CHAPTER 25: FLOATING ON
"Hyah!" Tifa cried.
Her voice rang out across the plains only to be swept away into the gentle breeze. AVALANCHE was making their way back toward Midgar and planned to stop in Kalm on the way. It was well into the sunny, pleasant morning. Tifa had packed up her gear hours before everyone else so that she could sneak away to warm up her joints and muscles by practicing a kata. Half a mile from camp, she concentrated her body and spirit in a long forgotten morning ritual.
The realization that Master Zangan was still alive had helped to erupt the embers of her struggling heart into vibrant, lasting flames of resolve. He was alive, she was alive, and there would be nothing to hold her back from her potential anymore. As a small bead of sweat rolled lazily down her temple, Tifa pondered exactly how many years had passed since she and her tutor had practiced their katas together in the meadow. They used to meet at the first rays of the sun each morning, moving together like a synchronized dance of discipline and aggressive grace. How dear those lessons had been to her. At first, they'd been a way for her to occupy her grieving little heart with an activity that she might use one day to protect her loved ones. But as the years passed, her lonely soul had soaked in Master Zangan's kindness like a dry sponge. He satisfied her overwhelming need for fatherly instruction and companionship. Tifa took a moment to be thankful that the universe had given her both a mother and father figure to look to when her biological parents were not available.
Abbreviated puffs of air accentuated her movements as she jabbed twice before following up with a right hook. Clenching her abdominal muscles, Tifa readied herself for two knee strikes and a push kick. The kanku sho kata was her very favorite, for it was one of her final hurtles to graduating from her discipleship and making her master proud.
Her body felt so good.
She remembered how difficult it had been to get back into shape after pregnancy and the stillbirth. The inspiration to join AVALANCHE and bring purpose back to her life had motivated her to rediscover her physical strength, and for a time she'd focused on rebuilding muscles that had wasted away. Now, Tifa felt that same thrill she had experienced then. Never in her life had she used her martial arts as much as she had in the past few months and while she was often sore from endless battles, she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so agile and energetic. Tifa was certain that it was more than just the exercise. Her spirit hadn't felt this light since the early days of her childhood! It was empowering to know that she was using the things that Master Zangan taught her for good, but the overwhelming elation that came from working out her issues with Cloud (and with herself) was simply intoxicating.
Large, puffy clouds drifted lazily across the sky, occasionally covering the sun. Muscles clenched, Tifa let out one more 'hyah!' as she completed her kata. With a merry sigh, she uncurled her fists and flopped backward onto the plush grass to watch the white clouds roll by. How wonderful it was to rediscover herself and her purpose and to feel forgiven for her sins and misguided ways. And, for the first time in so very long, to feel free. At first, she'd felt quite silly, for the things that had once weighed her down could have only done so with her permission. The strength to find liberty had been within her all along—she just lacked the courage to grasp it.
It was times like these that she thought of Aerith. She imagined that if she were here, she'd throw her arms up to the sky and rejoice in the warmth of the sun. The thought made her smile as she gazed upward. It seemed like years since she'd heard the voice of her dear friend, since so much had happened since the Cetra had left them. How much time had passed since she twirled and danced in the freedom of the open plains after their escape from Midgar?
As the sky arched above her like a beautiful painting, she sighed as she caught her breath from her exercise.
Automatically, her mind submitted to an old game of childhood she'd frequently played with her mother. Red eyes scanned the heavens for shapes in the clouds, smiling at the fond memories that came blooming into her consciousness. They'd lain side by side—just like this—laughing over who could come up with the silliest shapes, setting their imaginations loose with ivory paint on the cerulean canvas above. The grass had tickled her ears then exactly as it did now and Tifa sighed in contentment, recalling how Mama's slender arm would reach upward to trace the clouds with her pointer finger.
The happiness of those days called out like an alluring siren's song to Tifa. While the thought of letting herself long for those days was tempting, she'd already fruitlessly chased echoes of the past for much too long. It seemed that so many of her daily thoughts revolved around the dead. For years and years, she'd wallowed around in suffering as she lamented the terrible pain of loss, wasting the gift of life that she'd been given. How much time she'd allowed to flow away from her! Death and hardship had much more to offer than travail alone. Now that Tifa could see that reality clearly and plainly, she was ashamed for how narrow minded she had once been. Instead of being completely occupied by sorrow, she should have opened her eyes to all the lessons that life was trying to teach her. But it wasn't too late.
As a young girl, Tifa had pictured her mother as almost super-human. Somehow, Mama knew all the answers to her questions and could fix just about any issue that happened to arise. She used to look at her with fierce admiration and awe, similar to the way Marlene regarded her. Rarely had Tifa chosen to reluctantly admit that although her child was no longer alive, she was still a mother.
Without thinking, Tifa let one index finger trail over her lower abdomen, remembering fondly the little bump that used to be there. She used to wonder what her baby's face looked like or what her little voice sounded like and in the end, she had only received the answer to one of these questions. But what was it like to watch your baby grow up? Was it hard to stand by as they slowly outgrew their need for you? Her heart cried out at the thought of Marlene no longer asking to go for walks or sing songs with her. The bittersweet reality of motherhood was something that she rarely wanted to think about, for it seemed simply unbearable sometimes. Watching a child mature to be an independent, secure, well-rounded person was the dream of all parents, wasn't it? So why did it make her so sad?
The thought of her mother looking down upon her from heaven was enough to make her eyes fill with tears. Was Mama watching over her? Was it her guiding hand that kept Tifa safe through all of her hardships and troubles? There was a gentle whisper in the wind as it caressed her cheek, like the comfort of her mother's soft palm.
I'll always be with you.
