The Second Day - Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core (Zack, m; Kunsel, m; OC, m) UPDATED 1 SEP 2023

[SexualOddity]

I wrote this one for @solitaire-au who wanted barracks-illness fic.  Since they’re not familiar with Final Fantasy VII, I’ve tried to make this accessible to anyone who doesn’t know the fandom.

These guys are part of a special forces unit that get artificial enhancement to improve their combat abilities.  There is one off-hand reference to canon, and I’ll explain it at the end, but it also wouldn’t matter if you didn’t follow it.

 

I had a blast writing this Solitaire - thank you for nudging me in this direction!  (Also, sorry - I totally forgot about the messaging restrictions during validation.  I did check, but I can’t message you either - fingers crossed I might have ticked some of your boxes accidentally without your direction)

 

—

 

Kunsel reached for his phone when it beeped. After looking at the message, he dropped it back on the bed with a roll of his eyes.

 

Sat at Kunsel’s side, Cam glanced at the phone on the mattress but he didn’t comment.  Instead, he dragged a hand over his face, rubbing his fingertips against his eyes.

 

Kunsel sneezed, and tried to pay attention to the movie playing on his tablet. After a few minutes, he picked up the phone again and answered the message.

 

Come train with me?

 

Get lost Fair.  I already told you that I’m sick.

 

He put the phone back down again, pressed a knuckle against his nose and shut his eyes.  He was so tired of feeling like this.  On the bottom bunk, across the room, Dale sneezed.  Kunsel remembered something and reached for the phone again.

 

I thought you said you were going on assignment?

 

The reply came through almost immediately.

 

They rejected me.

 

Kunsel rested chin on his hand, propping his elbow against the bed frame.  He frowned at his phone.

 

It was bait, probably - partial answers to draw him in.  Zack knew Kunsel couldn’t resist a mystery.    He groaned, helpless, and handed the tablet to Cam.  Reaching into their shared tissue box, he grabbed a handful to press against his nose and he stepped out of the door.

 

“This better be a good story,” he said into the phone when the call connected.

 

“I didn’t promise a good story,” Zack said at the other end of the line.  “They just didn’t want me.”

 

Kunsel rubbed wearily at his forehead.  Something seemed off, but Kunsel didn’t have the energy for an interrogation. “Okay, Zack, I’m tired.  Can I please have some detai… Oh.”

 

It suddenly occurred to him that Zack sounded different.  The little catch in his throat, the muffled round-ness of his words.  The line wasn’t great, but that wasn’t all it was.

 

“It got you too.”

 

“It got me too,” came the confirmation.  “Normally I’d hide it better but I couldn’t stop sneezing.”

 

“Ha.  Yeah.  That’s a feature.”

 

“Well, it’s settled right down now.  Saved it all for the briefing room,” Zack said bitterly.

 

“Hey, take it as a good thing,” Kunsel told him, the insistence in his voice only partly about self-preservation.  “Rest up.  Have a one-day cold for once in your life.”

 

There was a non-committal hum from the other end of the line.  Kunsel rolled his eyes.  It’d been worth a try.

 

There was a pattern to minor illness in SOLDIERS.  They still seemed to get sick just as readily - probably the close quarters - but mako enhancement meant that they could recover fast.  It took one day, if they took it easy.  Otherwise, they were looking at two.  It might be that mako could only do so much at once - if it was having to pump up fighting ability it wasn’t wiping out viruses.  Kunsel didn’t know the science behind it, but he did know that it had always held true.

 

Kunsel rarely had coughs or colds that lasted for two days.  That was because Kunsel was smart.  Most things could be put off by one day, and he didn’t see much point in feeling like crap for any longer than he needed to.  His usual plan was to blast though anything that he absolutely couldn’t delay and then take himself the hell to bed.

 

He dropped the phone to his side, twisting away, his nose itching.

 

“HhUSHHhuh! USHhUH!”

 

That expert strategy hadn’t panned out for him this time.  That was pissing him off.  This cold had come on right at the heavy end of an assignment when sick leave really hadn’t been an option.  As soon as he’d arrived back in Midgar he’d dragged himself up to their room, resigning himself to a second day of feeling shitty and resolving to disappear under the covers until it all went away.

 

“Bless you man,” Zack said, when Kunsel brought the phone back to his ear.  “You know, you’re already on your second day.  You’re gonna be better tomorrow no matter what you do…”

 

Kunsel shook his head.  Of course that would be his reasoning.   By comparison, Zack had never shifted a cough or cold in a single day in his life.

 

“I told you.  I’m not doing anything today.  I didn’t call up to delay my mission report just so that I could entertain your sorry ass.”

 

Kunsel gasped as the itch in his nose bounced back with immediate necessity.  “HAH’USHH!”  He fumbled the phone, barely managing to cover his face in time.  Sniffling, he brought it back to his ear with a groan.  “Okay. I’m going back to bed.”  He ran a hand over his face, shutting his eyes.  “Will you please do the same? Don’t be an idiot.”

 

—

 

“Everything okay?” Dale asked from his bed when Kunsel came back into the room.  Dale’s voice was starting to sound rough - thick and scratchy.  He buried his head against his knees and dissolved into harsh coughing.

 

“Yeah,” Kunsel winced.  “Was Zack.”

 

Dale froze where he was, bent over.  He gave a long groan.

 

“I don’t think I’d enjoy Zack when I’m sick,” Cam said from Kunsel’s bed.

 

Kunsel laughed.  “Oh have you not had the pleasure?  You’re in for a treat.”  He sank onto the bed.  “Me and Dale thought we’d left all this behind when he moved out.”

 

“Is he coming here?” Dale growled.

 

“He didn’t say, but it’s a matter of time, probably.”

 

“Can we sedate him before he arrives?”

 

Kunsel shrugged.  “He’s sick too if that helps.”

 

Dale’s expression darkened.  “He’s worse when he’s sick.  Gets bored.”

 

Kunsel and Marc - another one of their bunk mates - had been up for the better part of the night coughing and sneezing and shuffling.  Kunsel couldn’t imagine that anyone in the room had gotten much sleep.  Marc had rested up on his first day though, so he had woken tired, but largely recovered.  Kunsel had woken feeling like warmed-over crap, and two of his other dorm-mates - Dale and Cam - had woken to the fresh hell of their own first days.

 

Fortunately, both Dale and Cam were entirely on board with Kunsel’s strategy, so they had called in sick and organised an epic day of doing as little as possible.  Dale had a novel he wanted to read, Kunsel and Cam had a stack of movies.    For most of the morning, everything went pretty much to plan.

 

The next time they heard anything was after they had finished their first movie, and the sequel, and they were most of the way through the third instalment.  It must have been approaching lunchtime because Kunsel was vaguely hungry, but he hadn’t bothered to check the time.

 

He looked up at the sound of a sneeze in the hallway.  That wasn’t unusual.  The whole barracks had been a cacophony of coughs and sneezes since Kunsel had come back the day before.  He thought that that particular sneeze had sounded distantly familiar though, and he’d noticed Dale shuffle on the other side of the room.

 

“That sound like Zack?” Kunsel asked, and Dale intimated his agreement with a sinister hum.

 

Kunsel dragged himself off the bed and shambled across the room to open the door.  Sure enough, Zack was outside with a big bag of takeout and a tired grin.

 

“Ran into Marc in the VR room.  He said you were all sick.  Thought you might appreciate some food.”

 

Cam leaned forward on the bed, “Did you forget that you’re sick too?”

 

“Can’t forget,” Zack answered, rubbing at his nose with a fist.  “Nose won’t stop itching.”  He sat down heavily on Kunsel’s bed (without asking, naturally).  “Sneezing came back,” he told Kunsel directly, probably an update from their earlier conversation.

 

Cam sat up suddenly at Zack’s side.  “What happened to your shirt?”

 

“Oh… uh…yeah.” Zack pulled the fabric taut and inspected it.  “Badly timed sneeze - didn’t work out so great for me.”

 

“It’s virtual fucking reality,” Dale said from across the room.  “You’d think they’d come up with a way to make it not actually hurt us.”

 

Kunsel moved closer to get a better look, and gave an exasperated sigh.  Zack’s uniform was ripped in three jagged lines - claw marks probably.  Kunsel couldn’t see much underneath, but Zack’s chest looked generally red.

