A/N: This story is almost completely alternate universe. Still takes place in a heavily modified Twilight Town, still has characters from the KH/FF franchises, but that's about it. Rated for blood, language, and implicit and/or explicit sexual content. This is slash, with multiple slash and het pairings but focusing mainly on Hayner and Seifer. Another author's note at the end of the chapter.
Seifer knocked on the hard wood door before opening it and entering. He never bothered to wait for permission, but he always knocked first. Tseng didn't usually mind him walking in on a conversation, but he hated people coming in unannounced, and the icy man was not someone the blond man wanted to piss off. Boss or not.
For once, the lead detective wasn't on his phone whispering in code, which was enough to set Seifer on edge. No point trying to read his body language, Tseng couldn't be moved to emotion by any less than a major catastrophe when he was on the job. His dark eyes regarded his subordinate for a moment, before he laced his gloved hands together and rested his chin on them, eyes flicking to the chair in signal. The other man settled into it and gestured for his leader to begin.
"Detective Almasy, I assure you if you repeat any of what you are about to hear to anyone outside of our organization, you will find yourself in a compromising position faster than you can blink," The Wutaian began, the use of his last name and the thinly veiled death threat only sharpening the younger detective's sense of dread. Seifer nodded mutely to show that he understood, trying to keep his curiosity from showing. He'd known Tseng for years, long before he joined the force, and the other had rarely been so formal with him.
"You've often questioned why I keep you off the Corneo case, despite your repeated attempts to persuade me otherwise, today is your answer. I've been saving you for this, since you graduated I've been planning this in secret. Everyone here is invested in this investigation one way or another, and the Mafia is all too aware of who they are. Except you. For all they know you're just another punk kid trying to make it as a vigilante with a badge.
"If you can succeed at this one job, we'll have all the evidence we need to put every one of Corneo's men behind bars, including the man himself. With one exception of course, we agreed amnesty to the person who's going to be handing over everything."
"With all due respect, Tseng," the blond bit out, eyes narrowed, "I don't really think we should give anyone remotely tied to that family anything, much less forgiveness."
"That's not your choice to make, Detective. I think you'd change your mind after dealing with them a while. They're an old friend of about half our organization, they'd escape the law one way or another. Besides, don't you think there might be at least one innocent man in the Mafia?"
Dark eyes squared off against ice blue ones until eventually Seifer looked away, internally scoffing at the suggestion. If the boss trusted this guy he had to be something, but even that didn't override his encompassing hatred for anyone remotely tied to that name. He caught himself about to raise his hand to rub his scar, held back the impulse knowing it would be all too telling to his superior.
"Regardless, your job for the next few weeks is fairly simple. Protect your charge with your life. Only three rules, don't get yourself shot, don't get our informant shot, and don't get attached."
"So, what, lethal force authorized and all that? You make it sound like I can do whatever the fuck I want besides that, maybe steal from the station's seizures?" He said flippantly, disguising his growing unease with the whole idea.
"Do whatever it takes to get the job done, we'll clean the mess you make up later. Roxas will have the keys and your budget ready for you by the end of the day. He'll give you the location of our meeting place, where you'll be debriefed fully and begin your mission. You'll be undercover, but there won't be a lot of secrecy. Hope you know how to pretend to be a dirty cop, otherwise Hayner will have his hands full improvising."
The name sparked a moment of recognition back in his mind and he pursued it for a moment before his eyes snapped to Tseng in shock. He couldn't be serious.
"No fucking way. You are not talking about Hayner Corneo. Please tell me you're joking or this is just some hilarious coincidence. I refuse-"
"You refuse nothing, Seifer. You will perform to your greatest ability, you will succeed, and you will protect Hayner Corneo with your life until he's gathered all the evidence we need. This has been going on for longer than you've been a Turk, and it could finally grant everyone the justice they demand. You have no choice," the lead detective snapped, his voice raised ever so slightly, brows furrowed hard over dark eyes. He'd never heard Tseng raise his voice, not once in the years he'd known the man. It effectively brought every argument he had down around his ears, he couldn't stand in the way of something so important it drove his superior to carefully restrained fury.
"Fine, I'll do it. I better get a fucking raise for this, by the way," he snarled as he got up and headed for the door.
"Seifer, if you succeed I'll give you a bonus big enough to let you retire twenty years early. You know who approves our budget. Just don't fuck this up."
The door slamming was Seifer's reply.
He finished most of the stack of paperwork he had for that day and was almost to Roxas's desk when he noticed a small gathering at his desired location. Olette, Pence, Axel, Reno and Zexion were there, the air oppressive around them as they all turned to regard him. He tensed and entered, looking to Roxas for some sort of explanation. It was his office after all.
"We all know about it, don't worry about revealing information. Every Turk here knows, Tseng pulled us all aside about a week ago. We all have personal ties to Hayner and we care quite a bit about the outcome of this operation. He's risking his life to help us, and if you fuck it up and get him killed you'd better leave town fast. He's a better man than any of us will ever be, so get rid of your stupid preconceptions about him right the fuck here, got it?"
He felt cornered, danger lurking under each of the spiky-haired blond's words. Scrambling for something to say in return, he finally spat out, "And why the hell do any of you know or care about the son of-"
"Don't finish that sentence, don't talk about him like that, you wanna know why we all care so damn much? He saved our lives. All of us. Stuck his neck out for us in one way or another and it's cost him a lot more than you can imagine. Don't ever treat him with disrespect," Axel ground out, verdigris eyes narrowed to slits, promises of fire dancing behind them.
Scowling as he attempted to process the only son of the most ruthless crime boss being a genuinely honorable person capable of saving the lives of others, he just snatched the files and keycards from Roxas and left, feeling the heat of several pairs of eyes on his back.
Who the fuck was Hayner and why did everyone treat him like a hero?
After nearly going back to ask Roxas if his budget was a mistake, Seifer came to the gradual realization that this was real. He had full no-questions access to the seizure locker and all its contents, and his available funds was all that plus half a million. He knew exactly where it was coming from and that they'd likely seize twice that if everything went over correctly, but it was still a terrifying amount of responsibility suddenly being dumped on him. He went home and stared at the TV for an hour before realizing he never turned it on and headed to bed.
At least the meeting was scheduled for noon, and he didn't have to show up to work before then. Maybe he could learn to tolerate the guy he was tasked with protecting if he had the basic decency to not wake others up at bumfuck in the morning. He grimaced when he thought of what the guy must look like, based on photos of the Don. He hoped the next few weeks would pass quickly.
Hayner watched smoke curl towards the ceiling with abject fascination as his lit cigarette hung loosely between his fingers. He did this too much, he thought, then wondered immediately after whether he was referring to his smoking or calling Roxas just to listen to him breathing on the other end. It was way past creepy but he still did it almost once a week these days. Naked from the waist up, smoking in the dark, listening to his best friend breathe quietly on his cell phone, in tailored suit pants that cost more than an average person makes in a year.
"You wanna talk about it, Hayner?" The person on the other end questioned, his voice rough and thick with sleepiness and stress.
"'M sorry Roxas. So sorry."
He could hear the detective's deep, confused breaths as he tried to discern the reason for the apology. Hayner didn't know himself, didn't know if he was apologizing for dragging his friend into this mess, for demanding to listen to him like a stalker at four in the morning, or just for existing. The brown-eyed man just didn't understand half the shit that came out of his mouth anymore.
"It's okay Hayner, I know you are. You don't have to be, but you are. This guy, he's pretty much an asshole, but I think he'll treat you right. If he doesn't-"
"You know I'm not going to say something even if he tries to shoot me. If he treats me like shit, it's no worse than what I deserve," he replied, taking another drag off his cancer stick. He could practically hear Roxas swearing at him for his shitty attitude, even if the other never said a thing.
"It'll be over soon Hayner. It's gonna be okay. Seifer's an ass, but he's good at his job. He'll keep you safe. We can actually meet in daylight again. Kairi and Namine can find honest work. You can-"
"Die of a bullet in my brain, just the same as I will if I don't do a damn thing. Die like a dog with nothing left but a name I don't fucking want. You know what the papers will say, Roxas? 'Last of the Corneo crime family killed by vigilante'. People will be thankful for my murder. There's nothing…" He trailed off, not sure what else he could say that would ruin things further.
"Fucking hell, Hayner. Don't-You know you have a place with us. We're gonna get through this, and you can live with any one of us and never have to worry about a damn thing for the rest of your fucking life, okay?"
His breath hitched as he forced a whisper past a throat that was quickly squeezing shut, "I'm scared Roxas."
The upside of communicating through phone was that his closest friend couldn't see him crying silently sitting in the penthouse of the biggest hotel in the city, ashes falling, still smoldering, to the floor from the ignored cigarette. But Roxas probably knew he was regardless.
"You're a dirty detective, looking for a quick in to the Mafia. You've got good information suggesting the department is after the Boss's son, Hayner, so you offer to protect him from them by following him around everywhere and claiming to be working your way in if questioned. We already have several scenarios set up to give your information some physical evidence. Meanwhile, Hayner starts snatching important documents and handing them over to us through you, blaming another member for the leak once they start to notice.
"Once we've got enough to get a warrant, we make sure to find out when they'll be all together and bust their asses. Any crimes committed by Hayner himself will be swept under the rug."
Seifer still didn't like that last part, but he nodded anyways. It wasn't much to work with for now, but he assumed Hayner would cover for him until he got the gist of it. At least it'd be hard to blow his cover, all he had to do was play a particularly nasty version of what he really was. His guns felt heavy in the holsters on either side of his ribcage.
"So how will I know which car to get into?" He asked, watching Tseng in the reflection of the windshield.
"The one that's illegally parked in a handicap only spot. Tinted windows, black vehicle."
He couldn't resist rolling his eyes. Fantastic. The guy he'd be following around like a puppy was apparently the kind of person who had no problem parking in a handicap spot just to be a douche. The car stopped a block from the street he'd find his mark on and Seifer got out, glancing back at Tseng before shutting the door. He felt out of place in street clothes in the commercial district of Twilight Town with guns under his jacket. Even more so as he approached the mark's car. He didn't want to protect this guy, would rather put a bullet through his eye just for being related to the crime boss.
