Splintered Dreams
Chapter 33
"Gongaga Day 2"
In sleep came dreams, and in the dreams there was screams and weeping and fire that sang with glee as it scorched wood and charred flesh. Blood ran warm over his hands as he dragged bodies from flame, hoping to find survivors, but only ever finding death.
Madness gripped Sephiroth and fear flooded the streets of Nibleheim.
In the dream Zack stood beside Cloud, watching the town burn. Together, they ran towards the center square and blood splashed their boots like puddles of rainwater. They ran, even as the sky flickered orange and black and screams were heavy as smoke. They ran, both yelling for Sephiroth to stop—for it all to just stop—both screaming one name above the others. They had to find her...
There was a horrible cracking, a flash and a boom, and the windmill above the well crumbled to the ground in a heap of blackened ruin. Blinding plumes of smoke scorched the air and stung eyes and throat. Hunks of wood and glass littered the cobbled streets. Chaos. Madness. Destruction.
Stop. Please.
Gritting his teeth, Zack spun, rage and fear and terror making him helpless. Beside him Cloud said his name, and then he too went up in flames, the heat licked along arms and hair, burning him like a torch.
No! Zack reached out as Cloud turned to ash and cinder, the dark death of him sifting between fingers and memory.
He arrived then. A greasy black shadow, flickering in the fire. A monster in the guise of a man. He smiled. "I will tear your weak heart from your chest, puppy." And in his arms he cradled Tifa.
No, no, no, no, no! Please, no!
"She will die." Sephiroth tossed her onto the ground, a broken, bloody doll in a cute little cowgirl outfit with wide-eyes on a shattered porcelain face. Above her Massamune hovered.
Her lips parted, moved. "For you."
And the blade fell.
Swallowing back a scream Zack bolted upright in bed, kicking his bedsheets in a frantic struggle that ended with him on the floor and his fist pressed to his mouth to keep from yelling for her. The air choked his lungs, and caught somewhere between, he thought maybe he tasted soot on his tongue.
Tifa!
Dead. Killed in front of his eyes.
He felt sick.
Sleeping, Zack, she's sleeping. Sheathed in sweat and shaking, he forced that one thought into his terror clouded mind. Hammered it home.
Safe.
They were safe.
Tifa...was safe.
With a grunt, he righted himself, back pressed to his mattress and palms pressed to his forehead.
That one had been...too real. He sighed, rubbed shaking his hands down his face, not surprised to find his cheeks wet. After Cloud...after the things Hojo had done to him, nightmares had become a constant, and he'd adjusted, but for the past several nights he'd not had any—a relief to say the least—but now he felt foolish for being so caught off guard by a dream.
Just a dream, he told himself. A stupid, fucked up, gut-wrench of a dream, but just a dream.
The dim shadows on the walls told him it wasn't yet dawn, but he knew it would be useless to try and find sleep again. He untangled his limbs, got up.
In the living area, curled on the couch, he found Tifa. The sight of her, unharmed and sleeping, was such a relief that his knees threatened to give. He had the urge to wake her, but he fought it down. It was irrational, and she needed her sleep.
She was on her side, face burrowed into a quilt his grandmother had made and hands tucked beneath her chin. She looked cozy, he thought with a smile. And at home.
That did things to his insides that—even admittedly loving her—he wasn't really prepared to delve into, so he turned, made his way to the kitchen. She'd want coffee when she woke, so he busied himself making some.
"Aren't you a rise and shiner," his mother's voice drifted to him as he was filling the kettle.
Scratching a hand over his stomach, Zack yawned out a semblance of greeting. "Could say the same for you," he said over his shoulder.
Smiling, Joy stepped into the kitchen. "Farm life hasn't changed, Zack." She reached up into the cupboard pulled down mugs and plates. "Hungry?"
Zack slanted her a look. "Mom."
"Right," she poked his belly. "Always hungry." She snagged an apple from the fruit bowl, handily sliced it in half and slid it over to him. "To tide you over until waffles are done."
"Waffles," Zack placed a hand to his heart, lips to her cheek. "Why do we not have a monument in tribute of your greatness?"
"I ask myself that all the time." She caught his chin between thumb and forefinger, searched his face. "Zack, what is it?"
Damn, how did she do that? Her and Tifa...was it some ingrained female thing? "Nothing," he evaded.
"You're a lousy liar," she murmured, releasing her hold.
