Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: I always thought it was kind of weird that in FFVII: Crisis Core the army finds Cloud, but they don't do anything with him. I mean, if they are going to take the time to hunt poor Zack and Cloud down, why not finish the job? Doesn't Shinra teach them to be more efficient? But then again, they were ordered to take the fugitives alive, and they killed Zack. So perhaps Shinra's structural world was collapsing around that time more than I previously thought.

Also, I've read fics that depict Cloud getting up and helping Zack fight, but in his early stages of recovery – especially after just waking up – he was pretty much useless. No wonder he had guilt issues in ACC and the subsequent fanfics.

Zack fought with the ferocity of a thousand demons. Shinra may have found them, but that didn't mean he and Cloud were going to be taken back. No, he would sooner die then see Cloud dragged back to those dungeons of torment. Looking around as he fought, all Zack saw was a thousand gun barrels staring him down – mere obstacles in the way between him and freedom.

The click of guns, the thunderous shots, his labored grunts – the sounds of battle meshed together, but Zack closed off the screams of the dying. He couldn't afford to get distracted now. The sweat began to wet his shirt, and with a dry chuckle he chided, got to get back shape, Zack. Don't want Aerith to think her hero is nothing but skin and bones now.

He backed up, swinging around to take on the few remaining troopers. A sorry thought fled his mind, If Cloud were still in the militia, he might have been one of them. The implication that those nameless uniforms contained more than just expendable manpower made Zack sad, but at the roar of gunfire, Zack picked up his resolve and finished the job.

It was quiet now. Dark clouds loomed in the sky, and a groan of thunder cracked the sky with a streak of lightening racing for Midgar. Except for that, all was quiet. And the sound of a gun cocking behind him.

Zack turned in time to catch the bullet spray in his chest. Caught off guard and suddenly overwhelmed by the sensation of drowning, Zack faltered and fell.

A single infantryman entered his view and shot him twice more for assurance that Zack would not rise. With those final shots, Zack's hope, will, and life died. His breathing grew shallow, and he closed his heavy eyelids. His last thought stung painfully in his heart. I'm sorry, Aerith…

Zack struggled to open his eyes. For a moment he was disappointed. So heaven hurts just as much as life. His chest felt heavy, and liquid clung to the back of his throat so he couldn't cough it up completely. Rain fell onto his face as a soft awakener, and soon he realized he had not died yet.

But something had waken him up. An irritating sound reached his ears – irritating, that is, until he recognized it. The sound of pain. And it wasn't the dying soldiers either. No, those cries were far too familiar.

Cloud.

Zack blinked rapidly, feeling dizzy though he had not moved. "Clooouud?" Zack croaked.

A whimper answered him.

"Cloud?" Zack's mind slid toward lucidity so he lifted his head weakly. Just twenty feet away lay a lifeless body topped with the most ridiculous head of hair Zack had ever seen.

"Spike?" There was no question it was him, but Zack knew he had to close the distance between them.

The truth was, Zack was afraid of dying. He was sure he would. Cloud was in no condition to be running for help, and really, where would he get it? But more to the point, Zack was afraid of dying alone. For that reason alone, he needed Cloud near.

Rolling onto his stomach took effort. Pushing himself to his feet nearly blacked him out. Stepping forward seemed impossible, but he had to get to Cloud.

A few feet later his legs cramped beneath him, already stretched to his limit, and the air felt thick and heavy around him. Seeing the choco-yellow hair shifting in the building breeze, Zack stumbled faster. He couldn't get there soon enough. Worry filled his mind and spilled over, but as he got close, he collapsed in front of the small, heaving body.

"Spike?" he asked tentatively, turning his head to the side.

Cloud broke down in sobs. Zack watched him clench his fists and release them, over and over. Somehow it didn't register so much that Cloud was moving but that he was crying.

"Spikeyyy," Zack turned his body so he could hug Cloud close, both still lying on the muddy ground with the rain pounding into them. "Don't…don't cry."

"Z-ack." Cloud panted. "I…I can..t breathe." Tears filled his eyes, the air he sucked in clashing with the blood that filled his throat. It choked him, and he spat out a bloody mouthful, still gasping for breath.

