Chapter Sixty-Four: In Those We Trust

Author's Note: Fuck, Marry, or Kill is "A game that is played in a group. One person gets three names chosen by the group. The names are people he/she knows or it could be celebrities. Then that person chooses which of those three he/she would fuck, marry, and kill." (source: Urban Dictionary)

For example: If I were to choose between Angeal, Sephiroth, and Genesis, I would:

Marry Angeal

Fuck Sephiroth

and Kill Genesis.

It happened in under two seconds. It was like the feeling of being in a car and hitting a dip in a smooth road while traveling at a high speed—a sharp plunge followed by a sensation of weightlessness. But there was no feeling of returning to the level road as the car continued on. What followed was further descent.

Cloud went limp and fell against him just as Zack felt his own consciousness dipping away. The sounds of the children playing in the park was now muffled and fading, and the sound of Cloud's panic now silenced.

Zack saw darkness even before his eyelids sank closed. He was falling forward, crumpling over himself, but all he could think about was the weight of Cloud's body now gone. There was no time to fight the impending stillness.

"Whoops! Caught you in the crossfire," said a voice. It was familiar and comforting, but somewhere in Zack's struggling mind he felt a sense of guilt when he heard it.

He could feel a hand on his chest, gently easing him against the backrest of the bench. Then the weight of Cloud's body returned to lean against his with momentary relief, as he could feel his warm and steady breath on his shoulder. It was enough to begin stirring Zack back into consciousness. It seemed like minutes dragged along before he was able to open his eyes, and perhaps it was, for when his vision stabilized enough to see his surroundings, he saw Kunsel standing in front of him in wait.

"Ah, good. You're comin' outta it," he said, squatting down to assess Zack's condition. He made a quick glance to Cloud, but seemed more concerned on Zack awaking first.

"Ssssleepel?" Zack slurred. He shook his head slowly, the final heaviness of the sleep spell dwindling.

"Low level. Didn't wanna make the entire playground of kiddos fall asleep." Kunsel shifted Cloud away from Zack to allow him to straighten as he roused further. "But something had to be done before Cloud lost it in public. Imagine the scandal that would make."

Zack's gaze rolled over to Cloud. He focused his thoughts on him to keep himself steady, much like a dancer spotting as they would spin in place. He was about to ask Kunsel just how he knew where to find them, but Kunsel continued talking as if he had read his mind.

"Yeah," he said casually, "I was in my quarters and overheard all the commotion."

Zack tried to frown his disapproval, but stopped when Kunsel, again, spoke as if reading his mind.

"Of course I had to follow."

It wasn't much longer before Zack was on his feet and facing Cloud's body posed on the bench in helplessness. Zack, too, felt as vulnerable, and now at a loss of what to do.

Kunsel seemed to be doing enough thinking for the three of them. He was already hoisting Cloud over his shoulders in a firefighter's lift and looking for a way out of the park with the fewest amount of prying eyes. He muttered under his breath about how light the boy was before adjusting him and opting to just parade through the civilians sitting on the other benches.

Zack followed, watching the parents as some stood up upon their approach, and some looked as though they were going to demand an explanation as to why three young men were hanging around a playground without any children of their own. Kunsel had set such a purposeful stride that no one dared to say or do anything in the end.

They made their way back to Sector 0. Neither spoke to one another. When they reached headquarters, Kunsel moved at a cautious pace and stuck close to the sides of the compound until they slipped onto the maintenance road leading toward the stairwell. The door had no outer handle, meant only to allow employees out of the building, and not into it. Kunsel signaled for Zack to open it.

Zack found the door was ajar enough to slip his fingertips between the door and jamb. He ran his hand down until he felt the strike plate and pulled. The door creaked open, and something dropped to the ground with a light scuffling sound. Zack picked up a small scrap of cardboard, folded a few times for a custom bulk to serve its purpose in propping open a door as inconspicuously as possible. It was battered around the edges and held various indents from previous uses. Kunsel nodded down to his pocket, instructing Zack to slip it back in where it most likely always stayed for such an occasion. Zack complied, dipping his hands into Kunsel's pocket to return the simplistic tool to its creator.

The ascent through the stairwell was made as cautiously as entering the compound. Kunsel moved as though he were gliding up each step. All SOLDIERs moved with certain grace, but Kunsel did so in a way that was almost phantasmal. Even as he carried Cloud's dead weight upon his shoulders, his footsteps made nary a noise. Zack observed from behind, watching as Kunsel moved with a toe-to-heel strike, although never allowing his heel to fully roll to the floor. It was a very practiced gait, one that was perhaps so ingrained that it became his default.

Somewhere above them, a door opened and footsteps could be heard. Kunsel ceased to move and to breathe. He waited and listened for how many steps were being taken, and by how many people. There were voices mixed in with the footsteps, both from women who were engaged in a game of Fuck, Marry, or Kill about their fellow colleagues from whichever department they worked. Zack noted, slightly amused, that the Kill responses seemed to come easier than the others. Their voices disappeared behind the closing of a door. Kunsel remained statuesque until he was satisfied no one was lurking in the stairwell. He signaled for Zack to continue, and they made the rest of their long ascent to the 1st Class SOLDIER floor.

Kunsel paid no mind to the destruction in the kitchen area, and instead entered Zack's bedroom. He seemed to hesitate at the foot of the bed, glancing from each side. He made a quick decision and placed Cloud down on the side he did, indeed, use. The collection of prescription bottles on the bedside table was more than enough to confirm his guess, Zack surmised.

They removed Cloud's now filthy socks, and both his hands and feet were inspected for lingering grit and injury. The scrapes on his palms were cleaned and covered, the sweat and dried tears wiped from his face. He was feverish, so the two removed his clothing down to his underwear and opted to leave a single sheet on him.

Zack caught a slight twitch in Kunsel's already furrowed brow when he saw just how atrophied Cloud's body was. But the reaction was as gone as fast as it came, and instead relaxed as he turned to exit into the living room. Zack lingered by Cloud's side for a moment longer before following Kunsel.

