Title: The Way Home
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue
Spoilers: Up to and including all of S5.
Pairing: Tim/Tyra-esque with whispers of Landry & Tyra.
Summary: "The first time in two years Tyra Collette returns home to Dillon, Texas is for a funeral." The reunion of old friends in their hometown after a death of a loved one. Centered around Tyra.
The first time in two years Tyra Collette returns home to Dillon, Texas is for a funeral.
In the past six years, she hasn't been home for more than a long weekend. It's always too hard. Hard to remember the girl she was when she lived there. Hard to consider the girl she would become if she convinced herself to stay.
But now she has a bachelor's degree with her name on it. She also has a job in a city with sky scrappers and culture and people who care about more than football. It is those things that make her believe she is strong enough to survive a week in her hometown.
After she kisses her crying mama hello, she dusts off her old cowboy boots (she hasn't had a need for them outside of Texas) and slips on a blue sundress to welcome the Texas sunshine on her bare shoulders. It is a far cry from the fog and chill she is now accustomed to. Her old pickup truck is waiting for her in the driveway and it nearly drives itself - it has been on this path a thousand times over and the way there is ingrained in its tires.
The house is just as she remembers. There are toys scattered in the front yard and the bushes aren't so overgrown, but little else has changed. It is comforting.
Tyra takes a dozen deep breaths before she can make her way to the front door. She does not knock, just lets herself in. Time cannot change that either.
Inside there is a baby screaming, there are fighting children, there is a ringing phone. And in the middle of all the chaos, her sister is crying on the sofa in the arms of Tim Riggins.
It overwhelms her - every last bit of it - but she calls her sister's name before she rushes to her side. She's on her knees and has her arms wrapped around her sister in seconds. Her tear-filled eyes flicker to Tim's and he reaches out to squeeze her shoulder. His fingertips linger against her skin for a moment before he gets up to pull the fighting children apart.
-x-
"I am so sorry about your brother," Tyra says softly when she is alone with Tim on the patio out back. Her arms are wrapped around herself and she watches him carefully - the hard set of his jaw and his clenched fists as he paces the space before her.
"I'm just glad you came."
"Where else would I be?"
He stops and narrows his eyes, shooting her a knowing look. He catches her half-smile before he goes back inside.
-x-
Billy Riggins' death rocks Dillon. It comes as the most tragic surprise - someone ran a red light and smashed their truck into his. They took his life, leaving a wife without a husband and four small children without a father.
But what surprises his widow even more than the two police officers who show up late at night to tell her her husband's dead, is the amount of people who show up in the wake of the news. They have come from across town and across the country to lend their support and say goodbye.
-x-
Inside the Alamo Freeze, Tyra discovers that anyone who ever managed to escape Dillon has returned home to pay their respects.
"Lyla?"
She turns at the sound of her name and greets Tyra with a wide, thousand-watt smile. It is familiar and comforting.
Lyla sets her Coke on the counter and carefully wraps her arms around Tyra, saying softly into her ear, "I am so sorry about Billy."
"What are you doing here, Garrity?"
Lyla smiles sadly. "I had to come. For Mindy. For Tim. For Billy. Just didn't feel right being anywhere but here."
"Almost funny what it takes to bring people back home."
The dark-haired girl nods knowingly. "How's San Francisco?"
"It's real good. Real different from Dillon. And Texas."
"No place like home, right?"
"Right," she breathes, but it's an uneasy agreement. "How's Nashville treating you?"
"I love it. And it's still below the Mason Dixon, so daddy's head hasn't popped off yet."
"Think you'll ever come back to Dillon?"
Lyla considers this for a moment, but shakes her head and says a quiet yet resounding "no."
-x-
Tyra scrubs the Riggins' house clean, combs the children's hair, and zips up the back of her sister's navy blue dress so that when people begin to arrive with their casseroles, they will be ready to receive them.
There is a knock at the door promptly at two o'clock and it begins a steady steam of endlessly familiar faces. With each new person Tyra welcomes into the house, their sad faces and sweet words go straight to her heart. Tears swell in her eyes and threaten to spill each time she sees someone from her past.
It is hard being surrounded by so many people she knows (especially when she's used to being surrounded by strangers). It stirs something that has remained dormant in her heart these past six years and that scares her.
It is the people who have been scattered across the country, the few people she cared so deeply for years before, that break her heart so sweetly. Julie and Matt Saracen. Smash. Lyla Garrity. Jason Street. Football players who are dressed in Panther blue.
The tears remain at bay until she opens the door to Coach and Mrs. Taylor. She throws her arms around Tami's neck and the tears finally fall against her shoulder. Tami whispers the most soothing things into her ear and she finally feels at home.
