A/N: We're getting close to the end now. I just wanted to say thanks to all you guys who loyally leave reviews for me. You're the best! I'm a slow writer, so every chapter takes a lot of hours, but it makes it all worthwhile to know that it has some kind of emotional impact on the readers. And now, without further ado...

Chapter 12 - Denzel's Time to Shine

"Man, I didn't realize how lopsided I was," Denzel complained as he held both arms out in front of himself. "What am I supposed to do with one strong arm and one wimpy arm?

Cloud glanced up from where he was working on Fenrir. It had been a while since they had just hung out in the garage like this. "One for power, one for finesse?" he suggested, a grin quirking his lips. When Denzel continued to stare blankly, he cleared his throat. "Yeah, it's definitely atrophied," he said. "You'll just have to work that one a little harder to get it caught up."

"Hmm. Yeah, I guess," Denzel said. "Hey! Cloud! We haven't had a training session in ages! Can we go practice now?"

Cloud wiped his hands on an oily rag as he considered his request. "Yeah, I suppose. Give me 15 minutes."

Denzel was definitely still on that high from getting his arm back. He could barely sit still while he waited for Cloud to finish what he was doing and get cleaned up and changed. He had gone inside the training room after exactly 15 minutes, and it felt like ages before Cloud finally showed up. He pulled out a key on a chain from one of his many pockets and unlocked the door to the equipment room. Skoll was in there, a shining gem among all the plain, worn practice swords. Denzel was practically drooling to get his hands on it.

"Um…can I…use Skoll? I know it's just practice but…"

The corners of Cloud's mouth twitched upward. "Go ahead. It's yours." Denzel felt another rush of joy at those words. "Just make sure you do the maintenance afterwards."

"I will, I will!" Denzel promised. Cloud chuckled and handed him the sword, grabbing another plain practice sword for himself.

They walked out to the center of the training room—Denzel maybe closer to skipping—and took their stances. Denzel fell into it as naturally as if he'd never been away. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for his arm. It was weak and clumsy. He was almost better off swinging with his right arm alone, which was really sad.

As practice went on, he found himself becoming more and more frustrated. He felt like he was starting all over again. He felt weak and incompetent. The high from his fixed arm was gone. He gritted his teeth and swung hard, putting all of his anger into his motion. The next thing he knew, his hands were empty. It took him a moment to understand that Cloud had disarmed him. He growled and turned to retrieve his sword, but Cloud caught his wrist.

"What?" Denzel demanded. "I'm just going to get it." Cloud didn't say anything, but he didn't release his wrist either. "What's the problem?" Denzel stared hard into cool blue eyes. They were unyielding.

"You have to learn to fight it," Cloud finally said.

"What are you talking about? Fight you?" Cloud just shook his head. Denzel was getting really sick of playing this guessing game. Anger and frustration were flowing through him like a current.

Oh. That.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but the anger refused to release him. It was so ridiculous! If Cloud would just let him go and let him get his sword, he would be fine. How was he supposed to let go of his anger when Cloud was purposely trying to make him mad?

"This isn't you, Denzel. Don't let her control you."

The thought that his feelings might not be his own was like being doused with cold water. He closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles. How do I really feel about this? He envisioned the current of anger flowing out through his fingertips. So what if my arm is weak? At least it works! I just need time to make it stronger. Yes, those were his own thoughts. He opened his eyes again. Cloud released his wrist and gave him a small smile.

"I did it," Denzel said, his own smile spreading. "I beat her!"

Cloud nodded. "You did, but you'll have to keep working at it. She's clever. She'll convince you that you have a reason to…" He trailed off and rubbed his face. "That's probably enough practice for today."

Denzel retrieved his sword and brought it into the equipment room. He couldn't help staring at Cloud as they cleaned up their weapons. He seemed to understand her on a very intimate level. Denzel wanted to ask about it, but Cloud was giving off a strong 'don't wanna talk about it' vibe, so he continued cleaning his sword in silence.

Cloud finished before Denzel, since Denzel had all three blades to clean and oil, but as promised, he didn't complain. Cloud left him to finish his maintenance and wandered off.

Once he had finished with Skoll, Denzel put it back together and stared at his reflection in the gleaming blade. What if he just took it now? Maybe Cloud wouldn't even notice when he came to lock the room back up. Maybe he wouldn't even lock it. After all, he had trusted Denzel enough to let him train with it and enough to leave him to clean it alone.

Denzel tilted the blade from side to side, watching the light bounce off the metal. He felt so much more at home with the sword in his hands. His room felt so empty without the tools that had started to feel like a part of him. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that reclaiming his sword was a good idea. Hadn't he just shown that he could overpower her will?

She's clever. She'll convince you that you have a reason to…

Denzel gritted his teeth and forced himself to put Skoll back where it belonged. The bottom line was that Cloud had given him a small measure of trust. He wasn't going to betray that trust, even if he thought he could get away with it. He left the equipment room and closed the door firmly behind him.

When he walked into the kitchen, he found Cloud leaning against the counter with a bottle of water. He tilted his head as he looked at Denzel. "All finished?"

Denzel nodded. Cloud pulled the key from his pocket as he walked past him to the training room. It really was just a tiny bit of trust, then. Denzel was glad that he had made the right decision.

Things were starting to feel a little more normal around Seventh Heaven. Tifa had worked with Marlene to figure out her new magic point capacity, which was surprisingly higher than it had been previously. She had gotten their blessing to use materia when she thought it was necessary, with a warning to be very careful not to overdo it again and to avoid Ether completely.

Denzel and Cloud had gotten back on to a regular training schedule. Denzel had some weight training thrown in to help with his weak arm, which was quickly regaining muscle, although it would probably never be as strong as his primary arm.

Marlene was back to her optimistic, cheerful self. She got to spend every lunch hour plus many after-school hours with Lexi, who actually couldn't have cared less if her peers saw her with a younger girl. The biggest point of contention in the household now was how much time Denzel spent tying up the phone lines with Alicia. He alternated between the Seventh Heaven line and the Strife Delivery Service line, depending on time of day. In all honesty, it made Tifa happy that their biggest concern was regular teenage angst.

Cloud didn't seem to be having any more of his episodes; he'd been careful not to use the materia inside of him since they'd returned from their trip. He had an almost constant smell of burning wood about him, but it was actually a rather pleasant scent. Everyone in the house was quite used to it by now. Marlene remarked on it several times, still unaware of the entire situation with the materia, but she gave up asking when everyone else just shrugged.

The reconstruction was finally making some progress. With the additional help of the WRO and some better organization of efforts, much of the downtown area had been repaired already. The school was entirely restored, and Cloud had started delivering packages again. Tifa still helped out with rebuilding before bar hours, and the bar was busier than ever at night. She should have been run ragged from her long hours, but with the release of the stress surrounding her family, she seemed to have tapped into some secret source of hidden energy.

With everything going so well, they should have known that the rug was about to be pulled out from under them again.

