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Chapter Two: Bruised

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The rest of the evening the two sat together on Zack's couch conversing about not much of anything but the silly sitcom in front of them on the television. Zack only laughed at it because Cloud was laughing at it, as it really brought no sense of entertainment to him.

Little did Zack know that Cloud was only laughing at it because Zack was laughing at it.

They had finished their respective meals and even had to store some in Zack's empty refrigerator, as Cloud had been a bit overzealous about the selection he brought back for Zack. He wasn't sure what the SOLDIER would or wouldn't like.

Zack was hardly picky and would eat about anything placed in front of him. Save for maybe especially green vegetables. Those he ate, but with not much pleasure. His parents always taught him to eat everything on his plate and he obeyed. It was much easier for him knowing that he could eat anything, rather than have to worry about not liking something, and fret over it.

Cloud, on the other hand had certain tastes, and those didn't include green things, and sweet things.

So Zack ate his dessert as well.

"I can't believe you don't like cake!" Zack said, teasing Cloud, who was washing a few dishes behind in the kitchen. Zack stretched out like a cat, his muscles trembling as he did so; he felt good, despite the pain in his leg.

"Only sometimes," he said casually, the sound of the dishes clanking as he set them in the dish rack.

"Aren't kids supposed to enjoy those sort of things?" Zack's eyes suddenly felt heavy, and he fought with them to stay open. Slipping into a food-induced coma was one of his favorite pastimes.

A chuckle filled Zack's ears as Cloud came back around to the couch and plopped down. Zack's eyes shot open with a short gasp, but Cloud didn't seem to notice his lethargic friend besides him. "I'm not a kid."

Zack snorted a laugh, too tired to reply with a sarcastic retort as he normally would have in any other situation. Sleep was winning the battle of wits, at the moment.

Cloud finally noticed this and smiled at him softly. He watched as Zack's head slowly lowered, his shoulders sinking down. Cloud had never seen him so vulnerable-looking. He was always so alert, so animate. Even out in the field on missions he was perky and jubilant until the others begged him to go to sleep. He usually pouted for several moments, then just obeyed like a restless puppy and went to sleep in under a minute. Going from bouncing around like a jittery Cactuar to sound asleep always astounded everyone who worked with him.

But now he lay there on his couch, his legs propped up on the coffee table, his arms folded across his chest and his chin was against his neck. He was snoring steadily.

Cloud nodded to himself, deciding now was the best time to check. He walked around to the other side of the couch and kneeled down. He placed a gentle hand on Zack's left thigh, slowly lifting the ripped material in the pants to peer at the wound. He forced himself to stay strong as there was some blood surrounding the fabric and the bandage underneath. He couldn't get a good enough look with that angle as it was centered more towards his inner thigh.

He stood, frowning to himself. He had noticed a soft sheen of sweat on Zack's face and was worried that he may have been running a fever. Infection could spread quick, Cloud knew, as it happened to him once with a simple scrape on his hand.

Within hours of the injury, pain had increased ten fold, and a red blotch appeared around the area on Cloud's hand. It soon tripled in size in under six hours. After blood work, several x-rays and a tetanus shot in the shoulder, he was on antibiotics for two weeks afterward. All from scraping his hand on the safety of his assault rifle, ironically enough. So he was more than cautious when it came to this sort of thing. He had to get a better look, as Zack would probably ignore the injury as if nothing even happened.

Cloud got to his hands and knees and ducked under Zack's legs which were sprawled out on the table. He poked his head up from between his legs, looking around nervously. This was quite awkward, and he only hoped that Zack would stay asleep during his amateur exam.

Shaking hands reached out and lifted the torn fabric again. He leaned in close, his heart thumping in his chest. He raised up from sitting on his heels and got even closer. Tilting his head slightly to the side, he managed to peer in and see normal colored skin surrounding the bandage, so he relaxed a bit.

That was until Zack let out a sleepy laugh, flinching under Cloud's gentle touch.

Cloud soon found a pair of hands running through his hair mindlessly. "Z-Zack...?" He tried to glance up but Zack's hands were gripping the sides of his head firmly as he continued to let out little breathless laughs.

A laugh rumbled deep from his throat. "...That tickles."

Muscles were frozen in the boy's body at the purr that came from the SOLDIER. It made Cloud's heart forget its rhythm, and left Cloud as breathless as Zack was at that moment. He panicked. He hadn't realized prior to this that to see inside the pair of trousers had caused him to become dangerously close to Zack's groin area. He could feel his body heat against his flushed skin.

Moving was impossible under the strength of the SOLDIER, so he just kneeled there, waiting for him to move, or wake up, or something. It was nerve-wracking.

