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“Hey Sephiroth, can you open your eyes for me?” Two fingers tap against his cheek.
Sephiroth feels the breath catch in his throat but he can’t bother to do more. Everything is too heavy. There could be a grown man sitting on his chest. He wouldn’t know. His eyes wouldn’t move.
“Sephiroth?”
Blackness surrounds him. It feels good not to think. When was the last time that he just laid on his back and let it all go?
He couldn’t remember.
Not since the Wutai war started.
“Okay, how about one eye? Is that a deal?” The fingers tap a few more times.
Sephiroth can’t be bothered. The sensation disappears.
“Alright. It makes sense but there is always a chance you might come around on your own. Those spells are weakening like crazy.” The voice sounds more like a man’s as the hand slips down his face. “Handling Firsts and Seconds is so different than anybody else.”
“I know you don’t know me but I’m the right guy for the job. You got lucky actually.” His words stop as he checks his pulse. Real fingers, Sephiroth thinks, are touching him. No plastic gloves, no leather, no barriers, just a person checking to make sure that he is okay. Is he okay? He’s not sure. The question makes what bits of consciousness he has strung together go hazy.
The man starts talking again a moment after he withdraws. “That heart is so much calmer. You aren’t poisoned anymore so we’re really getting somewhere. Progress is progress!”
Boots scrap against the dirt next to him. “It could also be running a little too slow because of the slow or the silence or that double hex sleep spell I haven’t undone yet.”
A laugh comes out above him. He can’t remember the last time that he heard a laugh that sounded that real.
“You’re a bit of a wreck, General,” He whispers and a hand pats his shoulder. “But don’t worry. I’ve got this and it’s just you and me. I’m really good at keeping secrets.”
Secrets.
Sephiroth has them.
“I’m feeling undoing the slow spell first to get you some more oxygen. Since I’ve already handled that puncture on your neck, you won’t bleed out on me.”
What are his secrets?
“Do you know sometimes I’ve actually cast slow on SOLDIERs to make them not bleed to death? That was a cool trick to learn. It’s a life hack.”
The hands place themselves on his stomach. Sephiroth realizes he is on his back. His head is a little higher. He’s propped up a little. There is a breeze on his face. He wonders if he is cold. He’s not sure. The hands are oddly warm where they touch his skin.
“Or is it a lifesaver?”
Another chuckle.
“Sorry, I’ve got to shut up. These spells are all in some sort of orgie with each other. It’s hard to pull them apart. I’m here and not going anywhere until you are back even if you can’t hear me. Promise.”
There is a pause.
Sephiroth says nothing.
And the voice goes silent.
Everything goes slightly sideways. His consciousness tilts as magic floods into his system again. It tickles against the inside of his throat and nose. The sensation weaves down his body.
His secrets. He has them. What are they?
Everything is muffled. He tries to remember where he is. He’s outside. He’s not in R&D. He’s not in a building. How did he get here? His chest stutters. He should remember. He can’t remember. He should. Something tries to the surface until he pushes it down. Emotions are pointless now. He can’t even move.
The spell snags on his veins, jerking them upwards in a lattice of pain. The man curses. Sephiroth twitches.
“Yeah, sorry, not at Genesis’ level. Gotta-” he cuts himself off. “There.”
The magic flashes back to warm and soothing. It digs itself between a layer of cold he didn’t know he felt.
Genesis.
Genesis would know why he is here.
“Almost there.”
It’s usually Genesis or Angeal that heals him. It occurs to him as a portion of the lethargy peels off. His lungs rise up instinctively, swallowing air he didn’t know he needed. He hears the gasp he takes.
“Hell yeah. Good job. Breathe in that country air, buddy.”
Part of the weight lifts entirely.
“Okay. All done. If you can hear me, take another big breath for me.” The hands move. He can feel the man lean over him, one digging back to check his pulse, the other landing on his chest. “There we go. You’ve been breathing really shallowly. Oxygen is good for you. We’ve got to get rid of those blue lips.”
Sephiroth doesn’t know if he follows the instructions or if it is just his body but there is a demand. His lungs burn with the effort as he takes in as much as they can until he goes dizzy with the oxygen. The hand tracks those breaths on his chest. He feels his head almost roll from the effort. His lips are cracked open. There is sweat on his throat. Everything still isn’t aligning in his head.
Indeed, he’s a bit of a wreck.
No one knows that he gets hurt like this. Angeal or Genesis are the ones that are there to pick him up as he does for them. The world thinks he is untouchable. Little did they know that it is only because of the other Firsts that he can keep that appearance.
Something that he is missing today.
That’s right.
Shinra had pulled Genesis and Angeal back to HQ at the last moment. They had put every mission purely on Sephiroth alone. He had done his best but it had been days of constant fighting. That last battle, he’d finally been hit and then hit again and that was enough.
The exhaustion rose.
He had lost his footing.
He’d called for backup but it had been too late.
The hands pull back from his skin and drag him to the present.
“You are doing a great job, Sephiroth.” The man’s voice is filled with a smile. “I need a second and then we will work on that double hex.”