Either way, it was means toward an end they all wanted. He opened the back passenger-side door and slid in, just as instructed. A glance at the man stretched in his seat across from him told him more than anyone else's testimony that his preconceptions were probably pretty fucking skewed from reality. He looked nothing like his father, although the bio he'd read had told him that much the actual person was still a far cry from what he expected; short sandy blond hair curling into wavy spikes above his head, long legs leading up to a lithe frame his suit didn't bother to hide. He had his right arm up on the seat between them, a black gloved hand dangling idly, and his body was angled to lean in the corner between the seat and his door. Arrogant, cocksure, challenging, but the way he kept his legs to himself told Seifer he probably wasn't a complete asshole.
Large brown eyes searched him as he buckled his seat belt, and it hit him: It was an act. His eyes didn't match the rest of him, rather than cocky they just looked sad and maybe a little lost. This was the front he put on to fool everyone else into seeing exactly what they expected from someone in his position. Hayner's brow furrowed before he pulled a nondescript cell phone out of his pocket and appeared to send someone a short text before sliding it back. He looked young and insecure when he let his mask slip, but it was back before the other could really analyze it.
"So, Seifer, not going to shoot me right off the bat? Misconceptions are a bitch, aren't they?" The sneer in his voice was obvious, but he said the detective's name carefully, as if testing its weight on his tongue.
"Got an entire station of people who'd end me if I tried. And yeah, they pretty much are," he conceded as the car pulled out and onto the road.
"So we're going to dinner with the Don so I can introduce you tonight, but first we need to pick up your suit and show you where you'll be spending the next couple of weeks of your life. Keep that pretty mouth shut for the first few days unless I gesture with my left hand. If I signal with my right hand, it means stop talking. Once the boys are used to you, you can talk without me around to babysit, just try your best not to make an ass out of yourself any more than you already will."
"Suit? But you don't know my-"
"Tseng gave me your measurements. He had to estimate most of them, but he's never been wrong before," Hayner cut him off matter-of-factly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for the lead detective to be able to guess his subordinate's inseam.
"How do you know him, or anyone at the station? Seems like half the Turks are members of your fan club."
The younger man's expression slammed shut and he twisted his body to look away, his left arm moving to rest across his stomach. Closed off, tense, irritated. Seifer couldn't figure out for the life of him why the other didn't want to talk about it, but he knew when not to press. Idly he noted that Hayner's left hand didn't have a glove on like his right, which was more than a little odd.
"When'd you join the academy?" The Don's son asked quietly, not making eye contact. The small talk didn't fit with his image any more than his eyes did and it was becoming increasingly obvious to the detective that he had no fucking clue who the person next to him was.
"When I was twenty, after my first two years of college. So three years ago. I joined the force shortly after, and I was moved up to detective after a year and a half. So I've been at it for about half a year."
"So who did my father's crime syndicate kill in your family? Parents, brother, sister, or…?" The brown-eyed blond queried with a nonchalance even more startling than the actual question.
"My parents. My father stole a document out of the pockets of one of the mid-level grunts and handed it over to the police, wanted the mob out of his city. You can guess where that went."
"They give you that scar?"
"Knife. I was eight, think they wanted to give me something to remember them by. How'd you know they killed someone in my family?"
Hayner flinched a bit at the mention of the age at which Seifer was orphaned, but otherwise stared straight ahead impassively.
"There's only one reason Tseng makes anyone a Turk. They've got to have a personal reason to want the Mafia taken down. They won't switch sides so long as they hold that grudge."
Seifer almost asked him why he wanted to do this, risk his life to take down his father's organization, the source of pretty much everything he had, but the blue-eyed detective guessed it would just cause him to shut down again. Besides, he honestly didn't care, so long as it was a good enough reason to keep him from betraying them. So he opted for what was hopefully a safer topic.
"So, you don't take after your old man at all."
The younger man snorted, "Gods, could you imagine? I take after my mother. Which is to say I look so far off from my father that he ordered a paternity test. Her family owed him a lot of money early on in his reign and she was essentially their way of paying off that debt. When I was five he was drunk and accused her of sleeping around on him because I didn't look anything like him, and shot her three times. I found her the next morning."
Well, fuck. How the hell does someone reply to that? He could just guess how the 'I'm sorry' bit would go over, Hayner feeling patronized and quite possibly losing any respect he might have for Seifer. He could attempt to brush it off with a 'childhoods suck', but that would hardly be appropriate.
"At least you've always got your memories of her, yeah? They may be tainted, but they're still there to hold onto."
Brown eyes focused on him and maintained their gaze, calculating. His expression slipped just enough to let his confusion show before the driver tapped three times on the tinted glass that separated his compartment from theirs and his attention was diverted.
"We've got three minutes until we arrive at my tailor. You're armed right? He'll expect that, so don't worry about it. He's probably going to touch you inappropriately, just ignore it. Guy gets too into his work to realize that feeling up someone's leg checking the inseam is not a socially acceptable thing to do. Marluxia doesn't mean anything by it."
"Fantastic. Just started this operation and already I'm going to get felt up by a stranger. You make one hell of a first impression, Hayner."
"I try. Oh, and just because it may not have occurred to you, never refer to me by my full name or last name. Ever. If we're in a formal setting, just call me Sir. Got it?"
"Got it. Not a name I'd like to answer to either."
"The only answer I give to that name is a fist. Even the boys know better now."
The car slowed to a halt as it angled to the left, Hayner getting out first and tapping twice on the driver's door before turning into the shop in front of them. They were parallel parked on the side of one of the main drags in and out of the commercial district. He walked around the car and followed his charge into the shop, immediately identifying all the exits (only the one behind them and maybe one in the backroom), potential threats (no one there but a man with pink hair tied back, dressed in a sharp suit), and cover (clothing racks and the back room).
"Marly, this is Seifer, my new bodyguard. I told you about him last week? Looks like you cleared the place out already, is everything set up?"
"Everything's ready in the back room, Sir."
Hayner nodded and gestured for the blond detective to follow the tailor into the back. He tensed warily but complied, wondering why the younger man wasn't coming with them, not wanting to leave him out of sight.
"He's armed and quite capable of defending himself for the ten or so minutes you'll be back here. Hayner had no one watching his ass before you and he's done fine. Well he did have two mob-appointed bodyguards, but he shot them before they could catch on to his plans. Just said they pissed him off and no one asked any further. Not like anyone cares what happens to a couple of hired goons," the pink-haired tailor rambled before shoving him into a spacious fitting room with wall-to-wall mirrors.
"I assume you know how to dress yourself, just come out when you're ready."
Of course he'd put on suits before, but nothing quite like this. He went about the motions removing his things and hanging them on the three unoccupied hooks on the door behind him. A hole had been cut into the mirror attached to the door to allow each hook to be screwed in. Two had the pieces of his suit. He felt oddly naked without his holster and guns, even before he actually removed his shirt and pants. Without the familiar weight it became even more clear that he was out of his element, had no idea what to expect from moment to moment.
As he put on the tailored and most likely ridiculously expensive suit, he pondered what Marluxia had said about their mutual employer shooting two men for getting too close. It stood to reason that the son of a crime lord would be violent and prone to murder, but it didn't fit with the man behind the mask from what he could see.
He knew firsthand what the eyes of a killer looked like, and Hayner's didn't fit the type. 'Innocent' his mind supplied, which was laughable. There were no innocent men in the mafia. Seifer opened the door and stepped out, not even having time to look for Marluxia before the man was grabbing him by the wrist and extending his arm.
"Looks like Tseng guessed spot on again. Superhuman, I'm telling you. Looks good in a suit too. Rufus likes spending too much on him," the tailor continued to ramble as he checked the fit of the suit. The detective assumed he talked mostly because he liked the sound of his own voice more than to be sociable. Judging by the time that had to go into feathering his hair like that and the flattering bordering on unprofessional cut of his suit, he was probably somewhat vain.
"There's no room for your holsters because the Don specifically has everyone checked at the door when he meets with anyone, even his own son. Paranoia comes with the territory I suppose. Everything fits right, so go ahead and change back into your street clothes and I'll meet you out front. The suit's being delivered to Hayner's suite later. Oh, and don't tell anyone that I know about our boy's schemes. I wasn't supposed to know, but I can see deception from a mile away, takes one to know one, right? I'd been planning the same thing for a while, just so happens his position allows him greater freedom."
"And what do you get out of the mob's downfall? Aren't they your biggest clients?" The blond replied carefully, reassessing the man next to him.
"Oh they are, but they often don't pay me for my services. Essentially I do half my work for free to avoid them taking out my kneecaps. It's not very profitable for me. And besides, who wants to be known best as the mob's bitch?"
There was an undercurrent of truth in the man's words, but he wasn't telling the whole story. He could hear where bits were skipped over, tiny tells where the voice wavered over something it wasn't supposed to say and moved on to the next. Nodding somewhat late, he turned back into the fitting room and shut the door behind him. It felt calming putting his shoulder holsters back on and he couldn't help sliding out the clip and rechecking it just to do it. He took a breath and walked back out to the front of the store.
His charge nodded in recognition, shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked out of the store. Hayner's posture was angry, intimidating, and startling different from the relaxed way he carried himself earlier. Maybe someone had called him while Seifer was in the back.
"Everything alright, Sir?" The detective asked once they were situated in the car, feeling the way the honorific ground against his tongue. He didn't like referring to people younger than him as "Sir" even though he had to do so every day in his line of work.
"The car and my suite are places where you refer to me by my name assuming we don't have guests. And yes, everything is fine."
"Sure they are Hayner. Which is why you go from being relaxed to looking like a prowling wolf. Whatever, your business, not mine."
"You are not nosey enough for a detective, you know that?" The younger man spat back.
"I know how to tell where pressing for information is only going to get me punched."
"I wouldn't-I'm not going to hit you for something like that, Gods," he replied, scrubbing his face for a second before leaning his head on his hands, elbows on his knees. Deflated, tired, young. Seifer realized with a start that the file Tseng gave him put the sandy blond's age at nineteen and four months. Fuck. He always acted so much older than he was it was hard to remember, but regardless of mental maturity he was still the age of most kids fresh out of high school. A litany of 'This is so fucked up. What the fuck' echoed through his head as he felt a stress headache coming on. Why did he sign up for this job?
