[Final Fantasy VII] Few and Far Between
Title: Few and Far Between (the days when your best is good enough)
Author: devotfeige
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII Compilation
Warning(s): None; post-Advent Children
Pairing(s): Tifa->Cloud + Denzel
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine
Notes: This is my broken OTP, where nothing works and nothing ever will. I am completely infatuated with it.
"Hey," Denzel spoke up to break the silence after Barret and Marlene had taken their leave, the latter promising to visit every day, "I didn't think about it until now, but it's kind of like before..."
Tifa glanced over questioningly.
"In Midgar," he continued, "it was always just the three of us; me, mom, and--"
The terse way in which Cloud's back seemed to straighten in response to his words gave him pause, voice dying in his throat. He looked away, ashamed, as the blond excused himself without a word, leaving Denzel and Tifa alone.
Tifa sighed quietly before moving to stand herself, reaching over to place a hand on Denzel's shoulder.
"...I said something I shouldn't have, didn't I?" he mumbled tentatively, once he was convinced she wasn't leaving as well.
She chuckled in response, letting her free hand come to rest on his opposite shoulder and pulling the boy back from his seat into a loose hug. "I don't think so," she assured him, "I do think he might've just realized what a big responsibility the role he's in is, though."
Denzel frowned, looking away again. "I didn't mean..."
"I know," Tifa smiled, patting his shoulder while her eyes drifted toward the hall Cloud had disappeared to, "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try our best anyway, right?"
Denzel's frown deepened momentarily.
"...that would be kind of weird," he spoke up after a moment, catching Tifa's attention again. "You two don't act anything like a mom and a dad."
She could only laugh, given the truth to be found in such a simple observation.
Eventually, she'd told herself, the sharp edge that accompanied that thought would fade, allowing her the luxury of finding humor in the situation. It hadn't, though-- not yet. Maybe not ever, she thought, sitting at the foot of her bed that night as she listened carefully for the sounds of Cloud and Denzel's wishes of goodnight, wary of any lasting unease from the day's incident. Though she couldn't make out the words, she listened as a hushed conversation ran its course, ending with a quiet laugh from the boy that eased what remained of the tension in her shoulders.
They were family, in the grand scheme of things. Maybe not the type of family she had ever dreamed of having or come to expect, but family just the same.
Why, then, was that thought so far from comforting?
"...Tifa?"
She glanced up to find Cloud standing in the doorway, leaving her feeling vulnerable and embarassed for having lost track of her surroundings so thoroughly. At the same time, seeing the carefully guarded look of concern upon the other's face only brought the crux of the issue back to the forefront of her mind.
"Nothing's really changed, has it?" she spoke suddenly, surprising herself. Once she'd started, though, she found it impossible to stop, "This is it. This is the best we can do."
She faltered momentarily, catching a glimpse of comprehension in blue-green eyes that was quickly obscured by an impassive glance toward the corner of the room. Anger and hurt and betrayal all seemed to well up and bottom out in her heart all at once, too aware that they had no place in this. Tifa wrapped her arms around herself protectively, closing her eyes as she turned away.
"You and me and Denzel... the three of us," she recalled, distantly. "But there is no 'us', is there? Just... us. Individually."
"Tifa--"
She shook her head, feeling suddenly weak and pitiful for letting something she had grown so used to get to her in such a way-- whatever their dysfunctional family unit was at face value, it was more than she'd had in some number of years, and she should have been grateful to share it with both someone she cared about more than anyone in the world and a boy she'd grown to love and care for as though he were her own blood after all...
It was impossible to tell if the arms around her shoulders felt more like the weight of the world being added to or lifted from her burdens-- either way, she leaned heavily into the embrace, refusing to let the tears that stung her eyes fall until the words that followed: "I'm sorry."
Because after everything was said and done it was still the truth, wasn't it?
She turned to bury her face against his chest, fingers digging into the fabric of his clothing, and let herself wish for all her worth--just once--that this might last. Cloud held her close until she'd finally given in to sleep.
By morning, he was gone.
Family was family, Tifa decided, eying the hastily-scribbled note Denzel had left behind explaining that he'd been 'volunteered' to help with the day's deliveries. Whatever form it took, their best was all that they could do.
