Summary: Zack Fair was a straight man. He liked his lovers with soft skin, smooth curves, and long gorgeous hair. Shinra didn't really care about that, just like they didn't care that Zack's dream had been to be a hero, not a monster. Shinra tries to break him down and tear him apart, but Cloud is what keeps him from giving in. After five years of experimentation and then another year of forced servitude, Zack realizes that he'd do anything to see Cloud's blue eyes again. He also realizes that he is too ashamed of what he's become to look the love of his life, Aerith, in the eye.

A/N: Okay so this story is something I never expected to come out of my brain. I never expected to be able to write this. I didn't know I could think up something so dark, and actually type it out. It's an interesting experience for me. I'm kind of awed at myself, kind of disgusted. I've reached a brick wall in my other stories, but I actually figured out where I was going in this story before I posted this, so I'm pretty certain I'm going to finish writing this one.

Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII

Warnings: Rape, yaoi, NC-17 concepts. Lots of angst.

Do not read if you can't handle it. Be warned, most of the story is not happy, but there will be a happy ending. If I ever write it. AxZ CxZ

Chapter One: Never Broken

They stated the rules every time they saw him. Over and over again he heard the same paragraph. It disgusted him, made him want to hurl every time he heard those words. They obviously thought that repeating it over and over as they beat, raped, and tortured him would brain wash him into believing it. Zack had gotten to the point where he pretended he believed it. He got to the point where he followed every order, ignored who was in the room, believed that he was no longer a fighter, was no longer a hero. He let himself act like a slave, and believed that he had never been anything else when he was in this dirty room, locked with the trainer. That is, until the trainer left. When the trainer left the room, Zack thought of Cloud. The kid who'd told him that he was his hero. Then, the thought that he wasn't who he was, the belief that he was less than human, disappeared. When Zack thought of Cloud all the pain he felt disappeared, all the happy times, all the reckless fun, came back to him and replaced what was happening at the moment. After thinking of Cloud he felt clean enough to think of Aerith. His beautiful, warm, gorgeous girlfriend, the one Zack thought would be able to heal every wound that was dealt him. The one who was waiting for him, in her church, worrying for him, praying for him, loving him. If only he felt clean enough for the healing, deserving enough for her love.

Cloud cleansed him, and Aerith healed him. He tried never to think of Cloud, or Aerith, when the trainer was there. It felt wrong to think of such good, innocent people when he was being touched against his will.

"You do not whine. You do not whimper or flinch or yelp. Not unless your Master tells you to do so. You do not protest unless your master wants you to express your pain, wants you to express unwillingness. You are not a SOLDIER any longer. You cannot use that strength to throw off the man on top of you. You cannot fight against us, or Shinra. You sold yourself into Shinra's ownership and now Rufus owns you. You are his fighter, you are his SOLDIER, not your own. Now that the war is over and you are useless for battle, he wants you. There are no more enemies for you to annihilate. Now you must live on your back and spread your legs. Every single part of you is his. You are a toy for his pleasure. You exist only to give him pleasure. You obey every command no matter how demeaning, painful, or lewd. You do not stop if someone walks in. You do not care who's watching it or who knows what you are. You obey your master no matter what. You are not a SOLDIER, you are a slave. "

The voice of the trainer was a greasy oily thing, just as greasy as his skin. His face loomed over Zack. The pock marks, age lines, and other various scars upon his long and narrow features made Zack extremely nauseous. Zack had been dragged to this trainer every day for the last twelve months. This trainer was supposed to break him in. He was supposed to instill in him the very basic rules Zack refused to acknowledge. He was supposed to take everything away from Zack. He wanted to take over Zack's will to be what he was, the long hard grueling days of drills, exercises and missions. He wanted to take everything Zack had worked so hard to achieve. Zack had worked hard. He had forced himself through the pain, through the mako injections that had scorched his veins with a fire so painful he could not withhold his screams, through the nausea that had followed forcing him to throw up blood, through the ache in his muscles that had sometimes hurt so much that he could barely move his fingers and toes. All so that Shinra could destroy him, melt him down into nothing, turn him into a monster, make him less than human, make him a disposable toy.

He had wanted to serve Shinra to the best of his ability. He had wanted to go as far as he could go up the ranks of Shinra's army. He forced himself to be the best of the best, so that he could serve Shinra and become a hero. He had become 1st class at age sixteen, had been a Colonel by nineteen, Lieutenant General by twenty-one. He had been the best SOLDIER, the most advanced, beside the General himself. He had surpassed his mentor, taken down Genesis, and lived to watch every man he looked up to be taken over by madness. Now all that he had worked for was nothing. He was no longer among the strongest people in the world. He was a slave. There was a collar around his neck, shackles on his feet.