Oh that's right, he didn't.
"So you live in a hotel? Any particular reason?" The detective changed the subject, entirely aware he was being about as subtle as a brick to the face.
"The Don's got his safe houses and that ugly-ass mansion in the woods on the market side of town, but I'm not a huge fan of people coming and going as they please. This way the only ones who get in are me or someone I've actually invited. Besides, I like the noise of the commercial district better than the ponderous lifestyle of the market district, you know?"
Noise being a euphemism for anonymity, Seifer guessed. So Hayner was private, disliked being involved with people in the mob or even talking with them, and didn't like his infamy. Probably kept his head down in crowds and pretended for a few hours in the push of the commercial district he was just a normal kid taking a couple years off college to get his life sorted out.
"You ever want to be anything? Like, career plans when you were a kid? I bet you wanted to be a fireman," the blue-eyed man asked quietly, wondering how he managed to fuck the whole operation up so badly he was already sympathizing with a guy who by all counts had murdered at least two men. The other man's teeth flashed in a smile and he leaned back in his seat though, so maybe it was worth it. He was just making his charge feel comfortable.
"Close, but no. If I told you, you'd just laugh. It was a stupid dream. How about you, always want to grow up to be a cop?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Wanted revenge, wanted to prevent that sort of shit from happening again. But seriously, what did you want to be? I swear I won't laugh. Scout's honor."
Hayner shook his head, "No way in hell you were ever a Boy Scout. Honestly?" He looked down at his hands shyly, "I wanted to be in law enforcement. A cop…or a detective. Stupid. Anything seems possible when you're a kid, you know?"
Meanwhile the older man was quietly freaking the fuck out, because there was 'no way this guy wanted to be a cop it's too normal and maybe a little bit cute in a horrible twisted way.' Next chance he got, he was seriously just going to punch Tseng in the face for forcing this on him, 'for not rescuing this kid when he was like ten and maybe still thought he could dream'.
"It's not stupid. Everyone's allowed to dream. Just because it doesn't pan out doesn't mean you can't do something decent with your life, make yourself happy."
"Not everyone gets a happy ending, Seifer. Sometimes you just live like a dog and die like a dog. End of story."
"You are such a downer. I guess you don't have any plans for after this is all over?"
Hayner just looked at him once, shook his head, and laughed bitterly. It was clearly the end of the conversation, but it wasn't as tense as before. If he was going to pretty much live with this guy for the next few weeks it'd be nice if they were on decent terms. He enjoyed not being killed in his sleep.
They arrived at the hotel and took the elevator up, the younger man just leaning against the side near the doors silently. It wasn't terribly surprising no one followed them in, both blonds gave off a certain air of inapproachability. They got out at the fifth floor, the highest the elevator would go without a maintenance override.
"I told them to alter the programming so it would only go this high. In the event someone tries to break in, I'd much rather only have to worry about the stairs. Easier to pick them off as they come up, you know?"
"Makes good sense to me. Although, living here by yourself and forbidding anyone to visit must get pretty lonely, you sure you're not just pathologically aloof?"
"Wouldn't make a difference if I was, would it? I talk with Roxas, Pence and Olette on the phone sometimes up here. No one to check who I'm talking to. They're, ah, old friends I guess you could say. Two years older than me, but the age gap is hardly noticeable anymore. Haven't physically seen any of them for three years."
He was staring out of a string of four windows that spanned the height of the room on the far side of the center of the suite. The room itself was muted in its opulence, modern art rugs and couches in black and white, with green accents across the room. It generally worked well together, seemed much more cohesive than a bunch of Victorian pieces all vying for the spotlight.
"Did you decorate the place yourself?" Seifer asked, mentally kicking himself for the stupid question the moment it was out of his mouth. What the fuck did it matter if he had?
"Yeah, I did, like it?" The brown-eyed man answered, turning around to regard him oddly. They seemed to be surprising each other quite a lot.
"It suits you. I suppose I could put up with it for a few weeks, if I had to."
A small twitch of Hayner's lips showed that he had understood the joke for the compliment it was, "Well good, since you will have to. Your side of the suite is on your left, I never use any of those rooms so trash the place if you really want to. Don't play loud music, don't fire any weapons unless there's a threat, and don't enter my room without knocking. If I tell you to go away, just shut up and do it, if I don't answer that also means you should go away because I'm probably sleeping. We clear on the rules?"
"And if the hotel is on fire and you're asleep? Should I just leave you here, or bring coffee to appease you?" The blond detective returned, and really, what the fuck, he was making witty banter like they were friends or something. He may have given up on hating this guy, but they were not going to be friends.
"If there's a fire, put it out and leave me alone. Problem solved. But seriously, never go into my room unannounced, I might accidentally shoot you and I really don't need a cop bleeding out on my floor."
"Got it. So, do you ever invite anyone up here? Like, for dinner or to stay the night?" He needed to know if and when he'd have to deal with outsiders in his area of operation.
"I don't…Whatever. Yeah, sometimes I bring two girls up here just to talk over dinner. Friends of mine. Non-identical twins before you even try to make that joke. They're ah…some of my father's acquisitions," he answered, breaking eye contact and roaming over to flop into one of the couches. He was embarrassed, fumbling for a way to relay the information without casting a harmful light on either party.
"I'm going to hazard a guess and say your relationship with them is platonic, but no one else knows that."
"That's getting really creepy really fast by the way. But yeah. No one else touches them because they seem to think women are property and I own these two, and they usually end up being the only pleasant human contact I have regularly."
"Do you usually have a plan for when they come, or is it spur of the moment? I need to know with enough time to disappear."
"What do you mean? You're invited too, moron. Do you think I'd be sharing my home with you if I didn't think you were a decent enough person to spend time with? Besides, Tseng seems to like you enough to give you the job in the first place, so you can't be that much of a raging asshole."
Ice-colored eyes broke their contact with the speaker, quickly finding the floor as Seifer composed himself because that was not something he was prepared for or even knew how to react to. Who the hell was this kid, and why did he feel the need to flip every notion the detective ever had about people in the mob on its fucking head? This job was going to kill him.
"Did you ever get that revenge you wanted, by the way?" Hayner asked quietly, dropping the subject like the prior conversation never happened.
"Yeah, I did. Not long after I joined the force, before I became a detective. Wasn't that hard, just paid a few people off, had someone pass on an invitation to them, shot them and left their bodies in an alley before dumping the gun somewhere else. Only Tseng ended up tracing their deaths back to me, it's why he promoted me a while after, made me a Turk. Never explained how he knew I'd done it though. Probably makes me a soulless bastard that I honestly don't feel bad for murdering two people."
"If you hadn't, I would have. Tseng asked me to track back through the records to find something about a man and woman being killed after a tip from the cops placed them as threats. After some searching I got their last name, Almasy, and found out who killed them. Passed the names onto Tseng. That's how he knew, he recognized the names. You were the only one with enough motivation to try something like that."
"So you knew about my parents before you ever asked me? Isn't that cheating?"
"It's called an icebreaker. Got you talking, didn't it?" The younger man quipped back before grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the small table next to him and pulling a lighter out of his left pocket. Seifer dropped into the couch opposite him, almost tempted to put his feet up on the glass table between them to see his host's reaction. Hayner lit his cigarette and took a pull from it before taking it away from his mouth and letting it dangle idly from his gloved fingers. The way blue smoke curled out of his slightly parted lips was…well, distracting.
"When'd you take up smoking?"
"About three years ago I think. When I first made contact with Tseng and we started clandestine meetings to cook up this plan of ours."
"When you stopped seeing Roxas, Pence and Olette in person regularly? Any coincidence there?"
"They were cops. Straight from high school to the academy, passed with flying colors, broke records, you know the story. A year later they were all Turks and completely unreachable. And yeah, maybe I took up smoking because of that too. Got a problem with it?"
"Just don't think someone your age should take up such a bad habit. And now you're going to tell me you do coke or something in your spare time, right?"
His charge's mouth twisted into a bitter, cruel smile before he spoke, "You're implying I'm not going to reach old age because I smoke? You know better than that, no one gets out of this life alive. And no, cocaine reminds me too much of being shuffled from one safe house to the other when I was younger. There are dealers in the mob, of course, so the higher-ranked members got free crack and partook far too often."
Fatalistic, extremely stressed, lonely. Probable situational depression, level of hopelessness making suicidal thoughts and tendencies likely. Successful suicide currently unlikely due to goal of completing the operation, lack of plans for future suggest planned suicide subsequent to operation. Seifer frowned as he stored his conclusions for later and pulled his phone out to text Tseng.
-Sched suicide watch for H after op-
"Every time you make that expression you say something that proves you've seen right through everything I said and found the things I didn't intend to say. I take it back, you are nosy enough to be a detective, you just internalize everything," the brown-eyed man mused, hunched forward to rest his left elbow on his knee, hand cradling his chin in a thoughtful way. He was trying to puzzle out the detective, figure out what made him tick; it was a familiar look.
A game of chess, he suddenly realized. It was like they were playing an invisible chess game, each observation a move, constantly outsmarting the other as they neared their goal of understanding the other completely, knowing exactly how to take the other down. It was dangerous and maybe a little pointless, but all the same it was the thrill of the challenge that spurred them both on. He doubted either of them would like what they found in the end.
"You do realize if we continue like this-" Hayner began carefully before being cut off by the other.
"Mutually assured destruction, I know. Do you want to stop?"
"Of course not. Most fun I've had in a long time."
"This is completely fucked up, you understand that, right?" The blue-eyed man added for good measure, had to make sure they were both on the same page.
"Have since you got into my car," the younger of the two was smirking now, taking one last pull of his cigarette before smashing it in the simple crystal ashtray next to him. This was too easy and both of them knew it. Whatever this was would go down in flames when it ended, but that was okay. Better to burn hot and fast than to never feel the touch of fire. Or maybe he was just a little self-destructive.
Seifer's pocket vibrated faintly and he pulled it back out of his pocket, wondering what Tseng wasn't doing that would allow him to answer back so quickly. Or maybe this operation just took precedence over everything else.
-Already have. Have you called a truce yet? I think you would enjoy working together if you could just stop trying to hate him.-
The message was fairly typical of his Wutaian boss, his texts were always fully functional sentences with proper punctuation. He typed out something simple enough to do the job without forcing him to elaborate and hit send.
