Splintered Dreams
"Gongaga Village"
Chapter 32
It was dark by the time they reached the outskirts of Gongaga, but Zack recognized the hills and trees and the familiar roll of the landscape, and something deep in his gut clenched and released.
Home. He was almost home...a place he hadn't been in ten years.
Guilt gnawed at him for that. With viscous teeth and heavy weight, guilt was a bitch to shake loose, and Zack was sure he'd never fully be free of it.
His parents had gone to Midgar to visit him a couple of times during his grunt days, and he'd phoned as often as he could, but he had been young and brash and so damn headstrong when he'd left. He'd wanted out of Gongaga as soon as he'd been old enough to understand that there was 'something more' out there in the world. He hadn't wanted to be limited by small town dreams. No, not Zack Fair... he was going to be something special...a SOLDIER... a hero...
Man, he had been so full of himself back then. Even before he'd made SOLDIER, and could have, he'd not gone home. Not even for a short visit. He'd always put it off as 'someday', but that day never seemed to come, so he'd called and sent letters, but never went back. And then all the other shit went down and there had been four years of nothing from him. Gods, how his mother must have felt...
"Zack?"
Tifa.
He turned towards her, but couldn't meet her eyes. "Almost there," he said and was surprised at how gruff his voice sounded.
Cait clamored up beside them. "Uh...Zack? You may want to go another way..."
The hesitance in which he spoke caught Zack's attention and he slowed the buggy. "Why?" he demanded, placing the small robot directly in front of him.
"Uhm...well, you see...the Turks are near here," Cait explained with a nervous chuckle.
"What?" Barret came up from the back, his face a mask of fury. "You setting us up, you dirty Shin-Ra son of a—!"
"What? No!" Cait quickly shook his head, held up his paws. "If that was the case, I wouldn't bother to tell you."
"He has a point," Aerith commented, one hand rubbing Barret's back in soothing circles.
"Yeah? Then why the hell are the Turks out here, if not for us?" Barret questioned.
"Dio said Sephiroth was headed this way, so, maybe they're doing exactly what we're doing?" Cait suggested.
Zack nodded. That much was true, but he didn't like the idea of being anywhere near the Turks. "All right, so which way do we go then?"
"Veer right up ahead. We'll go around the ruined reactor."
"Wait, what?" Zack blinked. "What ruined reactor?"
"Oh, that's right, you probably don't know. Three years ago, there was an explosion at the Gongaga reactor."
"What happened?" Zack demanded, feeling the bottom of his stomach drop out.
"Mako leak, so far as official records go."
"And unofficially?"
"No one really knows. But honestly, I think it was just that...a containment issue. Mako explosion took out most of the reactor, and sadly, almost all the employees."
"And the town?"
"Lost a number of people," Cait nodded. "Death tolls were estimated near three hundred. Water supplies and crops were damaged, and the resulting sickness claimed another hundred or so people."
Shaking, Zack's hands burrowed into his hair.
"You didn't know?" Aerith asked, gentle.
"No." Zack shook his head. "They never said anything," he muttered. His parents, not once, did they mention it. They'd kept it from him, he realized, so he wouldn't worry. They were those kinds of people, always putting others ahead of themselves, and here he was about to drag more shit into their lives...if it wasn't already there.
The idea of Sephiroth heading into his hometown—heading for his parents—it chilled.
Beside him, Tifa placed her hand on his, held his gaze. Warm, her touch comforted him in ways that words wouldn't, so he turned her hand—palm up—brought it to his mouth. Thank you, he mouthed against her skin.
Putting the buggy into gear, Zack followed Cait's directions and before long the tops of houses and flickering lanterns came into view. Gongaga was still standing, and looking as homey and inviting as ever.
It was a nice village, with nice people, Zack considered as he drove the buggy along the unpaved streets. Too small to be considered a town, but brimming with hospitality and its own productive rhythm.
There were sturdy houses through the main section of the village, quaint little gift shops and a grocery. There were homemade carts and wide porches, farm stands and clothes hanging on lines. As they drove through, people opened curtains and stepped outside with curiosity, but there was no hostility.