It was Saturday afternoon. Tifa went back and forth between the kitchen and the bar, preparing for the weekend rush. Denzel was sweeping the floor and getting the tables set up. Cloud, Niko, Marlene and Lexi were seated at one of the tables, in the midst of a lively poker game.

Lexi seemed to have gotten over her shyness around Niko, although she was a little more giggly than usual. Denzel found that it didn't even bother him anymore. Niko was genuinely a nice guy who put up with her fawning with good-natured tolerance.

Niko peered over the top of his cards, eyes flickering between the other three. "Check," he finally says.

"Aww come on, Niko! Live a little!" Marlene taunted him.

Denzel turned away to hide his snicker. Niko was terrible at bluffing. If they were playing with real money, he would have been beyond broke. Cloud was master at the poker face, but didn't like to take risks. He bet small and built his stacks of chips a little at a time. Lexi was a mediocre player, never entirely sure when she should be raising and when to fold, or maybe she was just too distracted by Niko to care.

Marlene was as sharp and cunning as always. Sometimes she let her expression slip, but only at carefully calculated times. She threw everyone off until they thought they knew how to read her. Then when she got an amazing hand, she acted the way they expected her to act on a bluff and raked it in. Then she changed up her strategy and reactions and confused them all over again. Her empire of chips grew in leaps and bounds, surpassing Cloud's slow-and-steady approach. Denzel had been thrown off by her constructed reactions enough times by now; it was the main reason he volunteered to help Tifa get the bar ready and let them play.

Cloud stood up suddenly and all chatter in the room stopped. He had that look on his face that they all knew meant he was hearing something.

He scrunched his eyebrows together. "What…?"

They waited patiently for him to finish, but he never did. "What is it, Cloud?" Tifa finally prodded.

He shook his head slowly, still listening. "I'm not sure. It sounds like stone and metal and…it's something big," he said, taking two running steps toward the door, pulling his harness off the hook as he ran by, and then he was out the door.

The slamming of the door was a trigger that threw everyone else into motion. Niko dashed up the stairs to get his gun and vest. Tifa pulled her gloves from her back pocket and wiggled her hands into them as she barked out instructions for the kids to stay put by the phone, and that they would call if they needed them – which of course meant that she had no intention of calling at all.

Denzel ran toward the training room, praying that Cloud had forgotten to lock the equipment room, just this once. He yanked on the handle and then smacked the door in frustration when it didn't budge. Cloud carried the key on him. How was he going to get to his weapon? He hadn't done anything but training since their return, and his fingers itched at the thought of monsters tearing apart his town again.

"Tifa!" He yelled as he ran back through the kitchen, hoping she hadn't left yet. "Tifa, wait!"

Tifa burst through the kitchen door, barreling straight into him. They both stumbled backwards. Tifa caught his shoulders. "What is it, Denzel?

"I need my weapon, Tifa! Cloud keeps the key to the equipment room on him. Can you get in to it?"

Tifa shook her head. "No, Denzel. You stay here. There's no reason for you to get involved."

Denzel's temper flared. "Why are you even bothering to let Cloud train me if you never want me to fight?! Come on, Tifa, this is stupid! I can help."

Tifa chewed on her lip, torn with indecision. The noise outside was loud enough now that everyone else could hear it. It was coming from all directions, clearly audible as growling and screaming and splintering and snapping.

"Look, if you won't help me get to my weapon, I'll just run out there without one."

Shaking her head, Tifa pushed past him. Denzel almost stopped her before he saw her destination. She pulled open a drawer of miscellaneous junk. Her nimble fingers searched rapidly and withdrew a small silver key. She tossed it to Denzel. "Get your sword and then meet me back in the kitchen. Do not leave without me."

Tifa ran for the stairs without glancing back. Denzel grinned and ran back to the equipment room. He slid the key into the lock and it turned easily. He could hear the dramatic music in his head as he pulled open the door. There it was: Skoll, gleaming in the dusty gloom. His fingers wanted to snatch it up, but he ran past it and pulled open a different cupboard. He had finally learned better than to rush out unprepared. Cloud had stressed the importance of mobility, so they didn't keep a ton of armor, but there was a good selection of bracers in there. Denzel usually used only the leather during training because it was flexible and he really didn't need the protection, but this was real. He sifted through them and finally decided on the Dragon Armlet. It had 6 materia slots, and he had to admit that it just looked cool. He slid it on his arm and then grabbed a pair of gloves from the box. He remembered this time why Cloud always wore them. Finally, he snatched Skoll and Skoll's sheath as he ran out.

When he reached the kitchen, Tifa was already there, digging through a large box of materia. Denzel's fancy wooden materia box sat next to it. With a grin, Denzel opened his and slid his few pieces into the slots. He looked over at the giant box. "Can I use some of yours?" he asked Tifa.

"Take what you need," she said distractedly, pulling out various pieces.

It wasn't at all sorted, and it took them some time to figure out what everything was. They had to pull out every piece to listen to it, as Denzel quickly learned that it was pointless to try to listen when it was touching a dozen other pieces. She really could have used a box like Denzel's.

Eventually he found enough materia to fill all of his slots. He'd found an All materia to link with Ice, his naturally strongest element. He also equipped several that he'd never used before – mostly status effects that were really hit-or-miss whether the monsters were vulnerable, but he may get a chance to try them. He already had all four basic elements and a Restore equipped.

Tifa closed the box and checked over his equipment. She nodded with approval. "Ok, let's go. Stay close to me," she ordered.

Marlene and Lexi watched with wide eyes as the two of them ran through the bar area. They stepped out into the street and looked around. They could see monsters in every direction. Some of them were just wandering aimlessly, not necessarily attacking anyone or destroying anything, so they weren't a priority yet, but they had no idea where to start.

A scream from the north made the decision for them. Tifa and Denzel raced toward the sound just in time to witness a young woman being cut down by a bagnadrana. Denzel raised his sword and sliced through its neck before it could take a chomp of the screaming toddler next to her. Tifa knelt down and administered a cure, helping the woman to her feet. "Take your son and get to the town hall," she said.

"How?" the woman cried.

They turned around to look. The streets were filled with beasts. There was no way a civilian would be able to get past all of them to the hall. Tifa flexed her fingers restlessly. "Alright. We'll cut a path through, and you follow us there. Stay close, but not so close that you get in the way. Got it?"

The woman nodded shakily and propped the little boy up on her hip.

Tifa locked eyes with Denzel. "Are you ready for this?"

Denzel nodded with determination. "I'm ready."

They fought their way forward, slicing and punching and kicking. When Denzel had room to breathe, he looked around at the mob. There had to be a better way to take these guys down than one at a time. He closed his eyes and called out to the lifestream. It swirled around him, the power rushing through his fingers. He opened them and cast blizzaga.

"Denzel, no!" Tifa yelled, but she was too late.

A loud crackling surrounded them as ice raced around them in a circle. Tifa dove on top of the woman and the little boy, knocking them to the ground, covering them with her body. The little boy started to wail again. Tifa cringed as the ice coated her back and then shattered.

