"He's coming to. Quick, finish it!"

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder!"

Irvine felt as if he was floating up from the bottom of a deep pool. He heard voices around him, but couldn't tell whose they were. His arm ached and throbbed beneath the cool tingle of healing magic, and something hot was burning through the clothes on his back.

"There, it's done!" He recognized Selphie's voice. "Good as new. Okay, Irvy, naptime's over. Wakey-wakey!" She jabbed a finger into his cheek.

Irvine's eyelids might have been made of iron, as heavy and resistant as they were. He grimaced and groaned, finally managing to open them halfway and see Selphie smiling at him, her head twitching, her pupils dilated.

"Whoo-hoo, you're back!"

"Finally," Zell grumbled, standing just behind her. He cast a spell, and Selphie's twitching stopped. Her eyes returned to normal and she crumpled to the ground, holding her head in her hands.

"Zell, warn me next time before you dispel Aura! It leaves me all jelly-jointed."

"You wouldn't have even needed Aura if Rinoa's Recover ability worked."

"It does work," Rinoa shouted from somewhere outside Irvine's field of vision. "It works just fine on normal injuries. There was no way it was fixing that, though!"

As Zell, Selphie, and Rinoa bickered, Irvine turned his head to the side and was met with the bulging yellow eyes of an Imp. He cried out and tried to scramble away, but his arm buckled beneath his weight, and he howled as pain arced along his nerves.

"Relax," Squall said, kneeling beside him, "it's dead." He lifted the Imp's arm and let it fall to the ground.

Irvine nodded, then inspected his own arm. His sleeve was shredded, stained with blood that hadn't returned to his body with the healing spell. A faint line ran around his bicep, and the prickling sensation beneath his skin told him his tissue was still stitching itself back together.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I should ask you the same thing. But, objectively speaking, you began acting weird, then crushed an Imp to death. Before it died, however, it managed to nearly sever your arm, and you passed out."

"Ugh …"

"So, any idea what caused that behavior?"

Irvine drew his brows together and blinked. He remembered feeling strange, and losing his peripheral vision. He remembered how the Imp struggled in his grasp, but he couldn't remember why he'd attacked like that at all. He told Squall as much.

"Nothing else?" Squall asked, watching him closely.

"Nothing. You mentioned behavior. How was I acting?"

"What the hell, man? How can you forget?" Zell cut into the conversation. "You were bouncing up and down like an idiot, and dragging your knuckles on the ground. You were acting like some kind of monster!"

"And then you roared," Rinoa added. "It was a weird sound, not one I thought could even come from you. It was kinda scary."

"Not just kinda," Selphie said. "That attack was brutal. I actually felt sorry for the Imp. You should've heard it scream. You really were acting like …" She paused and put a finger to her mouth. "… a monster … wait a minute! The stance, the roar, the attack … that was an Arm Hug! Irvy, you were acting just like a Wendigo!"

Wendigo. The word stood out in Irvine's mind. It felt significant, but his thoughts were too foggy to pinpoint why. He squinted in the sunlight and looked up at Selphie, as if she could help him.

"Hey, you're right!" Zell said, glaring at Irvine. "What is this, Kinneas, some kind of sick game? Are you gonna make us guess which monster you're supposed to be? Well, count me out, you freak!"

"What? No, of course not!" Irvine looked at his comrades, at their expressions ranging from skepticism to disgust, and felt his chest tighten. Did they really think he'd do something like that? He always knew that keeping their trust was like walking a tightrope, but he thought that, after all they'd been through together, they'd realize he wasn't a bad guy. He'd never done anything like this before, and since they all seemed so eager to remind him how he hadn't changed, he couldn't understand why they'd think he'd suddenly turn sadistic now.

He really couldn't understand why Selphie would think that.

He swallowed hard. "C'mon, that's ridiculous! I'm a marksman, a ranged fighter. Why in the world would I switch to hand-to-hand combat all of a sudden?"