He was already stooping down in the kitchen, picking up the shredded papers and turning them over, inspecting them. He took note of the missing drawer, then the shattered pieces of wood lying about among the documents.

"I ordered you to stay out of this," Zack said curtly.

Kunsel had the drawer handle in his hand now, which he used to point at Zack. "With all due respect, sir," he said with venom, "you can shove that order up your shapely ass."

Zack said nothing, his previous threat stripped of its clout and now reduced to being as useful as the broken remains of the drawer. He grumbled and squatted down, helping Kunsel clean everything up.

Once the mess was cleared, Kunsel helped himself to a bowl of chili and seated himself on the kitchen island. He ate with deliberate idleness, waiting for Zack to do or say something. At one point he remarked that the food was good, and that Zack's cooking had vastly improved from its usual burnt quality, but shrugged to himself when Zack, again, had no response.

Instead, Zack peeked into his bedroom, watching Cloud as he slept. His hand went to feel for the pill in his pocket he kept for the exact scenario which occurred. It had unfolded too quickly, and now Zack was left to wonder just how he would get Cloud to take a pill when in such a state of panic. He shut the door, then rested his head against it with a defeated sigh. He could feel Kunsel's eyes on his back, so he pushed himself away and turned to face him.

"I keep telling him that it's okay," Zack found himself blurting.

Kunsel's slumped posture straightened, but he continued to eat and observe.

"Whenever he panics like that," Zack continued. "All I can ever think to do and say is to tell him that it's okay, or it's all right … that he's okay and all right, even though he's clearly not. And me? I freeze up. I'm useless." Zack let out a dry laugh. "I'm starting to think I'm just telling myself that it's okay when it happens."

"Y'know," Kunsel finally said, looking down at his food and sifting through to find a chunk of beef. "When my littlest sister was two, my ma and da … erm, dad, I mean," he said, correcting himself for some unknown reason, "well, they told me to not say 'it's okay' to her if she were upset. Because it wasn't okay. Not to her in her world where emotions were enormous and raw." He took a moment to chew the meat. "I mean, think about it: There are a lot of big emotions in such a wee human."

Zack stood there, stunned. It had never occurred to him that Kunsel would have a sister, let alone any family at all. It was hard to picture the man coming from some nuclear family; he had always just assumed Kunsel was the spawn of a library and the internet, and then instantly manifested as a young adult.

"You have a sister?" Zack finally stammered out, flabbergasted.

Kunsel nodded vigorously until he finished chewing and could speak. "Four sisters, to be precise. One of which is my twin." He looked to Zack, then let out a hearty laugh at the incredulous face staring at him. "Hard to believe there's two of me, eh? The gods forbid." He grinned. "Anyway, my parents said that by tellin' my sister that everything was okay, it would undermine what she was feeling. It would sow doubt in her. It would make her feel like she didn't understand herself, or that what she was feeling was wrong. Y'know, it'd make her question herself."

"So what would you tell her?"

"Well," Kunsel said, setting the bowl to the side and looking upward as if accessing his stored memory; perhaps it was something he hadn't thought about in a long time. "If she was scared, I'd say something like, 'I see that you're scared.' If she were angry, I'd say 'I know you're angry.' If I saw she was in pain, I'd acknowledged it. It would give her the words she needed to express herself, and also validate her emotions."

"But Cloud isn't a kid. And what he's going through is more than a scraped knee or imagining a monster under the bed."

"No, he's not a little kid," Kunsel confirmed, speaking firmly. "And I don't think you should infantilize your responses to him, or the way you treat him. But look at it this way: His brain? It's screwed up."

Zack didn't feel himself glaring, but he must have for Kunsel shifted on the counter and grinned again, but this time warily.

"Whoa, now hear me out first before you throw any punches. Cloud's brain right now is haywire. It's more than messy cable management in a computer. I'm talkin' the circuits on his motherboard have been routed wrong and now the whole damn thing's fried. If he's gettin' input from his brain that makes no sense, input from Bleier on how to feel or what to think, and gettin' you saying 'it's okay', then what—rather who—is he supposed to believe?"

Zack looked to the trashcan which was now full to brim of torn papers and the broken drawer.

"You gotta validate him, man. Because everythin' else around him, including his own thoughts? It's undermining him."

"And then what? What do I do after I acknowledge what he's feeling? It's not like I can really help when he's that far gone."

Kunsel picked up his bowl again and scraped along the sides and bottom for the last remaining bits. He sat in thought while he did this, frowning a little as he was having trouble scooping up a few stray beans. "Get him to focus on something not in his head. Something tangible, not cerebral."

Zack let out a breath he had been holding in wait. "Like what? What the hell can I possibly say to him that could grab his attention?"

"I dunno, man, like," he said before quickly giving the spoon a final lick. "Like remind him of the wind on his face, or the weight of his clothes on his body. Have him focus on your breathing and try to get him to match it. Put your hand on him and have him concentrate on that." He shrugged. "If he's standing, have him focus on the feeling of the ground beneath his feet. Dictate the sensations aloud. Hell, it might even help keep you calm while dealing with him."

Zack took the bowl from Kunsel and set it in the sink. He placed his hands on the counter and hung his head, letting out a prolonged sigh that did nothing to relieve the heaviness in his chest. He juggled this new information through his head, but found himself unable to process it, or even decide if it would be of any practical use in such a frenzied moment.

"How come you never told me you had a family?" Zack finally asked, turning around and leaning against the counter to watch as Kunsel frowned thoughtfully.

"Well," he started slowly, "because according to Shin-Ra, they don't exist. You're the only person inside this company who now knows."

Zack jerked his head back in confusion until Kunsel continued.

"If you check my file, it says I'm an orphan from the slums. Some real sob story I made up, too. And if you check the orphanage? Their files will confirm the same thing."

"You fabricated your own file?" Zack asked in shock, although somewhere in his mind he knew he shouldn't have expected any less from this man.