 

He made a beckoning movement with his fingers.  “Shirt off.”

 

Zack immediately complied, unclipping his shoulder plates so that he could drag his turtleneck over his head.  “You think I’ll be in the shit for ruining another uniform?”

 

Kunsel shrugged.  “I think if they’re gonna make the VR monsters able to rip us open, then they have to suffer the consequences.”

 

Zack cupped both hands over his face and sneezed. Cam handed over the box of tissues.

 

“Needs stitches,” was Dale’s immediate assessment.

 

“Eh,” Zack said, waving away the suggestion.  “It’ll heal up soon.  Scar’ll just make me look tougher.”

 

Dale gave a grunt, but otherwise didn’t comment.

 

They couldn’t judge Zack too harshly for this one.  All of them had pushed the boundaries of their enhanced healing and earned a few unnecessary scars in reward.  As a general rule it seemed a lesser cost than spending an hour in a medical facility.

 

“Should at least dress it,” Kunsel said.  “Don’t think you want an infection on top of your cold.  Sit tight.  I’ll find the first aid kit.”

 

“Th-hhh-thanks… buddy… HHhRESHhhUH!”

 

Kunsel dug through potions and materia and found the box in the back of the cupboard.  He turned back to Zack, who was bent over on the bed, scrubbing furiously at his nose.

 

“Okay.  Sit up.  Let me take a look.”

 

Zack straightened.  The bottom claw marks were just nasty scratches really, already starting to scab over.  The top one was deep.  It wasn’t bleeding any more, but the skin was puckered and separated.  Cam shuffled over to let Kunsel sit down next to Zack.

 

“You know…” Kunsel said, digging through the first aid box with a cough.  “This is exactly the kind of shit I didn’t want to do today.”

 

Zack held out his palm for the first aid kit.  “Here, I got it.”

 

“Angle’s bad for you.” Kunsel said, but he added in a mutter:  “Wouldn’t have happened at all if you’d have just rested up.”

 

Zack glanced at him but he didn’t answer.

 

Kunsel wrapped a hand around Zack’s back to provide some pressure and held an antiseptic wipe against the gashes.  Beneath his hands he felt Zack’s muscles tense.

 

“You okay?”

 

Zack gave a nod and a tight-lipped smile.

 

“What happened to Marc?” Dale asked.

 

“Oh yeah.”  Zack said, hissing when Kunsel pulled the swab away with a wipe of his cuts. “Sorry, I meant to say.  They sent him on the assignment that was meant to be muhh- mine. HAH’ISCHH!”

 

“Really scrabbling for operatives, aren’t they?” Cam croaked.  “Bet the four of us are shipped out the minute we get better.”

 

Zack’s stomach clenched beneath the dressing that Kunsel was trying to hold in place.  His nose creased.  “Hahh… Hah’ESCHhHAH!” He pulled away from Kunsel as he sneezed.

 

Zack straighted, and Kunsel re-set the bandage with one hand, fishing in the first aid kit for surgical tape.  He rolled his eyes when Zack’s chest started heaving again.  The hand that had been holding the gauze dropped back into his lap and he waited.

 

Zack blinked up at the ceiling.  “Huhhh…Hah… HAH’ISHHhhYew!”  He straightened with a groan, still pressing a fist against his nose.  “What is up with this cold?  I’ve never sneezed like this.”

 

“Yeah, it’s making it pretty tough to patch you up.”

 

Zack sighed and nodded.  “Okay. Gimme a sec.”  He placed his hands on the mattress, pushed himself from the bed with some apparent effort and then made his way to the bathroom, pausing for another sneeze on the way.  Kunsel heard running water and a whole lot of nose blowing before Zack eventually emerged, scrunching and unscrunching his nose as he crossed the room.

 

“Think I might be alright now.”  He sniffed.  “You guys eat the food, by the way.  Don’t wait on me.”

 

“Don’t take all the best stuff,” Kunsel chipped in, as he reached back into the first aid kit.

 

“Thanks for bringing lunch,” Dale said, coming closer to investigate the takeout bag.  He frowned at Zack as he approached Kunsel’s bed.  “Are you wet?”

 

Zack ran a hand through his hair as he sat back down beside Kunsel.  “Uh yeah, still am a little bit, probably.  I took a shower.”

 

Dale’s eyes narrowed.  “Didn’t your ma ever tell you not to run around with wet hair when you’re sick?”

 

Zack shrugged.  “Gets pretty hot in Gongaga.  Everything dries in five minutes.”

 

Kunsel was pretty sure that Gongaga was also humid, so Zack was probably full of shit, but whatever.  He didn’t have the energy to argue.

 

-

 

By the time they’d eaten, the little bit of energy Kunsel had managed to drag together had entirely drained away.  He’d have liked to stretch out and take a nap actually, but since he’d picked up Cam and Zack as interlopers on his bed, he just rested his forehead against the bedpost and let Cam load up another film.

 

Zack drummed his fingers against his knees.  He tapped his toes against the mattress.  In the end, he got entirely to his feet and took himself off to do squats in the corner.

 

Kunsel pulled his legs closer and sunk his face into his knees.  He shut his eyes, listening to the infuriating swish of Zack’s uniform as he bobbed again… and again… and again… and again.

 

“Zack,” he said, more irritation that he’d intended finding its way into his tone.  “Do you really want to feel like this for another day?”

 

“There’s no point buddy,” Dale said, crossing the room.  “He’s not gonna listen and it’s too late now anyway.”  He leant an arm on the side of Kunsel’s bunk, dropping his voice low.  “You need pain meds?”

 

Kunsel nodded, and Dale disappeared into the bathroom.

 

“Zack,” Dale said, emerging with tablets and a glass of water.  “Why don’t you go see Aerith?”

 

“Didn’t wanna make her sick.” He shrugged, apologetic.  “You guys are already sick.”

 

Zack decided he was going to the gym in the end.  Kunsel could have just about lost his shit, but Dale waved a placating hand at him and he let it go.  It was Zack’s funeral after all.

 

They watched the door shut as Zack disappeared off into the corridor.

 

“That guy,” Dale said. “Leads troops into battle.”

 

“Pretty successfully I hear,” Kunsel added.

 

Dale shook his head.  “Unbelievable.”

 

—

 

When there was a knock on the door later that evening, Kunsel groaned inwardly.  Everyone else groaned outwardly though, so at least they were all on the same page.

 

Dale stood, immediately sneezed and had to turn back to grab tissues from the bed.  He took the whole box, pulling some free to wipe his nose as he crossed the room.  Before he opened the door, he took a breath and visibly drew himself up to stand straighter.

 

“Hey.  You okay?” Zack asked from the other side of the door.

 

“‘Bout the same.”  Dale rubbed his hand against the corner of his eye.  “Why you back here?”

 

“Uh… I didn’t wanna sit alone in my room.”

 

For the first time, it occurred to Kunsel that maybe moving to a single room hadn’t felt like an upgrade to Zack - at least not on days like this, when he didn’t have the option to fill his time with work and only use the room to crash out.

 

“Okay listen.” Dale said, taking another breath.  “You’re among friends here.  There’s not a guy in this dorm who wouldn’t take a bullet for you.  You know that.  But if you’re coming back in, you gotta make this the day that you figure out how to sit still.  All of us are exhausted, and you can be a bit… energetic.”

 

Kunsel shifted on the bed to see around the doorframe.  Zack seemed to take it pretty well.  “Yeah,” he pressed his lips together with a thoughtful nod.  “Yeah, okay, I get it.  I can tone it down.  If I’m still too much, kick me out.”  He held up his palms.  “I’ll go, no questions asked.”

 

Dale clapped him on the arm.  “Appreciate it buddy.”  He frowned though, as Zack stepped into the room.  “Did you shower again?”

 

Zack shrugged.  “Trained again.  Got sweaty.”

 

“How long’s it really take to dry your hair?”

 

Zack looked at the floor, the tops of his cheeks reddening with the hint of a blush.  “The towel makes it all tangly.”

 

Dale rolled his eyes.  “You are such a pretty boy.”