"Because you haven't been acting right since we got here. Screaming about spiders in the hotel room, puking your guts out in the middle of nowhere. Fallin' all over the place, like you were made of rubber –"

"Irvine." Squall's voice was level, but his eyes were cold and his jaw was set. "What is Zell talking about? Why didn't you report those symptoms?"

"'Cause I didn't think they were part of anything serious," Irvine replied. "I just thought that maybe I ate something bad, or I was exhausted from the trip. I thought they'd go away with some rest. Besides, I can't afford to be sidelined here. I need that paycheck!"

Squall sighed and closed his eyes, and Irvine wondered how high he was counting just to refrain from hitting him. "Can you walk?" he said at last.

"I think so." Irvine put a little weight on his arm. When he discovered that it was fully repaired, he pushed himself off the ground, pausing in a crouching position, then standing slowly. He took a few cautious steps forward, with Squall at his elbow, and when he was confident he wouldn't fall, he nodded and smiled.

Squall responded with a curt nod of his own. "Good. We're heading back."

"What?" Zell cried. "You can't be serious! It's still early."

"Yeah," Selphie added, "what about our quota? We haven't even collected all the Imp parts in the request yet."

"We have the next two weeks to compete the order," Squall said. "Right now, we need to get Irvine back to the city and figure out what's going on with him."

"We should've just left him KO'd," Rinoa muttered, bending down to scratch behind Angelo's ears. Irvine was surprised to see Squall glare at her.

"That would've made things worse. It would have attracted more monsters and slowed us down. We can't handle the dead weight right now."

At the words "dead weight," Irvine hunched his shoulders, wishing he could disappear. That was the last thing he'd wanted to be, and proof that he could no longer keep up with his friends. Proof that he really had been left behind, in more ways than one.

"It's at least a half-hour walk back to the car," Zell said, shielding his eyes and staring at the blue speck in the distance. "Want me to go ahead, and drive it out here?"

"No, we move as group. We've been out here long enough, and taken down enough monsters, to make our presence known and make ourselves targets. Splitting up would only put us all in more danger." Squall paused, and looked around the group. "Zell and I will remain on the offensive," he continued. "Rinoa will be on standby with Recover. Selphie, I need you to stay in Aura status, in case we get into a tight spot. Irvine, just focus on keeping up. Help out if you can, but if you start to feel strange, back off and let us know immediately. Everyone got that?"

When they indicated their agreement, Squall collected his belongings and turned toward the car. "All right, let's move out."

Because of Irvine's condition, it took them more than an hour to reach the car. Along the way, he shuffled and stumbled and slipped back into monster mode three times. The first time, Rinoa was able to patch him up without much trouble; the second, he needed Selphie's Full-Cure spell. The women tried to be patient with him, even joking among themselves that Irvine should have come with reassembly instructions. But when he tried to Arm Hug a Torama, and his innards suddenly became his outards, they were far less gracious. Rinoa revived him before Selphie had readied her spell, and he was forced to watch the whole gory spectacle of his injury replay in reverse. As the skin across his abdomen healed, Rinoa and Selphie each grabbed one of his arms and pulled him to his feet, then dusted off his clothes and nudged him forward as his insides were still arranging themselves.

All the while, the monitors on Rinoa's belt played a faint cacophony of beeps and squeals, increasing in tempo until each sound was indistinguishable from the others, culminating in a sharp crackle, followed by Dr. Odine's voice.

"Vat is going on?" he shouted. "Ze monitors are going crazy! Iz ze sorceress in trouble?"

"No, I'm all right," Rinoa replied.

"I do not believe you. Iz zere anyone else who can answer me?"

With a groan, Squall walked over, pressed the talk button on the monitor, and identified himself. "The sor – er, Rinoa is doing fine," he said. "Another operative's unpreparedness has forced her to remain on constant healing duty." He scowled at Irvine as Dr. Odine reluctantly accepted his answer.

"You'd better be telling ze truth," Dr. Odine said. The monitor crackled again, then resumed its high-pitched whining.

As Zell jogged the rest of the way to the car and Squall stood guard, Rinoa looked up at Irvine. "You really have no idea what's going on?" she asked.