"I knew coming into this gig that anything can be used as leverage against me … including my own loved ones," Kunsel said solemnly. He offered a sympathetic smile, but it more resembled a grimace than anything else.

Zack squeezed his eyes shut at Kunsel's words and the hidden meaning. "Yeah," he murmured. "I'm starting to realize that now."

And a little too late, he thought.

They checked on Cloud together, both growing concerned with the fever wracking his body. After announcing that he would be back, in his all too casually mysterious way, Kunsel left. To where, Zack was unsure.

He opened up his bedroom window shortly after, allowing for the cool air to flow in. It was autumn, and with the season brought crisp air, perhaps slightly cleaner than usual for Midgar. He pulled back the sheet to Cloud's hip, frowning as he could feel Cloud's body heat escaping, like being blasted with heat after opening the door on a wood burning stove. He watched as Cloud gave a shudder in response, his skin prickling with goosebumps, despite being covered in sweat.

A part of him was relieved that Cloud continued to sleep. He was fearing having to face him now that the truth about Kalm was revealed. All the lies that they each had built around it were now nullified, yet it felt like a safer place to be than to be in the front lines of such a dangerous truth. An even smaller, darker part of him hoped that Cloud wouldn't remember any of what had just transpired.

Zack shook his head, chastising himself for even thinking of such a horrible thought. He resigned to busying himself by attempting to call Dr. Arolin again.

The door opened some time later, and Kunsel returned carrying a few bags from the drugstore. He sat down on the bed next to Cloud and pulled out a box of children's oral suspension for pain and fever. Zack questioned why use a children's dose, to which Kunsel motioned to Cloud's skeletal frame without a word.

He gave the bottle a shake and poured twenty milliliters into the provided measuring cup. "I wasn't sure which flavor to pick, so I ended up picking cherry," he said, concentrating on getting a precise measurement. "Now let's hope he wakes up long enough to give it to him."

"Can't we just pour it into his mouth and rub his throat?" Zack asked.

"If you wanna cause him to aspirate it, then sure. Be my guest." Kunsel shot him a frown which said that Zack should've known better.

Zack fidgeted, feeling foolish for suggesting such a thing.

Kunsel called Cloud's name a few times, each time growing sharper and louder. He gave his shoulder a shake, then tapped his cheek. "Sleepel should've worn off by now. Is he usually this hard to wake up?" he eventually asked after one too many failed attempts.

"Yeah, lately," Zack said with an air of confidence, which quickly deflated upon realizing that that shouldn't have been such an easy answer to give. "All he does is sleep, and not even smelling salts or a Remedy gets him up."

"Are we sure he's sleeping at this point?" Kunsel asked with frightening seriousness.

The question was a punch to Zack's gut. It knocked the wind out of him, and he felt himself wobbling on his feet. He found the edge of the bed and sat down before he toppled into his dresser.

"Wh-What, like he's …" Zack trailed off, unable to say any of the ideas floating in his mind.

Kunsel only offered a shrug, as if he, too, were afraid to speak ideas aloud. But he turned to the bottles of prescriptions on the bedside table, reading each of them and retaining the names in his mind. "A benzo, huh?"

"A what?"

"Benzodiazepine," Kunsel said with expert ease, motioning to the anti-anxiety medication. "That could knock him out easily, once it hits."

"I didn't give him any," Zack said, giving his pocket a light touch to confirm that the pill he knew was still in there, was indeed still in there. "But maybe Dr. Bleier did."

Kunsel turned to him with a single eyebrow arched in an almost villaianous way. "Bleier, you say?"

Zack nodded in thought. "Every time he comes back from one of his sessions, Cloud's utterly sapped. Dead on his feet. Like a mindless zombie shuffling around. It doesn't take long for him to crash once he gets back here."

"Interesting," was all Kunsel said, but Zack could tell the gears were turning in his brain, as usual.

Now both men were deep in thought. Kunsel still held the measuring cup in his hand, swirling it around mindlessly as if swirling a scotch.

"Although," Zack eventually drawled. He frowned and looked to Cloud. "He's been like this for a while. Even before seeing Dr. Bleier. I figured it was his way of … coping. And healing after … after everything that's happened to him."

"It could be," Kunsel said, now trying to rouse Cloud once more. "It could very well be an escape. It could be a number of things, honestly."

"Or everything at once," Zack muttered.

Kunsel responded with a humming sigh. He shifted his body towards Cloud, slipping his hand beneath his head and lifting it. "Help me sit him up, will ya?"

They both worked together to prop Cloud upwards. Zack caught his chin right as his head began flopping down. He lowered it gently, then retracted his hand once he realized it had lingered for a little too long.

Kunsel didn't seem to take notice, or at least he didn't react.

It was agreed upon to carry Cloud to the infirmary if he didn't wake up soon. If he took the medication and his fever didn't break, there would be no more avoiding the infirmary.

It took a while longer of calling his name and shaking him, but Cloud eventually opened his eyes halfway and accepted the liquid medicine without resistance. He sputtered, then he was out again.

They both sighed with relief.

"Good call on the flavor," Zack said, looking down at the medicine.

"I, uh, had a hunch."

After about thirty minutes, Cloud gave one last shudder, but this was from his fever breaking. They celebrated this small victory by moving out into the living room and sharing a few stouts together that Kunsel had also purchased. Zack chugged at the bottle gratefully, if not a little desperately.

"Liquid medicine for everyone," Kunsel had declared, holding up his beer as if giving a toast.

They finished off the six pack between the two of them with impressive speed. Through belches, hiccups, and pauses to suck down every last drop, they conversed almost like how they used to before everything went to shit. They bantered and joked, talked a little more about Kunsel's family—which Zack was still reeling at the concept—and everything felt unhindered.

At least, for a little while.

A silence formed toward the end of their third beer, and with it brought that feeling of guilt Zack had felt at the playground. He looked to Kunsel, who was resting his elbows on his knees, staring down at the beer bottle in his hands as if he were weighing words in his mind with care. Zack was about to speak, to apologize for refusing his help weeks before.

