Into Oblivion Chapter II: Dearest Helpless

Dearest helpless/Intent's not as bad as the action/Take a breath to distort/The fear in your eyes/I don't mean it to hurt/But every time I hate you/I think of you first

The Sorceress brushed her hair almost idly, watching her reflection with careful eyes; she seemed so pure right now, so icily contained in her youth. Her skin was smooth, pale, her eyes full of life. Rinoa Heartilly was a beautiful girl.

She sighed gently as the lover she claimed to no longer want slipped into the bathroom behind her, sliding an arm round her waist and pressing his lips to her shoulder. He was shirtless, a gentle smile touching his lips with his closeness to her; in all truth and nakedness, Squall was a very attractive man, muscular and with a good scent, soft lips never too dry, skin and hair soft to run fingers over and through. He was wonderful – but he was not exciting.

He moved his lips up and over her neck, closing them around her earlobe and nibbling gently. "Squall…" He said nothing in response, carrying on in his sweet, romantic manner. "I'm… not in the mood right now…"

With a barely audible sigh, he rested his head on her shoulder and mumbled into her ear: "That's not like you… is something wrong?" He'd moved one hand down over her chest, untying the blue bow that held her vest together.

It was so difficult, saying no to a man whose hands felt so wonderful on one's skin – and she could feel his manhood pressing against her, even through the layers of clothing they both wore. She shook her head in response, turning and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Nothing."

"Mmm… you sound different." Those soft lips were back at her neck, kissing and licking the pale flesh of it as he pressed himself closer to her.

Why did he have to be so damned observant today? "I think maybe I'm getting a cold." What a lie. She was horrible at lying to him.

He didn't bother to comment, as per usual, and this she was glad of for once – Squall was too smart for his own good. She didn't know if she would dare put him in danger; after all, he was a powerful man and could easily overthrow her in a swift swipe of the gunblade. And he would, too – business was business, and if business meant killing his adoptive mother or his girlfriend, then so be it.

The Black Knight gathered her into his arms, lifting her up, and carried her to the bed they shared, setting her down gently upon it. Somewhere, a tiny green fire flared.

* * *

In the next room, a trenchcoatless man tried to sleep. The window let in no light, as its blinds were drawn, but it was night anyway, and the only light to be found was the artificial nighttime lighting of the Military Academy. He had left a small reading lamp on, and now he regretted it; the hum of the electricity was keeping him awake.

Well, in all truth, it was not that hum that kept him awake. It was the screams of pleasure coming from his Mistress' room.

Although possessed and kept under by the sweet, sugary power of the Sorceress, he was not entirely gone. He understood what was happening. He was not only a pawn. He was an angry pawn. She had asked him to promise to be loyal to her, to never love anyone as much as he would love her. But she was perfectly free to fuck the living hell out of his mortal enemy in the room next to his, when she knew damn well that he could hear.

If he'd had the energy to hit something, something would have been hit rather hard.

Rinoa. Sorceress Rinoa. Queen Rinoa. He was developing feelings for her. And this time it wasn't just a cover-up to get at her father's money.

Seifer needed to kill something.

* * *

Instructor Quistis Trepe sat, calm and collected as always, grading papers in her second-floor classroom. After the defeat of Ultimecia, she had been returned to rank Instructor as a sort of way to thank her for taking part in the team. Although she had faded face after the first attack on Sorceress Edea, she had still been part of the team, and they had all been thanked in a way by the general public or the Garden or the authorities or…

What kind of thanks was work? They made her an Instructor to thank her?

Quistis had never thought about it in depth before. Perhaps they had been short teachers at Garden, or they thought that sending her to work was an acceptable way to show their gratitude. She sighed and set down the paper she held in one un-gloved hand, relaxing back in her chair. Perhaps they thought that they could fool her into believing that sending her to work was a wonderful thing. Perhaps they believed that being an Instructor was life's only joy for her. Perhaps they thought she didn't just do it for Squall.

Of course they didn't think she did it for just him – everyone thought she was some deep, true, loyal woman who felt no desire. No anger. No love. Emotionless, that was she – always cool and composed, never lashing out in any sort of extreme feeling. She had not wanted to be an Instructor because she loved teaching. Teaching was not fun, it was work of the worst kind, work that involved dealing with people with whom she did not get along. She had wanted to be an Instructor because she was in love with a boy.

