Waiting for Her to Come Home
By solo player sab
There was something bittersweet about the white, whimsical snowflakes dancing against the black, looming sky.
Tifa Lockhart, remembering to exhale, blinked as her breath took shape in the air, averting her gaze from the sky and shaking her head softly to displace the snowflakes collecting on her brow.
Against the black sky, the snow fell carelessly, meeting a vast, white blanket that gave the ground a heavenly glow. So much snow blanketed the streets that it lit every crevice of the dark city.
It was a silent, visual dichotomy; dark, yet bright; lonely, yet hopeful.
A small smile tugged at her otherwise tightly pressed lips as she gazed at the sight and she wasn't sure if it was a smile of genuine warmth or of chilling bitterness.
This was a new routine for Tifa; every night after closing she took a quiet, solitary walk around the block of the newly rebuilt Seventh Heaven, and while one would think this time to herself would be a welcome solace, her thoughts were just as rowdy as the boisterous customers she dealt with all day.
Something was different about tonight's routine, though, and Tifa knew it.
Sighing, she shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets as she half-mindedly kicked a mound of snow while turning the corner, her footsteps crackling softly under her boots. This was the longest and therefore favorite leg of her walk. Every night, she took her time on this stretch, as two more turns would take her back to the bar; back upstairs; back to her room, which was across the hall from –
Tifa sniffled as her nose grew cold in the air and she wrapped her scarf around her face. She felt a relieving warmth as she breathed into its cloth.
It's not like she was trying to avoid it, she reasoned with herself. It was just that she had grown comfortable with being by herself. She had the kids, of course, but otherwise, she lived a solitary life. She would get up in the mornings by herself. She would get the kids ready for school, clean the house, run the bar; she lived her life while raising two little ones, all by herself.
But it was fine, and it was normal, and she was used to it. She had grown used to it.
It had been a few months now since Sephiroth's re-emergence and subsequent downfall, and although everything seemed to end happily ever after and a certain swordsman was back at the Seventh Heaven, back in her life, Tifa didn't know why it still didn't feel right.
This is what we all wanted, she mused, her eyes falling to the ground. He's home now. Everything is okay now.
But something wasn't okay and for some reason home didn't feel like home to Tifa. Not anymore.
Cloud Strife had been nothing but wonderful since his return and the kids, naturally, were overjoyed. He resumed Strife's Delivery Service but only took jobs that didn't take him very far for very long. He helped Denzel with his math homework and cooked Marlene's favorite dinner when Tifa had her hands full with the bar. His cooking wasn't very good, but Marlene said it was the thought that counted. He even helped at the bar when things got a little too busy.
But every night without fail, Tifa sent Cloud upstairs an hour before closing. She nagged him to rest for his early morning deliveries and she refused to relent until Cloud begrudgingly walked upstairs. It wasn't until she heard his bedroom door close that Tifa felt free to resume her nightly routine: clean up, lock up, and walk out.
She did something else tonight too, but she shrugged those thoughts away quickly. She would deal with that later.
Sighing again, her eyes wandered back up to the sky. It was the same as it always was: the same sky she gazed at while she waited for him upon that well as a young girl in a village long gone; the sky they sat under in the shadow of the Highwind, before that perilous battle; the same sky she gazed at through the window at Marlene and Denzel's bedsides, waiting for him, wondering if he would ever come home.
But he did come home, and everything was okay now. Tifa was glad the kids convinced her to keep his room as-is. They were right, he came home, and it was convenient that his room was there, waiting for him.
She flinched. Convenient.
That's all I ever really am, aren't I? Tifa stopped in her tracks, the tightness in her chest bubbling up into her throat as she swallowed slowly. Her gaze fell from the sky, lost its focus, and dispersed into nothingness.
She was halfway down the block and she stood silently, staring at nothing, remembering the sight of a younger Cloud who had lost his mind in Mideel.
How convenient was it that she didn't—couldn't leave him there? That she insisted on the rest of the group going on without her so she could stay behind and care for him?
And how convenient was it that she was with him as they toppled into the Lifestream, and despite her own fear and pain, single-handedly pulled him back to reality?
And as Sephiroth fell the first time, how convenient was it that she had nowhere else to go but to stay with Cloud and assume a motherly role in this makeshift family they created together?