He wasn't even human anymore. Neither he, nor any of the SOLDIERS were completely human. He was worse though, Hojo had seen to that. Five years he had been left in that man's hands, to be tortured, bent, broken. Hojo hadn't succeeded in breaking him. He refused to go down like his hero. Sephiroth went mad and destroyed everything he had built because of the scientist, a creature that didn't deserve to be called human. Zack was sane, he had his honor, he had his dreams. He'd proven to Lazard that his dreams were not unattainable. He'd become a hero the day he met Cloud. Cloud had told him with his own voice in the simplest possible words that Zack was a hero. It didn't matter whether he was recognized for it or not. Cloud told him that he had saved him, inspired him, become his hero the day he had met him. The boy fought against Hojo like a bat out of hell. Whether Hojo was taking himself, or Zack, into that back room to be tortured, Cloud fought. He remained strong through everything.

This inspired Zack and he told Cloud not to let what was happening to his body break his mind. He'd gotten him to swear he wouldn't break. Zack had had everything he'd needed to survive and he wouldn't let Hojo take that from him. Cloud kept Zack fighting, even after he could no longer speak, even after he could no longer move, Cloud had kept Zack going. When he had finally found the strength to escape, when Hojo had finally gone back to Midgar and had taken all his men with him, ensured that there was no way for Zack and Cloud to break out of their Mako prisons, Zack got him and Cloud the hell out of dodge. But Zack had made a mistake that put both of their lives in danger. He'd headed to Midgar because he couldn't leave Aerith behind, he'd had a half brained plan in his mind. Get to Midgar, get Aerith and escape to Icicle Inn, an area that they could hide and escape Shinra's notice until the end of time. He'd been stupid to think he'd be able to make it there.

As Zack lay there listening to the trainer demand that he allow himself to be used, Zack ignored one of the rules he'd set for himself. He was too tired, too close to breaking no to think of Cloud. Lately, he was getting so tired of fighting, of letting them do whatever the hell they wanted and simply cutting himself off from it. Lately he'd needed to think of love, of comfort, of innocence. He couldn't keep from thinking of Cloud. He wondered if he had managed to escape, if he had died on that cliff after Zack had been taken away. It had taken an entire army to tear him down, and just as he was falling Zack had seen Cloud's face, and heard his voice for the first time in a long while. He remembered his voice, his eyes, his touch. It always made him smile. Sometimes, Zack wondered about why it was easier to think of Cloud than Aerith. Other times he told himself that thinking of Cloud made him think of who he was before Sephiroth had gone bat shit fucking crazy and destroyed Nibelheim, forcing the horrible truth in his eyes. Shinra was evil. He himself was a monster.

Cloud had experienced so much more pain than Zack, he hadn't had the enhancements of a SOLDIER to help him fight the mako. Zack had heard Hojo mutter to himself that "Specimen C" was a rare breed that had an extremely negative reaction to mako being introduced to the blood stream. That's why the fucker did it so often. Zack had gotten Cloud a chance at freedom and Cloud could do nothing as Zack took it away. Zack had sacrificed both himself and Cloud in order to get to Aerith, a girl Cloud had never actually met. It proved that Zack was a selfish fuck. He should have forgotten about Aerith and run off with Cloud to somewhere they would never be found. He should have waited until Cloud woke up, until Cloud was able to fight along side him, before he went to Midgar. Zack had the same amount of intelligence as a monster. He was almost as human as a monster. Perhaps, he deserved to be chained up and held down like one.

The entire time he had been here Zack had been thinking about how he might actually deserve what was happening to him. If Cloud had gotten captured, killed, or worse, taken back to Hojo's labs, then Zack deserved to be destroyed, deserved to be broken. He had let him down, failed at being the hero Cloud had claimed he had always been and always would be.

"Spread your legs!" The trainer barked. Zack wondered if he should resist today. He had spent so much time resisting. He had killed at least thirty guards and two trainers in the first two weeks. More kept coming, there were more and more and more, and eventually Zack stopped fighting, because every attempt to escape, every life he took, was in vain. He would always be stopped and taken over. No one would help him. He spent his whole life wanting to be a hero, wanting to rescue people from things they were too weak to escape. Now, he was wishing for a hero, wishing someone would fight off the things he was too weak to destroy.