-yes we have this is fucked up by the way-
"The way you stop what you're doing to reply tells me that's either your boss or a very angry, very hot girlfriend," The sandy-blond man said conversationally, Seifer seeing the lure for what it was.
"I don't have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend for that matter," the older blond answered easily, eyeing the other for his reaction. Brown eyes flicked up from where he was lighting another cigarette, surprised, already calculating his next move. Maybe after the whole ordeal was over they could play actual chess, it would be poetic.
"Did Tseng ever tell you why I'm doing this? Or was that not something he thought you needed to know?"
A strange way of avoiding the obvious follow up questions about Seifer's sexuality, but it was probably important to something later on in Hayner's strategy. It was all means to an end.
"He didn't explain, and I don't ask questions unless it's important. Either you can tell me later or you'll just leave me wondering the rest of my life."
Something odd flashed on the younger man's face but it disappeared below his mask again before the other could pin it down. He was good at expressing only the emotions he wanted to, or that others wanted to see; it was only his eyes that couldn't keep up with the act, kept letting his true emotions bleed through.
"Are you planning on removing and relocating your loaded firearms any time soon, or should I continue to keep mine on my person as well to avoid appearing unguarded?"
His wording seemed to point to them being in that awkward place the conversation seemed to go after Seifer said something Hayner didn't want to think about. It also mentioned the other man being armed currently, which was news to the detective. His jacket was too tight around the torso for there to be holsters there, so the next most logical place to keep two firearms was tucked into the waistband of his pants. He didn't move like they bothered him, or even like he knew they were there, implying that he'd worn them there every day for at least half a year.
"Sorry, I forget I have them on. Have trouble leaving the job behind," he answered with false sheepishness, pulling his twin .45 caliber pistols from where they were hidden against his ribcage. He checked the safety before setting them on the table in front of them, feeling oddly like this was some sort of peace offering. Hayner followed in kind, reaching behind him and pulling out a .45 and a .9, the smaller caliber pistol correlating to his ungloved left hand. His still-lit cigarette dangled loosely from his lips, the smoke curling lazily from it just barely failing to obscure the brown eyes staring straight into Seifer's.
"Why do you have two different caliber guns, and why do you only wear one glove?" The older of the two asked, knowing the questions were related, but lacking answers for either.
"You're the detective, figure it out yourself," Hayner snapped, cigarette bobbing a bit as he spoke around it, setting his guns down on the table across from the two other firearms. It seemed almost random the way he refused to answer certain things and had no trouble talking about others but the scarred blond knew better, there was some thread connecting all of them. He just had to find it.
"What time are we meeting the Don tonight?"
"Seven fifteen. In his favorite restaurant, it's ground level, large windows, on one of the main drags of the commercial sector. Completely indefensible, and he always reserves the whole place, sits at the table in the center in full view of the street."
"So essentially the worst place possible? He's counting on his name alone being able to scare away anyone else."
"And we won't be armed. There will be two guards posted at the entrance with firearms, but they could easily be picked off before they could do anything. It's stupid and cocky and he's going to get killed for it one of these days. Not soon enough if you ask me, but I'd rather neither of us be there when they open fire."
"Is there any reason someone would decide to try and pick him off tonight more than any other night?"
Hayner took another drag off his dwindling cigarette before saying, "The Don mentioned something about a deal that locked one of the smaller crime lords out of his coke supply. So yeah, there's that. Not like anyone needs a special reason. There's not a person in this city that doesn't want to put lead between his eyes."
The nineteen year-old's cell phone rang quietly in his pocket, his eyebrows drawing down furiously when he read the number.
"I've got to take this in my room, I trust you can entertain yourself while I'm gone."
His demeanor had changed again, cold, hard and cruel. It was more than mood swings, he seemed to be switching between two different personas. One dealt with his father and the family business, the other was the carefully masked, terrified, thoughtful Hayner he'd been talking to up until now. The level of cognitive dissonance the man was experiencing was probably altering his mental stability and sense of self to a fairly severe degree.
Seifer absently texted Fuujin to see how her current assignment was going, then quietly moved to look out at the city from one of its highest points. From here the world seemed distant; just silent, meaningless movement within a confined area. No wonder Hayner probably liked to wander the streets, if this is all he saw day in and day out.
"What the fuck do you want?" Hayner spat into his phone, glancing at the door to his room to make sure it was shut for about the third time.
"Temper, temper, kiddo. If you're going to employ me behind your father's back, you'd best treat me well, otherwise I could just run to daddy with your little schemes. We both know he'd have no problems ordering us to kill you. Probably want us to do it slowly and let him watch, he's a sick fuck, isn't he?"
The blond silently ground his teeth before answering, "Pleasant as always, Xigbar. What did you call me for? Unless you honestly bothered me just to remind me how I'm fucked six ways to Christmas."
"Nah, you do a good enough job worrying about that without out my help. Just called to say me and my boys are ready for tonight. You're really sure about the plan, right? I could-"
"Do things exactly as planned, Xigbar. I'm counting on it. You're the best shot in this damn town, I'm trusting you to be able to pull this off."
"No, you're paying me to be able to pull this off. I won't miss. I want out as much as you, kiddo. If it's for my freedom I won't fuck it up."
"Just be careful, don't hit Seifer. Not even a graze."
"Kid, I can shoot a playing card in half down the edge from twenty paces, I do know how to aim. I won't hurt your new boyfriend."
"He's not-" The brown-eyed blond choked a bit on the words and couldn't quite get them out around the lump of fear in his throat.
"I was kidding, lighten up a bit. See you tonight kiddo, I expect the payment wired to my account by midnight."
"I've got it taken care of. Goodbye, Xigbar."
He snapped the phone shut and sank down onto his bed, holding his head in his hands. Breathing carefully to collect himself, he counted to thirty. Much longer and the other occupant of the suite would start to get suspicious. He got up on steady legs and walked back out, tucking his phone back into his pocket after erasing all history of the call.
"Sorry about that," he mumbled as he sat back down on the couch, definitely not mentally storing the image of Seifer's face staring in fascination at the city below from the window. There was just a split second of unguarded expression before the detective noticed he wasn't alone, but in that time he looked…younger, less burdened. His shoulders didn't sag from the weight of his duties and memories like they did now.
"I'm not going to stop you from doing your work, even if I don't think living two lives is good for you. You don't need to apologize, it's not like I'm a guest, this is a job and we have roles to play."
"And we dance like marionettes until they cut our strings," the younger said bitterly, more to himself than anything else.
"I don't think any puppeteers are fucked up enough to come up with this on their own."
Awesome, so apparently the detective also had excellent hearing, either that or he could read lips.
"I think you'd be surprised."
Which, yeah that didn't make a whole hell of a lot of sense outside of his own head and now the blue-eyed man was giving him a strange look. He just shrugged and pretended like it was a completely normal thing to say before flopping back down on the couch. They had two hours to kill yet before they even needed to think about getting ready and he wasn't quite sure what to suggest. He could just leave the other man to his own devices and meander about the city for a bit, but that seemed rude and Seifer would probably follow him anyways. So instead he lit another cigarette and waited for the scarred man to break the silence first.
"How did you meet Roxas, Pence and Olette? It seems odd that you'd not only cross paths with all of them, but become close friends," the detective asked, still staring out the window.
"Before Corneo hit the top of the food chain I used to just wander the streets alone in the afternoons, sometimes they'd come by after school. Eventually they got up the courage to ask me why I didn't attend school and why I was in such a dangerous place by myself. I was twelve I think, they were all in high school. I guess I was kind of frightened, I wasn't used to people asking questions, so I ran. Roxas…" Hayner paused to laugh at the memory, still fresh after all these years, "Took after me and tackled me to the ground, demanded to know where my parents were. Instead of abandoning me right then and there when he heard who my father was, he took me to his house and fed me cookies.
"We've been pretty close ever since, until their careers forced us apart. It's part of why they became Turks. They just…want me to live my life in peace."
Seriously, why was he just spilling his life story to this guy at the drop of a hat? Seifer was learning what he could and couldn't ask far quicker than anyone else had, and he honestly seemed to care about the answer. Even if this was a game, those ice-colored eyes warmed a bit when he laughed, and he was sure he didn't imagine it. There was some spark of interest there, if he were to be optimistic he'd call it the beginnings of friendship, or at least a friendly working relationship.
He took a heavy drag of his cigarette and let his head loll back against the back of the couch while he blew the smoke back out, watching it curl towards the ceiling. This was way more fucked up than he expected it to be, and that was really saying something.
"How long do you plan on just staring out the windows? It's going to get old in an hour or so, trust me."
"So what do you do when you're not staring aimlessly out the windows, then?"
He couldn't help it, his lips curled upward at the edges just a bit. He checked his watch just to make sure, but he knew they had time. Telling his companion he'd be a few minutes, he retreated back into his room and quickly changed into a simple pair of jeans, a t-shirt, sneakers with rainbow laces, and a dark hoodie. He stuffed his cigarettes and lighter into his right front pants pocket and reemerged, sans one gun and his glove. The remaining gun was tucked securely into his waistband under his hoodie.
Seifer seemed confused but snatched and stowed his firearms and followed Hayner out the door obediently regardless, if after raising one eyebrow questioningly at his rainbow shoelaces. He hardly felt the need to justify his footwear though, so he just shrugged before taking the stairs down. With practiced ease he jumped over the railings onto the flight below until he was on the ground floor, his companion following in kind with a little less accuracy but enough grace to make up for it.
It was something he noticed in the back of his mind, the detective was more heavily muscled than most of the other Turks, yet moved with the same sort of savage grace of a predator. Like a wolf, he supposed; made of solid, compact muscle that was easily maneuverable despite its weight. He was carefully not thinking about what that body would feel like pinning him to a wall because that would be unprofessional.
Once they reached the ground floor he opened the maintenance exit to the back alley and flipped his hood up. It wasn't cold, Twilight Town having a more moderate climate and it being early spring, but he'd rather not be recognized or approached. He stayed mostly to the alleyways, moving quickly towards his destination as he lit a cigarette. The shadow on his heels made the trip a bit different from normal, but the other man's presence wasn't overbearing.