Hands lifted in waves and even in the shadows of nightfall Zack could make out welcoming smiles.
"Which one are you?" Yuffie wondered, leaning over his shoulder to peer into the night.
"My family's farm is on the other side of town," Zack informed her, nervous excitement evident in his voice. After another five minutes and he could see the top of his father's barn and relief made him lightheaded. "There," he pointed.
He remembered helping his dad build that barn. Laying framework and pounding nails until his mother chased them both inside with laughter and the promise of hot cider and fresh baked pie. Throughout his childhood, his house had been a happy home. Full of laughter and light and music and noise. Dogs that chased livestock and neighbors that were as frequent as family.
Had he ever really appreciated that? He wondered. Did he ever show them how much it meant that he had that stability, that foundation...that love?
He'd tell them, he decided. As soon as he saw them, he'd tell them.
No sooner had he thought it, then the front door swung out, and framed by the lights from the house, his mother stepped onto the porch, hands drying on a towel and a curious expression on her face.
Mom.
Zack parked behind his father's truck and jumped from the buggy's hatch before it had completely stopped. He saw his mother's eyes widen, heard her shocked intake of breath, and then he was swinging her in his arms, hugging her tight.
"Mom!"
Behind him, the others climbed from the buggy, approached at a respectful distance.
"Zack? Zack!" His mother hugged him back, laughing and crying—had he ever seen her cry?--and yelling for his father to come outside. "David! David, get out here!"
The screen door squeaked and Zack heard his father's good natured voice. "What's all the commotion...?" Zack turned to face him. "Zack!" His father's grin flashed, his big hand clapping onto his shoulder and pulling him into a bear hug. "Zack! You're home!"
"Mom, Dad." Zack hugged tighter, then pulled back and took them in.
His father's hair was gray at the temples, which was new, and his eyes carried more lines than Zack recalled, but the easy grin on sun-kissed skin was the same—the exact same—as he remembered and it was so good to see. His mother was exactly how he remembered her—all light and charm. She had striking eyes and an expressive face, with a charisma that demanded attention. Her dark curls were pulled back beneath a bandana but Zack saw a few stragglers loose behind her ears. She smiled, patted his cheek.
"You've grown," she gave a watery laugh, eying him as he was them. Then her gaze traveled past his shoulder and her eyes widened. "And you brought guests."
"Uh, yeah," Zack rubbed the back of his head, gave a crooked smile. "I know it's kind of unexpected—but..."
"Oh, hush, You know you and your friends are welcome here," she hugged him again. Then, "Where is she?"
She was hidden behind Barret, her hands in a nervous knot and her eyes on her boots.
"Mrs. Fair," she greeted softly when Zack pulled her to the porch.
"Oh, please, none of that," his mother playfully pushed him aside and wrapped Tifa in a hug. "We're family, you and I. Call me Joy."
For a moment, Tifa looked almost frightened, and Zack was alarmed. Had he done something wrong? Was she all right? But then something flickered on her face and her eyes closed and her arms circled. A shudder passed her and she burrowed her face into his mother's shoulder.
The others came forward cautiously, and Zack made quick work of the introductions. His mother's eyebrow went up and her gaze sharpened on Aerith's name. The look she sent Zack was curious and bordering on disapproving.
Feeling the heat of her speculation, Zack moved beside Tifa, laced their fingers. No confusion here, Mom, he silently told her. He knew he'd have some explaining to do—aside from the man with a gun-arm, the Wutai Princess, a talking beast and a miniature robot—there was the awkwardness of having to make rational the reasons for his ex-girlfirend to be traveling with his current one.
Satisfied, however, by his silent statement, his mother waved for them to follow her inside the house. "Come on, come on, let's get you all inside and settled, and you can fill me in on the trouble you've gotten yourselves into."
It took less time than he'd have imagined to fill his parents in on the events that had led them to their front door. They took it with their usual easy-going aplomb, and Zack felt a sense of pride in their ready acceptance and offers of assistance.
"You have to stay here for a day or two," his mother insisted when they were alone and the others had gone to ready spare rooms and make use of the offered showers and clean clothes. "Get your bearings, and rest. You look like hell," she told him, brushing his hair back from his forehead in the way she did when he was a child. It stirred him, and he knew he had to protect them from Sephiroth, Shin-Ra and anything else that came their way.
