*In Sickness and in Health*

(Zack snippet, ff7 pregame)

The ocean breeze smelled strongly of seaweed and salt, reminding him of other coasts and other nights in ways not necessarily unpleasant. Sephiroth stuffed his hands in his pockets as he stood on the surf line. The water occasionally made it as far as his boots, he would have to be careful to clean them later or the leather would crack. Staring at the water as it reflected the waning sunlight was soothing, distracting him from the nameless anxiety that had struck mid-report as he sat at his desk. If Zack had been there, he’d have doubtless made some crack about graves, and people walking on them. The shaggy-headed officer was out running a patrol around the back half of the island and wasn’t due back for another hour in all likelihood. Sweeping up monsters and militants after a suspicious shipwreck, the general snorted in disgust.

The army had become little better than the president’s personal mop-up squad since the end of the war. It was a simple fact that there was no one left to fight. The flexibility and terrifying reputation of the SOLDIER squads at least meant that they could be kept in the field even with just small chores. The standing army had little to do but sit around and collect base pay while waiting for the next parade to start. Waiting, it was something he was all too familiar with. After over two decades in the army, he wondered if maybe it was finally time to move on.

He’d save the thought for Zack when he reappeared. The man enjoyed a good laugh.

Sephiroth could hear the trucks long before he could see them. Something about the ragged sound of tires on the gravel soil warned him that the drivers were going considerably faster than strictly necessary. He sighed, wondering how his second had talked the usually well-behaved captains into a drag race, and how much the men stood to lose by betting against the wild-haired officer. They never learned. The sound of the engines shifted as the pair of jeeps cleared the hill, roaring unrepentantly down over the sandy track and into the middle of camp. They skidded to a halt amidst a cloud of dust.

“Medic! Jonsey get your ass out here on the double! We got a situation, man!”

Pavan was shouting even before he had hopped out of the truck, moving to hastily assist the two men in the second vehicle as the lifted a third over the back. Lieutenant Carlson hopped out of the driver’s seat, also moving to assist. Even at distance, the general counted heads, not needing to guess who the ‘situation’ was. He swore silently and began his hike back to the camp. The small base shifted from lazy to alert in moments, some moved to take charge of the vehicles, others simply watched in alarm as Zack was braced up on both sides and helped towards the tent, left leg of his pants liberally soaked in blood. The major got about three steps before he doubled over, dry heaving in a painful-looking way without bringing anything up. Their field medic emerged from his tent only to take one look, dart back in, and return moments later with a stone in hand. The green glitter of the counter-poison spell dancing along Zack’s body only made him look sicker.

Cursing the fact that senior officers, especially notoriously cold and aloof ones, could not just rush in, Sephiroth finally caught up with the rest of the audience. He could do nothing but watch as the SOLDIER was picked up again, and hustled away. Looking around, he caught Major Jain’s eye. The dark skinned officer winced slightly and followed him in a retreat to where the remaining truck was left abandoned. Wordlessly, he flipped back the tarp revealing the oddest sort of alligator that the general had ever seen.

“Took us by surprise down by the shore… one of the female smugglers was up a tree screaming about something so Zack went to talk her down… next thing we knew it just came out of the water like a torpedo or something… Idiot managed to toss the girl out of the way, but it latched onto his thigh and wouldn’t let go…”

The general listened to Pavan’s story with half an ear as he looked the animal over. “Venomous?”

“Well, it only took a second to kill… We ended up breaking its jaw to get it off of him though… He started feeling sick right after we got him back into the truck.”

“Nobody had a Poison Materia?”

“… I do…” The serious man looked rather harried but refused to flinch under the cool stare. “Didn’t do a damn thing… we all tried… hell, even Zack tried once he stopped puking his guts up… no luck. We figured Jones has a mastered one, so we just hustled back to base…”

Sephiroth gingerly put a hand on the carcass, feeling the familiar Mako tingle even through his glove. “… tainted. Shit.”