A man.

She had wanted to be closer to her soldier, the leather-clad quiet one, a student who kept mostly, or entirely, to himself. She had opened her heart to him and held him close in her fantasies, but he turned to a woman who had fallen in love with his worst enemy and who wanted to change the very person he was inside. The emotionless felt a tear slide down her cheek. The only man she'd ever loved had turned to a woman who would fuck him and dump him and leave him behind in the dust while she tortured him and tortured his dreams and turned everything backwards until he wanted to die and he'd never turn to her because she wasn't good enough for him, wasn't pretty enough, wasn't smart enough, wasn't a Sorceress, wasn't so strong, and –

Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard the soft click of the door opening. She wiped the tear from her cheek with her fingers, cursing the fact that she had taken off her gloves and sleeves earlier for ease of marking. Now her fingers were wet with the salty water that made up things so foreign as tears. The emotionless turned in her chair as the door opened fully. Quistis realized that it was very late at night, almost curfew, and whoever had come to the classroom was probably not here for a wholesome purpose.

The White Knight stepped in, that hateable but so perfectly loveable smirk dancing on his lips. She gasped and stood quickly, pushing the chair back on its wheels. "Seifer? What are you doing here? I'll call Garden Authorities –"

His smile widened as he narrowed those fiery eyes at her, moving closer. "No need, Instructor. I won't hurt you." His voice was a soft growl as he said the words, and she watched him with careful, frightened eyes, preparing herself for whatever he might do. He tore the phone out of the wall with more strength than he actually had – and she fell backwards.

"I-I'll scream! Someone will hear me, they'll catch you, a-and –" She cut herself off, hearing the trembling and panic in her own voice. It was so rare that she felt like this – scared.

"Will you?" She was gathered up into his arms, one hand covering her mouth, all in one swift movement. She could taste the worn leather of his black glove as she struggled, but he paid no heed, moving towards the back of the classroom and thus the window, Hyperion tied against his thigh. Her struggling became more frantic, and he frowned at her. "I'll put you down, Instructor, if you promise me something." Her eyes seemed to give consent. "Don't scream. Don't run. Don't kick and punch. Just don't move."

She nodded and closed her eyes as he dropped her to the floor, drawing his sword from beneath his trenchcoat. "Now, remember, the window's right behind you," he said, and was right – they were up against the wall at the back of the classroom. "So if you scream or run or kick, I'll grab you and throw you out the window."

She gulped back some air, daring to speak. "What's wrong with you, Seifer? You've never been a nice guy, but this…"

He ran a gloved finger over the blade of his sword, examining it, and drew the tip over her cheek to leave a thin, bleeding cut. "You know my Sorceress and you know her magic. What do you think is wrong with me?" He crouched beside her, pulling off his glove and gathering her blood on his fingertip. It stung, and she clenched her eyes shut, resisting the urge to push him away and make a run for it.

"Sorceress…?" Her voice was soft, just like her beauty, and he took full notice of it. "Rinoa?"

He smiled, licking the blood off of his finger and slipping his glove back on. "You're jealous of her, aren't you? She took your teacher's pet Squally-boy." Seifer stood and pushed her over on to her stomach with his boot, kicking her in the side as he did so. "She stole your wuvvy-bunny."

She remained silent, and he crouched again beside her, grabbing the back of her hair and wrenching her head up. "Didn't she? That little slut hurt you very much, didn't she, Quistis? She's in bed with him right now, I heard them. She's screaming with pleasure, Instructor, just screaming. It sounds like he's a good lover."

Her body shook as she wept, pulling away from him and sitting up against a desk. The salt of her tears mixed with her blood and seeped into her skin, stinging like all hell, but she didn't wince. He laughed and pulled her up from the floor by the collar, pressing her hard against the wall. Her feet barely touched the floor as he held her up, and he was so close – she could feel his breath hot against her face. "You're a beautiful woman, Quisty," he said, smiling and pressing his lips to hers, bruising them with the force behind his kiss. "It's a pity you have to have a personality."