When her tears subside, she finds a quiet place in the house to tell Tami of her four years in college, of her life outside of Dillon, of her studio apartment in the city, of her job being an advocate for underprivileged kids (and how she was inspired because of her).
"I am so, so proud of you," Tami tells her sincerely, squeezing her hand.
Then the tears come again.
-x-
When Tyra sees Tim talking in hushed voices to Lyla Garrity in an intimate corner of the house, she feels no pangs of jealousy. Not even when he squeezes her hand or when she fingers his bicep does she feel jealous.
She's long since gotten over her jealousy of Lyla and Tim. It is now just a distant, fading memory from the past. It no longer hurts. If anything, she's grateful for Lyla's calming presence.
She knows Lyla is not a threat to anything she has. Not to her shiny life in California and not to her messy relationship with Tim. Especially when her skin still tingles from the night before when Tim took her up against the side of her house - fast and hard - before they both dissolved into tears.
-x-
In the early morning sunlight, Tyra stands with Tim in his bedroom and helps him with his tie. Her fingers move easily over the silk, but she can't help but feel self-conscious knowing his eyes are on her the entire time.
Quiet moments like this make her heart ache for him the most.
In the years she has been away from Dillon, she has always thought of Tim. In some of her more desperate moments, she has pleaded with him to meet her halfway between Texas and California. He has always agreed and they find each other in the desert.
Their paths have never crossed naturally. Her dreams have always been bigger than him and this town, but she believes one day they will find their way to one another.
Tim thinks Texas is home.
But Tyra just thinks Tim is home.
-x-
The church is overflowing with people - loved ones and faraway friends and Panthers. There are not enough seats, so dozens stand along the perimeter. The funeral is filled with tears and Amazing Grace.
Many stand to speak about Billy Riggins - to tell funny stories, to share memories, to speak about the kind of man he was, to love him.
Tim staggers to the front of the church to talk about his brother. But he barely manages to mumble more than a couple words before his fist slams against his brother's coffin. Tyra comes to his rescue, surrounding him in her arms and drawing him back down beside her on the pew.
When the service ends, people slowly filter out of the church. But Tim and Tyra remain rooted in their seats. Their fingers are interlaced and her head rests against his shoulder.
"I miss him," he confesses.
"You're a good brother, Tim."
"I miss you."
She lifts her head and smiles. "Come back to San Francisco with me."
Tim can only laugh, but he dips his head to kiss her softly. "Texas forever," he reminds her.
Tyra just nods before she kisses him again.
-x-
Under a cloudless blue Texas sky, Billy Riggins is buried.
There is a priest with countless words, there is a song, there is a lot of crying.
When handfuls of dirt have been released over his coffin, mourners slowly make their way back to their cars. Tim carries a hysterical Mindy back to his truck.
Some linger. Tyra does. She wants to remain a strong, gracious host (mostly because no one else is able) but soon the Texas sun is too hot and the sadness is too heavy.
She crosses the cemetery with staggered steps, but when she is almost to her truck she hears a familiar drawl that has her heart sinking to her feet.
"Want a ride?"
When she lifts her head to see his face framed by the bright sunlight she smiles genuinely for the first time she's been back in Dillon.
"For old time's sake?" he presses, smiling widely.
She runs the short distance to him - crashes right into him and loops her arms around his neck. He staggers backwards, but manages to keep them both upright (just as he has always done).
"Landry!" she laughs breathlessly into his ear. "God am I happy to see you." She squeezes him once more before she finally lets him go. "What on earth are you doing here?"
Landry shrugs and gives her a crooked smile. "Figured you could use a ride… and a friend."
-x-
Tyra asks Landry to take the long way. She rolls down the window and relishes in the heat and the breeze against her skin. With closed eyes, she lets herself remember what it feels like to be home again.
She doesn't have a car in the city. It is usually packed MUNI buses and long walks in heels that make her impossibly tall that take her everywhere. A lonely country road is a freedom she has not felt for a long, long time.
This moment is almost enough to make her reconsider city living, pack up her bags, and move back to this dusty little town.
But she wont.
-x-
When Landry's car pulls into her mother's driveway, where everyone has gathered after the service, Tyra asks him to stay with her for just a few minutes.
"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" she murmurs nostalgically.
"It has. You've come a long way, Tyra Collette."
She laughs easily. "We both have."
"I think you've only gotten prettier."
Her eyebrow arches. "Your lines have gotten a little smoother."
Tyra leans in to him, presses her hand against his chest and kisses the corner of his mouth. "Thanks for the ride, Landry."