How utterly convenient was it that she was there, able to pick up the pieces, to care for the kids, for their home, when he left them to find his peace?
Without realizing it, Tifa was walking again. The soft crackling of her footsteps quickened over the thin layer of snow. She turned the corner, swinging her weight forcefully, as if fighting off the burden nagging at her shoulder.
And of course, as Sephiroth fell the second time, how convenient was it that she was still there, able to welcome him home with open arms?
Tifa didn't realize how warm she had gotten. With a frustrated grunt, she forcefully unraveled her scarf from around her neck and quickened her stride down the block. Her thoughts were getting the best of her again, but hopefully for the last time.
Another turn around the last corner and Tifa found herself at the storefront of her beloved Seventh Heaven. All was dark save for a soft yellow glow emanating through the windows, from the Christmas lights that Marlene had been so excited to hang throughout the bar. Tifa liked to leave these on as she took her nightly walks. The warm hue brought her a strange sense of comfort and nostalgia, reminding her of her childhood.
Fumbling with her keys, Tifa slowly let herself through the front door, holding her breath as she locked it behind her quietly. This was always the most difficult part of her nightly routine: reentering without waking anyone upstairs.
Once safe, she exhaled and slipped her coat off her shoulders, tossing it onto a nearby chair with her scarf. Standing in the glow of the yellow lights, she glanced around the main bar area, noting everything was as she left it: high chairs stacked, chairs flipped on top of the tables, pint glasses washed and shelved away, countertops wiped down, duffel bag ready at the bottom of the stairs…
Wait.
Tifa froze as her eyes shot back to the brown duffel bag sitting at the bottom of the staircase. Brows furrowing, she tilted her head uncertainly. What in the world…?
She slowly walked toward the staircase, crouching to her ankles and cautiously picking up the strap of the bag. I thought I left this upstairs—
Her eyes narrowed. Someone was there.
In a flare of motion, the martial artist kicked off the stair rail and launched into a back flip, sailing over the head of the intruder with incredible speed. Impulse taking over, Tifa wound her elbow back as her foot touched the ground, launching her clenched fist at—
Cloud yelped and ducked, throwing his arms over his face. In a millisecond, Tifa snapped out of her battle instinct, gasped, and pulled her fist back before making contact with his jaw. The fighter in her left as quickly as she came and Tifa stumbled backward, pulling her weight in the opposite direction that her momentum was taking her.
"Oof!"
Tifa blinked as she fell clumsily on her bottom, gasping for breath as adrenaline pumped through her veins. She stared up in disbelief at her blonde companion standing above her. The faint glow of the Christmas lights revealed a sheepish look on his face.
"Really, Cloud?" Tifa gasped incredulously, placing her palm on her chest.
"I'm sorry – I didn't mean to sneak up on you."
Guiltily, Cloud offered a hand and Tifa took it, hoisting herself from the floor as she patted her clothes down, chuckling slightly.
She sighed as she turned to him, "Where did you come from? I almost decked you – I thought you were robbing me."
Cloud rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes. "I was checking on the restroom for you," he began, gesturing toward the hallway behind him, "Y'know, making sure it was clean." He glanced up at her face and she arched an eyebrow.
"You were cleaning the restroom at two thirty in the morning, Cloud?" Tifa teased with a playful smirk. Just act normal, she urged, like you always do.
Uncomfortable, Cloud switched his weight from one leg to the other. "I was…looking for something to do while waiting for you to come home."
Tifa's smirk disappeared. She almost missed a beat before quickly blurting, "Oh! You didn't have to wait up, Cloud!" Her voice went up an octave and she laughed uneasily, "I was just taking out the trash."
"No, you weren't."
Caught off guard, she blinked tentatively at Cloud and his eyes met hers, sternly. He didn't appear to be in any laughing mood.
She swallowed hard. Why did she feel so guilty – as if she had been caught for something?
Cloud gazed at her with a seriousness she didn't recognize. Without a word, he reached for the leg of a chair resting on a nearby table and he placed it on the floor. Tifa watched as he settled into the chair slowly and heavily, as if preparing for a deep conversation…one that Tifa was certain she didn't want to have.
