Honesty is a price many fools fear to pay.
Tifa frowned, her eyes roving over the tip they used to call a garage, a defeated sigh escaping her lips. The garage was becoming more of a dumping ground than usual and while she was glad none of it was coming in the house, she couldn't help but look disapprovingly at it. The majority of it was Cloud's and she'd decided she wasn't going to touch it as it was his mess to clean up – her small pile of boxes in the corner hardly seemed in need of arrangement next to this heap of discards – but recently it had become almost too much to bear.
It wasn't as though none of it could live in his study or their room even, but he just left it in here as though he'd rather live in the garage than inside with the rest of them. She'd been tempted on more than one occasion to suggest he 'move in', but she wasn't sure how he'd take it. Cloud had never been particularly good at taking jokes, especially since the Giostigma, living properly with them and making light of his leaving was still a tender spot. At times it was like walking on egg shells around him, but he always seemed glad to be home, if he was ever home at all.
She sighed, walking into the aisle that had been made between the piles of junk for Fenrir, and sat on an up-turned barrel – lord only knows why he needed a barrel, of all things. Fenrir, now that was a problem. The garage was meant for Fenrir, she could agree with that, but that didn't mean the bike needed baby-sitting. She didn't see why Cloud had to spend every waking moment with the machine, polishing it, buffing it, sticking new 'gizmo's on it and generally giving it more love and attention than she got in a week.
She couldn't stop the stab of jealousy in her heart every morning when he unwound himself from her and got up and ready for the day. The bed seemed cold without his warmth, even though he left plenty of it behind, and she found she had no other alternative than to get up also. Only the other day he had got up at 5 am (!) to get showered and dressed and she found him half an hour later in the garage, on his back, torso stuck under that bloody bike!
She looked around her at all the rubbish and bits of tut. That was it, tonight when he got back; they were going to have a good long talk about his relationship, with the bike. It was high time he understood the difference between it, and her.
Parking Fenrir in the garage, Cloud pulled off his goggles and wiped a gloved hand over his forehead, raising an eyebrow at the dirt and dust that came away on his fingers. Time for a shower, but first say goodnight to Fenrir. He took one look at the bike, and almost bailed. The normally black bike was now peach orange with dust, the same stuff that seemed to be covering him in a fine film. It would take him ages to clean it all out, but if he didn't the engine would suffer.
He set down his goggles on the up-turned barrel at the nose end of the veritable gorge of rubbish – he knew it was bad and he should probably shift it before Tifa threw a fit, but he was busy all the time – and picked up the air nozzle from where it rested on a plateau in the junk. Lifting up the engine cover, he proceeded to blow away all the dust he could see, poking the nozzle into all the little pipe ends and battery nooks.
Satisfied, he shut the lid and dumped the air nozzle back where he'd found it, picking up his goggles and wiping them clean on his t-shirt as he walked into the house, pausing only to push his boots off with his toes and shrug his harness off by the door.
He could hear Tifa in the kitchen cooking something which smelt delicious, but decided to by-pass that destination, arguing that he'd save himself the trouble of being told off about the dust and instead went up stairs for a shower. A clean pile of his clothes was in the bathroom waiting for him and he smiled at how organised Tifa was, the complete opposite of himself. She never failed to supply them all with clean clothes and delicious food, the shopping was all done by her too, himself only being called upon to collect certain things she perhaps couldn't get in the market.
He shook his head at the new pack of soap that was left for him to start. Apparently she had been expecting him to come back dirty. He sighed as he stepped into the shower; he didn't know why she still expected him to come back, or even why she bothered providing for him at all, he knew he'd hurt her by leaving her before and he wouldn't blame her if she suddenly declared she didn't want him anymore. But there was the problem, it wouldn't be sudden, he'd been expecting her to push him out for weeks now. It was the main reason he spent so much time in the garage and not in the house. It was the reason most of his belongings were in boxes. It was why he got up and left so early in the mornings. To try and ease the pain of when she really would get rid of him, it felt like lowering himself into hot water, edging into it a bit at a time, getting used to the feeling of scolding hot pain, so it wouldn't hurt so much when she pushed him the rest of the way in.