 

Zack just grinned, gave a guilty shrug, and perched on the edge of the desk.  There was no deference to rank in here, and Kunsel was pretty sure Zack wouldn’t have wanted it anyway.  The dorm had it’s own hierarchy.

 

Dale was still looking at Zack.  “You sound worse than before.”

 

“Had another sneezing fit.  Kinda wrecked my voice.”  Zack’s eyebrows pinched together in a way that made Kunsel wonder whether the fit was entirely over.

 

Dale set a hand on Zack’s arm, and Kunsel gave an interested hum, leaning back against the wall to watch them.  He wondered what Dale had seen in Zack’s face.

 

“You’ve had a boatload of sneezing with this thing, haven’t you?” Dale said.  “Must have really taken it out of you.”

 

Kunsel smiled.  Only Dale could do this.  He would pivot instantly from being more gruff and more cantankerous than anyone in their twenties had a right to be, to the most empathetic and fatherly guy that Kunsel had ever met.  You couldn’t hide a thing from Dale when he was like this.  Guy could see right into your soul.  Even Zack was powerless in the face of that.  Kunsel watched as the energy sank out of him.  He curled his arm around his stomach and gave a miserable nod, his face crumpling in anticipation of another sneeze.

 

“Hh-HhRSHHHUHhh!”  Zack sniffed.  “This cold really sucks.”

 

Dale leaned in, looking up at Zack seriously.  When he spoke, his tone was stern, but it was kind.  “You wanna think about that next time you get to choose whether to do this for one or two days.”

 

Zack’s body sagged. He looked so sick and so utterly defeated that even Kunsel’s heart went out to him.  Damnit, that was annoying as well, because Zack had chosen this. He hadn’t been lumbered with it the way Kunsel was.  If Zack had’ve just taken Kunsel’s advice to begin with, he probably wouldn’t feel half so bad right now, and he’d be waking to a day of youthful health and energy in the morning.

 

Zack gave another shuddering sneeze, and, shit, that was the nail in the coffin of Kunsel’s attempt to stay grumpy and ill.  Fucking Zack.  He was gonna be the death of him.

 

He shuffled forward on the bed.  “Hey buddy,” he said, with a croak.  “You wanna come watch a movie with us?”

 

Zack’s threw him a tired glance.  “Depends what you’re watching.  If it’s Loveless, I’m walking out the door.”

 

“Really?”  Cam perked up.  “Do we have Loveless?”

 

Kunsel laughed, but he cut Cam off, swinging his hand in a chopping motion near his neck.  He leaned in closer.  “It’ll be alright now,” he said softly to Cam, tilting his head in Zack’s direction.

 

Zack clumped across to the bed, his steps slow and his breath coming in soft pants.  He blinked slowly at the floor before he dropped his head back, shutting his eyes. “Huhh…Hhhh… Huh-HEHSHHYEW!”

 

Zack had always had a big sneeze.  Kunsel had never really thought too much about it.  He was a pretty big guy after all.  This time though, Zack looked so deflated that it seemed almost too much for his body.  He grabbed the top bunk of Kunsel’s bed to steady himself, and then leaned heavily against the frame, trying to catch his breath.

 

“Here,” Kunsel said, holding out the tablet.  “Come sit on the bed and you can choose for us.”

 

Kunsel wasn’t even a little bit surprised to hear Zack’s soft snoring about thirty minutes into the movie.  When it ended, and Cam slunk back over to his own bed, he couldn’t bring himself to wake Zack up.   Instead, he nudged him into a better position, covered him in blankets, and climbed to the empty bunk above that used to be Zack’s.

 

—

 

The next morning, Kunsel woke with a deep breath.  His lungs filled without crackles in his chest, his throat didn’t hurt, his head felt clear, he could breath through his nose…  All of that felt pretty damn miraculous.  He sat up to take in the room.  Down on his bunk, Dale was already fastening his boots.  Across the room, Cam was just beginning to shuffle and stretch, but Kunsel could already see that his colour was better and his eyes were bright.

 

Excellent.

 

There was a rustle of covers and an urgent gasp from the bunk below.

 

“Hah!  Hhh-ahh… HhAHTCH’YEW!  HAHTCH’YEW!  Heh’RUSHHhhUH!”

 

Kunsel leaned over the side of the bed and dropped the tissue box down in the direction of Zack’s head.  Zack blinked up at him, bleary-eyed.

 

Kunsel shook his head.

 

“I guess you’ll be needing those then - ya big idiot.”

 

 

—

 

A.N. - This’ll probably be an anti-climax now, but the main antagonist in Crisis Core quotes Loveless constantly, so that’s all that was about.

Edited September 1, 2023 by SexualOddity

[solitaire-au]

😱 Oh my goodness! That was so 🥰 adorable that I’ve read it three times already! *swoons* ❤️ 

I loved the interactions between them! And Zack kind of implicitly admitting that he was being a restless pain in the neck because he didn’t want to be alone in his room when he was sick: poor baby! ☺️ The others were good friends to him, even if he did drive them up the wall with his hyperactivity. I loved how Dale and Kunsel were so kind and understanding to him at the end!

This fic really made my day! Thank you so much! 💗 💗 💗 

 

[SexualOddity]

1 hour ago, solitaire-au said:

😱 Oh my goodness! That was so 🥰 adorable that I’ve read it three times already! *swoons* ❤️ 

I loved the interactions between them! And Zack kind of implicitly admitting that he was being a restless pain in the neck because he didn’t want to be alone in his room when he was sick: poor baby! ☺️ The others were good friends to him, even if he did drive them up the wall with his hyperactivity. I loved how Dale and Kunsel were so kind and understanding to him at the end!

This fic really made my day! Thank you so much! 💗 💗 💗 

 

Oh yay! I am so happy that you liked it 😊 It was super fun to write. There's something about tough guys looking out for one another that just melts my heart.

 

I think 'restless pain in the neck' is Zack's calling card in general tbh 😅 I do think he'd struggle with a single room, luckily he has some great friends. Crisis Core has some pretty awesome bromances.

[solitaire-au]

Just tagging for @PuddinPop 

[SexualOddity]

Solitaire, you're so sweet to share this. Also... totally nailing the tagging.

 

Puds, if you read this, I had no idea you like/have previously liked Final Fantasy VII.  Even if you're not interested in fic at this point, it's super cool to know that someone on here has played it. I have way more love for it than probably anyone should have for a computer game 😅 It's nice to find someone else who knows the world.

[SexualOddity]

So I had originally intended this to be a one-shot, but @solitaire-au suggested an idea for extending it, and I loved it.  This is also beta read by Solitaire.  I always enjoy/massively benefit from her help, but this story in particular seems very much a collaboration.  She’s been involved with ideas from the very beginning.  Since this has also been one of my favourite fics to write, and really confidence building in terms of writing original characters, I am immensely grateful to her.

 

For people who don’t know the fandom: ShinRa is the organisation that these guys work for.  ShinRa mine mako as an energy source and they also deliberately expose some of their military to it to enhance their combat abilities.

 

—

 

Zack stirred at the bleep of a keycard reader and immediately wished he was unconscious again.  It felt like the moisture had been vacuumed from every part of his mouth - his lips, his tongue, his gums, even right down into his throat.  Aside from that, his head was heavy and densely packed with crap.  The pressure made his temples ache and his sinuses tingle with prospective sneezes.

 

It was hot - too hot - and dark, and the air was close and moist.  For a confused second, he thought he was back in a hut in Gongaga.  It was only when he tried to lift a hand to rub at his eye that he realised that he was covered head to toe in a thick blanket.

 

He only registered the sound of plodding footsteps when they came to an abrupt stop.

 

“Kunsel?”

 

Zack recognised the voice as Marc’s and the memory of the previous day hit him in a rush.

 

“It’s me,” he rasped, fighting with the cover.   He managed to free his head and shoulders before he wrenched over with a fit of coughing.

 

“Oh,” Marc blinked.   “Hey.”  His gaze skirted the bed and settled close to Zack’s feet.  “Need this?” He bent over, retrieved Zack’s canteen and held it out to him.

 

Zack took it eagerly, propping himself up on his elbow.  Pressing his lips together, he held his breath and pushed a fist into his chest in an attempt to settle his breathing.  His ribs shook as coughs threatened to burst from his throat.

