal dart guns.

Apparently, the patrol was to announce their first victim, compliments of the ShinRa military archives photo identification crosschecking system. Boo to whoever made that thing.

The red-garbed officer spoke, and all waited for the name the prayed wasn't theirs. "Mister Sireen Farmer, you are to follow me."

Sireen? Mr. Farmer? Zack's gaze glanced about the room, finding the other men, those not so drunk and those still awake, doing the same. His little breath of relief was stifled by his interest in this new person. Boy, he wanted to be friends with a guy who had a weirder name than him! Well, that's exactly why Zack had changed his name in the first place, but that wasn't the point. The SOLDIER First was incredibly curious at the moment, and glanced around at the faces surrounding him again.

Who exactly was this Sireen Farmer person?

From beside him, the silken-haired stranger shook his head, drawing violet eyes back to his form. "Excuse me officers," came his voice, earning the annoyed gaze of the two men. "But I highly doubt that you will find anyone by that name within these facilities."

The raven-haired man raised his eyebrows at his new companion, wondering if the guy really wanted a date with bowels of unconsciousness. Or maybe he just more observant than bright.

The man with the paper scowled at Zack's companion. "How exactly would you know?" came the sneer as the gun cocked behind him, aiming for the SOLDIER Third.

The stranger made a show of shaking his head again, though it was much more subtler than before. "I assume it merely because no one claims that name."

Now the patrol officer glared. "Really?" he offered sarcastically, waving his hand about the gathered men in the waiting room. "Maybe it is because half these drunken bastards can't even remember their own name."

The SOLDIER First's new, temporary roommate simply sighed. "I also state as such because I presume you are to mean Syrius Forrester, not Sireen Farmer." he replied, voice a tad deadpan. Zack's eyebrows raised higher, if at all possible. What was this boy getting himself into?

The glower in the blue eyes of the red-clad man didn't abate, only grew fiercer. The officer behind the other warily fiddled with the safety on his dart gun, apparently disliking the short temper before him as much as Zack did. "Oh, really?" was the remark, still snide and fuming.

"Yes." responded the voice, though still without a hint of anger, from beside the newly made First Class SOLDIER. Once more, those raven locks tilted slightly forward, an action Zack linked maybe with a restrained annoyance – similar to when the boy was asking for directions from him. Or maybe it would be better classified as assertiveness…?

"Tell me," the stranger began again, seemingly in a staring match with the patrol officer, Zack remembering how those jade eyes locked with his own through their whole conversation, trailing away but once… did the patrol count in that?

The man's voice cut through his thoughts once more. "Did this Sireen Farmer obstinately refuse mako treatments after finishing the qualifying exams, and thus has an nigh infinite amount of demerits at his disposal?" Oh? If there was anywhere for Zack's eyebrows to go, he was sure they would go higher as his face stretched with surprise. Not only did this Sireen fellow seem more than rather interesting, but this stranger seemed to know an awful about him.

For a moment, the officer seemed to stutter, blanching a bit, but quickly recovered as he glared once more. "And how would _you_ know such a thing?" the man spat, the words virulent. Yeah, Zack mentally chided at his acquaintance. How'd you know?

There was a short silence and neither man moved. The group of military men, the SOLDIER First noticed, were watching with avid interest, yet still with that spark of fear. That was before his violet eyes swept back to his new friend as he spoke once more.

"Because I was specifically told by Hojo himself that if I were to refuse any more mako treatments he would personally see to it the remainder of my ShinRa life would be spent in a cage." … what? Then he… was…? Zack could feel his brow furrow, and noticed the officers' confusion as well. This stranger was Sireen? "And if I am to indeed live in a cage," continued the silken-haired man, unmindful of the befuddlement he had just caused. "I would prefer if my name was documented correctly in ShinRa files."

Documented correctly…? Wait a second! That must mean he's…

"So," came a somewhat timid voice of the officer holding the dart gun. "You are Sireen Farmer…?" Exactly! Zack knew it!

Rather curtly, Zack's friend nodded. "And for future reference," the SOLDIER Third added. "My name is Syrius Forrester." The raven-haired man felt his eyebrows jump to meet his hairline again. Syrius Forrester, eh?

Zack watched as Syrius stood, walking to the two patrol officers. The patrolmen, realizing that they had just found the first of their many victims of torture for the night, quickly motioned for the SOLDIER Third to follow them before the two disappeared around the corner.

Looking back to the SOLDIER First, those jade eyes met violet before the silken-haired man gave a slight nod. What might have been considered a temporary farewell given the situation received no response as the boy drifted after the other men, allowing not even a word to pass between their two forms.

It reminded Zack, almost eerily so, of the time when Sephiroth had left to deal with the general state of emergency that was everything to do with ShinRa, and had offered him only such a goodbye as that.

Syrius…

A smile grew on the SOLDIER First's lips at the thought of his new companion. This may have been the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

That is, returned the bleary thought, until the patrol officer called out his name to enter their damned offices.

