Hero

Claire closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. There just wasn't enough. No matter how much she juggled the sums and tinkered with the figures, there just wasn't enough money to pay for everything. There were things they could sell, of course, and if it came right down to it, maybe they could sell the house, but sooner or later they'd be back where they started. Besides it'd just about kill her to have to sell the house and she knew that no matter what had happened this place, this house, was home for her and Serah and nowhere else would every be the same. She sighed and squared her shoulders. She might not be able to bring their parents back, but she'd be damned before she let Serah lose anything else.

But what could she do? Her job down at the general store paid a little, enough really that if she were on her own then she'd be able to live decently, not well, but decently. But the thing was, she wasn't living on her own. There was Serah to look after, not to mention all the money they had to spend on food and clothes and a hundred other things she'd never really paid much attention to back when their parents had been alive.

And then there was Serah's school. Out West, especially in a middle of nowhere, good for nothing town like Bodhum, schooling didn't come cheap. Claire herself had already stopped going to the school in town to try and support the both of them, but there was no way she'd let Serah skip out on school. Her little sister was smart, the kind of smart that could take a person places, places far away from all the dust and grime and grit. Serah would go to school and she'd go places that Claire – fifteen and doing almost anything just to make ends meet – could never even dream of.

She felt the prickle of tears and forced them back. She'd cried enough already and tears wouldn't help or put food on the table. It was just, well, she knew she wasn't stupid. Back when she'd still been going to school, all the learning, all those numbers and letters and everything had come easy to her, just like they'd come easy to Serah. But someone needed to work and Serah was too young for that, so that just left Claire. So instead of school she spent her days helping the old man who owned the general store stack shelves or work through paperwork and when she couldn't do that, she'd drop by the post office and help around with the cleaning and filing, all the time dreaming of books and things and a future she knew full well she'd never have. But Serah would get that future. She'd make sure of that.

Even if she had to work her hands raw and break her back, she'd make sure that Serah would have the chance to get out of Bodhum, to really make something of herself. Their parents would have wanted that and right now it was the only thing she could do, maybe the only thing she'd ever be able to do. No matter what happened, she'd look after Serah.

Just then, the front door swung open and Claire forced a smile onto her face. Serah couldn't ever know how bad things were. If she did, then she'd just worry herself sick and right now, Claire was doing enough worrying for the both of them.

"Claire!" Serah dropped her bag and rushed over to hug her. "You're home early. How was work?"

Claire felt her smile shake a little and hoped her sister couldn't see through it. "It was okay. Things are a little slow, so the old man cut my hours back a bit, but don't worry, I've still got a job." She grinned. "Besides, I'm sure I can find another job if things get tough. There's always work for the willing."

Serah nodded and Claire was suddenly glad that her sister was so naïve. The fact was, there wasn't really much work at all for a fifteen year-old girl without much of an education, at least not work of the decent or legal sort. "You're always taking care of my, Claire. Why don't you let me help? I could maybe try and find some work too, you know, maybe cut back on school a little…"

Claire shook her head. "You're not cutting back on your schooling, Serah. You're smart, you know, and that counts for a lot, so you just worry about your schooling and leave everything else to me."

"I guess." Serah still looked a little unsure, but Claire knew that in the end her younger sister would take her word for it. She always did.

Serah moved forward and Claire opened her arms to hold her. Claire had never been too big on hugging or any of that, but Serah had always liked being held and with their parents gone there wasn't anyone else to do it. Besides, there was something kind of soothing about it. Serah was the only thing she had left in the whole word and there were times when Claire would wake up scared, really scared, that something had happened to her and she'd be alone, all alone. Holding Serah, feeling the softness of her hair and gentle rise and fall of her chest against her, let Claire know that Serah was still there, was still real. She wasn't alone. She hadn't failed to protect her little sister.

"Now, why don't you tell me about school?" Claire ran one hand through Serah's hair. It was something their mother had done for both of them and even if her hands were clumsy in comparison to their mother's, it felt good to do it. "Well, how are things going?"

Serah sighed and snuggled closer. "I'm doing really well. Mister Gast says I'm just about topping the class even though everyone else is at least a few years older than me!"

"That's good," Claire said as she ruffled Serah's hair again. Mister Gast was a good man who'd come from back east. Apparently, he'd really been something there, but the pressure had got to be too much for him, or things had gotten tricky, and so he'd come out West to start again. He helped them out as much as he could, getting them used books for Serah's schooling and the like, but there was only so much he could do with times being tough. "You keep working hard, Serah, and you can be anything you please."

Serah pulled away and grinned up at Claire. "Well, Mister Gast did say that if I kept doing well he might write some people he knows back east, maybe try to get me a place in one of the universities over in Eden City." She blushed and looked away, but the excitement was easy to see.