"Tifa!" Denzel cried. He ran over and helped her up. "Tifa, I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking about them—"

Tifa checked over the woman and child, who had taken a bit of damage from the ice, although Tifa had absorbed the brunt of it. "Denzel, you can't use materia like that when there are civilians so close. Wide area spells like that hit everything."

Denzel felt like he'd been slapped. He should have known better. The woman looked like she was on the verge of tears, the parts of her that had been exposed covered with nasty frostbite. The toddler had one bright red ear and was sobbing in earnest. Denzel reached over and cured them. Tifa winced and looked at the remaining monsters around them. His spell had actually taken out quite a few, so it wasn't actually the worst thing he could have done.

"Come on," she said, starting toward the town hall again. As soon as the woman was out of hearing range, she leaned over next to his ear, "and conserve your magic points. I know it sounds harsh, but they weren't critical. It's going to be a very long day and you'll need them."

She spun and kicked a grounded diablo in the face to punctuate her sentence. Denzel got the hint. Break time was over. He raised his sword and charged in to the mob, slashing and slicing and parrying. He was pleased to see that the armlet was actually protecting him from quite a few hits. The rest of the damage was mainly bumps and scrapes. So far everything was superficial, and he intended to keep Tifa's warning in mind. He didn't need to heal himself yet.

Tifa jumped high into the air to grab the foot of a dive-bombing lessaloploth. At the height of her jump, over the heads of the mob of monsters, she saw a small group of people cowering in a nearby doorway. She grabbed the foot of the lessaloploth and hurled it into the mob, knocking them over like bowling pins. She landed next to Denzel. "Clear a path to that doorway," she shouted over the deafening noises of the monsters.

Denzel nodded and cut a swath through them while Tifa protected the woman and child from the mob that crowded in from all sides. When he reached the group, he cleared out the space in front of the doorway. "Follow us to the town hall," he yelled.

"Wait!" A middle-aged man called as he turned away. "My wife, she can't—"

Denzel looked back at the woman in his arms. She had a deep slash across her chest. She definitely looked critical.

"And my husband!" another lady said. The man slumped on the ground against a wall. He wouldn't be walking anywhere, either.

Denzel glanced back at Tifa, but she was too far away to ask. She was in the middle of a large stampede, trying to keep anything from getting past her. He held up his hand and cured both of them.

"Ok, now let's go," he said.

"What about my arm?" A little girl's trembling voice drew his attention. She had wisps of dark hair floating around her head like a halo. Her big brown eyes pleaded with him. Her arm looked broken, but she could walk.

It physically hurt him to do it, but he forced himself to shake his head. "I'm sorry, I can't. They'll fix you up when you get to the town hall." He jumped in front of another woman and stabbed an 8 eye reaching for her. They had to move. "We'll try to clear a path to get you all to the hall. Stay close, but not close enough to get hit, ok?"

The people all nodded in agreement and Denzel started re-clearing the path that had filled in between him and Tifa. When he reached her, she looked over at him and smiled. "You really can handle yourself on the battlefield, can't you?"

The compliment sent a warm feeling through him, but he didn't have time to enjoy it. They were moving forward again. Denzel cut through the front, killing most of the monsters. Tifa covered the back and sides of their little group, which grew as they made their way toward the hall and found more survivors. She focused on flinging most of them far away. It was quicker and she didn't have time to actually kill everything that threatened the civilians.

It took the better part of an hour for them to reach the town hall. By then, their group had swelled to about 50 people. Denzel practically fell through the door. He grabbed on to the back of a bench just inside the doorway, trying to hold himself up while staying out of the way of the people stampeding in behind him. He slid Skoll into his sheath. It was still covered in gore, and now it was on the inside of the sheath, too. He would have to clean them both later.

"Sit down, dear. You need a break."

Denzel raised his head. Eleanor Joya gave him a kindly smile and gestured to the bench. Gratefully, he dropped his weight onto the bench and rested his head against the wall. "Here, drink this," she said, holding out a potion.

"It's ok, I don't need it," he said, pushing it away wearily.

Ms. Joya's voice took on the commanding tone of a mother. "Don't be stubborn, Denzel. I can see that you clearly do, and if you intend on going back out there, you need your strength even more."

He lifted his head out of sheer surprise. He didn't realize that she even knew his name. He looked down at himself, for the first time really feeling the assorted aches and stinging throughout his body. There was blood everywhere, although he couldn't say to whom it actually belonged. Finally, he reached over and took the vial from Ms. Joya. It almost slipped through his fingers, but the grip on the gloves saved him.

She sat there and watched him drink the whole thing, as if he were a kid who might try to get out of taking his medicine if she weren't looking. Actually, he reflected that it probably was what she was thinking. As the thick liquid slid down his throat, he felt a gradual easing of the pain. It wasn't the same as a cure. There was no cool tingle, and it was slower, but it seemed to restore some energy, too.

Denzel handed her the empty vial and she took it gingerly. It was covered in blood from his gloves. He smiled sheepishly. "You got a towel or something?"

Tifa came through the door at the end of the train of civilians. "Tifa!" Ms. Joya jumped up and grabbed her wrist. "Is Marlene coming? We could really use her help again."

Tifa glanced over the town hall doubtfully. "I don't know, Eleanor," she said. She was torn between the need to protect Marlene and the desire to help all of these clearly wounded people.

"Please, Tifa," she practically begged. "Tell me what to do to keep her safe. I'll try to keep her from overdoing it again, but these people are dying without her. There's nothing Doc Marten or I can do to help them after a certain point, but she can." Her eyes filled up with tears as she looked over at the corner. There were already several bodies lined up there.

Tifa looked pained as she peeled off a glove and pulled her phone from a deep pocket. She selected Cloud's number and sat on the bench next to Denzel, giving him an encouraging smile while she waited for him to pick up.

"Tifa?" was his greeting. "Is everything ok?" Denzel could hear everything, including the sound of his sword slicing through beasts and his slightly elevated breathing.

"Yeah, we're ok," Tifa said. "Are you still near Fenrir?"

"Uh huh. Why?" *Swish, thud. Swish, thud.*

"Can you bring Marlene and Lexi to the town hall?"

*Swish, thud. Swish, thud. Swish, thud.* That was how long he hesitated – three strikes of his sword. "Are you sure?"

Tifa sighed. "Yeah. She'll have to be careful, but if she can save their lives…"

The familiar roar of the engine came through the speaker. "Ok, I'm on my way." *Click*

Short and to the point, like all of his phone calls. Tifa put away her phone and her expression grew stern as she looked at Ms. Joya. "I'm counting on you to take care of her, Eleanor. No more than two Ethers, and please, only the most critical cases."

Ms. Joya pressed her lips together. "I'll do my best, Tifa, but if it comes down to someone's death or her weakness…"

Tifa slouched against the bench, her expression resigned. "I know. You're right. Just…use your best judgement." She scanned the room again. "Is Carey here? We should each take a couple of Ethers, too."

