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Fated
Delling City was always full of flashing lights and tourist traps. Once, it had even been where the rein of a new sorceress had started. Now it was nothing more than shadows of lost hopes and broken dreams. People came and went, and the economy survived, but it would never be the fine city it had been. Too much horror had been born there, too many traitorous acts birthed from its depths.
The buses had long since stopped running, making the residents and visitors learn to walk on their own two feet. It was rare when a car came rolling through the city, chasing the usually drunk residents and whores from the streets at late hours. Still, the purr of an engine was there, tires slowly rolling over old newspapers and cigarette butts.
A rather ancient looking van, midnight blue paint turning into rust around the edges, windows tinted so darkly the city patrons couldn't see in as it passed them by, was creeping its way down the main street in the residential area. Dark figures seemed to only be shadows against the tint as they peered out at their dank surroundings, an icy feeling thick in their guts.
It had almost been two years since the group had come to this place. It lingered in their dreams, the blur of lights and dancing figures, her face so full of hate, his so full of arrogance. It was all part of hellish nightmares that had once been grand and hated memories. Now though, their memories were as dulled as the streetlights against the tint of the windows they peered out of.
None of them had spoken since they left Garden. None of them even knew where they were going exactly. They had been given simple, and vague orders by their commander and friend. It was never like him to be so vague, though simple in words, yes. Still, something had them on the edge of their seats as they traveled deeper into the city.
They had all watched as the clouds rolled over the city as they approached, having left Garden an hour previous, docked comfortably on the flat expanse just two hours south. It had been precautionary measures to keep a good distance between B. Garden and G. Garden. Even with the truce, two years withstanding, the two military forces had never been on each other's good side.
Now, after another hours drive to reach the city, and another thirty minutes driving to reach the residential area, the young SeeDs realized more than just clouds had been rolling in. The entire city was full of filth. Most of the residents that still lingered in the better districts of housing had long since retired in fear of what the night brought.
As the van rolled along the dirt-ridden street, nice houses became broken down buildings, one-hour hotels, and condemned apartment complexes. Prostitutes and drug dealers seemed to linger along the street corners without conscious. Hope hung on every streetlight that still worked, as if naively trying to save the darkness from itself.
The van started to slow down, coasting along the curb until it stopped its approach infront of a large apartment building. That building, with its pale grey walls, seemed to stand contrast against the darkness around it. Many of the windows were broken, shouts coming from the entrance as the blur of figures came and went at a fast pace. The low ring of a phone and the cry of a child were heard as the driver side door opened, and the brunette man that had been driving slipped out.
The passenger side door also opened, the raven-haired woman sitting next to the driver slid out to join him. Soon after the sliding door to the back opened, and the other four clambered from his or her seats to join the other two standing on crumbling sidewalk. What they saw before them was a depressing, and oddly familiar sight. A slum where hope no longer lingered, and shadows of what used to be fell harshly onto those living there.
"What are we supposed to find in a place like this?" The voice was too cheery for the environment, and seemed to mock all the disdain the place stood for. Leave it to Selphie to break the silence.
Five pairs of eyes turned to face the short, auburn haired girl as she stood there gawking at the building infront of them. It was Squall that spoke though, his gaze the most indifferent. "Cid's dying wish."
There was silence again; so thick you could cut it with a gunblade. Only Squall knew what that wish was, though some of the others had speculated on it. Zell swore it was a conspiracy that related to Garden and would solve all the mysteries that surrounded it. Irvine had called Zell stupid and asked just what mysteries he had been talking about. Zell's only reply was 'hotdogs'.
Selphie had danced happily around and exclaimed that it most definitely had to do with explosives. Irvine had to only shake his head this time to get the girl to pout. Quistis, always the inquisitive one, asked Irvine what he thought Cid's dying wish had been. His reply? An illegitimate child.
As they stood infront of the apartment building in the middle of a ruined city, they all knew their assumptions were incorrect. But what lay inside the walls of such a crude area that Cid would whisper it in his final breath? None of them, not even Squall who knew, would be prepared for what was to come once they entered the doors and headed for truth.
--
The stale air of apartment 4B was thick with the smell of alcohol, dirt, and blood. Walls, that had once been white, were now covered in dirt and dust, rotten food that had been thrown at it, and splashes of alcohol. Bed, broken and battered, was covered in beer cans, no longer sturdy enough to hold the weight of a body, or two, depending on if a flash of skin was wanted or not at the time.
