Because anyone who originally followed this probably doesn't care anymore, I'm not going to waste time explaining what caused such a long delay in posting this. Sorry, for what little it's worth.
Chapter Three: Carry the Fire, Bury the Flame
Do you know what the best thing in the world is?
It's a dumb question, because the answer hinges solely on conjecture and people tend to pick something that's right on top of their mind at the moment rather than thinking on it. I found it was a good way to get to know somebody, regardless. What they value leads into who they are, what kind of things they like. How they might act. Or, more usually, what they're going through at the moment. If something is troubling you, then your answer would probably be something that might help alleviate whatever that was. Puzzles and threads in a web, leading from point to point and mapping out a complete picture from a lot of little ones. And all those details you learn to surmise after years of studying people and learning how they tick, how to tell what kind of person they might be according to typically tiny tells – mind the alliteration, please. I'm rambling, so I'll try to get back on point: For example, if on any average day someone asked me this, and assuming I felt like answering, one of the top choices I'd pluck from my head would probably be alcohol. Because it can provide a mask for your troubles, and I'd like to think it helped keep any reoccurring nightmares away when I sleep.
Here's another example, and I think it's actually a bit more pertinent: Right then, I would have told you that the most important thing in the world was an umbrella, because I didn't have one. I don't remember exactly how long I'd been walking for, what with how we usually perceive time. It just blurred by, more so probably because I was so lost amidst my own thoughts. The rain came without warning, dark clouds rolling in and thunder rolling across the sky. Oddly enough, the first thing that crossed my mind was: Well, there goes my hair. In only seconds it was soaked, lost its shape and had become plastered to my face. Cursing my bad luck, I ducked into a pub. Out of a bad situation and into a good one, I suppose. Would have gone back to the Celsius normally, but I decided against letting my clothes get sopping wet, too. Leather and water are not a good mix, even if the contact's brief.
After shaking some of the excess water out of my hair, I took a look around. Judged my surroundings. Not a lot of people yet, but with the storm as bad as it was that could change rapidly. I moved further in, deciding that I could at least beat the potential crowd. A good way to tip somebody off that you're analyzing them is to let your eyes linger for too long. Anyone with common sense or training could tell when they were being watched. So that's precisely what I didn't do. Just a couple of quick preliminary sweeps. No one rubbed me the wrong way, so I carried on to the bar dominating the back of the place. Took my seat, tossed a few coins onto the counter and ordered a glass of whiskey.
While I was waiting I rolled my neck around, trying to loosen the muscles. My hair was already starting to get on my nerves, clinging desperately to my forehead and cheeks. On a whim, I pulled my gloves off and threw them down on the counter. I wasn't sure if the leather would shrink or not, but I'd have hated to get my arms stuck in my own fucking clothes. By the time I'd finally gotten my drink, I'd started tending to the thick, tangled ropes of silver grabbing at my skin. Didn't want any of it in my eyes, so I tucked what of it I could behind my ears, the rest I just had to slick back. Didn't know how disheveled I looked, but I was sure it wasn't exactly helping my image all that much. How high maintenance did that sound?
Started to wonder what Yuna and Rikku were doing as I lifted my drink. Well, they probably went back to the airship well before the storm started. What else would they have done? Part of why we ended up at that place was because there hadn't been anything for us to do. Only partly. The real reason had been much bigger. I found I could look back at it now with a bit of ill humor. The liquor felt good going down, stirring a bit of warmth inside. I closed my eyes, focused on my other senses. Footsteps, chatter, clinks and clatters of glass and wood. Chairs scraping the floor. I hoped things would just go back to normal after today; after what I'd said. The way life worked, my ability to reach any certainty on probable events wasn't a strong suit. What good was there in trying when you were rarely right?
I hadn't been able to get a reading on her after apologizing. The way she stared uneasily at the floor, nervous or uncomfortable or maybe both under my scrutiny. Knowing Rikku – and, I did – she would either make a choice immediately or take a while to make up her mind. I might go back to the ship to find that she'd forgiven me or was still as wrapped up in her decision making as I was in my own mixed up introspections. Brought a smile to my lips, that's for sure. Or maybe it was the whiskey. Couldn't be bothered to tell. Either way something was working, so why argue? Better to just let it happen. If I started ruminating on it I'd just work myself right out of my amiable mood. I'd walked that road before. If there was anyone I knew, it was me. I'd spent the better part of eighteen years getting to know myself, and the way my mind worked was cyclical. I would usually look too deep into a lot of things, most inconsequential, especially if it bugged me. Maybe I'm obsessive-compulsive. Why did this bug me? I started to furrow my brow, drifting away from the heat of the alcohol.