"I'm a fantastic liar. I just can't lie to you." He leaned back against the counter, lifted one shoulder. "Bad dream, that's all."
"Want to talk about it?"
He took a bite of apple. "No."
"All right." She hugged him—brief, sure, strong—and went about preparing breakfast. "When you're ready, if you ever are, you know where I am."
He watched her with fascination. He'd forgotten just how wonderful she was. Pushy, sure, demanding, never. She expected honesty and hard work, but respected distance and personal issues. When he'd gone off to chase his impossible dream she never once tried to shoot it down, and instead had taken extra sewing, and baked more, and saved and saved until they could send him to Midgar with assurance that he had enough to get by.
His father had told him to be strong, stay steady, and remember his roots. He'd done that, Zack thought, but he'd not appreciated them as he should have. Gentle, he grabbed his Mom, leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"No." He turned her, looked into eyes the same shape and color as his, and repeated, "Thank you. For everything. You and Dad...you were always there. I love you, for that and thousands of other reasons that I was too head-up-my-ass to notice and appreciate."
"Oh." She was silent for a moment, then with a soft sigh, she put her arms around him."Stop, you're going to get me all weepy, and your father hates that, so...shoo. Go make yourself useful."
"What's Dad doing?"
"Finishing up morning chores and wood chopping. He's in the yard," she pointed out the window above the sink, and sure enough, Zack saw his father lugging hay bales toward the barn.
"Old man's making me look bad." He grabbed the other half of the apple, and after another quick hug, sauntered out the front door.
It reminded her so much of when he was a gangly teenager that Joy had to close her eyes and take a slow breath. It felt wrong, that fate would have this family torn apart, put back together, only to be wrenched away from one another again. It was grossly unfair, and since Joy wasn't the fatalistic type, she believed—had to believe—that Zack would pull through whatever he was involved in.
Her gaze strayed to the couch and the slender figure nestled on it. Yes, Zack would pull through, because he wasn't alone, he had friends, a love, a family away from this one, and that gave her comfort.
The scent of fresh brewed coffee and something warm and sweet roused Tifa from heavy slumber. She blinked groggily a few times, disoriented by the homey sounds and warmth that greeted her. She tilted her head back, smiled at the sparkling sunlight and heard birds chirping. It was such an idealistic way to wake up that she didn't move for a few minutes, but savored it.
Looking around, she didn't see anyone in the room with her, or in the general vicinity. Red and Cait had vacated their spot in front of the now dead fire and Barret was no longer sprawled out in the recliner. Yuffie and Aerith had opted to share the spare room—Tifa had intended on joining them, but had fallen asleep instead—but she couldn't hear them, if they were awake.
Arms stretched over her head, Tifa wondered where they all were as she followed the inviting aromas into the kitchen.
She was surprised to find it was also vacant, but there was a plate of steaming waffles on the sideboard and coffee in the pot that told her Zack's mother was already up and about. She was pouring herself a healthy dose of caffeine when she looked up, out the small window above the sink, and promptly scalded her hand with hot liquid.
Like the evening before, Zack was in the front yard helping his father chop firewood, unlike the previous evening, however, his shirt wasn't covering that broad expanse of chest, but was instead, tucked behind, in the waistband of his pants.
At the sink, Tifa felt her mouth go dry.
Muscles coiled, flexed, rippled. Arms up, body tight, he swung and wood split. Morning sunlight gleamed against golden tones and each chop brought another rush of heat and tightness of breath for Tifa.
"Morning." Aerith's light, airy voice floated to her but Tifa only nodded vaguely. Curious, Aerith leaned against her shoulder. "What's so...oh...my..." she giggled, her cheeks glowing pink.
"Wow." Yuffie, who had strolled in right behind Aerith, pressed herself between them, peered into the yard. "I mean, damn, Tifa. Just damn."
Yeah...
"What's so interesting, girls?"
Joy's voice, layered in wry amusement, caused the three to jump and whip their heads towards her.
"Coffee," Tifa muttered, grabbing her forgotten cup and sipping, avoiding eye contact while her face burned.
"Same," Aerith chimed, quickly reaching for one of the other mugs.
"I was gawking at Zack," Yuffie shrugged, forgoing coffee in favor of the fresh squeezed juice.
Taking a drink from her own cup, Joy's lips arched. "At least one of you is honest." She made her way to the window, peeked into the yard and shook her head, but Tifa noticed how her eyes stayed on her husband's still strong and well-built form. It was like getting a sneak peek at what Zack would look like when he was older, and the view was good, Tifa decided with a small smile, moving away from the counter.