"Hayner! Why'd you bring a cop?" Shouted a familiar voice from above, and the addressed looked up to find the two teens he'd been looking for sitting up on the third landing of the fire escape.
"He's off-duty, don't worry about it. My new shadow. You two gonna get down here? I've got an hour to kill and you mentioned something about working with a pirate? You never pick up your damn phone, Vaan."
The platinum blond boy laughed before jumping down from his perch, followed by his ever-present companion, Kytes. Penelo was probably off working an honest job while they both dabbled in the less-than-legal areas of trade. Which he supposed he really couldn't judge them too harshly for, considering.
"So does he have a name, or should I just make one up?"
"Last time you just chose a name for someone they ended up shooting at you out of annoyance, I really don't think that's a good idea. This is Seifer, Seifer this is Vaan and Kytes. Friends of mine," he ended with an obvious statement, but he was too busy studying the scarred man's facial expression, or rather lack thereof, to really come up with something intelligent.
The detective simply looked between the two strangers and nodded once, giving them a small smirk. Reassuring them he wasn't about to report them. He probably wouldn't even if he was on regular duty.
"So what kind of piracy do you deal with? Magic artifact trafficking?"
Vaan blinked quickly in disbelief before answering cautiously, "Yeah, actually. How did you know?"
"Mana has a certain smell to it, it's very distinctive. Magicite and materia leave heavy traces behind. You should be a bit more careful. Use something to cover it up, or the wrong person is going to figure you out as soon as they get close enough. Do you have a particular client you're working for?"
"Why should I tell you?" The smoky-eyed blond bit back, not liking how quickly Seifer had gotten the upper hand.
"Because I probably know them already. I used to do the same thing for a while. A long time ago. Your primary materia buyer is probably a guy by the name of Cloud, right? Looking specifically for a black materia and high level summons? And for any information regarding a guy named Zack Fair."
Hayner had to try hard to keep from laughing at the expression on Vaan's face. Some cross between bewilderment and respect that just looked beyond comical. Though he did wonder at what point in Seifer's life the detective dabbled in black market dealings.
"Did you work for Cloud then?" Kytes asked, finally speaking up.
"Him? No, this was several years ago, before he even showed up. He contacted me through my boss, Tseng, asked if I could keep an eye out on my busts. I specialize in that area on the job. Tseng owes him for some things that happened in the past, so he never gets touched, even if everyone knows he's buying underground."
"You ever hear anything about that guy he's looking for?" Vaan asked, apparently over his shock.
"Zack? All I know is that he was in a special black-ops unit employed by Rufus's father, one of the last remaining top-ranked members of it, and supposedly died on the outskirts of another city. Cloud was on some pretty serious shit when it happened, doesn't remember things clearly. The body was never found, and while a normal person would assume that some wild animals dragged it off, Cloud isn't among that classification and hopes to find him alive somewhere."
"Were they friends or something? Why would he care that much?" Kytes asked, crossing his hands over his chest and tipping his head to the side. He choreographed his thoughts too easily, it was always plain as day what was going on inside his head. He'd learn soon enough, though Hayner would rather he never have to.
"Or something. They were lovers," the blue-eyed detective returned with finality, the statement pretty much summing the whole situation up quite neatly.
Kytes was the only one who seemed remotely fazed by the news, Vaan had probably already guessed as much. Judging by the faint bruise on his neck, he was involved in more than just business with the man he was now working for. Not the best idea, but then he didn't know anything about the situation or the man himself, and the blond thief could take care of himself.
"Well, either way he pays better than everyone else, and I haven't heard about any Bahamuts terrorizing nearby cities so I guess he can't be all that bad. Most people with the amount of materia he has would be tearing the place up by now," Vaan said while putting his hands behind his head in his classic 'I don't give a fuck' gesture.
"He's keeping it out of the hands of those sorts of people. But he's also a high-level mercenary, so he uses them on the job. All things considered, he's a good guy, if a little bit fucked in the head."
Of course, everyone who lived in or near Twilight Town was just a little bit certifiably nuts. Everyone else chose to get as far away as possible. He flicked his cigarette butt into the nearest trash can.
"So, your new boss, what's the name he gave you?" Hayner started back on the original topic of the conversation.
"Balthier. Has a Viera partner named Fran, kind of cold."
"How'd you get those two to take on an apprentice? They're classically a duo, never heard of them even considering it," the oldest man interjected, showing genuine interest. Hayner was rather pleased with how the trip had turned out, it revealed a lot about the guy he'd have to live with. The detective was much more involved in the dark underbelly of the city he worked in than the brown-eyed blond had originally guessed.
"I may have stolen a one of a kind chunk of magicite from a collector's home…The same target they were after. I made off with it, eventually they caught up with me and made me a deal. An apprenticeship for the magicite. So far they haven't killed me, so I guess I'm doing okay. They seem to like having an extra person to run jobs."
"You're going to get yourself killed one of these days."
He'd have to contact the pirates his friend was working with and threaten them, just to make sure it wouldn't be by their hands he ended up in pieces in a gutter. What are friends for, if not sending criminals death threats?
"Kept anything for yourself so far?" Seifer asked the thief, curiosity betrayed by the cant of his lips.
"Promise you won't arrest me?" The platinum blond returned, smirk firmly in place before pulling a small, dark red materia and a glowing blue stone Hayner didn't recognize. The scarred detective held out his hands, expression carefully blank. Vaan studied him a moment before handing the artifacts over, eyes remaining wary.
"Bahamut ZERO, and a shard of nethicite. This shard is real, isn't it? Where the fuck did you find this?" He asked as he handed the items back over.
"Can't tell you that. It's the only one I've gotten so far though, if it makes you feel better."
"Not bad though. Try not to get in too deep. Sooner or later the life's gonna come back to bite you."
Vaan's eyes glittered with the invincibility of youth, he'd remember the advice, but probably never heed it. But that was just the way he was. It was kind of endearing.
"So how about you Hayner? What are you doing that's so bad you've got a cop following you around?"
He simply lit a cigarette and smirked, "Can't tell you that, you know better."
"You're never any fun, Hayner," Kytes said, just a hint of a whine entering his voice.
"Don't like to talk business when I'm on the streets, same way you don't like to talk about the streets when you're working."
"Any plans tonight?" Vaan asked, eyes flicking between him and Seifer rather suggestively. Hayner couldn't keep his eyes from rolling at the implication.
"Just meeting the Don for dinner. Not sure what to do after that. Why?"
"Nothing much. Just wanted to know if you wanted to go for a walk," the grey-eyed teen returned, to his credit managing to keep emphasis off the last word. The sandy-haired man knew exactly what he meant without him adding verbal air quotes as he was so oft inclined to do. Then again, he was only seventeen, people his age tended to do that sort of thing, didn't they?
"Might. I'll call you if so."
If he did go out tonight it would be alone, he'd have to sneak past Seifer and would have to weigh whether he wanted to face the hell that would await him on his return. There's no way he could be out for hours in the middle of the night without the detective using his Turk-senses and realizing the suite was missing one occupant.
He checked his watch, realizing their conversation had taken a good half an hour beyond the time it took to get here. If they wanted to be ready they'd have to leave fairly soon. Taking a long drag of his cigarette he noted he'd have to get another pack to last the night with his father. Hopefully the Don wouldn't notice he'd started smoking three times as much as he used to. Fucking hell.
"We should leave soon if we're going to have time to change and get ready, Hayner," the older blond said suddenly, and he should really quit that habit of reading Hayner's fucking mind.
"Seifer, can I talk to Hayner alone for a moment?" Vaan said suddenly, eyes widening slightly as he remembered something. After a second's hesitation the older man nodded and started walking back through the alley towards their hotel, quickly disappearing around a corner. Where he was most likely lying in wait, just in case. Had to be interesting being paid to stalk people.
Once he was sure the detective was gone, the thief turned back to Hayner and produced a necklace. Nothing special really, just a stone secured on a simple black cord. A second glance noted that the stone, while small and seemingly insignificant, was changing colors seemingly at random, running the entire spectrum.
"Magic?"
"Yeah. Just…wear it all the time from now on, okay? I don't know what the fuck you've got going on in that head of yours, but you're always saving everyone but yourself. I know whatever plan you have doesn't involve protecting yourself, maybe this will help. Despite what you think, there are people who will miss you if you die."
Which didn't explain at all what the pendant was supposed to do, but Vaan would never do anything to hurt his friends. They were all he had now. Wordlessly Hayner put the necklace on and tucked it under his shirt and hoodie, the weight of it settling heavily on his sternum. He nodded and started to walk away when both boys pulled him into a tight hug. Wrapping his arms around both of them, he felt oddly like he didn't belong. Like he'd stolen someone else's place in their embrace. Every time someone touched him it was the same, it felt like the contact was for someone else. 'Someone deserving', his mind supplied helpfully.
It was a normal feeling, not belonging anywhere. He didn't have a home, didn't have anyone to really call his anymore, only had one or two possessions he actually had a right to own. Sometimes he wondered if he existed at all. The arms around him eventually withdrew and he smiled and said something of no import before leaving at a jog. He didn't know why, but he just wanted out of there as quickly as possible.
Seifer appeared out of fucking nowhere and kept pace easily, eyeing the other calculatingly but not asking questions. The brown-eyed man wouldn't have answered them anyway. Not right now. They made it back to the hotel quickly, entering through the front and using the elevator, Hayner feeling too lazy to climb so many flights of stairs. They entered the suite quietly, the silence only broken when the younger man spoke up to say that the detective's suit should be waiting for him on his bed.
"Do you know who you are, Hayner?"
He halted his escape to his bedroom to turn towards the speaker, because there was no way he could run from that kind of question. What the hell was he talking about?
"Of course I do, my name is Hayner Corneo and I'm the son of-"
"Not that, idiot. I mean, do you know who you are?"
His heart sank and a feeling that was a cross between having his insides frozen and being hit in the face with a brick settled across him. There was no fucking way he was having this conversation, ever.
"I'm no one, and I'd rather keep it that way."
