Disclaimer: Not mine…if they were Zack would still be alive….and with Aerith

Screams

Screams, he heard them all, there was not a moment he did not hear them. Sometimes he wondered if they were coming from him. He would feel his chest tighten and his throat would be sore, but he could never be sure if he was really screaming along with the others. Others, there were others, he didn't know how many, he didn't want to know, it would just add to the pain of this place. He did not even know where this place was. He had yet to open his eyes since being brought here. He wondered idly if he should. What would he see if he opened his eyes? Would it lessen his pain or intensify it? Would it do anything at all? He felt weightless, where ever he was, as if floating. Maybe he was for all he knew.

Am I dead, he thought. No, if he were dead he would not be able to feel the needles. Needles, he had lost count as to how many were in him, a good deal more then twenty. What ever they were pumping into him, it burned, burned through his body leaving it sore and useless. He could feel it seep into his muscles. He gently tried flexing his wrist, only to be greeted with a wave of white hot pain. His head felt as if it were about to burst, the pressure building up behind his eyes.

Why was this happening to him? What had he done to disserve this? He could never come up with answers to these questions that were always at the front of his mind. Suddenly the pressure seemed to leave, only darkness hung behind his closed eyes. He felt cold now, as if just walking out of a shower, the sudden chill as the air hits the warm wet body. Was he wet? Now that he thought about it, he almost did feel wet. A soft scrapping noise seemed to fill his ears, metal against metal. Just as quickly as it had come, the feeling of a breeze seemed to vanish. Odd, he thought to himself.

Then more noise, familiar noise, no screams, but voices all the same. Voices, people were talking. Were they talking to him? No they couldn't be, he was sleeping. Is that what he was doing, sleeping? No he wouldn't sleep standing up. Standing, he was standing, or at least suspended upright. He could not feel anything under his feet, come to think of it; he couldn't really feel his feet. He knew they were still there, at least he thought so. Suddenly the voices seemed to grow louder, easier to hear, as if someone had pulled head phones off his ears.

"He seems to be responding favorably to the latest form of injections."

A strong female voice spoke. Where they talking about him? Injections, the needles, the burning he was feeling. He was acting favorably to them? If he could have moved his hand he would have given her the bird for that comment.

"Should we try it on the young one as well?" The female continued.

Young one? Well, he knew he was not alone. Who was the young one? Did he know him?

"No. not at the moment." Came a strong baritone reply. "Give another dose to this one though in an hour."

"Of course Sir."

Another dose, he didn't want another does. It's time to open your eyes, he thought wearily to himself. He slowly, hesitantly cracked open his eyes. What he noticed first was the fact that he was indeed floating, in what appeared to be green gel. As his eyes came to adjust to the jell, he saw a figure moving around freely. The individual did not appear to be suspended as he was. The individual was outside, outside of where he was confined. He squinted his eyes slightly to try and made out exactly what he was contained in. from what he could make out it appeared to be a giant glass tube. A soft warmth began to run through his body seeming to generate from his chest and move out to extremities in waves. The pain seemed to ease somewhat. He experimentally flexed his hand again. This time there was no white hot pain, only a dull pain as if it had not been used in to long of a time. He flexed each finger individually, hearing the knuckles crack ever so slightly. He glanced down at his body for the first time and shuddered. His chest was covered with scars some old, some new. Needles, they were everywhere, covering his chest and arms, some even on his legs. He raised his eyes briefly to see if the person on the outside had noticed him movement. At the moment the individual seemed to be to absorbed with whatever it was they were doing.

He moved his hand up to his face, his fingers instantly coming in contact with a thick rubber tube. The tube appeared to be coming from his mouth. It was then that he realized his mouth was open holding the tube in place. As he swallowed experimentally, his throat constricted painfully around the tube. Food and oxygen, he thought to himself, so I wouldn't die on them, who ever they were. He brought his other hand up to his eye level and examined it closely. He could small cuts on his finger tips; he could not recall how he got them though. He glanced out into the room in front of him. The person, under closer observation turned out to be a woman, a young woman, with light brown hair, her head bowed over a computer screen, still did not notice his movement. Where she sat, directly across the room from where he was suspended were three desks, each with their own computer. Two were on. The wall above them was covered in glass cabinets, which seemed to be filled with chemicals, all of them labeled.

He slowly turned his head to the side. The sides of confined world where black preventing his eyes any glances as to what was next to him, they seemed to be made of a different substance then the rest of the confinement, they were metal. He heard the sound of metal scraping against metal and turned his attention forward again. The young woman was now standing, chart in hand. She slowly walked to the door. She paused for a moment to jot one last note into the file, and then left the room closing the door behind her.