The brunette took a sharp breath in resistance. In an attempt to flip this situation her way, she smiled meekly and said, "All right, you got me." She exhaled another fake giggle, "It was pretty stressful today, so I took a walk. Just a quick breather."
"I know."
Tifa paused again, unsure of where to go next. She caught a glimpse of the duffel bag on the floor behind him. Was it too naïve to think that maybe he didn't see it?
Faintly, she added, "Sometimes I like to take walks after closing – "
"I wait for you every night."
Tifa's voice caught in her throat.
"Oh."
Her mind raced with thoughts incoherent. The jig was up. Was it every night he waited? Of course, that's what he said. What about that one night– yes, every night. Did he hear her on nights she came home crying? What about the night she came home so angry, she wasn't sure her pillow muffled the thrashing of her knuckles well enough? Could he hear her the nights she spent with too many bottles of wine, when she stumbled upstairs, drunk and despaired? Yes, yes, and yes. Shit, shit, shit.
Smile melting away, her eyes stared into his and Cloud noticed that for the first time in months, she looked at him soberly and undisguised.
Defeated, Tifa reached for the chair closest to his, placing it down facing him as he watched her carefully. She sat and sighed deeply, hands in her lap, waiting for him to start. There was no way in hell she was going to begin this conversation. If he wanted it, he can start –
"I found a packed bag in your room."
Tifa winced. First thing out of the gate, she mused, disappointed but somehow expecting nothing less from this man she's known all her life to say a whole lot in very little words.
She stole a glance at the bag on the floor. "Yeah," she replied, simply.
A momentary silence.
"Why?"
Tifa's stomach tightened and she pressed her eyes shut. This was not supposed to happen. She was never supposed to have to answer that question.
What the hell do you expect me to say? She thought to herself, rubbing her temples firmly. That I'm tired of being the smiley, spunky Tifa that I'm expected to be all the time? That I've grown so resentful of you? Of myself?
Stillness engulfed the two fighters as they sat in the dim bar, lit ironically with cheerful string lights. Her mind raced, but Tifa couldn't get anything out.
His voice was stern. "Tifa…"
"I'm leaving."
Softly, directly, matter-of-factly. The words came out more simply than Tifa expected. A tough armor seemed to form over her chest as her expression hardened and she stared into his eyes firmly as if daring him to respond. Frankly, she knew there was very little he could say and there was a bitter part of her that was curious to see what he would come up with.
But as powerful as Cloud was, he seemed to shrink in his chair, all earlier sternness slipping away from him immediately. His eyes softened, glistening over into a look reminiscent of a sad young boy.
Tifa was a bit startled by his sudden vulnerability and also a tad annoyed. He was supposed to get angry with her. He was supposed to argue with her. He was supposed to say, 'What about the kids,' and she was supposed to reply, 'That didn't bother you when you left.'
Her hands tightened into fists. Don't look at me like that. Don't make this difficult.
"I…" His voice came out soft, pleading, "…don't want you to go."
Anger and dread overwhelmed her and she glared at him, her hand reaching for the fabric of her shirt and clasping it as if trying to tear the anguish out.
"You," Tifa began slowly, her voice low and hoarse, "are so unfair."
Realizing he struck a nerve, Cloud leaned forward in a silent plea. "I'm sorry," he blurted frantically, "I know, I'm the last person who can say th—"
Tifa cut him off. "Do you remember what you did when I said the same thing to you?"
Cloud swallowed painfully. He knew where this was going.
"Nothing. You did nothing." She looked away. "Did you even know I said it? I was talking to your voicemail, after all, since you ignored all my calls. Maybe you didn't even care to listen to them." The words came out like a hiss.
He sank lower in his chair. "I did listen…"
"Why is it that when I say that to you, it's so easy for you to do nothing, but when you say that to me, my heart shatters?" She questioned, more to herself than him. "It's so damn unfair."
Cloud fell silent. Unable to sit still, Tifa stood from her chair and walked to the bar countertop, placing her hands along its surface. She felt tears brimming but she knew she wouldn't cry. She had no more tears to spend.
"Look, I know why you left and I understand. You needed to find your peace and I get that," Tifa muttered, "And it seems like you found it somehow, and I'm happy for you."
She paused and turned to face him. "But not everyone got that privilege, Cloud."
