A/N: Sorry for the extra-long and very unintentional hiatus. Lots of real life going on, and it always insists on interfering with creativity...

Chapter Summary: There is a problem at school, and for the first time Cloud has to handle it, since Tifa can't leave the bar. But the situation reminds him forcefully of his own childhood, leaving him wondering if he should step in or step back...

Jealousy, Take 16

Ivy Elise Tanté

Infuriated, Cloud Strife stalked to the entrance of the school in Edge, anger radiating from him even as fear twisted his stomach into knots. Reaching for the handle on the double doors, he caught sight of his reflection and the shock of it stopped him instantly. His Mako-tainted eyes were glowing fiery blue, his face pale and set in an expression that would frighten just about anyone crossing his path.

For just the briefest of seconds, Cloud saw something akin to Sephiroth in his own face.

Closing his eyes, he forced himself to take a deep and calming breath. When his hands were no longer shaking, he again reached for the door handle and quietly entered the building. Inside was cool and slightly dim, with only the quiet murmur of voices in the distance marring the silence. The momentary serenity of the place made him grateful for his decision to leave the Fusion Sword with Fenrir.

The sound of his boots on the tiled floor echoed back faintly as he turned to the right and approached the main office. As he walked in, the receptionist standing at the counter looked up from her work and gave him a gentle smile. Matronly, a bit stout, with flowing white hair and no-nonsense glasses sliding down her nose, Ms. Mobley greeted her expected visitor with, "Principle Gammons will be with you in just a minute, Mr. Strife."

"How is he?" Cloud asked, trying to relax, but his anxieties over Denzel keep returning.

It wasn't unusual to get a call about Marlene - the girl believed in giving to others in need, and Cloud and Tifa had taken to leaving some gil with her homeroom teacher to allow her to 'treat' friends who didn't have anything to eat for lunch without starving herself. When that fund was short, the teacher would leave them a brief message.

This was the first time a call was about a disciplinary issue. Ordinarily Tifa would be the one to respond - which made perfect sense, as her temperament was far more serene than Cloud's. But she was short-handed at the bar today and couldn't get away until later. It was happenstance that he was even in Edge right at that moment.

"Just a few bumps and bruises. I think he's more afraid of the consequences than the fight itself," was the soothing reply. Ms. Mobley pushed her glasses up her nose and nodded toward the man walking out of a room behind Cloud. "Mr. Gammons, may I introduce you to Cloud Strife?"

The principle reached out a hand to Cloud, giving it a firm shake as they sized each other up. The man was probably in his sixties; tall and lean and fit, his dark skin quite a contrast to his gray hair. "If you'll come with me, I'll take you to Denzel." Together, they headed out of the office and down the left corridor. After passing a number of gray lockers, Gammons motioned to the right.

"Ms. Mobley said he was just a little bruised up," Cloud said quietly as they walked down a short hallway.

Looking amused, the principle commented, "Officially, I do not condone students fighting on school grounds under any circumstances, and will take whatever punitive actions are necessary to ensure it rarely happens. That said; I have to reluctantly admit I was impressed. Denzel's opponent is three years older and nearly twice his size, but he stopped him from harassing another student without serious harm to either of them."

They stopped in front of the door marked 'Infirmary'. "And how is the student that was being harassed?" Cloud asked.

The mild manner left Gammons as a subdued fury showed in his dark brown eyes. "She was slammed against a locker, and the impact bruised her badly all the way across her shoulder blades." He shook his head, sorrow replacing the anger. "I want so badly to kick that kid's backside - he's been in several fights this year already. But when I called his mother about the situation, she told me, and I'm quoting here, 'I'll get around to picking up the little shit when I feel like it'. With that kind of attitude, how can I really blame the boy?" The man suddenly looked so tired.

Not knowing what to say, Cloud opened the door and walked in. The furnishings were simple and unadorned, leaving the room feeling stark and vaguely cold. Denzel huddled in a corner with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a bruise showing under his right eye. The flyaway hair was in disarray, one knee of his khaki's torn.

