a man may drink and not be drunk

[exsurgo]

[ 1;

It bleeds together. Days after endless days, blurring into one another because none of them really matter until Cloud wakes up. Not that he doesn’t value each and every one of them, every day that he and Cloud make it through unscathed. And the end – that bleeds together, too. He remembers putting Cloud down behind an outcropping, trying to keep him sheltered, ruffling his hair. More men than he could have imagined standing before him. Against him. Fighting until he could feel himself starting to slow, hot bursts of pain, falling. And Cloud’s face. Cloud’s voice, telling him no, but it’s such a backwater name -

no. That was before. He isn’t remembering right. Cloud is here, but he’s mako poisoned. He can’t move without help, that’s why -

no, he did move, he crawled over and Zack told him -

told him -

he can’t remember. Could, if it was quiet, if he could hear his thoughts over the underwater whoosh of his own pulse in his ears. But at least it’s warm - why is it warm? It’s cold, the rain and the hard ground beneath him and the chill he knows is from blood loss -

his body feels light. Like floating. Dying, must be. That’s why he said all of that, right? He got to see Cloud one last time, that’s something. He would like to see him again, but he’s tired. He’ll sleep, and then

2;

beep. beep. beep. His alarm? He’s too tired to get up, too woozy, must have only just fallen asleep -

not an alarm. A monitor. Infirmary? The antiseptic tickle of the air he breathes in says yes. Opens his eyes. Fluorescent light, stiff white sheets, a rattly cot. Oh. Infirmary for him, then. His chest hurts. How did we wind up here, huh? he asks, coughs around it, finds his voice creaky and stale. Cloud’ll forgive him, he’s sure. And Cloud is -

not here. He calls. Then shouts. Then pulls a needle from his arm and starts peeling off sticky tabs – good thing he was never prone to chest hair – ignores the way the monitors trade their beeps for screams one after the other, swings his feet out of bed just as a whitecoated woman appears in the doorway. Cloud, he insists, where’s Cloud, and she lifts her open hands and walks toward him and asks him to sit down, please, Mr Fair, you’ve been through quite the ordeal just as he pushes up and off the bed and he falls and bowls into her, knocks them both to the floor. Running, then, the sound of hard soles on polished floors, hands under his arms to lift him up and a face he recognizes as friend-turned-threat. Threat? He wondered, thought maybe not -

but Cloud is gone, and nobody gets a pass until Zack knows where he is. He shouts something, takes a swing. His arms get pinned to his sides and there’s the bite of a needle and just enough time to think the prick sedated me and then

3;

easier, this time, the light, floating feeling of his body solidifying, settling into itself and all his constituent parts in a way that feels less woozy, less garbled. There are still beeps, and when he cracks his itchy, dust-dry eyes open the lights are still fluorescent. The air still prickles of hospital. And his first thought is still Cloud but this time, when he turns his head to look for the needle and pull it out -

there he is. Cloud. Slumped unmoving in a chair, like Zack had so long to get used to, but dressed differently. Accessorized. Zack laughs, and it sounds like rust, but he means it. ]

There you are.

Comments

[disheroic]

[ cloud knows zack's right, but it doesn't stop the guilt from eating at him. fortunately, guilt is one thing he's had a hell of a lot of practice in dealing with, and he knows that sometimes you have to make a conscious decision not to indulge it before it chews a hole in you. so he breathes in, out, and makes a concerted effort to shove the idea that he wasn't there for zack when zack needed him down and away.

he'll deal with it later. right now? he is here, and that's what he wants to focus on.

so he turns a little, leaning in to press a kiss against zack's temple and give his hand another little squeeze. ]

You're worth the wait. Always have been.

[exsurgo]

Guess I made an impression, huh? I'm glad.

[ It's... it seems like a good thing, weird as that is to say. That everything that happened happened, and brought them to here. When they were with Shinra it had all been moments snatched between training and missions, and then they'd been on the run and he hadn't even really known if Cloud was still in there. And now - they're here. He doesn't exactly know where here is, but Cloud doesn't seem to be worried or think they're in danger. Most importantly he's him, and Cloud is Cloud, and they're together. He leans his head on Cloud's shoulder, gives a little exhale. Yeah. It's good. He's quiet a moment, and then - ]

Hey, Cloud? I need to ask you something really important. It might be hard, but I need to know.