"I'm proud of you, Serah," Claire said softly. "And I know mother and father would be proud of you too." This time Claire's smile was real. Serah was only twelve and already thinking about university, and not just any university either, one of the good ones over in Eden City. If Serah could just make it there, then everything would be worth it. She'd be able to go anywhere she wanted and she'd be safe. It was almost too much to hope for, really.

"But I wonder," Serah murmured as she burrowed back into Claire's embrace. "How are we going to pay for everything? There are scholarships and things, but even then…"

Claire stiffened but forced herself to relax. She hated hearing that note of worry in her sister's voice, that hint of fear about things to come. "Don't you worry about a thing, Serah. I'll look after it all. I'll make sure that we've got all the money we need."

Serah shifted so that her head was under Claire's chin and when she spoke her words were a murmur that ran right through Claire's body. "Thank you, Claire, you know, for everything."

But as the weeks rolled on things only got tougher. The dry spell that had hit the area had only gotten worse. People were calling it a full-blown drought and pretty much everyone was suffering. Droughts killed off crops and made it hard for ranchers and the like to raise a decent herd of cattle, and that meant less money to go around, since most people either worked with farmers or ranchers, or relied on their gil to make a living, like the general store.

It wasn't long before the old man who ran the general store let Claire go. It hurt, especially since it had been the best paying job she'd had for a while, but she couldn't blame him. Nobody was buying and he was struggling to find enough money for himself, let alone a girl looking to get paid well enough to support herself and her kid sister.

She was careful not to let Serah know though, and so she spent her days around town hunting for another job, but work was scarce everywhere. The best she could rustle up were a few days work at the post office, but even that didn't last long, and no one else was hiring. She got to thinking that maybe she should leave town, look for work in one of the bigger places, maybe Midgar Town, but she dropped the idea pretty quickly. There was no way that she could leave Serah on her own and it wasn't like she could take Serah with her either. And that wasn't even considering the fact that if she moved someplace else, she'd have to pay for her room and board.

Still, there a few people around town who'd known their parents and been pretty friendly, and she managed to get work from them every now and then. It wasn't nearly enough to cover everything, but it was enough to put some food on the table. Not quite enough food for two growing girls, but enough at least for one of them to eat well. She could only hope that Serah wouldn't notice.

Things came to a head one summer evening. It was hot and muggy and she'd been out all day scrubbing floors and sweeping porches and even then she'd hardly made anything. Then she'd come home to get some dinner ready while Serah read through some books that Mister Gast had given her to push her ahead in her schooling.

"What are you making?" Serah asked.

Claire looked down into the pot in front of her and tried to block out the smell. It was a recipe their mother had passed on to her before things… well… before everything had gone bad and it smelled like good old times and happiness. There was enough in the pot for Serah with a little bit left over for her.

"I'm making mother's soup," Claire said before she emptied everything into two bowls and carried them over to the dinner table.

Serah put her books away and it wasn't long before she was getting stuck right into the food. Claire smiled. She knew for experience that a good solid day's studying could make a person tired. The smile faded from her face though when Serah stopped and looked from her own bowl to Claire's. "How come I've got more than you?"

Claire smiled as best she could. "Don't worry. I had something to eat while I was working. Besides, I'm not all that hungry anyway." It was a lie, of course, but she thought she told it pretty decently.

Still, Serah looked a little doubtful. "Are you sure?" She offered her bowl. "I could give you some of mine."

Claire pushed Serah's bowl back toward her and nodded firmly. "I'm sure. Now eat up, Serah. You've got school tomorrow, don't you?"

Claire stayed up late that night. Beside her, Serah's breathing was soft and even. It was a little odd, maybe, for a twelve year old to not want to sleep alone, but Serah had nightmares sometimes about what had happened and Claire was quick to realise that Serah slept better if they were together. It helped Claire think, as well, and focus. Lying next to Serah, just listening to her breathe and just watching her dream good dreams – it was enough to get her through each day.

Work was going to dry up completely. She could feel it. The drought had only gotten worse and even the people who'd been friendly with her parents, people who wanted to help, wouldn't be able to afford to take her on for much longer. There some savings left over, but she knew they wouldn't last long, especially once winter came and they had to worry about keeping warm.

She felt like laughing. There just wasn't anything to do and she supposed she should be scared, but really, what good would that do? But then a wave of coldness swept through her and she closed her eyes. Well, there was still one place she could go, one place that would hire her and pay well, even if she wasn't well educated or well connected. It was the one place that was still doing good business, even though money was pretty tight. After all, men had needs.

A tear trickled down her cheek. To tell the truth, she'd known that it would end this way. She wasn't stupid and she'd always had a knack for working out how things would go. But looking at Serah sleeping beside her, she tried to tell herself that it wouldn't be so bad. At least she'd get the money they needed.

