Chapter Text
The thing is: in all versions of this story – including the original and most – if not all – of the remakes – Sirius Orion Black the Third was the one who, through his fault and a very timely spell from his cousin Batty Bella, fell through the Veil of Death in front of his godson. It turns out that this time – luckily for an entire planet – the person in Batty Bella's aim was the mentioned – and unlucky – godson.
Suffice it to say that when Harry Potter fell through the Veil – which in some ways was connected with Death as well as being a shortcut through a WORLD TREE half eaten by a certain Calamity That Fell From the Sky –, a certain Tom Marvolo Riddle and some very specific objects suddenly – and coincidentally – burst into... flames? Well, it wasn't the usual magical fire – it was less true fire and more strangely watery green glow –, but you can understand what happened. From a cup in Gringotts' stomach to a diadem atop an ugly bust in a secret magical room at Hogwarts, to a locket in a house-elf's filthy nest, past a nasty snake to the main body – all self-destructed, all letting out hideous screams and a lot of steam of really venomous black magic.
For many, many years from that day in the Department of Mysteries, no one understood what the fuck happened after Harry Potter fell into the Veil of Death, except that a bunch of Horcruxes containing Lord Voldemort's soul pieces self-destructed, thus sparing the Wizarding World a new war and completely taking the wind out from Albus Dumbledore's sails, whose plans to – surprise of surprises – turning Harry into a martyr based on the vague idea that Death would take Voldemort's soul and not Harry's, which would allow the boy to come back to life after dying on the Dark Lord's wand – for neither can survive while the other is alive –because the boy was a Horcrux were abruptly interrupted.
In the end, for the people of that world, Harry Potter essentially died. But for the people of a specific world on the WORLD TREE, well... One of its saviors ironically just fell from the sky.
It all starts on a cliff.
If asked, Harry would say that falling through the Veil was like plunging into the Black Lake in February – damp, shocking, and miserably freezing. He can't breathe, he can't orient himself to swim up because there's no 'up', and as if just to rub salt in the wound, he lost his wand when he fell.
His wand and his life, that is, because that veil was called Veil of Death for good reason, and so Harry's pretty sure he's – hahaha – dead.
And if you asked him what it felt like to die, Harry would say that it was like being dragged by the ocean, pulling in a million different directions, and that – ironically – the afterlife was green. And he could feel himself pulling apart at the seams, little by little stopping from being Harry to being Everything, from being an individual to being part of the whole in the ocean of life, gliding gleefully down the gleaming green waterfalls and cascades that connected the worlds.
As easy and fast as falling asleep.
Oh my. No, no, it's not your time yet, little one. You're too special and important to be lost like this. And besides, me and my last daughter could use the help of a full Cetra like you.
There's a sharp tug as if the Giant Squid is dragging Harry down into the depths of the Lake, and then there's green water in his throat, in his lungs, in his veins, and his heart beats like a war drum, and there's so much lost knowledge suddenly crammed into his head that it hurts, and oh Merlin there is magic, so much magic and the Planet is dying, Gaia is dying, Magic is dying, there's a plague eating taking over the Planet and this is unacceptable.
Harry coughs and spits out the Lifestream's pure mako as he drops to his knees and then all fours on the dry earth, wet and shivering to the bone, and under his hands he can feel the Planet and the Lifestream singing to him, can feel the depletion and slow death caused by ShinRa's exploitation and rampant use of mako and cancer that is JENOVA.
He can feel the Paladins – or those who might be Paladins if he gets the JENOVA poison out of them – nearby, and one of them is dying and he can feel how important Zack Fair is – energy and hounds and swords and honor and duty and dreams you are my living legacy –, and because of that and because Gaea says it's not his time just like it wasn't Harry's time, he's going to save him.
The sky shudders and roars with thunder and lightning, and suddenly storm clouds are covering the sun, black and fat with rain, and the storm rages as Harry staggers to his feet and stumbles towards Zack, who is lying on the ground, bleeding and riddled with bullets, sword still in hand. Harry drops to his knees beside him and presses his hands covered in green light to him, but it's not working, Zack isn't healing, he's bleeding more, Gaia, please...!
"Fix him." Breathes Harry, determined, pulling the Lifestream through him as he would his magic in his old world. "Heal him. Come on, heal him now!"
Something snaps inside Harry, and the faint green glow turns golden red like phoenix fire, spreading through Zack's body as if he were dry wood, but instead of burning, it's healing, closing the bullet holes and the cuts and burns and mending the broken bones, and Harry almost cries as the black vapor that is JENOVA's corruption comes out of Zack's half-open mouth, a shred of tarry evil that hisses and dissolves in the rain. The Planet then whispers in Harry's ear, tells him what he must do, how he must do it, and the entire cliff glows like a beacon as the magic of the Cetras – magic that was almost entirely lost after the calamity fell from the sky – comes out of him and into Zack, the pure power and magic of the Lifestream replacing JENOVA's cells and preventing the mako from eating Zack away from the inside out.