“Yeah, we figured that from the way it moved. The woman said it was definitely paddling around in the spill a while.” He shrugged, not knowing what else to say. “We brought him in as fast as we could.”

It wasn’t an apology. That wouldn’t have been professional. The general had known the SOLDIER for over ten years, and under normal circumstances his discipline was almost as unbending as his own. For the man to imply that he knew that one among their company was more favored than the rest was a little disconcerting. Sephiroth suddenly wondered how much the quiet officer knew, and how much he suspected.

“Thank you, major.” He skinned back the monster’s lips, to inspect the inside of its mouth. Several of the beast’s teeth had broken off during the fight. The pale officer trusted his gloves to protect against anything acidic as he pulled one free to look closer. “… hollow fangs…”

“Sir? Damn… wonder if any broke off in Zack’s leg… that could explain a lot…”

“Maybe… See if Captain Jones can use the animal to make an anti-venom if conventional methods fail.” Shrugging, the general played it cooler than he felt. “… knowing the major, he’ll likely just sleep it off, but still.”

His subordinate nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, the first twenty minutes were the worst. The toxin seems to have a wonky reaction to SOLDIER immune systems. The smuggler says the two other guys it bit both died right away. Aside from the nausea, Zack seemed pretty ok. Benefits of being a super-soldier…”

“Indeed.” Knowing he wouldn’t be let within ten feet of the field medic’s tent, and that it wouldn’t be proper to do so until he was officially briefed, Sephiroth sighed and nodded at the carcass. “See to this, will you major? And make sure the woman is put with our other guests for deportation to the city. I’ll be in my tent if any new developments should occur.”

“Yes sir.” The general ignored the discretely curious look that was cast his way. It was one thing for some of the men to suspect things; it was another to confirm them. Zack would know. Zack always knew what the SOLDIERs were thinking, sometimes even before they knew it themselves. He would have to ask the man later, if he was up to answering anything. Worried, and worried that he was being obvious in his worrying, he retreated to the safety of his tent. Somehow staring at maps and reports would have to distract him until the gruff doctor came to give his opinion.

The amount of progress he made on his reading could be measured in mere inches on the page when the medic finally arrived. It wasn’t until the knock at his door that he realized he had been glaring at his hands for minutes rather than doing anything more productive.

“Got a minute, general?”

“Come in. How’s your patient?”

The tired looking officer let out a ragged sigh. “Well… the man certainly knows how to pick’em… but hell we all knew that. He’s been a bloody idiot for as long as I’ve known him… no offense.” Sephiroth silently shook his head to dismiss the concern. His second’s risk taking was almost as legendary as his own undefeatable status.

“Poisona is not doing shit.” Scrubbing his short hair the doctor gathered his thoughts. “Although you’re welcome to try sir, god knows those stones are more cooperative with you than the rest of us combined… but Zack’s doing pretty good regardless, symptoms include dizziness, nausea, sensitivity to light, generalized stiffness and joint pain caused by swelling… and according to Pavan, projectile-vomiting… glad I missed that one. The wound in his leg could be worse, since Cure is doing no better than Poison we’ve just cleaned and pinned it and are waiting for the venom to clear out a little. Gave him a potion… Which may help if he can keep it down long enough.”

“So he’s recovering…?”

Captain Jones scratched his head again, reminding the general of his friend’s nervous habit. “Depends on if I got all the teeth out… Tested the toxin on a rat one of the boys scared up for me… it died. Figure… if Zack hasn’t dropped by now he’s got enough fight to pull through this… Venom-Mako interaction is always a worry of course, especially with the creature as contaminated as it was.”

“What do you need then.” Sephiroth could already predict what the practical man’s next words would be but propriety stated that he ask anyway.

“As chief medical officer for this unit, I have to strongly recommend immediate transport of Mr. Thomson back to civilization. I want that leg x-rayed and the toxins analyzed before he decides he’s going to develop some sort of weird allergic reaction to it. He should be somewhere that can keep him under observation for 36 to 48 hours, and the scientists should look at the alligator-thing before it starts to break down.” He grinned sourly. “I really don’t want to have to send guys out to catch a second one if I can help it.’