"I'm not gonna stay outta it," Kunsel said before Zack could open his mouth. "You can order me all you want, but I'm not gonna let you go through this alone." He looked over to Zack's bedroom and to Cloud's sleeping body on the bed. "Either of you."

"Kunsel," Zack began, but stopped when Kunsel held up his hand.

"Do you trust me, Zack?"

"You're the only one I trust," Zack said with every ounce of sincerity he had.

"Then accept my help."

In the end, Zack needn't give an apology. He only nodded, and that was enough for Kunsel.

"Good," he said, setting his beer down on the coffee table and then standing up while rubbing his hands together. "Time for more medicine."

Zack wasn't sure if he meant for Cloud, but he grinned as Kunsel moved to the kitchen and pulled out yet another six pack of stout.

Cloud was given a second dose about four hours later, once Zack and Kunsel had finished theirs doses. Again it took great effort to rouse him enough to have him sip at the medicine, but they managed. He seemed more at ease now, and even turned onto his side and collected the blankets about his body as if swaddling himself.

Despite this, Kunsel announced he was going to spend the night in case they needed him for anything.

They devoured the rest of the chili, their appetites as big as the buzz they had going. Even after licking their bowls clean, one of them had mentioned the notion of grabbing some greasy, sinful McMoogles, and then that was all they could talk about for a good ten minutes.

It felt invigorating for Zack to be having a conversation in which the participant spoke more than five words an hour. It was a relief to not have to choose his words carefully, feeling as though one wrong word or phrase would cause a meltdown. He was in dire need of normal interactions with another stable individual, he realized.

Maybe this was what Kunsel meant by medicine.

Zack did feel better, at least for the time being. He was grateful Kunsel was there to help carry the burden of both Cloud's infirmity, and his own waning capacity to handle everything. If Kunsel could take the reins, if even for a little while, Zack knew it would help refresh his outlook and his own mental stability.

Their lighthearted conversation shifted as their buzzes wore off and as they grew tired in the late hour. Despite the sobering, Zack felt relieved enough to talk about Cloud and everything that had transpired in the previous weeks since he last spoke with Kunsel. He told him about Cloud's confusion and memory loss, of every panic attack he had, and how the incident today had been the most intense breakdown of all. He admitted, even though it pained him to do so, that ever since coming under Dr. Bleier's care, Cloud's condition worsened at a frightening rate, but that Bleier himself had nothing to say of it except that it takes time.

He pulled out his phone as he spoke, checking to see if he had any missed calls from Dr. Arolin, and he used that as an opportunity to vent about her sudden withdraw from involvement, and how even Cloud had tried to seek her out at the playground.

Kunsel listened in his usual fashion—allowing Zack to speak without interruption, and without any expression or reaction until after Zack was finished. He gathered all the information given to him first, assessed it in a matter of seconds, asked his follow-up questions, assessed those answers, then allowed himself a thoughtful nod. He must have come to some sort of decision or conclusion, for he leaned back and spread both arms along the back of the couch in a show of confidence.

"When is Cloud's next appointment?" was all he asked.

"Wednesday, 3 PM," Zack said, tilting his head to the side in hesitant curiosity. "What're you planning?"

"To kill two birds with one stone," was all he said before spinning himself on the couch and flopping backwards to lie on it. He raised his legs into the air to untie his boots, then tossed them to the side before lying flat. Zack wondered why he didn't remove his boots first, then lie down, but then again Zack had his own set of weird quirks.

Zack opened his mouth to inquire further, but Kunsel then turned his head to look at him, again as if he could read his mind; it was becoming a little unnerving.

"Trust me," he said before wiggling himself into a better position on the couch and closing his eyes.

Zack watched him for a bit, a small sense of unease clambering to the surface of his nerves. He rubbed his face in his hands before he resigned himself to lying on the floor in front of the television. He lay sprawled out, staring up at the ceiling for a while, tired but unable to grasp any thread of sleep.

"Why aren't you in your bed?" Kunsel asked after some time, his voice steady as though he, too, was having trouble sleeping.

"I, uh … don't share a bed with another dude." Zack winced at his own words, both from it being a lie, and because it sounded absolutely ridiculous coming from his mouth.

He was more shocked to hear Kunsel stammer in response; stammering was something of which Kunsel seemed incapable.

"You," Kunsel said, not trying to hide his exasperation. "You don't like to share your bed with another dude."

"Well, I mean—" Zack started, but Kunsel cut him off with mild hostility.

"Since when are you, Mr. Touchy Feely, Mr. Pally Wally, against sharing a bed with a close friend?"

"It's not like—"

"So you mean to tell me you've been sleeping on your couch this entire time you've been caring for Cloud?"

It was Zack's turn to stammer. Kunsel's voice was growing more hostile with each question he fired at him.

"I thought you said you trusted me?"

"I do—"

"Do you fully trust me, Zack?"

"What does trust have anything to do with where I sleep at night?" Zack said loudly, putting a finality to the interrogation Kunsel was suddenly dragging him through.

Kunsel sat up with an astonished sigh. He slapped his hands to his knees, glaring at Zack through the darkness of the night. He only shook his head at him with his mouth set in a thin line.

Zack didn't return the look. He continued to stare up at the ceiling.

Eventually Kunsel put on his boots and stood. He walked to the front door and paused before saying over his shoulder, "I'd hate to keep you from your bed. Call me if you need anything." And he left.

Zack waited to get up. It felt easier to lie there in a false sense of confusion than to have to stand and process what had just transpired between them.

He scooped himself to his feet and entered his room where Cloud still lay entangled in the blankets. He was on his side, but his upper body was contorted to where his face lay buried in his pillow. Zack helped to ease him onto his back. Cloud went willingly, but by no account loosened his grip on the blankets surrounding him. He made no sound nor movement when Zack lay his hand upon his forehead to check his temperature, nor when Zack leaned down and kissed him on the lips. He caught a trace of the medicine on his own lips when he pulled away, and he licked it until it was gone.