Although the blond had to admit that he was sort of enjoying this. Whether or not because it was just a comical situation, or that the idea of how close he was to Zack at that moment, were the possible factors in this enjoyment. Often he would imagine what it would be like to be between Zack's legs, but embarrassment and shame quickly filled his head during those thoughts, and quickly wiped them away.

He realized that Zack's fingers were still intertwined with his hair, and were going nowhere, after several moments of kneeling there confined between strong hands. His legs were staring to tingle from the strange position. He tried to move, but his head brushed up against Zack's crotch and just made the man tighten his grip to a borderline painfully erotic squeeze through his hair. "Zack...?" He felt bad for trying to wake him, but he needed his head back. "Wake up!"

Zack flinched, his eyes shooting open. He looked down at Cloud in disbelief. Then he looked at his hands on his head in the same light. This was a rather suggestive scene.

"Cloud?" he said, dumbfounded.

"Zack?" he said, dumbfounded, as well.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Um...you have my head in your hands," Cloud mumbled, rather blatantly.

"Why?"

"I...don't know."

And his head was released from the warm hands.

Cloud sat back on his heels, still between Zack's legs. "I-I was just checking...for...infection."

Zack slowly straightened himself up on the couch and lowered his legs from off the table. His eyes darted about in groggy confusion at what he had awoken to. "S-sorry."

"Um...me...too." Cloud stood, not wanting to make eye contact with Zack, and Zack was doing the same. A strange vibe fell onto the both of them, and they stirred in their positions.

"I-I should go. It's...late." He uncomfortably rubbed the back of his neck, worried that this situation may have done something to hinder their friendship. "Uh...I need to report...back to the barracks for lights out soon..." he trailed off as Zack nodded numbly in response.

Cloud turned and walked swiftly to the front door, jamming his feet into his issued boots without bothering to tie them. "I-if you need help with your injury...just call me and I'll sneak out," he mumbled, throwing the door open.

"Y-yeah...see ya Cloud..."

And with that Cloud shut the door behind him, his footsteps fading down the hall.

Zack was hoping that Cloud hadn't noticed the growing arousal between his legs while he was down there.


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Alarm; shouting; gasps; scrambling; more shouting; scurried shuffling; beds being made; uniforms being thrown on; more shouting.

This was Cloud's morning in the barracks.

Except for this morning he was especially and individually being shouted at by a 3rd Class SOLDIER two inches from his face.

"And where the fuck were you last night, Strife!?"

"Sir!" Cloud straightened, his hands sliding to his sides stiffly. His light blue eyes stared through the man in front of him, as he learned that actually looking into their eyes would cause more shouting. It was also easier to detach himself from the situation by looking through them. Don't look in his eyes, don't look in his eyes.

"You heard me, you little fuck! Now answer me."

"Sir! I returned late from a mission with 1st Class Fair. Sir!" A bead of sweat rolled down his nervous face, and it showed.

"The reports said you returned at 1830! So where the fuck were you?"

"S-sir...?"

"S-s-s-s-s-s..." he mocked Cloud's startled stutter as he craned his neck to peer farther into him.

The nervous boy could hear the chuckles from other infantrymen around him.

"Shut up, assholes!" The 3rd's face temporarily left Cloud's little bubble as he turned his head to shout at the snickering men besides him in the inspection line. And to Cloud's dismay, the face was returned again. He was thankful that the man was chewing on a wad of mint gum otherwise this would have been even more uncomfortable for his sensitive nose. This, however, didn't save him from the man spitting on him as he yelled.

"Fuck you, you little fuck, you better answer me, and quick."

He forced himself to stop trembling, but his voice came out a bit more unstable than he hoped for. "Sir! There was an incident on our mission that required us to visit the infirmary afterwards, Sir! It took longer than expected, Sir!"

Cloud suddenly found a good portion of his uniform blouse bundled up in the fist of the 3rd before him. He was pulled close, his legs having the weight of his upper body being stolen from them. He refrained from letting out a startled yelp.

"You're a piece of shit, you know that, Strife?"

Cloud wriggled under his grasp. No matter what the officers said to them, no matter how they berated them, or swore at them, they were forbidden to touch them in any way under code of conduct. He hoped that his uniform was the only thing the 3rd was going to touch.

"Sir...!"

"I don't fucking like you, Strife," was the last thing the man said before he lifted the boy a foot off of the ground with his strength, and threw him against the metal bed frame behind him. The bunk bed screeched across the tiled floor from the force, and Cloud sank down, gritting his teeth. The 3rd smirked before walking past the shocked faces of the infantry unit.

