Title: Fatherhood
A/N: For the Bulletproof Heart zine! I think Elmyra and Barret could start a single-parents club and go on friendship dates comparing notes on their kids.
Summary: Elmyra was a good mom. Barret knew as much meeting Aerith, knew it even more when he stepped into their home. Maybe Marlene would have been better off in a home like this. Maybe Marlene would have been better off in any home but his.
…
…
…
…
It had been a long time since Barret had stepped foot into a home. A proper home too, not the rooms in the back of the bar or the tiny, cramped closets that passed for apartments in the slums. He slowly studied the area around him with an appreciative nod, taking note of the photos on the walls, the carefully stored plates, and the small round dining table, barely big enough to fit three. His body felt too big for the small chair, but it wasn't uncomfortable despite that.
No, this was a proper home, the kind that he'd dreamed of as a kid in a backwater town. The warm scent of baking cookies lingered in the air. Vases of real flowers sat in every corner, a burst of colour impossible to ignore. If he walked along the wall, he could see Aerith growing from child to woman, her sunny smile remaining the same. Even the sunlit flower field outside felt more homey than wild, and perhaps it wasn't a surprise a woman as warm as Aerith came from a house like this.
A steaming cup of tea was set on the table in front of him and Barret tore his eyes away from his surroundings to turn to Elmyra. "Thanks."
"Figure you're more of a coffee person but…" She brushed a stray lock behind her ear, a movement so identical to Aerith's that he thought he was seeing double for a second. "Well, we have to make do with what we have."
"Can't argue with that." Barret chuckled as he picked up the cup. It felt tiny in his hands. It didn't match Elmyra's cup or his saucer, the patterns all different, but that wasn't uncommon here. It was hard to get good things without compromising. "Nice place you have here."
"An effort and half to take care of it, but I like it." Elmyra sat down, angling her chair so they could talk to each other properly. She glanced at the photos. "I'm sure Aerith's embarrassed those are still up, but well, I like the memories."
Barret guffawed. From the moment they met, he'd felt a sense of kinship. Just like him, she was rough around the edges, time wearing her jagged parts into something less sharp but just as blunt. "Everyone should be embarrassed by their parents. I'll embarrass the shit out of Marlene."
Elmyra snorted, giving him a dry look. "Oh, I doubt that. She adores you."
"Not nearly as much as I love her," Barret replied automatically, before flushing. It was one thing to coo at his daughter, it was another to talk like that to a stranger. But Elmyra didn't laugh, just nodded knowingly, and he relaxed slightly. No one else at Avalanche was a parent, let alone a single one, and he'd forgotten what it was like to talk to someone else who just knew what he was talking about.
He glanced outside the window. Marlene sat in the center of the field, excitedly talking to Aerith as they weaved crowns out of the sea of flowers around them. It was an utterly idyllic, ordinary scene. To think, just yesterday, he'd been afraid he'd never see it again. "Thanks."
"Hmm?" Elmyra raised a brow, perplexed. She tapped her teacup and scoffed. "Tea's not that good."
"No, for Marlene…" Barret's voice cracked as he remembered his fear, his panic as he'd walked through the dusty children's park, the slide somehow still standing despite everything. For a moment, he had been back in Correl, his village burning around him, his people falling like wheat to a sickle. For a moment, he had been alone again. "I…if she had…"
"Say nothing of it." In an oddly intimate gesture, Elmyra reached out and squeezed his hand. Her skin was rougher than he'd expected. The calluses one her fingers were the same as his, the burden of blue-collar worker. Turning to the window, her expression softened as she stared at Aerith. "I've been there before. Just glad I could help."
His story wasn't unique, not here in the slums. Barret sometimes forgot that. Jessie's parents, Biggs' school, even Tifa hid darkness behind her sunny smile. Elmyra was no exception to their shared pain. And behind all that, Shinra stood, a dark, malevolent shadow bent on destroying them all.