The next evening, she waited till Serah was asleep and then slipped out of bed. As quietly as she could, she went to their parents' room. It was just like she remembered, because really, they just hadn't had the strength to go in and sort through everything. Looking at herself in the mirror, she nodded slowly. She was a little shorter than their mother, but she was tall for fifteen and still growing, so the difference wasn't all that big. It helped too that she was what most people called pretty. People had always liked her eyes and her hair and while she wasn't quite so buxom as some people, her figure was good enough to draw the eye whenever she wore a dress.

What did it matter, anyway? After all, what did men care so long as she was there and warm and willing? Blinking back tears, she went over to where her mother's clothes were kept and took out her mother's prettiest dress. It was something she'd always dreamed of putting on, but right now, she just felt sick inside. She put on the dress and then went over to put on some cosmetics. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be older when she put this dress on and her mother was supposed to be helping her with it. She wasn't supposed to be wearing it to go look for work at a bordello.

But life didn't always go the way it was supposed to and right now they really needed the money and the bordello was the only place she could get it. So she'd go there and she'd do what needed doing because she was the only one who could. For Serah, it would be worth it.

Once she was done getting dressed up, she took a moment to stop off at the door to their room. She took one last long look at Serah. Her little sister was there sleeping peacefully with a smile on her face and Claire found herself smiling too. Somehow, it would be fine. She would make it fine. Then she was gone, turning and walking out the door and across to the edge of town where the bordello was.

Each step she took felt like a hundred miles and she knew that there wouldn't be any going back from what she was about to do. She'd seen how the girls in the bordello ended up. Most of them only lasted a couple of years before sickness took them, or else something inside them just plain died and they faded away. A few of them seemed to like the work and got along just fine, but she wasn't sure how much of that was real and how much of it was an act. She could hope she'd be one of them, or that she'd last long enough.

She stopped for a moment and looked down the street at the bordello. It was a gaudy place, lit up even though it was the middle of the night and she could hear the sounds of revelry coming from inside it and see dancing shapes through the windows. If she hadn't known what it was, she might have thought it a decent place, but she knew better. Still, she might as well get used to it. She stepped forward, heart hardened and soul already withering.

"You're a bit young to be heading off to a place like that."

She froze. She knew that voice. Everybody in town knew that voice.

"Sheriff Amodar," she said slowly as she turned to try and find him. Even with the moonlight it was a hard task, but he seemed to be propped up against one of the buildings, just watching the street. "Evening."

The sheriff pushed away from the building he was leaning against and strode out into the street where she could see him properly. He was a tall man, not the tallest she'd seen, but there was a strength about him that made him seem solid as a rooted oak. To be sure, he was heavily built, and in his younger days, she figured he would've been quite muscular, but right now he was a little round at the edges, and his dark hair was mottled with streaks of grey. All the same though, he wasn't a man to mess around with, she knew that much.

Amodar's gaze flicked over to the bordello and then back to her. "You weren't thinking of heading over there were you? That isn't a place for someone like you."

"What I do is my business, sheriff," she said quietly and then even more softly, "Besides, what do you know about me?"

But rather than look angry, Amodar just smiled. It was a little smile, more of a quirking of the lips, really, but there was an honesty to it that Claire could not ignore. "That's true enough, Claire Farron. In fact, I didn't really know all that much about you until a few weeks ago. But I like to keep a track of things in town, and you've been all over town doing odd jobs and things." He paused and his gaze grew serious. "I wondered what a kid your age was doing. You're smart, or at least, that's what people said, so you should be in school. Then I remembered what happened to your parents and I realised you don't have much choice."

Claire felt the tears prickle at her eyes again, but turned her chin up. "Speak plainly, sheriff, what do you want?"

"For starters, do you really think this'll help?" Amodar asked. "Like I said, you're smart. You've got to know that working there won't end up the way you want. Sure, you might be okay for a while, but that place will kill you on the inside and you know it."

Claire clenched her fists. "I haven't got a choice. There's no one else in town offering work and things don't pay for themselves. There's food to worry about and clothes, and Serah has to go to school."

"Do you think that sister of yours would want you doing this?" he asked.

She bit her lip. "Maybe not, but I'm doing this for her." She closed her eyes. "It's the only way she'll ever reach her dreams, the only way she'll ever make something of herself."

"And what about you, Claire? What about you making something of yourself, what about your dreams?" His voice was soft now, and gentle too, and his eyes were so kind that Claire almost wanted to weep.

"Dreams can't put food on the table, sheriff," Claire snarled, and her voice was so vicious that it startled her. She took one step forward and squared her shoulders. "Well, maybe you know a bit about me, sheriff, but I've heard about you too. They say you were a marshal before you headed here and a good one too. Tell me, sheriff, when was the last time you went hungry? When was the last time you had to wonder where your money would be coming from or what you'd have to do to get it?"