A nearby grunt went to leave the inspection line to help Cloud who was on his knees, gripping his left side in pain. The frame of the bed was buckled inward in the shape of Cloud's chest.

"Don't you dare fuckin' help him!" The 3rd now got into the infantryman's face. "Don't any of you fuckin' help that little fuck, you hear me?" He continued his march down the line towards the exit. "And clean your goddamn weapons before I get back!"

"Sir!" was the shocked and collective voice from the line, save for Cloud who was writhing on the tiled floor.

"What a dick," someone muttered, as that voice and two others surrounded Cloud, disobeying the orders from the 3rd after he made his exit.

Shaking from trauma and pain, Cloud was hoisted up to his feet from several of his peers, who at the moment he couldn't recognize through the agony in his rib cage. He was just thankful that some people at least cared for him in his unit, even if he was the black sheep of everyone.

"You okay, Strife?"

Cloud felt a hand at his side gently as two other hands were at his shoulders, steadying him. "F-fine..."

"Anything feel broken, yeah?"

Cool air touched his hot skin, and he gasped at the sensation as his shirt was lifted by someone.

Pressure, pain, pressure, pain. This repeated as someone tenderly touched his side, feeling for signs of fracture.

"I think it's just bruised, yeah."

"What a fuckin' dick. I swear I'll kick Mejia's scrawny ass one day." A low, husky voice that carried a hint of blood-lust.

He started to recognize voices now. That was Graves.

"Wait until this gets reported to the Brass. They'll enjoy hearing this." That was Elici, the calm collective tone being unmistakable.

"Do you want me to take you to the infirmary, yeah?" Ratcliff this time. He often ended his sentences with 'yeah'. It was annoying at first when Cloud got to know him, but after a while he hardly noticed it.

"N-no..." He was breathing slowly, as inflating his lungs with oxygen pressed against his ribs quite painfully. "I'll be fine. You shouldn't be helping me anyway. Go clean your weapons."

Graves laughed. "This guy! Orderin' us around!"

The other two chuckled and Cloud joined in forcefully.

"Oh shit, will ya be able ta do the hump today now?" Graves said, his hand going to his scruffy chin in thought.

"How many miles is it anyway, yeah?"

"Seven," Elici said slowly, regretfully.

The four grimaced, Cloud now having two reasons to make that expression.

Elici rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around with green eyes to the other men who were migrating to the metal tables to clean their weapons as ordered. "Well, I'm gonna sneak out and tell someone about this." He nodded to himself, his brown hair swaying in front of his face.

"N-no." Cloud reached out a hand to stop him, but retracted it as pain denied him of this intended movement. "Don't. He'll retaliate."

"Not if his ass is in the brig." Graves cracked his knuckles through leather gloves, habitually. He did this often and made the others cringe. He stopped, realizing that the other three looked at him with disdain. A wide toothy grin covered his dark face.

Ratcliff spoke for Cloud now, sensing that the blond really didn't want this to leak from the confines of the barracks. "No, leave it alone for now, yeah?" He placed a hand on the shaking boy besides him. "Don't upset him more, yeah?"

Cloud was thankful that he had at least some friends, even though they were rather strange in their own respects. After the incident last night with Zack, he was afraid he might be one down on the few friends he actually had. A knot formed in his stomach, realizing this.

"Hey, why don't you lie down. I'll clean your gun for you, yeah?"

"And if anyone has a fuckin' problem with that, I'll kick yer ass!" Graves shouted to the men, who just looked up at him questionably, and then resumed going about their business, disassembling and reassembling their weapons with a soft chatter.

Cloud shook his head, forcing his hand that was nursing his side down. "No, I'm good."

The three just peered at him.


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The rain was soaking into everything around. It created a cold blanket of woe and dread on the silent men who trudged along the muddy wastelands outside of the city. Nothing but the sound of the rain and the heavy packs on the men's backs shuffling with their steps was heard, until a young blond cadet let out a stifled cry of pain. He fell to his knees, clutching his side.

Everyone continued their pace, walking around the fallen cadet, ignoring any movement but their own. Their minds pressed on in their heads, staring blankly at the path before them, rounding their fifth mile as they hiked back towards the city. It didn't appear to become any closer as the weight on their backs and the rain soaking into their uniforms hindered their spirit. It did nothing but cause their goal to slip further away with each labored step.

"Strife! Get the fuck up!" Mejia's voice was screaming at him from behind the pack.

Cloud moaned quietly, the man's voice rather distant in his ears. Searing pain enveloped his side and worsened as his hundred pound pack on his shoulders began to slip off to the side. It tugged him towards the ground, and his eyes glazed over in a welcoming numbness. He could hear nothing but an echo of his breathing in his ears. Everything else around him became silent.