He sat down on his side of the bed, facing the open window. Somewhere directly below he heard a door shut harshly. Kunsel must have made it back to his quarters, still carrying with him the annoyance, and perhaps even feelings of betrayal. Zack fished out his phone from his pocket with an urge to call him and apologize, but thought better of it when he thought he heard something else slam below him.

Kunsel had entrusted in him his biggest secret: That he had family; that he had loved ones that he kept hidden away from Shin-Ra and everyone else for their protection.

And Zack could not bring himself to do the same.

He set his phone down on his bedside table. His hand bumped into something small, knocking it over. He picked it up and straightened it out, turning it a bit in what little moonlight there was in his room. It was the honey pot of cherry-flavored lube. It had been sitting out in plain view.

Embarrassed and ashamed, Zack slapped it into the drawer, then crawled into bed.

Zack entered Dr. Bleier's office at 9 AM sharp. This time he was empty-handed; there had been no salvaging the report which Cloud had torn to shreds. Piecing it back together and taping it whole would only arise more suspicion than simply stating that he had spilled coffee on it. Regardless, the report was now down a garbage chute and was rendered useless either way.

He had to wait for fifteen minutes for Dr. Bleier to exit his office. Zack was in no way scared or intimidated by this man, but he grew nervous, hoping that his excuse would be enough to suffice for the week. After all, he had been diligent with turning in all the other reports for the past several weeks.

Dr. Bleier was leaning close to the receptionist as she explained to him that Zack was there, hoping to get in a word. His long face rose to consider Zack, then nodded to the receptionist. She slid back in her chair and began to pull papers from a filing cabinet with practiced ease.

Zack stood when Dr. Bleier greeted him and invited him into his office. He followed him, having to jog a few steps to keep up with the man's swift pace. He allowed Zack to enter first, then shut the door behind him. Zack had wished he had left the door open, for Dr. Bleier's office was anything but welcoming.

To call it utilitarian would have been an overstatement. This was cold and sterile, far more than the practicality of the infirmary or the simplest of bathrooms in the building. There was a metal desk in the middle of the room with its entire surface bare, save for a small clock ticking away. There were no picture frames of family on it, no desk blotter, no stapler nor tape dispenser, not even a cup of writing implements.

The couch in the room was of an unremarkable brown, with fabric so boring that the texture looked as though it up and left. The style of the couch itself only contained any curves or shape to differentiate itself from a stack of boxes. The walls even seemed to be void of any stucco, and in fact Zack was fairly certain the drywall underneath had more character. There was a bookcase against the wall behind the desk, but looked more like a metal storage shelf one would use in a garage to store tools or dusty sports equipment. The books on the shelf were similar in color and style that for a minute, Zack had thought the spines were facing the back until he saw the titles.

And with the exception of Zack, and Dr. Bleier himself, there was no trace of life in the room at all. No plants, no color, not even a desk lamp fitted with a warm white light bulb to simulate the serenity of a sunset.

"How may I help you today, Mr. Fair? I've been informed you don't have the report with you this morning." Dr. Bleier moved past Zack in a way which was silent and didn't cause a breeze, as if not even air existed in this vast emptiness.

Zack watched as he went behind his desk and sat, then gestured for Zack to do the same on the couch. Zack continued to stand. "I spilled coffee on it this morning," he said. To his ears, it sounded as convincing as if he had claimed that his dog had eaten his homework. "So I've got nothing to turn in this morning."

"My receptionist is putting together a new one for you now. You may give it to me no later than noon today. Did you have something else you wish to speak to me about?"

The man got right to the point, Zack would give him that.

"Cloud's come down with a cold or somethin'. He won't be able to come on Wednesday," Zack said, this time with more conviction.

"I'm sorry to hear that Mr. Strife is unwell, but he has no choice."

"No choice," Zack repeated under his breath, then scoffed. He folded his arms across his chest then, shifting his weight on his legs to show Dr. Bleier that he was unwilling to budge.

"The common cold has no cure and will resolve on its own, even if the symptoms are left untreated. The same can't be said for Mr. Strife's psychological health. That is why it's imperative he make it to every one of his scheduled appointments."

"That's bullshit.

You think forcing him to come here when he's not feeling good physically will help him feel better mentally? You're backwards, pal."

Dr. Bleier leaned back in his chair, lifting his chin in his own show of obstinacy. "I assure you, I have Mr. Strife's best interest in mind. I am working very hard at helping him. I even opened up my office to him on Sundays so he can come when it's quieter."

"Guilt trips don't work on me, doc."

"I'd be disappointed if they did, Mr. Fair."

Zack let a few moments pass. He pointed his finger toward Dr. Bleier, but not directly at him, and shook his hand as he spoke. "You want the truth, doc? I don't think you're helping Cloud. I think you're making him worse."

"Now that's quite the accusation," Dr. Bleier said with amused intrigue. "If you have any complaints that you'd like addressed, I can direct you to the head of the Science department. You're familiar with Dr. Hojo, yes?"

Zack shifted on his feet, his hand drooping downward. "Unfortunately, yeah, we've met."

"Unfortunate indeed," Dr. Bleier said. He leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers together. "You see, he's a rather cantankerous department head. He's not fond of being bothered with matters of triviality. They're far beneath him. Especially matters involving a mere cadet."

"A mere cadet?" Zack parroted, but with far more acrimony. "Is that how you see Cloud? Just a mere cadet?"

Dr. Bleier now turned his palms upward to imitate humility. "My intention was to paint a picture of his view, Mr. Fair. It's far better to hear it from me than from Dr. Hojo himself."

"You're saying all this to misdirect me. It's not gonna work."

"Then what will work for you, Mr. Fair? What other choice do you or Mr. Strife have?"

There was a meek knock on the door and the receptionist poked her head in through a slight crack. She waited until Dr. Bleier waved her in, and in she came carrying yet another report for Zack to fill out. She handed it to Zack once Dr. Bleier gave another wave of his hand.

Zack took it from her with reluctance. His mind was scrambling to gain any sort of traction.