No, see: I was doing it again. I had to stop! I shook my head, letting out a captive breath before taking another sip. With luck the drink would start doing a better job before I sabotaged myself again. Muttering under my breath about how I had problems, the words "fuck it" cropped up before I went ahead and knocked back the rest of the glass. I peered into it dejectedly for a moment, and then ordered another. Preferably drunk and safe than sober and sorry.
Someone sat down a seat away from mine. With so many still free, I had a feeling I was in for the long haul, here.
"Can't believe the weather got ugly so fast, huh?" He laughed, directing his comment to me. Sometimes I hate being right. At one point in my life things like this had made me take to musing that maybe the universe reacts in some small degree to your thoughts. Engineers a direct response to exactly what pushes your buttons, or some shit. Right now my metaphorical console was getting hammered with input. I resigned to focusing on my drink. "No clouds or anything all day, then suddenly this?" He gestured back at the window, shaking his head incredulously. I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for an answer that he was going to have to have to drag like a team of chocobos to get out of me.
When I wanted a lay, it's what I'd set out to do. A conscious decision made before the fact, I wasn't the biggest fan of spontaneity. Maybe now you can see why being around Rikku (and, to a smaller extent, Yuna) could get a little.. taxing. Second to that: I would approach someone. You could call it a test of mettle. They came on to me, I brushed them off every time. It would usually not endear them to me for starters, even though I admit that could be taken as hypocrisy. I won't lie, a playing factor is that I don't like my personal space getting invaded. I tended to look at it the same way I did a fight. I would be the one to lead it, I would be in control. That way the situation bent to my preferences, end of story. A lot of guys felt belittled when a woman was the one to approach them, anyway. A good way to weed the "boys from the men," if you will.
Okay, that might be a slightly unfair stereotype. Whatever.
"Looks like you've got a lot on your mind," he discerned, tone managing to be nonintrusive. Then he shattered it by tacking on, "Sometimes it can help relieve stress to vent, you know?" My eyes slid over to him like Rikku trying to walk on ice: slow and steady until they reached something to catch onto. Took another sip of my drink, and went back to staring into my glass. Maybe he would take the hint. "Ah, well." Nope. "I've been there, before. Just wanting to be left to my liquor and think. Hoping it'll make the stress go away."
Very astute, but I would have preferred that he went away. I could have outright told him this, but at the time I didn't feel like opening my mouth to do anything other than swallow more whiskey. I'll give him this, though: he was persistent. Unfortunately not in the way I can admire, because he was showing off his staying power by bothering me. If I was lucky, I thought, someone else would come in and he'd just go off and pester them for a while. I ordered a few more drinks, and he tried a few more times to get something out of me. "Persistent" quickly became an understatement, he was downright tenacious. Despite what he may have believed, somehow and by who knows what form of logic, it wasn't earning him even the most negligible sum of respect points.
I wound up with a momentary reprieve when the sphere came on to show Shelinda standing under an awning in Luca's city square. "For anyone who was looking forward to getting out on the town, it looks like the weather has other things on its mind, today." Oh, you don't say.
That was about all I caught, because I was quick to dig myself back down into the solace of people not trying to talk my ear off. I'd had a long enough day as it was, already. Attempts to strike up an accord – with inane substance, no less – were not helping. My eyes flicked back to the window, watching the heavy downpour and taking note of how dark it was. A part of me had hoped it would be a short shower, but that was looking busted. How long was I going to wait, then? I couldn't let myself get hammered, I didn't want to end up somehow reenacting that dre- Oh, boy. That was back. I assumed the alcohol had loosened up any mental barriers I'd set up around the fantasy- which, since apologizing, had seemed to feel a little stronger. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of that. Then again, would I have just gone the rest of my life without alcohol? Because that certainly wasn't an option.
Speaking of alcohol, the rest of my glass was gone. That left an empty feeling. I rubbed at my eyes, a groan catching in my throat as I set the glass back down and fought to resist the pervasive return of last night's fantasy. Inactivity coupled with an influx of something intoxicating creates a very dangerous measure of woolgathering; it was wrapping tight, thick and hot around my head. I felt like I needed to breathe, again; very warm, like my brain was a machina set to overheat from not being granted enough time to cool. Even more now that my thoughts were running unimpeded. So, I grabbed my gloves and left. I made sure to turn the opposite direction of the guy who'd tried to rope me into a conversation, hoping that would be his final sign that I wasn't in the mood.