Zack spread his legs. After the initial month of trying to escape Zack had accepted that there was no way he was getting out. That was when he started seeing the trainer. It had taken the trainer two months before Zack gave in to the violent methods he used. It had taken two months of beating, two months of rape, and two months of unimaginable pain to get Zack to spread his legs on his own. He thought nothing could hurt him after Hojo's experimentation. He knew he had the power to throw the man on top of him over a hundred yards. There was strength in his body, in his senses, that was unparalleled, except maybe by Cloud, who had gone through the same experiences, had the same amount of mako injected into his veins, been trapped in a tube of mako for the same amount of time. Zack could never imagine how it felt to be raped, beaten, used. The constant penetration, the constant use, was more pain than Zack had ever felt. The shame of it, the helplessness, destroyed him. Zack wasn't supposed to be helpless. He wasn't supposed to be trapped by someone he could kill with his pinky finger faster than he could blink. But he was trapped, and this was happening, and sometimes Zack felt like he was just letting it. Like he hadn't been fighting hard enough from the get go. He was tired of fighting after the Wutaian war. Completely sick of it after killing Angeal. Now, he'd given up fighting. Fighting led to more beating, it led to worse torture, more demented games, and worst of all, more degradation. He'd hoped it would become less humiliating in time, he was wrong.

He wanted the pain to stop, he wanted to see the sky again, he wanted the claustrophobia gone, and the grubby, dirty, disgusting guards dead. He wanted the dicks to stop being shoved up his ass and down his throat. He wanted the pain gone. It hurt less to do as he was told. He'd still choke on the dicks, and be unable to sit down properly, but it hurt less. He had resisted so hard, but eventually he did what he was told. All he wanted now was for it to hurt less.

"Finger yourself." The trainer ordered. Zack shuddered at the humiliation that order brought to him.

He wondered what Cloud would think if he'd been told to do the same. He wondered if Cloud would have fought harder than he had. Zack had been awed by how hard the boy had fought against Hojo. The witty remarks, the insults, the yelling, the struggling against bonds that couldn't be broken, Cloud hadn't stopped until he could no longer speak, no longer move. Zack had felt so helpless when Cloud had been shoved into their shared cell, unable to move. Void. Zack even cried when he realized that Cloud couldn't hear him, see him, feel him. No matter how much pain Hojo had dealt him, Cloud hadn't stopped resisting. Hojo had gotten sick of it and made it impossible for Cloud to use his body to support his infallible will. Zack saw how fighting had led to more pain, more screams, more torture than could ever be imagined. Zack felt that Cloud was either the most admirable, or the most stupid man he had ever met. He wish he could have that much stubbornness. Instead, he gave in and played along until Hojo let his guard down enough, he waited for his chance, and then, Zack took that chance and took Cloud with him.

Once, Zack had had just the same amount of determination he'd seen in Cloud's eyes. Now, Zack was giving up, giving in. Killing his own mentor, watching his hero be reduced to a mad man, five years of Hojo, losing the fight that would have won him and Cloud their freedom, being captured by Shinra and taken to the slave training grounds, a year of rape, sex games, pain, all of this had made Zack lose that spark he' d once been so famous for having.

The trainer punched him in the nose. Zack felt the crunch of the broken bones and knew that the mako would piece his nose back together. They had continued to give him mako injections. Once he had started to do as told and had stopped fighting, they gave him a larger room that allowed him to exercise his body. The room was still tiny, but it was better than the earthen cage they had given him at the beginning. The first room had been barely big enough for Zack to move around. Zack had had to destroy the walls in order to break out of the room. Now he could work his body and get it back to the physical shape it had once been in. Somehow, he managed to keep the malnutrition and lack of exercise from affecting his body. Perhaps, the sex was exercise enough for his muscles. He knew his legs sure as hell hurt everyday after he'd been locked in a room with the trainer for a few hours. That didn't stop him from doing squats though.

Apparently, Rufus still wanted Zack as a SOLDIER, he just wanted him to be a little more, or a little less, depending how you looked at it. Zack could see it now, he'd be stuck as a figure head that led the men while he got fucked in the back ground. Sephiroth was dead, and now his ex-right hand man was to take his place. Zack had been the only one who hadn't grown up with him to become his friend. It hadn't taken quite a bit of hard work in order to break down the walls Sephiroth had set up around him, and it led to him being well known for being the second strongest SOLDIER 1st. Rufus didn't only want Zack as his sex toy, he wanted someone leading SOLDIER that he could control completely. Zack got closer and closer to that point as time went on. Someday, he'd be trapped like Sephiroth had been.

"You do as I tell you without shame! You do not feel shame. No order is too lewd, no position is too revealing and nothing is too painful. Do you hear me?"

Zack nodded and because of his action received a punch to the gut. It had taken another month and a half to get Zack not to shudder or flinch or yelp at the trainer's attentions. An additional half month to get him to answer the trainer's questions verbally.

Cloud wasn't a very verbal creature, if he remembered correctly. They had been friends before the Nibelheim incident, and Zack remembered how hard it'd been to coax words out of Cloud's mouth. It was ridiculously hard to get that boy to show emotion. He'd been the most stoic, unexpressive, person Zack had ever met.