"Yes, he's right over there," she said, pointing to the hairy apothecary.

Tifa stood and made her way across the hall. There was a brief discussion and then Carey pulled out several bottles and lined them up along the counter. Denzel grinned, reading the conversation from their body language as clearly as if he could hear their voices. Tifa was offering to pay for the bottles and Carey was insisting that she was helping the town and he couldn't possibly charge her for them.

He stood and tried to find a clean enough place on his pants to wipe his gloves. He had rested enough. It was time to get back out there. He swiped his hands against his legs, but it was hard to tell if they were getting any cleaner.

"I'm sorry, Denzel, I forgot. Here." Ms. Joya held out a folded handkerchief – one of the pink flowered hankies she'd used to triage last time.

Denzel accepted it with a smile and a soft "thanks." It reminded him of the hankies Ruvie used to make. He wiped his gloves and then the handle of his sword, much more satisfied with the grip.

"Here, take a few more with you," she said, tucking more of the pink-flowered hankies in one of his hip pockets. "You'll probably need them later."

Tifa returned and held out two bottles of Ether and two hi-potions. "Here, take these with you." She frowned as she looked at his waist. "You don't have a supply belt."

Denzel shook his head. "I guess my pockets will work for now." He took the bottles and tucked two into the pocket with the hankies, the other two into the pocket at the opposite hip.

Tifa tucked away her own supplies and nodded. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

They stepped outside and gaped at the monsters who had congregated around the town hall. They clearly knew where the people were gathering. It was going to make it even harder for the citizens to find their way to safety.

Screams and cries for help echoed from all directions. Tifa got that determined look on her face. "I'll get these people. You get to the old man," she said, pointing to their targets.

The old man was only about a block from the city hall, but his luck had very nearly run out. He was cornered in an alley blocked by a dumpster. Another bagnadrana was trying unsuccessfully to squeeze into the crack. As Denzel sliced and slashed his way toward the mouth of the alley, he heard the rapidly approaching clicking of nails against pavement behind him. He spun around just in time to catch the Nibel wolf leaping at his face.

He swung frantically, catching one rear foot, but it still knocked Denzel to the ground. The edge of his armlet struck the pavement, causing an unexpected jarring down his arm. He let out a startled cry as he dropped his sword and it skittered out of his reach.

The weight of the Nibel wolf pressed down on his chest. A long string of drool stretched slowly down to land on Denzel's neck. He stayed absolutely still, breathing as shallowly as possible. A growl was rumbling low in the wolf's throat. He didn't want to startle it into attacking.

He didn't recognize many of the animals he'd been fighting that day, but he knew this one, because Cloud had told him stories about them on their camping trip. Denzel didn't know anything about its strengths or weaknesses; he only knew that it was a long, long way from home and had no business near Midgar.

He had asked about some of the odd beasts during the very first attack.

'Isn't there some kind of book with all of these different monsters?' Denzel had asked.

Cloud had laughed out loud. 'Ah, I doubt it. People don't generally go searching out these things. They stay as far away from them as possible.'

'But you've seen them all, Cloud. Haven't you? You fought your way across the whole planet.'

Cloud had scratched the back of his head in that familiar gesture that always put Denzel at ease. 'Yeah, I guess so, but I didn't exactly stop to take pictures.'

So now here he was, a completely foreign beast threatening to rip his throat out, and he was helpless. He would need to move several feet to the side to get his sword, but the wolf was on a hair-trigger. There was no one nearby. There was no one coming to help him because no one would know that he needed help.

Denzel could feel the sweat trickling down the side of his face. The wolf's teeth shone in the late afternoon sun as it snarled, but his teeth weren't the only shiny thing. Something else glinted in the corner of his eye. Denzel looked in that direction, careful not to move anything but his eyes. The red jewel in the Dragon Armlet sparkled.

Of course! I'm not helpless!

He closed his eyes and called out to the lifestream. The wolf seemed to sense something, raising its hackles and digging its claws into Denzel's chest. He ignored the pain, focusing all of his energy on the space around the wolf. A moment later, it was completely encased in ice. Denzel lifted a shoulder and the block of frozen wolf tipped sideways, shattering on the pavement.

The whole showdown felt like it took ages, but it must have all happened in a matter of seconds, because no other beasts had converged on him while he was pinned down by the wolf. He got to his feet and scrambled over to his sword, feeling the comforting weight in his hands. He started toward the alley again, realizing then why none of the other monsters had shown interest in him. They were busy eating.

Most of them didn't even know he was coming. He cut them all down from behind, mowing a path to the alley. He shoved the last dead beast out of the way with his foot and looked to see what it had been blocking. He immediately turned his head and vomited what was left of his grilled cheese from lunch.

It was kindly old Mr. Mio from the general store – or at least what was left of him. He had always been nice to Denzel, slipping him penny candy that he saw him eyeing longingly through the glass display case. He would always hold a finger to his lips and wink, whispering to Denzel that he'd better not tell Tifa that he'd ruined his dinner. Now that he was older, he realized that Mr. Mio had always been teasing him; that one little piece of candy never ruined his dinner. This image, on the other hand, would stick with him for a long, long time. He wasn't sure if he would ever want to eat again.

Denzel leaned his face against the cool brick of the building, catching his breath and spitting the acrid taste out of his mouth. He briefly thought about returning his body to the town hall so that he could be properly mourned, but he swallowed hard and stood up. The living had to be a priority.

He forced himself to look back at the grisly scene in the alley. "Sorry, Mr. Mio," he whispered as he leaned down and closed the old man's eyes.

Tifa burst through the door of the town hall, her eyes seeking out her little brunette. "Marlene!" she called, dashing across the room, ducking around the people milling slowly with nowhere to go.

Marlene finished sealing up the inside of the wound she had been treating. She had been leaving people's outsides to be healed some other way. As long as they weren't bleeding out, she was repairing internal organs and then passing them on to someone else.

Tifa skidded up to her and grabbed her arm. "Marlene! Have you seen Denzel? I can't find him anywhere."

Marlene's brow wrinkled. "Yeah, I've seen him a couple times. I think he's been bringing people in."

Tifa glanced back at the door, chewing on her bottom lip. She must have been doing a lot of chewing that day, because it was already bleeding in a couple places. She pulled out her phone and called Cloud, repeating the question to him.

"I thought he was with you," Cloud said, a note of accusation in his tone.

"He was, but we got separated near the town hall," she said guiltily.

"I'm nowhere near there, Tifa." He paused for a second. "Do you want me to come and help you look?"

Tifa tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice. "No, it's ok. I'm sure I'll find him before you get all the way over here."

Even Marlene could see through that. She hoped Cloud would, too.

"Ok. Let me know if you find him."

Tifa agreed and hung up the phone. Marlene wondered if Cloud was on his way over anyway. Tifa looked down at her again. "Are you still doing ok?"

