- ! C l o t i ! - Silver Linings is without a doubt : AU. The story line of Tifa and Cloud's past has been reverted. Tifa is the loner while Cloud is constantly embellished with company and admirers. Cloud and Tifa know each other {small town} but they're not exactly friends because of reputation's sake. This story will take place during the time frame of both protagonist's teenage years while the original Final Fantasy VII cast will be added into the story for effect.
- ! Warning ! - This story will actually be rated R. The only reason it's found under PG-13 is because I wanted it to be listed as a readable item. Silver Linings will contain adult language, sexual content, drug usage, and some violence. If you have any unsolved issues with the following topics then why are you still reading : C-ya! You have been warned and if I receive flames about these issues, those unnecessary comments will go where they were intended : the trash.
- ! Author's Shout Out ! - I respect everyone's opinion because everyone has a right to one but please show some human emotion and let the words you say be constructive criticism. I appreciate every single one of my readers, but I don't appreciate attacks on my ego. I was so satisfied on my work on The Thin Line Between that I decided to write another Cloti. Now here's the catch. I am working on another story aside from this one and I'm going to need you, the reader's, help. I'm going to place a snippet up AKA the first chapter. If you like the story and want me to continue, review and tell me so. If I see that I'm getting an audience, I will 'definitely' continue. If I get no reviews, I will trash this story and focus on my other. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it. Peace!
- ! Disclaimer ! - Final Fantasy VII and the characters involved in that game do not belong to me. They belong to Square.
- Silver Linings -
You fell away, what more can I say?
The feelings evolved, I won't let it out
- Chester Bennington - System
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The truth isn't always a beautiful thing, yet the truth will never hold false promises against you. It's hurtful and spiteful at times but it keeps the hope alive and restrains the fragile glass of your dreams from completely shattering. I'm going to tell you a story. A story which explains that our world is more surreal than you could ever imagine. I'm going to tell you a story about love, the sacrifices it makes to keep itself alive, and how it completely transforms and sometimes destroys the lives of the people encircling it.
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She sat on the large couch alone, a cigarette hanging limply from her pink lips. Her father hated it when she smoked and it would be a lie to say the sudden urge of developing lung cancer at such an early age wasn't due to that small fact. It wasn't all his fault, though. Life in general was just too complicated for a teenage girl of her position to deal with alone.
"Tifa, you shouldn't be smoking dear. It's not proper for a beautiful young lady such as yourself to do so."
Tifa averted her eyes from the small cracks in the wall ahead to the prodding woman above. Aunt Faye. Leave it to this woman to get into someone else's business even if it were the last place she belonged. With her bobbed red hair and large aqua eyes, she looked almost shy and innocent to the strangers of the outside world. It only took one word from that huge mouth of hers to prove that expectation completely false.
Her small fingers removed the slim tube from her mouth, blowing excess smoke into the air around the nosy antagonist, and coldly responding, "So sew me."
Faye looked more saddened than rightfully angry. It wasn't easy showing patience to a girl who completely defied the definition of obedience but that was hardly the reactant to her sorrow. Slowly, but surely, she was losing her once charismatic niece to the bitter character who the redhead was currently making eye contact with.
Shaking her head, Faye softly replied, "It isn't bad enough that you're smoking and doing God only knows what else but what makes it worse is I'm losing the niece I loved so long ago."
"You're not losing her.......you've already lost her. She's dead and she's never coming back," Tifa curtly said before putting out the run down cigarette in the ashtray besides her and making a quick escape.
"Tifa, please come back and talk to me! You can't run forever," Faye shouted after her retreating niece as she held back severe frustration within by clenching her fists into a tight ball.
"Don't tell me she's back to her old ways."
The blue eyed woman turned quickly to come face to face with Tifa's father's worried brown eyes. He looked so tired lately and much older than thirty-nine. Mr. Lockheart's life seemed to be withering away under scrutinizing eyes and it was a sad realization. This was the man who's personality was literally unable to stray away from lively amounts of energy and, in no doubt, the poster child for a natural high.
"Her mother just died. Do you honestly blame her," Faye pointed out while crossing her arms across her chest and staring at the door Tifa had walked out through. Her oval eyes peered intensely, almost expecting the angry brunette to storm back in and apologize. The key word being almost.
"I'm not angry at my daughter for mourning her mother. She loved her very much," Mr. Lockheart explained carefully as his shaky hand ran through his dark hair nervously, "I'm angry at the fact that by acting the way she is, she's completely allowing her life to fall down the drain. I know she's smoking but God only knows what else she's doing! I wouldn't be surprised to find a huge bag of heroin under her bed!"
"That's enough," she growled between clenched teeth while noticing other curious eyes shifting in their direction, "Tifa may be in trouble, but I would expect you of all people to know why that is."
Both adults were deathly quiet for a moment, obviously contemplating what was just said. He knew what Faye meant and just the mere mention of his past mistake brought tears to his eyes. The error had happened a year ago, while his wife was suffering with the illness which took her away from this world, but time still didn't heal his wounds. No matter how many years or decades would continue to exist, Mr. Lockheart would, or never could, forgive himself.
"It was a year ago, can't you get over it," he murmured nervously as his eyes shifted around the room to make sure nobody else was eavesdropping in their conversation.
"I can get over it but can your daughter ever forgive you for the sins you committed when her mother was on her deathbed. I know if it were me, I would tell you not to hold your breath."
Faye's cerulean eyes stared her brother-in-law down before making a dramatic exit and leaving the much contemplating Mr. Lockheart to reminisce with the demons of his past.
****************************
The fragile-looking teenager kicked a pebble which resided outside the Lockheart household. It was so deathly quiet in Nibelheim that the exaggeration of actually hearing a pin drop wasn't exactly farfetched. The town was literally doused in such silence, the only visible threat seemed to be possible insanity.
Inhaling the smoke from another cigarette, Tifa's crimson eyes scanned the area intently. It was hard to even remotely imagine this beat down environment an actual bustling lifeform of activity, but it was. In Nibelheim's past life, people were actually outside their houses and children played carefree under the sun's glorious rays. This was a page in history the townspeople were eager to remember. It marked the freedom and innocence humanity could actually possess. That was, until Shinra decided to bombard the town and mark it their territory.