He looked down at his body once again. The needles would be easy to remove; the tube would be more difficult. He reached out a hand and touched the edge of his containment. It felt smooth and cold, like glass. Maybe it was, only one way to find out. He pushed his body as far back as he could his back against the far wall of his confinement. He carefully lifted one of his legs, avoiding tangling it in the various wires and tubes hanging from his body. Then with one powerful kick he hit the glass. It cracked, some of the green liquid spilling out drop by drop. He glanced around the room again. No alarms were blaring, no flashing lights. He pulled his leg back and kicked the glass a second time. Cracks sprang across the surface of the glass like frost, suddenly shattering spilling the green gel and the man inside. He fell hard onto the floor having just enough time to brace his hands on the floor, preventing his head from slamming onto the metal floor. The needles were violently pulled from his body leaving bloody trails. He slowly pushed himself up until he was on his knees, his body shaking from the exertion. He grasped the tube that still hung from his mouth. He pulled it out with one quick stroke, filling his mouth with bile. He vomited onto the floor in front of him, coughing violently. His eyes burned as the air hit then drawing tears to his eyes.

After the coughing fit seemed to dissipate, he glanced around at the room once more. Still no alarms sounded, it seemed for now he was safe from anyone finding him. He weakly rose to his feet, standing still for a moment to gain his bearings. He glanced at one of the desks, noting a file sitting on top. He took a step towards the desk, his legs swayed and he fell once again to the floor.

"Fuck." He muttered.

It was as if he had not used his legs in years, the muscles stubbornly not willing to work with him. He slowly pushed himself back up.

He plucked the file off the desk.

"Subject Zackary." He read allowed.

Zack, that name sounded oddly familiar. He opened the folder, and was greeted by a large picture of man. The man was young, early twenties, standing tall, rigid almost staring straight into the camera, unruly black hair standing up in all directions. His face for the most part seemed to lack any emotion, except for the eyes, deep purple; they held a mischievous glint to them, as if the man was plotting. The man in the photo also seemed to be wearing a uniform.

"Huh." He muttered.

He starred at the photo for a few moments; taking the man's features in. he glanced up at one on glass cabinets lining the wall above the desks. The face that looked back at him was thin, dark circles surrounded deep purple eyes, long dark damp hair clinging to his skin. His eyes traveled down to the photo in his hands then back to the glass. He looked almost the same except for the eyes, they no longer held the sparkle, and his face was also a little thinner, the hollows of his cheeks deeper.

"Must be me." He said, snapping the chart shut and tossing it in the general direction of the desk.

He glanced back up the glass to look at his reflection once more. Yes, he was Zack, he could remember it now. He was twenty three and was a SOLDIER first class, was being the operative word. From the looks of his current state, he was nothing more than a guinea pig. His eyes suddenly caught the reflection of another human in the room, not on the floor with him but in a containment tank. He turned to look at the wall behind him.

The wall was lined with three containment tanks. Only one other tank in the room was occupied, the other appeared to have been vacated recently, the remnants of the green liquid still wet at the bottom of the containment. He took a slow hesitant step towards the occupied tank to get a closer look, remaining mindful of the broken glass scattered across the floor. The poor soul appeared to be no more than a child, a good four inches shorter than himself. His build was a good deal smaller than his, his ribs sticking out farther than what Zack would consider healthy. The boys head was covered by long blond hair, bangs covering the youths face from view. The youth's body was covered in the same needles that had restrained him, a breathing apparatus attached to his mouth as well. Even from what little Zack could make out he could not but feel a since of familiarity to the boy.

"Who are you?" Zack questioned.

Of course the youth did not respond, not that Zack had actually expected him too.

The youths body twitched in the liquid every so slightly, moving the hair from his face.

Zack felt his heart suddenly sink as he took in the youths face fully. The young one, yes he knew him. He slowly approached the glass, not noticing the glass on the floor piercing the bottoms of his feet. He gently placed his hand against the glass.

"Cloud." He whispered.

Cloud eyes were closed tightly his brow furled in pain.

"Cloud!" Zack called louder.

Cloud remained silent and motionless.

"Cloud!" He pounded his fist against the glass.

Still no response came.

Zack took a step back to eye the containment properly, his eyes quickly coming in contact with what appeared to be a control bar, at the base of the containment, near the floor. He kneeled down before it and eyed it wearily.

"Well this doesn't help me." He muttered. He glanced behind him, back at the desks, his eyes settling on a metal chair pushed into one of the desks.

"I'll just get you out the old fashioned way."

He walked over and plucked the chair off the floor, then approached Cloud's tank.

"You ready?"

Cloud made no sign of acknowledgement so Zack took that as a yes.

"You might want to move back."

Zack threw the chair into the glass with all his strength, hearing it shatter under the chair.

Clouds body fell heavily out of the tank and onto the floor. Zack quickly rushed to his side.

"Sorry." He said, eyeing his young friend.

He rolled Cloud onto his back. Most of the needles had come out when the glass had broken, but the respirator was still in.

"This is going to hurt." Zack warned him.

He gently placed one hand on Clouds chest, the other gripping the tube. He pulled the tube out fast, but not as harshly as he had done to himself. Cloud coughed violently. Zack quickly rolled him onto his stomach supporting as he emptied his stomach contents onto the ground. Once Cloud appeared to be done, Zack hoisted him up into his arms and carried him over towards the desks across the room. He used on of his feet and pried on of the chairs out from the desk and set Cloud into it. He kneeled down in front of the youth eyeing him carefully.