"You are always in 'the mood.'"
I thanked my brain for that little bit of provocation, because now I wanted to hurt Brother once I got back to the Celsius. I tucked my gloves into a belt – because I have so very many to choose from, I decided giving one an extra job wouldn't cause all my clothes to just fall off. And normally my brain didn't decide it followed similar patterns to Rikku's, so I really must have been feeling the liquor by then. That, of course, gave rise to me wondering if Rikku did any heavy drinking or if she just had the mental patterns of an inebriate. As ridiculous as that train of thinking was, some part of my brain still answered it: seeing as how I didn't (often) smell alcohol on her, it meant she was simply off kilter. Glad that mystery had been solved, I wondered if I could perhaps concentrate on getting back home.
I accomplished reaching the Celsius without face-planting the street, but by that time I was sopping wet and chilled right down to the bone. Once I was underneath the body of the airship I dug out my communicator, which I'd managed to keep dry by sticking it inside the fold of my shawl. "Anybody home?"
Silence followed, and then: "Hey, yeah. Sorry to keep you waiting." It was Buddy. "We were starting to wonder when you'd get back. Here, let me get the door for you." The ramp lowered with a pneumatic hiss, and after entering I threw a wave at the camera hovering in the cargo bay. The ramp slid right back up into place. I could still hear the rain outside, roaring cacophonously against the hull.
"Thanks," was all he got. Buddy I liked. He didn't pry, nor was he unreasonably boisterous. If the dynamic between Brother and I could be summed up as him not annoying me, then with Buddy it was mutual respect for privacy.
"Don't let me keep you, though I gotta warn you: Rikku's probably going to want to know what party you were at that she didn't get an invitation to."
I cracked a smile, "Likely enough." And that was the end of the discussion. On my way up in the lift I took a moment to steel myself for whatever might lay ahead. Feelings and scenes filled the periphery of my acknowledged thoughts. I had to keep them back, I wanted to keep them back. The last thing that needed to happen was some sort of rerun of the morning's events. It was probably the alcohol, but I felt a slight pang as I recalled what I'd said, and how it had affected the thief. I crossed my arms, a reflexive posture I slipped into often. Someone had told me once, years back, that it was a self defense mechanism. A kind of attempt at sheltering oneself, as if folding your arms in front of you could be used as a shield – or at least a comforting facsimile of an embrace or something. I didn't much like the idea of carrying myself like I needed a hug. Yevon forbid Rikku ever hear it, because then I'd never stop having to. Regardless, I was just as likely to drop it as I was drinking.
The door opened and I kicked off the railing, setting smoothly into a comfortable stride down the hall. As soon as the second door made way I knew I was in trouble. The cousins were near the bar, and jumped the instant they caught sight of me. They were hiding something. Yuna looked excited, and the way she was standing told me there was something behind her back. Rikku was a little more practiced. She put on a happy face and leaned playfully against the brunette, getting a giggle out of the high summoner followed by a whispered admonishment.
"What is it?" I asked, marching into the cabin.
Rikku made a face, "That's not how surprises work! You're not supposed to know anything's up!"
"You're whining." I turned to Yuna and repeated my query, "What is it?"
Yuna shushed her piqued cousin and composed herself, "We decided to get you a present."
"No, that's not what happened, Yunie!" Rikku mewled, pawing at the gunner's arm.
"Why don't you tell it, then!" She replied.
Rikku nodded and turned to me, "After what you told me, I said I wanted to get you something in return. I.. I really appreciated what you did, Paine. I know it couldn't have been easy." She bit her lip for a second, digging her heel into the floor as she contemplated how to approach this further. "You're forgiven." I felt a swell at this, and had to actually struggle not to smile. I blamed it on the whiskey. I was doing that a lot, now. "Thank you so much, and.. in return," she let the words hang, muttering for Yuna to show me. The ex-summoner complied, stepping aside and picking up a yellow and blue vase filled with flowers of all different colors. "Okay, the flowers were my idea. Yunie got the vase, because.. well, you need something to put the flowers in."