‘I see…” Only habit made him pause before coming to a decision. “Very well, Mr. Jones. I will see what I can do.”

“Thank you sir.” The grizzled field surgeon -one of only four officers in camp who were not SOLDIERs, but a long-familiar face just the same- paused at the door. “He seems just fine mentally speaking. Clear headed, responding well to questions… If you can spare a minute he’d probably appreciate a visit… good for morale…”

For the second time that evening Sephiroth could have sworn he was on the receiving end of a half worried, half thoughtful look, and cursing himself he resolved to deal with the issue as soon as possible. He didn’t like surprises, and not knowing who knew what was going to make him crazy. He contented himself with a non-committal, “Maybe later.”

“Yes sir.” Strictly business, the medical officer sketched a salute and escaped from the tent.

Leaning back to flip several switches, the general powered up the long-range radio with a sigh. He could have gotten one of his captains to take care of the call, but he had a hunch that it would take every ounce of authority he could muster to get one of Heidegger’s deck-monkeys to release a Gelinka transport chopper over to him on no-notice.

Surely enough it took several threats and a promise of reassignment to the south-pole observatory before he found an officer with enough brainpower to understand what was being requested and carry it out without extra questions. Satisfied, he pulled the headset off and found himself wishing for coffee. With Zack in the infirmary he would be forced to make his own. It just wasn’t the same. Not for the first time he chided himself on becoming spoilt.

It had gotten cooler with the sun long gone, but there was ample moonlight to see by as he picked his way across camp. The dark haired SOLDIER would have likely forgiven him for playing it cold and not checking in on him, but he couldn’t help but want to see for himself what shape the man was in. Worried, he acknowledged to himself. This wasn’t Wutai anymore, he didn’t need to prove himself had done more and gone further than any had ever expected, if he wanted to worry, he would damn well do it and to hell with his reputation. No one would believe the lapse anyway. The legend was far more interesting than the man behind it. Sighing in frustration, he slipped into the medical tent.

The captain looked up from a test tube, not at all surprised to see him. “He’s resting in back. Try not to let him get sick on your boots.”

“Lovely.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Smirking, the general moved to quietly claim the small stool next to the one occupied bed, feeling awkwardly too-large in the cramped space. His own discomforts were rapidly forgotten as the solitary patient cracked open a single eye to give him an amused look.

“…And to what do I owe this honor…” Zack’s voice was raw, barely above a whisper.

“You look like shit.” Not the most cheerful thing to say, but he couldn’t help himself. His second in command was almost gray despite his quick-to-tan skin. Feverish and sweating beneath his blanket, he looked no better than when they had hauled him off the truck.

“I feel like shit. So that’s probably about right.” The officer raised a visibly shaky hand to try and push his hair back from his forehead. The stubborn locks flopped forward again a moment later. “…Sorry for all the trouble…”

“…Like you could ever resist a damsel in distress…” He snorted quietly. A soft sound of rustling papers distracted him, and looking up he found the surgeon was making a quiet exit. “… god damn it…”

“… What’s up?”

“… Has someone out-ed me lately without my knowing, Zack? Or is there some other reason people are walking on eggshells around me…” He gave his old friend an exasperated look. “What have you been telling the men, Mr. Thomson…”

“Grilling a sick man? That’s just tacky Seph… There are articles of war about things like that…” Eyes dancing in mirth, the shaggy haired SOLDIER seemed to draw strength from the challenge.

“Only when interrogating the enemy,” the pale man smirked.

“Too true.” Zack tried to laugh, but the effort caused him to start gagging instead. A few long controlled breaths soon had him back under control. “Shit… Already got rid of everything I ate last week… now I’m getting a head-start on the next one…”

“The captain seems to have left a bucket here for you…”

“How kind…” The dark haired man curled as tight as his injured leg would allow, cursing his stomach softly. “… Anyway… haven’t told anyone anything, old man… you know me better than that. They’re not stupid, you know… give’em five years and they’re bound to start figuring things out…”

“What things, Zack…” Not wanting to push, he still had to know. It was his career that was potentially on the line.

