WARNINGS: dark, angsty. Centers around Cloud's feelings after Zack's death in the FF7 movie. Includes Zack/Cloud yaoi and mentions masterbation, blood and, of course, death.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters.
He died for me. The thought keeps me awake some nights - whenever the air smells like rain but the heavy clouds refuse to release their downpour, the tense anticipation on the breeze brings the memory back to me.
I had admired Zack - more than that, I had loved him - for a long time. He was the example I had tried to live up to and emulate since I had first joined SOLDIER. Even though he always said otherwise, I'm sure I was more of a hinderance than a help to him. When we were teamed up, he spent as much time protecting me as he did completing the mission; it was a bad priority for a perfect soldier. It became his fatal flaw.
-Soldiers can't afford distractions. They can't grow attached to anyone or anything.- These lessons had been repeated until they became our SOLDIER mantra. Zack, of all of us, knew best what it took to be an exemplorary soldier, and yet...
And yet, he had grown distracted. He had grown attached. It was as much my fault as his - I had welcomed his attention, relied on his fierce protection, and returned his unwavering love. I let our relationship advance well beyond what the term 'friendship' could even loosely define or describe. By giving him my body, I had taken his life. His blood had spilled across my arms and chest that day, splashing my face. The hauntingly dry 'rainy' nights, when the memory plagues me, my sweat carries the coppery scent of his death.
I was the only one who cried that day. Zack was a true soldier until his last breath - strong, brave, perfect. The truck rattled beneath us, his body shook one final time on top of me, and I trembled for hours afterwards.
Lying in bed years later, my body still trembles. My eyes still grow moist and spill hot tears down my cheeks. I wrap my arms around myself and hide beneath the covers. No amount of tears will ever wash away this guilt, but it's not only the guilt that torments me - it's the longing. My lower lip trembles for him; my lonely body aches. My lips are chapped and dry without his kisses. Even my own hand can't satisfy my shameful need.
I miss him. I miss his touch, his smile, his laugh. The nights are so long; the days are so painfully hard. The voices around me have lost their faces. Everything is just dull noise. My ears are straining for a voice I'll never hear again. My desire is only aroused by memories now. The years drag by and nothing changes except my increasing fatigue. Zack is dead and I have stopped living. I suffer before every rainstorm, and, in the anxious darkness, every time, I cry, trying to forget the sound of him calling my name that last day...
"Cloud."