The floor was covered in empty takeout order boxes and sacks, more beer cans, old newspapers and other filth that was so rotted it was unrecognizable. Roaches swarmed within the mess, so thickly that you couldn't tell them from the dark carpet at times, until you turned on a light and they scuttled away.
That light was currently off, the bulb having burnt out a week or so ago. Weeks were blurs of wasted moments, easily confused with days and even months. There was no need for a calendar in the miserable place, time being only a painful memory to the only inhabitant within the apartment.
Slumped in a broken lounge chair, dulled jade colored eyes stared blankly at the snowy distortion on the television set infront of him. One hand, a shadow of the strong hand that had wielded a gunblade proudly, now weakly clutched a half empty bottle of vodka. The other hand, scarred with fresh cuts from a bar fight only previous nights before, ran through straggly blonde hair, tugging at the jagged length that hung near his chin, thick with dirt and dried blood.
Seifer Almasy in all his disgrace. Once a proud and arrogant man, a man that made his own fate with the help of a beautiful sorceress, now sat broken and belittled by life. No better than the roaches that scuttled under the worn leather of his boot. He seemed unaware of his own dismay, or even his surroundings as he sat, staring blankly at the television in a drunken state.
The banging at the door seemed like a dream, each rattle and creek of the frame like a distant call to another room. It was only when it became a persistent boom that Seifer began to draw from his dazed state. Gaze slipped from the blur of the television to the rattled wood that dared to break open if he didn't answer it.
"I paid this month's rent!" A drunken slur sounded like a growl, deep within his throat. No one knocked at his door unless it was for the collection of rent. In honesty, Seifer was pretty sure he hadn't paid rent in months, and the only thing that kept the landlord away was his fear of the blonde man.
The knocking had only faltered a moment, the soft murmurs of people speaking in the hall able to be heard. Soon enough, the banging was back. The owner of that fist knocking at his door was going to get one right in his face if Seifer had anything to say about it. "I'm comin', and this better be fuckin' important!" He scowled as he yelled at the door once more.
Sluggishly, the ex knight pressed his free hand to the arm of the chair and forced himself to stand. He stumbled, alcohol sloshing out of the bottle. Feeling the wetness against his pant leg, he stared down with narrowed eyes and growled. The bottle was tossed aside, a distant thud on the floor as he staggered to the door.
--
Squall stood, wondering if the man he was sent to retrieve was ever going to answer his damn door. He was also a bit apprehensive that he would. At first, when there was no response, he was curious. Perhaps the lapdog had died and was the smell of rotting that was starting to seep under the door. But soon enough, a rough voice came from behind the confines of the door, and disappointment ran cold in his veins.
The others had turned to each other, murmuring things Squall didn't care to hear. He knew they must have been wondering why he had taken them to such a dismal place. He knew they were wondering and worrying about who was on the other side of that door. Who had been Cid's dying wish. Rinoa was just as clueless as the others, standing there wide-eyed as sounds started to grow nearer to the door.
Suddenly, there was the rattle of locks and the creek of the door as it was pulled open. A large man, only a shadow of the masculine form he used to be, stood hunched over with a fist pressed to the doorframe for support. His hair hung into his face, hiding the scar on his forehead. He looked like a mad man.
Squall was taken aback by the sight before him, though hid it with an indifferent expression. Everyone else gazed curiously at him as if he were a stranger. They didn't recognize him. But the sudden gleam in his eyes showed he recognized them. Oh yes, he remembered his old 'orphanage gang', yes, quite well indeed.
With a snarl, Seifer brought himself to stand from his lean, albeit a little shakily from being so intoxicated. He tried to throw his shoulders back to remove the hunch, but found all he could do was stand awkwardly as if someone had ran a rod up the back of his tattered shirt. "Well, what do I owe the honor of having Puberty Boy, Chicken-Wuss and the rest ole' the gang at my door?" He smirked, the only thing still intact from his past.
Realization hit the five other SeeDs, their faces washing over with pure shock. Rinoa had shrieked and grabbed ahold of Squall's arm for comfort. Zell had doubled back with fists up like he had done many times as a cadet when facing Seifer and his tirade of insults. Selphie and Irvine had taken defensive stances next to each other, their gaze never leaving him. Quistis stood silent; staring at the man she had grown up with and managed to forget about within the last year.