He looks at her questioningly as she slides towards the door.
"Thank you for everything," she tells him softly.
Catching her hand just before she slips out of his car, he squeezes and tells her, "you're welcome."
-x-
There's a sea of black inside of her mother's house.
Tyra is pulled into hundreds of hugs even while she tries to focus on making sure everyone's glass is filled and everyone has a plate of food in their hand.
Eventually, her mother pushes her outside. Slowly, a group gathers around her and the people surrounding her now remind her of the glory days of high school. Tim and Landry are on either side of her, Matt and Julie across from them, and Lyla and Smash are perched on the railing of the porch with Jason Street next to them.
They relive the days when they were all together. When Dillon was the only place they knew as home and nothing seemed more important than Friday night.
At some point, Tim's hand finds hers and it is natural when her hand is in his for the rest of the night.
The sun slowly fades into the horizon and the dusky sky quickly becomes filled with stars. Tyra swears she hasn't seen stars this bright in years, but it's just a quick thought because she's pulled back into the conversation.
Everyone stays for a long time after the sun has set. Their laughter carries straight to the stars above their heads and floats into the distance just as easily as the clouds.
Most of her friends must leave in the morning, so she hugs them goodbye and thanks them for being there. It's impossibly hard to watch them all walk away.
She holds onto Julie a little bit longer than the others and kisses Landry goodbye. He tells her he'll always love her and she whispers "ditto" before kissing him again.
-x-
As they clean up together, Tim looks up at Tyra earnestly and asks, "Do you think you'll ever love me like you love him?"
Tyra stops instantly, dropping the plate in her hands back into the soapy water. "Do you think you'll ever love me like you love Lyla?" she retorts.
He glances away from her.
"No," she answers. "Because the way I love him is entirely different from the way I love you. It's not a competition. It just… is."
Tim smiles and continues to stuff plastic cups into a trash bag.
-x-
The house is shining in the dark when Tyra's truck stops in front of it. It is prettier than she pictured with a blue front door and honey colored siding.
When she steps out of her truck, the grass is cool beneath her bare feet (she forgot her boots in her hurry to get here).
She has never been here before, but she's heard him speak of it so many times before it feels familiar. That is why she doesn't knock on the blue front door, just lets herself right in.
It is easily ten times bigger than her studio. But it is sparsely furnished so it feels even bigger than it is. There's a leather sofa, a TV, and a beat up kitchen table with two mismatched chairs.
It's perfectly Tim. And feels strangely like coming home again. Especially when Tim is there, his shirt unbuttoned and a sly smile on his lips, taking up so much room. In this house, in her heart.
"Like it?"
"I love it. I can't believe you did all of this yourself."
He stalks towards her and greets her properly with a kiss. It is an easy pattern they fall into - being together like this, giving and taking without asking.
"I'm going back home tomorrow."
"This is home," he snaps defensively.
She sighs heavily. "You know what I mean. I'm going back to San Francisco in the morning. Mama's taking me to the airport early."
Tim's arms wind around her waist. "Stay." It is not a request, or even a command, just a word - a fact.
"You know I can't do that."
"Don't you love me enough?" This does not come out as an accusation, just a question asked in a scared voice by a boy who just lost his brother.
Her head drops to his shoulder and she inhales the scent of him. "It's not about that. It's not about loving you enough, it's about loving myself more. I can't stay in this town. Not yet."
His hand cups her chin and he gently tilts her head up so that she will meet his eyes. "One day, Collette, this house is going to be ours."
Tyra looks around the house and she can picture it easily enough - living here with him in this pretty house in Dillon - and she wants it, but she wants something even bigger for herself than all of this.
Her eyes spark with fire as she looks at him and her lips twitch upwards into a smile. "One day, Riggins, you're going to want so much. And when you do, I'll be waiting for you."
She kisses him deeply and tells him goodbye. She means to leave right after that, but he pulls her in again and they come together on the wooden floors two times before she slips her dress back on and finds her way home.
-x-
In the morning she leaves Dillon.
She stares out the window of her mama's car the whole way to the airport and tries to memorize the buildings and the landscape - taking mental pictures of the place she still considers home to take with her when she's lonely in the big city and wishing for something just like this tired old town and all of its glory.
She's not sure if she'll ever live in Dillon again - or even Texas - but she is certain that this town will forever be a part of who she is. And the people she has met here will always be imprinted in her heart wherever she goes.
Pieces of her heart drop the entire way back to California, so when he's ready, he can easily find his way to her.
Or so that when she needs to, she can find her way back home.