The ground next to him crunches and he realizes the man is laying down next to him. “I’ve usually got more stamina than this but you are my third patient today and things are running a little bit low. That last spell was a bit of a dozy. Gotta catch my own breath. Ha.”
There is a huge sigh. Sephiroth realizes he can start to hear something off in the distance.
“If you can, open your eyes, there are some pretty clouds going by.”
It’s a battle. They are near a battlefield. He is laying vulnerable near enemies.
“One of them looks like a bird.”
This is too much.
“Wait. No. That’s actually a bird,” he laughs, “I’m tired.”
Sephiroth tries to summon the energy to rise. He’s proud to say that there is an actual movement. He shudders. Light stings his eyes for a second. The ground leaves his back. The pain and weight of the remaining spells is excruciating but he has worked through worse. He can’t just lay here. He’d pay for it later with Shinra.
“Hold up.” The man’s panic is apparent and he can hear him scramble up. “You can’t do that yet.”
He’s shoved back to the ground. His effort crumples. It’s embarrassing. It took one firm hand to his chest to push him back down. He manages to crack his eyes open a little. The sun is strong but he can see black hair hovering above him.
“Sephiroth. You are safe.” The lightness in the voice fades and leans into something stronger. “Stay down. I know. I’ve seen Genesis and Angeal pull you aside to heal you. I know you never come to medical. I bet this is uncomfortable for you.”
The man moves a little bit closer. “I hauled you away from the others because I know you like your privacy. I think you are pretty cool and I want to honor that. I figured you wouldn’t want others to see you like this but if you don’t chill, you’ll hurt yourself. So I’ll go get a few of my buddies before that happens. Your wellbeing is my priority so let’s not get up and both of us will be happy?”
It’s a threat with a grin and somehow it feels like the most honest he’s been treated in years. It’s reassuring. It’s a clear line of action and consequence, no tricks or conditions. Sephiroth can make his decision knowing it’s as simple as it seems. He lets the fight go.
“Right, you are still way under so I’m going to assume the lack of struggle is a ‘yes.’” The smile makes it through the smudgeness of his vision. “I’m Zack Fair, First Class SOLDIER Medic. It’s nice to meet you.”
His hand is shook. Zack’s blurry smile gets impossibly bigger. It sets something off in Sephiroth, numbing the stress. Despite the cheer, Zack knew exactly what he was doing. It showed in how smooth and easy he made decisions.
“Okay.” He slaps his knees. “Let’s get that sleep spell off you. You won’t be able to talk because of the silence one but you’ll start to feel a ton better but first…”
The shadow of the man moves. Sephiroth’s head shifts as Zack digs into whatever he’s propped up against. By the clicking sounds and the zippers, Sephiroth realizes that he’s been using the First’s first aid pack as a pillow. Zack digs around in it for a bit longer before pulling something.
“Sometimes when I’ve had the remains of a sleep spell pulled off, I get super cold for a minute or two. It’s completely normal.” He shuffles back into his sight. “Now I’m not supposed to have a blanket this nice but sometimes a medic’s job is a bit boring so I nap when I can.”
The cloth flutters down over him. It’s light but the texture is soft. Zack tucks it carefully against him.
Zack continues, “And you kinda aren’t wearing a shirt and those pauldrons really had to go for you to be comfy. You’ll need new straps. ‘You can get new clothes. You can’t get your soul back.’ That’s my motto.”
The blanket hugs him tight. Zack adjusts his arm so it isn’t pinned. The focus is thorough. His comfort is suddenly important to someone else. It’s not something to be ignored.
It’s confusing to feel like this. Hojo would never allow this. Genesis never had the patience to slow down when healing him, often opting to scold him with care. Angeal was too concerned with the damage, worrying about the blood that Sephiroth never cared about spilling. They are close, impossibly close, but they are byproducts of Shinra.
Something that Zack Fair seems to have avoided.
“Are you doing okay?”
Sephiroth’s head spins with the question.
“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”
The hands lay on the blanket over him. “This one will take a while. If you feel a little funky or if you actually fall asleep, it’s all okay. Who knew that the opposition could make such fancy spells.” Zack pauses and shrugs. “But you are one fancy guy so I guess that makes sense.”
The magic hits him the next second.
Sephiroth doesn’t even stand a chance this time. The wave drowns him almost immediately. The blanket is tight and quickly warming him. According to Zack, they are safe enough and considering one of them knows more about their situation than Sephiroth currently does, he takes it at face value.
The magic is also like slipping in sand. It numbs his thoughts and makes him slump even further against the ground. He sinks back into the darkness of the spell without another choice.
“Take two.”
Fingers brush back his bangs from his face and tap against his cheek. “Now can you open your eyes for me, Sephiroth? I need to make sure it all went right and you aren’t now in a coma. I hate to interrupt the nap.”
The tapping is insistent enough that Sephiroth not only opens his eyes but draws his eyebrows together in irritation. He sucks in a breath and twists in the blanket.