Slumped over with his elbows on his knees, he seemed ashamed to look at her.
Tears did not flow but the truth did in all its seething glory. Her honesty startled her at first, but it didn't matter anymore. This was the last time she'd see him, anyway.
"Aerith was my friend too."
Cloud grimaced at the name.
"I was guilty too. Did you realize that? I feel like I failed her too. But we had to live to be forgiven. Isn't that what we talked about with Barrett? So I held it together. For you, for the kids—"
Suddenly, Cloud stood, his chair screeching behind him. "And I admired you for that, Tifa," he interjected, a sudden courage overcoming him, "You had such strength, the type of resilience that I never—"
"I'm tired of being strong." Tifa's voice cracked, exasperated.
Cloud's heart sank and he took a worried step toward her. He stopped short, hesitating.
"I just want to be weak, for once. I want to run away, too."
Tifa turned back toward the bar, eyes flitting across their family photos pinned behind rows of half-empty liquor bottles. Cloud inched closer behind her, hand outstretched, failing to muster the courage to touch her.
"You know the worst part of all of this, Cloud?" Tifa glanced over her shoulder.
"I'm jealous," she whispered and slowly turned to face him. "I miss her, I know I've failed her, but deep down, I'm jealous! Do you know how twisted that makes me—" The volume of her voice rose steadily and Cloud could hear his pulse ringing in his ears. "—to be guilty of her death yet jealous of her memory? But I can't help it, because when it comes to the one person I have left on this Planet, I will always be second best. And since you've come home, every day is just a reminder of that."
Tifa took a deep, exasperated breath. "I'm being selfish, I know, but I need this now. I'm exhausted, Cloud. I'm tired of being your fall back. I'm tired of my heart shattering at the fact that I wasn't ever good enough for you."
Her voice echoed through the empty bar until an eerie silence descended upon the childhood friends.
Faintly, tiredly, she concluded, "And frankly, I'm just tired of being the girl waiting in the background of your story."
Decisively, Tifa gathered her coat and scarf and draped them hastily over herself as she grabbed and swung her bag around her shoulder. Her face flushing, she mused about what an overly dramatic exit this was – but this had to end somehow. She stole a glance at Cloud, who had stumbled back into his chair, distraught.
Tifa brushed by him, mumbling a simple, "Bye," and trudged toward the front door.
As she unlocked the bolt and pushed the door open, a whimper escaped her lips. This wasn't supposed to happen this way. She was supposed to enjoy her last, slow walk around the block. She was supposed to memorize each crevice of this bar she had worked so hard to rebuild. She was supposed to walk upstairs and kiss the children goodbye as they slept soundly…
"Tifa!"
Cloud's voice pierced the chilled air and interrupted her thoughts. She felt a hand grasp her forearm and she resisted, through gritted teeth, every urge to react defensively. Tifa turned to face him, his eyes glowing green in the midst of a world of white, and she stepped backwards into the street, boots crunching in the fresh snow. Cloud let go of her carefully, following her steps slowly.
"Tifa…" He started but hesitated again.
The brunette stared at him with large, exasperated eyes. As he faltered, she took a step back, pivoting to walk away. Bitterness lodged in her chest, she knew he couldn't follow her forever.
Seeing her slip away, Cloud took another step toward her, calling, "Wait!"
His voice echoed and Tifa stopped, glancing at him half-heartedly.
"Don't you remember?" He started, his breath taking shape in the air. "It was because of you that I wanted to join SOLDIER…" He trailed off but quickly regained his composure. "And, I ended up getting really screwed up, but—" He chuckled cynically and shook his head, "—but it was because of you that I found myself again. Because of you I survived through all of this."
Casting all hesitation to the wayside, Cloud reached for her wrist, limp in the cold. She was turned away, but he pulled her tenderly to him.
"Without you, there wouldn't be a story, Tifa."
A sharp pang gripped her heart and she winced inwardly. What was he trying to do?
"I think about Nibelheim a lot, and our promise on that well..." Tifa nodded along slowly, as if saying, me, too. "I was so determined to join SOLDIER, to impress you…but then everything else happened. And I think about how you—" His gaze grew in intensity and he enunciated his words with gentle force, "—you were always there for me. Saving me."