The sick man smiled up at him with a trace of irony. “… that we’re friends, asshole. They know how grouchy you get without me to take care of you… and they’re worried, that’s all… Kinda sweet, huh?”

“…Friends…?” He didn’t know if he was relieved or annoyed.

“God forbid the great general Sephiroth commander of the eastern sea, military genius, and undefeatable champion of the great and mighty Shinra corporation…”

“…Zack…”

“… have a friend.” The man finished airily, talking right over his complaint. Trying and not quite succeeding to muster a lecherous look, he grinned. “Why, what did you think they knew…?”

“…Nevermind.”

“Ye of little faith… They’re loyal. Stop being so paranoid. I’d know if Hojo was trying to buy someone.”

“… everyman has a price, Zack.”

“Not you.” The officer smiled gently, exhaustion making him look older than he was. “… and not me either. So let it go.” Alone, there was no reason to pull away when his hand reached out to cover the general’s in reassurance.

“Idiot.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the SOLDIER ill; there was something unnerving about it. Sephiroth shed a glove, the one not concealing the tattoo he hated so much, and returned the touch. The fingers between his felt as capable as ever despite their temporary shivers. Letting go he pushed back the wild locks of hair and for once they obeyed. His friend’s forehead was clammy to the touch but he ran a knuckle along it anyway, wondering if the gesture was as soothing to receive as it was to give. Zack’s eyes were half-closed, watching him, barely. “… what am I going to do with you…”

“Yell and scream and pitch a fit until a doctor finds me an anti-venom that works…? Don’t know about you, old man… but I hate being sick.” The murmur was full of rueful amusement.

“Already have done… Your ride will be here in about five hours… you’ll be in Midgar by the afternoon. Captain Jones was most insistent.”

“… was he now… and you think you’ll survive here a whole week without me…?”

“We’ll muddle through somehow.” Deliberately replacing the singular with the plural, the general pulled back slightly stopping himself from doing anything that would exceed simple ‘friendship’. He did not however let go. “You’ll have to share the chopper with some supplies, and the remains of your opponent… hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t need red carpet treatment, Seph. I’d just track mud on it anyway… anything you want taken care of once I’m back in the office?”

“You think you’ll be on your feet before I get back?”

“Sure thing, old man. I’m not the one of the two of us who is staring retirement in the eye within the next few years.” Zack smirked. “I’ve got plenty of youthful vigor left.”

“Oh, like the extra two years really matters…”

“Two years longer than you’ve got,” the man refused to be dissuaded.

“In that case, I’ll let you get started on the paperwork. It’ll keep you from being too bored as you are mending.” The pale officer heard the doctor slip back into the tent and discretely replaced his glove. “Try and nap for the next few hours, I need to pull together some things.”

“… don’t forget to sleep.”

“Zack! Don’t nag me.” The officer blinked mildly at his scolding.

“Yessir.”

Nodding to the medic as he passed, he caught ‘the look’ again, this time recognizing it for what it was. Sympathy, his mind balked at the idea. No one had ever offered him sympathy before, no one but Zack. Ten years ago it would have revolted him, five and it would have annoyed. Now, he didn’t know what to make of it. Sephiroth sighed as he settled back behind his desk. In five more years he would be forty. The number boggled the mind. Forty was old… too old? He didn’t know if such thing applied to SOLDIERs, and even if they did, he was not exactly of the same stuff as his men. Did that mean he wanted to postpone retirement until he was fifty? Postpone it indefinitely? He knew what Zack would do the minute his friend reached the dubious milestone. A long ago conversation involving cabins in the hills and broken down trucks ghosted through his memory and caused the pale officer to shake his head in disbelief. There was still time to decide, a few years left before the ‘r-word’ became a hot topic. Stuffing various papers into a valise and then moving on to do the same Zack’s personal effects he considered that maybe it was time he learned how to paint.

*****