- - -

Zack leaned uneasily against the wall as he awaited the arrival of his new companion. The patrol had offered him no answer nor given him a punishment, declaring the general need give overview to the situation at hand, before shoving him from the hall marking the patrol officers' preferred sanctuary. And, after what had happened earlier this very night – or rather late yesterday evening – the SOLDIER First doubted Sephiroth would allow him to go onto the Nibelheim mission. Scratch that. Especially after that incident.

The door beside the raven-haired man opened, and a violet gaze blearily looked to the evicting victim of the patrol. Glazed jade eyes, ruffled brown hair, and a mussed uniform could only belong to a certain SOLDIER Second.

Sighing, Zack turned his gaze back to the wall before him as the drunken man stumbled over, willing the newcomer of the hall to leave. The fact of the matter being that the raven-haired man loved him as if he were the brother he wished he had once had didn't seem to make matters better. Maybe that was why his silent prayers were half-hearted.

"Yo, Zack," came the slurred voice, a hand clamping down on his shoulder. "Where'd ya' go?" the SOLDIER Second hiccupped over his own words, giggling a little too much at the unexpected movement of his diaphram. He was referring to the congratulation party Zack would have gone to if a certain silver-haired general hadn't been the only person on his thoughts… wished he would have gotten drunk instead…

Shaking his head, the younger looked to his fellow military drone. "Nick, we'll talk when you're sober."

As the brown-haired soldier leaned more heavily against his friend, breathing warm, liquor coated breath on the awaiting cheek, the younger felt his violet gaze drift away from the jaded blues. "Aw, but man," he rebuked through a hiccup, smile plastering his face. "I met this- this really sexy blonde." A fit of giggles overwhelmed Nick as he began to slide down from Zack's shoulder, laughing as he met the floor.

The gurgles of drunken joviality continued to meet the SOLDIER First's ears, and he couldn't help but think how annoying it was to get drunk. On second thought, it was better that Sephiroth had kicked him out and declared him, essentially, a lover no more. Feeling depressed and sulking in bed was better than a hangover any day. Maybe not for a week straight, but, it was preferred… maybe?

Zack sighed, hauling Nick to his feet with one fell swoop of his arm. And as he softly patted the back of his still hiccupping and giggling companion, his violet gaze looked up to find a familiar jade on gazing back to him.

With one delicate eyebrow bemusedly cocked, the SOLDIER Third, Syrius, stood in silence before the duo. The rest of his face was wrapped up in the stoicacy that revealed none of his emotions. Even though his head was cocked slightly to the side…

"Should I be concerned?" was his question, referring to the SOLDIER Second clutching his stomach in drunken hysterics. Or maybe the end result of Zack's punishment it was the end result of Zack's punishment…? Either way, the raven-haired man offered his temporary roommate a shrug.

But the auburn-haired man spoke in response to the inqusition. "Oh, I sees," he hiccupped, pushing away from Zack's balancing arms. A finger waved back and forth across the hall, pointing between both raven-haired men. "This is where ya' was," the slurred words were spoken with a drunken smile. "I'll just leave ya' be then." Nick giggled again, but began sauntering away, an unfamiliar jodie on his lips as he went.

Jade eyes watched inquisitively as the intoxicated man strode away, leaving Syrius with Zack, as the taller of them watched the other's unmoving gaze.

With a curt shake of his head, as if to move his eyes from the disappearing figure, the silken-haired boy returned his gaze to that of violet. "Should we be leaving then?" he queried the other.

Rather blearily Zack nodded. "Lead on."

Syrius's brow furrowed at the words. "Are you not supposed to be leading…?"

Oh yeah! The SOLDIER First chuckled softly as he shook his raven head. Forgot about that. "Sorry," Zack offered, before turning to the hallway before them.

In silence, the two began the long walk to the SOLDIER Third barracks. And, despite the uneasiness, despite the nightmares, despite the sleep-deprivation, and even despite the coil of despair still tugging at his heart, Zack felt at ease.

How… strange…

**A/N: **Oof. I just wanted this chapter out and done with, not very proud. It kept getting in my way. But – herein hath entered Syrius! Woo! Finally. Thanks to my reviewer, Corn Cob! Woo again! And now, a disclaimer, because I forgot one the other two chapters…

**Disclaimer: **Squaresoft owns the original FFVII game and I have had no hand at it, other than playing its sexy awesomeness.


	4. A Soldier's Dwelling

.::A Soldier's Dwelling::.

As the door finally opened, a wave of stale air came to meet the awaiting nostrils. It was putrid, sickening, and… ugh! What was this, a toilet??

Against the disgusting odor, Zack covered his mouth, feeling ill. His violet gaze traveled over and noticed a gloved hand covering the Syrius's nostrils with its back, eyes narrowing. As if that would dissipate the burning sensations and tearing brought on by this vile scent!

"Ugh," the SOLDIER First said through his hand, tearing jade gaze meeting his own. "I don't think they like you much."

The silken-haired boy nodded his assent before slipping into the room. Zack could feel himself blanch at the thought of entering the very room that wafted such undeniably _vile _odors, but found himself following the shorter man in anyway.

The dying light flickered on, illuminating the room with its weak luminescence. The visiting occupant felt his face scrunch up at the sight of the room before him, Syrius undoubtedly doing the same.