The nurse in charge nodded to him and Gammons, then the two left the room to allow Cloud to talk privately with Denzel. The first thing Cloud did was to equip a Restore Materia and cast Cure. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Y-Yeah," Denzel stuttered out, head hanging as he studied the tips of his scuffed tennis shoes.

Settling himself on the floor beside the chair, Cloud patiently waited until Denzel worked up the courage to look at him. When the boy did, Cloud gave a soft smile and gently finger-combed the spikes out of the brown hair. "I'm not mad at you, Denzel. I got into so many fights as a kid that I really don't have any right to lecture to you."

That was a surprise to Denzel. "Really? Why?"

"I'm not sure. I think part of it was anger, part fear. There was just so much inside me and I didn't know how to deal with any of it. So I picked fights and usually came home bloodied and bruised. My poor mom didn't know what to do with me." Cloud gave a shrug, "So I'm not going to fuss at you over this, especially since you did it to try to help someone else. I will ask why you didn't tell any of the teachers about the situation before you jumped in, though."

Cloud's manner was so calm and understanding that Denzel started to relax. "I looked, but there weren't any around. Steve's really careful about that, never doing anything in front of the teachers, always waiting until their backs are turned. Shirl is new here, and she's just so tiny, dad." Nervous fingers plucked at the tear in his uniform pants. "The bad thing is I don't think he really meant to hurt her. When she hit the locker and fell he seemed stunned. But I was already leaping at him, and we ended up going down in a heap." He touched where the bruise had been, "I hit his elbow when I landed so he wasn't even responsible for that."

Rising, Cloud warned, "I'm not going to punish you for this, Denzel, and I'll give Tifa my reasons for it. But I'm not going to argue with the principle over the three day suspension either." When his son winced, Cloud smiled grimly, "No matter the situation, fighting in school has to be discouraged at every opportunity. I don't blame you for what you did, in fact I'm proud that you defended another student, but even in the heat of the moment you knew there would be repercussions."

Looking up into his father's eyes, Denzel said quietly, "Yes, sir."

Hesitating just a moment, Cloud finally asked, "What can you tell me about this Steve?"

Denzel stood up and started folding the blanket the nurse had given him. "He's years ahead of me. The only thing I really know is he's a bully that picks on the younger kids." Glancing up, he asked, "Did you pick on kids smaller than you?"

His laugh echoed about the room as Cloud admitted, "Denzel, I think I was the smallest kid in the whole region."

Grinning slyly, Denzel commented, "Kind of like an ankle-biting Chihuahua,huh?"

And the humor sparkling in the glowing blue eyes seemed to light up the whole room. "Asking for it, aren't you?" Still smiling, Cloud told him, "Wait here for a minute, okay? I'm going to talk to the principle just a moment, and then we'll head home. I've got an idea to keep you out of Tifa's clutches during your suspension."

That he was joking was evident even to Denzel. In all probability, Tifa would take the same philosophical view as Cloud, believing that the suspension was punishment enough to a kid that loved going to school.

Leaving the room, Cloud shut the door quietly behind him and stood thinking over the situation for long moments. Finally he motioned to Gammons. "Is there any way I can talk to Steve for a minute?"

The request was obviously a surprise to the principle, but he nodded and warned, "I'll have to remain in the room, though, standing in for his absent guardian. Do you object to that?"

"No. I've…" and Cloud paused just a second to gather his thoughts. "I've got this towering reputation that intimidates nearly everyone I come into contact with. I want to talk to him, not scare him."

Gammons seemed disturbed by this assumption. "You're doing yourself a grave injustice, thinking like that. I've never met you before but find your presence quiet and calm, nearly soothing. There's power in you; even I can sense it. But I have an impression of the rigid control you exert over it, and that makes me feel comfortable around you."

Taken aback by the honestly in his assessment, Cloud could only nod.