She gasped and gritted her teeth and he punched her in the stomach, again and again, knocking the wind from her. He scooped up his gunblade, juggling it until the hilt rested comfortably in his hand, and pressed the cold metal of it to her bare arm. "I lied, my dear sister. I'm going to hurt you very, very much. And then you won't ever have to see me again."

His words were harsh and she felt the stabbing pain of them in her stomach – dear sister, dear sister… they had been children together, and now…

She felt his pressure on her release as he stepped back, taking a few practice swipes with Hyperion. "You're going to – oh, Seifer, no…"

That smirk again. "Dear, dear sister. I have to. I can't have you running around telling Squally-boy that I'm here. Can't have you gettin' my Mistress in trouble." He was oddly logical for a psychopath.

"I won't tell," she said quietly, concentrating on counting the tiles in the floor.

"Like hell you won't." His hand was at her throat, closing around it slowly, and in her panic, she thought she saw him run the blade of his sword through her stomach, and… and…

* * *

"What do you mean, dead? In the middle of the night? Garden's too secure for that!" Squall pulled his shirt hurriedly over his head, having already leapt out of bed and slipped on his pants. "How could this have happened? Where is she? We need more security– call Galbadia Garden. Now!"

Rinoa sat up in the bed, sheets wrapped around her tiny form. "Quistis? But…" Squall was already gone from the room, and the last member of Garden Faculty had disappeared out the door behind him. She bit her lip and stepped out of the bed, pulling on a robe, and tiptoed quietly into the seemingly-empty room beside hers.

"Seifer? Are you in here?" Her voice was almost timid as she searched for him. He stepped out of the bathroom, shirtless and soaked from the waist up.

"Mornin'." He sounded as if he hadn't gotten any sleeping done since she'd ordered him to bed hours ago.

"Quistis is dead." Rinoa cast her gaze to the side, anger burning red into her cheeks.

Seifer towelled his hair dry and sat down on the small bed barely two steps out of the bathroom. "I know." Spots of blood still decorated the black fabric of his pants.

"So it was you that killed her. I didn't tell you to. What do you think you're doing? You're going to get us caught!" Her voice raised in volume as she spoke, until she was almost yelling. "I didn't tell you to kill my close friends. I didn't tell you to do anything yet."

He glared at her. "I'm sorry, Mistress, but I'm not going to sit here and listen to you moan while my worst enemy pounds into you. Not my thing."

"Whatever, Seifer. Get some sleep. I have business to take care of. If you dare do anything else, I'll kill you. Literally." She turned and stalked out of the room.

"Evil, malicious bitch," he mumbled just as she was out of earshot.

* * *

Squall sat alone in the tiny Infirmary bedroom, running bare fingertips over Quistis' cold-as-death face, touching the bloodstained cut over her cheek. He was crying. He never cried.

"So, you're gone," he whispered to no-one but himself; he had ordered everyone leave. "Not gonna come back." It was so difficult to believe. He had never fully admitted to himself that he had feelings for her, but he was admitting it now. He'd always believed that he had a chance, after Rinoa left him as she invariably would, to love Quistis. But now… no, she was gone. He would never be able to love her. Never be able to kiss her, or…

He pressed his lips against hers, but pulled away quickly, as she was cold and still and there was someone coming.

Rinoa.

This was her fault. Somehow.

* * *

"SEARCH?"

"Naw, 'cause then, if he comes back, we won't be here, ya know?"

"AGREED."

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Disclaimer: Ha, I put it at the bottom again. Look at me, I'm so cool. I don't own any of the Final Fantasy characters, but I do own this story. I also don't own "Dearest Helpless" or the lyrics up top; those belong to silverchair, as do the title and lyrics from last chapter. Don't be stealin' this here story, or I'll have to paddle yer rump.

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My god, I did not like this chapter at all – but then I didn't like the last one, either, did I? ;p I was intending on drawing out the Quistis torture much, much more, but I'm not in a terribly sadistic mood today. A couple of people have asked about the sentences in the last scene on the stories – that's Fujin and Raijin, who were staying with Seifer before all of this happened. Like in all fanfiction. In Balamb Hotel. Like in all fanfiction. I'm not really very original. *does the OOC-Quistis dance*

Be a responsible reader and write a review, or I'll call you a shithead. ;p