Disclaimer: I don't own the Final Fantasy series. I know – it's a terrible injustice. But my therapist says I'll get over it someday… LOL!

Nothing Else Matters

Denzel moaned and struck his leg haplessly. It was useless, and the failure left him willing the gaping hole in his chest to fill with anything but the sob threatening just beneath his control. He was a terrible person, and there was nothing he could do to change it. No matter how hard he tried, no matter which memory he picked from, it was always the same. The image he tried so hard to recover was constantly disguised behind a smear of forgetfulness within his mind. He'd even tried to go back to Midgar, to the place where his house had once stood. But the wreckage surrounding his former home had been too dangerous to enter.

Tears burned his eyes, ready to spill out over his cheeks and onto the tightly clenched fists of his lap.

What kind of person could forget what his parents looked like?

"Denzel?"

The boy caught his breath, blinked rapidly and ground knuckles into his eyes, trying to hide damp lashes. A shadow passed between him and the sunny street beyond the bar's side alley. Leather creaked as Cloud crouched down beside him. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Pale blue eyes peered at him with concern and… something else. It was like he was waiting for something; waiting for Denzel to say something – to mention a name – so that Cloud could jump up and go after the one who had hurt his ward.

Somehow Cloud's concern only made him feel worse. Would Denzel forget Cloud someday, too? Or Tifa and Marlene?

"I'm fine." He mumbled and turned his head away. He thought about getting up and leaving, but more than his desire to get away, Denzel wanted to stay. He wanted someone to fix it… whatever 'it' was. His memory? His guilt? He couldn't place a name to the solution he wanted. He only knew he wanted this ache to go away – and he didn't know how to do it by himself.

Cloud nodded and moved, taking a seat on the pavement beside Denzel. He didn't say anything; he just leaned back against the wall of the bar and draped an arm over his knee, like he had nothing better to do. Denzel waited for Cloud to say something, but no words came. Cloud just sat there, as quiet and unmoving as the boy. For a while they sat, listening to the rhythm of Edge beyond their hiding place, neither giving any indication that they planned to talk about what troubled Denzel.

"Cloud?" Denzel broke the silence at last.

"Hm?"

"Why are you here?" His words came out sounding ungrateful and irritated, but Cloud seemed not to notice, and Denzel couldn't muster the apology he knew he owed his hero. He didn't know why he couldn't say he was sorry. This guilt and sadness confused him – he didn't know why he was reacting like he was. It didn't make sense and, if he chose to be honest with himself, he'd have admitted that he didn't really care about trying to figure it out. He just wanted this to stop.

Cloud's answer was not immediate, and soon enough Denzel doubted he would get an explanation at all. "I'm not like Tifa," The blonde answered at last, "I can't look at a person and know what's wrong. And I've never been any good at saying the right thing. But… being alone doesn't fix anything. It took me a long time to learn that." And that was it. Cloud, seemingly content to give up whatever plans he had for the day, returned to silence and left Denzel to his thoughts once more. The silence in their little alley grew heavy, weighing on the hollow point within Denzel's chest, making it ache with more of those feelings he couldn't explain, but just wanted gone.

At last he couldn't take it anymore, and his voice drove off the oppressive silence. "I forgot what they looked like," He was barely aware of what he said; only knowing that he had to speak. The words came out on their own, and he didn't try to stop them. "M-my parents. I can't…" the boy shook his head miserably. "I tried but, I can't remember their faces anymore. And I can't remember their voices, either. Or their laughs. I'm… forgetting them."

His eyes started to burn again, only this time Denzel didn't hide it. It didn't matter anymore if Cloud saw him cry. He was already a terrible person – being a crybaby wouldn't make things any worse.

The man beside him kept to his silence for a moment.

"I… remember everything." Cloud murmured at last. There was some new emotion in his voice and Denzel understood they were not talking about the boy's parents anymore. "Their voices. Their faces. The way they smelled. The moments they died…" Denzel's eyes rose to the man sitting beside him, staring off at nothing. "I remember," Cloud went on, "because it hurts. I remember to punish myself for letting them down. And that's not fair to them. They'd have wanted me to be happy to remember them."

Denzel's gaze flicked to the pink ribbon at Cloud's arm. Marlene had told him about Aerith, the flower girl who had traveled with them during their first big adventure. Everyone had loved her, but none more than Cloud.

And then both kids had heard snippets of a man named Zack – the man Cloud had once thought he was. That part completely confused Denzel but when he had asked Tifa about it, his guardian had smiled sadly and said he should ask Cloud about it when he was a little older.

"Your friends from before?" Denzel whispered. Cloud nodded. Denzel said nothing more. He didn't think he wanted to know the story yet – it seemed hard enough for the adults to handle, and they were way tougher than him.

"When you remember your mom and dad," Cloud continued softly, "do you remember being happy with them?"

Denzel thought for a moment before he nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you remember how you loved each other?"

"Yeah." Denzel was a little more confident this time. Of course he loved them – they were his mom and dad. He wouldn't be so upset about forgetting their faces if he didn't love them, would he?

"Then I think… that's all that matters. Their faces, their voices, it doesn't matter as long as you remember how you felt together."

Denzel's eyes dropped to his shoes. The silence returned, but Denzel didn't mind so much this time.

He did love his mom and dad, just as much as he always had. He tried to remember something about his mom, and instead of her face, what came to mind first was a warm hug. Thinking of dad made him remember riding high on a broad set of shoulders. He still couldn't picture their faces, but there were feelings in his memories. Happy. Carefree. Safe.

Loved.

It filled him up, filled up the hollow place in his chest; filled him up until there was almost no room for the sadness anymore. His mom and dad had loved him. He remembered that very well.

"Cloud," he said softly, "you're wrong." He nodded to himself, not really noticing when Cloud's eyes peered at him curiously. "You can say the right thing."

"And… and no matter what happens. No matter how old I get, I won't forget how I feel now." Denzel looked up to the blonde at his side, wanting to make sure Cloud heard him. "Thanks, for finding me back at the church that day."

Cerulean eyes sparkled. "I think I should be thanking you, since it was really you who found me."

"You…" Denzel could scarcely believe his ears, "you're grateful to me?"

"It's like I said, being alone doesn't fix anything," Cloud gave a small smile, "but having a family does."

"Are we a real family, Cloud?"

His guardian nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think we finally are."

Denzel's eyes burned fiercely with tears that refused to be held back. With the heels of his hands, he reached up to grind the sting from his eyes. He was aware of an arm as it encircled his head and back, and the hand that tousled his hair. Without thinking, Denzel reached up and wrapped thin arms around Cloud's neck.

"Thanks, Cloud." He whispered against the leather and cotton.

"Thank you, Denzel."

Fin

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I wanted to come back to Final Fantasy VII, but I wanted to try something different. Anyone who follows my work knows I like to try new things. Cloud really cares about the kids, and so I thought I'd do something centering around that part of the story. It's really short, which is weird for someone as long-winded as me, but writing more seemed too much (for once!) I just wanted to write something – I've been out of the scene for a long time and I was missing it. I hope you liked this!