"I'm fine," Marlene said. She really was. Her capacity for healing was so much greater now that she wasn't even close to needing her first Ether. It seemed ridiculous how overly cautious they were being. Those people were in pain and she could have helped them, but at least they were alive.

Unexpectedly, Tifa pulled her into a tight hug. She ran her hand over Marlene's soft hair. "Be careful, ok?" she murmured in her ear.

Marlene found herself strangely choked up by the gesture. "I will," she said, hoping to reassure Tifa. "And if I see Denzel again, I'll tell him to wait here for you."

Tifa smiled and gave her one last squeeze. "Thanks, honey." Then she turned and ran back out the door.

Denzel was on his own, but at least he had his trusty pal, Skoll. He didn't see Tifa after leaving Mr. Mio, but he had heard several more cries for help and had escorted many people to the town hall.

An itch started in his head, faster and more intense than any before. He stopped and closed his eyes. He didn't have time to draw, but he could see a little bit through the distorted, blurred image in his mind.

It was the town square. It was almost the same as the drawing he had made back at the cabin, but only half as damaged. Is it happening right now? He didn't know for sure, but he wasn't going to ignore his instincts this time. He took off at a run toward the square, feeling more certain with every step than the rumbling was originating there.

He came around the corner of Mr. Mio's store and skidded to a stop. There, swatting at the entryway to the postal building, was the biggest and strangest looking monster Denzel had ever seen. It was taller than any of the buildings in the square, and could be most closely approximated to an adamantoise, if that adamantoise were violent and blind and flailing around in an enclosed space.

Denzel pulled out his sword just in time to deflect a flying brick that was on a straight line to his left eye. There was so much debris flying that it was hard to tell what was happening. He needed to get behind something and strategize. Cloud had lectured him on that enough times. 'Don't just rush in, guns blazing, unless you know you can win like that.'

A fallen beam provided a fairly sheltered area in the northwest corner of the square, so Denzel made a run for it. He deflected a few more pieces of debris on the way, and didn't deflect a few more. By the time he slid behind the beam, he was scratched and bleeding in several places, but a quick evaluation told him they were minor enough to ignore.

The beast had sharp, assorted spikes covering its back and tail. The tail was long, even longer than the body, causing the majority of the damage just flipping back and forth. As Denzel watched, it turned in just the right way to take down the monument in the center of the square. The skin of the beast was saggy and wrinkled, but for all of the destruction to the square, he didn't appear to have a single snag. His skin was tough. That made the sword most likely useless. What now?

'Look for weaknesses. What element is it using? Which side of its body is it shielding? If it's covered by a shell or some kind of armor, are there any openings?' Denzel heard it so clearly that Cloud might have been speaking right in his ear.

The skin under its spikes did look hardened, but the rest of the skin must have also been strong enough. That left its eyes as the most vulnerable place, but they were far too high to reach with his sword.

'Watch for its behavior. What are the monster's motivations?'

Well, that was a good question. It seemed to be digging for something, swatting continuously at the entrance to the post office with its short front legs. The opening was slowly crumbling with each swat. Whatever it wanted, it would be reaching it soon. Denzel needed to get a closer look.

He darted out from his shelter, following the perimeter of the square to get around to the side of the monster. As he reached the next corner, he heard something more chilling than the growls and snorts of the beast: screaming. Human screaming. Denzel pulled himself up the side of one of the crumbling buildings, trying to see inside the entryway. It wasn't entirely effective, since he was still trying to block debris with his sword, but he was able to get just high enough to see. The people were indeed huddled in that entryway, only they weren't just people – it was Jason and Jesse. As he watched, the monster swatted again, clipping the arms that they were using to shield their heads. It was almost reaching them. Denzel was out of time for strategizing.

"Time for guns blazing," he murmured. Elements would be a crapshoot, but he had to try something. Dropping down to the ground, he held up his sword in front of him, the way he had been taught for lightning. It was the strongest materia he had, and he only had one giant beast to aim for, so it seemed like a good bet. Denzel focused as hard as he could, the lifestream immediately swirling around him. He raised his sword high, throwing his whole body into it. A bolt of lightning streaked down from the sky, spearing the beast right in the middle of its back.

The beast didn't even flinch, but Denzel bet the twins had, judging by their screams. "Try something else, Denzel," he muttered aloud. So he did. He tried sleep, toad, and poison, to absolutely no effect. Maybe it was time to try his sword after all. He swallowed hard and held Skoll over his shoulder, then charged.

It might have been his best slash-magic combo attack ever, if he hadn't ended up flat on his back before he ever reached the monster. Struggling to pull breath into his lungs, he pushed himself into a sitting position. Cloud had knocked the wind out of him a few times during practice, but this was different. He was vulnerable. He couldn't lay there until he recovered. There wouldn't be an outstretched hand to help him to his feet. Luckily, he was a fly on the wall as far as the beast was concerned.

He tried to get to his feet, but they slid out from under him again. Denzel would have screamed in frustration if he'd been capable of pulling in that much air yet, but he wasn't. He looked down at the ground and something clicked. Ice! He was on ice! In fact, the unidentified coating he'd seen in his drawing was frost covering everything within a 25-foot radius of the monster.

Carefully this time, he stood up, ignoring the groans of his bruised and battered body. At least he could breathe now. He glanced around for something sturdy. He would need to brace himself on something in order to cast fire, or the force would throw him backwards without the friction of his feet on the ground.

One of the boys was crying rather loudly now, and Denzel prayed he wasn't already too late. "Jesse! Jason!" he yelled, working his way around behind the monster. The crying quieted. "Hang in there, I'm coming!"

"Please! Please hurry!" one of them sobbed. "My brother…he's—"

Denzel didn't wait to hear what was wrong with one of the brothers, though. He had reached what was left of the monument, wrapped his left arm around it, and braced his foot in front of it. With a burst from his almost-mastered fire materia, he rained fire down on the monster.

This time, the monster responded. He roared and turned around, looking for the source of the fire.

"Guys, RUN!" Denzel shouted.

Jesse and Jason didn't ask questions. They darted out of the doorway and ran.

The monster honed in on Denzel and started toward him with lumbering footsteps. The ground shook with every step and roar of the giant beast. Denzel was fairly certain he was the only other living being in the square now. He had free reign to pour fire on the monster. He cast firaga again, and the beast roared and reared back in its burning shower.

It was working, but Denzel needed to move. It was getting too close to the monument that he was using for support. He had long since lost track of how much magic he had been using, so he was only slightly surprised when his next spell fizzled at his fingertips as he ran backwards. Firaga took a lot out of him.

The last couple blasts of fire had melted much of the ice on the ground, but for every step closer the beast lumbered, frost spread and water re-froze. Denzel fumbled in his pocket for an Ether, untangling it from one of Ms. Joya's hankies. He kept backing up, one hand still using his sword to block flying debris. He pulled the cork out of the bottle with his teeth and dropped it on the ground. An especially large chunk of building materials flew at him, forcing Denzel to duck. Some of the Ether spilled onto his hand from the open bottle. He swore under his breath, feeling foolish as he tried to lick the valuable liquid off his glove, and then spitting as he realized how much coppery blood was mixed in. He spit out as much as he could and then poured the rest of the bottle into his mouth.