"Do you understand?" The trainer repeated.

Zack hated that question. Of course he understood, it was the simplest fucking order in the world. How could he not understand after hearing that order so many god damn fucking times?

"Yes, Master." Zack responded.

There was no emotion in his voice. It was oddly amusing to Zack to realize that. He'd somehow been able to get rid of that. Before he'd been the most expressive happy person you could ever meet, and Zack was sure that if he got out from underground he'd be back to that happy go lucky personality. It would be fake though. Zack couldn't imagine being able to honestly express his emotions the way he had before. He couldn't see himself making it past this stuff as the same person. Now he could rival Cloud in his stoicism. Sometimes he wondered if seeing Aerith again, touching her again, seeing her smile again, feeling her warmth, could really heal him. He was almost certain that it could. She'd healed him after he'd been forced to kill Angeal. The thought of reaching her, and having everything made right again had helped him drag an unresponsive Cloud across the world.

"Then do as you're told."

But Zack couldn't see himself being able to see her again. The thought of touching her with his soiled body disgusted him. He wouldn't be able to give her the good, honest, happy husband she'd wanted him to be. He was broken now, he didn't deserve her warmth. He shouldn't expect her to accept him, shouldn't ask her to heal him. Not after making her wait six years, not after giving in to the evil that surrounded him. He was a tool: a tool for war, and soon, or maybe he already was?, a tool for sex. He was becoming a puppet of Shinra. He'd always been a puppet of Shinra. If he ever got out of here, there was no way he could go to her. He had to keep her away from the corruption, the unaltered evil, that surrounded him.

"Yes, Master." Zack lifted his legs a little so that he could reach his hand down and touch himself. He looked at the ceiling and mindlessly moved his fingers in and out. He felt his own fingers go in easily and thought vaguely about how his body no longer resisted the intrusion. A month after the trainer had gotten Zack to answer him, he had gotten Zack to give him oral. It took another two months for him to get Zack to give in to any other demands he could think of. For the last five months the man had been trying to get Zack to fake pleasure at what was done to him. Zack fought violently against this and began to rebel against the simplest orders in whatever manner he could. This led to more pain. Sometimes Zack thought about how inconsequential faking willingness would be. His body did like it, he would obey the orders. What more was it to pretend to be willing? If it made the pain stop?

Zack was straight. He liked girls, not men, that was why he couldn't do that. His father had beaten it into him that he could never, never, ever desire the touch of another man. Pretending he desired the touch, actually desiring the touch, it was the same. His father would be so ashamed. Aerith would be so ashamed.

He wouldn't do it. Never, if he did that, he would disappear. Why couldn't they be happy with him cooperating with the sex? Why couldn't they be happy with him giving them pleasure? Why did he have to pretend to be a willing participant who was actually enjoying it? Why did he have to pretend to want it?

He thought of Cloud again, he pretty much shattered that rule. The something within that had kept him from thinking of Cloud in the training room was completely broken now. Zack was too tired now. When he was alone, safe, in his room he liked to imagine that Cloud was still alive, living the life he wanted to live, travelling the world. He thought about Cloud rebelling against Shinra, returning back to the quiet, fiery, strong person he'd been before Hojo. He thought of him becoming the warrior he was meant to be. He thought of him becoming strong enough to defeat Sephiroth, not as just a fluke like the first time, but in an honest to goodness fight of the wills. Thinking of Cloud and all that he could be and what he would be doing if he were alive helped Zack get through this. At first, he'd thought of Aerith. He had hoped her beautiful eyes, and gorgeous smile and the thought of seeing them again would give him enough hope to get him through this. It wasn't, thinking of Aerith made him think of how impure he was, how awful, disgusting, dirty he was becoming.

When he thought of Cloud, he didn't feel dirty. He felt hope for the both of them. Inspired by the thought that Cloud was living out Zack's dreams, keeping his honor alive, becoming a great hero, Zack kept himself from breaking. Sometimes, in his dreams, Zack saw blonde hair and blue eyes on a hero, coming to save him from the deplorable life he was living.

He'd been Cloud's hero, his hope, his inspiration. Now, Cloud was the thing that was helping him cope. Cloud made him think that maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to recuperate and become fit to be what he had been. He thought of this as he continued to stretch himself.

If he gave in to their final demand, if he pretended to enjoy it, if he became a lowly slave, moaned like a wonton whore, then he could never be fit to be a hero again.

"Spread your legs wider."

Zack mindlessly did what he was told. He brought his legs as close to his shoulders and as far apart as his not so limited flexibility allowed him to. The trainer came closer to him, and Zack pretended that Cloud would barge into the room and save him. Cloud would rip the man away from him snarling, he'd take him away and reinforce in him that he was not worthless, that he was not a failure, that he was not nothing, that he didn't deserve to be used. Just like he'd done in the basement torture chambers of the Nibelheim Manor, Cloud would keep him believing that he was human.