At the memory of Mama's words, Tifa felt tears stream out of the corner of her eyes and soak into her hair. She expected the words to push her to dissolve into despair, but instead, a smile spread across her face. How blessed she was to have experienced that love. How wonderful it was to know that no matter where she was or what trials she faced, her mother was right there with her.
Tifa sat up, scrubbing at her eyes with the back of her hands. She didn't have to feel sad or lonesome, because every kind word and caring gesture Mama had given to her was always there in her heart. Looking out across the plain, she watched as hundreds of tiny white flowers bobbed and swayed in the breeze. Aria died, but that doesn't mean that she and Cloud would never go on to have any other children. It would be scary to try again and put themselves at risk for the same heartbreak, but she didn't think she could ever give up on her dream of having a family if Cloud was still willing.
The grass brushed at her legs as she stood, still looking up at the sky.
"Help me to move, Mama," she said quietly, closing her eyes. "Help me keep going—to see and do what is needed for my husband, for my friends and for myself."
Every lesson that her mother had taught her seemed to revolve around how precious life was. The handful of years they'd spent together shown Tifa that expressing gentleness did not mean a person lacked strength, and a joyful person could still harbor great pain. There were things one saw with their heart instead of their eyes and there was immense beauty in the small things. Now that she was grown, she wished more than ever that she could have just one more conversation with Mama. Tifa yearned for her wisdom and to share their stories about relying on faith to guide them through life's trials. There were probably many things she didn't know about her mother.
But there would be time for that later. One day, when it was her time to meet her in heaven, they'll have an eternity to spend together. Until then, Tifa would carry on with a smile.
"I'll live strong. I promise."
The rolling plains were mostly sparse of tree cover or bramble, but a not too far away was a lonesome maple tree that had grown in an awkward fashion. Its trunk seemed to have grown out from between a split boulder at the top of a gentle hill, the tangle of branches reaching up to grasp at the sun. Tifa thought that if she climbed the trunk, she might be able to see Kalm in the distance, so she jogged over to it. Seemingly boundless energy rushed through her from a source unknown. Had it been her previous dismal attitude that had rendered her so listless?
She let out a short laugh in between foot falls, marveling over how much could change with one seemingly small action. Time was too short to waste it wallowing in misery and fear!
A certain childish glee pumped through Tifa's veins with each thrum of her heart as she scrambled up the tree trunk and took in the vibrant blue expanse. Sleepy little Kalm sat in the distance, the red roofs of the buildings looking tiny and indistinct. Far beyond it, like a black speck on the horizon, was Midgar—their destination. Seeing it made a dark cloud threaten to rain over her mood, but she shook it away with a flick of her wrist through her black hair. There was too much opportunity in front of her to surrender to such feelings, and it was completely overwhelming in the most pleasant of ways. Tifa hadn't realized that the maple tree, the sky and the world could be this beautiful. How long had she walked around with her eyes fixed on the ground? She'd had no room in her life to enjoy such things.
The tiny, tickling feet of an ant startled her as it crawled from the bark onto her hand. How very delicate and fragile it was, yet it fearlessly clamored on with its duties. The insect made its way down her pinky and back onto the tree, unbothered by the obstacle she had been. Crickets were chirping in the course grasses below. Bees hummed over the foliage in search of pollen. A little spider spun its web in the branches above her head. They didn't know what tomorrow would bring, nor did they fret over it; they were alive today and that was enough.
Tifa was alive for one more day and was so glad to be.
She wasn't afraid to feel, nor was she afraid to fall. There was no longer a paralyzing fear that held her back; it had been replaced by the rapturous need to move on from this way of life. Of course, Tifa had no idea how all of this would end, but it didn't matter anymore. How could you know how far you've come if you didn't know exactly where you've been? Those dark, empty days were behind her forever and nothing could steal the light from her eyes.
"Tifa!"
The call was faint in the prairie wind. Hanging onto a tree branch with her left hand, she spun to look behind her. Making his way through the grasses and wild weeds was Cloud, his black clothes making him stick out like a sore thumb in the pastel coloration of the plains. His flaxen hair, however, danced in the wind like the little yellow flowers that dotted the ground like a thousand lemon drops upon the earth. There was a puzzled look upon his features as he scanned his surroundings for her. His furrowed brow and big blue eyes were so charming, making her heart swell at the sight of her beloved.
It briefly occurred to her that this march toward Midgar was not so different from the first time they'd traveled to the city together, full of determination and hope. The experience of breaking apart, coming back together, and navigating the emotional fallout afterward had helped her discover that marriage worked best if they weren't hyper focused on each other. Once they set their sights upon what they could accomplish for others and the importance of their personal goals, everything seemed to fall nicely into place. For now, the urgent need to protect the planet from Sephiroth and the meteor kept them from over-analyzing their flaws and shortcomings, lending them a sense of satisfaction in the simple fact that they were on the same team. As long as they didn't forget that again, everything would be alright.
"Hey, Cloud!" Tifa called, waving her free hand. "Over here!"
He turned at the sound of her voice. The wind swept across the open plains, grass bending with its gentle force like ripples on a pond. Cloud's face instantly brightened with relief when he spotted her. There was hope in those shining blue eyes and joy in his smile, and Tifa felt warm all over at the sight. It made her remember how they'd run through life hand in hand toward the promise of a better future. She'd missed those hopes and dreams and wanted to reach for them once again. The two of them had let their faith and courage shrivel and die for a time. But like the tiny buds on a tree at winter's end, there was a promising glimpse of life in their spirits once again just waiting to bloom.
The sun returned from its retreat behind a billowing, white cloud and Tifa squinted against the bright light as her husband jogged toward her. His buster sword bounced against his back, occasionally reflecting the sun's rays. She couldn't help but muse over how miraculous it was that many years ago, Cloud had grown breathless merely from playing together in the yard. His mother would've beamed with joy to see how healthy and strong he'd grown: both in body and in spirit.