"I am not your enemy, Mr. Fair," Dr. Bleier said as he stood. He moved around to hold the door open for the receptionist, but continued to hold it open for Zack once she made her exit. "But you don't want me to become one."

He couldn't think as fast as he reacted. He simply turned and left.

"No later than noon today, if you please. Oh, and tell Mr. Strife I do hope he feels better, and that I look forward to talking with him this Wednesday," Dr. Bleier called after him.

The first garbage can Zack came across was fed the report in its entirety. Long before noon.

When he returned to his quarters, he was stunned to find Cloud conscious and in the kitchen. He was standing still, obviously staring at the gaping hole in the cabinet where the drawer once was. He made no movement when Zack entered, nor did he seem to hear when Zack called his name softly.

Zack approached him with caution; he could only guess to which mental state Cloud was in. It was like a roulette wheel, the ball bouncing around until it came to land on any number of emotions. He made sure to make plenty of noise, and even stood next to him to wash his hands in plain view. But Cloud continued to stare, blinking once every twenty seconds or so, although Zack didn't wait much longer to get an accurate count.

"Cloud," he said firmly, stepping in front of him to sever his view of the cabinetry.

Somewhere after the tenth second or so, he blinked. He looked like he was struggling to bring Zack into view. He blinked again, then another right after, as if trying to hydrate his eyes.

"Z-Zack," he finally muttered.

Zack could see the roulette wheel coming to a gradual stop, and the ball settling into a pocket. Cloud was starting to panic.

"Y-You didn't need to know," he said, picking up right where he had left off the day before. He was backing away, replaying the same emotions and reactions.

Zack let out an inaudible sigh. The thought of turning around and leaving Cloud to deal with himself all alone crossed his mind. He immediately swore at himself under his breath for jumping to such an idea. The helpless look on Cloud's face made him feel worse.

He felt himself softening under the immense guilt, not just for his thoughts, but for the pleading pain in Cloud's eyes. They were imploring for Zack to forget what he already knew, and had known. They were crying for Zack to forgive the burden it had placed on him.

"We hurt together, Cloud," Zack said, daring to take a step closer to him. He studied Cloud's increasing distress as he spoke. "I'm just sorry that I allowed you to carry all that hurt by yourself for this long."

Cloud stepped back not out of fear, but out of shock. "Y-You're … sorry?"

"I am," Zack said quietly, truthfully. "I should've told you I had known from the start. Maybe you would've healed differently … maybe there wouldn't have been a need for so many lies between us. Maybe you … you wouldn't be suffering like this."

Cloud's mouth opened to say something. A small squeak came out, then his mouth closed. His eyes that had been pleading were now looking lost, as if the very concept of Zack assuming any sort of fault was abstruse.

Zack continued, sensing that Cloud's panic was subsiding, although he was unsure of the next emotion the ball would land on once the wheel stopped spinning. "I regret leaving you to deal with all this alone, Cloud. I figured you had your reasons for not telling me, like it was helping you cope or something. But … but that shouldn't have stopped me. I let it go for too damn long."

The boy was clearly gobsmacked. He stood there now with his mouth hanging open as though he wanted to say something, but his brain froze his entire body in place.

"I was there for you unconditionally, but not completely. Not as complete as I could've been had I just told you the damn truth," Zack said, his voice beginning to crack. He had to take a few moments to swallow, a lump stinging deep in his throat and creeping upward to his nose and eyes. "A-And I'm … " He swallowed again, trying to clear his throat but found it now welling with the emotions surfacing from his heart. "I'm … so sorry."

Zack had no choice whether to relent to his feelings or not. He released a sob, loud and sharp, a noise he had never heard himself make before. It was a torrent of grief which deluged the room, like a flash flood raging into every crack of desiccated land.

Cloud was in shock over Zack's sudden breakdown, and he looked like he was trying to remember how to console someone through his own instability. He watched in a daze as Zack was consumed by tears, his body lowering to the floor from the pressure of his despair.

He came to his knees, gulping erratically between sobs. He covered his face with his hands in a poor attempt to muffle himself, and hide his weakness from Cloud. There was no stopping anything, no matter how hard he tried.

Cloud made a sniffling noise, then Zack could feel him lowering down beside him. He waited for Cloud's arms to wrap about him, or for his hand to be placed somewhere upon his body to soothe, but it never came. Zack cried harder, every sob as if its own plead for Cloud to reach out, for Cloud to be that caring and intrepid being that he was before all the trauma.

The front door swung open. Zack raised on his knees and could see through his tears that Kunsel had entered. He was holding a foil baking pan in his hands.

"Shit," Kunsel said, staring wildly at the scene before him. He rushed over, tossing the pan onto the counter before kneeling down in front of Zack. "Let it out, man," he murmured as he slipped an arm around Zack's shoulders. He pulled him close, allowing him the surrender he desperately needed.

And surrender he did, sob after sob.

Kunsel snapped with his free hand a few times. "Hey," he said, his voice now firm.

Zack peeled away from Kunsel's chest just enough to see he was snapping his fingers in Cloud's face. Cloud blinked as if startled, and tears fell from his eyes.

"You, too," Kunsel said, holding his arm out to Cloud.

Cloud sat in confusion. For a moment, he looked as though he didn't recognize Kunsel.

Zack turned away, unable to cope any longer. He continued to cry.

"C'mon, kid," Kunsel urged with a few more snaps.

A warm, relieving weight enveloped Zack from his other side. Cloud had finally relented and allowed himself to be embraced against them both.

Kunsel held them long after Zack shuddered out his final sob. He didn't say anything during, letting his calm presence do all the consoling for them. There was a strange sensation which Zack could feel, a sort of faint tingle of energy being exchanged between them. Zack wasn't sure if it was the basal act of crying, or something more, but he felt as though he had been realigned. He had forgotten what it felt like to be balanced in the face of such turmoil.