Shinra was the hierarchy of civilization. They cared about nothing but seizing what they wanted. Threats, violence, torture, and possible murder schemes were just minor precautions they took to motivate themselves to keep their eyes on the prize. Human kind didn't matter. If they saw someone posing a casual threat to their mission, they would get rid of them without thinking twice about the repercussions.
The young brunette sighed while tossing the cigarette aside and shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Whoever said life was simple for today's youth should be tortured and maimed, or even worse, walk a day in her shoes.
"I finally found you. I was looking all over the place for you."
Tifa turned around to face the softened expression of her father. Anger boiled the thick liquid which flowed in her bloodstream, but she easily suppressed it from surfacing. Six months of avoiding contemplation of murder plots and turning the other cheek to confrontations had done wonders to her self-control. Without medication or psychological treatments, Tifa undoubtedly would become a viable candidate for patron saint of the easily angered.
"I guess you weren't looking hard enough," she replied shortly while giving a small, nonchalant shrug.
Mr. Lockheart looked down at his daughter sadly and softly stated, "No, I guess I wasn't, now was I?"
"Is there a reason you're out here or was it to just play the part of the concerned father figure in front of the audience of people inside our house," Tifa inquired, growing very impatient with her father's bashful behavior.
"How can you even think that," Mr. Lockheart proclaimed from his position at the front stoop of his home, "you of all people should know how much I love you!"
"Please, give me a break! How could you love someone you don't even know?"
There was a long beat of silence that made Nibelheim seem more hushed than possible. Many unprocessed emotions swept through the large gap between both father and daughter. These emotions seemed to speak more volumes than a screaming argument yet whisper softer than two people wordlessly communicating through the simple gaze of each other's eyes. Soon, with responsiveness in check, nothing seemed to be real anymore. The environment. The emotions. The unsettling tension. Everything seemed like an uncommon trip into this unforgiving Alternate Universe, where it was easy to get in yet impossible to escape.
"What do you mean how can you love someone you don't know? Of course I know you! You're my own daughter," Mr. Lockheart explained after gaining composure of the insignificant shock he had shortly experienced before.
"No. I'm made from a part of you, but that doesn't mean you understand my thought process or the emotions I feel every day of my life," the ruby eyed girl declared as her voice began to rise with every spoken word, "you never knew me! You never knew mom! How could you? You were never around! You were too busy impregnating the local bar hostess with the decent rack and ass defying shorts! You weren't there when mom suffered through the cancer! You weren't there when she began to throw up blood, signaling her close demise! You weren't even there when she died! How can you stand there and say you know your own family? You don't know shit!"
Her chest began to heave as crystalline tears caused her vision to blur. The once calm feelings within slowly began to explode while the supple bottom lip of Tifa Lockheart began to quiver violently.
The heavens seemed to cry for her predicament as small droplets of rain began to fall to Earth in considerate amounts.
"I will never forgive you for what you did. Never."
"Tifa, please," the desperate man pleaded while trying to hide the shaking of his vocal cords, "I know I was completely guilty for this crime but please try and understand my position. I need you in my life, sweetheart, you're all I have left."
"You never had me so I can't possibly be all you have left. The moment you crawled into that waitress' pants was the moment you crawled out of existence. You committed the ultimate betrayal against your own family but I'm not going to sit here and persecute you for it. Your guilty conscience is punishment enough," Tifa explained as the rain hid the coursing tears which ran down her pale cheek, "I just don't know how you can live with yourself knowing you were responsible for taking away the family every child deserves. You had your chance and you blew it so go be someone else's father!"
Mr. Lockheart watched helplessly as his daughter ran off into the rain shower. He didn't try and stop her for fear that one emerging word could leave in shambles the strong solitude he had worked so hard on constructing ever since the permanent departure of his wife. All the broken man could do was watch his little girl completely tear apart the last thin strand of hope which obscurely held what little relationship they had left.
****************************
- Tifa, sweetheart, I don't have much time left, but you have to promise you'll do something for me. -
Tifa ran as fast as her lanky body could carry her as the rain continued to pour over the town in thick blankets. Her eyes contained a mixture of tears and rain while strands of raven tangled itself within the wind's rough exhale. The sky above seemed to be a perfect mirror image of the fleeing girl's emotions, but unlike the sky, the silver lining for Tifa's eventually better tomorrow was still left unseen.
- You know I'd do anything for you, Mom. -
Sprinting forward, the active brunette jumped over inanimate objects which stood in her way. Her breaths became heavy from the pains in her chest as her blurry vision made it practically impossible to gain sight of any oncoming dangers. The rain began to intensify as thunder made itself known to the world below.
- I want you to take care of your father when I'm gone. I want to know you two will be able to care for each other so I have nothing to worry about. Can you do that for me, darling? Can you promise me you'll watch and care for your father? -
As Tifa continued to hurry away from the other world her household seemed to entitle, her mind seemed to slip away as did her grasp on gravity. She lost her footing and collided with the moist ground. There was no grunt or scream of pain or obscenity, just hidden tears and wide eyes which refused to blink.
- I....I promise. -
She had broken a promise to her dying mother. But how could she not? How could someone feel and care for a person they couldn't even keep eye contact with? It was impossible and an obligation which lacked reason was unable to be accomplished. This theory may prove to be false one day in the near future, but for the moment, Tifa would label it under the popular unsolved mystery, "The World May Never Know."
"Tifa?"
The fallen girl remained on the ground, unable to rise or even perk up to the fuzzy voice above. It didn't even sound real. Just a far off statement which was caused by the head trauma received from the certain impact. It wouldn't be a surprise if the voice proved to be nothing more than a hallucination. For the past year, nothing seemed to hold a sense of reality so why would an unidentified murmur change that.
"Tifa, is that you? Can you hear me?"
"God, just leave me alone," Tifa barely whispered as her vision began to taint even further than before her immobility.
"This is pointless. I gotta get you out of the rain before you catch an ammonia."
The hypothesis of this ordeal being a hallucination proved false as the small bodied girl felt herself being lifted up from her uncomfortable position on the floor. She was in too weak of a condition to fight back and the carelessness of what this stranger's intentions actually were didn't help her situation much either.