"None at all," Irvine said, wincing at the pain in his abdomen. It hurt just to breathe; talking was torture.

"But what would make you mimic a Wendigo, of all things? There aren't even any out here." She smiled. "You didn't happen to get bitten by one outside of Deling City, did you? You know, like in the old horror movies?"

"No …" Wendigo. The word continued to pulse through Irvine's mind. He knew there was something more to it, but between his injuries and his junctions, his brain refused to cooperate. He turned away from Rinoa's inquisitive stare and looked at Selphie instead. Still under an Aura spell, her twitching had intensified. She paced relentlessly, keeping her eyes almost completely shut against the sunlight, and constantly brushed at her dress, even after she'd cleared it of dirt.

"Careful, Selphie," Rinoa said with a chuckle. "You'll wipe the yellow right out of your dress."

Yellow. The word jolted Irvine like the recoil from his Bismarck. Yellow … Wendigo. Yellow … equals … Wendigo … Of course! The note that came with the Blue Bullets. Green equals Cockatrice, yellow equals Wendigo. The bullet that hit him the night before, that nasty yellow gel that Zell couldn't get rid of … that was it. It had to be!

In that case … oh, no.

Zell accelerated across the plain, and brought the car to an abrupt halt in front of the rest of the party, raising a cloud of dust. "So, where to?" he asked. "Hotel or hospital?"

Squall frowned and fanned the dust away from his face. "Normally, I'd argue for discretion, and wait for our contracted doctor, but we don't know what we're dealing with here, and how much worse it can get."

"The hospital won't know either," Irvine said, holding his stomach and grinning sheepishly.

"What do you mean?"

"I kinda have the feeling they won't have seen these symptoms before."

"What makes you so sure? You know what caused them?"

"Maybe."

"Talk."

"That injury from last night, it wasn't an Imp. I caught a ricochet. An Iron Giant cast Mighty Guard just as my bullet reached it, and the bullet came back and hit me in the leg." Irvine rubbed the back of his neck. "Thing is, it wasn't an ordinary bullet."

"Go on."

"It was a new kind of ammo. Experimental. I used a few, and it looked like the bullets transformed into monster attacks on impact. There was one for a Funguar, a Cockatrice, a Grendel, and a … Wendigo."

"What is this ammunition? How did you get it? Do you have it on you right now?" Squall was all questions, his hand extended toward Irvine, palm up, waiting to confiscate the mysterious bullets.

"I don't know what it is, exactly. The box called them Blue Bullets. It's back at the hotel."

"That settles it. To the hotel."

Selphie scrambled into the backseat first, curling up by the far door and covering her eyes. Rinoa and Angelo followed. As Irvine waited to get into the car, however, he noticed his vision darkening once more.

"Uh, guys?" he said, his shoulders drawing forward. "A little help, please?"

Zell snorted and looked at him. Then, with coarsest words Irvine had ever heard come out of his mouth, he cast a Sleep spell. Irvine's muscles relaxed, his knees gave way, and he slumped toward the ground, fast asleep even before he landed.

• • • •

Irvine came to in his hotel bed, unable to move his arms or legs. Panicked, he cried out and tried to sit up, but with his abdominal muscles still tender from his run-in with the Torama, he only made it halfway before collapsing back onto the mattress with a grunt. As the remnants of the Sleep spell wore off, he registered Zell's weight on his legs, as well as that of the fabric draped over his torso. His arms were pinned to his sides by a makeshift straightjacket constructed of his own coat, put on him backwards with the sleeves pulled tight and tied behind his back. He wriggled inside of it, and managed to move his arms to a more comfortable position, before weakly asking how he'd ended up like this.

"We figured restraining you during the trip back was the safest option," Squall explained, sitting at the desk along the opposite wall. "For everybody."

"Then how'd I get up here?" Irvine's mouth was dry, and felt like it was stuffed with cotton. "Please don't tell me you carried me."

"Couldn't," Zell answered. "At least not without looking suspicious. We woke you up enough to walk, but you were so groggy, you just kept stumblin' all over. And with your arms pinned, you fell a few times, too."