When it's over, there is fresh grass and lilies in bloom under and around them and Harry is soaked and cold, and even more exhausted, but Zack Fair is alive. Alive, a Paladin and looking up at Harry with greenish blues eyes wide in astonishment and wonder.
"You are welcome," Harry tells him, shaking and shaking his head to ward off the ever-closer darkness of magical exhaustion. "Uh... I think I'm going to pass out."
And then he doesn't know anymore.
Zack... Zack has no fucking idea what the hell is going on. First, there was the desperate escape from Nibelheim, and then there was that whole thing with the Genesis' clones, and the less he said about Angeal and Sephiroth the better. And sure, there's Vincent, but who the hell knows where the guy goes after the absolute clusterfuck at the ShinRa Mansion – and besides, the guy was Hojo's experiment a lot longer than Zack and Cloud. He was entitled to time off, dammit.
In short, Zack was sure that if it hadn't been for Cissnei messing things up a bit behind the scenes and providing supplies whenever she could, they would have been caught a long time ago, long before they reached the Midgar Wastes, even more so with Cloud sick with the mako poisoning the way he was. But it was inevitable that they would be caught up at some point, with Cissnei's help or not, and Reno, Rude and Tseng were too good at their jobs to stay one step behind them for long.
So Zack hides a catatonic Cloudy as best he can behind some rocks and becomes an immovable object against the unstoppable force of the ShinRa army and their Turks.
Dying was going to suck, but Zack wasn't going to regret taking this one for the team, as long as Cloud survived.
And he does very well if you ask.
And later, when he's lying there with the Buster in his hand and hot blood spreading under him and cold spreading through his body, Zack blinks blindly at the sky and thinks Aerith's going to be very upset with him because he hasn't answered her letters or phoned with her in the last four years.
I hope Cloud meets her when he arrives in Midgar... Zack thinks, feeling his grip on the Buster handle loosens. He was so cold and exhausted... Maybe a nap will make him feel better?
He's so weary...
Zack closes his eyes as the sky darkens from the storm.
He feels a little tickle that seems to be a Cure or a Curaga, but it must be his dizzy head.
"Fix him. Heal him. Come on, heal him now!"
Heat. Pure heat runs through him and Zack feels the bullets melting away to nothing, as if they had never existed, and his body rebuilding itself, the blood multiplying and the muscles and skin sewing together, the bones repairing themselves and something being ripped out of him and leaving an empty black hole behind. And then that hole is filled with liquid, green something, and the mako running through Zack's veins resounds with it and sings.
Zack feels rain on his face and grass under his body, and the air smells of electric ozone and lilies. Then Zack opens his eyes and...
Oh.
It's a guy, so much like Aerith he could be her twin brother, but more at the same time – his hair and skin are darker, and his eyes are greener, more like a Wutaian jewel green than Aerith's leaf green, and he has a scar on his face that reminds Zack of lightning and war paint, a mark that runs from his hairline to his cheekbones, crossing his eyelids and the bridge of his nose and making him look even more pretty.
"You are welcome." He says, breathless and soaked and Zack can only stare. "Uh... I think I'm going to pass out."
Then the guy falls to the side, landing unconscious on the grass and flowers, and Zack slowly sits down in the small field of flowers with what he's pretty sure is the Lifestream in his veins in place of the mako, still not understanding what the hell was going on, but being sure of two things:
One: someone he's 80% sure is a Cetra like Aerith just saved his life – and by proxy, Cloud's life.
And two: he absolutely cannot allow ShinRa, but especially Hojo, to get their filthy hands on the guy like they did Aerith's mother and Aerith herself.
"Holy crap." Murmurs Zack, running a hand through his wet hair and letting out a short, hysterical laugh. "Holy crap. I think your shitty luck rubbed off on me, Spikey."
There's no response from Cloud, but that's okay, Zack wasn't expecting one. He then stands, places Buster in its magnetic sheath on his back, and reaches down to pick up the Cetra boy – who weighs the same as a bunch of grapes, which is to say, absolutely nothing, so much so that Zack can hold him against his hip with just one arm because, in addition to being light as a feather, the guy was also tiny, smaller even than Cloud, who was a runt even before he went through the mako at Nibelheim and grew four inches from the enhancement if that.
Oh, fuckin' crap. How the hell is Zack going to carry and protect them all with both hands full? Urgh. Okay. One problem at a time, he needs to check Cloud.
"Looks like we got a tagalong, Spikey," he says, crouching down next to Cloud and carefully turning his head to the side with a hand on his cheek to check if Cloud's eyes are less bright or perhaps sharper. They do not. "I'm pretty sure he's like Aerith though, and he just saved my life. Maybe he can help you too when he wakes up." Rambles Zack, having to do some contortionism maneuvers that challenged his balance to pull Cloud up until he had him half over his shoulder, half on his hip. "Well, we still have a few miles to go until we reach Midgar, so I hope our new friend wakes up by then. And that you get better so you can wake up too."
Predictably, Cloud is unresponsive.
"Just a few more miles, Cloudy. Just a little bit more."
Zack arranges his passengers, says a short prayer for protection on their journey to the Goddess, and staggers forward, toward the dark dot on the horizon.
These were going to be long, long miles.