He wasn't moving fast enough. The ice had gotten behind him and he now had to contend with the slippery ground while he cast his fire. He did it anyway, the force throwing him to the ground as he expected.

"Denzel! This way!"

The voice was faint. Denzel's eyes scanned the square as he got to his feet and tried to put some distance between himself and the monster.

"Up here!" The voice called again. "The skybridge!"

Denzel looked up. Jesse and Jason were at the center of the skybridge that arched over the top of the square. He could see one of their backs, sitting against the rails of the bridge, but the other was standing and waving his arm.

He glanced at the rest of the square. The destruction was nearly as complete as his drawing now. He couldn't remember seeing the skybridge in the picture, though. It ran from one corner of the square to the opposite corner, offering pedestrians a top-down view of the heart of the city. It was high enough to be above the drawing, which also made it high enough to be out of the beast's reach. It was brilliant.

Taking a chance, knowing Cloud would probably have scolded him if he'd been there, Denzel turned his back to the monster and made a run for the skybridge. He cast firaga once more when he was out of the reach of the ice, grinning at the pained sound it made every time fire struck its frozen skin.

He reached the bottom of the skybridge and leapt onto the stairs. He slid his sword into its sheath and used the railing to swing onto the bridge, his momentum propelling him partially up the slope. It was a long way up though, and Denzel was already pretty tired. By the time he reached the twins in the center, he dropped to his hands and knees to catch his breath.

"You made it," Jason said weakly. He was the one sitting on the ground, leaning against the railing of the skybridge. Denzel could see why now. A nasty gash across one thigh dripped blood down the side of his jeans and formed a puddle on the bridge below it. His brother must have supported most of his weight, or he would never have made it up the slope of the skybridge.

Denzel held up his hand, ready to heal him. The lack of color in his face told Denzel that it was critical enough, but he stopped himself. He was going to need those magic points. He reached into his pocket instead, untangling the potion from one of the hankies. "Here, drink this," he said, handing it to Jason.

Jason took it hesitantly. "You look like you need it, Denzel."

Denzel waved it away. "I'm fine. Besides, I have another one that I can use later if I really get hurt." Jason didn't look convinced. "If we have to run, you won't be able to keep up," Denzel added. "It will just slow us all down. Drink it."

Jason finally popped off the cap and swallowed down the potion. He sighed in relief and closed his eyes while he waited for the effects to work their way through his system.

"Uh, guys?" Jesse said from above them. "I think it figured out where we are."

Jason and Denzel both stood and looked down at the square. The beast was sniffing the air as it lumbered closer to the skybridge. It stopped directly in front of the bridge and eyed them hungrily.

It rose up on its hind legs, and Denzel suddenly realized that he might have underestimated its size. It may be able to reach them after all. He held out his sword over the top of the railing, quickly running through the options in his mind. Firaga was wide range and he now had to worry about the sides of the skybridge catching on fire. He wasn't sure he could safely use it. It would have to be fira. He could shoot it in a straight line and be sure not to hit anything he didn't want to. He would just have to hope it was strong enough to damage the thing.

He set his jaw, focused, and then swung down his sword over the side. A line of fire shot out from the end of the blade and zapped the monster. It reacted slightly, but it was such a small shot of fire for such a big beast. It shook off the blast and stood up all the way, swatting at the bridge.

All three boys yelped when his claw smashed into the center of the bridge. The floor of the bridge was made of wood, but the supports underneath it were made of metal, and it wouldn't easily break those. Denzel wasn't willing to bet that it couldn't break them though, so he braced his knees around the wooden spindles that stretched between the floor of the bridge and the railing. They felt pretty sturdy, so he put both hands on his sword and focused harder.

His beams of fire were doing little more than distracting the monster, but he kept at it because as long as it was distracted, it wouldn't take another swipe at the bridge.

He had actually been keeping track of his magic points this time and he knew he was getting low. He switched his sword to his left hand and reached into his pocket with his right.

"Ouch!" Denzel jerked his hand back and looked at the dot of blood growing on the end of his middle finger.

"What happened?" Jason asked. The twins were standing on either side of Denzel, watching him throwing the fire from the side of the bridge, but unable to do anything to help.

"I think I—" Denzel reached gingerly back into his pocket. He felt around carefully. Liquid and broken glass. He groaned. "That other Ether and hi-potion broke." The bottles in his right pocket had been cushioned by Ms. Joya's handkerchiefs, but the bottles in his left must have banged together and shattered while he was fighting.

Jesse and Jason looked panicked. "What does that mean, Denzel?"

For their sake, Denzel tried to look confident and self-assured, the way Cloud always did when things were spiraling out of his control. "It's fine," he said. "I can't cast for much longer, though." The twins knew nothing about materia and he wasn't going to take the time to explain it to them right then.

"What—what do we do?" Jesse stuttered. Apparently Denzel hadn't pulled off his imitation of Cloud.

Denzel tried to keep his breathing steady and even, his voice calm. "We're gonna need to run. I'll distract him with fire as long as I can while you two run off the far side of the bridge." They all grabbed the railing as another swipe made the bridge shudder.

"What about you?" Jesse asked. "How will you get down?"

"When you get far enough away," Denzel said, "you'll have to get its attention somehow."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Jesse pressed.

"I don't know!" Denzel said, holding on for another shudder. "Figure something out!"

He leaned over and sent another beam of fira. It hit him close to the eye, startling the beast back down onto all four legs.

Jason was suddenly very calm. "I'll be the bait. You two run."

"No way!" Jesse said, panicked.

"No one is going to be bait!" Denzel yelled. "We're all gonna get out of here. Ok? On three, I'm gonna start throwing fire like crazy and you guys run. Are you ready?"

"Denzel, there's something I have to tell you," Jason said urgently.

"Later," Denzel said irritably. "One….two…"

"No, you need to listen now!" Jason yelled.

Then they all heard the most beautiful sound. It was gunfire. The three boys looked across the square to see a familiar WRO vest, the soldier shooting fire bullets at the beast. It growled and turned to face the newest annoyance.

"It's Niko!" Denzel yelled.

"Come on, ugly," Niko taunted it as he walked backwards and continued shooting. "I have some very lovely tanks for you to meet out here where it's more ooooopeeeeen," he sang.

The next bullet hit the monster in the snout. It roared and crouched down in that universal ready-to-pounce stance. Niko's eyes grew wide and he turned and ran. The monster took a springing leap at their savior.

Denzel's overwhelming feeling of relief lasted for exactly half a second, which was how long it took him to realize that the monster's tail had flipped up and torn through the side of the skybridge. In another half second, it flipped back down, dragging the broken bridge down to create steep vertical slopes that flattened out next to the break.