Such a scene matched the odor to the tee, accompanied by the empty bottles of beer and discarded toys of sexual play. Both of the two beds were misshapen and stained with the most atrocious bodily fluids. The half closed cabinet revealed items of an even more repulsive nature, but Zack didn't even want to _look_ anymore.

With a shake of his head, Syrius turned around to face the disgusted form of his temporary roommate. "Would you willingly partake in use of sleeping arrangements such as these?" The poor boy, hand still glued to his nostrils, looked ashen against his silken, raven tresses. In fact, he looked as ill as Zack felt.

The SOLDIER First shook his head in agreement. "Not even if I were about to collapse from exhaustion." Which, even though he nearly was, Zack was continuously brought back to a waking state by a random pile of… ugh... in his line of vision. He shuddered slightly.

Nodding, Syrius strode past him and out of the door. Zack bolted after. And as the metalloid gate to what must have been the home of the Devil's Nose fell shut, the two let down their hands and greedily took in the stale air that was the ShinRa building and the perpetual pollution it expelled.

After a few moments, the SOLDIER Third spoke again. "Now," the violet gaze, glazed with the ecstasy of breathing good air, turned to his companion. Those jade eyes were looking at him, glinting slightly with a deep annoyance and slight rage, yet seemed to look past him. As if Syrius was directing his rage to the seemingly endless hall. "I believe you mentioned there being a bathroom nearby?"

For a moment, Zack looked at his companion perplexidly. That is, before his eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead. "Please tell me you're not actually going to…?" he gestured to the closed door in haste and disgust.

The silken-haired solider only nodded at the unfinished question, ignoring the sudden pallor of his temporary roommate's otherwise tan features. "It is the only way for these sleeping arrangements to work accordingly."

Gulping, for lack of better wording, Zack stared into those jade eyes. A bile seemed to rise within him, but he tried to push it down. He knew, of course, that Syrius was completely, and undoubtedly… correct.

- - -

Successful in their raiding of the janitor's closet and the bathroom's sinks, the duo stood now before the doorway once more. The buckets, mops, and black bags draped over their arms and clutched in their hands as they regarded the entryway nervously.

"So," Zack began, breaking the silence. Syrius glanced over at him from beneath his silken locks, which had somehow found themselves covering his face during the journey to return to the quarters. "How exactly are we going to do this?"

The boy shook his head a bit, clearing the hair from his eyes, before responding. "To be succinct, start from the entrance and work our way inward."

The SOLDIER First nodded in acquiescence. They had to do this, one way or the other. And Zack wasn't too keen on sleeping in the hall… or another man's… feces? Ugh… he didn't want to examine it and find out if it was just chocolate. No, he didn't want to touch it. He doubted Syrius did either, but they _had_ to.

"We should take off our clothing…" came a murmur from beside him, contemplative.

Rather shocked at the sudden words, the raven-haired man felt himself edge away from the other. "Excuse me?" he asked, rather unnerved by the prospect of well… anything with this boy. Aside from the fact of what they were about to face and possibly a friendship with him, the SOLDIER First wanted nothing to do with him. Because, after all, he was a _boy_! A fresh new SOLDIER Third new on the field, effeminate but forceful, and starting off his 'official' life at ShinRa in one of the worst possible ways! And, besides that – Zack had just been thrown out of his lover's life. For good!

Jade eyes turned to those of violet, brow furrowed slightly. Syrius shook his head slightly, apparently sensing, once more, the chaos of his companion's thoughts. "I was merely referring to the fact that these will probably be the only change of clothes we will own for a while yet, seeing as you have no key and I have not received a uniform."

Blinking for just a moment, Zack felt himself grow an ashamed red. "Oh," was all he could offer as his silken-haired companion began setting down their acquired items. Sighing softly, the SOLDIER First began to do the same. When finally the items that would aid in the disgusting room's cleansing, the raven-haired man turned to face Syrius, only to gawk at the sight before him.

Apparently wasting no time, the SOLDIER Third had begun removing the black top that covered the entirety of his arms, neck, and torso. Violet eyes were unmoving, despite the wrongness their owner felt, as ashen skin revealed itself beneath the heavy folds. Lean and thin, almost invisible muscles rippled as the shirt was pulled over the genteel head. And, as raven locks were temporarily swept upward in the pull of the clothing, two long and slender scars made themselves known across his back, dark and obtrusive against his otherwise unmarred skin. And even as Zack's eyes traveled up their forms, straight and thick, parallel as they drove drown the pale back, black tresses fell across them, once more hiding away the strange scars.

Shaking his head, the SOLDIER First looked away from the other as the shirt was neatly folded by those elegant, and still gloved, hands. But, his thoughts kept returning to those mysterious marks along the pallor back, even as he himself discarded his clothing.

Zack had never seen anything like them before… not once in all his years of life… maybe Lawrence would know?

A curt shake of his head pushed away the thought, even as he stood, shaking away the bulky pants from his foot. Why would he ever go to that deranged madman who called himself a doctor, dreaming to be Hojo's apprentice? Damn, that bastard he called a brother.