Cloud had saved Zack from such pain many times.

As the trainer leaned even closer, putting his arms on either side of his head, Zack thought of the times he'd been wrapped in Cloud's arms. Thinking of the comfort the small boy's arms had offered him, so long ago, ahelped keep him from shuddering at this man's horrendous embrace. Thrown into the cell he and Cloud shared, he was sometimes unable to move, shaking in pain. On those occasions Cloud had wrapped him in his arms, set Zack's head on his own chest and held him tightly. The boy had been so tiny that Zack had never dreamed that he would fit so well against him.

He imagined Cloud was there with him, as the trainer started to run his hands through Zack's hair. It was Cloud's gentle hands and fingers instead.

"Reach deeper, touch that spot that makes you see stars." The trainer muttered. Cloud was telling him that if he just closed his eyes, fell asleep, then the pain would go away.

Zack closed his eyes and curled his fingers deeper into his hole. He bit his lower lip as the pleasure filled him. He'd found that spot.

The trainer gripped his free arm and ran his hands up and down the muscles there. Zack ignored his caresses ignored his embrace. It was Cloud checking hm for cuts and bruises. It was something less disgusting, more innocent.

Zack was being wrapping in a hug that was warmer, gentler, than any he had ever experienced before. The warmth above him was something sweet and gentle. Not lusty, hot, fierce. Cloud's arms were soft, almost motherly. They were definitely the arms of a man, but not threatening. Zack liked women's embraces, they turned him on, made him feel fierce desire to possess. Cloud's arms made him feel slightly protected, but not. Almost as if the person with him were his equal in every way. Cloud protected Zack, and Zack protected Cloud.

Zack had saved Cloud. Cloud had saved Zack. Zack needed saving again, he needed help, he refused to admit it to anyone but himself. He had not yet prayed to Gaia to bring Cloud to him. He wanted Cloud to be safe from the pain of seeing his hero in this horrible, lowly, deplorable state.

They had comforted each other for a long time after they had been captured. Sometimes Zack would hold the boy in his arms and run his fingers through his hair, rocking him backwards and then forwards. Zack had spoken gentle words of comfort as the precious gift he was holding to his chest cried and whimpered from the pain. Zack had never imagined that he would be hugging another man that way. It wasn't the embrace of a lover, but it was not the embrace of friends, not the embrace of family. Zack knew they were dependent on each other. He felt he couldn't live without. He didn't know if Cloud could live without him, but he hoped so.

He'd never thought he'd wish to be in another man's arms. Somehow, he felt he belonged in Cloud's embrace. It was strange, at the same time that he longed to be with Aerith, he longed to be back in Cloud's arms. He wished to protect Cloud, have Cloud protect him. It was disturbing how close they had become. It was disturbing that Zack felt he wouldn't be able to live on if he accepted that Cloud was dead. Cloud had probably died a year ago, on that cliff, but Zack didn't let himself think it.

"Moan, damnit." The trainer said. Zack did nothing.

"Gaia, all you have to do is pretend you want it. You are enjoying it, I can tell." The man's whisper was in his ear now. Zack hadn't noticed when he moved. He wasn't seeing what was going on around him. He was numb to the expressions on the trainer's face, the snarls in his voice.

Zack didn't respond. He pretended he was like Cloud had been. As he'd dragged the boy across the country, he hadn't responded to any words. He hadn't had any expression on his face, no emotion had showed in his eyes. Zack wished he was void to what was going on. Every day he wished he was able to make himself numb to it.

The disgusting man placed himself between Zack's spread legs. He grabbed Zack's moving wrist and pulled his fingers out. He then roughly slammed three of his own into Zack.

Zack repressed the whimper of pain that longed to leave his lips by biting through his lower lip. The trainer leaned in and licked the blood.

"I'm getting tired of you SOLDIER boy. Your disgusting fuck of a master refuses to allow us to just give up and kill you. If you had any other master we would have killed you ages ago. Do you realize that?"

Zack didn't respond and the man slapped him.

"Open your eyes, look at me. Don't space out you fuck, feel everything I'm doing to you." As he spoke those words his fingers thrust harshly into Zack's prostate.

Zack opened his eyes and glared at the disgusting face above him. The man grinned and began to relentlessly rub against Zack's sweet spot. The unwanted pleasure was pooling in Zack's belly, his erection was straining. Zack was shaking. He wanted release.

This wasn't happening.

"You have no way of getting out of here. Killing yourself won't do. What more is it to just moan for us, hm? You've already been passed around to all of the guards."

