A Son's Honor

"The...the tracks are wearing thin," Marcus gasped, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Denzel moved to stand beside of Marcus, nodding his head, aching to drink some water, but not. After four days stranded in the desert, and not knowing if they'd be rescued, they'd laid off on the water.

Now what few dusty tracks had been available before, were even thinner, more light and delicate. It was a good thing that Cloud had taught Denzel a thing or two about tracking, else they might not of made it this far.

"We're going to lose them," Denzel stated.

Marcus shook his head quickly, sweat raining down on the ground, "No...we're not."

It was hot, the morning sun bearing on their backs harshly. Denzel's leg was practically numb from pain. It made it harder to walk, and he had to watch each step carefully, his left leg seeming heavier, and it unbalanced him.

"We should stop–

"We can't stop," Denzel cut Marcus off, "If we stop, we'll lose them for sure."

If they hadn't been rescued already anyways.

Marcus starred at Denzel for a moment, sweat pouring into his eyes, "They'll have to rest too, Denzel, and more often, with more men."

Denzel studied him hard, moving to take another step, but his left knee gave out, and he went down, kneeling on the ground.

Marcus didn't say anything as Denzel recovered, standing slowly.

"I think there's a cave not to far up ahead, I saw it on the last outcrop. We should rest there, it'll protect us from the sun," Marcus said, slowly turning to face forward.

Denzel nodded his head, and began to move forward again behind Marcus.

It took them longer than it should have to reach the cave, with Denzel stumbling along behind Marcus. The pain had come back, the numbness wearing off when he realized they wouldn't be catching up. Denzel stumbled into the cool cave behind Marcus. It wasn't very big, shallow in the cliffs, and Marcus checked around the rocks for scorpions or snakes. When he saw it was clear, he sank down onto the dusty floor, relaxing up against the wall. He groaned, yanking out his water bottle, Denzel sliding down the cave wall across from him.

Marcus watched as Denzel rolled up his pants leg, examining the bandages, before pulling the pants back down.

"We'll get you something for that," Marcus stated, sipping his water.

Denzel met his gaze, merely nodding his head once.

"So, they'll help, right?" Tifa asked, apprehension lacing her voice.

"They've been helping Teef," Cloud replied, laying a hand gently on the side of her face.

Denzel, seventeen, watched through the window as he stood in the back yard, moonlight shining down eerily. He sighed, pressing his lips together as he turned away.

"I'm...just worried, that's all."

"I know, Tifa...I know. It's been two years, and I know..."

Tifa didn't reply, just sighed.

"War..." Cloud stated softly, "It's always there."

"I know."

The dim light on the ground disappeared as Tifa cut the lights off, and the two disappeared upstairs.

Denzel sighed again, shaking his head lightly. It'd been about four years since that explosion on the train, and the war wasn't getting any better. More rebels were appearing, but it was getting hard to distinguish the bad guy from the good guy.

The way Denzel figured it, the bad guy was the one who just wouldn't let everyone live in peace.

He tipped his head back, gazing up at the large moon, ripe in its light, craters marking the surface. He wondered, if it was possible, if people would fight over the moon. Probably, one day, when he was old, and space travel was common, they'd fight over it. They'd build things on it, large signs, buy property...but what was the point? Why couldn't they just let it be? Why couldn't they just let it beautiful, and live in peace?

He figured it was because that was too simple.

"You're going, aren't you?"

Denzel turned swiftly, stumbling at the sudden voice. It was Marlene. She was standing beside of the large oak tree, her hand resting on it lightly, eyes shining in the night with fear.

"Marlene, go home. Your dad's probably worried–

"You're going to join all those boys from the mines...who didn't go to school. You're going to drop out of school and go fight," she shook her head, "Tifa won't let you."

"Cloud will."

"No, he won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because he doesn't want you to leave!" Marlene shouted, her hand balling up into a fist.

Denzel shook his head sadly, "He's got his son now."

Marlene gripped her chest, the blow hitting her in the heart, "How can you say that?" she whispered harshly.

"Because it's true–

"That isn't true!" she spat furiously, "Yes! He does have a blood son now, but he still has you! He still wants you here! Tifa wants you here!" a little softer, "I want you here."

"I can't stay, Marlene."

"So you're saying my Papa doesn't count?" she asked, gesturing to her chest, "Because we aren't blood related? Are you saying that?"

Denzel winced at the tone to her voice. Hurt, betrayed, and in pain.

"You could die Denzel, you could be killed...don't you understand?"

