Into the Woods, Saturday Morning

[puppy_fair]

Running.

Zack was just out running. Walking his dog. Just the same as he did every day. Up those stairs, past those shops, through the park...

A shadow passed by overhead, and Zack paused in his walk to rest a hand on Girl's head as she looked up and growled.

Through the park, and then toward the woods. Rougher terrain, maybe. Some cover from above. It was probably nothing anyway, what could it be, after all? Except that a few minutes into the trees, a feather came floating down, and Zack stopped in his tracks and just... stared at it.

"A dog, Zack? I suppose it stands to reason, you'd pick up a puppy of your own, eventually."

Zack didn't look up. He couldn't bring himself to. That voice cut clean through him, that old, familiar tone of wry amusement. He just crouched down and picked up the feather from the ground.

"You came."

"You called."

[OOC: For that guy! Can be open if you want to be in the woods!]

Comments

[dishonored_dreamer]

There was a rustling from the branches above, and then Angeal, wings outstretched, came to rest gently on the ground nearby. He looked at Zack in silence for a moment, considering the quiet that he was met with in turn.

After a long silence of his own, he added, "Of course I'm going to come if you call, Zack."

[puppy_fair]

Zack rounded on him, hands clenched in fists at his sides.

"Of course? Of course you'll come if I call? How is that an 'of course?'"

[dishonored_dreamer]

Angeal winced. Zack did always react with more passion than patience.

"I've been there, Zack," he said, with a steady patience of his own. He could afford patience. Being dead tended to mean a whole lot of waiting, on its own.

[puppy_fair]

Zack breathed out harshly, something not far from a laugh.

"In dreams? Through other people? I met Lazard."

Dying, decaying, wearing Angeal's face. Like a Genesis copy.

A copy.

[dishonored_dreamer]

"Yes, Zack," Angeal replied, keeping his tone even. Gentle. Careful. "In dreams. Through..."

He exhaled and shook his head.

"Director Lazard chose his own fate. He used my cells, Zack. The degradation, I couldn't do anything about."

[puppy_fair]

"You could have been there."

[dishonored_dreamer]

"You know I couldn't have."

Angeal frowned as Zack turned his head to look away.

"What I did, what I became--"

[puppy_fair]

"Is the same thing we all are, isn't it?" Zack rounded on him so quickly that his dog whined and backed away. "Monsters? That's what you want to say you are, right?"

He shook his head, fiercely.

"We're SOLDIER, Angeal! We were the heroes! You were hurt, you were angry at yourself, you were confused, but you were never a monster!"

[dishonored_dreamer]

Once again, Angeal closed his eyes and leaned his head back slightly.

His wings remained rigid behind him.

Angel's wings, Zack had said, once.

He shook his head.

"Zack," he tried again, "my honor--"

[puppy_fair]

"Your honor," Zack said, his voice rough. "Your honor. You could have saved your honor, Angeal. You aren't your father. You aren't just what your cells make you out to be. You never were."

[dishonored_dreamer]

"Project G--"

[puppy_fair]

"Project Gillian. Say her name, Angeal," Zack said, his voice dropping low in warning. "Say your mother's name."

[dishonored_dreamer]

Angeal stood in silence.

And then he looked away.

"You've been using it. The buster sword."

[puppy_fair]

"Worried about wear and tear?"

Zack's reply was tired.

[dishonored_dreamer]

"And rust," Angeal supplied.

[puppy_fair]

There was no way for Zack to exhale after that statement that didn't almost carry a sob with it. Gods knew he tried.

"I didn't have much choice. Not after Nibelheim." He closed his eyes and turned around, crouched down to run his fingers through Girl's fur. "You were there."

[dishonored_dreamer]

"In dreams," Angeal confirmed.

[puppy_fair]

"I can't imagine that's the reason you always told me to embrace them," Zack said, some tired twist of humor boring into his words. "Just in case I found myself locked in my own personal hell for a few years?"

[dishonored_dreamer]

"I couldn't have seen that coming, Zack."

[puppy_fair]

"You could have been there for your friend. For Sephiroth. He tried, you know," Zack said softly. "He tried so hard to get both of you back. And now you're gone, he's gone, Genesis is--"

[dishonored_dreamer]

"In Banora," Angeal supplied. "Genesis is in Banora. Degrading. Trying desperately to stop it, just as he has been. Time will take care of Genesis, if someone doesn't step in first."

He was quiet for a long moment more.

"Sephiroth isn't gone, either."

[puppy_fair]

"So it's just you, then," Zack said quietly. "You're the only one who gave up."

[dishonored_dreamer]

"I fought it, Zack," Angeal replied, his tone even. "I fought it as long as I could. And then I couldn't fight it anymore. I couldn't do this anymore."

[puppy_fair]

"So you made me do it for you."

There were so many layers to that.

Making Zack pick up the sword. Making him into Angeal's own legacy, chasing the monsters he'd left behind. Questioning his own humanity.

What do angels dream of, Zack?

[dishonored_dreamer]

To be human.

"I had faith you could." Angeal fell silent for a long moment, waiting for Zack to reply. When it became clear that no reply was forthcoming, he added, "And you did your best."

[puppy_fair]

"It wasn't good enough."

Zack reached for the sword on his back, held it up, turning around to face Angeal again.

"This? This is your honor, right? You don't get to talk to me about honor, Angeal. Or wear and tear. Or rust. Not after Nibelheim. Not after you weren't there. Not after--"

He cut himself off, shaking his head, turning the sword around, and plunging the blade into the earth.

He backed away from it.

[dishonored_dreamer]

"Say it, Zack."

Angeal's eyes didn't leave the blade.

[puppy_fair]

"Not after you used me," Zack said, a sob rising up in his throat. "You decided you couldn't do it and you left us all, left Genesis and Sephiroth to break alone, left me to deal with them, and you used me as your way out."

He lifted his hands and clapped them over his mouth, shaking his head.

He couldn't.

He couldn't say these words.

[dishonored_dreamer]

Angeal looked down quietly at his hands.

A monster's hands.

There was a rustle of feathers, and his wings folded away.

He considered the man in front of him.

"We both did what we needed to do."

[puppy_fair]

"No," Zack said softly. "I did what I needed to do. You gave up. And now I'm here. I gave up, too."

[dishonored_dreamer]

"So..." Angeal's hand reached toward the hilt of his sword. His fingers paused just inches away. He looked toward Zack. "Where does that leave us?"

[puppy_fair]

"In the woods," Zack replied. "On some island that won't leave the dead to the rest they wanted so badly."

He swallowed heavily.

"Cowards who both ran before the fight was through."

[dishonored_dreamer]

Angeal's hand fell to his side.

"My fight is over," he said. "I made sure of that."

He'd made sure that Zack had made sure of that.

"You're still alive."

Zack was silent again.

"The sword will be here," he added, carefully, "for when you stop running."

[puppy_fair]

"When I stop running."

Now it was Zack's turn to not look away from the blade, piercing blue eyes staring hard at the hilt.

Wear, tear, and rust.

"You say that like you expect me to be as good at this as you could have been."

[dishonored_dreamer]

"No," Angeal replied. His wings unfurled again and he spread them, lifting up into the trees. "I say that like I expect you to be better."

[puppy_fair]

Zack didn't move. Didn't reply. Just watched as Angeal vanished above the canopy of the forest, white feathers drifting down behind him.

He looked down at Girl.

"Come on," he murmured. "Let's go home."

He left the sword behind.