When he got out of the shower, the water was running cold, but it was running clear, something it hadn't been doing three washes earlier. He dried himself off and changed into the clean clothes left for him, dumping his dirty clothes in the hamper on his way out.
Dinner it seemed was spaghetti bolognaise, although the only three bowlfuls on the table were already being eaten. He frowned at his empty place, then at Tifa; was this the beginning of what he'd been expecting?
"Tifa?"
She gestured to the door to the garage with her fork, smiling at him as she said, "Yours is in the garage."
"Why?"
"I thought you'd want to eat with your beloved bike." She smiled at him for a moment longer, before twirling her fork back into the food on her plate, ignoring the stares of the two children either side of her.
Cloud exchanged glances with the both of them, before turning and leaving for the garage, where he ate his meal in silence, fearing the worst. When he was finished eating, he carried his plate into the kitchen and put it in the sink. Tifa was sat at the table waiting for him.
"Cloud, we need to talk." Oh god, this was it. This was the moment she told him she didn't want him anymore, she didn't need him anymore... He walked over and sat at the table, his face the picture of misery. She started again, "We need to talk about Fenrir."
He frowned, "Fenrir?"
"Yes. Fenrir."
"..."
"Do you love him? Or her? Or whatever it is?"
He frowned again, "Love him? He's a bike!"
"I know." She said leaning her elbows on the table and linking her fingers in a business-like manner. "Do you love him more than your family?"
"Of course not! I-"
"Then why is it I find you up all night working on him, early in the morning working on him, never here when I need you to be, when the children need you to be, because you're out all day on that bike!"
He stammered over excuses he didn't even know why he was making while Tifa just shook her head unhappily. "Cloud, are we more important to you? Or is the bike? Choose one."
She had put him on the spot now and he didn't know what to say to her. He had been expecting a one-sided argument, but he hadn't been expecting it to be over Fenrir. "Tifa I only-"
"Choose Cloud. Please, I need to know this..."
"You are." He was glad his voice did not come out as small as he felt right now, "You and Denzel and Marlene. You're more important to me than anything..."
"Anything huh?..." She sighed, looking away, then standing and walking to the sink to begin washing his dishes. Somehow he felt this conversation wasn't over.
"Tifa, can you let me explain?" If he was going down, he might as well let her know before she sunk his ship. She sighed, gripping the sides of the sink with soapy hands.
"Cloud," She said, sounding exasperated, "I have given you plenty of opportunities to explain. And just so you know, Marlene and Denzel are at the top of the stairs listening to every word we say, so watch your mouth."
He gulped, his neck was really on the line and he wasn't even sure where to start. "Before, when I had Giostigma, I left because I didn't want you to see me dying. I didn't-" He paused, trying to think of how he was going to word this, "I didn't want any of you to see me weak and becoming a burden when you had Denzel and Marlene to care for already, as well as the bar and..."
"So this is about your pride is it?"
"No! This isn't about my-! This has nothing to do with me! I didn't want to crush your hope that Denzel would survive by going and snuffing it myself! I was thinking about you! Always you!"
She shook her head, not sure why hearing him talking about this was making her so cross, but it was. It felt as if all the little things about him that bugged her were being brought to the surface by this 'talk', and this had started off about Fenrir! Not him leaving them because of Giostigma – although she had to admit that was upsetting her too. "Cloud, I don't know, nor do I really care why you left us, the fact is, you did. You left. And then you came back and it's like you barely live with us even now! Why is that Cloud?"
He sighed, here it was, the big moment when all his fears were realised for him. "Because I thought, if I hardly live with you, it'll be easier to live without you when you don't want me anymore..."
Finally, she turned round to look at him, a bewildered expression on her face. "What?"
"I said," He repeated, painfully slow, "It'll be easier to live without you when you don't want me anymore..."