Zack peeked at Cloud then, who was still in Kunsel's embrace. He had his eyes downcast but not closed. There were no more tears, and his breathing was as even as Kunsel's, as if he too felt the man being a conduit for repose. It made Zack all too aware of how much he had lost a handle on himself, and how that affected his relationship with Cloud, and ultimately affected Cloud himself.

"All good?" Kunsel eventually asked, pulling away from Zack, but not from Cloud.

"Yeah," Zack said, sniffling as he offered Kunsel a lopsided grin. "Much better."

Kunsel smiled in return and looked Zack over for a moment, considering him. He then nodded, as if satisfied, and passed Cloud over.

Zack took Cloud in his arms before he had even left the sanctity of Kunsel's hold. He gripped him tight, burying his face in his soft hair, nuzzling him, laying unabashed kisses upon his head. He still felt that thrum of energy surrounding him, even as Kunsel stood up and began busying himself in the kitchen. It was reigniting him slowly, but it was stable for now.

He felt Kunsel's hand give him a single pat on his head, as though reminding Zack in that moment that he would always be there to help ignite him.

They stayed in each others arms, Zack's back against the kitchen island, legs splayed across the floor, entangled with Cloud's. Kunsel stepped around them without giving them a second glance, and he slid the foil pan into the oven once it was preheated to his liking. He stepped back over them carefully, gathering plates and utensils for whatever meal he had prepared for them, then set them out on the coffee table in the living room. Zack heard him sit down on the couch with a quiet yawn, but he made no noise nor movement after that, as if tucking himself away to allow Zack and Cloud privacy.

The smell of baked cheese and tomato soon blanketed the kitchen. Somewhere in Zack's thoughts he assumed it was a lasagna of some sort—something easy to put together and of a hearty abundance for those in too much distress to cook. It was a comforting smell, and mixed with the heat of the oven, it very well could have lulled Zack into sleep had it not been for Cloud who then stirred in his arms. He looked down at the boy, smiling before they made eye contact—something which Zack had been unable to do for a very long time.

Cloud returned the smile. It was small and brief, but it was there.

After a while, Kunsel entered the kitchen and ushered them into the living room so he could remove the piping hot lasagna with its molten cheese bubbling over the sides. He helped Cloud up first, who needed a moment to gain his bearings before shuffling away. He then pulled Zack to his feet, but held onto him long after he was steady.

"Go take a load off," Kunsel said, nodding toward Cloud who was settling himself on the couch warily. "Leave things to me."

Zack did just that. He went over to Cloud and sat next to him, pulling him comfortably close. In plain view of Kunsel, who came around holding the foil pan with oven mitts, Zack kissed Cloud on the cheek and murmured, "I love you," to him near his ear.

Cloud turned his head and nuzzled his nose against Zack's before he had a chance to pull away. "Love you, too," he whispered.

"Well, now!" Kunsel said, setting the pan down, then twirled a spatula between his fingers. "Let's get some food in you both."

He served them, and they ate together peacefully for the most part. Every now and then, Kunsel would try to engage Cloud in conversation, quite an obvious attempt at ascertaining how deep his memory loss actually went. Cloud gave no more than a few words at a time, vague with hints of unfamiliarity. He called Kunsel sir,which was by no means out of the ordinary, but it was with more respect than he would normally give unless surrounded by other Shin-Ra personnel. Zack still wasn't sure if Cloud recognized him or not.

At first Zack was nervous, an initial response he had conditioned himself into after all the incidents of Cloud's panic attacks. He stared at Kunsel with a look of begging for him to not venture too far, but Kunsel blatantly ignored making eye contact with him. It was his way of reminding Zack to trust him.

So he did. Or he tried, at least. He was indeed protective of Cloud, as Kunsel had yet to witness Cloud at his worst firsthand. But Kunsel stayed on the outskirts of pushing him too far, so Zack instead focused on maintaining his own emotional balance. When he was calm, he'd place a hand somewhere on Cloud's body, or allow their shoulders to touch. But the moment he felt his own panic threaten to rise, he'd shift himself away in fear of Cloud picking up on his unease.

It seemed to work. Cloud remained level, if not a little withdrawn. Even when Kunsel began telling Cloud how the men in the barracks missed him, and about all the changes which happened since Cloud's medical leave, he remained ambiguous in his responses.

"Kumpf and Zabalza were deployed a long time ago," Kunsel said after wiping his mouth with a napkin. He was watching Cloud intently. "They've been collecting monster specimens out in the field. Before they left, they asked to pass along their condolences, for," Kunsel paused, catching a twitch in Cloud's face that Zack, too, caught, "Ratcliff," he finished.

Cloud set his plate down and leaned back, his eyes heavy with conflict. "Thanks for telling me," was all he muttered.

Zack finally caught Kunsel's attention and shook his head. Kunsel gave a slight shrug, and didn't probe any further.

They finished their meal without incident. Cloud was beginning to show signs of fatigue not long after, and Zack was surprised it hadn't hit him sooner. When he started to slump low on the couch, Zack guided him down and helped him get comfortable with his head in his lap. Kunsel got up and grabbed a blanket off Zack's bed without being asked, and draped it over him.

When Kunsel finished cleaning up, he came back over and checked to see if Cloud was asleep before sitting down on the coffee table in front of them. He rubbed his chin in thought, staring for a long time as Zack idly stroked Cloud's head.

Now that it was just the two of them, Zack grew nervous once more. He was afraid of what he might say about what he witnessed, or about Cloud's condition …

… or about their loving exchange, no matter how brief it was.

Before Kunsel could ask or say anything, Zack found himself telling him about his encounter with Dr. Bleier earlier, and how that was his breaking point. He admitted that everything was becoming too much for him.

"Don't worry," Kunsel whispered. "I'm gonna look into some things. Try to get answers, and some help."

"But not from Bleier, right?" Zack whispered back, his hand stopping its caress through Cloud's hair.

Kunsel shook his head, a deep frown on his face. He almost looked insulted that Zack would ask such a thing. "Help from Bleier? Fuck no, dude. After everything you've told me, I wouldn't trust him to care for my pet rock, let alone a friend."