I can't say I didn't appreciate the gesture, but now I was in an awkward position. I don't respond well to gifts or compliments, similar to how I reacted when Yuna hugged me earlier. I felt on the spot and didn't know what do to. For some reason "thanks" just never felt like the right thing to say, and it only served to make me uncomfortable. I approached them slowly, examining the diverse arrangement in silence.
"Ya don't gotta say anything," Rikku piped up, drawing my attention. She briefly appeared surprised I looked at her. "Y'know, just..." She gestured at the gift and shrugged, "Thanks, that's all." I reached up and traced a fingertip along the edge of a yellow petal, marveling at how soft it felt. Almost like velvet. I managed not to frown as something occurred to me: They had been talking about it, hadn't they? After I left, they probably took to discussing what had transpired. For a short time that irked me, like it took away from what that moment had been. It was personal to me, deeply so. For Rikku, too.. so why did she go and start gabbing about it with Yuna?! Irritation turned to a subtle burn in my throat, but I swallowed it down and calmed the flame. Then a deep breath. No, it made sense, I told myself. They were both understandably baffled. Rikku especially. I had no right to get angry with them about that. No right at all. "Why are your gloves in your belt?"
Moment was over. "The rain," I answered.
Yuna bit back a laugh, "Maybe you should go shower. I'll put these by your bed. If you don't mind, I mean?" I answered her question with an approving shake of my head, then made for the stairs.
"You seem a little off," the Al Bhed surveyed, tagging along behind me. I didn't answer. "Kinda curious to know where you went. What you were up to while Yunie and I have been waiting." She hopped in front of me, stopping me long enough to lean in for a closer look. I backed away apprehensively, furrowing my brow. My reaction was slightly clumsy, and that was all the girl needed. She got a funny look in her eye. "You're drunk!" She exclaimed, pointing at me with her arm outstretched. Ah, shit.
"I don't see how-" I started, intending to defend myself before she cut me off.
"Jeez, I didn't know it ate you up that bad, Doctor P." She slunk a bit closer. When she was about a half a foot away she grinned, turned and started elbowing me incessantly in the stomach, "That. Is. So. Cute!"
"I'm leaving." I barged by, quickly proceeding up the stairs and along the balcony.
"Painey really cares! That's adorable!" Rikku went on unperturbed. She more than kept up. In fact, she was dancing literal circles around me while beaming. "You felt so bad for what you said that you went and drowned your guilt in booze." I didn't like where this was headed. "After pouring your heart out to me like that – okay, so it's as close as you can get to that – you went right to pouring from the bottle to relieve the pain. Oh!" She stopped right in front of me, forcing me to halt again. I frowned down at her, wondering what devious little remark she was cooking up. The gears in her skull were spinning, I could see it in her eyes. She raised a finger to her lips, smile coming back as she declared, "That means I was right!" The assertion was roughly the last straw. I pushed her out of the way and kept on for the bathroom. She wouldn't leave well enough alone, either. Twice in one day. Joy. "You know you're really not helping your case by waltzing off all stoic and stoney faced, 'cause it means I'm really really right and you just don't wanna admit it, so that's why you're in such a hurry and why you look like you wanna hurt me- like: the 'put-me-through-a-wall' kind of hurt me."
I'll be honest, that had a nice ring to it at the time.
I stopped abruptly, my foggy brain taking a second to process everything she'd just said, "Rikku, I- What?" I shook my head, beginning to massage my temple. "That.. 'sentence'.. was too long."
She rolled her green eyes at me, "S'cause you're tipsy. See, bet I could tip you over right now if I tried." A firm prod at my shoulder, then she hopped back.
"It didn't work," I wearily informed.
She just shrugged, "I wasn't trying."
"I'm sure." I took the opportunity her distance provided to make another push. But damn if she wasn't fast. As if I didn't already know that, I just feel it needs stating.
"You don't have to find your solace in the bottom of a glass, it's not healthy." She slapped me on the arm, "You're a doctor, you should know that!"
"You're deluding yourself," I chided.
The girl was incorrigible, "Painey, my heart is open whenever you wanna talk." Now she was walking backwards just a step ahead of me. I planned on walking her right into the bathroom door. "Sometimes everyone needs to spill their guts – and I mean this metaphorically, not literally. Don't want you falling on your own sword or nothing. Keeping all that hurt inside's gonna rot you out until there's not much left but it." My scheme failed. By fair means or foul – I don't have even the faintest notion how – she knew exactly where the door was and when to stop short of smacking into it. In my current state I didn't register this in time, and so I ran right into her and pushed us both against the door. My hands reached out instinctively, planting themselves on the steel and veritably trapping her under me.