It was Squall that broke the silence this time. He took a step forward, cautious and predatorily. One hand fell to the handle of his gunblade, while he tugged Rinoa behind him with the other. "You're coming with us." His voice was a low, authoritative tone he had picked up in the two years as commander of Garden.
"I'm what?" Seifer let out a bellow of laughter, head tossed back so that his hair fell out of his face; scar apparent. He looked wild as he stopped laughing and brought a level gaze to Squall, staring him down with a glint of drunken rage in his eye.
"You're coming with us. There is no discussion. Get your things." Another step taken to show how determined he was. Everyone else watched in mild horror.
Seifer brought a hand up, at first it looked like he might strike Squall, but instead just swung his arm wide and stepped back to let everyone see inside his room. "As you can see, I don't have 'things' to gather." His tone was bitter as he glared at his childhood rival with distaste.
Everyone peered into his room, shocked and disgusted by what they saw. This was where the magnificent knight had spent the last two years? Surely he hadn't fallen that much. No one had heard anything of him since the fall of Ultimecia, but no one had expected this.
"Good, then let's go." Squall canted his head in the direction of the elevator, not intending on staying there any longer than they had to.
"What the hell, man?" Zell exclaimed, swinging his fists in the air as if he was swatting flies. "You can't be serious about bringing this… this… lapdog with us? I mean, seriously after all he's—"
"Shut up, Zell." Squall hissed through clenched teeth, watching Seifer out of the corner of his eye.
Seifer stood rigidly in the doorway, eyeing the shorter blonde as if he might reach out and strangle him in an instant. He was wild, and unkempt. None of them knew what he had been through, but they all knew what he was capable of.
"Perhaps, for the rest of us to be more open to the sudden suggestion of taking," Quistis paused; peering over at the man she was about to call Seifer. Was that really who he was? "The said party with us," the term in place of his name just didn't seem to fit and made her look away from him. "You'd like to explain to us why we are doing so in the first place?"
"Shut up, Trepe." It was Seifer this time that dealt out the silence card. Feral emerald eyes fell onto the blonde woman, his gaze so harsh it made her squirm without being consciously aware of it. He smirked. "But, by all means, Squall, do tell me why you think I'd go anywhere with bitches like you?"
The blonde man swung his arm again, this time to wrap it around Quistis and tug her close. He felt her body go instantly rigid under his grasp, the emotional chill she gave off so cold he thought he might catch frostbite. "Wanting to catch up on old times, eh?" Eyes fell to Squall as he grinned.
"Stop playing games." Squall's tone had taken a turn for the worse. Releasing his hold on Rinoa, he stepped away from her and up to Seifer. Despite the height difference, the younger man had always managed to hold his ground. Looking at the sack of bones that used to be a worthy opponent, he had no worries that he would prevail if a fight were to occur. "You're coming with us."
"See, now, I just don't know about that." Seifer laughed again, rubbing at his chin where quite a bit of stumbles had built up. His body swayed as Quistis tried to escape his hold on her, more or less having been using her for support. "C'mere." He tugged her back against his side.
Quistis found herself, to her dismay, right back where she had been a second ago after a fleeting attempt to put distance between Seifer and herself. She could feel his ribs protruding under his shirt, smell the scent of dirt and blood; it made bile collect at the back of her throat. "Seifer, please, this isn't getting us anywhere."
"Where is this getting us, anyway, Squall?" Zell spoke again, looking like he was about to boil over with rage. He had stopped swinging his fists around, pressing them against his hips instead as he gritted his teeth in agitation.
"I don't have time for this. Irvine." Squall had turned to look at the silent cowboy and gave a nod.
The punch came too fast for Seifer to even register it in his mind. Irvine had thrown one directly into his jaw, knocking him back. He was about to follow up with a jab to the gut when the blonde crumpled to the floor. One hit knock out, Irvine had never been that lucky before.
Giving a groan of exasperation, Quistis tried to escape Seifer's sudden dead weight as it was all placed on her right side. Knees started to buckle before she was relieved of her troubles, Squall and Irvine having pulled the man off her sinking form.