He would change that. He would tear down that company, down to its rotting foundations.
Barret never doubted that. He didn't regret the choices he made since he'd joined Avalanche.
Yet. He watched Marlene giggle as a butterfly landed on her hand. Her story didn't have to be like theirs. No, hers could be a happy one, full of light. If he hadn't kept Marlene all those years ago, if he had given her to an ordinary family, maybe even one like Elmyra's…
Maybe she would be safer. Happier. Marlene had always been a perceptive child and he'd notice the way she tossed and turned in her sleep when he left for missions, the way she'd follow him like a baby duck for days after he'd return back from one.
"Did she like it here?" he asked finally.
"It's not my first rodeo." Elmyra shot him a questioning look, noticing the change in tone. "We baked. She's a good helper." She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, in the direction of the kitchen. "They're almost done."
Aside from Tifa's cooking, Barret couldn't remember the last time they'd had a home-cooked meal. He clenched his jaw. Just how many other things had Marlene had missed out on? His fingers curled into his thigh. "It's fine if she stays here a little longer? I…there are some things I need to do."
Elmyra furrowed her brow, scrutinizing him. After a long moment, she shrugged. "Sure, we got room for one more."
He relaxed, resting his fingers flat on his leg, releasing the tension in his jaw. Perhaps, during his absence, Marlene could finally experience a level of normalcy. "Thanks."
"But don't take too long, or she'll get homesick," Elmyra added sharply, as though she read his mind.
Considering the state of Sector 7, there wasn't really much of a home to go back to. Most of it was rubble now, the people they knew and loved buried in a stone coffin. "The bar—"
"Ain't the bar she's missing." Elmyra snorted, shaking her head. Getting up, she headed into the kitchen. "Like I said, she adores you. Your friends too. Spent most of her time here talking about all the things you get up to in the dusty bar."
There was the sound of the oven opening and closing, the cookie smell growing stronger. She returned with a plateful of chocolate-chip cookies and set it down in front of him. "She spends a lot of time worrying about you."
"I'm sure she does." He stared at the cookies. It was easy to tell which ones Elmyra made and which ones Marlene did—just like him, hers were roughly shaped.
"So when you're done, you'd better make up for all of that." Elmyra rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. Turning it over, she laid a cookie on his palm. "They grow up fast. Blink and you'll miss it. So you'd better not take too long finishing business either."
The cookie was hot, but even if it was cold he was certain it would sear a mark on his skin. Barret glanced up at Elmyra, then out the window at Marlene. Noticing his stare, she grinned and waved, holding up her crown with her other hand. It was too big for her head and with a start he realized it was for him.
What was he thinking? That toothy smile wasn't for anyone but him. Another family might have kept her away from AVALANCHE, but Shinra was everywhere, in even the most subtle of ways. There was no safety, not really, as long as Shinra was around.
He'd keep her safe. Barret would destroy Shinra, and then he'd come home and make her happy. Waving back, he smiled.
And no one could make Marlene happier than he did. He could guarantee it.
"Don't need you to tell me how to do my business." Barret bit the chocolate-chip cookie and felt warm to the core. "I'll be back before you know it."
"Counting on it." Elmyra smiled, sitting back in her seat. Her fingers wrapped around her cup and she raised it, inhaling the scent. "You'd better keep an eye on Aerith out there."
"They won't hurt a hair on her head," Barret pledged, thumping his chest proudly. It was the least, the absolute least, he could do.
"I'd take the hair from your head, but I'm not sure you can survive the loss." Elmyra chuckled, sipping her tea.
"Hey! I'll have you know this is actually real fashionable," he protested weakly as he grabbed another cookie. It was hard to stop with just one. "They're good."
Elmyra sipped her tea, amusement shining bright in her eyes. "Like I said, she's a good helper."
Barret puffed his chest with pride. "She takes after her Daddy."
And that was a title he absolutely refused to let go.