"You doing better Spiky?"

Cloud made no response.

"Yeah, that tube was a bitch. I threw up too, more than you even."

He reached out a hand and ruffled Clouds damp hair affectionately. He could see clouds body shaking, realizing for the first time how barren they truly were. He scanned the room, his eyes finally landing on one lone lab coat on a chair. He quickly gathered the coat and put it around Cloud.

"That will have to do for now."

He eyed Cloud for a moment. "Not to flattering is it?"

He turned from Cloud and eyed the door thoughtfully. No alarms had sounded when the glass had broken out of the containments, that however did not mean that the door would not have a security system. Also if he used the door it would increase his chance of being spotted. He glanced up at the ceiling, eyeing it carefully, his eyes finally resting on a vent against the fare wall between the tanks and the desks. He grabbed one of the desk chairs and pulled it under the vent.

"This looks promising."

He climbed up onto the chair. The vent wasn't by any means a big one, but if they tried they could get through. He ran his fingers lightly across the metal.

"What do you think?" Zack asked eyes glancing to Cloud.

Again, no response.

"Yeah, but what other option do we have."

He pulled his fist back and smashed it through the center of the metal grated vent cover. He slowly retracted his hand feeling the metal bite into his skin.

"I know, but I couldn't think of anything better to use."

With both hands he bent the metal grating back. He examined his work silently for a moment before speaking.

"This will have to do for know."

He glanced back over at Cloud.

"How are you holding up?"

The youths head was hanging, his chin resting against his chest, eye closed. From what Zack could tell he was asleep, his face relaxed for now.

He glanced between the now open vent and the sleeping boy. If he brought Cloud with him while he searched for clothes it would slow him down considerably. But on the other hand if he left him here someone could walk in and find him lose, and Cloud was in no shape to defend himself. He hopped down from the chair walked over to where Cloud sat. He reached down hooking an arm under and around Cloud pulling him to his feet.

Cloud let out a moan in protest as Zack pulled him towards the vent.

"Sorry Spiky can't leave you here."

He picked Cloud up and threw him over one shoulder as he climbed onto the chair. He pushed his head into the vent. The vent tunnel was much bigger then the vent opening itself, definitely big enough for two. He carefully pushed Cloud into the vent first, and then climbed in after him.

He pulled Cloud up next to him wrapping one of Clouds arms around his neck, his own wrapping around his waist. He pulled them along for a while until finally stopping at another vent opening.

"Let's see what we have down here."

He set cloud down, leaning him gently against the side of the vent, and crawled over to the opening. The room seemed to be a storage room, filled with boxes upon boxes, all labeled. Zack listened for a moment. After hearing nothing suspicious punched the vent out, quick reflexes catching the panel before it could hit the ground. He turned back to Cloud.

"I'll be right back."

He jumped soundlessly to the floor, landing perfectly on his feet. He walked owner the closest row of boxes and began examining labels. They were names, alphabetized. Curious, he opened one of the boxes and peered inside. The box held a complete uniform, a SOLDIER uniform, along with regulation boots, a wallet and a watch. Zack picked up the watch, examining it closer, his eyes catching what appeared to be an engraving.

"To Daddy love Lisa." He read aloud.

Zack dropped the watch back into the box and closed it, if this poor souls personal belongings where here, maybe theirs were too. He scanned the boxes until eventually finding his name. Not bothering to check the contents he walked back over to the vent and hoisted the box up.

"Incoming!" he called to Cloud.

He turned back to the rows of boxes.

"Where is Strife?"

He found Cloud's box at the end of one of the isles, opening it to ensure Cloud's uniform was inside.

"Perfect."

He walked back to the vent and crawled back inside.

"They kept our stuff." He said in way of greeting to Cloud.

"That was awfully nice of them."

He pulled open his box examining the contents. His wallet lay atop his uniform. He picked it up and opened it; he was immediately greeted with a picture of a young woman, brown hair framing her face, with a pink bow, bright blue eyes and a wide smile. Zack felt his heart skip a beat. He remembered her; she was Aerith, his girlfriend. He

missed her. Zack sighed idly running a finger across the picture.

"I'll see you soon." He promised.

He closed the wallet and set it down, pulling out his uniform. The uniform was in perfect condition, as if it was never worn. He leaned close and sniffed it wearily, the sent of a summer meadow filling his nose.

Zack snorted.

"Nice of them to wash them for us too." He muttered.

He quickly dressed himself, and then set about dressing Cloud. It took then he had expected to dress Cloud, seeing as Cloud appeared to be deep asleep at the moment, his body was dead weight. After making sure Cloud was properly dressed Zack threw the lab coat behind them and pulled Cloud back over his shoulder.

"Come on," he said pulling them forward once again. "Let's find an exit."