"Has anyone seen Barret?" she asked. She was still anxious over him after the Dyne incident.
"Your friend is feeding the animals," Joy supplied, settling at the kitchen table. She patted the spot across from her, and Tifa took the invitation. "He's a quiet one."
Yuffie choked with an unladylike sound. Juice dribbled from her lips and she was forced to lean over the sink or spray Aerith. "Barret? Quiet?"
"You okay?" Aerith whapped Yuffie between her shoulders.
Tifa chuckled, explaining, "That's not the usual description of him."
"Oh, I know. Zack gave me plenty of descriptive words, and none of them were 'quiet', but," she shrugged, "Zack tends to exaggerate."
Having heard many of the conversations Zack had with his mom, Tifa could say, in all honesty, that Zack had been surprisingly forgiving in his accounts. Not that she was about to tell Joy that. No, no, that could remain unsaid.
"Some things have happened recently," Tifa murmured. She lifted her head, met Joy's thoughtful gaze. "They've been hard on him."
"I imagine that whatever has happened has affected all of you," Joy commented.
"Yes."
"But you have each other..." Joy motioned for Aerith and Yuffie to join them at the table. Once there, she clasped all of their hands together. "That's a good thing," she told them. "There's strength in you, I see it. I don't know what your facing," she shook her head, gave a rueful chuckle that reminded Tifa of Zack, "and I don't think I want to know—I'd like to be able to sleep at night—but for sure, and without doubt, I know that the bonds you have with one another will matter. They will make a difference." She gave their joined hands a gentle squeeze. "Okay, now that I've imparted my words of wisdom, I'm going to put you girls to work."
Work consisted of Yufie pinning clothes and satchels that needed mending while Aerith offered advice and a hand in Joy's gardens, and Tifa was to be sent into town for food and essentials.
On the open porch, Tifa gave the list in her hand another scan, satisfied and impressed at the items Joy had thought to include for their journey.
"Hey."
She looked up to see Zack jogging towards her and she had to remind herself to breath.
A fine sheen of sweat caused already defined muscles to look sculpted and the casual way he moved—so comfortable in his own skin—made her all the more aware of it. He stopped at the bottom of the steps, looked up at her. "Morning."
"Morning." There was something heavy in his gaze, lurking just behind the blue and violet shimmer. Something...not right. She frowned, unable to put a finger on the tension she felt around him. It was subtle, barely there, but she felt it just the same.
"Zack?"
He glanced away from her and down at the paper in her hands, cocked his head. "What's that?"
"What? Oh, this? I'm on errand duty."
"Ah." He pulled his faded blue tee shirt from pants, shrugged it on."Want some company?"
Tifa looked towards the barn where Zack's father was doing something with the tractor.
Zack followed her gaze. "He's good. We finished the yard work." He offered a teasing smile. "Had a nice father-son talk."
Her own lips arched at that. It was nice to see Zack smiling and happy, so she let go of her previous unease.
"He thinks I hit the jackpot with you."
That surprised her a bit. "Oh?"
One shoulder lifted in a casual shrug as Zack leaned against the porch rail."I happen to agree. Told him what a fantastic kisser you were."
Tifa could feel her cheeks bloom as her eyes widened. "You did not."
"Sure, I did. Told him how you bite, just a little, when you're really into it—"
"Zack!" Oh, Gods, she wasn't going to be able to look at his father.
Laughing, Zack reached for her hand, tugged her down two steps so she was eye level. "Kidding."
"You ass," she slapped his arm.
"Ouch." He rubbed the spot, still grinning.
The look he was giving her now was heavy with things unspoken. "What?" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear, flustered.
"I like this," he told her. He brushed her bangs back, followed up by tucking the same spot she had. "You and me. Here. Happy."
She did too, she thought, belly fluttering. It was too easy to get caught up in the normalcy—something she'd not felt in ages—and the comfortable way the Fairs were with one another. Not to mention having Zack, eyes light and grin wide, giving her that look...
She thought of his mother's words to her last night, and of her own feelings, and the feelings that Zack had hinted at. Should she ask him? Should she tell him? Would things change, if he knew?
What if what he felt for her wasn't the same as how she felt for him? Love meant different things to different people, right? She frowned, already doubting herself and her footing. She knew Zack was attracted to her, cared for her, wanted to be with her...wasn't that enough? She should just leave it alone...things would fall where they fell.