That would just have to be enough.
Author: devotfeige
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII Compilation
Warning(s): None; post-Advent Children
Pairing(s): Tifa->Cloud + Denzel
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine
Notes: This is my broken OTP, where nothing works and nothing ever will. I am completely infatuated with it.
"Hey," Denzel spoke up to break the silence after Barret and Marlene had taken their leave, the latter promising to visit every day, "I didn't think about it until now, but it's kind of like before..."
Tifa glanced over questioningly.
"In Midgar," he continued, "it was always just the three of us; me, mom, and--"
The terse way in which Cloud's back seemed to straighten in response to his words gave him pause, voice dying in his throat. He looked away, ashamed, as the blond excused himself without a word, leaving Denzel and Tifa alone.
Tifa sighed quietly before moving to stand herself, reaching over to place a hand on Denzel's shoulder.
"...I said something I shouldn't have, didn't I?" he mumbled tentatively, once he was convinced she wasn't leaving as well.
She chuckled in response, letting her free hand come to rest on his opposite shoulder and pulling the boy back from his seat into a loose hug. "I don't think so," she assured him, "I do think he might've just realized what a big responsibility the role he's in is, though."
Denzel frowned, looking away again. "I didn't mean..."
"I know," Tifa smiled, patting his shoulder while her eyes drifted toward the hall Cloud had disappeared to, "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try our best anyway, right?"
Denzel's frown deepened momentarily.
"...that would be kind of weird," he spoke up after a moment, catching Tifa's attention again. "You two don't act anything like a mom and a dad."
She could only laugh, given the truth to be found in such a simple observation.
Eventually, she'd told herself, the sharp edge that accompanied that thought would fade, allowing her the luxury of finding humor in the situation. It hadn't, though-- not yet. Maybe not ever, she thought, sitting at the foot of her bed that night as she listened carefully for the sounds of Cloud and Denzel's wishes of goodnight, wary of any lasting unease from the day's incident. Though she couldn't make out the words, she listened as a hushed conversation ran its course, ending with a quiet laugh from the boy that eased what remained of the tension in her shoulders.
They were family, in the grand scheme of things. Maybe not the type of family she had ever dreamed of having or come to expect, but family just the same.
Why, then, was that thought so far from comforting?
"...Tifa?"
She glanced up to find Cloud standing in the doorway, leaving her feeling vulnerable and embarassed for having lost track of her surroundings so thoroughly. At the same time, seeing the carefully guarded look of concern upon the other's face only brought the crux of the issue back to the forefront of her mind.
"Nothing's really changed, has it?" she spoke suddenly, surprising herself. Once she'd started, though, she found it impossible to stop, "This is it. This is the best we can do."
She faltered momentarily, catching a glimpse of comprehension in blue-green eyes that was quickly obscured by an impassive glance toward the corner of the room. Anger and hurt and betrayal all seemed to well up and bottom out in her heart all at once, too aware that they had no place in this. Tifa wrapped her arms around herself protectively, closing her eyes as she turned away.
"You and me and Denzel... the three of us," she recalled, distantly. "But there is no 'us', is there? Just... us. Individually."
"Tifa--"
She shook her head, feeling suddenly weak and pitiful for letting something she had grown so used to get to her in such a way-- whatever their dysfunctional family unit was at face value, it was more than she'd had in some number of years, and she should have been grateful to share it with both someone she cared about more than anyone in the world and a boy she'd grown to love and care for as though he were her own blood after all...
It was impossible to tell if the arms around her shoulders felt more like the weight of the world being added to or lifted from her burdens-- either way, she leaned heavily into the embrace, refusing to let the tears that stung her eyes fall until the words that followed: "I'm sorry."
Because after everything was said and done it was still the truth, wasn't it?
She turned to bury her face against his chest, fingers digging into the fabric of his clothing, and let herself wish for all her worth--just once--that this might last. Cloud held her close until she'd finally given in to sleep.
By morning, he was gone.
Family was family, Tifa decided, eying the hastily-scribbled note Denzel had left behind explaining that he'd been 'volunteered' to help with the day's deliveries. Whatever form it took, their best was all that they could do.
That would just have to be enough.