He immediately crossed the remaining distance to his section of the suite and made a beeline for his bedroom, slamming the door with a little more force than he intended. The truth was, he had no idea who he was anymore. Was he really just the son of an evil man who murdered people in cold blood to protect himself? Or was he a man who helped others get out of the life he was forced to live? Or just some nineteen year-old with no hopes or dreams or future. He grabbed the first thing he could reach, an ash tray, and flung it towards the nearest wall. The clear glass object shattered loudly and brought him back to reality. And now Seifer probably thought he had major anger issues as well as showing a tendency toward spouting nonsense.
He slumped on his bed and closed his eyes, breathed out, and shut off. In the real world he went through the motions of getting ready for the dinner, but he was far off in his head, trying to get so deep he wouldn't wake back up. Or maybe woke up as someone else. He just wanted this whole thing to be over.
A tap on his door alerted him that he'd taken his time getting ready and he tucked his hair into his fedora hurriedly before throwing the door open without warning. At which point both he and Seifer just stood there and stared like they'd never seen each other before. It should have been incredibly awkward, but he was too busy noticing how well the suit fit the detective to really pay attention to anything else. He looked professional, but the clothing fit a little tighter than was absolutely necessary, most likely because Marluxia wanted to kill him. He knew the man with ice-colored eyes was well built, but his current attire threw that into sharp relief, making it impossible to ignore.
"Like the hat," the older man spoke finally with a sharp curve of his lip that could have been a smirk but felt a little more predatory. Hayner choked on his laughter, because there was no way Seifer had intended that as anything but an icebreaker, even if he meant it.
"Let's get going. Remember, don't say a word unless I signal that it's okay to talk. I'll speak for you most of the night."
"Just make sure I don't say anything stupid," he returned, humor in his voice. The younger man knew he was being uncharacteristically nice to try to calm him down after his last outburst, maybe as some sort of fucked up apology. He wasn't sure he liked it, but then he wasn't sure he hated it either. It wasn't patronizing, at the very least.
"I'll try my best, but you have to admit, it's kind of hard to sell you as the genius you think you are."
"I'm sure you can manage."
"You are such an ass."
"And you are such a bitch about it. It's almost endearing."
"I am going to kill Tseng for assigning you to this."
"I'm pretty sure he's actually immortal, so good luck with that. If you succeeded Rufus would hire Cloud to kill you. And I'd be out of a job."
Hayner lit a cigarette, wondering why their banter could be so easy yet so stilted, like they every word they said was meant to be something else, but they couldn't say it. It niggled at the back of his mind, but he couldn't pin it down.
"Is there anything about the Don you even remotely like or approve of? Just out of curiosity, is he one of those people who kill people for fun but then go home and cuddle with their twenty cats?"
"You have been watching way too many movies. And, no, he doesn't have any pets. I guess the only decent thing he ever did in his life was marry my mother. He fucked even that up though."
They were in the car now, the darkness outside enhanced by the tinted windows so the city lights looked like giant, dim stars against a sea of black. Beauty as fake as the world they lit, as fake as him.
Seifer quietly sat next to his companion while they rode to their destination, measuring his increasingly depressed mood by how low his eyelashes drooped over his large eyes. He was slowly, methodically shutting himself down. It was downright creepy how practiced he was at it, not something he'd expect from someone so young outside of heavy abuse cases. He didn't bother speaking to try and pull him out of it, his defense mechanisms were the only things keeping his psyche together, the detective wouldn't deny him whatever he needed to survive.
Though somehow watching the process made him…sad. It was like watching a plane crash in slow motion and realizing all those people had families. Hayner wasn't just means to an end, he was a person who'd had everything taken from him since he could remember. All the material wealth in the world couldn't change that he had no choices in his life, none that he could make to help himself. So he helped others, everyone he could reach.
Reno slipped into Seifer's office while the younger man was finishing his paperwork before moving on to read Hayner's file, something heavy in his green-blue eyes.
"What the fuck do you want? I actually have work to do, if you hadn't noticed," the blond spat with a single glance upward before going back to filling out the form below him.
"I used to be involved with the mob, yo. I was an addict, was the easiest way to get my fix, just join up with the people who supplied me."
Now he was paying attention, cold eyes drifting up to look the redhead in the face. This was going somewhere, and he had a sinking feeling it was dealing with the whole 'Hayner saved all our asses' bullshit the group had been spouting.
"I got in too deep, obviously. I nearly killed Axel one night while I was coming off of cocaine and about to shoot up again. Thought he was going to stop me, shot him in the chest. Fucking shot my own goddamn fifteen year-old little brother. Missed his heart by four inches."
Why had Seifer known absolute nothing about this beforehand? You'd think the whole 'hey buddy, I'm an ex-addict and I almost killed my brother while high' conversation would have come along sooner if it was going to come at all.
"Hayner was ten or something, swear on my grave one day on the job he just walked right up to me while I was about to take a hit and punched me in the face, told me to go back home and never come back. Said I had no place in the family any more, and if I showed up on their doorstep again they'd shoot me. He was kind of a grown up kid, yo."
"So, what, he basically threw you out on the street?"
"Right on my ass. Gave me a letter that supposedly had my earnings for the people I'd taken out that week in it, actually had the name of a guy who ran a rehab center. Put me through the fucking ringer, and I thought I was gonna die. But I put my baby brother in a hospital, yo, I figured I deserved it. Tseng snatched me up as soon as I came out clean. Been working my ass off to make up for all the terrible shit I've done in my life ever since. That Hayner kid saved my life. If he hadn't thrown me out, I'd either be filling my blood full of drugs or dead by now."
Reno gave him a look before turning and waltzing right back out the door in his typical fashion. Seifer looked down at the pen in his hand, then at the file on Hayner that was peeking out on the edge of his desk. A photo of him when he was eight was paper clipped to the manilla folder, completely nondescript, but it was easily the most important thing on his desk. More than the seizure forms he was filling out, more than the firaga materia that he raised and kept for himself during the days of his youth that he used as a paperweight now, more than his badge.
Hayner did that for Reno nine years ago though. He got older, and probably gave up on the hero act. Right? He wasn't a good person, he couldn't be. Of course, that didn't explain why the others loved him so damn much, but that wasn't his problem. Resisting the urge to just scribble nonsense on the form in frustration, he went back to work.
"Hey, Seifer, you still awake? We're here, and at some point we have to go inside."
Hayner's gloved hands waved in front of his eyes for a second after he spoke, impatience riddled with anxiety coloring his voice and movements. The detective simply nodded, not bothering to pretend he hadn't completely zoned out. He got lost in his own head too easily sometimes.
"Are you ready?" Seifer asked simply, hand already on the door handle.
"I'm never going to be ready, so we may as well just go. Don't want to keep the Don waiting."
They got out of the car and entered the restaurant quietly, the younger man tenser than the other had ever seen him. The black fedora was pulled low over his head, shadowing his eyes, but even with that he could still see the cold fear gripping him. Seifer kept his expression carefully neutral, managing to not attempt to kill the Don with his eyes when he sat down at the table next to Hayner.
"When you said you were bringing a guest, I didn't think you meant a cop," the Don began with a glare from behind his darkly tinted glasses.
"He's dirty anyway. The station's moving in on me for some reason, from his information. Saw someone tailing me today, so maybe he's right. Said he'd keep the pigs off my back so long as I paid him more than he currently makes to just stand around and look tough. So why the fuck not."
Hayner immediately lit a cigarette after finishing speaking; surprisingly his hands weren't even shaking. The Don appeared to consider the information, then leaned back slightly in his seat as if satisfied.
"So, Cop, why is the force suddenly so interested in him?" Corneo's lip curled as he spat what was apparently his new name for Seifer.
"Want to try and take him in for questioning on your operation here. I don't see how it's really going to help, but they are cops after all."
Corneo laughed then, cruel and mirthless, "The best and brightest, yet for over a decade they haven't been able to catch me."
"It is impressive what the law can't do. Like give me a decent paycheck," Seifer joked, mentally grinding his teeth. The Don laughed again, though, so it was working.
"Well so long as you can do your job well enough, I guess the boy here can take care of that for you."
He was glad he kept his hands under the table, they were twitching with the need to wring the fucking life from his man. Who the hell referred to their only son as 'the boy'? The waiter crept up hesitantly to take their order, and Hayner's gloved hand suddenly settling on his left thigh told him quite concisely that he was not to speak. The younger man said something in clipped Italian, fitting for the place but not necessarily for the person speaking, since the mob family was definitely not Italian. The waiter blinked at first, then a knowing smile cracked on his face as he responded in the same language. Corneo seemed genuinely put out by being left out of the conversation.
"I'll have that spaghetti of yours, you know the way I like it. Wine too, very dry."
The hand remained settled on his thigh, though whether he was just not supposed to say anything for now or Hayner had somehow forgotten was up for debate. It wasn't an awkward touch though, at the very least. It was grounding, the only remotely familiar thing in the setting was the man next to him, the contact reminded him he wasn't the only one inwardly cringing every time he had to speak.
"So, boy, how are things with those broads? You gonna get either one of them pregnant any time soon?"
The hand twitched tellingly before stilling again.
"Not right now, no. Not quite ready to hand over the name."
"You always were a selfish little brat," Corneo laughed, though what he found funny was a mystery to the sane members of his audience.
Minutes passed before the Don started complaining about the wine not being there. A quick look around pointed out that there was no one else around. Hayner seemed to notice this at the same time, dark eyes searching then the hand on his thigh squeezing then pulling away. Two gunshots echoed and the guards collapsed outside as two men clad entirely in black slid into the shop. More gunshots fired, a few whizzed past him as he reflexively tackled Hayner to the floor, attempting to shield him bodily. The lack of a weapon literally ached, but as soon as it started the barrage stopped and the men disappeared into the night.
Movement below him brought him back from his adrenaline rush enough to realize he still had his charge pinned below him, eyes like washed out chocolate staring straight into his questioningly, surprised. Whether he was surprised that Seifer specifically protected him, or that anyone would was anyone's guess, but it was still depressing either way. He rolled off and helped the younger man back to his feet, surveying the carnage in the restaurant.
The waiter and the owner peeked out from the kitchen, the former shouting something to Hayner in Italian. The younger blond answered in the same with a tiny smile, waving them off. Corneo looked like he was about to explode from anger, bursting into angry words that blended together and that the detective honestly didn't care about. He was a lot more interested in a small tear in the side of Hayner's suit coat, frayed ends of white shirt beneath showing. It could have been ripped sometime when they hit the floor, but the material really should have been stronger.