The raven-haired man glared inwardly at the sneering face of his twin, before shutting off that portion of his mind and returning his violet gaze to Syrius. Once more though, he was met by a rather bemusing sight. And it wasn't just because the pale, effeminate, slender, and genteel form that stood now with only black-shorts, reaching to his knees, hiding personal dignity. Of course, that _did_ help a bit, but…

The _real_ eye-catcher was the removal of a golden ring from a certain finger on an eloquent left hand. And though the SOLDIER Third had his back to the older, Zack could practically see the jade eyes contemplative stare unto the halo that marked marriage.

And, in return, a raven-eyebrow quirked.

"Married?" Zack asked, curiosity outweighing what little common courtesy he had to his new roommate. The soft cliché, reprimanding of his father drifted through the man's thoughts, '_Curiosity killed the cat, son. So don't let your mind wander too far._' He ignored it.

At the sudden question, though, Syrius turned his head, jade eyes meeting violet, once more, through a light veil of raven strands. Their pools of endless green were emotionless, apathetic in their stare unto purple. The silken-haired man turned away, crouching down as he placed the object into the neat pile that was his black outfit.

The cold shoulder…? Maybe the SOLDIER First shouldn't have asked… touching on a too personal topic for their budding friendship.

Standing, the boy turned back to face Zack, eyes guarded, disrupting the older's thoughts. A simple reply was all he received, curt and to the point, to the curious question that had been so callously asked. "Yes." And the way Syrius spoke, postured himself and eluded whatever probing eyes dared look into his secrets, was so eerily similar to Sephiroth that the raven-haired man had to force his gaze away.

He could practically feel the cold words that the general spoke, voice laced with a tested patience. And he could recall, the low hiss that marked the end of their liaison… "_Because I know this you have to leave."_

Despite the strong urge to, the SOLDIER First didn't shake his head against the reverberating thought. Those virulent words that slithered across his mind with a sharp pang and awakening, once more, that strange clawing of fear within him. Instead, he focused on the multiple objects that lay scattered about the floor.

"Well," Zack began, violet eyes glancing back to the silken-haired boy as his tan gestured to the various cleaning supplies. "Shall we begin?"

Something flickered behind the jade gaze. It was a strange emotion, something between the vestiges of guarded apathy, swelling relief, and a hint of dread. But, the invisible walls faltered, and the man could practically see the mental barriers that had suddenly been summoned dissipate within the features of the pale face.

In return, the raven-haired man smiled. And even though those coils of dread and fear still lingered in the pits of Zack's stomach, he could feel their strength lessen at the returning demeanor of his newly befriended companion. All the while, though, he made a mental note not to mention personal relationships when around the SOLDIER Third.

Which, in regards to himself, the SOLDIER First could easily find himself complying.

A somewhat hesitant nod gave assent to begin their quest… _disgusting_ as it may have been, before elegantly bending down to claim the key to the gates of Nose Hell and the items that would result in its banishment back to the garbage cans from Sector Three. Now those could give even this room a run for its, well… repulsiveness.

With a deep breath, Zack waited as Syrius, once more, opened the door.

- - -

Well, in reality, that wasn't too bad. Nope, not too bad.

Of course, Zack meant the actual finished product. _Not _the task. _That_ would be giving him a new set of nightmares, for sure. It rivaled the reoccurring dream where the blue-clad recruits killed him. And _that_ was a scary nightmare.

Oh, but _that_…

They would never talk of this day, their first meeting, again.

He was sure of it.

Syrius stood, staring up at the raven-haired man, brow arched ever the slightest. His jade gaze glimmered slightly with the haze of exhaustion and gentle mist of relief, but his otherwise stoic features revealed naught of this. And though they stood in the large, empty shower at oh-five-fourty-three, neither of them had remembered to take their clothes in the made dash to rid themselves of the… ugh…

Stuff from _that_.

Zack bet even Turks would get nightmares from _that_. No – even Sephiroth would get nightmares from _that. _Total, complete, obsessive-compulsive disorder, neat-freak that he was, he wouldn't be able to come out of the shower for a week!

Well, the SOLDIER First couldn't swat away the idea for what it was. The fact being that he himself wanted to do that. Of course, for the silken-haired man, slightly damp with a towel wrapped about his waist, the idea was left to speculation. Complete speculation. In fact, the boy didn't even seem to mind.

For a short moment, Zack recalled the ill tint to pallor skin when they were dredging away that… stuff, and disregarded the suggestion. Who, in their right mind, wouldn't mind? The thought sent the raven-haired man's mind into a maze of speculation, eagerly filing through that cabinet of faces that was sufficiently stocked in the back of his brain, back where all the useless information seemed to lodge itself instead of the important stuff. But he shook his head, not wanting to think about the now, and forever, dead Nose Hell.

Never, ever, _ever_ again.

"Are you coming?" came the question from the SOLDIER Third's voice, and Zack looked at him for a moment. Somehow, being lost in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed when the silken-haired boy traversed the empty rows of open lockers to peek out the metalloid entrance. And now, Syrius stood, looking over his shoulder, with one hand on the door and another holding the towel around his slim waist.