She blushed, "Uh, whoops."
For that short, short instance where I was pressed to her the entirety of that damned dream ripped through the already straining membrane between conscious and unconscious thought. In nanoseconds my brain had been flooded. Ghosting touches and a smokey kiss, breathing her scent and tasting her mouth. I swiftly bit my tongue and took a step back, concentrating on her now instead of her in the dream. I sucked in a breath and glowered down at her, "Move." The order came out strained, and I hoped she'd not think too much of it.
Rikku frowned, "Hey, I just noticed your hair."
"I. Said. Move!" This time a growl, my eyes burning down into hers.
"Sheesh," came an exasperated groan, but at least she moved out of the way. I watched her as she sauntered back across the balcony, only to turn around after a few feet. "I'd say you're a mean drunk, but you're kinda always like this."
I considered correcting her, mentioning that "kinda" and "always" are contrasting, but I didn't want to risk saying anything titanically stupid, again. After grabbing something more comfortable (and drier) to wear, I sealed myself in the bathroom and for a minute I just leaned against the sink, head lowered and tapping my heel against the floor as I fought with my own troublesome mind. It rarely betrayed me so royally, so I wasn't sure what was going on. Maybe it was just my drinking. I'd gotten back to something I could have called "normal" before emptying four or five glasses worth of liquor. Yeah, that had to have been it, I told myself. A case of bad decision making. I'd be fine once this shit got out of my system. I just had to bear with it that long and I'd be done. I wasn't an optimist, but I was sort of reaching, wasn't I? It made sense, though. If not, then what other logical possibility could there have been?
I deactivated my grid and turned the water on, the room filling with a thick, soothing cloud of steam in seconds. The water itself did miracles for my tension. As I stood underneath the spray, I thought back to what Rikku had said about why I'd sought out drink right after opening up to her, even just that little bit. She was getting whimsical with her theories at large, but that didn't change the sad part: In a way she'd been right. I ran into that bar because it was close and I wanted to escape the storm, but that didn't change the fact that some part of me had still been working out the day's little incident. Or it's resolution, at least. A little something to help me feel better had seemed fine at the time. Still did.
I closed my eyes, submerging my head directly under the stream and focusing intently on the heat spreading through my skull and down my back. The water trickling across my skin, washing away the cold I'd carried in with me. Yevon, it felt good. Cleared my head and purged my body, which was exactly what I needed. I didn't realize how long I'd been until a soft beep sounded. My eyes flashed up to a screen beside the shower head. What with us being on an airship, all onboard water had to be filtered for reuse and they didn't want to overrun the machina. A malfunction could be costly, or utterly disastrous. I still thought a fucking timer was a little barbaric, but I wasn't about to make a fuss, so I finished up and shut it off myself.
What grabbed my attention when I stepped back into the cabin proper was the vase sat atop my dresser. I laid my sphere grid down next to it, eyes jumping from flower to flower, taking in each unique form. All cluttered together and clashing terribly, but the jumble ultimately worked. A bit like Rikku, actually. I wasn't sure why that comparison came to mind, but it was true. She was such a mess, herself. Yet she managed to be something cohesive, even if not entirely uniform. That was when I realized I couldn't hear anybody else in the room with me. I looked around the balcony, then down at the lower floor, but it seemed they had left for another part of the ship. Maybe the bridge, to watch the rain. That was a good vantage point, after all.
Well, I thought, at least I was finally alone. Odd how that left an empty feeling, too. Normally I preferred being by myself. I stood there, leaning against the railing and staring pensively at the door with my hair hanging down around my face. Earlier in the day I'd noted how the unnatural silence had gotten to me just because it was a sign I'd screwed up. Maybe it was a lingering trace of that guilt, which is what I assumed it was. I didn't feel at fault often, so I couldn't say for sure that's what it had been. Or what it was at the moment. It was just.. strange. I didn't like it. I didn't like it because I didn't know it. If knowledge is power, then I was weakened. That made it much worse.
I was aggravating myself, again. Tugging at my own strings and blowing everything out of proportion. I just had to stop thinking. I wasn't focusing on anything in particular, so my brain was making shit up to keep me occupied. In that vein, I decided the best thing to do was shut it off for a while. Good time to, what with everyone else gone. So, I went to sleep. In retrospect, I can't be sure if that only exacerbated my problems or helped me along.
I dreamed, again.