She'd stopped watching him like he'd disappear again.
They'd beaten the odds before, she and Cloud. They'd done things and broken boundaries that no one back in Nibelheim ever thought they could. Their bond and their marriage bound them together as a couple, but since they'd first learned of the little life growing in her womb she'd thought of them as a family. Tifa supposed that any family she and Cloud could form together would have to adapt and navigate to life's changes and struggles like any other family would, leaning on the knowledge that things would be alright if they'd stick together. At least, that's what she assumed normal families did. Hers had been broken since she was so small that she scarcely remembered what Papa was like when Mama was alive. She didn't recall much quarreling or hardship; if there was some she didn't know about it.
The departure of one family member had turned her life into something unrecognizable. For so long, Tifa assumed that it was nearly impossible for a family to function if one member were to leave unexpectedly. Cloud's father died and it had negatively affected the Strife family's daily life and reputation in Nibelheim. Her mother's passing devastated her little family beyond repair. When Aria died, the debilitating aftermath almost kept her from rebuilding her relationship with her husband. But now, as Cloud came to a halt underneath the shade of the tree, she was starting to understand that things needn't be that way.
They could create a clear vision of their future and cling to it. They had the power to form new dreams and build them up with all their strength. There's nothing you can't do if you throw yourself into it with all of your being.
Panting through his grin, Cloud looked up at her.
"The others are coming," he said, catching his breath as the breeze shuffled softly through his hair. "We're leaving for Kalm now. I brought your backpack."
"Thanks!"
She caught the movement of the others out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to regard them. There was a chaotic beauty to it all, the way their small group flowed together from place to place. Before, it was times like these when they feel the heaviness of their losses—when there weren't many monsters to fight or other distractions. But now, there was laugher echoing from the direction of their friends as they joked and conversed. Tifa supposed it was strange considering the seriousness of their goal and the ever present meteor burning red in the heavens, but she was proud that in spite of it all, they refused to give up on happiness.
They were all floating on.
"Catch me!" Tifa laughed, crouching on the branch.
Amused, and a little confused, Cloud held out his arms. "Alright, go ahead!"
One...
Two...
Three!
… … …
"Papa! Tifa!"
She'd seen them coming from down the street. It seemed that she'd been playing in the front yard when they'd caught her eye and she bounced over to the squat picket fence around the lawn's perimeter. Tifa smiled, because Marlene had always possessed the eyes of a hawk, which made many aspects of life interesting and a bit comical. The sound of her voice almost brought tears to Tifa's eyes, but she blinked them away and broke into a run toward the girl. Upon reaching the fence, she bent over it to scoop Marlene up, not bothering to go through the gate in her haste to hold her.
"Marlene! Oh, Marlene!" Tifa cried, burying her face into the child's chestnut hair. "How I've missed you!"
The way the little one wrapped her arms around Tifa's neck made the woman sigh with adoration and relief. Marlene was safe and thriving, and she was so, so thankful for that. Pressing kiss after kiss against her head, Tifa squeezed the girl against her until she heard that squealing laugh that her heart had been longing to hear.
"Uh oh," Marlene said, pulling back and showing Tifa her soil-covered palms. "I got your shirt dirty."
The white cotton of her top was smeared with little hand prints and her motherly heart cherished them. As a small child, Tifa had the freedom to make mistakes and messes in the name of fun, freedom and learning. Mama would always let her enjoy her exploration of the world before teaching her how to clean up after herself. But once she took over the Lockhart household duties, she was forced to become a perfectionist if she wanted to avoid Papa's harsh admonishment. Tifa wanted Marlene to enjoy this particular liberty for as long as possible.
"That's okay, sweetheart," Tifa said before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "They'll be my good luck charms."
"Where's my baby girl at?" Barret said in a bellowing laugh.
"Papa! Papa!" Marlene squeaked, practically vibrating with excitement in Tifa's arms. Her little failing arms reached out as Barret moved in to scoop her up.
"Look at'chu! Playin' out in the sun," he grinned as he rubbed the pad of his thumb across her dirty cheek. "Boy, are you filthy! Was my little flower plantin' flowers?"
The group had been so absorbed in Marlene's presence that they didn't notice Elmyra, who had been sitting in a chair on the front porch. She stood immediately with her eyebrows drawn together in worry until she recognized just who it was that had come to visit her young charge.
"Oh, it's you guys!" Elmyra greeted as she made her way down the porch steps and onto the lawn. She wiped her hands on the worn apron covering her green dress. "I was the one planting the flowers. Welcome!"
It struck Cloud just how peculiar it was that someone was doing something as menial as planting flowers when Gaia's fate hung in the balance. The meteor loomed overhead, tinting the sky with a touch of red even at midday. How could anyone just relax and tend to their hobbies like everything was under control? For him, every day was a struggle against his confidence. Would he really be able to lead AVALANCHE to victory? Did he really have what it took to stop Sephiroth and somehow dispel the meteor?
Marlene had squirmed her way out of Barret's arms. Cloud watched her intently as she ran back and forth collecting her playthings to show her father. A shovel and pail, a little plastic horse and wooden blocks were all fetched and shoved into her Papa's large hands. Her brown hair was pulled into lopsided pigtails that bounced with her dress as she ran to and fro. The enormous grin upon her face pushed up into her pink, round cheeks. Her big brown eyes were shining with unbridled joy and it both warmed his heart and made it ache terribly, for Cloud couldn't help but wish to see those beautiful cinnamon colored eyes of his own little girl.