Acting purely on instinct, he grabbed the wrists of both of his companions as they were tossed briefly in the air before they all slid down the steep incline that lead to the hole in the bridge. Denzel spread his legs wide, trying to catch them with the spindles that lined the walkway, but they were mainly decorative, preventing people from falling through but not meant to hold the plunging weight of three almost-grown young men.

He felt spindle after spindle snapping against the tops of his boots, but incredibly, their plunge was slowing. Finally, three sets of spindles before the gaping hole in the bridge, their movement stopped. The twins were both yelling, dangling off the edge. Only Denzel's boots and three pairs of delicate spindles kept them from plunging to the wreck of the square, far below.

Most of Denzel's body was still on the wood of the bridge. It reached about to his chest, where he clung desperately to the twins. They were still screaming. "Guys. Guys! Shut up!" Denzel yelled.

It was like a switch had been flipped. They fell instantly silent. The only noise was the distant echo of shooting and roaring, three sets of heavily breathing lungs, and the wind knocking one half-broken board against the bridge. Denzel thought the quiet might help him think, but it didn't. He couldn't think of a single idea to get them out of their predicament.

Jesse and Jason weren't going to be much help. They didn't seem to be able to move past the idea that they were experiencing the last few moments of their lives. All they could do was cling to the arm that prevented them from falling to their deaths.

"Ok," Denzel finally said, surprised at how calm he sounded. "I can't pull you guys up like this. I don't have any leverage and I can't support all of your weight with one arm. You're gonna have to pull yourselves up. Climb up my arm. Can you do that?"

Neither of the boys answered. "Jason!" he snapped. "Can you do that?" Jason had seemed the calmest of both before the bridge had snapped, and he had the added handicap of hanging on to Denzel's weaker left arm, which was already screaming under the strain.

Hearing his name seemed to snap him out of it. "I—I'll try. I'm not as strong as you, Denzel."

"You just have to be able to lift your own weight. Just like the climbing rope. Or maybe a pull-up." Denzel knew it wouldn't be that simple, but he hoped Jason wouldn't realize that. Their arms had been jerked and pulled and strained when they fell, and now they'd been hanging on them for a few minutes more. "It's just like gym class," he said soothingly. "You can do it."

Jason took a solidifying breath and adjusted his grip. Letting go of Denzel's arm with one shaking hand, he grabbed it again a few inches higher. Gripping it tighter, he let go with his other hand and shot it up a couple more inches.

Denzel was having trouble breathing. Their weight was pulling him against the slope of the bridge and the muscles in his shoulders ached with the strain, not to mention that his hands were losing circulation under their grips, but he tried not to let them hear him struggling. Jason was making progress. It would only be for a little longer.

*Snap* The two spindles against his boots lost their battle with their weight. All three of them screamed as they slid forward several more inches, until Denzel's boots caught on the next two spindles. The edge of the bridge now fell at Denzel's ribs.

Jason let out a quiet sob. "I can't do this, Denzel. Even if I were strong enough, there's no time. Those spindles can't hold all our weight." He stopped and added quietly, "but they could hold the weight of two for longer."

Denzel didn't know what to say. There was no physical way he was going to be able to pull them both on the bridge, and the weak spindles were a ticking time bomb waiting for them to find a solution. He kept his mouth shut. He wasn't going to admit that he was pretty sure that all three of them were experiencing their last sunset.

"Don't even think about it," Jesse seethed. "Don't you dare leave me!"

"I can save you two," Jason mused quietly, "or we can all die together. You know this can't hold us all."

"No! No way! I'll let go then!" Jesse cried.

"Jesse…you know why it has to be me."

"No! No, Jason! We'll find some other way!" Tears streaked down Jesse's face and dropped, sparkling in the fading sun all the way down to the wreckage below.

"When?" Jason's voice rose from his calm musing to anguish. "How much more blood on my hands before we can find another way? Nineteen last time, who knows how many this time…I can't have any more on my conscience."

*Snap* Two more pegs snapped. They all screamed and slid again. Denzel's boots caught on the next two spindles. He was bent at the waist now, adding the fun of the blood rushing to his head.

Jesse was sobbing in earnest now. "It's not your fault! You couldn't help it!"

Denzel adjusted his grip again, trying desperately to hang on to Jason with his weaker left arm. He wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

Jason smiled softly, completely calm now. "It doesn't matter. It has to stop."

"No, Jason, don't! Don't leave me!" Jesse screamed frantically.

Jason pulled in one last deep breath. "I love you, Jesse." And then he let go. Despite knowing that he was right, Denzel couldn't help himself from gripping his hand tighter. It didn't matter. His fingers alone couldn't hold him. Jason slipped away, closing his eyes as he fell.

The sound of Jesse's tortured scream would be with Denzel for a long time, but he forced himself to keep moving. With his left hand freed, he was able to reach back and grab the top left railing. He had a little more leverage to pull them both back up, but it wasn't enough. His arms were exhausted. His shoulders screamed in pain.

"Jesse! Jesse, listen to me! I'm really sorry about your brother, but you need to focus now. You need to climb up."

"No," Jesse sobbed. "It's not worth it, not without him. You don't understand, Denzel."

"Hey!" Denzel used his voice like a slap. It was harsh, but he didn't have time to be gentle. "You want to leave your dad alone? You want him to lose two sons? How do you think he'll deal with that?"

It seemed to get through. Jesse looked up and met his eyes. "What—what do I do?"

Denzel breathed a sigh of relief. "I have a little more leverage now. I'm going to try to pull you up high enough to reach this last board. If you can put enough of your weight on that board, I might be able to pull you the rest of the way. Do you understand?"

Jesse didn't seem to be entirely clearheaded yet, but he nodded hesitantly. "I understand."

"Ok, on the count of three," Denzel said, adjusting his grip on the railing. "Ready? One…two…three!"

Denzel used every remaining ounce of strength in his arms to pull Jesse up. As soon as it was in reach, Jesse grabbed the board. The remaining skybridge began bouncing violently. The board splintered and Jesse lost his grip, dropping back down. His weight jerked against Denzel's damaged arm one more time, and with an innocent sounding *pop* his shoulder joint popped out of its socket.

Denzel screamed.

"Oh god Denzel! Are you ok? What do I do?" Jesse yelled as the skybridge continued bouncing.

Denzel couldn't form a coherent thought. The pain was indescribable. Nothing else mattered, and now Jesse's grip was the only thing keeping him from plunging down to join his brother.

Jesse reached up with his free arm once more, latching on to the piece of board that had broken, but not completely disconnected from the skybridge. It wouldn't be strong enough to hold his weight, but it took some of the pressure from Denzel's shoulder.

"Jesse!" The cause of the bouncing became clear as Jameson's loafers stopped just short of the crumbling edge of the skybridge. "Jesse, hang on! I'll pull you up!" he yelled. The big man stretched out on his belly next to the part of Denzel still on the bridge, reaching both arms over the edge to grab his son's. He grabbed the wrist holding on to the broken wood and pulled, scooting himself backwards like a worm.