"If we're here, then you're in danger," Zack shook his head.
"After everything you just told us, it would appear that we're in danger either way," Joy said, firm. "You being here won't change that." She stood, brushed his forehead again and her gaze softened. "I insist. Now, come with me."
Obedient, Zack followed his mother into his old room. It hadn't changed, he realized. She'd left everything ready for him in case he ever came back. He grabbed a small throwing stone from his desk—one of the sleek, flat ones he'd collected for tossing across Miller's Pond—and rubbed it against his thumb.
Wistful, he longed for those simpler days of sunshine and breezes, stolen kisses in the barn, and no threat of Shin-Ra or Sephiroth looming anywhere. How in Gaia's name had he ever scoffed at such a life?
"I was told to give you this." His mother walked to his dresser, opened the top drawer and pulled out a box—one that he didn't recognize. "When you came back."
Confused, Zack took the box from her hands, opened it. Inside was a letter and a bright red summon materia. He unfolded the letter, read the clean, neat handwriting and felt the need to sit down.
Zack,
By the time you read this, I'll be gone. They found out that I helped you, and Tseng is on his way. I'd run, but honestly, I just don't have it in me. I hope that you made it. I hope, with all my heart , that you are free and that when you read this it's because you've finally found your way back home.
You have a wonderful family, Zack Fair, and they love you very much. That's easy to do. Love you, that is. I'm sure you don't mean for it to happen, so I won't be mad that you never noticed.
Take care of yourself. And if you need it, and I hope you don't, I left my Bahumut materia for you.
Your friend,
Sarah
Zack closed his eyes, took a shaky breath. "Shit, Cissnei."
"She left, not long after she gave me that. We've...she's never come back."
No, he didn't imagine she had. He felt behind him for the edge of the mattress and sat heavily. Shaken, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damn it," he rasped. "Damn them." He had suspected that she was dead, had actively hoped he was wrong, but reading the letter in his hand quashed any lingering doubts.
He looked up when his mother placed her forehead to his, her hands to his cheeks. "She's dead, isn't she?"
He couldn't lie to his mother. "Probably, yes."
Joy sighed, eyes sad. "I liked her."
"I know. I did too." His heart ached. Cissinei had risked everything to help him.
"Don't blame yourself," his mother said, holding his gaze. "She was a smart girl. She knew the risks she took. Just like your father and I do. Just like you do. You want to blame anyone, blame the people that kept you from us for so long." She stopped, tears in her voice and eyes, and hugged him.
He hugged back.
"It's good to have you home, Zack."
Despite everything—or maybe because of everything—it was good to be home.
The hot water felt like heaven on her skin.
Tifa sighed, tilted her head back and let the spray wash away the dust and dank and muck of Corel prison. She tilted her head, scrubbed behind her ears and along her neck, giving another sigh.
She wouldn't linger—she knew Aerith and Yuffie still both needed to use the shower. Barret and Red had gone with Zack's father to an outdoor rinse—used when David worked the harvest—so that the girls could make the most of the bathroom.
It was a thoughtful move on his part, but that was Barret. Big and gruff with a marshmallow heart, Tifa thought, with a faint smile. He was her family...and this here was Zack's.
Losing her smile, Tifa turned the taps, stepped onto the throw rug and snagged the towel around her middle. Seeing his parents, seeing their faces when they realized their boy—their only son—was home...it was beautiful and wonderful and it broke her heart.
Wiping the mirror, she met her own eyes and resolutely told herself to stop being selfish.
Zack owed them—her—nothing. He had come to her, to deliver the news of Cloud's death, which still had her gripping the porcelain just thinking about, and he had rescued her from the Turks, helped her get back to Sector Seven, and then he'd stayed...for vengeance, he had said, but now...
She was forced to question whether or not vengeance was worth sacrificing a home and a family. Would she? Could she walk away if her father or mother was alive? Could she look them in the eyes and say goodbye, knowing the dangers and the likelihood of never seeing them again?
Why was she expecting Zack to?