Would she have liked her sandy colored hair pulled back or would she have preferred to let it spill over her little shoulders? What toys would Aria have preferred to play with? Would she enjoy getting her hands dirty like Marlene or would she have been fastidious and clean? The sound of the little girl's breathless laugh was almost too much for Cloud, and he couldn't help but turn his face away as she skidded to a halt in front of Barret.
"Are these new friends?" Elmyra asked, gesturing toward the others.
"New friends?" Marlene echoed. Her eyes widened as she finally realized that it wasn't just Tifa and Barret that had come to visit. Suddenly shy, she hid behind her Papa's leg, peering at the strangers with one skeptical eye.
Tifa crouched beside the girl. "Yes, this is Cid, Yuffie, Vincent and Nanaki."
Marlene put her index finger in her mouth as she watched the newcomers carefully, then quickly took it out again once she tasted the dirt upon it. She pressed her face against the back of Barret's knee when Cid tried to smile at her with a cigarette between his teeth, only to have it look like a grimace. Her curiosity about Vincent and his flowing red cape could only be surpassed by the wonderous sight of Nanaki and his flaming tail. But in the end, it was Yuffie's enthusiastic waving that earned a nervous smile from the little girl.
"You remember Cloud," Tifa said softly, placing her hand on Marlene's head. "Right?"
In that moment, a wave of something like embarrassment or shame washed over Cloud. He felt heat rising to his face when the child turned her face upward to look at him, her expression contemplative as she took in his features. Cloud had only been in Marlene's presence for a brief handful of weeks, most of which he had spent bed-bound as he recovered in Seventh Heaven. When they had interacted, he made certain that it was brief, and the girl usually was more than happy to look away when met with his glowering countenance. Back then, it would've been impossible for him to admit to himself that the reason kept Marlene at arm's length with his unfriendly behavior was because he was angry. He was angry at the unfairness that she was there and his own daughter was not.
Now that Cloud's mind was clear once again, wisdom could override his immaturity and jealousy. When they'd first met, he remembered how quickly Marlene's presence annoyed him. The way she needed constant assistance and reassurance made him impatient, and he was irked by the way she'd pout or whine in childish fashion when she wanted something that Tifa or Barret weren't willing to give. Why had it only occurred to him now that adults are not so different from children? It always seemed that they also always wanted what they couldn't have. Cloud was so ashamed of the way he'd acted during those confusing, tense days following his recovery; his behavior had been so far from who he'd been raised to be. Yes, the trauma from his captivity and torture (combined with the effect of mako poisoning on his body) was to blame for his desperate confusion, pain and moodiness, but he didn't feel like he could let himself off the hook for his belligerence.
"I remember," Marlene almost whispered.
She frowned at him in a thoughtful manner, as if she was analyzing the blonde, and Cloud couldn't help but feel intimidated by the scrutiny of a pure heart. Surely, a soul as untainted as Marlene's could see just how crooked and undeserving he was of her forgiveness or approval. Despite that thought, he wanted her to know that he hadn't really meant to push her away. Cloud loved this little girl; not only for the joy she brought to Tifa's life, but for the optimism and happiness she possessed despite her world being so dark and lacking. Like he and his wife, Marlene was an orphan whose original home had burned to the ground. For the most part, she'd been raised in the dirty, crime-ridden Midgar slums as her guardians tried their best to afford a lackluster education or a second-hand pair of shoes for her tiny feet. But despite that, she was rarely anything other than content. Perhaps, one day, he'd adopt that same mindset and glean the wisdom that it had to offer. Her soul was so resilient, and he loved Marlene's indomitable spirit.
Feeling uncertain, Cloud tried his best to smile at the girl, but sorrow and regret chased it from his lips. There was a moment or two of silence before Marlene let go of Barret's leg, running toward him without warning. He didn't know what to do, but she did. She collided with his legs, spreading her arms out as wide as possible in an attempt to hug them. Taken aback, Cloud hesitated before crouching to her level.
"I'm sorry, Marlene," Cloud apologized, leaning back to search for her eyes. "I wasn't very friendly to you before, but I'm feeling better now."
"It's alright," she said in a nonchalant manner.
She moved to place her arms around his middle, instead, and the press of her small body against his sent warmth spreading through his chest. Almost automatically, Cloud returned her embrace. He pressed his head gently against the crown of hers, and it felt as if his entire body was softening in an exhale of great relief. After a moment, the girl leaned back and looked into his face once more.
She patted Cloud's head with her tiny hand, a bright smile spreading from cheek to cheek. "I just want you to feel happy."
And just like that, he was forgiven. Cloud almost didn't know how to process her reaction, for his childhood had taught him to expect immediate, lifelong judgement and scorn. Truly, there was nothing quite as healing as a child's soul.
… … …
It had been a dreamy afternoon, filled with things that were so normal that it was so incredibly satisfying to Tifa's heart. She'd helped Elmyra cook a meal for AVALANCHE and even baked a cake with Marlene for dessert. It was easy to put aside her fear of what would happen when they traveled to Midgar to confront Hojo the following day when she did the things that made her feel happy and secure: cooking, playing with Marlene and spending time with her husband and friends.
Typically, Marlene would let out a disappointed sigh when it was time for her bath (since that meant it was almost time for bed). But today, she raced up to the top of the stairs with Tifa hot on her heels, arms extended in a threat to tickle her if she was caught. Little bare feet quickly padded toward the bedroom she'd now called her own in the tiny cottage and burst through the door with a happy squeal. Tifa followed, slowing her feet to stare at the surroundings. Back in Seventh Heaven, Marlene's room had been littered with her drawings, which were displayed proudly on the wall, bedframe and door with scotch tape. Here, there wasn't a single one on display. Her crayons used to be some of the girl's most prized possessions, but it seemed that she scarcely had time for her art anymore. Atop the chest of drawers were some miniature stockings with grass stains and tiny tears at the knees.