 

Marc regarded Zack with a tilt of his head.  “You’re in Kunsel’s bed.”

 

“Yeah.”  Still coughing intermittently, and too tired for an explanation, Zack swilled a mouthful of water around his parched mouth.  “Thanks for this.”

 

“Everyone’s out,” Marc said, surveying the room.  “They all better?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“That’s good,” he said, satisfaction clear in his tone.  “And you’re an idiot.” The corners of Marc’s blue eyes crinkled when his gaze returned to Zack, “but we knew that already.”  When he disappeared out of Zack’s eye line, there was another bleep and what sounded like the click of the door to the weapons cabinet being opened.

 

Zack dragged himself up to sit and dug the tissue box from under the blanket.  He still felt gross and clogged up after blowing his nose, but by the end of his second attempt, he thought he’d be able to move a little air - not that he got to test that out, because the moment he attempted a sniff, he was overwhelmed by another round of coughing.

 

“Fucking hell.  You gonna make it, kid?”

 

Zack gave an unhappy grunt and rubbed at his chest.  “Think the jury’s out,” he said between coughs, shuffling to the side of the bed to slump against the wall.

 

There was a rattle of the cabinet door before Marc trudged back towards his bunk, “Seemed like you were holding up alright yesterday.” He leant an arm against the bed frame.  “I was a little jealous.”

 

“Yeah, I was.” Zack said, sipping at his water.  “Kinda took a turn.”

 

“Exhaust yourself and crash out?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

Marc cast his eyes upwards with a little shake of his head.  “Nice to know the universe is turning as predictably as ever.”

 

Zack cocked his head against the wall, watching as Marc took off his item belt, armour and boots.  His movements were off - his muscles unusually tense as he lowered himself onto Dale’s bed. He was pale too.  Marc was always pale, to be fair.  That was probably a consequence of growing up under the Plate.  The giant metal structure that supported the richer parts of the city also blocked off the sun from the slum dwellers below.  This was different though, his skin looked grey and thin. His eyes were ringed with dark shadows and reddened at the corners.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Marc gave a sharp snort.  “You’re asking me?  Really?”  He glanced at Zack as if to check whether he were joking.  “Yeah, I’m alright,” he said, when their eyes met, his voice flat and toneless. He scooped up his kit and pushed a hand against his thigh to stand.  “Your assignments are a fucking nightmare, though.  So if you’d like to never get sick again, I’d appreciate that.”

 

Zack gave a dry laugh.  “Think I’d appreciate it too.”  He raised a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember the assignment brief.  “It was… uh …monsters at Fort Condor?”

 

“Wyerds,”  Marc said, with his head in the wardrobe.

 

Zack sucked air through his teeth.  “Yeah. Tough gig.” His brow creased, though, when he registered the word.  “Wyerds?  Multiple?”

 

“Three.”

 

Zack’s jaw dropped.  His eyes opened wider. “Holy shit.”  His gaze drifted as he thought about that, and he gave a little shake of his head.  “But, not attacking together?”

 

“They were, man,” Marc said, meeting Zack’s eye before he tossed clothes onto the bed.

 

“What?” Zack gaped.  “They don’t do that.”

 

“Take that up with them, I guess.”  Marc tugged out his hair tie and thick, coarse, black hair fell over his shoulders.  “Actually, you can’t,” he said, tilting his head towards Zack with a satisfied smirk, “because I killed them.”

 

“Shit.”  Zack’s voice came out breathy and dazed.  He shuffled closer, dropping his feet to sit on the edge of the bed.  “And when you say you’re okay…”

 

“I didn’t get pronged.” Marc said, answering the unspoken question.  “Took every ounce of mako-enhanced agility to avoid it though.”  He scrubbed his palms over his face and ran them back through his hair.  “Starting to see why you hop around so much when I’m trying to spar with you.”

 

Zack gave a laugh of acknowledgement, but he traced a toe against the thin carpet, sniffling.  “That job sounds exhausting, man, I’m sorry.”  He watched as Marc retreated to the bathroom.  “Those things are a pain in the ass even one at a time.”

 

“Right?” Marc called through the door.  “Takes a damn express train to knock the fuckers out.” There was a flush from the toilet and the sound of a running tap.  “Haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in about three days either, so that didn’t help.”

 

Zack grimaced, and lowered his head to his hand, drawing his fingers and thumb inwards over his eyes.  “I’m so sorry.”  When his digits met, he held them there, screwing up his face and pinching the bridge of his nose.  “I did wanna take it myself.”

 

“Well yeah, I know that.  Because you tried to report fit for duty.  Like a moron.”  There was a click from the bathroom door and more shuffling before Marc emerged, dragging a t shirt over his head.  “Anyway, having seen what shape you’re in now, I’d say it’s a good thing they didn’t buy your crap.”  He yawned audibly, making Zack need to stifle a yawn himself.  “Anyway, I lived.  And that bunk has got my name on it, so…”

 

“Yeah, man.”  Zack ran a hand up his forehead, pushing the hair out of his face.  “Want me to clear out?”

 

“Nah.” Marc dismissed the suggestion with a lazy wave, still a little stiff in his movements as he clambered up the ladder.  “Just don’t complain if I snore.”

 

Zack smirked.  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

“I can’t remember if you snore,” Marc replied over his shoulder as he hauled himself onto the top bunk.  “Guess if I can’t remember, that’s a good sign.”

 

“Probably won’t sleep again.”

 

“Oh.  Really?” Crossing his legs under himself, Marc wrinkled his nose and jutted out his lip, obviously playing up his disappointment.  “We can’t just crash out together in communal misery?”

 

“Hey, don’t let me stop you.” Zack craned his neck to smirk at Marc.  “I’m not gonna make any noise.  Kunsel left me his tablet.” He reached under the bed for it and held it up.  “Bunch of movies on it.  Pretty sure he keeps headphones in his drawer.”

 

Marc scoffed.  “You ever sit for an entire movie?”

 

“There’s a first time for everything,” Zack shrugged.  “Energy’s kinda left the building, so today could be my day.”  He stretched out his neck and pulled the tablet onto his lap.  “Anything you recommend?”

 

Marc’s gaze wandered, then snapped back to Zack, a grin spreading over his face.  “He has this Turk film on there.  Meant to be a detective thing, but they get so much wrong it’s just fucking funny.”

 

Zack swiped the screen a couple of times, scanning through thumbnails.  Catching sight of one, he laughed so hard, he broke into wracking coughs.  “Holy shit,” he spluttered.  “Black suits and bootleg loot.”  He pressed a hand to his chest, coughing into his arm.  “I’m guessing that’s the one,” he wheezed.

 

“That’ll be it,” Marc said, laid out on the bed now.  “You breathing?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Zack chuckled between coughs.

 

“Okay, well, try not to laugh too loud.”

 

The room settled into silence, but a thought that had been nagging at Zack wrenched harder at his attention and he couldn’t shove it back below the surface.

 

“Marc?”

 

Marc gave a hum of acknowledgement, but there was no movement from the bed.

 

Zack set the tablet aside.  “You… uh…”  He dropped his head briefly, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck.  “You ever notice that all the weird monster shit happens close to mako reactors?”

 

Marc rolled onto his side.  The edges of his eyebrows pinched together.  There was silence for a moment before he spoke.  “Think everyone’s noticed that, buddy,” he murmured. “Just nobody talks about it.”

 

“It’s just - uh…” Zack wet his lips and swallowed.  “I dunno.”  He sniffed, scrubbing at his nose.  “When we clear them out, people are always so grateful.  Like we’re saving the day.”

 

“You think they shouldn’t be thanking us.”

 

Zack raised his eyebrows with a shrug, and that was all the acknowledgement he could manage.  He dropped his head, the muscles of his shoulders tensing at the back of his neck.  “Sometimes this job isn’t what I pictured.”

 

Marc propped himself up on an elbow.  “This been on your mind?”

 

He shrugged again, not looking up. “I guess so.”

 

There was a rustle of bed covers and a stifled grunt.  Zack did glance up then.  Marc was sitting up on his bunk, one leg curled under him while the other hung over the edge.  He slumped over, propping up his chin with one hand.