Tifa felt her body loose all feeling and gain a lightlessness which made her consider the possibility that she was indeed flying. It wasn't bad but then again what did she know? The helpless teenager was numb and unsure of what to expect. This was a natural high, that was all she knew at the moment. A high which people worked so hard at achieving but never officially grasped the actual concept.
"I'm sorry, mom....but I wanna be free."
"Hey, are you OK? Tifa.....Tifa you have to stay awake."
The gloomy surroundings began to spin nauseatingly as almost spotted words were said to the sedated form of Tifa Lockheart before she slipped into the new world of the unheard and un-conscience.
****************************
"You let her run off! God, are you that dense? She's never going to come back!"
Faye was nearly ready to pounce on her niece's father, so her hands gripped the arms of the large chair as a defense mechanism. As the redhead closed her eyes angrily, she shook her head in disappointment. He didn't try hard enough. That statement penetrated itself in her stubborn mind and caused more fury to rise in the confrontation.
"No, she'll come back," Mr. Lockheart stated abruptly while trying to block out his sister-in-law's disappointing comments and making himself feel better in the process, "she has to come back."
"What makes you so sure she will? Tifa hates you...."
"Shut up! She doesn't hate me!"
His brown eyes burned with a furious fire as his lips twisted into an angry scowl. In a way, those three words made more of an impact than he would allow to show. But he wouldn't loose hope. Mr. Lockheart was a determined man and when he wanted something, there was no blocking the coarse road to success. He would get his daughter's trust and affection back, even if it killed or seriously disabled him in the process.
"I'm sorry," Faye simply offered as her rage subsided considerably, "it's just so hard watching Tifa make all these stupid mistakes and not being able to save her from them....what if those mistakes kill her? What if she never comes back home? Nothing will ever be the same without her."
She was more right than he would ever admit to. Life without his daughter would be meaningless and the brown eyed fighter refused to imagine it so. Mr. Lockheart missed Tifa's warm smile and the dimple which dug itself into her right cheek when she smirked. He missed the way she knew exactly what to say when life at the Lockheart household wasn't exactly how it should be. He just missed....her and the way she used to be. But things changed and that shattered his heart more than a bullet forcing it's way into his body. Tifa was no longer the innocent child he knew her to be, but the broken woman he never imagined she would become.
"She'll come back to us. I'm not going to loose someone else I love today. I refuse to," Mr. Lockheart firmly replied, crossing his arms across his chest, and focusing his shimmering eyes out the raindrop infested window nervously.
"But how can you be so sure? How do you know after what you did, she'll ever want to see you again and not run off?"
Life was a mystery and if the future was right in the reach of every human being, it would loose it's famous appellation. Mr. Lockheart didn't know the story which would soon unfold as the years went by but one thing he did know was his hope would keep the lost dreams alive. Nothing was as it seemed, yet that didn't mean you couldn't make your own detouring turns.
With tear swarming eyes, the faithful man turned his attention back to the inqurious woman and said, "Because she's family."
****************************
She had been un-conscience for more than two hours. The young man, which sat on the chair facing the front of the twin sized bed, continued to stare, immersed at the sight. This girl was trouble and everyone in town, including he, knew so. Ever since her mother had become gravely ill, the lifestyle she lived changed drastically. He didn't know from personal experience, but rumors flew through Nibelheim that not only was this girl promiscuous but also a drug addict. Ever since these dangerous sparks against Tifa Lockheart began to fly, he made sure to keep a fair distance from the town's scarlet.
Cloud Strife was the dictionary's definition for perfection. Not only did his physical attributes contribute to that minor fact, but the character he exposed to the public also had a major contribution.
With honey blonde hair, spiked without a strand out of place, and aquatic eyes, Cloud made the top ten of every girl's 'Most likely to screw before I die' list. But no matter how many stereotypical comments of sheer perfection were made about the blonde, he still had numerous skeletons in his closet.
Sighing, Cloud ran a hand through his now shaggy hair and proceeded to take a break from his sitting position. He never knew exactly who he was and the woman, which was supposedly to be his mother, was never around to help him encounter the hidden identity. Don't be mistaken, Mrs. Strife loved her son more than anything in the world, but she had this twisted misinterpretation he needed a male influence in his life, a father figure. This belief became her obsession and ever since the thought of possible fatherhood began to haunt her thoughts, Cloud's mother was determined to find a probable spouse who could fulfill both individual's needs.
The storm was still raging through town and it seemed to only be getting more violent as the minutes passed. He placed his hands on the window frame to steady himself and stared out at the swaying trees and buckets of rain which continued falling gradually to the ground. It was strange, but Cloud could almost feel the world rotating beneath him. That was how fast the days were slivering by and tragically, the harder you try to grasp onto a memory, good or bad, the quicker the world continued to rotate. If you distinctly thought about it, the questioning result would stay the same. Was the world trying to obliterate any fond reoccurrence?
He shook his head and turned back around to continue the watchful vigil of his guest. But once his eyes refocused themselves, they fell upon the helpless girl's own wide, ruby ones. The sight shook Cloud but he couldn't help but feel a certain relief of Tifa's conscienceness.
"Hey, you're awake."
It was a stupid commentary and he received confirmation of that stipulation when there was no answer to back up the statement. Tifa laid there, eyes unblinking, face pale, and lips chapped with practically no pigment. She looked so disheveled that Cloud couldn't help but feel a certain sympathy escaping him. He knew Tifa Lockheart and the word vulnerable didn't even exist in vocabulary terms which described her.
He didn't know what it felt like to loose a mother and the blonde wasn't eager to find out how that would turn out.
"Are you hungry? I could get you something from the kitchen," Cloud asked gently, reviving a conversation which was killed shortly before.
"No."
Both individuals were quiet for some time before Tifa pushed the comforter away from her body and proceeded to sit up. As she got up, Cloud actually noticed how scrawny this girl was. Her body was hardly curvy and the stereotype of "tookpick looking girls" was an understatement when referring to the girl ahead. She didn't look sick, but the brunette also didn't fit in with the voluptuously curvy women which men loved to fantasize about.