Zack felt the pleasure settle in his stomach, he was getting close. It was disgusting, the man was being as rough as possible, but Zack was close to crying out in pleasure. He hadn't even touched Zack's erection and he was close to coming, Zack was disgusting. Zack was sure it showed in his eyes, he knew there was a flush on his cheeks. He unconsciously opened his legs even wider. He cursed himself.

"You've already been forced on your knees. You already have extremely good dick sucking skills. You've taken it up the ass in every way possible. You've been forced to fuck other guys. We've forced you to come. Right now, as I speak, you're almost there. You've passed every other stage, but you still resist the last."

Zack was mentally kicking himself. The man had started smiling, and Zack's hips had started moving into his fingers. Zack's body was begging to be fucked, and Zack's usual methods of coping weren't working. The self loathing was getting worse and worse. He was thinking of Cloud, he was wanting it, and he was thinking of his innocent little friend. He was starting to get confused. Another face was overlaying itself on top of the trainer's. Pretending that the rough and sexual caresses of the trainer were the innocent touches of his friend had messed with his head. Zack was imagining Cloud's fingers inside him instead. What the fuck was he thinking? Why was he thinking this? It was so wrong, so disgusting. Zack was becoming bent.

If Cloud saw him now, impaling himself against a man's fingers, enjoying the feel of something inside of him, he'd be disgusted. He couldn't even imagine how he'd react if he knew that Zack was pretending it was him on top of him. Perhaps it was because Cloud wasn't a threat to him. Cloud wouldn't have wanted to hurt him. Cloud wouldn't have forced him into this like the trainer was. An image of a look of disgust on both Cloud's and Aerith's faces came unbidden into Zack' s mind's eye.

He felt a look of horror come to his face. He was enjoying this, wanting this, and it wasn't pretend. He was wanting Cloud.

The man chuckled and continued talking. Zack could see the victory in his eyes. Cloud's eyes were blue. His voice was soft and sweet. This man was nothing like Cloud.

"Men like to think that they're experts at sex, that you love what they're doing to you. In order to get out of here, you have to take that final step. You have to become the actor, the performer, we need you to be. Just do it, blue eyes."

Zack hated the nickname. He had called Cloud blue eyes before, he'd made fun of his delicate features, marveled at the boy's beautiful eyes. Zack had once told Cloud that if he found a woman with his eyes, at an acceptable age, he'd fall in love. Of course, Aerith had beautiful green eyes. He hadn't seen eyes like Aerith's anywhere else, either.

The trainer was forcing pleasure on him, making it build up in his spine, and he was picturing the face of his best friend. It was disgusting.

"What use is it to remain silent? It won't help you. We want you out of here just as much as you want to be the SOLDIER you were before you came here."

Zack resisted the urge to yell at him that he wasn't a SOLDIER when he got here. He'd already been disillusioned, already been turned into a monster. He didn't though, the fucker wouldn't care. He'd just get rougher, forcing his fingers even harder into that spot that was making him see double.

Zack didn't respond. The trainer leaned in and began to suck on his neck in the spots that made Zack force down sighs of pleasure. The trainer knew his body better than Zack himself, by now. He had fucked Zack so many times that it was impossible for him not to know how to touch him in ways that made him feel good. Sometimes, the trainer had actually been gentle with Zack. Over time, Zack could see that the trainer was human. The trainer actually felt some pity for him, he was actually tired of trying to break him, and he actually respected Zack for how long he had lasted. It was revolting, knowing that it was this humanity that was helping the trainer and his determination to break Zack.

The trainer shoved his fingers even harder into Zack and he felt his release coming. Zack longed to purr, to moan, to exclaim that he wanted it harder, faster, deeper. Zack longed to cut his tongue out and stab himself in the gut.

As Zack was coming the trainer grabbed the base of his dick and forced it to be a dry one. Zack gasped and groaned loudly as his body squeezed the man's fingers tightly and his dick twitched in the man's hands. The pressure was too strong. He wanted release. It'd been too long. It was Cloud who was holding him. Cloud wanted to hear that Zack enjoyed it.

He froze in horror. The realization of what he was thinking was forcing itself on him every five seconds. Everything was contradicting itself.

"Finally, you make a sound. Took too long, sugar lips." The man let go of Zack's dick and slipped his fingers out of him. He grabbed onto Zack's legs and positioned himself at his entrance.

He slipped his hardness into Zack and aimed directly at Zack's prostate. The shame of doing what was asked of him never compared to the shame of actually enjoying it. There was a searing pleasure running up his spine. Zack was moaning. His hips were moving and the man was chuckling in his ear. He wrapped his legs around the man's waist tightly. His moans were loud, his cries frequent, he was whimpering in need.