A funny feeling filled her heart as Tifa realized that for the first time in her young life, Marlene had the freedom to act as a normal child. The thought both relieved and shamed her. While she and Barret had done their best for their charge in the Midgar slums, they couldn't provide her with this basic need for sunlight and nature. When this mess of a journey was all over, they'd have to re-establish themselves someplace where they weren't hidden away from the sky.
"Uh oh," Marlene said softly, regaining Tifa's attention.
She had fetched her sleep dress and was clutching it against her chest, looking down at where a scrape on her knee had left a crimson stain on the hem of her pinafore.
"Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm just sad that I stained my pinny."
"Come on, let's get cleaned up."
The little girl led her to the cramped bathroom and carefully placed her night dress on the closed lid of the toilet seat. Tifa watched as she went into the cupboard to take out a yellow towel and a small plastic basket of bath toys. Fastidiously, she placed the towel atop her nightdress (making sure it was still folded) and the basket on the wide ledge of the porcelain tub before pulling the faucet handle and drawing water into the tub. Marlene had always been quite independent for her age, but Tifa was astonished at how little she was needed. It was only a handful of months ago that she'd last given Marlene a bath, but in that short period of time it seemed that she'd outgrown their evening ritual.
"Look at you! Do you take baths by yourself now?"
"No," Marlene said as Tifa helped her undress. "Miss Elmyra plays with me and keeps me company."
Once the water reached an appropriate level, she shut off the tap and climbed into the bath on her own. Automatically, Tifa reached for the shampoo bottle and cup to rinse her hair with, but the child insisted that she could do it herself. And so, there was little more she could do than watch Marlene scrub her hair into a rich lather. The fact that the kid still managed to maintain a somewhat 'normal' daily life despite all that had happened was miraculous. While Tifa was glad, she couldn't help but feel the sting of jealousy and sorrow, for it seemed that Marlene was just as happy staying with Aerith's mother as she did staying at Seventh Heaven. It was ridiculous to feel this way, she knew, for she'd had a special bond with Marlene since her babyhood. But the years of yearning to have meaning and acceptance in her father's eyes had trained her to seek approval and value from others; while Tifa knew better, it was a hard habit to break.
"Wheee!" Marlene squeaked as she dumped a cup of water over her head.
Tifa smiled at her simplicity. It was admirable how children seemed to strive to be happy, no matter their circumstance. This little girl had lost two homes, was separated from her adoptive father and mother figure, had relocated to a foreign place and saw the constant threat of the approaching meteor in the sky, yet she lived in the moment and enjoyed the small things to the fullest. Of all the lessons that Marlene had taught Tifa over the years, this one seemed to resonate with her most. She'd always been so worried about the future; too preoccupied with looking into the horizon that she missed all of the beauty and simple pleasures to be found just before her.
It wasn't the first time she made up her mind to be more like Marlene, and it wouldn't be the last.
She watched as the girl slid the washcloth over her skin, and her heart both lamented and praised her independence. It was a heavy thing to realize that so much time had passed since Marlene was a helpless infant in her arms and that there were so many things she'd never have the chance to do with her again. There was rarely any warning before the 'last times'. The midnight feedings and snuggles ended abruptly when the baby began to sleep through the night, the last time she held the infant's hunched body over her shoulder and burped her after a bottle or even the last time she changed a diaper were gradual changes that came to a sudden, bittersweet end.
Now, she could add helping Marlene bathe to that list.
It was unbearable to think that there would be a last time that she'd reach for Tifa to pick her up, that there would be a last bedtime story and a final goodnight kiss. She smiled sadly as Marlene used the washcloth to clean the bottoms of her feet, wavering as she tried to balance on her rear. Is this how a mother feels? This precious child had made her realize that babies are born to walk away from you. How sad it was to know that one day, Marlene would prefer to spend time with her friends over helping Tifa cook or try on her shirts as they folded laundry. But while their relationship would change, it didn't necessarily mean that they'd grow distant—would it? Oh, how much they'd needed each other when they first met. It had been easy for her wounded heart to adopt the girl as her own after Aria died, but Tifa actively fought the desire to view Marlene as a daughter. But was that really the best thing to do? While Barret's little girl didn't call her 'mom', she looked to her as a mother in almost every way and it felt so right.
Marlene had been taken from her mother by death and given to Tifa through fate. In the same way, death had taken Aria and delivered her little soul to her waiting grandparents in the Lifestream. For the first time, Tifa was starting to realize that her baby wasn't gone forever—merely separated from her for a time. One day, when it was her time, she'd meet her daughter again.
For a time, they played together with Marlene's handful of toys and splashed each other until Tifa's hair was almost as soaked as the child's. Letting out a hum of contentment, Tifa drained the water in the tub and wrapped her dear little friend in a towel cocoon. She set Marlene in her lap and began to dry her hair with the towel, making her laugh when she scrubbed her head in a rough and playful fashion. In the small window beside the sink, the evening sky had begun to grow dark with the setting of the sun and approaching storm clouds, but neither of them noticed until a low rumble of thunder sounded. Immediately, Marlene's face snapped upward, eyes wide with fear. When she heard the hard slapping sound of rain against the roof, her little face disappeared into Tifa's chest.
"The scary storm is back!" she squeaked, voice weak with worry.