Seeing the toweled form brought back the sad realization: that they had, for the moment, no clothes. The underwear they had worn during cleaning was properly disposed of… in a random locker Zack had shoved them in when Syrius wasn't looking. (he really didn't want to go off and find a trashcan after doing what they had done… especially after filling up the two dumpsters they had found) And now they were adorned with only miniscule clothes to hide their dignity.

Of course, the two had managed to grab more than just an angry glare from the hall clock when they ran by the closed gateway that once marked Nose Hell. Syrius had snagged his ring and necklace – the SOLDIER First hadn't even noticed it while voyeuristically watching the younger undress - while Zack had pulled up his dog tags in grimy, disgusting, … ugh-covered hands and over his head.

Yeah… he really shouldn't have done that… it wasn't smart, not in the least.

But, the lack of sleep was beginning to get to him, and impairing his, as many had said, already impaired judgment. It really wasn't his fault then, right?

The raven-haired man shrugged off his thoughts, not wanting to go there right now. And, knowing that no sleep awaited him now, Zack really wanted to be back in clothes. It was just a bad feeling he had, walking around ShinRa with only a towel. Yeah… no.

He still hadn't graced Syrius with a response, and didn't. But, that was because the boy was practically only 'in' the room by the pale foot holding the entrance open. Zack grinned and headed for the door, even as it began to close, the pale toes disappearing. And soon, the man forcefully opened the entryway to the showers and walked forward with a rather overly jovial step. Yet…

When he found that he met the very soft skinned back of the SOLDIER-Third, a little more than slightly tense, his smile faded.

The blue-eyed patrol officer, no longer holding a paper but a dart gun, said nothing as he glared unto the duo.

**A/N: **I hope I'm not testing the limits of the T rating with this… Anyway, I got **two** whole reviews last chapter. That made me sooo happy. Woo! Thanks to you guys and those others who are supporting me in private (if there are any…). I luff you all!


	5. Words of Truth

.::Words of Truth::.

Once more, two figures sat in silence. Their eyes watched the clock, ticking away the minutes in its malignant red glow, seemingly bearing down true doom onto them. Apparently, such a fate came the form of numbers: oh, eight, twenty, nine; the men's bedraggled faces slumping with each change of numerals on the timepiece.

And now Zack, violet eyes forlornly looked to his companion. The jade gaze stared at the clock, unreadable at the angle from which it was perceived, as pale fingers interlocked with themselves, golden ring of marriage glowing slightly in the electrical lights. But, more to the point, Syrius had yet to speak a word. Ever since the patrol had led them back to the infernal waiting room, the silken-haired man had seemed oddly contemplative, not that he didn't seem to be as such before, just now it was, rather worrisome.

After all, the boy had been here before, about seven hours earlier, when the mystery of his name had been revealed. And, given the brief look into the SOLDIER Third's disciplinary record, the raven-haired man could only sympathize with whatever punishment surely loomed over his head. After all, denying Hojo was not something anyone should privy themselves to doing; especially when said person was in the SOLDIER program. But, nonetheless, Syrius had seen fit, for whatever reason that lingered behind jade eyes, to refuse submission to the mad scientist's torture. Had Zack's parents not direly needed the income, he would have refused as well.

But, of course, rejecting the right for his loving family to live would not rest lightly on his moral conscious. The general's former lover only hoped that the boy knew what he was, and had, gotten himself into…

No, he _prayed_.

And all the while, Zack shifted in his seat, throwing glances at his companion in hopes of catching those jade eyes in his violet ones again, to start another conversation in their budding relationship. But, despite all the groans of the plastic chair and insistent ruffling of clothing, Syrius didn't once spare SOLDIER First so much a glimpse, gaze locked solely on the silently ticking clock.

The Raven-haired man almost wanted to sigh in defeat, _almost_. But, he didn't, merely slumping back into the hard chair beneath him, bare hand oddly fiddling with the dog tags above his shirt whilst his violet eyes studied both the timepiece and its watcher. Beneath the baggy clothing that had been offered by the glaring patrolman, the waves of tension were practically visible as they wriggled through the flesh of youth and wound themselves into a coil of apprehensive thought. Zack could see the small muscle of Syrius's jaw from this position, tightening and releasing itself, the only physical sign of what must have been nervousness.

… in a way so much like Sephiroth it was frightening… each little quirk was in almost the exact same place, after those mental barriers resurrected themselves from beneath jade eyes. The SOLDIER First was beginning to expect a seven-foot sword to coalesce within elegant hands and begin dueling with the phantom enemies that only the mind's eye could see.

But, Zack pushed the strange similarities aside, as well as the thoughts that came with them, as a figure strode into view. This red clad figure, blue eyes still adorned in the steely hatred of a glare, stood there, in the doorway to the conjoining office, with a rifle at ready. Though, through the haze of musings that still clung to the raven-haired man, he wasn't sure if it was loaded with real bullets…

Just barely, the shiver was suppressed as he recalled the dream, barrel of an undefined gun aiming for his eyes, looking down on him with the intention of death. And the bullets that would drive it.

"Zachary Knightblade and Syrius Forrester," came the patrolman's virulent tone, somewhat mocking through even the rage. It sliced through the recollection, the once before acquainted voice, as two raven-heads looked towards to the now smirking face of the man who held their futures in his hands. With the duo's eyes now on him, the man gestured to the office behind him. "The general will see you now."