His eyes moved about her and focused on her facial features. Tifa was beautiful, he wouldn't deny that. She had large almond eyes with slightly long, perfectly straight reddish-brown hair and short, choppy bangs to add effect. Her face was flawless, a bit pale, but unmarked as her lips sat in it's full position with a blanched pigment to them. A tired expression was expanded on her face as her body almost seemed to droop when standing on her feet.
"You know, you can stay here for the night if you want. The storm isn't letting up anytime soon," the taller individual offered while running a hand through his messy hair.
"I don't wanna burden you, plus, God forbid the town finds out you kept the "drugged out prostitute" in your bed without parental supervision," Tifa responded while crossing her thin arms across her chest, "why our favorite Ken doll will be, dare I say, the center of venomous ridicule and gossip for the first time in his whole prepubescent life. Wow, maybe the possibility of hell freezing over wouldn't exactly be that farfetched."
"Fuck my reputation. Fuck this town. Fuck the citizens. I don't care. Right now all I see is a person who needs some help and that help I'm willing to give," Cloud explained, outstretching his arm to point over to the bed, "C'mon, just stay the night and I promise you'll be free by tomorrow morning."
The ruby eyed girl stood there, scrutinizing the blue eyed boy, who had practically saved her life, and finally shrugging before falling back onto the soft bed without any further arguments. Placing her arms behind her neck, Tifa focused her gaze on Cloud Strife. He wasn't the least bit ill-looking. Actually, using the term ill-looking to describe this man should be a criminal offense. The blonde hair, which filled his head out, was raggedy looking at the moment, but still had a shimmer of healthiness to it. Along with the perfect hair was the perfect blue eyes. They shone with excitement and possessed such innocence, it made her jealous. While Cloud had the eyes of a new born child, so naive to this world, Tifa had the eyes
of a broken woman who had never experienced any real pleasure in this lifetime.
"Why'd you help me," Tifa asked abruptly while reaching in her pockets, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, leaning it forward, and allowing a single, slim tube to fall into the palm of her hand.
"What do you mean why did I help you?"
Placing the cigarette in her mouth, the brunette pulled out a lighter, which resided in her pocket, and lit the un-lively "lung destroyer." While taking the cigarette out of her mouth and blowing out the smoke, Tifa said incredulously, "It's not a very hard question. Actually, it's pretty straight forward. What gave you the inspiration to take me into your house when I was out in the rain? Was it pity, obligation, fear of a future conscience attack, what?"
"Well," Cloud began as he stood up and proceeded to make his way to the bedside, "when I saw you out in the rain, I didn't know what to do. At first, I wanted to just walk by and forget you were there. Harsh? Maybe, but what would you have done? So, I saw you and my conscience just kicked in and before I knew it, I was standing above you, talking to you, then poof, here we are in my bedroom, talking for the first time."
"Oh, and another thing," he proclaimed before plucking the cigarette from his guest's mouth, "if you're gonna be spending the night in this house, you're not gonna be smoking. Got it?"
Taking a drag from the leftovers, Cloud blew out the smoke, moved to his window swiftly, and flicked the cigarette out into the howling storm, "Plus, you shouldn't be smoking. It's not good for you."
"Whatever. The last time I checked, you weren't my father," the presumptuous teen pointed out while stooping down into the soft pillows.
"No, you're right. But the last time I checked I was putting a roof over your head and giving you a bed to sleep in. So, if we're done our oh-so-facinating game of reality check, why don't you loose the attitude, shut the mouth, and get some sleep before I do something I'll regret, like make you sleep on the floor," Cloud explained, leaning against the widow sill, and quirking an eyebrow up in threatening anticipation.
"Fine," she murmured before turning her back on Cloud and curling herself up in a fetal position. It left, yet another degree of silence, hanging in the air. The only good thing about that small factor was it gave enough time for both teens to contemplate their situations.
"Why were you out in the rain? I mean, you do have a house, why weren't you in it," the interrogator asked, his eye brow still quirked up, but only this time in a questioning expression.
"It's a long story."
"Well, we've got time. I mean, it's not like we're going anywhere anytime soon."
Tifa laid there, unsure of what to say. What was she supposed to say? 'I ran off because I hate my father. The man who impregnated some waitress behind my dying mother's back and wasn't even there to say I love you before she died.' Yes, because it was so obvious that was the correct choice of topic to speak of since tension wasn't already hanging in the air.
"I'm just mad at my dad. We're not exactly seeing eye to eye right now," she explained, wrapping her arms around her small body while closing her eyes to block out any bitter memories.
"Tifa...I'm really sorry about your mother. I know that doesn't even come close to repairing the damage, but it's all I can offer right now. I'm really sorry," Cloud replied softly, folding his hands and keeping his eyes focused on the still form of Tifa Lockheart.
"I'm sorry...those words don't even phase me anymore," she whispered audibly while not even bothering to turn around and face her savior, "I heard those two words more than I heard my own name and that's just fucking sad. Everywhere I turn, everywhere I go, when I think my mother's death just passed me by, I hear 'I'm sorry.' You know, half the town of Nibelheim showed up to my mother's funeral and what's worse, is half of the town didn't even know my mother. They didn't know the bullshit she had to deal with. She didn't know what a great person she was. They didn't know what my mother endured when she got sick. Nobody knew anything, yet they cry like she was their best friend."
More silence allowed time to stand still. He didn't know what more to say. What was there to say to a girl who lost her mother? Cloud continue to stare at his guest, unable to remove his eyes from her back. As he looked on, his blue eyes caught a shaking in her back, a shaking which looked like she was......crying.
"Tifa?"
His heart sunk as her silence placed a confirmation on his suspicions. Her back shook harder and before he knew he was doing, Cloud got up and moved forward, unable to stop himself. Placing his hands on Tifa's back, he laid down next to her, and embraced her without even considering hesitation. It gave him relief when she didn't even struggle against him in return. Tifa only shook harder, as small sobs became clearly heard, and her hands found themselves on his own.
"Shh...it's OK. Everything'll be OK," Cloud whispered in her ear as he laid his chin on the crook of her neck, held her tighter, and allowed the defenseless girl cry all her emotions out in the open.