--
It had taken the two men several minutes before they managed to get Seifer's weight evenly distributed on their shoulders. People had passed them in the hall without giving a second glance, as if it was a daily occurrence. Only one person had actually stopped. It was a woman that looked as if she spent half her life on a corner, with bottle born red hair and nails crudely grown to a two-inch length. "When he wakes up, tell him he owes me for the two jobs." She grinned to show a mouth full of jagged teeth, one that was missing half of them.
The men in the group had all gasped with shock at the woman's smile as she walked on, afraid of what kind of 'job' she was talking about. The women all looked affronted, Rinoa most of all. Quistis could have sworn she heard the young brunette mutter something about 'disgraceful' under her breath. She couldn't agree more.
"Time to go." Irvine groaned as he started forward, not waiting for Squall to lead. He didn't really want to be still carrying Seifer when he woke up. Even with the loss of muscle definition, the man was still heavy as fuck and was drunk off his rocker. Drunken rage was more powerful and untamed than any body builder could create.
Everyone had started forward, Rinoa and Selphie right behind their mates. Zell was still cussing under his breath about how bad of an idea this was. Quistis couldn't argue there, but his use of colorful metaphors was rather unnecessary. Something in the room caught her eye as she passed.
Pausing, she took a step back and peered into the semidarkness. There was definitely something metallic reflecting the light of the television in the corner of the room. Adjusting her glasses, Quistis slipped into the room for a closer look. If she hadn't already been on several missions that caused her to be around roaches and rodents, she would have screamed as a rat scurried over the toe of her boot. Instead she just made a strangled sound and stepped aside.
Upon reaching the corner of the room, after successfully avoiding all the takeout boxes and further rodents, she swore to Hyne she found the only clean spot in the entire apartment. Hyperion, Seifer's prized gunblade, lie in its original box, sheath just off to the side. So Seifer did have something of worth still.
Carefully, she lifted it from the box and slid it into the sheath. Perhaps it wasn't the best thing to give a drunken man his weapon of choice, but she didn't want to leave it behind. Somewhere, deep down inside, she knew he'd be happy to see it when he woke up. Of course, she'd make sure it was out of reach when he saw it.
--
By the time she had gotten out of the complex everyone else was already loaded back up into the van. The sliding door was still open, and Quistis could see Selphie holding up a syringe. The girl was eyeing it as if it was a complex puzzle, softly flicking the shot. "Hey, Quisty, you think one will be enough?" She asked when she spotted the blonde watching her.
"One would hope. He's not red dragon, Selphie. Hyne, he's not even as strong a low-level Grat anymore." Holding the sheathed gunblade over her shoulder and feeling its weight, she wondered if he could even carry it anymore without slumping to one side from how heavy it was.
"Okie dokie!" Selphie beamed and leaned over into the very back seat, where Quistis could only assume Seifer's unconscious form lay. It only took a giggle and a wiggle of the younger woman's left foot to let everyone know that the drunk in their van had not woken up.
"All done!" She poked her head back up, holding a now empty syringe up as if it was a trophy. Selphie scrambled over to sit next to her boyfriend, or rather, on top of him with one leg draped over the seat next to him. The syringe was deposited into the small waste container in the first aid kit.
Quistis clambered into the van, taking the only available seat next to Zell, who was still fuming. Placing Hyperion down at her feet, she leaned over and slid the door closed. With that, the van's engine rumbled to life and they were on their way again, the silence thicker than it had been on the way there.
--
"You brought that monster's weapon with you?" Zell had been eyeing the gunblade with distaste for several minutes, but only now found a calm voice long enough to ask.
"Yes, I did. He would have been more upset if he found we left it." Was Quistis' curt reply, not looking at the younger blonde man that was currently glaring at her.
"As if anyone gives a flying fuck how upset he is when he wakes up!" Zell shouted it so loudly it rattled the floorboard. "Hyne damn it!" He then sent a fist down into the seat cushion, causing a spring to pop out, not to mention bouncing Quistis in hers. "Why the hell did we go get him? He's a dirty bastard that needs to die!"
"We all feel the same, Zell." Squall's voice was oddly calm and collected, which meant he must fully agree and not like the situation any better than Zell did. "But," His voice changed to that of a low growl, fingers gripping the wheel tighter. "It was Cid's dying wish."
"He must have wanted his children back together again…" Rinoa had mumbled from the passenger seat, knees hugged to her chest. She was obviously taking it differently than most of the others. That might have something to do with Seifer being an old lover—or infatuation.