"Don, Seifer and I are going to try and track those guys down, at least see if we can identify who they're affiliated with," the sandy-haired man said by way of explanation before grabbing the detective's wrist and bolting out the door. They ran a few blocks and ducked into an alley, the other bent over, hands on his knees, laughing his ass off.
"You didn't give that waiter our order, did you?"
"Nope, told him to hide. I had a bad feeling something like this would happen. The look on the Don's face though…" He trailed off into laughter, though the rest of his words rang with an air of half-truths, like he was testing a lie on his tongue to see if it sounded true outside of his mind.
"Did you get hit? Your suit is ripped."
He looked down, then pulled the coat to the side until he found the tear.
"Guess it got caught on something when you pushed me over. Probably the table, glass and all. Uh, thanks for that, by the way."
He thought 'it's just my job, don't worry about it', but what came out was, "No problem, just trying to keep you safe."
Stupid goddamn mouth not listening to what he wanted it to say. The words were embarrassing enough that he kind of wanted to just kick himself, but judging by the tiny hopeful look Hayner gave him they were the right ones. And maybe he did care about the kid, just a little bit. He didn't have anyone else in reach to take care of him, so obviously the job fell to Seifer.
"Let's get back to the car and go back to the hotel. I'm tired. Hey, look at it this way, at least we didn't have to put up with the Don for any longer, right?"
He couldn't help but break a smile at that, because he was right. Getting shot at was definitely preferable to another minute with that scumbag. They headed back to the street and found the car waiting for them. They slid in, Hayner on the far side, sitting sideways but facing away this time. One hand rested heavily over the rip in his suit, it almost looked like he was applying pressure. Too easy to read, he was distracted by it enough to slip up.
The detective waited a few minutes for the other to be lulled by the quiet before unbuckling his seatbelt, moving over and pinning the younger blond to the door with one hand.
"What the-" The rest of the sentence ended in a pained hiss as Seifer applied pressure to his right side where the tear was. It was already sticky with blood.
"So, were you planning on just letting yourself bleed once we got back, or are you really capable of giving yourself stitches and bandaging yourself up?"
"Fuck. You." The brown-eyed man bit out harshly through gritted teeth, pushing the offending hand away.
"Let's get one thing straight, can we? I'm here to protect you. I'm doing my damndest to keep you breathing, the least you can do is tell me when you're injured. I don't care if you so much as trip and bruise your knee, I want to know about it immediately. Got it? I know you hate asking anyone for help, but I'm right here and I've honestly got nothing better to do. Do you understand?"
"Fine, I get it. Just get off me, okay? We'll take care of it when we get back to the hotel."
"You never use the word home, you live there, don't you? Why not call it home?"
"I don't have a home. That's just where I stay, it's not a home to me."
"You have a home with Roxas, Pence, and Olette. Home isn't always just a place."
"What the fuck do you know, anyway," the younger spat, eyes dark with confused anger.
"I didn't have a place to call home when I was growing up an orphan. But I found a home with Raijin and Fuujin. With the force and with the Turks. I have a home, and you do too. You just don't want to accept it for what it is."
A look of guilt settled on Hayner's face, maybe for forgetting that Seifer didn't grow up like a normal kid, maybe for ignoring what he had, maybe for this whole damn situation. He sighed and deflated, leaning back against the door where he was pushed as the detective moved back to his side of the car. Tired and hurt and pale, he looked as young and vulnerable as he was.
"Am I a burden, Seifer?"
"You'll never be a burden to anyone who matters, Hayner. Don't let anyone tell you differently."
"Weren't you supposed to hate me? You're being too nice. You don't have to."
"I don't like to do what I'm supposed to. I hate anyone related to the name Corneo. You? You're just Hayner."
The other's smile spread wide and true on his face for the first time since they'd met. Bleeding out in a car going to a place he couldn't call home with a stranger who might hate him, but he looked happy. The ride ended far too soon and the mask fell back into place. He stumbled shortly after they got into the lobby, prompting the larger man to just scoop him up and carry him to the elevator. Despite his rather raucous protests, they made it all the way to the suite without incident.
"Please tell me you have a first aid kit?"
"Bathroom, my side. Well, and yours, but it just makes more sense to use mine. Should be everything you need in it, now would you kindly put me the fuck down?"
Seifer ignored him and carried him through to his bedroom, then to the bathroom, dumping him on the rug without warning. He squeaked indignantly when he landed, before pulling himself up to sit on the toilet, pointing to the kit hanging on the wall next to the medicine cabinet over the sink before starting to pull off his coat and shirt. He flung his hat into the tub carelessly before yanking his shirt off over his head, biting his lip as it stuck to and pulled the wound.
Considering the sheer number of bullets that had ripped through the air around them, it wasn't really that bad. Just a deep graze along his side, at most a quarter of an inch deep. It hurt like hell, but it wasn't going to kill him. Wetting down a washcloth he handed it to the injured man to clean the gash while the detective went about getting what he needed to patch it up.
Thirty minutes, a lot of swearing, and sixteen stitches later he was done, just putting a little gauze over the area and taping it down. Otherwise every brush of anything on it would irritate the wound and make it heal slower.
"There. Pretty sure you won't die tonight."
"Think I'd rather I had really," Hayner mumbled ungratefully, embarrassed that he'd needed help from someone else. At the older man's dark look he backpedaled, simply thanking him for his assistance and telling him to get the hell to his own bed. With a smirk the other acquiesced, telling him not to do anything to further injure himself before turning and leaving, heading to his own end of the suite. He stripped his suit off and just left it lying on the floor because he was just too damn tired to care right now.
Tucking one of his guns under his pillow, he crawled into bed and just mulled over the day for half an hour before succumbing to sleep.
He waited a couple hours after Seifer turned in, then got up, changed into his street clothes, and crept out of the suite. Running on heavy painkillers and he felt kind of numb, but he knew he could take care of himself. His .9mm sat comfortably against his lower back, the weight calming in a way it really had no right to be. He went down the stairs normally, not going to risk ripping himself open by jumping down them. Besides, he had all the time in the world.
It was a little past ten at night and chilly. His hoodie kept him warm enough though and he got moving out into the alleys he knew better than the streets themselves. He wondered idly just how pissed Seifer would be if he woke up to find the man he was supposed to protect had skipped out on him. This was a bad idea, of course, but that's the only kind of ideas he had lately. He lit a cigarette and took a drag, the ember glowing orange in the dark.
He didn't really have a destination, so he just kept walking, taking turns at random. Getting lost wasn't a possibility, he'd walked these areas almost every night for years. His mind left idle, he thought of Seifer. The detective didn't hate him anymore, and who the hell gave up a grudge he'd held for most of his life in the space of a few hours? Maybe he really got it after all.
"I don't like to do what I'm supposed to do. I hate anyone related to the name Corneo. You? You're just Hayner."
The words echoed in his head and still managed to coax a smile from his face. Maybe there was hope for the detective yet, if he understood that so quickly. But then it hardly mattered, after the whole stupid thing was over they'd never see each other again. He sighed and kept walking.
An hour later he was circling back to head towards the hotel again when he heard someone screaming. Quickly judging the direction of the sound he took off toward it till he found the source. A man holding a woman at knifepoint, her clothes ripped and sobs tearing through her body.
"Hey buddy, don't think she likes you like that," he said, right before he fired three shots into the man's body. One in the soft spot behind his knee, one into the arm holding the knife, and one right at his neck. With a roar of pain he collapsed, his body in shock from the blow to his neck and his knee unable to support his weight. Hayner descended on him, violently smashing the butt of his gun into the man's temple until he was still. Still breathing, but definitely unconscious.
"Are you okay ma'am?" He asked as he got back to his feet, tucking the gun back into his waistband. Arms went around him and held him close as she thanked him through sobs of relief. He felt a blush creep into his cheeks, he wasn't really used to being touched like this, especially not by women.
"Is that a friend of yours over there? He looks pretty angry," she whispered into his ear with a hint of fear, and his heart stopped, then climbed right into his throat. It could be anyone though, right? He turned his head to look in the direction she was, only to set eyes on, of course, none other than Seifer. Hair ruffled and hands shoved into his pockets, but there was definitely a cold rage stirring in his eyes.
"You could say that. He's not a threat to you, at any rate," her savior answered, backing away from her to face the seething detective.
"You make the call yet?"
"Two minutes ago, should hear their sirens pretty soon. She okay?" The blue-eyed man nodded to the woman, who bobbed her head up and down enthusiastically. Hayner removed his lighter and cigarettes from his hoodie pocket, unzipped it, and helped her put it on. Her shirt was ripped half open and she was probably getting chilly, it wasn't like he didn't have five other similar ones.
They stood in pregnant silence until the sirens of a patrol car and an ambulance finally shattered it, two officers and a paramedic emerging from an adjacent alley that led to the street. Hayner lit a cigarette and answered their questions with disinterest, though the grateful look never left the woman's face as she was led away by the paramedic. Another came by with a stretcher for the man he'd beat into unconsciousness. Eventually Seifer told the officers to kindly fuck off, flashing his badge and giving them a look that could strip paint off a wall. They left a little more quickly than they had to.
Minutes passed and the sound of car engines faded completely, leaving just the two of them. The blond detective moved faster than he expected and he suddenly found himself slammed against a wall a little more roughly than he thought was necessary, the older man's hand fisted in his shirt.
"How did you find me?" Not really the best thing he could have said, but who can honestly say they've managed to be intelligent when staring straight into the face of an absolutely furious Seifer Almasy?
"Tseng put a tracking device in your phone a while back, it's currently set to send a signal to me if you move out of a one hundred foot radius from my phone," the other answered, fury coloring his voice.
The cell phone in his back pocket suddenly seemed a lot more dangerous than it had a few minutes ago and he silently cursed Tseng for his forethought.
"Care to tell me why you even thought of going out alone at night literally hours after you had to be stitched back together? You could have been killed Hayner. You may think you're expendable, but you're not. Never, ever step foot out of the suite without me. If you want to go for a walk or whatever the fuck it was you were doing just wake me up. Is that really so hard?"