The older girl was taken aback, for rarely had they ever encountered many things that frightened Marlene. Many children were afraid of thunderstorms, but Marlene had endured the loud ruckus each night in Seventh Heaven, the constant backfiring of rickety vehicles in the Midgar slums and the roar of her father's voice when he lost his temper. Never had she expressed fear in the face of any loud, booming thing in her world. Frowning, Tifa wracked her brain. Was it the memory of the terrifying, crashing sound of the Sector Seven plate that made her afraid? Or perhaps, it was simply the fact that the poor thing wasn't yet accustomed to something as simple and natural as weather. In the slums, temperatures would seasonally change. Runoff from precipitation would drip through any cracks or open areas in the upper plate, making it appear to 'rain' or 'snow' in some places. But it had only just occurred to Tifa that to someone who had only known the slums as home, witnessing storms in all their glory against the expanse of the sky must be quite overwhelming.
"It's alright," Tifa cooed, squeezing her tight. "I used to get scared of storms when I was small like you."
"Really?"
"Oh, yes," she reminisced, closing her eyes and resting her cheek atop Marlene's round little head. "But then I realized that the rain falls on the trees and the grass and helps them grow. It falls on rivers, streams and ponds and gives us water to drink. Without it, everything would dry up. The rain gives us the beautiful world we'll see in the morning."
Slowly, the girl turned her head to peek at the window. "It keeps the grass alive? And Miss Elmyra's flowers?"
"That's right," Tifa affirmed, placing a kiss to her brow. With a small sigh, she also looked toward the window in time to catch a flash of lightning. "Rain is just a part of life. The sun will always come back out, even if it takes a while."
The girl snuggled in closely, curling her legs up to her chest in Tifa's lap. Her baby was growing up, yet somehow knew how to make herself seem very small. It was easy to pull Marlene closer still, wrapping her arms tightly around the damp towel that covered the set of tiny shoulders. Tifa had held Marlene to her chest hundreds of times, but she'd only had the chance to hold Aria in her arms once. The heartache of that separation would probably never leave her, but that was alright. She'd been her baby's only home. In the womb, the sound of her heartbeat and voice lulled Aria to sleep and the sugar she ate made the little one dance. With these experiences in her heart, not even death separated them, and Tifa smiled as she cherished Marlene's small weight against her.
"Come on, let's put on your night dress before you catch a cold."
She tugged it over the girl's head and Marlene happily put her arms through the sleeves. Tifa picked her up and placed her on her hip as they moved toward the window. Lightning danced across the sky periodically, making them 'ooh' and 'ahh' in unison. But it wasn't long before the eerie red glow of the meteor caught Marlene's attention and she pointed in its direction, pressing her little finger against the glass.
"Are the clouds red because of the big rock in the sky?"
"Yeah…but me and your Papa are going to make it go away. That's why we brought all of our friends with us. We're on our way to Midgar to try and fix things."
Alarmed, Marlene's head swung around to look her in the face and Tifa knew she'd made a mistake. Out of respect, she almost always told Marlene the truth. There was no way she could've led the girl to think that they'd be staying before they snuck off, but perhaps she should've let Barret break the news to her.
"You're leaving again? You can't go!"
"Marl—"
"What if you get hurt? What if you don't come back this time?" she cried. Fear and sorrow were painted across her features and it pained Tifa to know that she'd put it there. "I want to stay with you and Papa! Please?"
"It's not safe. You need to stay with Miss Elmyra for a little while longer, ok?" she pleaded quietly. "I promise that we're coming back again! It's alright."
But the little girl didn't seem comforted by her words. Her light kept dimming, gradually fading from her face, like a lightbulb flickering, before tears began to form in her eyes. She squirmed out of Tifa's arms and bolted out of the bathroom door, her little cries following her clumsy steps down the stairs.
"No! No! Papa, you can't go!"
Concerned, Tifa slowly followed as she made her way down into the living room. Barret, who had been sitting in the armchair, sat forward in alarm and caught his daughter in his arms. It was easy to forget just how much trauma Marlene had been through, since she was typically full of optimism and seemed as carefree as any normal four year old. So when that fear and insecurity manifested in her behavior, it sent a tingling feeling of guilt crawling upwards into Tifa's throat. She and Barret shared the responsibility of protecting her: both physically and mentally, and there were so many times where she couldn't help but question if they were doing the right thing.
Marlene's situation was anything but typical, but Tifa supposed that parents in a 'normal' familial structure still faced the same sort of woes. Caring for this small person and helping her develop into a kind, confident adult would always be challenging, even if they were able to provide a better environment for the kid. She smiled as she stood gripping the banister, watching as Barret held Marlene close and spoke to her softly. Maybe, what they had to give was enough for that treasured little girl. A pretty home with a big yard and ample toys would be nice. But it seemed that their hearts was what Marlene was looking for and that was something they'd always give without restraint.
… … …
It took a few hours for Marlene to fall asleep. She'd refused to go to sleep in her bed as she did everything she could to convince Barret to tell her one more story or sing one more song. Despite her declaration to stay up all night long, she fell asleep around eleven o'clock against her father's chest. There were only two bedrooms in the cottage, so AVALANCHE decided that Barret would share one with Marlene, Elmyra would stay in her own room and Cloud and Tifa would each sleep on a couch. The others were happy to rent rooms in the inn if it meant they'd each have their own comfortable bed to sleep in after days of camping or sleeping on the hard mattresses inside the cabin of the Highwind.
The house was quiet now that the others had left and Elmyra had retired for the night. Cloud was seated next to his wife on the couch, an arm protectively wrapped around her as they discussed their plans for the next day. Lately, the blonde had felt sort of sheepish whenever he spoke with Barret. Since the first time he'd met the man, he'd been so hostile to him. Now that he was feeling like himself again, Cloud was ashamed of his less than kind behavior toward someone whom he actually was indebted to. With Tifa around, things weren't too awkward. But when she announced she was going to take a shower before getting ready to sleep, Cloud felt a wave of anxiety wash over him at the thought of being alone with the gunman.