Satisfied he'd made his point, Gammons led Cloud out of the hallway and down another short corridor. "He's really not saying anything, particularly after I told him his mom was… um… delayed. We tried to treat his bruises, but like Denzel he refused." Opening the door, he walked in and said in a gentle tone, "Steve, I'd like to introduce you to Cloud Strife. He is Denzel's father." Something in the kid's startled eyes made him add, "Since your mom isn't here, and won't be coming for a while, we both wanted to speak with you. Would you mind if we sat down?"

Steve looked to be in his early teens, stocky in build with tousled blonde hair and gray eyes. Though his clothes were dusty and torn like Denzel's from the fight, they looked far more worn and ragged. His expression was sullen, almost sulky. But the look in his eyes held fear even though he made a gesture toward the chairs near him.

Ignoring the hard wooden chairs, Cloud walked over to squat on his heels by the boy. Re-equipping the Restore Materia, he cast Cure and watched as Steve relaxed somewhat as the healing green light cascaded over him. "Better?" Cloud asked, concerned he might be in more pain than anyone thought.

"Yeah." The word cracked slightly.

Squirming slightly, unsure how to begin, Cloud finally spoke. "I understand your mom can't come get you right now."

Looking away, Steve muttered, "Probably wait until school's out. She don't like to be bothered with me much."

Though the matter-of-fact answer broke his heart, Cloud asked evenly, "Does your father feel the same way?"

"Ain't seen him in years."

That simple statement, said without bitterness or anger, had both men clearing their throats in empathy. Taking a deep breath, wondering if he was the right one to try and reach this kid, Cloud said, "Look at me, Steve."

The boy obediently turned to stare at him in wonder. "Are you really the one that fought Sephiroth?"

"A number of times, yes. Why were you picking on Shirl? What did she do to make you hurt her?" Cloud's gaze was focused and direct, so much so that Steve's eyes dropped to the floor.

The tears were unexpected. "Don't know," he finally whispered. A hand rose to clutch at his shirt as he admitted, "She laughed and - it hurt something inside. She bounced around, so happy... it made me mad. So I pushed her, and she hit the locker so hard… she fell. I'm sorry it made her cry. Then your kid smashed into me and something snapped." The hand lowered to his side, making both men realize the boy had likely cracked a rib during the scuffle.

"Does it still hurt?" Cloud asked at once, readying the Restore Materia again.

"No," Steve said, motioning with his other hand. "Whatever you did stopped the pain. Thank you." That last comment was said so hesitantly.

"You're welcome," Cloud assured him, then asked a question he was afraid to hear the answer for. "What's going to happen when you get home?"

The boy flinched. "She'll yell and scream, then probably lock me in my room 'cause I'm suspended." Looking down at his hands, he reminded, "She don't like to be bothered with me."

Very gently, Cloud touched the boy's cheek enough to turn his head. "Will she hit you?"

Both men were startled when Steve laughed and shook his head, "No, hate takes too much energy."

Mr. Gammons looked like he was about to explode over such callous neglect, but Cloud held up a hand. "You're sorry you hurt Shirl like that?" When the kid nodded, Cloud pulled out his phone and offered it to Steve. "Call your mother and ask if I can take you home with me and Denzel for dinner. I'll bring you to her when you've eaten."

There was disbelief in his eyes even though he accepted the phone. "Really?" he finally asked.

Cloud nodded.

Dialing the number, Steve nervously waited for his mom to answer. When she did, both Cloud and the principle could hear the aggravated tone in her voice as she rattled on for nearly a minute. Steve quietly repeated Cloud's request once she wound down. It came as no surprise when the boy held out the phone and said, "She has to speak to you."

Taking his phone back, Cloud said before answering her, "I wasn't told your last name."

"Oh, it's Akashi," Steve replied.

"Ms. Akashi," he greeted.

"What in the hell do you want with my stupid, pissant son?"

Something inside Cloud hardened, though his voice remained quiet. "I would like the chance to get to know him."

"Why? He's nothing more than a waste of money to me. He's got no respect for anything."

"And that would be because of your attitude toward him. If you make him think he's worthless, then he will be worthless and disrespectful."