She tried to shove past him, but Amodar moved, surprisingly fast for a man his size, and blocked her path again. "You're right, Claire, dreams can't put food on the table, but dreams are what keep you alive inside, they're what keep you going when all the strengths gone from you and you're not sure you can go on." He pinned her with his gaze. "Food may keep your body going, but dreams are what keep you living on the inside, they're what your heart needs, what your soul needs."

She wanted to tell him he was wrong, but she couldn't find the words.

"What's the point, Claire, of living on the outside if you're dead on the inside?" The sharpness was gone from his gaze and Amodar reached out to put one hand on her shoulder. She flinched at first, but she could feel the warmth of his hand and the kindness seemed to flow through him into her.

"What else can I do?" she asked at last, her voice hoarse. "There's no one else offering work and I just… I just… Serah… and…" She looked down and realised that she'd scrunched up twin handfuls of her mother's dress in her fists and dragged in a deep, deep breath. "What do I do?"

"Well, how about you come work for me?" Amodar said. "How does that sound?"

Claire's eyes widened and for several long moments she couldn't speak. Come work for him… "What do you mean?" she asked slowly and then her eyes narrowed. "What kind of work?"

Amodar's smile was gentle. "Not the kind you're thinking." He shrugged. "I'm not a young man anymore Claire and in a town like this there's a lot of work around the sheriff's office that needs doing. I'm talking paperwork, you know, sorting out files and taking dictation." He seemed to notice her shock and he smiled. "Remember, I asked around, and Mister Gast was very firm about you being bright. There're also other things, like keeping the place clean and running errands." He chuckled. "From what I've heard you've picked fights a couple of times too, so I figure you won't mind too much keeping my guns in working order though I won't be too pleased if you go out and shoot somebody."

"Why?" Claire asked. She was crying now, but she didn't care one bit. For the first time in so long, she believed that maybe things might go right again. "Why are you doing this? Why give me the job? There have to be other people…"

"Maybe," Amodar said. "But when you get right down to it, they're not the same as you. Deep down inside, right where it really matters, Claire, you're a good person, an honest person, the kind of person an old man can trust to do the right thing." He caught and held her gaze again, made sure she understood that what he was about to say was very important. "I want to clean this town up, Claire, I want to make it a safe place to raise a family and the kind of place where a person can be proud to say they've come from. I'm the sheriff here and that'll help, but the job's too big for just me." He smiled. "Sure, you're not full grown just yet, but that'll come with time."

"How can you be sure?" Claire asked. "How can you know that I'm the right person for the job?"

"Didn't I just tell you why?" Amodar said. "Besides, I fancy myself a pretty good judge of character and seeing you now and talking with you, I can't shake the feeling that this may be the surest bet I've ever made." He chuckled softly. "Fact is, changing the whole town won't come easy and I'll have to start somewhere and I can't think of any place better than to start with you."

Claire swallowed. This was real. This was happening. He really wanted her to work for him. "How… how much can you pay?"

"You tell me," Amodar said. "How much do you need?"

Her eyes widened. "What if I lie to you?"

He shook his head. "I'd know if you lied, but I don't think you will. You're not that kind of person, Claire, and you know it too."

"I… I'll come work for you," Claire stuttered before she threw herself at him. "I'll come with for you!"

She must have taken him off guard, because he actually stumbled a fraction and had to catch himself. Still the laughter that spilled out of him was friendly enough and he grinned as he pulled away and ruffled her hair in a way that had her itching to slap his hands away.

"Good. I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow morning, Claire. I open the sheriff's office at six each morning and you'd better be there." He sobered. "I won't lie to you, the work will be tough and I figure you'll probably hate me some days, but I'll give you the wage you need and then some." His expression softened again and Claire wondered if maybe he had children somewhere and was seeing them when he looked at her. "Now head on home, Claire. The next time I see you in a dress like that, you'd better be engaged or married."

And then he was gone, faded back into the shadow cast by one of the buildings. For what felt like forever, Claire just stood there, staring at the bordello and what could have been and thinking about what had actually happened. Then she turned and walked back the way she'd come. She was going home, back to Serah, back to her dreams.

X X X

Author's Notes

First of all I neither own Final Fantasy nor am I making any money off this.

In case it wasn't clear, this chapter was set in the past, specifically Lightning's (Claire's) past. If you want, you can think of it as a kind of counterpart to the chapter where I showed a bit of Fang and Vanille's past. I'll admit that this chapter is a bit darker than some of the others, but given the subject matter, I think that makes sense. I really do feel that Lighting would do just about anything for Serah. I also wanted to explain just why Lightning holds Amodar in such high regard.

For those of you who are curious, Mister Gast is a reference to Professor Gast from FF VII.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.