Tifa studied him, awestruck, chest tightening, wondering where the man of few words went.
Cloud chuckled, "I went away, trying to become your hero…but you ended up becoming mine."
Each word seemed to constrict her heart, one by one.
Cloud took a step back, suddenly realizing how close he was standing to her. Shyness overcoming him once more, he rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze to mounds of snow surrounding them.
"And you're right, I—I did do a lot of selfish things. I abandoned you and everyone who cared for me. I hurt you so much." Cloud seemed to cringe at his own words, but he proceeded with caution. He looked at her again. "But you're wrong about a lot of things, too."
A short silence. All of the words were gone from Tifa's lips as she could do nothing but stand there, snow falling around her, listening.
"For as long as I've known you…you've always been too good for me, Tifa." A blush spread across his face. "You're perfect. Even in the way you face your demons—your guilt and your anguish." He gestured at the Seventh Heaven behind him. "The way you rebuilt this bar, and how you raise the kids, and the way you take care of me…" As he spoke, his confidence grew and a hopeful tint shined in his eyes. "And it was from your strength that I was able to live on."
In an instant, however, Cloud grew sullen once more. "So when the geostigma got me, it…" His voice faltered, "…it just made me realize how imperfect I am. And I couldn't stand to sit here, helplessly, and make you save me again. So, I left." Pained, Cloud's expression pleaded with her.
"It wasn't about you being second best. It was about me being too weak and undeserving of the only person who matters to me."
Cloud looked at her, hopefully, silently begging her to say something. But heartache, relief, regret, and hope intertwined in a whirlwind of conflicting emotion, and Tifa was paralyzed. She felt as if she was in the Lifestream again, only now it was her who was lost in a discombobulated state of mind, unsure of reality.
"I don't blame you, though," he murmured, then gestured down at the path Tifa liked to walk. "Every night while I wait for you, I wonder if this is the night you decide to go – and I can't sleep until you're home."
She cringed and cursed herself silently for being so damn readable.
"I knew this night would come eventually, and I know it makes me a hypocrite to ask you to stay, but…" Cloud took her hands in his.
She flinched at his touch and looked away. His hands were surprisingly warm in this weather. There was silence again but still, she said nothing.
"Have you forgotten?"
She didn't think Cloud's voice could get any softer, but it did, and it beckoned her gaze back to him.
"You're much more cheerful and strong," he began, and Tifa immediately recognized this reprise of a conversation they had long ago, when they shared a bed shrouded in moonlight. "If you've forgotten the way you were, then I'll be there to remind you."
Back when he had first uttered those words, they meant everything to her. In the present, she felt a familiar tug at her heart strings and the bitterness that shrouded her heart began to slowly dissolve like a flame to ice. She cursed herself again. This wasn't supposed to happen, either.
"So, please, Tifa. If you need to find yourself, then do it here, at home with me, so I can help remind you."
Tifa's vision began to blur. She was breaking. Shit.
"Please…let me save you, for once."
A single tear threatened to spill onto her cheek but Tifa swatted it away hastily. She took a clunky step back away from Cloud, pulling back her hands, her face despairing and her nose scarlet from the cold. She shook her head vigorously.
Cloud slowly let his arms go limp at his sides, defeat dawning on his face. A part of him expected this, but that made it no less painful.
"If you really have to go, then..." His voice continued to quiver, "I'll wait for you to come home. Just like every night, I'll wait for you."
Tifa turned away, her back facing him. Damn it, she thought, frustrated, just walk away, Lockhart. Take a step. You're done with this, remember?
"And just so you know, Tifa…"
She was frozen, unable to move. Walk away. Go. Before he says anything else. There's nothing else he can say.
"I heard you that night."
Her heart sank. What?
"And I do. I really do."
Tifa jerked her body toward him, eyes wide. What is he talking about!?
Reading her mind, Cloud closed the gap between them again, answering, "That night. You asked me if I loved Marlene."
Oh, no...
"You asked me something else before that, too."
Tifa panicked; her breathing, scattered and unsteady; her eyes, darting erratically, from Cloud, to the Seventh Heaven, to the sky, to the snow. A sudden chill overcame her and Tifa wrapped her arms around herself, as if suddenly realizing she was standing in the freezing cold.
