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Okay, so thanks to a suggestion from Yuleen75 I finally got around to changing the terrible spacing on the first chapters. Thankyou :)

So, first of all, because so many have asked, no Cloud and Zack are not in a romantic relationship. There's a little Cloti at the end, a brief mention of Zaerith etc.

There's a bit of fluff, a bit of fighting, a bit of sadness, a bit of Chocobo, and a hell of a lot of Zack, so sit back, relax, and enjoy...

He had been sitting in the back of the truck for as long as he could remember.

Around him, hushed voices spoke in low tones, droning on and on as though they were broken records, repeating themselves over and over.

He was leaning up against the canvas siding that covered the back of the truck, and someone had lain a thick wool blanket over his supposedly inert form.

He was slipping in and out of a hazy consciousness, only aware of dim shapes, shifting restlessly around him.

There were some, who lay on the floor, unmoving. The corpses of the fallen he knew, but why they lay there, and he did not, he did not know.

His limbs were numb, and frost settled on his eyelashes. Whether they had numbed from the cold, or from some unknown drug they had injected so he couldn't feel the pain, the

numbness, though unwelcome was relief. Puffs of steam erupted from each of the forms' mouths simultaneously, and the voices were silent. The record had finally stopped, and silence

enveloped him.

It had happened many a time before, but he knew when he awoke, he would no longer be in the warm haven in which he slept.

He would be cold, and stiff, his limbs aching with the knowledge they would be pushed to their limits as soon as he was pushed back into the field.

The numbness that he had succumbed to so willingly would mercilessly leave him, and the pain would wrack through his body once more.

When would it end? He so often asked himself as he lay on the brink of consciousness, the boundary between relief and pain.

So many before him had asked themselves the very same question, he knew, and so many before him had walked into the light, the brilliant warmth that had been called the Lifestream,

and let themselves be taken by it, sucked into its lulling tide, and swallowed, so they could no longer feel, no longer endure.

But he had promised himself, despite the amount of relief he would feel, as long as he could, he would not succumb to the Lifestream's call. Instead he would follow a different voice, one

of familiarity, one that seemed now, the only reason he was doing this, the only reason to live.

He would follow the voice through an endless darkness, along the chosen fork in the path he had so often debated-

To one arm, was the Lifestream- Relief, an endless haven of light-

To the other was consciousness, life itself- Pain, darkness, endless gunfire, blood, destruction-

To anyone else, he knew which would seem the obvious choice, but he knew even by choosing the Lifestream, he wouldn't be able to end this war. He needed to remind himself as to

what he was fighting for.

Friends. Family.

To him, they were the same thing, but it was worth the pain, the endless anguish, the depression, the nightmares. To him, they were a reason to keep on living, a reason to ignore the

Lifestream, and follow the path that he had chosen, back to where the pain was waiting for him. He could already feel the cold begin to seep into his dreams, the pain in his limbs, in his

chest. He could hear the endless howls of the winter wind outside, and not for the first time, wondered if he'd chosen the right path, but when he heard the voice, he remembered why he

had chosen this life.

____

"Cloud." Cloud let himself wake. He tried to speak, but only a soft moan could escape his dry lips. His eyes felt as if they were glued shut from the frost that had accumulated on his

eyelashes, and as he raised his arm in an attempt to wipe it away, a flash of pain brought back memories of what had happened.

____

Cloud was sitting around near the fire, holding a small rifle coated in a layer of frost.

He blew on his hands in an attempt to warm them, moving a little closer to the fire. Some of the other men around it were laughing half-heartedly at someone's joke, as they too tried to warm

themselves.

A ragged tarp had been hung above to allow some shelter from the howling wind, and static embraced Christmas carols were playing on a small ham radio that one of the younger SOLDIERS had

snuck in with them. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, despite the circumstances. It was Christmas Eve, and they had been posted as look outs a kilometre away from their encampment. It

was storming heavily, and the snow was coming down in buckets.

The men were joking merrily, talking about their wives or children, and morale was being kept as high as the circumstances would allow. Cloud had never really like any of them except Zack, an

older boy who had just recently gone off into the forest to take a bathroom break.

He was the only First Class SOLDIER that had come along, and was greatly respected among everyone there, even those superior in age.

He had left his big Buster sword behind, which had comforted the others if not a little, and as Cloud gazed at the sword, awaiting Zack's return, he heard something behind him.

He looked back to the others who had appeared not to have heard, and stood, putting a frost bitten finger on the trigger of his rifle.

He stepped over the log that he'd been sitting on, peering into the darkness.

He squinted, his mako infused eyes glaring into the shadows.

WZZZZZZZ

he jumped as a bullet skimmed his shoulder and gave a cry of surprise, darting behind a thick tree.

He shouted to the others who just turned up the volume on the ham radio and talked louder.

"AMBUSH" he shouted, and there was a chorus of yells from the trees.

Finally one of the men turned around, "C'mon Spike, just come join-" he gave a strangled cry as a led bullet implanted in his forehead.

He collapsed with a dull thud and Cloud watched wide-eyed as a pool of crimson spread rapidly around him, soaking into the new fallen snow. The rest of the men turned, raising rifles, only to have

the light taken from their eyes as one after another fell, slumping over in their seats, crimson spattering the ground.

Cloud held his breath, taking a glance around the tree.

Now he saw them.

A group of enemy spies had ambushed them from the far side of the forest and were now running into the camp, the fight began.

____

Cloud vaguely remembered the rest, only when Zack returned to find all slaughtered, and Cloud hanging on to consciousness by a thread, lying in a pool of cherry against white snow, his

eyes glazed and blood dribbling down his chin.

He wrenched his eyes open, blinking a few times before his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

He lay in a large tent, not his own, he knew, but familiar all the same. He had been lain on a platform, cold and flat, and Zack sat beside him, his eyes trailing from Cloud's ruined chest, to

his frightened eyes.

"You're awake- the doctor said you wouldn't- how do you feel?"

Despite the immense pain that coursed through his body, he managed a half smile. "G-great." He managed to say, his voice barely a whisper.

Zack tried to smile, but it faltered and failed. "They're gonna transport you to a hospital. I don't know where yet, but they said your injuries are too serious to stay here. You're gonna be

fine, and when your better, you can come back here, I'm sure they'll fix you up in no time." He said reassuringly, doubt hidden behind worried eyes.

"Oh no, this boy will not be returning to this escapade call it what you want, in fact, he won't be returning to SOLDIER at all you see..."

Zack stood so abruptly his chair fell to the floor, "Won't be returning to SOLDIER?" his voice raised, "Why not?"

The doctor then came into view, his eyes falling hungrily on Cloud in such a way he felt uncomfortable.

The man's face was covered in a white surgical mask, his black hair in a ponytail.

"I feel no need to explain to the likes of you, Zack Fair, and I have come to give the patient a shot, you'd best leave, he needs to rest, we will be taking him in the morning."

Zack looked taken aback,

"The morning?" he said as the doctor screwed a phial into an IV that seemed to be running into Cloud's arm.

He felt darkness consuming his vision, and the last thing he heard Zack say,

"Can't I even say goodbye?"