 

“I dunno.”  Marc sighed, and there was concern in his eyes as he studied Zack.   He heaved himself up straighter, resting his elbows on his knees.  “You’re pretty sick buddy.  Maybe try not to think about it now?  Talk to Dale when he’s back.”  Marc tilted his head, and his hair fell in a curtain as he rubbed at his neck.  “He’ll have an opinion.”  He gave a wry smile.  “Guy’s got an opinion about everything lately.  Especially if it has to do with ShinRa.”

 

“Kay,” Zack said, scrubbing a hand under his nose.  “Maybe I will.”

 

It took a few minutes of sniffling, and staring at the floor, but Zack summoned the will to haul himself up to use the bathroom and to seek out Kunsel’s headphones in the drawer.  He’d settled down again, with the movie ready to play, when the tingles in his sinuses beat with an urgent pulse.  He shut his eyes, groaning in grim recognition, and swapped the tablet on his knee for a box of tissues.

 

“Not this shit again,” he said, in an angry mutter.

 

“What’s up kid?” Marc was sitting up again on his bed.

 

Zack gave a dismissive wave, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Nothing, man, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t…” The itching made his voice nasal and breathy.  “It’s just…” He lifted his chin, sniffing, and brought a knuckle under his septum.  He gave a determined blink when his eyes tried to flutter, and sighed. “Cold’s been really fucking with my nose.”

 

“Sneezy?”

 

“Y-Hh-yeah…”  Zack pulled tissues from the box and drew his knees closer, breath coming quick and short.  “HEH’CHUH!  Ehh’TCHUH! HUHtTSCHYEW!”

 

“Shit. Bless you.”

 

“Ugh, thanks.” Zack slumped.  He blew his nose, and felt less snotty, but the buzzing persisted through his sinuses.  There was a prick of irritation that made his nose wriggle, and he jammed his wrist against the side of his nostril.  He groaned.  “Pretty sure that won’t be the end of it.”

 

“Oh,” Marc said, his voice lifting in surprise.  “Okay.  How you doing for tissues?”

 

Zack tilted the box towards him.  He could already see the cardboard though the tissues that were left in there.  He pulled out a clean one, and then another, and gave a huff of despairing laughter.  “Got two.”

 

“Crap.  Okay,” Marc hoisted himself up.

 

“Marc, you don’t… hhh- have to… Hehhh…. Ehh…” Zack snatched at the tissues he’d pulled from the box, “HhhhRuSHHHUH! HEH’SHUH!”  He squeezed his eyes shut and held his forehead, not moving from his hunched position.  He’d had a headache brewing since he woke up, and sneezing so hard felt like slamming his brain against his skull.

 

“Fucking hell.”

 

Zack roused at Marc’s words and found him stood by Dale’s bed, grimacing into the other tissue box.

 

“Might be another ten in there.”  He tossed the box in Zack’s direction.  “Guess you guys went through the wringer yesterday.”

 

“Er yeah,” Zack cleared his throat and blew his nose softly, not wanting to aggravate his pounding head.  “I wasn’t here for all of it but it seemed like everyone was pretty rough.”  He pressed his fist against his nose with a frustrated grunt.  It tickled maddeningly and, based on his experience of the past two days, it wouldn’t letting up any time soon.   He bent his head and rubbed his nose in circles with the heel of his hand.  All he wanted was to sneeze, but that would mean another jolt of pain through his temples.

 

“I’ll try chase you up another box.” Hands on the back of his neck, Marc stretched his elbows behind him as he headed for the wardrobe.

 

“You can’t,” Zack said, grimly.  His voice was scratchy and congested.  “Everyone in this place is sick, or they have been in the last few days.  You know how it goes.” He sagged against the wall, closing his eyes.  “Never any supplies once we hit this point.”

 

“I’ll try the infirmary.”  There was shuffling and the rattle of hangers on the clothes rail.

 

“No, seriously.”  Zack sat up, rubbing his nose between finger and thumb.  “Don’t go running round the building for me. Odds are someone’s cleared them out anyway.” He nodded at the tissue boxes.  “These’ll last for a bit.  If you wanna do me a huge favour maybe throw me one of your toilet rolls?”

 

Marc sucked his teeth and twisted his lips in a thoughtful grimace.

 

The buzz in Zack’s nose turn to prickling, and he dropped his head between his knees.  His back heaved as his breaths turned short. “HUhHh…HuHH… HuRrESHHhEW!  H’EHSHEW!”  He snuffled and groaned, dragging his hands over his cheeks.  When he finally raised his head, Marc was searching through a drawer.

 

“What you looking for?”  Zack said, clearing his throat, and rubbing at his nose with one of the remaining tissues.

 

Marc gave a distracted hum.  “Dale usually has a stash.  You know what he’s like with this shit.  Sorts us out a lot better than ShinRa does.”  After a little more rooting, he sat back on the floor.  “Sorry, no tissues, but I did find these.  Here, catch.”

 

He threw a thin tube across and Zack caught it one-handed, inspecting the text on it before setting it down on the bed.  “Thanks.”

 

“Customary to suck em, dude,” Marc said, leaning back on his arms.  “Dale won’t mind.  ‘Fact he’d want you to have ‘em.”

 

“Yeah man, I…” Zack’s mouth dropped open, and he angled his head upwards, blinking, and pawing at the bed until his fingers brushed the tissue box.  “I know… I… HeHh…EHT’SCHHAH!” He sniffled, burying his face in a tissue. “I’m alright though.”

 

Marc narrowed his eyes.  “Don’t tell me you don’t have a sore throat.  Sound like you’ve been gargling broken glass, buddy.”

 

“Menthol ones make me sneeze,” Zack said, sniffling as he wiped at his nose.

 

Marc spread his palms, looking up at Zack expectantly.  “Sounds a lot like what’s happening already,” he clarified, when Zack didn’t answer.

 

Zack shook his head and sniffed.  An itchy fog swirled beneath his nose and his cheekbones.  He tipped his head back with a moan, and pressed the heels of his hands under his eyes.

 

Zack was vaguely aware of Marc pushing himself up to stand. “Your funeral, I guess.”

 

“HEH’TSCHH! AHH’SHUH!”  Zack’s head drove down to his palm as he sneezed.  He rocked back against the wall, laying his arm over his eyes with a helpless groan.

 

“You taken pain meds?”

 

“Er,” Zack sniffled as he emerged, squinting at Marc as he tried to think. “Kunsel gave me some,” he said, “before he left.”

 

“Left?” Marc raised his eyebrows as he dropped his chin.  “When was that?”

 

“Dunno.  Eight?”

 

“So six hours ago,” Marc said, flatly.  “Worn off by now.  Come on buddy.  Use your brain.”  Scooping up Zack’s canteen, he disappeared out of Zack’s line of sight.  “I know you gotta have one under all that hair.”  A tap ran in the bathroom, and when Marc emerged he had a toilet roll under his arm, and a box of tablets and the refilled canteen in his hands.  “How do you fucking function outside of this room?”  he grumbled, clomping over to Zack and Kunsel’s bunk.

 

“Thanks.” Zack’s smile was strained, and after accepting the supplies, he leaned heavily against the wall.  The dorm felt like home, even after moving out, but sometimes he struggled with the way the guys reacted to him.  He wondered if they’d ever see him as anything more than the chaotic whirlwind he’d been on his first day in his bunk.  First impressions died hard, he supposed, and he could accept that he didn’t always help his own case.   

 

As Zack pressed tablets from the packet into the palm of his hand, there was the soft, rumbling swish of desk drawer runners.  He shuffled down the bed to a get a better view.  Marc was holding one of their company-issued laptops and pulling out a chair.

 

“What are you doing?” Zack said. He scrunched his nose as a needle-point itch pricked at the side of his nostril.

 

Marc shrugged.  “You’re loud.  Figure I won’t sleep.  Might as well tackle the write-up.”

 

“Oh no man, I’ll…” Zack struggled to talk as his face went slack,  “I’ll… uh… heh… HhRrHSHHhUhh!”  He pressed the heel of his hand between his eyes, screwing them shut. “I’ll go back to my place.”

 

“Nah,” Marc said, hitting the power button on the laptop.  “Wouldn’t sleep then anyway.” He flashed Zack a grin.  “Be too busy thinking about you and your sad puppy face.”