"I do."

"You'll have to kill, Denzel. You'll...you'll have to kill someone."

"Cloud's done it."

Marlene shook her head in disbelief, "Is that what this is about? Cloud? Are you going off to play hero for him?"

Denzel's eyes went wide, startled that she actually said that.

"Are you hoping to win your right to be his son? Is that it?"

"Stop it, Marlene."

"No! You can't leave. It isn't fair," she shook her head, and Denzel noticed the way the moonlight reflected in her tears.

Tiny stars falling from her eyes.

The moon shouldn't cry.

"I have to Marlene," he stated softly, "It's more than winning some honor to be Cloud's son. Maybe your right, maybe that's part of it...but..." he looked away from her, "I have to protect the people I love. I can't let anyone be hurt...the battle, it's contained right now. But, if it were ever to reach Corel," he shook his head softly, "Then...it'd all be over. It'd destroy this peace that we have here, this little bubble of safety we've built. And maybe, if I go fight, I can keep it contained even more...so it'll never get here, so Tifa, Cloud, you and Barret can all live in peace. So...so Avery can grow up in peace, with parents that love him and won't have to fight anymore. Maybe we can end the fighting."

He stood there for a moment in silence, staring at the ground, waiting for her to say something. But she didn't, and he felt a cold fear set into his heart, fear that maybe she'd left him like that, bitter and angry with him.

Her head bumped softly up against his chest as she wrapped her arms loosely around him.

"Fine," her voice muted against his shirt, "Go...go and be a hero...but be careful, okay?"

"Okay," he replied, slowly wrapping his arms around her shaking form.

And it would be okay, he understood, because now that he had Marlene's permission, he knew he could leave.

The ring bumped solidly up against his chest when she pulled back slightly. He raised a hand, fingering it, like he always did when he got nervous. Cloud had given it to him so long ago, his fingers never quite growing into the large circle, so it remained dangling around his neck. Maybe...maybe when he would come back, it would fit.

Reaching up, he slipped the leather cord over his head, and dropped it around Marlene's. She looked up at him, shocked as he dropped his precious trinket around her neck.

"Denzel..."

"It's okay."

Denzel jerked roughly as he woke, the memory plaguing his mind. Why here? Why now? Of all the times for that memory to come...why now? He blinked, the empty feeling on his chest he'd gotten use to more present than ever. Two years, and the memory was still fresh in his mind, still hanging in his dreams.

Denzel rubbed the sleep from his eyes, taking a sip of water before realizing that Marcus was not in the cave. He sat up quickly, his leg protesting loudly, but ignored it. He limped to the cave opening, the sun casting a hazy orange over the desert.

"Marcus?" Denzel called.

Denzel darted back into the cave; Marcus' pack was gone.

He left...he left me...

Denzel couldn't really say he blamed the man; he was the one slowing their progress.

That was when he saw the note folded up, half of it sticking out from beneath a rock. Denzel lifted it carefully, eyes scanning it.

I'll be back, with help. Just stay here, Denzel. There's water and food in your pack. Just stay put, and I'll bring help.

I'm sorry.

-Marcus.

Denzel felt his heart freeze up in his chest, fear ebbing into his mind, it's cold fingers gripping at his mind.

"No," he whispered.

He was alone, and he was dying.

It hadn't taken Denzel long for him to get packed up to get out of the cave. He couldn't stay there now, and he wasn't sure if Marcus would be back. Hefting the heavy pack, he moved with precision down the rocky incline, following Marcus' tracks. If he walked long enough, he might be able to catch up with him.

Denzel walked straight through the night, never stopping, never drinking any water. It was one thing to be doomed, but he didn't want to be doomed alone. He needed that company, even if it was slightly awkward and unwanted at times.

He needed that, to stay sane.

He had stumbled over that last rock as the sun was rising, tripping and falling onto the ground. He groaned softly into the sand, wincing, before opening his eyes to wearily get up.

Blood.

He scrambled backwards, a new found strength in his exhausted limbs; he licked his parched lips as he studied the scene, breathing heavily, shock setting into his bones.

"What about your brother, Marcus?" he whispered softly.

Behind the sixth bend, on the fourth cliff, the remains of Marcus lay. His pack was gone, his uniform ransacked for any type of materials. His eyes were open, staring blankly out at the desert landscape, lips slightly parted in disbelief. It'd probably had been bandits.

There was a thing slit running across his neck, the blood coating the front of his shirt and neck dry.