Sensing her anxiety, Cloud placed a gloved hand warily on her shoulder. He watched for her reaction, mindful of the distance between them, moving cautiously and gradually as if trying to catch a butterfly that could flutter away at any moment. When she did not react, he gently pulled her into him, his arms engulfing her shoulders in an embrace.
Stunned, Tifa's arms fell to her sides. The side of her face rested on Cloud's collarbone and she could hear the beating of his quick, steady pulse at the bottom of his neck.
Overwhelmed with an unfamiliar warmth, Cloud held her tightly as if denied this moment for so long.
"I don't think you realize," he whispered, "how much I lo—"
"Don't."
Cloud's words caught in his throat as Tifa's faint voice finally broke her silence. It was the first word she spoke in the seemingly endless time that had elapsed as they stood in the cold and empty street. If Cloud was honest, it couldn't have sounded sweeter.
"Don't say it," Tifa repeated, her arms trailing up his waist and resting in an embrace around his back.
She wasn't sure what overcame her; they were words she had always wanted to hear. But now that the moment arrived, she didn't want them said, as if they wouldn't be real, or they would be taken from her the moment they escaped his lips.
Cloud complied and fell silent. Neither of them realized it had stopped snowing, but the world was still, and for all they knew, they were the only ones alive on the Planet.
Resolve broken, Tifa's knees buckled as her strength escaped her. Cloud held her steadily, knowingly, protectively.
The ice was melting, and for the first time in months, she felt the soft flicker of hope glimmer in her heart. It twinkled faintly and uncertainly, like the stars that revealed themselves in the sky above them.
But the hurt was still there and she couldn't deny the omnipresent aching in her chest.
As if feeling it too, Cloud leaned in. "It will take time, but I'll be patient." He squeezed her shoulders, "However long it takes. I'll remind you of who you are, okay?"
Tifa felt his lips press softly on her cheek. It was warm, tender, light; like the beginning of something. Tifa pulled back slightly and met his eyes. They were firm; determined.
"You really will?"
Cloud smiled – the kind of smile that made her think everything was fine. Tonight, though, he wanted her to know it.
"Definitely."
In the next moments, Tifa found herself in a trance. She blinked and before she knew it, Cloud was leading her, slowly, back into the Seventh Heaven. Tenderly, he took her bag off her shoulder and placed it on the floor. Gently, he took her coat and coaxed her to sit down. He scurried behind the bar and returned with a warm cup of tea, caringly placing it in on the table in front of her.
He tended to her carefully, as delicately as she used to tend to his wounds in the aftermath of the many battles they faced together. But for all Cloud knew, Tifa was wounded right now, and he would care for her with the level of meticulousness she had always used for him.
Then, he was leading her upstairs, ushering her into her bedroom and helping her get changed. As she crawled into her covers, Cloud sat at her bedside, touching her hand. She asked him to lie with her and he obeyed, settling into the empty space next to her and feeling comfort in their shoulders touching. They hadn't lain together like this since before he left, and it was the first time in a long time that either of them had a restful sleep.
In the days that followed, Tifa continued her nightly walks, but this time with Cloud at her side, holding her hand, keeping her warm.
On the nights when snow fell, they both took a moment to stop in the middle of Tifa's favorite stretch, watching the light and the dark above them.
There was something bittersweet about the white, whimsical snowflakes dancing against the black, looming sky.
But as she gazed at the sky, Tifa didn't realize that Cloud gazed at her, waiting patiently.
And he would continue to wait for her for as long as she needed. For as long as she was still hurting, for as long as she still had doubts – in herself and in him – he would wait for her.
And in time, he would help her heal so that her eyes would no longer trail off to the black sky that was her pain.
In time, he would wait for her to find herself, so that one day she'll finally let him say those three words, and she could follow his voice back home.
...
.
.
.
A/N: I really have to give a shout out to The-Ocean-Deep and Marjorie Franklin, whose stories have inspired me deeply to try my hand at writing these two. If you haven't already, I encourage you to check out their work – I can only hope I can characterize Tifa and Cloud with as much complexity and depth as they both have in their stories one day!
Thank you all for reading! I hope you caught the OWTAS: Case of Tifa references :P
Happy Holidays!