 

“I can handle an afternoon in my room.”

 

“Can you though?” Marc said, angling his head in a doubtful tilt.  “You’re like one of those electronic moogle toys they make for kids.  If someone doesn’t pay attention to you every thirty minutes, you fucking wilt.”

 

“Hey I… heh… HUH’TSCHHUH!”  Not moving his face from his cupped palms, Zack groaned.  “Pretty sure if I sneeze enough, there’s a cut off point where you have to quit insulting me.”

 

“Yeah, I’m not familiar with that rule.” Marc smirked, sitting back from the screen.  “Why don’t you sneeze some more and we’ll see what happens?”

 

“Hehh…hEh’EHK’TCHUH!”

 

“Huh… not normally this compliant.”

 

Zack tipped his head back, shifting his palms to cover his eyes.  “Fuck you, Grice.”

 

When he spoke again, Marc’s tone was softer, and though he didn’t drop his hands, Zack thought he could feel his gaze on him.

 

“You hang in there, kiddo.”

 

The sneezing petered out after that, and Zack tried to concentrate on the movie.  It was pretty hilarious, actually.  At first he tried to suppress his laughter, but when he noticed Marc’s amused smirk when he couldn’t hold back a cackle, he figured it was probably okay.  Soon after, his stomach growled.  Two minutes later, it growled again, and again, thirty seconds after that.

 

“When’d you last eat buddy?”  Marc said, not looking away from the laptop.

 

“Uh, breakfast,” Zack said, pulling an earbud out of his ear.

 

Marc’s tilted his head in Zack’s direction, his eyes sliding across in an unimpressed stare.  “Canteen’s shut now, dude,” he said, shaking his head.  “Won’t open for nearly three hours.  Fucking forward planning.” He massaged his forehead.  “You must do it on assignment?”

 

Zack shrugged.  “I plan.”  His lips twitched as he met Marc’s eye.  “Unless I can I get away with doing something big and flashy instead…”

 

Marc gave a laboured sigh.  After a moment, though, his brow furrowed.  “I’m trying to think of a way to tell you off that won’t make me a hypocrite, and I’m coming up empty.”  He jabbed a finger in Zack’s direction.  “But if anyone else were here…”

 

Zack burst into stuffy laughter.  “I know my audience, don’t worry.”

 

“Want me to run down to the vending machine?”

 

“Nah, it’s alright.  I need to call Aerith, anyway.” He set the tablet down and shuffled towards the edge of the bed, pocketing the lozenges from earlier, just in case.  “Want me to bring anything back?”

 

When Marc shook his head, Zack reached for his boots.  He was up and halfway to the door when he heard Marc’s voice behind him.

 

“Er, Fair?”

 

“Yeah?” Zack said, looking over his shoulder.

 

In response, Marc beckoned him with a curl of his finger.

 

Zack dropped his head and shuffled towards the desk with his hands in his pockets, already wondering what he’d done wrong.

 

“What’s with the shirt?” Marc’s tilted his head, his eyebrows quirking up.

 

“Oh,” Zack winced.  His healing cut did twinge as he moved, but he hadn’t given it much thought.  He looked down at his abdomen, giving a huff of laughter through gritted teeth.  “I - uh - I messed up in VR.  Took a bit of a hit.”

 

The expression fell from Marc’s face.  “When was that?”

 

Zack shuffled where he stood.  “Er… yesterday?” Guilty hesitance lifted his pitch at the end, but it wasn’t really a question.  Both of them knew exactly when it had been.

 

Marc jerked his head back in acknowledgement, folding his arms.  When he spoke again, his voice was heavy with sarcasm.  “If only you had run into a friend in there who told you to go back home and rest.”

 

Zack rubbed his hand against the back of his head with a nervous laugh.  “Er, yeah, that would have been something, huh?”

 

Marc threw up his hands.  “A hundred percent of your advantages went into your sword arm, didn’t they?  Not a thing left for anything else.”

 

“There’s also the dashing good looks?” Zack suggested, lifting his gaze to peer at Marc hopefully.

 

Marc pressed his lips together, shaking his head.  “Not your day to make that claim, kid.”  He pushed his chair back from the desk. “Okay,” he said, resignation in his tone as he rubbed a hand over the side of his face.  “You made a mess of the uniform.  How’s the skin?”

 

“It was just a scratch. Shirt took the brunt.”

 

“You taken care of it?”

 

“Kunsel did it after I got back here. Would have patched it myself in the training room, but I was sneezing so bad, I couldn’t see straight.”  Zack rolled his eyes at the memory.

 

Marc’s brow furrowed. “Kunsel did it?” He leant forward in his seat, planting an elbow on the table and resting his chin on his fist as he scrutinised Zack. He sucked his teeth and shook his head. “Just a fucking scratch.  Endless stream of bullshit that comes out of your mouth, isn’t it?”

 

Zack pulled back with a frown.  “What do you mean?”

 

“I know Kunsel too, remember? He’s smarter than you are.  Also, fucking grumpy when he has a cold.  No way you got him out of bed when he was sick.”  Marc jabbed a finger at him, narrowing his eyes.  “Not unless you really needed patching up.”

 

Zack looked away with a frustrated sigh.  “It was open, okay,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “but it was fine.  Just needed cleaning up.”

 

“And you’re still wearing the messed up shirt.”

 

“Er…” Zack grit his teeth.  “Yeah.  I mean, I was sick,” he shrugged, not really convincing himself.  “Didn’t have a ton of energy to go back to my quarters.  Used one of the back-up towels from the washroom.”  Of course, he did find the energy to get takeout food… and later go the gym, but he figured Marc didn’t need to know that.

 

“New clothes’d be a good idea,” Marc said, with a grimace.  “Maybe a shower?”

 

Zack turned for the door, lifting a hand in lazy surrender.  “Fine, fine, I get it.  I’ll quit being gross.”

 

“Zack…”

 

“Mhm?”  Zack said, looking over his shoulder.

 

“Re-dress the wound, okay?  Check for signs of infection.”

 

Zack sighed, dragging his feet.  “C’mon, man, I know.”

 

“You got supplies in your room?”

 

“Yes,” Zack spread his palms in exasperation as he turned around, backing towards the door.  “I’m not totally useless.”

 

Marc gave a sceptical hum, but he let him go without further objection, turning back to the laptop.

 

—

 

Since he needed new clothes anyway, Zack went back to his room to phone Aerith, swinging by the vending machine on the way.  Wanting to sound better on the phone than he actually felt, he grabbed a roll of toilet paper, kicked off his boots and settled on the bed to pick open the wrapper from Dale’s lozenges. He tore himself off a few sheets of toilet roll before popping a lozenge in his mouth.

 

The reaction was inevitable, so he took a long, full breath through his nose to try to hurry it along.  Air came in cool and clear, stimulating something irritable in his nostrils.  He blinked repeatedly, and dropped his head, his chest lifting with predictable hitches.  He clamped the toilet paper around his nose.

 

“Uh…. hh’hh’hh’Hh… Huh’HEH… HEH… HEH’NGH! HEH’NKHT! HEH’KHTt!”

 

He panted for a moment before he opened his eyes.  Stifling his sneezes was necessary if he didn’t want to spit the lozenge across the room, but it jarred his head and throat so much that the whole thing seemed counter-productive.  After he was finished though, he didn’t feel like sneezing again, and he still had the lozenge, so he figured that a win on balance.  He blew his nose.  Much as he would have preferred to avoid the menthol, it did actually clear his sinuses.  It was a raw, sensitive kind of clear though, and if he breathed too hard, he was pretty sure he’d set off another sneezing fit.

 

For all his efforts, Aerith knew immediately that he was struggling.  She couldn’t come to HQ for a bunch of reasons, and they both knew he wouldn’t have the energy to go down below the Plate.  Instead, he shuffled uncomfortably on the bed, patiently answering a million questions about whether he was looking after himself.  It was a good thing that Marc had been around to make him take meds, get food and commit to a shower, otherwise he wouldn’t have had many reassuring answers.