Tifa continued to cry as Cloud held onto her for dear life, resting his cheek on her shoulder as a tear rolled down his moonlit face and onto Tifa's creamy skin discreetly.
- ! Warning ! - This story will actually be rated R. The only reason it's found under PG-13 is because I wanted it to be listed as a readable item. Silver Linings will contain adult language, sexual content, drug usage, and some violence. If you have any unsolved issues with the following topics then why are you still reading : C-ya! You have been warned and if I receive flames about these issues, those unnecessary comments will go where they were intended : the trash.
- ! Author's Shout Out ! - I respect everyone's opinion because everyone has a right to one but please show some human emotion and let the words you say be constructive criticism. I appreciate every single one of my readers, but I don't appreciate attacks on my ego. I was so satisfied on my work on The Thin Line Between that I decided to write another Cloti. Now here's the catch. I am working on another story aside from this one and I'm going to need you, the reader's, help. I'm going to place a snippet up AKA the first chapter. If you like the story and want me to continue, review and tell me so. If I see that I'm getting an audience, I will 'definitely' continue. If I get no reviews, I will trash this story and focus on my other. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it. Peace!
- ! Disclaimer ! - Final Fantasy VII and the characters involved in that game do not belong to me. They belong to Square.
- Silver Linings -
You fell away, what more can I say?
The feelings evolved, I won't let it out
- Chester Bennington - System
****************************
The truth isn't always a beautiful thing, yet the truth will never hold false promises against you. It's hurtful and spiteful at times but it keeps the hope alive and restrains the fragile glass of your dreams from completely shattering. I'm going to tell you a story. A story which explains that our world is more surreal than you could ever imagine. I'm going to tell you a story about love, the sacrifices it makes to keep itself alive, and how it completely transforms and sometimes destroys the lives of the people encircling it.
****************************
She sat on the large couch alone, a cigarette hanging limply from her pink lips. Her father hated it when she smoked and it would be a lie to say the sudden urge of developing lung cancer at such an early age wasn't due to that small fact. It wasn't all his fault, though. Life in general was just too complicated for a teenage girl of her position to deal with alone.
"Tifa, you shouldn't be smoking dear. It's not proper for a beautiful young lady such as yourself to do so."
Tifa averted her eyes from the small cracks in the wall ahead to the prodding woman above. Aunt Faye. Leave it to this woman to get into someone else's business even if it were the last place she belonged. With her bobbed red hair and large aqua eyes, she looked almost shy and innocent to the strangers of the outside world. It only took one word from that huge mouth of hers to prove that expectation completely false.
Her small fingers removed the slim tube from her mouth, blowing excess smoke into the air around the nosy antagonist, and coldly responding, "So sew me."
Faye looked more saddened than rightfully angry. It wasn't easy showing patience to a girl who completely defied the definition of obedience but that was hardly the reactant to her sorrow. Slowly, but surely, she was losing her once charismatic niece to the bitter character who the redhead was currently making eye contact with.
Shaking her head, Faye softly replied, "It isn't bad enough that you're smoking and doing God only knows what else but what makes it worse is I'm losing the niece I loved so long ago."
"You're not losing her.......you've already lost her. She's dead and she's never coming back," Tifa curtly said before putting out the run down cigarette in the ashtray besides her and making a quick escape.
"Tifa, please come back and talk to me! You can't run forever," Faye shouted after her retreating niece as she held back severe frustration within by clenching her fists into a tight ball.
"Don't tell me she's back to her old ways."
The blue eyed woman turned quickly to come face to face with Tifa's father's worried brown eyes. He looked so tired lately and much older than thirty-nine. Mr. Lockheart's life seemed to be withering away under scrutinizing eyes and it was a sad realization. This was the man who's personality was literally unable to stray away from lively amounts of energy and, in no doubt, the poster child for a natural high.
"Her mother just died. Do you honestly blame her," Faye pointed out while crossing her arms across her chest and staring at the door Tifa had walked out through. Her oval eyes peered intensely, almost expecting the angry brunette to storm back in and apologize. The key word being almost.
"I'm not angry at my daughter for mourning her mother. She loved her very much," Mr. Lockheart explained carefully as his shaky hand ran through his dark hair nervously, "I'm angry at the fact that by acting the way she is, she's completely allowing her life to fall down the drain. I know she's smoking but God only knows what else she's doing! I wouldn't be surprised to find a huge bag of heroin under her bed!"
"That's enough," she growled between clenched teeth while noticing other curious eyes shifting in their direction, "Tifa may be in trouble, but I would expect you of all people to know why that is."
Both adults were deathly quiet for a moment, obviously contemplating what was just said. He knew what Faye meant and just the mere mention of his past mistake brought tears to his eyes. The error had happened a year ago, while his wife was suffering with the illness which took her away from this world, but time still didn't heal his wounds. No matter how many years or decades would continue to exist, Mr. Lockheart would, or never could, forgive himself.
"It was a year ago, can't you get over it," he murmured nervously as his eyes shifted around the room to make sure nobody else was eavesdropping in their conversation.
"I can get over it but can your daughter ever forgive you for the sins you committed when her mother was on her deathbed. I know if it were me, I would tell you not to hold your breath."
Faye's cerulean eyes stared her brother-in-law down before making a dramatic exit and leaving the much contemplating Mr. Lockheart to reminisce with the demons of his past.
****************************
The fragile-looking teenager kicked a pebble which resided outside the Lockheart household. It was so deathly quiet in Nibelheim that the exaggeration of actually hearing a pin drop wasn't exactly farfetched. The town was literally doused in such silence, the only visible threat seemed to be possible insanity.
Inhaling the smoke from another cigarette, Tifa's crimson eyes scanned the area intently. It was hard to even remotely imagine this beat down environment an actual bustling lifeform of activity, but it was. In Nibelheim's past life, people were actually outside their houses and children played carefree under the sun's glorious rays. This was a page in history the townspeople were eager to remember. It marked the freedom and innocence humanity could actually possess. That was, until Shinra decided to bombard the town and mark it their territory.