Gradually, the excruciating weight on Denzel's shoulder lessened. Jesse pulled himself up far enough to reach the railing and put his knee on the board. Jameson wrapped his arms around Jesse's chest and with one big heave, pulled him back to safety.

"Dad!" Jesse clung to his father, although for comfort instead of necessity now. "Dad…Jason…he…he fell and…"

"I know, son. I saw. I saw." His voice turned from sorrow to anger. "That boy. Cloud's boy, he let him fall." Jameson set his son aside and rose up on his knees above Denzel.

Denzel was helpless. With his left arm wrenched behind his back and his right too painful to even consider moving, he couldn't pull himself up any more than he could have lifted both of the twins with one arm.

"Dad, no!" Jesse yelled, pulling at his father's arm.

Jameson ignored his son. "You. You are an extension of him. He took away my Tifa. You took away my Jason." His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered to a growl. "Maybe he should know how it feels."

Denzel couldn't do anything but whimper.

"Dad! Stop, dad! He tried to save us. It wasn't Denzel's fault!" Jesse was pleading frantically, trying desperately to get his father's attention, but Jameson was advancing slowly on his knees, flexing his hands, preparing himself to do something terrible.

"Dad! You can't just kill someone! You'll go to jail and leave me all alone and…" Jesse's voice dissolved into incoherent crying.

Jameson blinked and looked back at his sobbing son. Sanity and reason filtered back into his eyes. He put his hand over his mouth. "Gods, what am I doing?" He crawled backwards to Denzel's feet and grabbed his ankles. "Help me, Jesse."

Jesse's arms were as tired as Denzel's and not nearly as strong to begin with, so he wasn't much help, but together the two of them dragged Denzel backwards until his whole body rested on the skybridge. He turned his head to the side to rest his cheek on the wood and tried to breathe normally. He didn't want to move. Everything hurt. Tears slid down his face and he didn't know why. Sorrow? Relief? Fear? Pain? All of the above? In the end, it really didn't matter. It was a release of everything that was tearing him up on the inside.

"Come on, son," Jameson said, trying to slide his hands under Denzel's shoulders. More heavy boots started the bridge bouncing and Denzel screamed as his shoulder bounced against the wood. Jameson pulled out his hands and held them up. "I was just trying to help him up, I swear," he said defensively.

Denzel understood why a moment later as those familiar boots filled his vision. Cloud knelt down next to him and placed one very warm hand on his head. "Hey buddy," he said softly. "You ok?"

It reminded him of the day Cloud had first found him, collapsed outside the church in sector 5. Back then, he had been a little boy tortured with the pain of Geostigma. He had come so far in those five years – he was stronger, more experienced, more secure and confident, but Cloud's voice was still a soothing balm to a lost little boy.

"I was just going to help him get down the bridge," Jameson said again. "I just touched his shoulder and he screamed."

"Go down and get to the town hall," Cloud said, and Denzel wondered if Jameson could hear the edge in his voice. He decided that he must have, since Jameson shut his mouth and left without further argument. He led Jesse back up the steep slope, pulling themselves up with the help of the railing, and down the steps on the unbroken side.

"Can you…cure me?" Denzel asked faintly. "I don't have enough magic points left…"

"Not yet," Cloud said softly. "You need to sit up."

"Mm mm." Denzel moaned, too exhausted to shake his head.

"Yeah. Come on," he said, sliding one arm under Denzel's left side. He slid his other arm under the right side by his ribs, carefully avoiding his shoulder and lifting him up by his torso.

Denzel whimpered only a little bit as Cloud pulled them both up the slope of the damaged part of the bridge. When they reached the undamaged part, he let Denzel sit back down against the spindles. He squatted in front of him and gingerly lifted his wrist, putting his other hand just above Denzel's elbow.

Denzel tensed and cried out. "Don't, Cloud, please."

Cloud rotated it and pulled it forward slightly. Denzel yelled again and he stopped. "Ok, I'm sorry. I'm just looking," he murmured, eyes focused on Denzel's shoulder. "You want to tell me what happened?"

He was just holding his arm then, so Denzel let out his breath and relaxed a bit. "I was helping people get to the town hall. Then I—"

Cloud jerked his arm hard and there was another explosion of excruciating pain. Denzel howled mindlessly again, but this time it was quickly replaced by that cool, soothing sensation. He was still shaking and sweaty by the time the pain subsided, though. He glared angrily at Cloud, who gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. It goes back in easier if you're not expecting it."

He stood and held out his hand. "Come on, I'll take you back to the town hall," he said as he pulled Denzel to his feet.

With all of his pain completely gone, it was hard to hold on to his anger. "Where are you going?" Denzel asked.

"There are still some monsters lurking around town. I just need to run through and clean them up."

"Then I'm coming, too," Denzel said stubbornly.

Cloud looked at him doubtfully as they descended the steps of the skybridge. "Are you sure you're up for it?"

Denzel scoffed. "I'm fine. I'm healed, and I've only had one Ether today."

"Yeah, but after an adrenaline rush like that—"

"Cloud," Denzel said shortly. "Isn't all battle a constant adrenaline rush? I'll be fine."

Cloud tried not to smile, and failed. "You sound just like Tifa."

"Well, Tifa usually knows what she's talking about," Denzel said smugly.

It was hard for Cloud to argue that logic. "Alright. You just…stay here for a minute. I'll get your sword."

Denzel glanced over at the rubble under the skybridge. He had dropped his sword when he had grabbed onto the twins' hands, so it would be buried somewhere in that mess. The problem was, Jason's body would be somewhere in that rubble too. As strong as Denzel felt at that moment, the idea of seeing his mangled friend made him sick.

He sat down on a broken slab of concrete and distracted himself from what Cloud was doing by surveying the ruins of the square. He thought of the picture he'd drawn. He couldn't remember all the details, but it didn't seem quite right. The one thing he remembered clearly was the monument in the center of the square. It had been broken all the way down to the wall from sector one at the base. The monument he saw now was damaged, but it still had identifiable segments from several different sectors.

One other detail came back to him then: the bodies. He had seen bodies scattered all over the square, and there were none right now. His stomach rolled as he remembered the sleeve of the orange polo shirt that Jason was wearing that day. Jason was in that picture, but the others weren't. Did that mean that he had changed the vision? Maybe by coming there, by being forewarned by the picture, he had saved those people. He clung to that bit of hope, dampening the sour taste from remembering Jason's dismembered arm.

Cloud returned with his sword then. It looked like he had wiped it clean somewhere, because it was noticeably free of gore. Denzel grasped the handle, but Cloud didn't immediately let it go. Their eyes met above the sword - dark blue to mako blue, and Denzel could actually read the swirling emotions there: pride, fear, worry, and love. Then he closed them for a moment. When he opened them, they were back to liquid steel. He was back in commander mode.

"Are you ready for this?" Cloud asked.

Denzel tightened his grip on the handle. "I'm ready."

Cloud released it. "Then let's do it together."