 

Once they’d gotten past her immediate concern and his embarrassment, he did find himself warming and relaxing into their conversation.  An unexpected advantage of sick leave, it turned out, was being able to chat without the frequent interruption of assignment requests coming through his phone.  They talked about fuck all, but it didn’t matter.  He just wanted to hear the way her voice lilted and lifted while she told him what she’d done and the people that she’d seen.  Aerith was magical.  Only she could take a place as dark and neglected as the slums and make it sound so full of warmth and vibrancy.  She brought life to everything around her, in the same way that she brought life to the flowers that only she could grow in the Midgar ground.

 

They talked for more than half an hour, only breaking off when she insisted that he go and rest.  He was able to wave off her concern initially, but he was flagging, his symptoms getting the better of him.  His voice was giving way, regularly cracking mid-sentence, and continuing to talk was making him cough.  He was glad he had the toilet roll on the bed, because by the end of the call, his face was streaming.  Every thirty seconds, he had to balance his phone between his ear and his shoulder, freeing his hands to wipe his eyes and blow his nose.

 

When she hung up, the energy he’d been clinging to evaporated and he sagged over the bed, sorely regretful that he’d hadn’t showered before the call.  He’d said he was going to do it though, so he grabbed a towel, first aid kit, and clean clothes and he dragged himself down the corridor.

 

When he finally returned to the second class dorm, he rapped on the metal door.

 

Marc leant against the doorframe, his head tilted and his face tightened in an appraising frown. “You’re sick.  You didn’t think it’d be worth your time to dry your hair?”

 

Zack rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead, squeezing one eye shut.  “I covered that with Dale yesterday.”

 

Marc raised his eyebrows pointedly, fanning his palms in a dramatic arc.  “And yet…” He stepped away from the door though, retreating into the room.  “Feel like making yourself useful?”

 

“Sure,”  Zack shrugged, snuffling and unwinding toilet paper from the roll he’d brought back with him.  “What’s up?”

 

Marc nodded at the laptop on the desk.  “Take a look at the mission report?  Obviously, I’ve never done one at this level.”

 

Zack hitched his shoulders in a shrug.  He wrinkled and then blew his nose.  “I don’t think it’s all that different, but I can read it over.”

 

“Thanks, man.  How was your chest?”

 

“Yeah, alright.  Stuck a new bandage on it.”  Zack kicked out a desk chair.  Toilet roll in his palm, he flopped his nose down on top of it, letting it drip miserably into the paper while he propped up the weight of his head.  He tried to sniff, but his nose had stuffed up again, and the air forcing its way through made him cough.

 

“How you doing in general?” Marc asked, pulling out a seat opposite and another for his feet. “‘Cause you’re looking increasingly pathetic.”

 

Zack had to drag his gaze from the screen and blink to refocus.  “Er… yeah.  Chance I might die.”

 

“Okay,” Marc sat up straighter, setting his feet on the floor.  He tilted the laptop screen down to meet Zack’s eye.  “Forget the report, buddy.  I don’t have to turn it in ‘til tomorrow anyway.”

 

Zack waved him off with a lazy hand before cocking the screen back up.  He snuffled, his mouth lolling open.  “I tell you what, though.” He pressed a knuckle against his forehead, screwing up his eyes.  “If you see me on my first day again and I talk about going training, could you please just knock me unconscious and throw me on a bed?”

 

Marc eyebrows shot up.  “Fuck me Fair, I thought you’d never ask.”  He swivelled his knees under the desk and set his elbows on top, leaning to peer at Zack.

 

“What?” said Zack, sliding his gaze from the laptop screen.

 

Marc shook his head.  “Nothing, just… you seem fucking miserable, buddy.”

 

Zack twitched his shoulder in a listless shrug.  “My fault, isn’t it?”

 

Marc was kind enough not to answer.

 

When Zack finished, he sat back in the chair, pinching and rubbing at nose as he read aloud from the screen.  “Risk of attacks on the village was causing local terror, threat to life, and possible destruction of homes and property.”

 

“Too much?”

 

“No, I like it,” Zack said, with a pensive smile. “You always did have a way with words.” He turned the laptop around and pushed it back across the table.  “This’ll be great.  Better than most of the stuff I turn in.”

 

Marc thanked him, and there was a moment of silence.  Zack rubbed his hand against the side of his head, fingers in his hair.

 

“Did you - uh - did you know there’s a reactor in Gongaga?”

 

Zack looked up when there was no answer.  He found Marc studying him, lips pinched as his dark eyebrows pulled down.

 

“I did know that, yeah, buddy.”

 

Marc had the kind of face that Zack might typically have found a little intimidating, even knowing he could handle himself.  He had a streetwise toughness that Zack had never shared.  His skin was more leathery than you’d expect for a guy of his age, his nose a little offset from a badly-healed break.  His eyes gave him away, though.  When they weren’t lit with mischief, they were deep and thoughtful, like there was always some private contemplation going on just below the surface.

 

“Got plenty here in Midgar too, remember?”  The corner of his lips quirked up.  “And my folks are still kickin’.”

 

Zack lifted his fingers to press between his eyebrows.  “Shit, Marc.  I’m sorry.  Of course,” He winced, shaking his head. “I should have-”

 

“You get monster attacks there?  In Gongaga.”

 

Zack sighed.  “Some.” He reached for some more toilet roll.  “Does help that it’s a jungle.  Precautions for the wildlife kinda do double duty for some of the monsters.  I just… I dunno…” He wiped at his nose.  “Figured if I had any more to do with the place, it wouldn’t be connected to the bad shit.”

 

“You didn’t put the monsters there, Zack.” Marc leaned forward as he spoke softly.  “Didn’t build the reactors either.”

 

Zack eyes dropped to the desk.  “Still wear the uniform though, don’t I?”

 

“Hey, kid,” Marc said, after a long pause.  “How far you get with that Turk movie?”

 

“Oh,” Zack rubbed his head with a huff of sheepish laughter.  “Not that far in the end.  Maybe thirty minutes?”

 

“Feel like putting it back?  We’ll watch it together?”

 

Zack lifted his gaze.  “Yeah,” he said, his voice lightening a little.  “You sure?”

 

“Yeah.” He gestured across the room with a jerk of his thumb.  “But not on Kunsel’s bunk, okay?  I could crash out, and you don’t look much better.  Kunsel’s only had a sick day between back to back missions.  Good chance he’s gonna need that bed when he gets back.”

 

Zack buried his head into his palms.  He grimaced, and gave a grunt that was heavy with regret.  “Marc,” he said, dragging his palms down his face.  “You were supposed to go to bed.  I’ve…” He drifted off. Creeping prickles wormed into his sinuses.  His mouth dropped open.  “I’ve…” His face grew heavy, all other sensation muted by the snaking itch.  “Uh…” His breath caught.  His eyes widened.  “Oh fuck.”

 

“What?”  The word came quick, and there was concern in Marc’s tone.

 

Zack couldn’t answer.  He snatched at the toilet roll from the desk and swivelled away.  He thought he heard Marc make a noise of understanding before his lungs filled.

 

“HEy’ESHHHYew! HEHSHEW!” Zack flopped back in his seat, unwinding paper from the roll as his breath heaved.  The tickling was agonising and right in the tip of his nose “HUHh…UHh…HUHhh…HUSH’YUH!-HUSH’YUH! HaH’ASHhYAH!  HAH’SCHYEW!”  He kept his hands cupped to his face, panting as he squeezed the bridge of his nose through the toilet paper.   His head dropped backwards, and his words came out in a helpless sigh.  “I don’t have the energy to do this again.”

 

Marc’s brow lifted as he stared at Zack.  “It gonna be a whole thing?”

 

“Probably.” Zack groaned, shutting his eyes. He didn’t immediately feel like sneezing, but there was something new nagging at his sinuses.  Just a vague disquiet for the moment, but it wasn’t gonna stay that way.  He dragged himself up to the table, crossed his arms on top, and collapsed over them.   

 

Marc slapped his thighs.  “Okay,” he said, with more energy than Zack suspected either of them felt.  “Think we’ll use your bed.  Much as I love you, my concern does not extend to your snotty tissues on my mattress.”

 

“Oh fuck,” Zack heaved up his head to look across the room.  “Kunsel’s bed.”