Shinra was the hierarchy of civilization. They cared about nothing but seizing what they wanted. Threats, violence, torture, and possible murder schemes were just minor precautions they took to motivate themselves to keep their eyes on the prize. Human kind didn't matter. If they saw someone posing a casual threat to their mission, they would get rid of them without thinking twice about the repercussions.
The young brunette sighed while tossing the cigarette aside and shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Whoever said life was simple for today's youth should be tortured and maimed, or even worse, walk a day in her shoes.
"I finally found you. I was looking all over the place for you."
Tifa turned around to face the softened expression of her father. Anger boiled the thick liquid which flowed in her bloodstream, but she easily suppressed it from surfacing. Six months of avoiding contemplation of murder plots and turning the other cheek to confrontations had done wonders to her self-control. Without medication or psychological treatments, Tifa undoubtedly would become a viable candidate for patron saint of the easily angered.
"I guess you weren't looking hard enough," she replied shortly while giving a small, nonchalant shrug.
Mr. Lockheart looked down at his daughter sadly and softly stated, "No, I guess I wasn't, now was I?"
"Is there a reason you're out here or was it to just play the part of the concerned father figure in front of the audience of people inside our house," Tifa inquired, growing very impatient with her father's bashful behavior.
"How can you even think that," Mr. Lockheart proclaimed from his position at the front stoop of his home, "you of all people should know how much I love you!"
"Please, give me a break! How could you love someone you don't even know?"
There was a long beat of silence that made Nibelheim seem more hushed than possible. Many unprocessed emotions swept through the large gap between both father and daughter. These emotions seemed to speak more volumes than a screaming argument yet whisper softer than two people wordlessly communicating through the simple gaze of each other's eyes. Soon, with responsiveness in check, nothing seemed to be real anymore. The environment. The emotions. The unsettling tension. Everything seemed like an uncommon trip into this unforgiving Alternate Universe, where it was easy to get in yet impossible to escape.
"What do you mean how can you love someone you don't know? Of course I know you! You're my own daughter," Mr. Lockheart explained after gaining composure of the insignificant shock he had shortly experienced before.
"No. I'm made from a part of you, but that doesn't mean you understand my thought process or the emotions I feel every day of my life," the ruby eyed girl declared as her voice began to rise with every spoken word, "you never knew me! You never knew mom! How could you? You were never around! You were too busy impregnating the local bar hostess with the decent rack and ass defying shorts! You weren't there when mom suffered through the cancer! You weren't there when she began to throw up blood, signaling her close demise! You weren't even there when she died! How can you stand there and say you know your own family? You don't know shit!"
Her chest began to heave as crystalline tears caused her vision to blur. The once calm feelings within slowly began to explode while the supple bottom lip of Tifa Lockheart began to quiver violently.
The heavens seemed to cry for her predicament as small droplets of rain began to fall to Earth in considerate amounts.
"I will never forgive you for what you did. Never."
"Tifa, please," the desperate man pleaded while trying to hide the shaking of his vocal cords, "I know I was completely guilty for this crime but please try and understand my position. I need you in my life, sweetheart, you're all I have left."
"You never had me so I can't possibly be all you have left. The moment you crawled into that waitress' pants was the moment you crawled out of existence. You committed the ultimate betrayal against your own family but I'm not going to sit here and persecute you for it. Your guilty conscience is punishment enough," Tifa explained as the rain hid the coursing tears which ran down her pale cheek, "I just don't know how you can live with yourself knowing you were responsible for taking away the family every child deserves. You had your chance and you blew it so go be someone else's father!"
Mr. Lockheart watched helplessly as his daughter ran off into the rain shower. He didn't try and stop her for fear that one emerging word could leave in shambles the strong solitude he had worked so hard on constructing ever since the permanent departure of his wife. All the broken man could do was watch his little girl completely tear apart the last thin strand of hope which obscurely held what little relationship they had left.
****************************
- Tifa, sweetheart, I don't have much time left, but you have to promise you'll do something for me. -
Tifa ran as fast as her lanky body could carry her as the rain continued to pour over the town in thick blankets. Her eyes contained a mixture of tears and rain while strands of raven tangled itself within the wind's rough exhale. The sky above seemed to be a perfect mirror image of the fleeing girl's emotions, but unlike the sky, the silver lining for Tifa's eventually better tomorrow was still left unseen.
- You know I'd do anything for you, Mom. -
Sprinting forward, the active brunette jumped over inanimate objects which stood in her way. Her breaths became heavy from the pains in her chest as her blurry vision made it practically impossible to gain sight of any oncoming dangers. The rain began to intensify as thunder made itself known to the world below.
- I want you to take care of your father when I'm gone. I want to know you two will be able to care for each other so I have nothing to worry about. Can you do that for me, darling? Can you promise me you'll watch and care for your father? -
As Tifa continued to hurry away from the other world her household seemed to entitle, her mind seemed to slip away as did her grasp on gravity. She lost her footing and collided with the moist ground. There was no grunt or scream of pain or obscenity, just hidden tears and wide eyes which refused to blink.
- I....I promise. -
She had broken a promise to her dying mother. But how could she not? How could someone feel and care for a person they couldn't even keep eye contact with? It was impossible and an obligation which lacked reason was unable to be accomplished. This theory may prove to be false one day in the near future, but for the moment, Tifa would label it under the popular unsolved mystery, "The World May Never Know."
"Tifa?"
The fallen girl remained on the ground, unable to rise or even perk up to the fuzzy voice above. It didn't even sound real. Just a far off statement which was caused by the head trauma received from the certain impact. It wouldn't be a surprise if the voice proved to be nothing more than a hallucination. For the past year, nothing seemed to hold a sense of reality so why would an unidentified murmur change that.
"Tifa, is that you? Can you hear me?"
"God, just leave me alone," Tifa barely whispered as her vision began to taint even further than before her immobility.
"This is pointless. I gotta get you out of the rain before you catch an ammonia."
The hypothesis of this ordeal being a hallucination proved false as the small bodied girl felt herself being lifted up from her uncomfortable position on the floor. She was in too weak of a condition to fight back and the carelessness of what this stranger's intentions actually were didn't help her situation much either.