When she ascended the stairs and disappeared from sight, his pulse began to quicken and he felt heat creeping up his neck. There was so much he needed to tell Barret, including several apologies, but guilt and embarrassment threatened to keep his lips sealed. Cloud cleared his throat quietly, leaning forward and folding his hands in his lap. It got the older man's attention and he lifted an eyebrow in response.
"Barret," Cloud said quietly. He decided it was best to be straightforward instead of beating around the bush. "I wanted to apologize to you."
"For bein' a jerk?"
"Heh, yeah," Cloud snorted, a nervous smile spreading across his face. "And for being hostile in general. I'm not like that—I wasn't myself and now I'm ashamed of that ugly behavior."
Still bashful, he stole a glance in Barret's direction and watched as he stroked the back of Marlene's head with his wide palm.
"S'alright. I knew you was messed up from th'start."
"I don't blame you. I was covered in dirt, starving and sick."
"Nah, I knew it when you opened yo'mouth."
At this, Cloud couldn't help but chuckle. Aside from Cid, Barret had the foulest mouth around! But he was right—Cloud had been snippy, selfish and negative since they'd met. What the man really deserved was gratitude.
"It's long overdue, but I wanted to thank you for helping my wife," he said, running his fingers through his unruly hair. "It kills me to know that I couldn't be there for her and I hate myself for it. I'm so grateful that you gave her a place to stay when she needed it."
Barret's voice was usually booming and commanding. Now that he was trying not to wake the girl on his chest, the softness of his voice betrayed a side to him that Cloud hadn't experienced before.
"No need t'thank me. Marlene and I needed someone t'look after us as much as she needed a roof over her head an' food in that scrawny body."
"It wasn't just shelter." Cloud shifted, widening his knees so that he could hunch forward. "I think the friendship you offered and the sense of purpose Marlene gave were what really saved her in the end. Thank you."
Barret looked at him analytically, which always made the younger man uncomfortable.
He let out a rush of air through his nostrils. "Tifa an' Marlene…they're jus' kids that had t'grow up too damn fast. Now I can see that you didn't escape it, either. It's not an excuse for you bein' a jerk, but it still sucks."
Life had always been hard. Since Cloud was born he'd been struggling through the arduous path that had been carved out for him by fate and misfortune. If he wasn't fighting physical weakness, he was wishing that the bullies at school would leave him alone. The never ending cycle of seasons provided endless physical labor for Cloud and his mother as they struggled to survive on her meager income. He tried with everything he had to get to Midgar, to get a job, to marry Tifa, to support his wife and unborn child. Every step had been harrowing. For so many years, he'd looked around as more fortunate people seemed to skate effortlessly through the days and wondered if he was meant to live or if he survived this long out of pure luck.
How long had he been searching for meaning in his existence? In all of his conscious time on this planet, Cloud couldn't help but wonder if he was ever meant to be more than a struggling peasant with a head full of dreams. But how did one measure success? When he'd married Tifa, he felt that he found purpose in his marriage and place in his wife's heart. She needed his provision and protection, and was the only person on the planet aside from his mother who treasured his affection. And when they conceived a baby, Cloud never felt a stronger sense of drive and meaning to his life. When he'd lost his child and Tifa's trust, it all came crashing down again.
Was the source of his worth really so impossible to find? Had he been trying to find it in the wrong places? He had no parents to be proud of him. His wife had been shaken by his absence and transformation, and his baby never had the chance to even hear his voice. He couldn't even call himself a good friend: two dear souls slipped away right in front of him. It seemed that in any direction Cloud turned, he was faced with his own worthlessness and inadequacy. Was he hoping that succeeding in this struggle to save Gaia would open his eyes to a part of him that held value? Was revenge against Sephiroth and the desire to avenge his mother just a cover up for his desperate search for purpose? Where was he supposed to turn?
"I want to believe that there's more than disappointment and pain in this life," Cloud admitted. "I've come a long way, but I'm still working on it. There's so much possibility in the future and I feel like it's best to focus on that. Maybe then, I can finally prove to myself that I'm a 'somebody'."
It was strange to be opening up like this to Barret, but it was a strange relief at the same time. Since he'd feverishly woke up in Seventh Heaven for the first time, the fear that he was alone had been suffocating him. While it felt freeing to admit his weaknesses and uncertainties, it was terrifying at the same time. Life had always ruthlessly taught him that expressing vulnerability was rewarded with little more than pain and ridicule, so it was against his nature.
Barret almost seemed to sense his silent struggle and looked him right in the eyes. "It's a helluva lot easier to accept who you are, in all your damaged glory, than to try to be someone you're not," he said. His countenance was stern before breaking out into a grin. "It's sure a hell of a lot more fun, too."The gun arm lay heavily upon the arm of the chair while his free hand rested atop Marlene's head. It hadn't occurred to Cloud until now that Barret was the father of a broken family. The man was full of character flaws and made some decisions that Cloud considered rash, but it didn't make Marlene adore him any less. She treated her adoptive father with unrestrained admiration and affection despite the man's glaring flaws, viewing him as a superhero in the innocent lens of a child. There was so much at stake in raising a child and so much could go wrong. How had Barret known that he could handle the responsibility of bringing up this little orphan?
"How do you do it?" he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the girl. "It's scary to be a father, isn't it? There are so many ways that things can fall apart or fail to work altogether. Handling that pressure must be daunting."
"I just put one foot in front of the other," Barret responded matter-of-factly. "I lost everything all at once, but wadin' in it just makes it all worse. I was sad for a while, but I decided there was no time or energy to waste bein' miserable and I channeled it toward AVALANCHE. Besides, Marlene was depending on me."