"But he wants Cloud there on Wednesday. What am I supposed to do?"

Kunsel considered this. "Let Cloud go for now until I can find out more," he whispered, looking pained to say it.

Zack wilted. "I don't know how much more Cloud or I can take of this, Kunsel."

"I know. But you gotta hang on for a little longer. Trust—"

Zack cut him off, looking up from Cloud's sleeping face to meet him eye to eye. "I trust you."

Kunsel nodded, and both of their gazes went back down to monitor Cloud. He smiled faintly, watching as Zack's hand moved from Cloud's hair down to his forehead to check for fever, then to the side of his face where his thumb stroked his cheekbone for a while.

"I figured it out a long time ago," Kunsel said, his voice full of warmth, despite still being in a whisper.

Zack had a sheepish look on his face, which Kunsel snorted over when he saw it.

"When?" Zack asked astounded, even though he should have just assumed Kunsel knew from the start.

Kunsel chuckled softly, folding his arms across his chest while watching the tender scene play out in front of him. He contemplated for a while, shaking his head with a crooked grin on his face. "Before you yourself knew," he said fondly. "It was only a matter of time until you two got together."

Zack scoffed in dry amusement. He continued his connection with Cloud through tracing his lips with his index finger, then smiling when Cloud made a small, sleepy sound in protest.

"I don't know why you didn't tell me, though," Kunsel admitted, sadness now in his voice. He looked deeply hurt, and he continued to stare as though he were retreating back into his memory, possibly thinking about all the times when Zack had a chance to reveal the truth. "A long time ago I told Cloud to tell you to come talk to me. I told him to tell you that you should know me better than that." He chuckled once. "I guess he never gave you the message."

"I wasn't sure," Zack started with a meek shrug, "how you'd feel knowing I was with another man."

It was Kunsel's turn to scoff. He shook his head and had his mouth open, readying his opposition. But Zack continued, stopping him from speaking.

"And I guess because you always find out one way or another."

"Well, this is true," Kunsel said, placing his hands behind him on the coffee table. He leaned back, looking up to the ceiling for a moment. A sly grin crept onto his face then. "But you're givin' me too much credit."

Zack's hand stopped ghosting about Cloud's neck and chest now. "Oh?"

"It was easy to figure out once you two started having really loud sex."

Zack sputtered and choked on his own saliva.

Kunsel stayed the night like how he had promised the previous evening. This time, Zack retired to his actual bed, to his spot right next to Cloud. Kunsel stayed on the couch, but didn't seem to do much sleeping. He was up every hour or so, sneaking into the room to check on Cloud while Zack dozed in and out. Between the fever checks, he'd lie still for a while on the couch before fidgeting, then illuminated the darkness of Zack's quarters by occupying himself on his phone. This cycle continued. It was like not allowing a computer to rest after a hard reset before turning it back on again. He seemed to be doing more thinking than anything.

Despite the comfort of Kunsel's presence, and his vow to help, Zack found that he also had trouble falling into a deep sleep at any point during the night. About the fifth time Kunsel got up to check on Cloud, it disturbed the boy enough to cause him to turn to his side and wiggle away from the offending hand upon his forehead. He had wiggled right up against Zack's back and stayed there.

Zack was finally able to fall asleep.

In the morning, Kunsel was already gone. He had brought both Zack and Cloud breakfast from the mess hall, had made them sandwiches for their lunch, and left a note reminding Zack that there was leftover lasagna in the fridge for their dinner. There was also a reminder to ensure Cloud made his appointment the next day.

The note had been left right next to the measuring cup and bottle of fever reliever. The cup had remnants of the medication pooled on the bottom from having been used some point after Zack had fallen asleep.

… to be continued in Chapter Sixty-Five: Acid in the Blood.

Author's Note: AAAAAAAAAAAH LESS THAN 24 HOURS LESS THAN 24 HOURS! I wanted to post this chapter in honor of the REMAAAAAKE being released TOMORROW!

When I first started writing this fic almost 11 years ago, I never dreamed that a) I'd be writing it still; and b) THAT I'D BE PLAYING A REMAKE OF THE GAME WHICH LITERALLY SHAPED ME INTO THE PERSON I AM TODAY.

As far as the next chapter goes, it's started but not finished. I don't know when I'll have time to write because this game is going to consume my life for the unforeseeable future. ESPECIALLY BECAUSE I WILL BE STREAMING IT ON TWITCH! Yup, I started streaming games on there about a month ago, and will be exclusively streaming the remake. Starting April 10th, I'll be streaming FFVIIR twice a day, except on Thursdays. If you don't have a PS4, or just want to watch and chat with me, there will be two "saves" that I'll play—one for the AM crowd, one for the PM crowd. The first stream will start at 9am Pacific Standard Time, and go until 2pm. The second stream will start at 5pm and go until 10pm. Pick a time which suits you best, and come join me every day for this LEGENDARY ADVENTURE. My username on Twitch is RogueTatertot, and you can find a direct link in my profile here! I hope to see you there!

ALSO WHILE I WAS WRITING THE ABOVE SENTENCE, MY 1ST CLASS EDITION WAS DELIVERED! I HAD TO TAKE TEN MINUTES TO CRY HAPPY TEARS BEFORE I RESUMED TYPING.

Back to the chapter: I have this headcanon that the reason why Kunsel is so intuitive is not because he's such a good sneak, but because he's actually an empath. I believe he can see auras, exchange his energy with others (like reiki), and this allows him to be able to read people's minds in a way. Not in a literal sense, like he's telepathic (or maybe he is, who knows!) but by being so in tune with people's energies, he's able to read them in ways that most people can't. Stack this with his perception, his extensive knowledge, and his stupidly amazing talent with technology, and you have one formidable friend...or foe. Did I mention how much I love Kunsel? I have, but I'mma do it again: I LOVE KUNSEL.

I HOPE YOU ALL ARE STAYING SAFE DURING THIS PANDEMIC. I hope you all get to play or watch this remake. ilu all.

I am so emotional right now jfc hkjashdjkasd