He could see through half-lidded eyes the face of Mejia shouting at him only inches away, but he couldn't make out what he was saying, thankfully. His blue eyes trailed down and watched as hands gripped his uniform. As if in slow motion, he was pulled up to his feet roughly, but he felt nothing. A white hue of light began to creep into the corners of his eyes. He watched as the scenery around him began to waver and fluctuate. He could feel his body begin to fall.

But he stopped. Had Mejia caught him?

"What happened, Strife?"

His senses were snapped back and he could suddenly hear the rain around him, and the distant footsteps that were fading away in front of him. His eyes lazily trailed up to the rest of his unit continuing on. He saw Elici glance back from the middle, but then resumed with the pack.

Mejia was standing in front of him, his hands no where near his body.

"Strife?"

Cloud turned his head in a daze, and his eyes met those of Kunsel. "Sir?"

"You dehydrated?"

"Sir?"

A grin broke out on his face from beneath his issued helmet. "Hang on, let's get you your water." He reached down, his hand brushing up against his injured side as he removed the canteen off of his waist.

Cloud cried out, the pain stabbing across the nerves in his rib cage.

"What the hell happened, Strife? When did you get hurt?"

Cloud's eyes nervously darted up to Mejia who stood there with a smugness that seeped out a threatening aura to the young blond.

"Y-yesterday...at the training mission with Zack."

"1st Class Fair," Mejia said. "You will address him correctly when speaking of him, runt."

Kunsel looked up and shot Mejia a look that caused him to retract his head, shutting his mouth. Kunsel's face softened, looking down at Cloud. "Why didn't you get this looked after?"

"Sir, why are you wasting your time with this little fuck?"

"Angels! Get your ass back up with the unit!" Kunsel said, and Mejia obeyed, turning after an apologetic salute. He jogged up to continue his reign of power over the rest of the group. His swearing and yells were drowned out from the screaming rain.

"Well Cloud?" His hand was on Cloud's trembling back, rubbing it slightly as if comforting him. "You shouldn't push yourself this hard." The hand was removed from his back and Cloud could hear the sound of the top on the canteen being unscrewed with a squeak. It was brought to the cadet's parted lips.

Cloud reached up and took it, taking a half-hearted swig of water. It just drizzled down his chin mindlessly. Kunsel wondered if he even ingested any at all.

"Sorry, sir."

"Kunsel," he said, correcting him. There was no point in formalities, when it was just be the two of them. "Don't worry about formalities when it's just us, okay?" He was kind and gentle, like Zack. Cloud really liked when he was assigned to lead over the unit; he felt at ease when he was there.

"I'm sorry, I'll catch up. I just...got a little overwhelmed." He seemed eager to follow the unit as Mejia was making his way back to them. A sudden panic formed on his face which caused Kunsel to lift his eyebrows in question.

"How did you say you hurt yourself yesterday, again?" Kunsel observed as Cloud nervously darted a gaze between Mejia and himself. "I heard that Zack was injured, and not you."

"I just...didn't want Zack to know. He worries about me too much, and he really shouldn't. So I didn't say anything to anyone. I'll be fine," he said all in one short breath.

The 2nd Class just nodded silently, watching as Mejia reached them once more. "Okay Strife, back to the hump."

Cloud nodded and readjusted his pack on his shoulders before awkwardly trotting off to regroup.

Kunsel's sudden cold gaze turned to Mejia who was shrouded in a bundle of nervous energy.

"What'd he say?"

"About what, Angels?"

"A-about his injury. How'd he get it?"

Kunsel's eyes burned straight into the 3rd as if reading into his min,d and it made Mejia squirm in his skin. He panicked, wondering what exactly was exchanged between the two. Had Cloud ratted him out? He shifted nervously on his feet.

"If I ever see you touch any of these men like that again, I will have you stripped of your rank faster than you'll have time to blink, Angels. Is that clear?"

"Sir, I only touched him because he was fall-"

"Is that clear?"

"S-sir."

"Move out!"

"Sir!" Mejia turned on his heels and sprinted off to catch up to the men who were now a good distance away. Kunsel watched as Cloud who was following, slipped slightly in the mud, but carried on.

A hand went to his pocket and fished out his cell phone. He flipped it open with a click and dialed a number with ease. "Hey," Kunsel said as the phone was answered with a short greeting on the other end. "You got a minute?" His hearing was strained through the wind and the rain around. "What happened yesterday on the training mission?"


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...To be continued in Chapter Three: Young Bones; Little Birdie