What was it like to have a child relying on you for its every need? Cloud pictured the face of his daughter in his mind and felt something shrivel up inside him. His heart yearned to hold her right now, just like Barret was holding Marlene. He wanted to feel her little chest rising and falling with each deep breath as she slept soundly because she felt safe as she rested on her father. While Cloud felt secure in Tifa's trust and affection, he couldn't help but pine for the special kind of love that only his child could give.
"When you've met as many people as I have, you realize that it's always wounded people who are holdin' things together," Barret continued, stifling a yawn.
"Do you ever get jealous of other families? I mean, they get to live such normal lives with their children and you can't—at least, not now."
"Nah. Comparison is the thief of joy and I ain't givin' into that. As long as Marlene is alright, I'm alright, and it's simple as that," he said, closing his eyes. "You let yourself get too riled up—worryin' about every little thing. Let each day take care of itself."
Cloud nodded, absorbing Barret's wisdom. He'd never expected such a volatile, foul mouthed man to be so astute. But adversity builds both character and wisdom, and Barret had certainly endured many struggles. The best advice was always found in peculiar places and he was grateful for it.
"M'sorry about your baby," the older man offered. "Tifa told me about her shortly after I hired her to look after Marlene."
Cloud sighed with a mixture of sadness and release. Having Aria's story be out in the open instead of a sad little secret was a surprising relief upon his heart. "It's alright. It just wasn't meant to be."
Maybe he wasn't meant to be a father. It was as if the universe knew how terrible and selfish and weak he was. Were the flaws in his personality so severe that even fate itself had prevented him from raising his child? He shook his head, trying to rid his thoughts of such addictive pessimism. Embracing himself and all his shortcomings would be a struggle, but he had to try.
"I don't know how to be a father, anyway," Cloud said, sitting back to lean on the couch cushion.
"Mine died when I was too young to remember anything about him. No one stepped in to pick up that slack for my mom in Nibelheim, so I never got to witness a good father's work."
"Eh, nonsense. You'll be alright."
Cloud blinked, shocked at how quickly Barret dismissed his sentiment. "You really think so?"
"Yeah," Barret comforted. "And if that day ever comes where you have another baby, Tifa will be there t'keep your head on straight."
"I guess you're right."
The young man smiled, encouraged by the reminder that he wouldn't be alone. Marlene sighed in her sleep, rolling over to rest in against Barret's bicep.
"Did you tell her about Dyne?"
Barret frowned almost instantly.
"It'd make me a pretty poor father t'ask a little kid t'carry such a load," he muttered, bringing his left hand up to massage his temples. "Marlene is smart, but I think some knowledge is jus' too heavy for her. When she's older an' stronger, she can bear it, but right now I'm gonna carry it for her."
Cloud looked up at the ceiling. He knew that, sooner or later, his wife would want to discuss whether or not they planned to try again to start a family. If he hesitated, would it break her heart? How would he confront this heavy question when it inevitably came?
"I want to say that I'm strong enough to carry my kids' burdens, but I'm not sure that I can. If Tifa and I never had a family, I don't know if I'd feel relieved because of my fear or if I'd live in regret."
He was shocked at the words that flowed effortlessly from him, especially because he was talking to Barret. But for some reason, Cloud felt safe, now.
"You gonna pay a price for every damn thing you do and every damn thing you don't. You don't have a choice not to, you only get t'choose which poison you take. That's all," Barret said, shrugging his right shoulder. "But I think you'll regret lettin' fear run your life."
"The last time I let fear take control, you saw what it did to me." Nervously, Cloud rubbed the back of his neck. "You're right, but it isn't only my choice. I need to talk to Tifa about it."
After seeing the darkest parts of his heart, would Tifa still want to raise children with him? He hoped that, when they finally discussed this, she'd be honest and avoid sugar coating her opinion. She had her own flaws and insecurities, but her gentle and nurturing nature hadn't been ripped away from her. Cloud wasn't sure what he had to offer a child.
"Do you really think I could raise another human being?"
Barret thought about teasing the younger man with a witty retort, but Cloud's expression chased the notion away. It was as if those piercing blue eyes were staring straight into his soul, begging for peace or affirmation.
"Listen," he began, hoping to set Cloud at ease with the truth. "Everyone makes mistakes. Your folks might'a seemed like superheroes t'you, but parents are jus' regular people. You gonna mess up, but kids are resilient. How d'you think Marlene isn't a complete mess?"
The sound of a door opening upstairs caught their attention. Tifa's bare feet came down the stairs as she ran a comb through her damp hair, humming softly in her throat. The boys watched quietly as she came into the living room and tossed the comb into her backpack on the coffee table.
"Ready for bed, Cloud?" she asked. The way the boys looked at each other made her suspicious, prompting a worried expression to form on her face. "What?"
"Nothin'," Barret sighed. "Jus' cherishin' this time with Marlene before mornin' comes."
He rose carefully, cradling the girl against his chest. Tifa ran a gentle hand through the Marlene's hair as Barret passed by on his way toward the steps. The thought of his giant body trying to squeeze in Marlene's bed made her stifle a giggle.
"G'night, Teef. Get some sleep."
"You too," she said, fixing him with a relaxed smile.
She flopped down on the couch beside her husband and planted a quick kiss on his jaw before bending to put her socks on. It was still miraculous to Cloud that despite the chaos in their lives, things were normalizing between them. Looking toward the stairs, he watched as Barret ascended. The only part of Marlene that was visible was her tiny feet, which dangled over the crook of his arm. In that moment, it finally became clear how important it was to hold each other close and keep each other safe. There was imperfection everywhere. There would always be wounds that would weep, but day by day, they'd all move on.
"Hey, Barret?" Cloud called softly.
Barret stopped and turned to look over his shoulder.
"Thank you."
A/N: Thank you so much to those who reached out and let me know they were still reading! I'm so honored to have heard from such kind people. : ) Only four chapters left!