"You look so serious all of the sudden," he murmured, touching her face.
She closed her eyes as his thumb traced along her jaw, tilted her head back. His mouth was soft but firm, teasing hers with slow strokes and a hint of tongue. Her fingers curled on his biceps for balance and she made a soft sound in the back of her throat when he angled his head and deepened the kiss.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and the world tilted just enough to make her dizzy. Warm, strong, his hands moved to cradle her face and he murmured her name into her mouth.
Her fingers slid into his hair, clutched the damp strands as her body melted into his. He held her close—secure, she thought—and hummed against his lips. She had no idea how long they stood there, on the front steps of his parent's home, kissing, but she did know she could have stayed that way forever—would have, if not for some pointed throat clearing.
Zack lifted his head, turned to see his father's amused expression.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hey, Zack. Tifa."
"Sir." Where was a hole in the ground when you really, really needed one?
"Thought you might want to take the pickup if you were heading into town," David offered, tossing Zack the keys. "A little less conspicuous than that," he pointed to the buggy.
"Sure. Thanks." Zack pocketed the keys. To Tifa, "Set?"
"Yeah." She nodded again to Zack's father, mumbled a quick goodbye, and hurried from the steps.
Zack watched her go with a crooked smile. He had no idea why her all rosy cheeked and flustered was such a turn on for him, be he sure liked the look on her.
"Zack."
Still slightly distracted, he turned to his Dad. "Huh?"
"Your mother really likes her."
"So do I."
David Fair cocked a brow, the expression eerily similar. "I meant what I said earlier. If she's everything you say she is—everything she seems to be—you're a very lucky man."
"I am. But, why do I feel like that's not the end of what you have to say?"
"Probably because it isn't," his father's smile was easy, but his eyes were edged with seriousness. "You need to be aware of your actions, Zack. I get the feeling a girl like that doesn't take romance lightly. It's easy to get caught up in adrenaline and the heat of the moment, and you guys are involved in some pretty deep stuff, but that all wears off over time."
Zack sighed, ruffled his hair. He understood where his father was coming from, he really did. After all, even as a young teenager Zack had more girlfriends than people had socks, and he'd cycled through a generous amount when he'd gotten to Midgar. But Aerith had changed that—changed him, and his views on life and love—and he'd grown. Then along came Tifa, and...well, Tifa was exactly what he wanted. What he needed. She buoyed his soul in ways that defied description, and he wanted—more than anything—to do the same for her.
"It won't wear off," Zack said, very sure. He shook his head, chuckled. "I never understood you and Mom before, never really got what you two were trying to teach me when it came to love and loyalty. I get it now. I know what it means to want for someone else. Tifa...she's had a hard life, but she's still so damn generous and caring. She's amazing and she makes me happy, but I want more than that. I want for her to be happy. I want to wake up beside her and take care of her and share every moment—good and bad—with her." He held his father's gaze. "She's my best friend, and I love her."
David grinned, broad and wide, then leaned to one side, peered over Zack's shoulder. "You get all that?"
Zack spun around, found himself facing a very wide-eyed Tifa. His heart clenched, stomach tightened, "Uhm, hey. Thought you went to the truck."
"Forgot my gloves," she whispered, eyes locked on his.
"I'll just go make myself an annoyance in the kitchen." David thumped Zack on the back once as he passed.
Thanks for the backup, Dad, Zack thought, watching the screen door flap shut.
"Zack?" Tifa's voice shook, drawing him back to her.
Feeling completely out of sorts and at a loss for proper words, Zack rubbed his neck, leveled her a shadowed look. "Sorry," he said finally. "I know that I told you I wouldn't pressure you, and that we'd go slow, and I meant it. Just pretend that you didn't hear—Mmmph."
Zack staggered back a step beneath the force of impact, confusion on his face, but his arms apparently didn't need a go-ahead from his brain, and they wrapped around Tifa; tight.
Tifa's own arms were wound around his neck, her lips pressed awkward and hard to his.
Okay, he thought. Okay, this he could do. He met her kiss with one just as desperate. Teeth and noses bumped, but that was okay, too. Because this wasn't a kiss of seduction. This was something far, far sweeter.
It was acceptance.
She heard and she hadn't run, hadn't slammed down those very impressive walls of hers, hadn't scoffed or pretended he was too numb to know his own heart. She was in his arms accepting that he loved her. It was so much more than he'd expected, so much more than he'd even dared hope for.