Tifa felt her body loose all feeling and gain a lightlessness which made her consider the possibility that she was indeed flying. It wasn't bad but then again what did she know? The helpless teenager was numb and unsure of what to expect. This was a natural high, that was all she knew at the moment. A high which people worked so hard at achieving but never officially grasped the actual concept.
"I'm sorry, mom....but I wanna be free."
"Hey, are you OK? Tifa.....Tifa you have to stay awake."
The gloomy surroundings began to spin nauseatingly as almost spotted words were said to the sedated form of Tifa Lockheart before she slipped into the new world of the unheard and un-conscience.
****************************
"You let her run off! God, are you that dense? She's never going to come back!"
Faye was nearly ready to pounce on her niece's father, so her hands gripped the arms of the large chair as a defense mechanism. As the redhead closed her eyes angrily, she shook her head in disappointment. He didn't try hard enough. That statement penetrated itself in her stubborn mind and caused more fury to rise in the confrontation.
"No, she'll come back," Mr. Lockheart stated abruptly while trying to block out his sister-in-law's disappointing comments and making himself feel better in the process, "she has to come back."
"What makes you so sure she will? Tifa hates you...."
"Shut up! She doesn't hate me!"
His brown eyes burned with a furious fire as his lips twisted into an angry scowl. In a way, those three words made more of an impact than he would allow to show. But he wouldn't loose hope. Mr. Lockheart was a determined man and when he wanted something, there was no blocking the coarse road to success. He would get his daughter's trust and affection back, even if it killed or seriously disabled him in the process.
"I'm sorry," Faye simply offered as her rage subsided considerably, "it's just so hard watching Tifa make all these stupid mistakes and not being able to save her from them....what if those mistakes kill her? What if she never comes back home? Nothing will ever be the same without her."
She was more right than he would ever admit to. Life without his daughter would be meaningless and the brown eyed fighter refused to imagine it so. Mr. Lockheart missed Tifa's warm smile and the dimple which dug itself into her right cheek when she smirked. He missed the way she knew exactly what to say when life at the Lockheart household wasn't exactly how it should be. He just missed....her and the way she used to be. But things changed and that shattered his heart more than a bullet forcing it's way into his body. Tifa was no longer the innocent child he knew her to be, but the broken woman he never imagined she would become.
"She'll come back to us. I'm not going to loose someone else I love today. I refuse to," Mr. Lockheart firmly replied, crossing his arms across his chest, and focusing his shimmering eyes out the raindrop infested window nervously.
"But how can you be so sure? How do you know after what you did, she'll ever want to see you again and not run off?"
Life was a mystery and if the future was right in the reach of every human being, it would loose it's famous appellation. Mr. Lockheart didn't know the story which would soon unfold as the years went by but one thing he did know was his hope would keep the lost dreams alive. Nothing was as it seemed, yet that didn't mean you couldn't make your own detouring turns.
With tear swarming eyes, the faithful man turned his attention back to the inqurious woman and said, "Because she's family."
****************************
She had been un-conscience for more than two hours. The young man, which sat on the chair facing the front of the twin sized bed, continued to stare, immersed at the sight. This girl was trouble and everyone in town, including he, knew so. Ever since her mother had become gravely ill, the lifestyle she lived changed drastically. He didn't know from personal experience, but rumors flew through Nibelheim that not only was this girl promiscuous but also a drug addict. Ever since these dangerous sparks against Tifa Lockheart began to fly, he made sure to keep a fair distance from the town's scarlet.
Cloud Strife was the dictionary's definition for perfection. Not only did his physical attributes contribute to that minor fact, but the character he exposed to the public also had a major contribution.
With honey blonde hair, spiked without a strand out of place, and aquatic eyes, Cloud made the top ten of every girl's 'Most likely to screw before I die' list. But no matter how many stereotypical comments of sheer perfection were made about the blonde, he still had numerous skeletons in his closet.
Sighing, Cloud ran a hand through his now shaggy hair and proceeded to take a break from his sitting position. He never knew exactly who he was and the woman, which was supposedly to be his mother, was never around to help him encounter the hidden identity. Don't be mistaken, Mrs. Strife loved her son more than anything in the world, but she had this twisted misinterpretation he needed a male influence in his life, a father figure. This belief became her obsession and ever since the thought of possible fatherhood began to haunt her thoughts, Cloud's mother was determined to find a probable spouse who could fulfill both individual's needs.
The storm was still raging through town and it seemed to only be getting more violent as the minutes passed. He placed his hands on the window frame to steady himself and stared out at the swaying trees and buckets of rain which continued falling gradually to the ground. It was strange, but Cloud could almost feel the world rotating beneath him. That was how fast the days were slivering by and tragically, the harder you try to grasp onto a memory, good or bad, the quicker the world continued to rotate. If you distinctly thought about it, the questioning result would stay the same. Was the world trying to obliterate any fond reoccurrence?
He shook his head and turned back around to continue the watchful vigil of his guest. But once his eyes refocused themselves, they fell upon the helpless girl's own wide, ruby ones. The sight shook Cloud but he couldn't help but feel a certain relief of Tifa's conscienceness.
"Hey, you're awake."
It was a stupid commentary and he received confirmation of that stipulation when there was no answer to back up the statement. Tifa laid there, eyes unblinking, face pale, and lips chapped with practically no pigment. She looked so disheveled that Cloud couldn't help but feel a certain sympathy escaping him. He knew Tifa Lockheart and the word vulnerable didn't even exist in vocabulary terms which described her.
He didn't know what it felt like to loose a mother and the blonde wasn't eager to find out how that would turn out.
"Are you hungry? I could get you something from the kitchen," Cloud asked gently, reviving a conversation which was killed shortly before.
"No."
Both individuals were quiet for some time before Tifa pushed the comforter away from her body and proceeded to sit up. As she got up, Cloud actually noticed how scrawny this girl was. Her body was hardly curvy and the stereotype of "tookpick looking girls" was an understatement when referring to the girl ahead. She didn't look sick, but the brunette also didn't fit in with the voluptuously curvy women which men loved to fantasize about.