The chuckles weren't oily, cruel, gross. They were soft, amused, proud, a little bit smug, but harmless. It wasn't the trainer's laugh, it was Cloud's. Zack felt a little bit of pride at knowing he was able to please Cloud. Zack was convincing himself that it was someone he cared about above him. Someone who cared for him was the one moving inside him.

He felt ashamed. It wasn't Cloud, it was the trainer. He didn't want to please this man. He wanted to kill himself.

"What is it that you want, baby? Hmm?"

He wanted to cut out the trainer's tongue, castrate him, and force his own dick down his throat.

He wanted Cloud.

"Harder, please, please, please." Zack begged. He couldn't believe he was begging. He felt his arms moving to drape themselves around the man's shoulders.

His voice was begging for the man to fuck him harder. His mind was begging Cloud to hold him tighter. He wanted Cloud to make it all disappear.

"Please, what?" The trainer pulled out of Zack almost completely. Zack felt the sudden emptiness.

Zack groaned at the loss. He wanted to be filled again. He wanted the pleasure.

He wanted to leave this place. He'd do anything to leave this place. But there was something he wouldn't do. There was something he couldn't allow himself to do. What was it? How could he have forgotten? Everything in his head was warring with itself. He wanted sex. He didn't want sex. He wanted to be free. He knew that it would never happen. He wanted the man in front of him to fuck him into the mattress. He wanted the man in front of him to burn in hell. He wanted him to experience the worst kind of pain possible. He wanted to lock himself in a room with the man and tear him apart. Kill him as slowly and painfully as he possibly could, only to bring him back and kill him in an entirely different way. He wanted freedom. He didn't want to pay the price. He didn't have a clue what he wanted.

"Please, fuck me, hard!" Zack gasped out. He moved his hips toward the other man more forcefully. The man grunted slightly. Zack was falling apart. What was wrong with him? What was coming out of his mouth? What was he thinking? He wanted this man to get the fuck away from him. He wanted to rip this man's head off of his body. What the fuck was he doing? Was he finally breaking?

"Aww, baby. You've finally lost the fight. Don't be rude, you know who you're addressing. Say it again, louder. Then I'll give you what you want. I'll make you scream in pleasure." The man said. Zack didn't even know the trainer's name. It never bothered him before. The thought never even occurred to him. But right now, as he was acting like a total slut, Zack had that thought fill his brain.

He was groaning and whimpering in need. He grabbed onto the man's shoulders, squeezed his legs tighter around him, trying to get the man's dick into his ass. He wanted it to go deeper than it ever had before.

His mind was disconnected from his body. He saw what was in front of him. He heard what came out of his mouth. He heard what he trainer said. He felt the trainer's body above him. He felt the strain in his hips as he spread his legs too far apart to be possible for a man. He felt the hardness at his entrance. He felt the hollowness inside his passage. He felt everything, but he didn't understand anything.

It wasn't clicking. How on earth could he possibly want this? What was going on?

His mind wasn't there. His thoughts were on someone who wasn't in the room. He was thinking of things he shouldn't be thinking. He was saying things he shouldn't be saying. He had no clue what the fuck was going on. The confusion was making him lose his grip. He felt his mind sliding away. He was screaming on the inside. He was being torn apart.

A strangled cry left his lips. He couldn't imagine what he looked like at the moment. Was there wonton desire on his face, or horror?

He wasn't locked in a room with the trainer. He was back in the labs, immersed in mako. He was dragging a body across the plains of Midgar. He was in the bed of a beat up old truck, talking to an old man. He was fighting an army of infantrymen. He was fighting a squadron of SOLDIERS. He was fighting in Wutai. There was dry dessert and rocks around him. There was moist jungle and green vines. Where the fuck was he?

He was being held down by five men who were five times weaker than he was as another moved inside him. He was killing all six of the men. He was staring down at an erection he had no idea he had gotten. He was running through halls, searching for a way out. He was screaming inside an earthen cage. What was going on? Where was he?

He was trapped he couldn't get out. He was all alone. Before he'd had someone with him, someone holding him together, keeping him alive. Where was he? He needed to protect that someone. Who did he need to protect?

What did they look like? He'd had that face in his mind's eye a few seconds ago. Why had he forgotten? How could he have forgotten?

He was everywhere and nowhere at once.

The trainer said something that Zack couldn't hear. Zack had forgotten what was keeping him whole. He was losing himself. He was breaking. He couldn't let himself slide into insanity. He was frantically searching through his memories, through his thoughts, through every face he'd ever seen, every pair of eyes, every pair of lips. He was frantically searching for something to keep him from falling over the edge.

He'd been imagining it was someone else above him. Who had he been imagining? What was their name?