"Spike? What happened?" Zack's eyes roamed across Cloud's body, stopping at his abdomen where a small bullet-hole rip allowed the red to soak through his turtleneck. "You're hurt?"

Cloud sobbed a bit longer before coughing up blood. Zack hugged Cloud's body close to his chest, the blood encasing them both in a slimy coating. "Shh," Zack began to cry with him. His jaw felt stiff, but he forced himself to continue. "It's okay. Don't cry. Plea…se don't c-ry." Zack wanted to get help. He couldn't let Cloud die. He had to– who was he kidding? He could barely talk, let alone move. Zack could take away a thousand lives – the sons of mothers, the brothers of sisters, and the friends of many – but if he couldn't save one life, the one friend he had left, it would be the end. "I did everything I could," Zack clutched Cloud's head to his chest. "And still it wasn't enough."

Cloud moved slightly against him. His breath was exiting his body is wheezing heaves, and Zack watched him painfully. We were almost there. He craned his head back as far as he dared and caught a glimpse of the tip of Shinra headquarters. He had been running for months to see the city – well, to see her – and now that he was almost there, all he was allowed was the sight of the company that had sacrificed his life for the sake of their secrecy. Cloud whimpered lightly into Zack's chest. His golden spikes were matted down with blood, mud, and teardrops from heaven. Zack brushed his trembling fingers through his hair, trying to sooth him. He buried his face in the mess of hair and blinked out more tears.

"Do..nt cr-y," Cloud whispered.

Zack looked down and saw Cloud's terrified blue eyes, hazy with tears, looking into his with reassurance of his own. He smiled weakly.

Zack repeated what he had told those innocent eyes so many times before, and this time, he wasn't sure it was all a lie. "We'll be okay, buddy. You'll feel better soon." He hugged that slight frame tighter though he could feel his muscles giving way to exhaustion. "Just close your eyes. Go to sleep. When you wake up, this'll all just be a bad dream."

If only.

Terror pillaged the strength from Cloud's shaking body. Desperately he grabbed a fistful of Zack's damp shirt and loosely held it.

"I'm not going anywhere." Zack murmured. His vision was flooding with black, but he didn't want to let go. He truly wanted to believe that somehow he could still make everything alright. But he couldn't even keep his eyes from falling shut. "I promised, remember?" he whispered into Cloud's hair. Zack's mind was slipping away, but he realized one last thing:

Cloud's body was still.

Zack's tears merged with the rain. It was sad, but he didn't feel so scared now. It was like he had faced this before. A little piece of him had died when he had killed Angeal, and again when he faced the General gone mad. And then there was every day after that in the lab when Zack's memories of his family, friends, and Aerith had begun to dim. And Cloud. That poor, sweet, innocent kid caught in something bigger than him. He had died long ago, in the lab. And now he was truly gone. There was nothing left. Zack wasn't a hero, and his honor and legacy would die with him, forgotten. Zack could finally let go.

Was this freedom? He had nothing left to tie him to the world. If that was the price of freedom – losing everything he ever cared about – then Zack preferred to think he was dying after a failed attempt to reach it, not that this empty feeling inside his stomach was what he had fought so long for.

Would anyone miss them? Or would they die alone – completely alone with not even their memory surviving? Zack couldn't save the world – couldn't even save his own life. He had never been a hero. Heroes saved people. When it came down to the people most important to him, he was only a failure.

Genesis's beloved "Loveless" floated through his mind. Genesis would have been proud that Zack actually took the time to consider the words, even if only with lingering sadness. "Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul. Pride is lost. Wings stripped away, the end is nigh. Such is... the fate of a monster."

He wasn't a monster. Was he?

Zack's stiff eyelids cracked open and glimpsed the golden strands of Cloud's hair. He closed his eyes against the sight. Cloud wasn't a monster. Zack had managed to save that much of him. So maybe, in that small way, he was a hero after all. Thunder cracked the sky to pieces and white flashed outside Zack's closed eyelids. He hugged the limp body closer.

"…goodnight…Cloud."

I have issues with people falling unconscious in one way or another at the end of my fics. It's a problem to be solved, for sure, but I hoped you liked it.

-Dante