Denzel stared in open disbelief, before finding the strength to lean over and shut Marcus' eyes softly. He stared down at the blood, mingled with the sand of the desert.

"Tifa!"

"I'm..." she hissed, "I'm okay...I think."

Blood was running from her arm, pooling on to the floor, swirling around in the spilt flour. It looked strange, the rivers of red running through a land of white.

The knife was still laying on the counter-top, blood coating it's outer rim. There was blood on the cutting board where a pile of half chopped carrots were laying. The bag of flour for the bread was lying on the ground from where Tifa had knocked it off with her elbow, after jumping back.

Cloud was fussing over her arm, but she swatted him with her hand, "I've...had worse...than-than this. I-I...it just...it just caught me off guard, that's all."

She pressed a dish towel into the shallow cut, sighing heavily.

"I'm sorry, I guess...I guess I should've waited till a better time."

"Denzel–

"No, it's my fault, Tifa. I'm sorry."

She looked at him with sympathy in her eyes, pain and loss, and shook her head softly.

"I'll go clean this up...I mean, I'll clean this up too, don't worry about it. I-I just need to bandage up this first," she gave a weak smile before walking away.

Cloud watched her back until she disappeared up the steps, concern in his eyes, before turning on Denzel.

His concern went to a harsh glare, before he shook his head firmly, "No, Denzel."

"But Cloud–

"No. That's final. You aren't fighting."

"Why not?"

"Because, Denzel, that isn't for you."

Denzel couldn't believe this, he shook his head lightly, "You can't be serious."

"I am serious, Denzel."

"That isn't fair!"

"It isn't fair? Denzel, this is serious...it isn't a game, it's war–

"I'm perfectly aware of what it is, Cloud!"

"No! You aren't Denzel, you aren't."

Denzel stepped back at the anger in Cloud's voice, at the way he shouted.

"You don't understand what's going to happen. You don't understand what you'll have to do, and what people will try to do to you. You don't understand that–

"If you got to fight, then why not me?!"

"That was different, Denzel! I didn't have a choice!"

Denzel took a step forward, anger seething in his veins, "Yes! Yes you did! You were the one that wanted to join SOLDIER! You were the one that wanted to do that! You–

"Stop it Denzel! You don't–

"–left of your own accord! You told me that! To protect the ones you love! And that's what I'm doing!"

Cloud's fist slammed down onto the counter top, "Do you know how many people died because of me? Do you, Denzel? Do you? Do you know how many people were killed just so that I could die? How many people I had to kill just to survive? How many families were left behind? All those people...Denzel," Cloud's voice became quiet, "It's not...it's not that I don't want you to protect your loved ones, it isn't that Denzel."

"Then what is it?" Denzel spat, anger still weighing his voice.

Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

"What is it, Cloud?" Denzel asked again.

"I don't want you to have something like that on your shoulders."

Denzel blinked, startled, "What?"

Cloud jerked his hand down, looking up to harshly connect his eyes with Denzel's, "I don't want you to regret what you did...I don't want you to feel guilty for deaths that you could've prevented, that you didn't have to cause. I don't want that to weigh on your shoulders."

Denzel swallowed, the sudden silence engulfing after that yelling fight. He could hear the soft cries of someone upstairs. At first he thought it was Avery, but then he heard a voice in the tears...

...Tifa's soft voice, "It'll be okay...shh, now, it's okay Avery."

Denzel shook his head, closing his eyes tightly, the image of Tifa crying over Avery in the nursery forming in his mind. He banged his fist on the counter much as Cloud did, guilt already overwhelming him.

Was it worth it? Is this the way Cloud felt? Deaths, that wasn't the only guilt he was talking about.

Sometimes...to protect the people you love, you have to leave them. Was he prepared to tear his family apart?

...his family...

Cloud, and Tifa, his little brother now...Avery...was that how it went? Was he really their son now? The bond Marlene and Barret shared, wasn't it different? Marlene...she didn't even know her parents...but him, he had. He could still remember them, and it wasn't like he went around calling Cloud 'Papa'. That would just be weird.

He looked up, surprised. Cloud had moved towards the doorway, gripping the frame tightly with one hand, not facing him.

He sighed deeply, "It's something I have to do Cloud. It's something I need to do..."

Cloud tensed for a moment, his knuckles turning white, before nodding his head once, and releasing the frame slowly to walk upstairs.

A/N: Sorry it's so late! I had to work all day! Thanks for all the reviews! Love ya!