He deserved to have a life without the threat of Shin-Ra and death. He could have that here. He should have that. He deserved it.
Biting her lip and blinking, she stepped into her borrowed clothes and tried to tell herself that her heart wasn't breaking. Zack should stay. It was for the best.
It did strange things to Zack's insides when Tifa emerged from the bathroom wearing one of his old tee-shirts over a pair of his mother's flannel pants. She combed her fingers through her wet hair, her cheeks rosy from scrubbing.
It took her a moment to notice him in the shadows of the hall, but when she did, one look at his face was all it took to have her at his side, concern furrowing her brow.
A man could consider himself lucky, if a woman like Tifa Lockhart worried for him, he thought.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah. No." He gave a long sigh. "I don't know. Being here..." he made a vague gesture towards the kitchen where his mother was preparing some stew for them.
Immediately, she understood. "This is hard for you."
"Yes," he nodded. "It is."
She took a breath, and, when her eyes met his again, something like heartache shimmered in their depths. "You...They need you, Zack. Maybe, you should...you should stay."
"What?" He felt like he'd been kicked. "Tifa...no."
"You've done more than enough for AVALANCHE," she continued, staring at his shoulder. "Barret would agree."
Confused, and hurt, Zack could only repeat, "Barret would agree," dumbly after her.
"And, now that we have Cait, we have an inside Shin-Ra man-cat-robot-thing, and so you're not obligated to be that...not that you ever were, it's just, well, now you don't need to be. And we can come see you...when this is over..." she toed the wooden planks at their feet, her ramble slowing. "If you want."
"No, Tifa, I do not want."
She flinched at his tone.
"What I want is for you to tell me why you're suddenly so damn eager to be rid of me."
Pained eyes lifted to his. "Do I look eager, Zack?" her voice broke.
She looked strained and pale. "No."
"Okay, then don't shove words in my mouth."
"Sorry."
She sighed, rubbed her arms. "You have a family here, Zack. You have been lost to them for years, and now, you're here and they're here, and do you know how lucky you are? How fortunate you are? You have your parents...and...you have them, and, and..." she turned her face away. "And I won't be the reason they don't have a son."
Oh...Tifa. He reached for her, insisted when she remained stiff, and folded her into his arms. Stubborn, foolish girl."Tifa, I can't just abandon what we're fighting for," he murmured into her hair. "I'm fighting for them as much as anything else."
He bent, took her chin in hand, tilted her face up so that she could see the certainty in his eyes. "I fought for other people my whole life, Tifa. I wanted to be SOLDIER for all the wrong reasons, and I did terrible things for terrible people. Now, I am fighting for the right reasons, for myself, and for my family." He brushed her lips with his, and here in his home, felt the courage to say what his heart had been saying for months. "For all the people I love."
Her eyes widened as the implication of his words hit her. "Zack—"
"So, Tifa." He pressed her back until she was against the wall, his smile crooked. "You're stuck with me."
She shook her head, lashes spiked with unshed tears. "Stupid man," she whispered.
"That's okay," he murmured, angling his head down. "You don't want me for my brains anyway."
When his lips found hers he tasted tears and heartache and promise and longing and everything he wanted and needed in the world.
His name was a choked sound followed by the tug of her fingers and a little moan, and it sounded damn good, he thought, pressing closer. Damn good.
"Zack, would you mind lending your father a hand—oh. Never mind, you're busy."
Slow, Zack lifted his mouth from Tifa's. "No, we're good."
"I can see that." Humor edged the corners of Joy's mouth and Tifa blushed to the roots of her hair.
Deciding that he wouldn't embarrass her further—as delightful as her fluster was—Zack stepped back. "What's Dad need?"
"He's chopping wood for the fire. Go lend him a hand, would you? I'll borrow Tifa for the stew. From all you carried on about, it would seem I could learn a thing or two from her in the kitchen." Joy hooked her arm through Tifa's tugged her along.
"I heard what you said to Zack." Joy kept her voice quiet and neutral as they peeled carrots side by side.
She could pretend she didn't know what Joy was talking about, Tifa thought, but decided against it. If she was anything like her son, then she would see through it anyway. "Yes?"