"Huh. Think you can do better than me? Go ahead, try it. Then you'll see he's just as I said."

"Or I'll prove you wrong."

It was the challenging tone that brought the bitter woman up short. "Well, you are Cloud Strife. Miracles seem to be your specialty. Maybe all I see when I look at him is his no-account father." There was a moment of reflection before she admitted, "Maybe I never tried to look further than that. If he wants to go with you, it's fine with me."

"I'm taking Denzel camping to keep him out of his mother's sight during the suspension. Will you object if I invite Steve to come along?"

Steve's head whipped around to stare at Cloud in absolute astonishment. There was hope shining through the sullen expression as he clasped both hands in front of him, as though praying.

"No, I guess not. I'll pack a bag for him if he decides to go."

"I'll come by for it later this afternoon. It will be good to meet you, Ms. Akashi."

"Huh. If you say so. Goodbye, Mr. Strife."

Hanging up, Cloud rose and said, "I'll go suggest this to Denzel, see what he says. If he's all right including you, do you want to go?"

Steve struggled over the invitation for a minute before asking in a beseeching tone, "Can I apologize to Shirl first?"

Cloud nodded toward Mr. Gammons, who seemed speechless over the sudden turn of events, "He's the one that might be able to arrange that."

Blinking, the principle gathered himself and rose to his feet. "I'll make a call, since Shirl's parents have already picked her up." Tilting his head to the side, he said almost to himself, "And you think your mere presence frightens people?"

Gently patting Steve's shoulder, Cloud assured him, "I'll be right back."

Once out of the room, Cloud leaned on the wall and took a deep breath before retracing his steps to the infirmary, where Denzel was waiting just outside the door.

"Is he... okay, dad?" Denzel asked as he took the hand Cloud held out to him.

Because he preferred to look his children in the eyes when speaking to them, Cloud knelt and told him honestly, "I think you might have cracked a rib when you tackled him." Seeing the distress in his eyes, he hastened to assure his son, "I used the Restore on him as well, and he didn't seem to be in any pain after that. Denzel, I invited him to dinner. Listening to him, speaking to his mom, I don't think he gets any attention. There's no father in the picture and his mother seems so bitter and self-absorbed. I think he needs a friend. I don't know if you can forgive him or not, but I believe it would do him a world of good just to have someone to talk to."

Denzel stood and shuffled his feet before saying, "Dad, you can't save everyone."

The warmth and humor that lit Cloud's eyes had the boy smiling, "I do know that, kid. But it doesn't take a lot of effort to reach out a hand now and again. After speaking with him, he asked if he could apologize to Shirl. He wanted to do that right off, without any suggestion from me or Mr. Gammons."

The surprise in Denzel's expression turned to speculation as he considered the situation.

Tapping the upturned nose, Cloud continued to speak. "We're going camping, you and I, for the whole three days you're suspended. You might think it's a reward," he cautioned when Denzel's eyes went wide, "but we'll see how you feel after setting up camp, gathering firewood and washing the dishes by hand in a stream - not the dishwasher."

Denzel might not be Cloud's biological son, but he had absorbed a gene or two from the ex-SOLDIER over the years. "Huh." His gaze was carefully calculating as he asked, "Any chance Steve could be dragged along with us? It seems only fair he be made to do manual labor as well."

"And two pairs of hands will make the work go faster?" Cloud guessed with a grin.

"Seems only fair," Denzel repeated, trying to look earnestly helpful. The look failed so badly Cloud ended up on his butt in the corridor, laughing his head off. "I'll take that as a yes, then," Denzel deduced with satisfaction. "So, where is my newest partner-in-crime?"

"Mr. Gammons is arranging a call between him and Shirl's parents. The principle will bring him down when that's finished. Sure about this?" Cloud asked.

Denzel shrugged, "If you could turn out all right, I guess anything is possible."

Though he moved fast, Cloud still caught him, and the silence of the corridor was shattered by laughter as his father tickled him unmercifully while muttering under his breath, "Wise guy, huh?"