"I've been doing this long before you came along, Seifer. You have no right to tell me I can't just because I'm suddenly important to your fucking agenda. Let. Me. Go," the slighter man snarled, hating that he was physically weaker than the other. He loathed being vulnerable like this, it only reminded him his life was subject to being changed by the brute force of others.
"Fuck you, Hayner. I'm not saying you can't leave, just don't do it alone. I don't care if you've done this a thousand times before and been fine, one time is all it takes for you to wind up dead. If I'm such bad company we don't have to talk, you don't even have to see me. I'll follow you at a distance if that's what you really want, just don't leave without me."
He sounded genuinely worried, which was more than a little surprising. Now that his anger had faded a bit into frustration it was starting to show through that he had been scared something was going to happen to his companion. He was pretty much bending over backward for Hayner even though he had no reason to. Maybe he had some complex about needing to protect people, but it was…nice for those feelings to be directed his way.
"You're not bad company, I'm just not used to people hanging around. If you promise not to try and hold me back from helping people I come across, you can tag along when I take walks. If you must."
"Good. But if I find out that you left without your cell to alert me, there's going to be hell to pay. I am not a very forgiving person."
"You gonna get off me any time soon?" He asked, hyper aware of the approximately seven inches between their faces and the way their knees brushed, not to mention the hand pressing him against the bricks of the building behind him.
"Nah, I kind of like you like this. Pinned. You get so damn flustered."
Was he flirting? Seriously, what the hell else was Hayner supposed to get from that? Heat spread across his cheeks and he glared as he tried to struggle out of the older man's grasp. And to make it worse, the scarred detective leaned forward till his mouth was right next to his captive's ear.
"I might be a little rough with you, but if I ever make you truly uncomfortable, or if I'm hurting you, promise me you'll let me know."
"Promise. This-this is okay. Maybe a little more physical than I'm used to, but you're not hurting me."
Apparently satisfied with his answer, the larger man leaned back and released his shirt before stepping away completely. He was harder to read than the younger blond expected, as soon as he thought maybe he had the detective figured out, he did something like that.
"You're not used to people touching you at all, are you? Even a woman hugging you makes you uncomfortable."
"No one ever gets that close to me. Even when I could still hang out with the others they weren't really physically affectionate. Well, Roxas is, but still. Namine and Kairi, the twins I told you about, they touch me occasionally, but it's usually just a hand on my arm or something. You seem like you express yourself physically in most situations though, so I guess I should get used to it, right? "
"Actions speak louder than words. I guess I just grew up having to express myself with my fists."
"And getting close enough to someone to touch them without hurting them is your way of showing trust."
Shock registered on his face and he opened his mouth a couple of times before managing to form words with it. Hayner had to try really hard not to look smug.
"How'd you figure that out?"
"It was either that or you were just really handsy. I mean think about it, we've only known each other for less than half a day and you've touched me how many times? It doesn't bother me much, but it was something I noticed. If you start crossing lines I'll tell you, so don't worry too much about it."
"Your side hurt? You were pretty rough with that guy, did you jar your stitches?"
"A little, but I don't think anything is really out of place."
"You weren't firing normal bullets either. You hit him all three times but he wasn't bleeding at all."
"Rubber bullets. My nine always has rubber bullets in it. I sort of run into this sort of thing a lot."
"And you fired it with your left hand. Your forty-five corresponds to your right side. Your gloved right hand is the one that deals with work for the mafia, your left hand is for helping people."
Now it was Hayner's turn to be shocked, "I thought it would take you at least a week to figure that out."
"How much is a lot, anyway? You just rescue women being accosted every night?"
"Not every night. Maybe once a week or so."
Seifer just laughed and shook his head, shoving his hands back in his pockets, waiting. After a moment's hesitation, Hayner started walking along the alley again, lighting a cigarette and gesturing that the other should follow.
"You don't have to keep your distance, and if you want we could talk. I didn't leave alone tonight to get away from you, I just needed to clear my head and didn't want to wake you up. I know we probably don't have the same sleep schedule so-"
"I don't care. I work all shifts, it's easy enough for me to acclimate to a different schedule. You sleep till the afternoon, right? We've got hours to kill, then, by your time."
"You don't have to switch your whole life around for me, you know."
"Yeah, actually I do. And hell, maybe I want to. There are a lot of people out there who owe you their lives, and even if I don't completely get why you do what you do, I'll do my best to help you do it."
"I do it because I might as well do something decent with my life. It won't make up for everything I've done, but it's better than doing nothing."
"Killing people doesn't necessarily make you a bad person. I've ended several lives myself, and though I'm not really proud of it, I don't think it makes me evil."
"But it's your job to kill people if they pose a threat-"
"I've never killed anyone while on duty. Either as a cop or a detective."
Ice-colored eyes watched him levelly, dead serious. He wasn't sure how to reply, it was too rude to ask after when he'd actually killed people beyond the two Hayner already knew about. He guessed it had to do with Seifer's previous line of work, but still, even if he was a murderer, of the two of them the older man was far less twisted.
"I killed three people in revenge once. Called them to a safe house, lined them up, and shot them one after the other. I'm pretty sure that makes me a horrible person, Seifer."
"What'd they do?"
"Killed someone important to me, was worried they'd come after me next if I didn't take care of them."
"It's kill or be killed, I don't think you're a bad guy just because you protected yourself, or took revenge for the death of a loved one. I did the same thing, if you recall."
"It's not the same."
"Yeah, Hayner, it is exactly the same. This city twists and breaks everything it touches, and if we're bad people for not just rolling over and letting it kill us, so be it. You've done some pretty bad shit in your life, so have I. We both try to make amends as best we can. I think you're a good person, and I have every reason to hate you, so my opinion should mean something."
He sighed, wondering if Seifer would have the same opinion after he learned all the things his companion had done, learned that Hayner was essentially a monster in disguise. Yeah, he did help people, but it would never be enough. The backs of his eyes prickled hot, and fuck it he was not crying here. He blinked rapidly and suddenly turned back the way they'd came, tired of wandering through the maze of Twilight Town.
"Let's just go back, alright? I'm tired."
"Sure, whatever you want to do."
It was getting colder as the buildings closed and heat stopped seeping through them, vapor from his breath was ghosting out of his mouth more clearly now, and he was starting to feel cold without his hoodie. Just before he started shivering the scarred man beside him pulled off his coat and put it around Hayner's slight shoulders.
"You'll get cold," he said dumbly, pulling the coat on regardless.
"We'll be back in half an hour, and you've been cooling down for an hour, whereas I've been warm up until now. It's fine, just accept it for what it is."
"Well, thanks," the brown-eyed man returned awkwardly.
"How's your wound doing? Painkillers wearing off yet?"
"Yeah, you noticed?"
"You're limping a bit; want me to carry you the rest of the way?"
"I would rather die."
A smirk, "Suit yourself. If you start to fall behind though, I'm going to whether you like it or not."
Fifteen minutes later the younger man was starting to fade, the pain burning in his side and overall fatigue slowly forcing his façade to crumble. The detective noticed it too, eyes softening slightly.
"You could either let me piggyback you the rest of the way, or I'll just throw you over my shoulder. Your choice."
Not like he had much of an option, and if he were to be honest with himself, he wasn't going to make it the rest of the distance under his own power. Wrapping his arms around the older man's neck he jumped onto his back, the other catching and trapping his legs easily. He was pretty sure no one had carried him even once, yet in the space of a few hours Seifer had done it twice.
The scarred man was radiating heat despite not having anything but a t-shirt on, and it felt natural to just rest his chin on the other's shoulder as they moved. He wondered how Seifer knew which way to take, but then he'd already proven himself a lot smarter than he let on. Head firmly nestled between the blue-eyed man's shoulder and neck, Hayner drifted off to sleep just a few minutes before the hotel came into view.
Seifer fumbled for the key card while trying to balance his charge on his back. The hotel staff gave him an odd look when he came in but eventually one of the receptionists stepped over into the elevator to give him a hand. They rode the elevator in silence, the woman smart enough not to ask questions, thank the gods. She followed him up the final flight of stairs and helped him open the door, stepping back and smiling before retreating back the way she came.
He slipped into the door, kicking it closed behind him and making a mental note to activate the locks once he had his hands free. Hayner had clearly fallen asleep, breathing deep and slow. At least he didn't weigh much for his size. He was about the same height as the detective himself, but weighed probably seventy pounds less due to the difference in their builds and muscle tone.
The older man carried him into the sandy-blond's bedroom, dumping him onto the bed, wondering what he should do next. Logically he'd take off the other's shoes and empty his pockets, but the latter seemed a little more intimate than he should get with another person while they were sleeping. Hayner couldn't exactly tell him if he was crossing boundaries. Eventually he settled on just removing the sleeping man's gun, phone and shoes, because those would get uncomfortable soon. He set the safety on the gun and placed both it and the phone on the bedside nightstand.
He wondered if it was odd to let someone you barely knew sleep in your coat, but he didn't think on it too long, setting the locks before walking back to his own bedroom. Tonight had definitely been eventful and more than a little revealing of the true character of his companion. His night excursion could have been an act, or even staged, but Vaan had mentioned something about taking a walk when they'd talked earlier in the day. It was likely that this sort of thing was exactly what he'd been referring to.
Seifer wasn't ready to completely trust Hayner though. He may be a good person under all the walls he put up, but there was still something off about him. Almost like the brown-eyed man was trying to drop hints for the detective to pick up, to warn him about what was going to happen, that the older man should stay on his toes. Or it could just be the paranoia of dealing with strangers in an unusual situation getting to him. Either way, he'd do his best to protect his charge while seeking out the truth of the situation. He had a feeling if he could puzzle out Hayner, he'd find the answers he was looking for. Easier said than done, if their first day together was any indication.
As you may have guessed by now, this is a fairly lengthy multichapter fic. I've been working on it for close to a year now and as such have it maybe half done. Every 1-2 weeks I'll upload another chapter. 5 chapters are done up to this point, but I rather like the feedback I get when it's chapter-by-chapter rather than a summary of several. I work 50 hours a week, so I may not be entirely punctual, and after the chapters that are already done go up it may take much longer to get the next few just because I have such limited time. Thank you for reading, hope you'll stick around for the rest.