The trainer hit him again. There was even more blood in his mouth. His lip was no longer bleeding. He felt like there were holes in him. He felt a countless number of bullets pierce through his skin. He saw a bunch of weaklings he shouldn't have trouble fighting against destroying him. He felt pain, pain, pain, so much pain. What would get rid of the pain? Was it physical? Was it emotional? What was going on? Where was he? What was he doing?

Now there was a cut on the inside of his cheek that was bleeding profusely. He was choking. On blood, on mako, he couldn't breathe. He felt himself hyperventilating and heard the trainer yelling at him frantically, trying to get through to him. But Zack couldn't hear the words. He was seeing green, he was seeing blue, and yellow. He was hearing screams. He was hearing gunshots. What was happening to him? Where was he? Where was he? Was he okay? Had he failed? Did he survive?

What was he doing? Where was he? What was he thinking? What was he seeing? Was he alive? Had he managed to do it? He was living out both their dreams, wasn't he? He was keeping them alive? He couldn't be dead, he couldn't. He had to be somewhere. It didn't matter where. Zack didn't have to see him. He just needed to know he was alive. Was he alive?

But he did need to know where he was. He had to be in the corner of his own mind. Speaking to him, keeping him grounded, keeping him whole. Where was he? That figure had to be guarding him.

He was searching frantically. He felt himself clawing at the trainer, trying to pull him closer while trying to push him away at the same time.

He was being beaten over and over again. He was hearing the sound of his own bones breaking. He was hearing the sounds of his sword sliding through bodies, hearing the cries of fallen enemies, feeling the bodies beneath his feet. What was going on? Who was he killing? Why was he killing?

He was laying down being pinned down. He was standing proudly, the bodies were laying on the ground. Where the fuck was he? What the fuck was he seeing? There were so many warring images running through his mind. He didn't understand. He didn't comprehend. He had lost something, something he had needed to protect.

What was he protecting? What was he looking for? What was it? Where was he?

Who was it? He was shaking. There was a word leaving his mouth. He couldn't understand what he was saying. He knew that if he heard it he'd be able to put everything straight in his mind.

Where was…..? He stopped moving. He saw a beautiful pale face above him. There was confusion, there was doubt on that face. He wanted to get rid of the pain etched into those features. He felt himself reach out a hand and grab the back of the face's head. He felt soft hair in his fingers. The hair was blonde. The eyes widened a little and the mouth dropped just a bit. There was a bit of a pout on those lips. Zack could feel a smile on his own. He thought the pout was cute. He felt himself bring the forehead of the boy above him to his chest. There were words leaving his mouth.

Then he remembered. The name, the reason. Cloud.

And then he understood what was going on. He was staring up at the trainer, in the same position he'd been in before. He'd never been fighting against enemies, killing guards. He hadn't been getting beaten.

Zack looked into the trainer's eyes and felt a mocking smile come to his lips. He heard words leave his mouth that he had sworn would never leave his mouth. But he didn't care. He'd do anything to get out of here, he had no pride anymore, no shame. He didn't give a shit. It didn't bother him. He'd become what he always wanted to be. He'd fought through things he'd never imagined fighting. He'd survived. It didn't really matter if he gave in to their last demand. It wouldn't make him less than he was. He had a reason to fight. He just had to wait for the perfect opportunity. He'd done it before, played along until the enemy's guard was down.

Nothing could break him. Saying these words, pretending to like it, letting Rufus Shinra use him as a sex toy, it wouldn't break him.

He moaned slightly and forced his chest against the man on top of him. He brought himself as close to the other man as was possible. He was moving against the trainer like a whore. It didn't matter. He thrust his dick into the trainer's stomach, rubbed his ass against the trainer's dick. They wanted him to be a slut? Sure, fine. He'd do it. He could kick all of their asses, tear apart all of their hopes and dreams apart. He'd serve Shinra. He'd become their poster boy and make the men idolize him. He'd gain as much power as he could. His personality attracted people like flies, his speeches inspired men to serve.

He'd serve Shinra until he found Cloud. Then, when he had enough loyal men, he'd bring Shinra down. It was easier to tear something apart from the inside.

"Please, fuck me, master." Zack whispered into the trainer's ear.

Zack woke up in a cold sweat. He'd been dreaming this dream for quite some time. It returned at least once a week. Every time it left him dazed and confused.

A/N: Okay, just so you know. Zack isn't going to be a timid little submissive character. Neither is Cloud. They will both bottom, they will both top, they are equals in their relationship. Right now, all that's between them is a seriously fucked up codependency, mainly because of what they went through together in Hojo's labs. In this chapter Zack is dreaming, that's why it's in all italics. The dream is more a memory of the day he decided to destroy Shinra by pretending to be a good little puppet. The confusion he feels is because of a year of being trapped under ground, half starved, constantly beaten, raped, and tortured. He isn't really as weak as he seems in this chapter.