His eyes moved about her and focused on her facial features. Tifa was beautiful, he wouldn't deny that. She had large almond eyes with slightly long, perfectly straight reddish-brown hair and short, choppy bangs to add effect. Her face was flawless, a bit pale, but unmarked as her lips sat in it's full position with a blanched pigment to them. A tired expression was expanded on her face as her body almost seemed to droop when standing on her feet.
"You know, you can stay here for the night if you want. The storm isn't letting up anytime soon," the taller individual offered while running a hand through his messy hair.
"I don't wanna burden you, plus, God forbid the town finds out you kept the "drugged out prostitute" in your bed without parental supervision," Tifa responded while crossing her thin arms across her chest, "why our favorite Ken doll will be, dare I say, the center of venomous ridicule and gossip for the first time in his whole prepubescent life. Wow, maybe the possibility of hell freezing over wouldn't exactly be that farfetched."
"Fuck my reputation. Fuck this town. Fuck the citizens. I don't care. Right now all I see is a person who needs some help and that help I'm willing to give," Cloud explained, outstretching his arm to point over to the bed, "C'mon, just stay the night and I promise you'll be free by tomorrow morning."
The ruby eyed girl stood there, scrutinizing the blue eyed boy, who had practically saved her life, and finally shrugging before falling back onto the soft bed without any further arguments. Placing her arms behind her neck, Tifa focused her gaze on Cloud Strife. He wasn't the least bit ill-looking. Actually, using the term ill-looking to describe this man should be a criminal offense. The blonde hair, which filled his head out, was raggedy looking at the moment, but still had a shimmer of healthiness to it. Along with the perfect hair was the perfect blue eyes. They shone with excitement and possessed such innocence, it made her jealous. While Cloud had the eyes of a new born child, so naive to this world, Tifa had the eyes
of a broken woman who had never experienced any real pleasure in this lifetime.
"Why'd you help me," Tifa asked abruptly while reaching in her pockets, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, leaning it forward, and allowing a single, slim tube to fall into the palm of her hand.
"What do you mean why did I help you?"
Placing the cigarette in her mouth, the brunette pulled out a lighter, which resided in her pocket, and lit the un-lively "lung destroyer." While taking the cigarette out of her mouth and blowing out the smoke, Tifa said incredulously, "It's not a very hard question. Actually, it's pretty straight forward. What gave you the inspiration to take me into your house when I was out in the rain? Was it pity, obligation, fear of a future conscience attack, what?"
"Well," Cloud began as he stood up and proceeded to make his way to the bedside, "when I saw you out in the rain, I didn't know what to do. At first, I wanted to just walk by and forget you were there. Harsh? Maybe, but what would you have done? So, I saw you and my conscience just kicked in and before I knew it, I was standing above you, talking to you, then poof, here we are in my bedroom, talking for the first time."
"Oh, and another thing," he proclaimed before plucking the cigarette from his guest's mouth, "if you're gonna be spending the night in this house, you're not gonna be smoking. Got it?"
Taking a drag from the leftovers, Cloud blew out the smoke, moved to his window swiftly, and flicked the cigarette out into the howling storm, "Plus, you shouldn't be smoking. It's not good for you."
"Whatever. The last time I checked, you weren't my father," the presumptuous teen pointed out while stooping down into the soft pillows.
"No, you're right. But the last time I checked I was putting a roof over your head and giving you a bed to sleep in. So, if we're done our oh-so-facinating game of reality check, why don't you loose the attitude, shut the mouth, and get some sleep before I do something I'll regret, like make you sleep on the floor," Cloud explained, leaning against the widow sill, and quirking an eyebrow up in threatening anticipation.
"Fine," she murmured before turning her back on Cloud and curling herself up in a fetal position. It left, yet another degree of silence, hanging in the air. The only good thing about that small factor was it gave enough time for both teens to contemplate their situations.
"Why were you out in the rain? I mean, you do have a house, why weren't you in it," the interrogator asked, his eye brow still quirked up, but only this time in a questioning expression.
"It's a long story."
"Well, we've got time. I mean, it's not like we're going anywhere anytime soon."
Tifa laid there, unsure of what to say. What was she supposed to say? 'I ran off because I hate my father. The man who impregnated some waitress behind my dying mother's back and wasn't even there to say I love you before she died.' Yes, because it was so obvious that was the correct choice of topic to speak of since tension wasn't already hanging in the air.
"I'm just mad at my dad. We're not exactly seeing eye to eye right now," she explained, wrapping her arms around her small body while closing her eyes to block out any bitter memories.
"Tifa...I'm really sorry about your mother. I know that doesn't even come close to repairing the damage, but it's all I can offer right now. I'm really sorry," Cloud replied softly, folding his hands and keeping his eyes focused on the still form of Tifa Lockheart.
"I'm sorry...those words don't even phase me anymore," she whispered audibly while not even bothering to turn around and face her savior, "I heard those two words more than I heard my own name and that's just fucking sad. Everywhere I turn, everywhere I go, when I think my mother's death just passed me by, I hear 'I'm sorry.' You know, half the town of Nibelheim showed up to my mother's funeral and what's worse, is half of the town didn't even know my mother. They didn't know the bullshit she had to deal with. She didn't know what a great person she was. They didn't know what my mother endured when she got sick. Nobody knew anything, yet they cry like she was their best friend."
More silence allowed time to stand still. He didn't know what more to say. What was there to say to a girl who lost her mother? Cloud continue to stare at his guest, unable to remove his eyes from her back. As he looked on, his blue eyes caught a shaking in her back, a shaking which looked like she was......crying.
"Tifa?"
His heart sunk as her silence placed a confirmation on his suspicions. Her back shook harder and before he knew he was doing, Cloud got up and moved forward, unable to stop himself. Placing his hands on Tifa's back, he laid down next to her, and embraced her without even considering hesitation. It gave him relief when she didn't even struggle against him in return. Tifa only shook harder, as small sobs became clearly heard, and her hands found themselves on his own.
"Shh...it's OK. Everything'll be OK," Cloud whispered in her ear as he laid his chin on the crook of her neck, held her tighter, and allowed the defenseless girl cry all her emotions out in the open.
Tifa continued to cry as Cloud held onto her for dear life, resting his cheek on her shoulder as a tear rolled down his moonlit face and onto Tifa's creamy skin discreetly.