Authoress's Note: Shorter chapter, but you have to re-read it anyway. If you're reading this for the first time, have fun!

Chapter Two: To Embrace the Fact

"You know what's funny?"

"What? Your face?"

"Cloud. Seriously."

"Ok, what's funny?"

"The fact that I never imagined being friends with some one like you."

"…"

"Cloud?"

"I'd hardly call us friends."

"I'm serious, Cloud!"

"I know…"

"This kind of lifestyle is much better than life in the Organization. Even for a heartless Nobody like me…"

"…You're such a sap."

"Oh, shut up!"

Demyx whipped at the batter, mixing the ingredients to a thin, sauce-like liquid. He poured a bag of large chocolate chips in, finishing off the batter with a few quick spins of the spoon before pulling out the baking pan. He poured the batter on to the pan in large clumps scattered across it. With a smile of success, he threw the pan in to the oven to bake. He brushed off his hands and threw off his apron. With only thirty minutes or so to wait, he settled down in to one of the barstool chairs, spinning around, a frown adorning his features.

He hadn't meant to find out about Cloud's 'sickness'. The doctor just so happened to mention it while Demyx was in the room. It was quite obvious to Demyx that Cloud hadn't wanted him to know about it. And now that he knew, he couldn't get his blonde roommate out of his mind. He was worried to death, afraid that when he went home, Cloud would already be dead.

Making cookies cleared his mind, at least in the time span it took to make the batter. But… once it was in the oven, his thoughts were back on Cloud. He hoped he'd be ok. He hoped there was a cure. The doctor hadn't mentioned any type of medicine, hadn't subscribed anything.

What if there wasn't a cure?

He shook his head, ridding the thought that crossed his mind.

Demyx thought back to earlier that day when him and Cloud argued. In reality, him and Cloud didn't used to fight at all. In fact, when Demyx first met Cloud and was staying at his house, the two got along great. Maybe it's when Cloud grew sick they stopped getting along so well.

When was that? Demyx figured it was probably about two months before. When they had their first fight.

It was over the stupidest thing. Demyx hadn't done his part of the chores at the house, and Cloud flipped his lid, stalking out of the house with a slam of the front door.

In the six months they have lived together, Demyx had grown quite attached to Cloud. He feared ever living without the swordsman. It was a strange feeling, though he didn't feel anything. He remembers, faintly, what it was like to know that some one dear had a sickness, with possibly no cure. He remembers the sadness one has for this kind of knowledge. But that was all.

He wanted to cry for Cloud.

Yet, he couldn't. And he probably never will.

Ever…

"Cloud…" Demyx murmured, the name slipping past his lips smoothly, flawlessly, rolling off his tongue. He'd grown rather used to calling the blonde's name.

"What?"

With a shocked expression grazing his features, Demyx turned to the door. "Cloud! You, you shouldn't be out of bed! The doctor said--"

"I'm fine." Cloud stated simply. He tried to move forward, stumbled, and fell. In almost what seemed like a split second Demyx had jumped up, ran over to Cloud and caught him. They fell to the ground, Demyx grunting under the added weight on his upper torso. And for an unknown reason, Demyx's arms tightened around Cloud as they lay there, oblivious to the beeping of the oven in the background signaling the cookies were done. For the longest time they stayed in that position, so it seemed to them, though in reality, it may have only been a minute or two.

Demyx was slowly brought back to said reality and coughed, helping the other blonde up. "Ahem…"

"You going to get that?"

"Huh?" Demyx scratched the back of his neck, confused. "OH!" He shouted suddenly. He ran off to the back, some muffled shouts erupting. Cloud heard the oven close, followed by Demyx shouting 'ow' as he probably burnt his hand, before stumbling out of the kitchen and grabbing an oven mitt. He ran back in while slipping on the glove, coming back with the tray in hand.

"They're burnt." Cloud stated, his eyebrows raised.

"Only slightly." Demyx retorted. "Now, why aren't you still in bed?"

Cloud didn't reply. He walked forward and reached out, taking a cookie from the tray and taking a bite.

"Cloud?"

"Felt like eating a cookie."

"You just had one this morning! And you're sick, you need your rest!"

Cloud sat down with a sigh. "Whatever."

It was Demyx's turn to sigh and he retreated to the counter. "Don't blame me if you faint again."