There was stillness for a moment, and something built within Zack.

There was the coiling of fear, dread, misery, clawing and numbing the innermost portions of his flesh, stealing his breath. And there was the soft flutter, the gentle caress that was of weightlessness, that feeling of rapid heartbeats that accompanied the too familiar hands of love. And, coating it all, was the apathy of despair. It didn't numb, and it didn't outweigh, it was just there, lying heavy on shoulders, as if the taste of defeat.

Struggling to withhold the pull of emotions that swirled within him, violet eyes barely registered the form beside him elegantly pulling itself up onto booted feet. Rather instinctively, his own thick frame follower suit, even as its inner self reeled with the contradictory emotions at the prospect of seeing the man he still loved.

Somewhat unseeing, the SOLDIER First followed after both the patrol officer and the silken-haired SOLDIER Third. Such feelings had never before sought him out, despite all the sex that had occurred in his earthly years of life, and violet eyes darted across the walls, as if seeing the emotions laying before him on their white-washed surfaces. But they weren't there, those of the cluttered blackness that convulsed within Zack, instead only the random fingerprints that marked ShinRa's warriors intruding on their vertical domain.

All too soon, the trio stopped, and a door lay closed before them. The raven-haired man felt himself grow ill at the sight of the door, at the thought of he who lay behind it. It wasn't so much the creeping dread that engulfed him, it was more the conflicting emotions crescendo into a fortissimo within him, raging and tearing at his confused mind, that caused the sudden sensation of blanching and queasiness. It had suddenly become too hot and too cold, the walls too close and the floor too far.

The door before them opened, and the rather irate man gestured them through, but Zack didn't really notice it. What he noticed, from behind the shorter form of Syrius, was the man behind a metalloid desk, chin resting on interlocked fingers, as jaded feline eyes regarded them with a cold annoyance.

Those eyes…

A shiver nearly broke its way through the SOLDIER First's skin at seeing that gaze on him again. His mind distorted, revealing the wide pupils that concealed the glowing agates of irises in Sephiroth's eyes as silver locks veiled the shadowy room, hands gently holding to tan skin as warmth began to fill the younger even as the soft call of his name reached the ears that thrummed still with the pounding of his heart…

An angry growl from beside him alerted the raven-haired man of the patrolman's presence, even as the SOLDIER Third slipped into the room before him. The images of last night slowly faded as those once loving eyes locked with violet, an icy aloofness, coupled with nigh apathetic annoyance, and the words sliced through all memory of joy.

"…_you must leave._"

Numbly, booted feet walked forward in borrowed shoes, following Syrius as the door closed behind them. The virulent words slithered across Zack's mind, skittering away rational thought and whatever emotions that should have been held by them. Back rigid, muscles tense, the raven-haired man offered his salute, unable to keep the faint tremble from his arm.

Eyes of slitted agate regarded the two saluting forms coldly before losing themselves beneath pale eyelids, silver brows gently furrowing. A look of contemplation and irritation, brought on by the underlings who could do nothing but ruin whatever peace that had been haphazardly coated the lands after Wutai. The SOLDIER First recognized it easily.

Elegantly, as were all movements, Sephiroth let down his leather-clad hands to the papers resting in the folders before him. His jade gaze had followed them to the text that lay upon the disciplinary documents, as if deciding now what punishment would befall them each.

The general made a small gesture with a hand, almost absently, to them. "At ease," he called dismissively.

The saluting hand found its way to Zack's side, but he was too petrified to move, to feign some sort of calmness in the presence of his ex-lover. Whether it was from the turbulence of emotions that welled within him, the events of the past twelve hours, or the fact that Sephiroth now had every right to discharge him from SOLDIER, the army, and the Nibelheim mission in its entirety.

Oh, gods… his knees were shaking again. Accursed limbs! Never even working right! And his vision…? Gods, the man hoped his eyes weren't glistening with the tears that prickled his sight.

"Syrius Forrester?" was the inquisition, feline eyes now looking up to the duo. The jades passed over Zack quickly, but that didn't stop his lip from trembling the slightest. He bit it in silence. The next moment he got, the SOLDIER First was going to commit suicide, that would teach his body to mess with him – shaking and trembling and all that nonsense.

"Sir." the response from the SOLIDER Third was unemotional, the usual seemingly shouted tone that all military men called out to superiors. The raven-haired man only hoped he could keep the quiver from his own voice when he was addressed.

From beneath those beauteous silver tresses, the general's jade eyes narrowed at the boy, scrutinizing him in that familiar way as his nostrils flared ever the slightest, as if a predator finding the scent of its prey. Zack remember when he told Sephiroth that in his office… laughter, _laughter_, had been his only response.