Her hands cupped his face, and his moved down to curve on her backside, pulled her closer.
"Awwwww, ain't they cute!"
Yuffie. Damn it.
"Adorable."
Barret. Shit.
"So cute, I think I'll give Princess a ten second head start before I whoop his ass for groping on Teef."
Zack lifted his head, flashed white teeth.
Blushing, Tifa defended him. "Barret, Zack was hardly groping—"
"I dunno. Looked like he was grabbing your ass from where I was standing," Yuffie commented.
"Thanks." Zack shot her a look. She shrugged.
Barret adjusted the settings on his arm. "Ten...nine...eight..."
"Time to go, Tifa." Zack grabbed her hand, pulled her—quickly—to the truck, followed by Barret's grumbling and Yuffie's laughter.
He loved her.
That giddy little thought floated with her as she palmed through apples and lettuce and other produce.
He loved her.
She smiled at the carrots.
He had hinted at it last night, standing in the dim hallway while she tried to tell him to stay with his family...to tell him goodbye. But to hear it...
And he'd sounded so certain.
This wasn't some utterance in the heat of the moment or some placating tactic. No.
She felt it, when he touched her, when he kissed her, when he argued with her, but she'd chosen to ignore it, and sometimes fight it, but what was the point of that? She wondered.
She supposed, if she was honest with herself, she fought against her feelings for Zack not simply because she'd loved too much and lost her whole life, but because wasn't she supposed to be mourning? How dare she fall in love with someone after Cloud...
And it was scary. Because where guilt and pain should be weighing her down there was only sadness, ever present and lingering, but still sadness and love. She loved Cloud. She knew that. She loved him as a knee-scuffed boy and as a lanky, uncertain youth.
She'd loved his quiet ambition and silent strength.
She'd loved the way his eyes softened on her, and the hints of smile only she ever got to see.
She'd loved him... and everything they could have been. Hope had been her constant and Cloud her wandering star.
It was a painful combination, but she'd endured, because she believed in him.
His death left a hole in her life that could never be filled. She wasn't foolish enough to think anyone could fill that. But Zack wasn't trying to, and that made all the difference.
She supposed that was because she knew that Zack loved Cloud, too. She saw the way Zack's eyes lost focus when he talked about Cloud—and sometimes, when he didn't know she was looking. He had cared, he had hurt, and he had bled for him.
Zack was a good man, and to her surprise, and admitted relief, it was that goodness in him that kept feelings of guilt and betrayal from her. And maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, but she'd like to think that Cloud would be happy for them.
He had trusted Zack enough to send him to her. He couldn't have known the outcome, but she believed—with a certainty she couldn't explain—that he would understand.
"What has you so lost in thought?"
Tifa gave a little start, shot Zack a look over her shoulder. "Sorry. Thinking."
"About?"
"Cloud."
His brows twitched, eyes darkened a shade, and he swallowed. "Oh."
"I think..." she put the oranges down, moved to stand in front of him. "I think he'd be happy," she said quietly.
When Zack simply looked at her she elaborated.
"Us. I think Cloud would, I don't know, approve?" Suddenly feeling unsure, she toed the tile on the floor. "Is that weird?"
His head tilted, lashes veiling the brilliant hues of his eyes, his fingers brushed her cheek. "No."
"Good." Her smile was tremulous.
"Tifa, I think—shit! Down, down," Zack pulled her arm, crouched them beside the fruit stand.
Tifa complied, peering beneath the stand, trying to see what Zack had noticed. It only took her a second. Pristine suits at the front counter.
The Turks? Here?
From her position Tifa couldn't make out anything above the waist of their pants. She mouthed 'Turks?' and Zack nodded, held up two fingers.
Palm up, he motioned for her to stay as he shimmied a bit around, trying to get a better view.
Reno and Rude.
Just his luck.
They were at the front counter—the only register in the small store—asking Mr. Sutton if he'd seen Zack Fair.
Shit, shit, double shit.
He'd stopped and chatted with him on the way in. Even told him he was visiting his parents. Stupid, stupid, Zack!
To his astonishment, however, Mr. Sutton shook his head. "The Fair boy died. Some years back."
"What about any newcomers or travelers?" Reno pressed.
"Just you gents."
"You've seen no one suspicious or unusual around town?" Rude this time.
"Gongaga's a small village. If we had travelers, everyone would know."
"So, you're saying you've not seen anyone unusual?"