"It's not your fault in the first place."

His eyebrows furrowed. "I'll kill him." And with that last statement, Demyx left the bakery.

Cloud closed his eyes, slowly chewing another bite of his cookie. He knew who Demyx was talking about. He feared, however, that the Nobody would do something both of them would regret.

Sephiroth…

Wait, he did not just leave his bakery… he needs to be working! Gah!

- - - - - - - -

"Ooh, who's that?"

"Hmm? Oh, that's Squall. He prefers to be called--"

"Hey, Squall!"

"--Leon."

Squall approached, his stormy gray eyes fixed on Demyx. A harsh frown formed on the thin line of his lips, his eyes flickering to Cloud. His brows narrowed. "What're you doing here? I had the impression that Sora finished you off."

Taken aback by the formality, Demyx was at a loss for words. "I, um… uh… escaped before he could?" More like a question than an answer, but he got it out none-the-less.

Squall coughed. "Right. Cloud?"

"Yeah?"

"He's staying with you, I presume?"

"Only so I can keep an eye on him."

Squall fell silent. He squeezed the bridge of his nose with his index finger and his thumb, removing them and casting a glance off to the side. "Whatever."

"I see where he gets it from." Demyx laughed.

"What?"

"Well, erm, Squall, Cloud says 'whatever' a lot. I now know that he gets it from you!"

All Cloud did was sigh with a shake of his head as Squall shrugged.

"So, friends?" Demyx asked, extending his hand.

Squall glanced at it skeptically. And he shook. "Sure."

- - - - - - -

Squall sat there, in his comfy little chair, elbows resting on the desk, chin resting on his clasped hands. His eyes were closed; he was weary from lack of sleep. His work in Ansem's study was steadily eating away at him. Dark circles had formed under placid eye lids, his skin paler than ever. His voice was gruff when he spoke, as he didn't talk much down in the study. Not like he talked much in the first place. Yuffie had bounded into the room upon few occasions, telling him he needed to take care of himself, get some sleep. He never left, and sometimes was caught sleeping by Aeris when she brought him some tea.

"You mean… you knew about his sickness!" Demyx stuttered, his eyes widened in shock that he was the only one who didn't know.

"Yes." Squall replied. "He didn't tell you?"

"No, of course not."

"I'm sure there's a reason. Perhaps he didn't want to worry you."

Demyx scoffed, crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms. "Sure."

Squall studied the man for a moment, then leaned forward a bit. "Listen, there's nothing you can do. There's no known cure that we know of, so the most Cloud can do is just deal with it for the meantime. And the most we can do is to be there for him."

"But… that's just not enough!"

"Well, it's going to have to be enough. Embrace the fact and deal with it. He's going to die and there's nothing you can do about it!" Squall's clenched fist slammed against the wooden desk, rattling the pictures hanging on the wall with the force. Demyx didn't look up, his gaze cast towards the ground.

In the softest voice he could muster up, he whispered, "But… I want to do something about it. He…" And even softer, "… can't die."

Squall leaned back, shocked. A man with no heart was capable of showing such emotions without even really knowing it. He had to jot that down in his notes. A pencil in his hand, he began furiously writing. "Amazing." He breathed.

"What's amazing?"

"You love him."

Love. I can't remember what it really feels like.

Is it… how I really am? Do I really hold such emotion towards Cloud?

I thought Nobodies were incapable of such feelings. We were hollow shells with nothing inside but the idea of hatred towards those who were whole.

So… why is it this way? Why does this hollow one feel so…

…whole?

"Demyx?"

Shaken from his thoughts, Demyx looked up, locking eyes with Squall. They stayed like for a while, seeming to converse through their eyes.

He spoke. "I don't know such a thing as love, Squall. I'm hollow."

"You know the feeling--"

"Not really." Demyx stood. "I can't remember what it feels like to love. Who knows, my past self was probably never in love, you know? I just…"

"Care for him?"

"…yeah."

Squall seemed satisfied, giving a half smile with a small nod. "Just don't do anything rash."

"Rash?"

With a chuckle, Squall explained. "Don't go off and try to defeat Him, Sephiroth. He's too strong for even Cloud to handle, so don't go off thinkin' you're gonna avenge him, you got it?"

A smile stretching across his lips, Demyx replied as he turned, "Got it."

end chapter two