 

It was an absolute mess.  The sheets were rucked up, the blanket was heaped in a pile and, worst of all, there were shedloads of balled-up, dirty, tissues mixed up in the blanket, on the pillow, falling onto the carpet and under the bed.

 

“Wow,” Zack said, screwing up his face.  “I’m fucking disgusting.”

 

“Huh.  Self awareness.  Never knew you had it in you.”  Marc leaned over the side of his chair and emerged with a wastepaper basket, which he offered to Zack.  “You deal with your germy crap. I’ll make the bed.”

 

Zack pushed himself up to stand, and wavered, tingles pulsing through the pressure in his head.

 

“You good?” Marc asked, setting the bin at Zack’s feet.

 

“Yeah.” Zack’s hand shook as he cupped it to his nose.  He waved Marc away.  “Just… ugh…”  Tickles burned in his nostrils, making them flare.  He pinched them shut.  “Gotta sneeze again.”

 

“Okay, buddy.”

 

Zack held his breath as itching blazed between his fingers and thumb, sending prickling fire up through his nose as it spread.  Thick tears wet his lashes, squeezing from the corners of his scrunched-up eyes.

 

“Probably want that,” Marc said, pressing what felt like folded toilet paper into Zack’s hand.

 

Zack turned away, switching hands hurriedly to press the paper to his face. “HUhHH’HISHHHYEW!  HuHH’ISHHHUH!”  Bent at the waist, he palmed his forehead and rocked, grimacing against a fresh thump of pain.

 

“You alright?”

 

“Not really,” Zack muttered trudging toward the bathroom.  He heaved a hand to his face, rubbing at his eyes with his fingers and thumb.  “Yesterday I made it stop.” His voice was hoarse and cracking. “I just… just wanna… HAH’RISHHHUH!”

 

In the bathroom he ran the water until it turned cold and he let it cover his palms, shuddering at the change in temperature.  He splashed it up onto his face, dragging his fingertips outwards to the corners of his eyes.  He chilled the backs of his fingers under the tap, and rolled them over the sneezy ache that was churning under his cheeks.   The pressure was uncomfortable in a relieving way, but compressing the tickles made his breath hitch, so he gave it up, settling for more cold water on his face.

 

He reached for a towel, and leaned a hand against the tiled wall while he sank his head in it, pinching the bridge of his nose through the fabric. Finally, he wiped it over his face, dumping it in the laundry basket before traipsing the few steps to grab another roll of toilet paper.

 

He blew his nose over and over until nothing else would come out.  After that he could breathe a little, but the feeling in his face was not promising.  His sinuses were sore and tender and the air passing through only roused a wave of tingles in its wake.  He’d have liked to claw open his face and scrub at the insides.  He scrunched his nose instead, thinking it a weak substitute, and pressed his wrist against his septum as he left the bathroom.

 

Marc was setting the wastepaper basket by the side of the desk.  It was two-thirds full of bundles of tissues.

 

“You cleaned up,” Zack said, glancing over to the bed.

 

“Yes, I did, and you fucking owe me one,” he smiled though, and tipped his head in the direction of Zack’s old bunk.  “Now if you’d like to move your ass, I have a pretty fucking urgent desire to wash my hands.”

 

Zack backed out of his way, but his eyes followed Marc into the bathroom.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

 

“No, I know,” Marc said, over the sound of a running tap.  “But you look rough as hell.  Thought you’d do a little better sitting down.  And frankly, I could use a bed pretty sharpish myself.”  He appeared in the doorway, rubbing his hands on a towel.  “Does beg the question ‘Why you still stood there?’, though.”

 

“Oh,” Zack said, blinking.  “Yeah.”  He held his nose gently, making a cradle from his thumb and fingers.  It was still full of tingles, but they weren’t spiky ones that would prick him to a sneeze.  These were snub and blunt, stewing disagreeably, making his eyes water and his breath short.  Any other day he would have been looking for a light to stare at, but if he set off one sneeze, he’d have to accept the ten that followed, and he was still clinging to the hope that his tricks in the bathroom might have paid off.

 

Marc and Zack were a similar height - Marc maybe a quarter inch taller - so when he came up close to Zack, he could peer right into his eye.  He laid a hand against Zack’s arm.  “You feel cold, buddy?”

 

Zack sniffed and shook his head.

 

“Okay,” Marc said, with a thoughtful nod.  “I guess that’s a good sign.”  He shifted his hand to Zack’s shoulder, turning him in the direction of the bed.  “Maybe you’ll come around after a rest.  Otherwise, you’ll be dealing with my palm on your forehead.”  When they reached the foot of the bed, Marc slapped him on the back.  “Hop up.  I’ll grab the tablet,” he said, before tugging the blanket from his own bed and tossing it onto Zack’s bunk.

 

Zack nodded, but he didn’t move.  Those tingles were amassing behind his nose.  While they hadn’t turned any sharper, something about they way they gathered had changed the game.  A thrum of pressure beat through his sinuses and his lungs filled.

 

“HhRHSHHUH!”  He cupped his hands over his mouth and nose, bending fully at the waist.  He groaned as his temples ached and his congestion filled his head all over again.

 

“Damn.” Marc reappeared.  “Guess you can’t win ‘em all.”  Tablet in hand, Marc returned to Zack’s side. He gave him a pat between his shoulder blades.  “You look like utter fucking shit.  Let’s get you sitting down.”

 

Marshalling what energy he could muster, Zack heaved himself up the ladder and hunched on the bed, his arms crossed on his knees as they folded against his chest.  His back heaved over and over, his head filling with itch.  “HuhhhHH’HH’HH’HH’HHH’HHSHHUHhhh!”

 

“This is doing a fucking number on you, buddy,” Marc said, grunting as he pulled himself on to the top bunk.  “You’re like some cautionary tale they tell cadets who don’t know how to switch off.”

 

“How’re you doing?”  Zack’s head was heavy when he turned to Marc.  “You never did get that sleep.”

 

“Fucking shattered, kid.  Hallucinating right now.”

 

“What?”  Zack’s eyes widened and he sat up with a jerk, concern reviving his flagging energy.

 

“Yep.  Weird ass shit.  I can see Zack Fair actually sitting still.”

 

Zack groaned and slumped back against the wall.  He coughed into the back of his arm.  “Such a funny bastard.”

 

Marc handed Zack a toilet roll.  “Try keep the crap on your side as much as you can, okay?  You going under this blanket?” He nudged Zack off it so he could pull it from the bed.  When they were both settled, he rested the tablet on his knees and scrolled back to the start of the movie.  “I set an alarm for an hour before the mess room closes.  We’re not turning it off buddy.  Gotta hold me to that.  You need to try eat a decent meal.”

 

Zack nodded, his breath catching silently.  He did let his eyes drift up to the light then, not having the energy for the uncomfortably slow march towards another sneeze.  The glow made his eyes ache, but it did launch the buzzing into tip of his nose.  He cupped his hands to his face. “HAH’HSHHHhUHhh!”

 

“Bless you, kid,” Marc said, his eyes on the tablet.

 

“Thanks,” Zack said with a sniff, scrubbing the backs of his fingers under his nose.  “Hey Marc?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Thanks for putting up with me this afternoon.”  Zack pulled off a piece of toilet roll and gave a tentative wipe under his reddened nose.

 

Marc turned his head towards Zack.  “Yeah, you’re alright, kid.”

 

“I know I suggested it, but I didn’t really wanna go back to my room.”

 

Marc laughed.  “Yeah.  You’re not the enigmatic soul that you think you are, buddy.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Marc patted Zack on the knee.  “Don’t worry your pretty head over it.  You know the rules in here.  We look out for each other.”  He turned back to the tablet, digging a knuckle against the corner of his eye.  “Though, if you ever wanna pick up some slack and start looking after yourself for a change, pretty sure that’d be appreciated.”

 

Zack met Marc’s eye with a tired smile.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

“Well, you know,” Marc nudged Zack’s knees with his own.  “We got your back ‘til then.”

[solitaire-au]

I loved being able to help on this, and you’ve turned it into the fluffy sneezefic of my dreams! 🥰❤️💗💕😍

(It’s a really sweet ending, but if you wanted to do a bit more where Kunsel and the others return to the barracks, that would be lovely! But not necessary.)

I ❤️ this so much! Thank you!