"That's what I just said. Look, you going to buy anything, or just ask me the same questions over and over?"
"Don't get mouthy with us, old-timer. We're Shin-Ra—"
"Thank you for your time, sir."
"Damn it, Rude." Reno brushed the front of his suit jacket in angry swipes. "You let them give you attitude and you lose leverage."
Zack shifted back and he and Tifa slid further along the floor until they were mostly concealed by crates.
Just out of eyesight, Zack heard Rude speak. "Tseng's orders. We're not to harass the people here."
"Which is bullshit. He goes all soft in the balls when it comes to Fair."
"It's not Fair he's soft for."
"Riiiiight," Reno chuckled and it was a lewd sound. "His thing with that Ancient chick."
Rude grunted.
"What is it with you guys?" Reno grabbed an apple, tossed it in the air. "It's pathetic."
"You wouldn't understand."
"No shit. I don't. Tseng won't make the hard choices and you," Reno snorted. "You won't even hit that AVALANCHE bitch."
Wait, what? Zack tilted his head, listened attentively.
"Reno."
"Sorry. Look, man, I know you have it bad for her, but seriously, how is that gonna work? You going to get Rufus to pardon her so you two can live happily ever after? Not that I don't understand, because shit, she's built like a wet-dream. But I've seen her fight. I'd be checking under that skirt for balls."
"Shut up."
"Just saying. So what now? The Fair homestead?"
"We wait for Tseng's orders."
"Uh-huh." They were moving away from them, heading out the front door.
Zack felt his teeth grind—so hard he may have cracked a molar.
"Zack." Tifa shook his shoulder. "Come on," she whispered, tugging.
"This way." Mr. Sutton appeared around the corner. He led them to a back storage room with an employee exit. "Never did trust those Shin-Ra bastards. Lost my son in the reactor explosion. Figured the way you ducked behind the oranges you didn't want to be seen. Exit leads to the back lot. Probably can't get to your truck, so here," he handed Zack a key ring with a tonberry keychain. "Delivery van."
"Oh, wait," Tifa started to hand over her basket of items.
"Take 'em," Mr. Sutton insisted.
"Thank you," Zack said as he and Tifa slipped through the door.
The moment his mother saw the delivery truck and not his father's pick-up she knew something was wrong. Zack saw it on her face, and he hated that he put that expression there.
"Turks," Zack said the one word greeting to the others. He eyeballed Cait, who was on the porch rail. "In town, and probably heading his way."
"Time to go then." Joy handed Yuffie and Aerith overstuffed satchels while David helped Red and Barret put the remaining tents and supplies into the buggy.
"Maybe you should go," Aerith suggested to his parents. "If the Turks are on their way."
"No," Joy shook her head. "This is our home and besides, we've dealt with this before. You go, get safe, and remember what I told you."
"We will." Aerith and Yuffie hugged her.
She made her way to Tifa, wrapped her arms around her. "I had wanted to have a private moment with you before you left, but being as things are, here." She handed Tifa a small box.
Confused, Tifa opened it and found a delicate chain and a twisted silver charm.
"It was my mother's," Joy told her. "And it's supposed to be passed on to our daughters."
Tifa's head whipped up, eyes misting over. "I-I can't..."
"You can and you will." Joy sniffed, taking the chain from the box, clasping it around Tifa's neck. "I'll have no arguments from you, understood? This is a gift, my gift to give. I want you to have it."
"I...Thank you." Trembling fingers clutched the charm.
"No, Tifa, thank you." Joy hugged her. Then, "Zack."
It was hard to hug his mother and let her go.
"You take care of yourself," she whispered.
"You too, Mom."
His father hugged him next. No manly handshake, but a bruising bear hug. "I'm proud of you," he told him. "Now, go. Don't worry about us."
Easier said than done, Zack thought, climbing into the buggy.
He watched the farmhouse until it disappeared from his mirrors and couldn't help feeling like a coward for leaving them.
"We can go back."
He looked over, felt his heart break a little when he realized she was crying.
"Forward," he told her, reaching over to brush away her tears. "So that we can go back."
AN: I love Mama Fair. Ahhh, so much for normalcy. Back to the quest at hand. It was nice while it lasted.
Nanaki's home and a Buggy breakdown coming up.
THANK YOU all who are still reading and reviewing and for the emails and encouragement--here and on other sites--you guys are the absolute best! You guys are the greatest readers ever, I am so convinced of that. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter. **many hugs**