Chapter Text
That first night—after their epic showdown with the forces of destiny or whatever—Zack doesn’t sleep exactly. It’s more like tuning into a rerun of one of his life’s most awful moments. At first everything lines up exactly how he remembers it. Cloud is still and utterly unresponsive as Zack hastily tucks him out of sight. When he turns his back, Midgar sits like a glowing beacon in the distance just as it had the last time he’d seen it. Yet, even after miles and miles of running, the city might as well have been a million more further away. A literal sea of Shinra’s forces lies waiting in his path ready to gun him down where he stands. He’s filthy and so, so tired. Some small part of him already knows he’s not going to see Aerith again. Even so, his last act as a SOLDIER won’t be to run away. Lifting his sword reverently, he instead recites the oath Angeal taught him, promising that whatever happens he will protect his honor and dreams as a SOLDIER.
With those final words he rushes into the fray. And that’s when the memory takes a strange turn. The fight feels just as desperate as before, with Shinra throwing everything it has at him. But the longer he fights the more he hears them—this cacophony of voices he doesn’t know, all crying out in unbearable agony. Their haunting despair rings in his ears long after the last shot is fired and Zack realizes he’s still standing.
It’s unsettling in a way he can’t explain. So much so, in fact, that he’s not exactly eager to repeat the experience. Every night since he’s been keeping himself awake, hoping to avoid the problem altogether. And for the most part he’s fairly successful. But, inevitably, even a SOLDIER has to let down his guard sometime.
He’s not sure at what point he nodded off. It could have been anywhere between the earliest rays of dawn popping up over the hillside and Tifa abandoning her sleeping bag to start breakfast.
The jarring shift from horizontal to sitting upright—and more or less alert—happens within a fraction of a second. It’s something that has stuck with him after his time on the run with a comatose buddy to look after and didn’t really get better after his second run-in with Hojo. This has the unfortunate consequence of startling Barret badly enough to make him jump higher than Zack would have given the big man credit for, cursing a blue streak all the while.
On the positive side, most everyone is too busy watching Barret’s much more vocal reaction to notice Zack needing a moment to settle his own nerves. They both wind up pulling it together about the same time.
Barret’s fluster quickly turns to ire as he shoves a bowl of something warm—oatmeal most likely—into his hands. “Man, ya darn near gave me a heart attack!”
“Ah, sorry! SOLDIER training doesn’t exactly wear off.” Zack figures that’s a reasonable enough explanation without getting into any gritty details.
“Hmph, we’ll see about that,” Barret practically growls, promptly reminding Zack that he really needs to stop bringing up his past affiliation to Shinra around the guy. “We reprogrammed Spikey and we’ll fix you up to.”
“Oh, ah, thanks?” It’s on the tip of his tongue to mention Cloud was never in SOLDIER, but Zack hasn’t had a chance to sort out that bit of confusion just yet. There might be a reason Cloud told them he was a SOLDIER, after all. He’s working as a mercenary now, maybe he worried no one would hire him without something so impressive on his resume? Yeah, that’s got to be it.
Aerith drifts his way with her own helping of oatmeal and Zack is quick to make room for her on the borrowed blanket he was told to sleep on—and not given much choice in matter as apparently, no, it isn’t wasted on him, really, none of them needed it, and it actually wasn’t fine for him to just sleep on the ground. Turns out Aerith and Cloud’s friends were a rather insistent bunch.
After settling at his side Aerith offers him a spoon along with one of her dazzling smiles. “Rest well?”
“Well enough.” It’s not a lie, Zack tells himself. He’d gone a lot longer on less sleep before. But the way she looks at him then makes him think that maybe he hasn’t been as slick as he thought.
“I’m surprised you were still asleep. You’re usually the first one up.” She considers him thoughtfully a moment, frowning in that cute way she has, tapping a finger to her chin.
Zack tries not to wilt under her inspection. He knows he must look pretty rough, but they’ve been on the road nonstop since they left Midgar and he hasn’t exactly had a lot of opportunities to freshen up.
“Your wings aren’t bothering you, are they?” She asks suddenly, real concern weighing down her typical cheer.
And Zack can’t have that. Especially not over this. “No, they’re just fine,” he reassures with a bright grin of his own. It still boggles the mind that Aerith doesn’t hate them on principle, as accepting of his monstrous wings as she has been of him waltzing back into her life without warning. He remembers how unsure she had been of his SOLDIER eyes at first, even if she found those pretty as well.
For now his wings are tucked away once more, hidden where no one can see. All the evidence of their existence that remains is just an uncomfortable itch beneath his skin. Well, that and the massive rip running up the back of his shirt.
He will admit his clothes are actually something of a disaster and not doing him any favors in the looking like revived roadkill department. Aerith already proclaimed it a top priority to replace them at the earliest opportunity. Which probably won’t be until they reach Kalm.
Zack would protest, surely they have important things that need doing first. But honestly, he’s not so sure if he even wants to wear the SOLDIER uniform anymore. For the longest time it was a key piece of his identity—his dream.
These days he hardly recognizes himself anyway, so he tells himself what’s one more change? Besides, if Aerith wants him in new clothes who is he to deny her? He’s done plenty of that already.
And just maybe a fresh start could be just what he needs.
“Hellooooo,” Aerith singsongs next to him, immediately recapturing his attention, “you were a million miles away just now.”
“Sorry, sorry! I just got lost in your eyes,” Zack tries to cover for his wandering thoughts.
Except, rather than the teasing giggle he expects at such a sappy comeback, Aerith gives him this knowing look before turning back to her breakfast. “Fine, don’t tell me.”
“What!?” Zack squawks.
That, at least, gets another smile out of her. But when her eyes cut back over to him there’s this sharp edge of vulnerability waiting for him. “Just promise you’ll talk to me when you’re ready, okay? I’m here for you.”
Zack has to swallow a large bite of oatmeal to hang on to his composure. Those words—she had said the same thing to him right after Angeal died and he’d been inconsolable, run through with the double-edged burden of loss and guilt. It was far from his finest moment—not that Aerith had cared. Solid as a rock, she’d held him together through the storm. And now she’s offering to do the same for whatever this is. Honestly, what could he have ever done to deserve Aerith?
When it feels like he can keep his voice mostly steady Zack fists his hand over his heart. “Okay, on my honor as a SOLDIER,” he promises. And it almost doesn’t sting to say it.