They must have stood in silence for 5 minutes before Tifa turned around and finished the washing up, drying and putting away his plate and cutlery in their respective places before turning round to face him once more, leaning back against the cabinet. She watched him, considering, as he shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot. Finally she spoke. "Why would I not want you anymore?"
"Because I left you..." He mumbled, lowering his gaze to the floor to avoid her calculating eyes. "I didn't even expect you to let me back into your bed but you did... But I..."
"But you?"
"But I'm afraid to do anything. To cross any lines or walls you put up against me..."
It hadn't even occurred to her to put up any defences against him, but now, she supposed it would have been the normal thing to do, to punish him maybe for not saying goodbye. But then, was she like that?
He was still talking, mumbling even, his voice so low she found herself leaning in just to hear it. "So I tried to stay away, keep out of your way. I didn't want to make you feel like you had to let me in, so I put my things in the garage. It would make it easier when I left again..."
"You're leaving me again?" she questioned, feeling almost horrified, but not quite shocked enough to be.
"I don't want to!" He hurried to clarify, "I thought you would throw me out because you'd had enough of me. I thought you would want the space for someone else because you'd realise you didn't need me anymore..."
"Someone else?" She sounded nearly incredulous now; listening to his excuses would have seemed amusing if she didn't know how serious he was being. It was, after all, very rare for Cloud to admit any of his feelings or inner workings. He'd always been some sort of enigma. "Who would fill the space you left?"
"Another guy, I don't know..."
"You think another guy could fill your place? Because we wouldn't need you?"
At his nod, tiny though it was, she smiled; a half-wistful smile that she could see in his eyes he must have noticed held more than her next words really meant. "No other man can ever fill your place Cloud, for the children, or me. No other man would even be allowed to try and fill the spaces you leave. That's how much we need you."
He raised his gaze hesitantly to meet her own and she saw he was feeling unhappy and unsafe. This wasn't what she'd intended when she started this 'talk', so the only thing she could think to give him was a hug. A look of relief flickered across his face when she approached him, arms outstretched, and she wound them round him, trying to hold him close enough that he wouldn't feel as though he had to back out, but not so close that he couldn't.
"I'm sorry..." He whispered into her hair, "I'm sorry I left before. I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. I'm sorry I didn't return your calls..."
"That's a point," She said, turning her head slightly to catch his gaze with her own, "Why didn't you ever pick up the phone or call me back?"
"Because I wouldn't have been able to stay away if I had." He said simply. She blushed despite herself and their argument from moments ago.
"A bit honest aren't we Cloud?" She said, a small smile forming at the corner of her mouth. Seeing it, a grin broke over his face too and he almost seemed his old self again, not the fragile, open creature she had been facing a few moments before.
"I don't see anything wrong in being honest once in a while."
"Then why aren't you honest more often?"
He frowned, looking away, his hold on her loosening and for a moment she thought she'd blown him down again. "Because if I was," he muttered, "You'd have known why I was leaving and why I'm always with an inanimate object instead of you and we wouldn't be in this mess... Would we?"
She reached with one hand to turn his face back towards her so she could ask, "And why is that?"
A defeated look came into his eyes and he said, "Because I love you, always have done, always will do, even if I'm honest."
Even if he was honest huh? She thought as he closed the small distance between them to brush his lips hesitantly against hers, his arms pulling her slightly closer to him, as though he was still afraid of meeting some boundary she may have put up for him. If he wasn't such a coward about his feelings, maybe he would have been honest sooner and they could stop sharing a bed out of convenience sake and they would have got to this lover's part faster she thought, knotting her fingers in his hair and pulling him closer, changing the kiss from nervous to heady.
If he was honest, maybe he wouldn't have had to wait so long to run his tongue along her bottom lip, begging her for entry as he'd begged for so many other things, her trust, her friendship... Her love.
Honesty, or lack thereof, was what had ultimately kept him from tangling his hand in her hair, playing her slightly panting breaths against his own lips when they parted for air, before whispering throatily "See, if I was being honest, I would say I wanted to spend the night in your bed, carrying on until you were gasping and practically boneless beneath me, but I'm not... So I'll say the kid's are still listening."