"As a mother, I want to tell you that I appreciate what you tried to do."
There was a 'but' coming. Tifa could feel it. "Okay."
"As a woman, I want to ask if you're stupid."
"Wh-what?" Tifa stopped chopping.
"I hate to break it to you, but you're not as closed off as you'd like to believe. My son is a bit dense, so he may not see it, but I do. You're in love with him."
Tifa said nothing. She could deny it, she supposed, but again, she speculated that Joy would see through the lie. She cast a quick look over her shoulder. Zack wasn't in the cottage anymore, he'd gone outside already.
Joy rinsed the carrots, waited.
Tifa paused, then quietly, "I'm scared."
"Well, then you are stupid." Joy tossed the veggies into the pot, leaned back against the counter, and smiled her gentle smile that was so like Zack's. "Love isn't something to be frightened of. It's wonderful."
"Yes. I know. I'm not scared of loving him," Tifa bowed her head, bit her lip. "I'm scared of losing him."
Firm, Joy's hands rubbed her shoulders. "Life is a risk, Tifa, dear. And I know, I do, that you've had more than your fair share of heartache and that is a damn shame. But Zack's my baby and I want what's best for him, and I see the way he looks at you, and you're it for him." Joy darted a look toward the bathroom. "That other girl, Aerith, she made him happy for a time. I remember the letters. But in the end...they never would have worked." Joy toweled her hands and turned to face Tifa fully. "She's wonderfully sweet, and I can see why he fell for her, but she doesn't see him. Not really. Not past the good looks and charm. So I'm asking, do you?"
"Do I...?"
Very serious, Joy's blue eyes held hers. "See him? Understand him? Truly love him? Appreciate the man he is beneath the show he puts on?"
Before Tifa could answer, Zack strode through the front door carrying the nip of nightfall and an armload of firewood. He met her eyes briefly and she felt her insides warm, her heart skip over itself and when he smiled at her, she couldn't help but smile at him.
"Yes," she whispered.
Chuckling, Joy pulled her into a hug, whispered into her ear,"Then, say,' to hell with the risk', Tifa, and grab life, love, and Zack, and don't ever let go."
Holding on, Tifa nodded. She'd lost one love she'd been too scared to reach for...
Joy brushed her bangs back, kissed her forehead. "He has excellent taste. He gets that from me."
And, wiping her eyes, Tifa laughed.
Dinner was full of lively conversation and easy laughter and smiles and warm rolls and hot stew. It was simple and homey and the most enjoyable experience any of them had in a long time.
David answered all of Barret's questions about his farming equipment and listened as Barret offered suggestions and mechanical advice.
Joy told stories of Zack as a boy while Aerith and Yuffie braided her hair that left Tifa holding her sides and aching. It felt so good.
Red curled up with Cait in front of the fire and the evening deepened far too quickly. Smiles turned to yawns and despite her best efforts, Tifa found her head nodding forward and her eyes drooping.
Joy tucked a blanket over Tifa's shoulders, feathered her hair with a light touch."Will you stay, for another night?" she asked Zack quietly.
Staring into eyes he hadn't seen since he was a teenager, Zack nodded. "We'll head out day after tomorrow. I made a promise to Red to see him home, and then we have to find Sephiroth."
Joy nodded, eyes somber. "I'm proud of you, Zack."
He thought of all the things his mother didn't know. The things he would never tell her. "Don't be."
"I am," she insisted. "Whatever it is you think we won't understand...just know that your father and I, well, we couldn't ask for a better son. We love you."
It felt good. He didn't imagine that ever went away...three years old, fifty years old, it felt good to hear your parents loved you. "I love you guys, too, Mom."
"Good. You should get some sleep." She kissed his cheek. Then, from the hallway, "In your own room."
"Damn it."
AN: What, another update? Yeah, I guess so. My muse was in overdrive or something. But the Fair's are fun...and we're not done in Gongaga yet. I really just wanted to get a little 'mind set' for Tifa and Zack, and I hope this established that. More soon, and THANK YOU for all the encouragement. I can't tell you how much that helps!! THANK YOU!! X 1000000000000000!!!!