A gloved hand shifted the papers beneath it, pushing one forward slightly, the soft sound breaking his reverie. "This report states that you have disobeyed direct orders from all superiors who are, as quoted by you from Sergeant Nickles, 'those without combative experience.'" The jade eyes never glanced away from the slender-framed boy, and Zack's own violet gaze found itself looking his companion. Disobeyed orders? Without combative experience? Syrius… the raven brow on tan skin furrowed. It seems he would need to pray harder next time he feared for someone's life…

"Is this true?" came the general's inquisition. Beyond silken black locks, not even pale skin could be seen, for the youth still stood before the other. Unreadable, unknown, a mystery beneath elusive, yet unyielding, barriers once more.

The silken head nodded in assent. "Yes, sir." And the SOLDIER First wasn't sure if an answer such as that would lead to further condemning or quicker appeasement.

Zack's gaze returned to the general, unable to see Syrius's own, and was in time to watch as the subtle clouds of irritation began to grow over a silver head. Jade eyes slipped shut as a slender brow twitched the slightest. The general's hand lifted, motioning for someone, though the raven-haired man knew naught of who.

"I see…" was the reply from that heady baritone voice, even as a blue clad figure came forward. Gray eyes regarded the others with a guarded aloofness, even as the Wutaian jewel glittered above sleek raven eyebrows, dangerously near the smooth and silken hairline. Hands were hidden behind the back of a crisp blue suit as the man stood before them.

The raven-haired man felt his body both stiffen and shake at the sight of the new arrival: Tseng of the Turks. From what little he knew, the man was to be avoided at all costs.

Yet, why was he… here?

Sephiroth continued quickly, easily conjuring a palpable discipline for the young boy before him. "Forrester," alluring jade eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, "you are to accompany Tseng with no questions and no rebuttals, following all of his instructions." Pale lips pursed. "Is that clear?"

Oh gods… Syrius… Zack felt the rumors of murder wafting up through his brain, screaming at his nerve endings to force the general to reconsider, hold his companion down, and bum rush the Turk all at the same time. As one of those taking down all of ShinRa's traitors, all of their deserters, all of those who dared to compete, the Wutaian man seemed fitting of killing the SOLDIERs before him with merely his stare.

A small shudder nearly wracked the raven-haired man's body at the remembrance of those gray eyes, so similar to Tseng's own, staring down at him, sword poised to kill, as Zack had lain to a hapless fate by way of ambush, his compatriots falling to death much sooner than he himself had. That gaze had stolen away most of his future with their cold, sadistic gleam, echoing off of the blade that sung with the slaughter of so many and staring into that of violet unrelentingly. The promise of death, whether by sword or bullet…

Eyes quickly steered themselves away from the Wutaian man, returning to that with the jade iris and the feline pupil. A silent prayer reverberated through his thoughts, willing any of the gods, known and unknown, to harbor Syrius within their ubiquitous protection. If only to keep the boy safe… and alive.

"Yes, sir." The words were terse, still yet to reveal any of the emotion beyond the youth's expressionless tone, though quickly snapping the SOLDIER First from his thoughts.

"Good," came the simple reply, offering an offhanded gesture to the SOLDIER Third. At the wave, Tseng turned swiftly and began to leave the room through a door beside the general's borrowed desk. Without another word, the silken-haired soldier followed after the Turk.

Leaving alone a certain man with another.

Zack felt his chest constrict, hard to breath against the sudden impending sob and clawing numbness that grew within him. Yet, whether it was because of Syrius's disappearance with the Wutaian, or because he stood before the lover that had thrown him away just hours before, the raven-haired man didn't know.

Inadvertently, violet eyes locked with jade. The tanned man fought the trembling of his body as Sephiroth scowled.

"You know I hate you. Don't you, Knightblade?"

**A/N: **Oh! Sorry for the wait, just little distractions keeping me away from the script. I kind of rushed it, maybe, but I hope you still enjoy it. And I thank my few reviewers and those still supporting me with their little eyes that are trademarked by only the reader. I have a feeling some are out there, just not where. I luffles on you all anyway!


	6. Fortitude

.: Fortitude :.

There was a moment of complete stillness that enshrouded the room, a thick shawl that drowned the two who stood beneath it. Breathing was forced, uneven, echoing like a gunshot's resounding crack in the most silent of forests, and all the while eyes bore into one another.

This is Sephiroth's attempt at humor. Right?

Throat dry and eyes wide, the raven-haired SOLDIER First clung to that thought, hoping that maybe he hadn't gotten the memo. The man had a macabre sense of comedy that would be impossible to match and a stare that could make even the most improbable of statements seem likely. But, hope was fading fast.

The silence dripped thickly into his closing throat and settled itself tightly into erratic lungs, forcing an uneven breath to pass parting lips. Endless, this moment, with only the soft, monotonous blinking of green eyes to mark the passing of time, and Zack felt himself fear.

It was a fear that clung to him.

Fleetingly, those glowing irises glowed black – the barrel of a gun pointed down into him. It was as if he stared into the face of what future foretold. A part of him was dying inside, shriveling and burning as he continued to stare. The younger's gaze was wavering, blurring with the pain of fresh tears. A strand of silver hair flicked before Sephiroth's eyes, and the perverted vision was destroyed. Yet still, the hollow reflection seemed to be etched in his gaze – a distant echo of a twisted dream.