“There we go.” Zack’s face fills his vision. “Welcome back to consciousness.”
He’s smiling. It’s so genuine that it takes a moment for Sephiroth to process that it is relief and nothing more.
Zack sits back and opens a glass bottle. “Now don’t think about getting up yet, I need to drink this and then I’ll get that silence off of you. I just thought you were itching to feel less like a dead body there.”
It’s true. Clarity is coming back. Sephiroth can actually focus and his limbs are starting to shake off the numb sensation. They’re on a hill, upwards and back from the valley that he should have been in. Trees are scattered around them. The main supporting group is lower under them. He can see the smudge lower where the troops are still cleaning up the mess.
“Speaking of dead bodies, there were a lot around you.” Zack drinks half the blue sludge out of the glass in one go. “I think that’s why nobody noticed you at first, you were kinda covered in the bodies of your enemies.”
Sephiroth’s voice is still locked up as he half rises to his elbows. The blanket crumples in his lap. It feels like it belongs to him, like it is a gift.
Zack gives him a look. “I can still go get my friends, you know.”
Sephiroth shakes his head and stays where he is. He’s not sure that he is ready to fully rise anyways. The edges of his vision are fuzz. The block in his chest is hard against his lungs. When he doesn’t move, Zack finishes off the drink and puts the glass aside. He sighs and throws back his head.
“I’ve just got to let this hit the system and we will get that final spell off.” His eyes close as the sun soaks on his skin. The lines of his neck stretch out in a way that Sephiroth knows he shouldn’t trace.
Sephiroth can’t help notice how comfortable he is this close to battle. Most men don’t get this far. A lazy smile comes across Zack’s face as he stretches back. Has he heard of this Zack before? He tries to remember but the Medic division of SOLDIER is not only newer but a service that Sephiroth never used.
They were capable fighters but because their magic skills were stronger, they were pulled out to support the remaining troops. Fatality rates crashed significantly. Lazard cemented them in the program and they gained the ability to get mako exposures. If Zack is a First Class Medic, while it isn’t exact, they are as close in rank as they could get.
The mako eyes pop open after a second and Zack turns towards him. “Lay back down. We will get the final one off.”
Sephiroth does, resting back against the bag. It seems to barely take a second of concentration from Zack before the final spell detaches from him, floating off on the breeze.
“All done.” Zack’s hand slips down to his own and pauses there. “Now take a minute and rest. I already have seen you unconscious and bleeding. No need to go all stoic now, just rest. You look like you might need it.”
The fingers leave his hand.
Something twists in Sephiroth’s chest. It is having the attention, he tells himself, nothing more than that. Attention is addictive.
“I will need that blanket back and don’t ask me if I’ve ever used it during active combat.” Zack looks away and smiles. “Although I guess since that is blanket number three, I do use them for bandages if I have to on occasion.”
“Why are you not in regular SOLDIER?” Sephiroth feels his own voice grate for a moment before warming up. He tries to blink away the blur still in the corner of his eyes.
Zack covers the surprise of Sephiroth speaking with a shrug. “I like helping people. Like your friend Angeal says, there is honor in helping and do you know I get to save lives everyday? That’s pretty cool.”
Sephiroth ends lives everyday. He wouldn’t know.
“And I get to talk to you until I get tired, which is pretty great. It’s called a captive audience.” He grins, looks down at him and frowns. “Still looking a little pale, prop up your legs, would you?”
Sephiroth’s choice in the matter is barely needed. Zack moves and pulls his feet flat, tenting his legs up. It helps his vision almost immediately. The fighting is still going on but this time it seems distant. He can’t help it. Sephiroth relaxed back, the responsibility of himself in the hands of someone else who won’t hurt him.
Zack goes back to watching the birds and waiting. If Sephiroth asked for help, Zack would do it. The care is intoxicatingly sweet. The way the medic looks at him, not bothered by his status, thrills him.
It feels too good to be like this. It almost feels normal.
A voice breaks his quiet.
“We need Sephiroth down here,” someone shouts. Sephiroth frowns. It hurts. It’s over. It’s time to get up.
Zack sits straight. “Nope! You don’t! He’s still down for the count.”
“You’ve been with him for a while.”
Sephiroth starts to move and Zack shakes his head at him before going back to staring down the hill.
“Yeah? And?”
“He should be ready.”
Zack pauses a second.
“Okay! Why don’t you come up here and tell him that?”
The silence stretches out a minute.
“Bye!” Zack waves his hand, barely keeping the laugh from his voice.
Sephiroth watches Zack track the SOLDIER back down the hill. He chuckles and flops back in the grass next to him.
“You’ve been working too hard. They’ve got this. They just don’t want to.”
“Thank you.”
Zack turns his head, grass poking against his cheek but nothing is deterring a smile, a much softer one than before.
“No problem. Remember I promised I wouldn’t go anywhere until you were back. So take your time and let me know when you are back.”
His eyes shine in the sunlight, happy and easy.
As Sephiroth stares at him, he’s not sure there is any coming back from Zack Fair.