Did they hit my face?

Am I still hot?

[disheroic]

[ nothing about this is going to be easy. a lot has changed in three years -- cloud has changed, even though he only has muddy memories to go by. and there's a chance that zack will realize that and decide that this isn't the cloud he wants to be with, isn't the same one he fell in love with all those years ago.

but for now? zack puts his head on cloud's shoulder, and cloud can reach up and run his fingers gently through the other man's hair, and it feels like the closest he's been to okay in a long, long time.

... and yeah, it's impossible to forget that this is zack. the proof is there every time he opens his mouth. ]

Your face is fine. [ turning to press a little kiss up against his hairline, mouth twitching into something that's almost a smile. ] But they definitely scrambled your brain.

[exsurgo]

Oh, ouch. I guess that explains why I'm still crazy over a guy who doesn't appreciate my charms, huh?

[ If that sounded wounded - which it doesn't - he'd only ruin it when he tips his face up to steal a quick kiss from Cloud's lips. Just as chaste as the one before it, but still - it feels monumental, even more so now that he knows just how long it's been.

They've got some real catching up to do. ]

So when can we get a doctor in here to sign off on letting me out?

[disheroic]

Yeah. [ with a little roll of his eyes -- absolutely ineffective when that stolen little kiss is enough to have him smiling. ] I'm totally immune.

[ but that question? easy answer. ] We leave as soon as you're ready.

[ there will be plenty of protests on the subject, without a doubt, but he isn't letting anyone keep zack trapped somewhere he doesn't want to be. not again, not ever. thinking about it is enough to make his expression grow serious, head tipping slightly to one side as he considers. ] You want me to go talk to 'em?

[exsurgo]

Oh, I'm ready! I don't have pants, but that's a problem for everybody else to deal with on their own terms.

[ Actually, the list of things he doesn't have is pretty short, if he thinks of it as:

1: everything

but somehow, that doesn't seem important right now. He's here, and Cloud's here, and he's getting out of hospital. Everything else is just details. And honestly, he's pretty impressed by Cloud. The sure, confident way he says they can blow the joint, the offer to go talk on Zack's behalf? It's what Zack always saw in him, just waiting to come to the surface.

And it's kinda hot. ]

[disheroic]

[ cue a snort at that problem. luckily, tseng is nothing if not meticulous, and he'd already addressed that issue before cloud had even had a chance to think of it. ]

There's some clothes in the bag. [ nodding towards a duffel bag parked on the chair in the corner as he stands up, circling around the bed and back to the chair he's been using as basecamp for the past few days. luckily, he can afford to travel pretty light, so there's not a ton to pack back up. ]

If you feel up to it, you can grab a shower while I'm talking to the doctors. It'll probably take a minute.

[exsurgo]

[ It's weird that the feeling of general grossness doesn't properly kick in until Cloud mentions taking a shower. Then, suddenly, he feels like he's covered in a think film of yuck. Not as much as he might have expected, though, and as far as he can tell he doesn't smell, which raises the mildly horrifying spectre of spongebaths.

Yeah, he's glad that Cloud seems all set to get him out of here before he speaks too much with a medical professional.

But just like with the water, once he's in the shower (with Cloud's assistance to get there) everything else is forgotten. There's a plastic chair in the shower stall but he resists using it, wanting to prove to himself that he doesn't have to. But there's enough to make sure that doesn't feel like a struggle; he washes his body and gives a little sigh of pleasure when he feels properly clean, washes his hair too and savors the feeling of his fingers against his scalp, the fresh feeling left behind. It's good, but it's also the first point at which the knowledge that he was out for three years feels real to him; every sensation is intense, to the point where he's sure he can feel individual soap bubbles popping on his skin.

And as intense as that is, he still spends only a very brief time in the chair, and it's more in the name of relaxing than needing it. And when he's done he picks out an outfit from the offerings in the bag, trying to be on his best behavior when he chooses jeans instead of sweats, even if he decides to complement that with a black tank. And then there's nothing to do but wait patiently as a watchdog for Cloud to return. ]