Zack could stare no longer. The violet eyes looked away, a tanned cheek guiding them far from the horrible vision that had wrought the words still ringing in his ears. Ever a formidable barrier, the black amorphous mass that was the SOLDIER First's hair found its way to peripheral vision, and the pale-skinned man was visible no longer.

The numbness of dread was back, as strong as a hailstorm of bullets or the clean slice of a blade. It writhed in his lungs, boiling his stomach and extending its parasitic touch to his brain. Forced came his breath, more a broken pant than anything, restrained by the anguish that clutched his throat.

Sephiroth wasn't joking.

Mocking him, the white walls were clear of any marks, any stains, any adornments. None of the pictures he himself had watched the general hang were gone, along with the memories of happier times. Somehow, it didn't match the blackness that slithered across his soul – the plain emptiness like that of a virgin. It stung like a stranger inside of him, tearing away at his heart with each thrust, and soiling him for the man he loved to see.

The first tear fell in silence.

Zack could feel his fingers curl at the emotion, the despair that clung to him, and his body tremble at its force. _Hate_… it was such a horribly twisted word… he had never been hated. And to be told by he who had given him such caring praise and words of love was worse than the twisted dream that haunted his waking hours with each thought.

Black spots danced in his wavering vision as the SOLDIER First blinked away the tears that blurred the sheer emptiness of the white wall before him into a mesh of cobblestones in fading light. Barely was he aware that his knees were slowly buckling beneath him, and a choked sob escaped his lips. Tanned fingers that had splayed against the cold tiles of the floor, reached for crying eyes in vain to shield away the suffering they revealed. And soon the face of a broken heart was hidden by trembling hands as the borrowed clothing curled with the body that wore them, until black strands of hair met the ground.

A distant sound registered in sensitive ears, footsteps and the familiar swish of leather. The scent of sword polish and meticulously cleaned skin bared themselves to him, and Zack's heart lurched as the once comforting nuances in a familiar personality now served only to amplify aching misery. Beneath the trembling skin of his fingers, the man squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the silken drops of tears mock him in the graceful glide across his cheeks, only to be obstructed by the trembling of his shivering wrists.

From behind him, an irritated sigh echoed throughout the room, and the footsteps stopped. Biting back the sobs that clung so headily to him, the raven-haired man attempted to listen to the steady breathing of the man who had thrown him out of any chance for love. Another swath of silence washed over them, and the ragged breathing escaping the subordinate's mouth seemed more pervasive than a desperate seagull's squall.

But a voice easily cut through the haphazard silence as easily as the owner's sword had his enemies. Once soothing to hear, now it was like hands wrapping around his throat, forcing his breath into submission at the will of the man who owned still his heart. "Knightblade," came the sweet voice that had loved Zack so; yet, empty of tone and empty of caring, so clearly devoid of life that it was as if death had fallen upon them. His heart fought to keep blood warm and from shudders to rack him. "Your scheduled appointment to meet Professor Hojo at eighteen hundred hours yesterday was missed. Your insubordination shall be given further consideration by your commanding officer only after you have received these injections."

After a moment, the words sunk in, and the SOLDIER First blinked. There were no more words, no more confessions, no anger… simply a command, not even a callous one at that. If Sephiroth continued to breath, it couldn't be heard; and, if he had returned to his desk, then he could not be sensed. It was as if all of his senses had left the youth in that moment and the warm caress of tears barely kept him aware that still he breathed.

Of all the things, that was not what Zack was expecting. From beneath his shaking hands, a ragged breath – so close to a sob, yet swallowed back down with the rest of his despair – violet eyes slowly peeked out. The callused fingers slowly pulled away, revealing the empty mesh that was the barren wall and letting free the warm air the raven-haired man hadn't even noticed he expelled.

A part of him wanted to see, to look upon that figure that caused him such turmoil, and once such happiness, and tell him something… anything. Zack wanted to because inwardly he knew, this would be the last time they would meet on personal terms, if ever sour they were, and just wanted to say what was in his heart – what he had promised to say so many years ago, but knew his body spoke for him instead of his words. It wasn't needed, but now…

Gathering the shaken fragments of his mind, the newly promoted ShinRa employee pushed himself to his haunches, letting the familiar squeak of boots fill the unnoticed silence of the room. Carefully, he took one breath, slipping his eyes shut as he prepared, and turned his head, words on his lips.

"Sephiroth, sir…"

The violet gaze and questioning voice stopped as his eyes reached the desk, before they bounded across the room. Emotional distress forgotten, Zack stood with enhanced speed, enough so that the world hissed as he sprung, and turned frantically.

Yet, everywhere he looked, the SOLDIER First could find no Sephiroth. A deathly silence enshrouded the room, still but for the man's quiet breaths of shock.

In mockery of his despair, the soft glow of the clock outfaced upon the general's desk oh, eight, forty, three; he was late for orientation.

**A/N: **Yes... it's been... quite a long while... and it's very short and filled with many-a error, as well as a random style change... but, yeah... I updated, and it was the worst time to sit down and write finals and final projects loom before me. -cowers- Perhaps, this fear has driven me, so you should be happy. Yeah, happy... -ninja eyes-


End file.

Final Fantasy VII, Adventure, Romance