Irvine groaned. In the silence that followed, he could hear high-pitched voices coming from the next room, and the sound of something being thrown against a wall.

"What's going on over there?" he asked. "Are the ladies okay?"

"Selphie's coming down off of Aura," Squall said. "She was under its effects for so long, the panic stuck with her."

"Will she be all right?"

"As soon as she realizes she isn't in critical danger anymore."

"Can't you, like, put her to sleep, or something, until then?"

"That'll put her system into stasis. It needs to pass naturally." Squall rose and stood at the foot of Irvine's bed. "Now, where are those bullets?"

"Huh?"

"The bullets you told me about. Where are they?"

"Oh, yeah. Nightstand drawer." Irvine bit his lip and felt his stomach lurch. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as Squall retrieved the box of ammunition, and he knew he was in for major punishment.

"Property of Odine Laboratories," Squall read from the package. "'Sample – for laboratory trials only.' How did you get these?"

"Found 'em at the shopping mall."

Squall stared at him.

"Seriously, I did!" Irvine said. "I was leaving the shopping mall when some lady ran into me, and all our stuff went flying. I guess I picked up the wrong box by mistake."

"You stole them?" Zell turned to look at Irvine. "I thought you said you'd bought 'em!"

"Just said I found them."

"Wait a minute," Squall said. "Zell, you knew about this ammo?"

Zell blanched. "Ah, I only know what Irvine told me. He said it was brand new ammo, and he wanted to know how it worked –"

"This isn't 'brand new;' it's still in trials. Didn't you see that?"

"He never showed me the box!"

"Is this why the two of you went out to train last night?"

Zell shifted under Squall's glare, making sure to put extra weight on Irvine's legs. "He kept pestering me! He said he'd only be a burden on us if I didn't let him practice. And – and then you took forever getting back here, so I didn't have any backup, and –"

Another scream from next door, followed by a flurry of barking and banging. Irvine started at the noise, then felt his muscles contract. His eyesight worsened and his arms writhed in his coat. Zell grabbed both of his legs and held them down as another wave of Wendigo behavior wracked Irvine's body. When it was over, Irvine glanced up at Squall through bleary eyes.

Squall sighed. "Whatever. I'll deal with Zell later." He looked at the box in his hand, then went back to the desk and lifted the telephone receiver.

"Yo, who're you callin'?" Zell asked, rubbing his wrists and rolling his shoulders after having exerted himself keeping Irvine in check.

"Quistis. Since these things come from Odine Laboratories, I figure she might know something about them. At the very least, she might be able to put us in touch with someone who does."

"Why would she?" Irvine asked, trying to prop himself up against the headboard, but sliding down into an even more uncomfortable position.

"She works there." Squall finished dialing, and waited. When Quistis answered, he explained the situation. He was quiet for a minute or two, then relief washed over his features. He commented on Selphie's condition as well, remained on the line for another few minutes, thanked Quistis, and ended the call.

"So? Does she know anything?"

"Better. She's on the development team. She got clearance to leave the lab to observe the effects of the bullets on a 'non-standard subject.'"

"Non-standard? What's that mean?"

"No idea, but you should be flattered." Squall approached Irvine, wearing a strange smile Irvine had never seen on him before. "She's coming here just to see you." Squall continued, punctuating the sentence by poking Irvine's forehead, a disturbingly familiar gesture from him that indicated how exhausted and exasperated he really was.

Silence descended on the room, but was soon broken by shrill squabbling and a piercing shriek from next door.

"That's it!" Rinoa cried. "I have tried to be gentle, but there's no way of reasoning with you!"

Her outburst was followed by the sounds of a spell being cast, then the return of silence.

Moments later, the connecting door opened, and Rinoa staggered through, her hair disheveled, a semicircular imprint of teeth on her forearm. She tossed two GF cylinders toward Squall, and as he fumbled with them, she flopped into a chair and administered a Cure spell to her arm.

"Don't worry," she said, "Selphie's going to be fine." She inspected her arm, then looked around the room. "By the way, does anyone have a Soft? I'm all out of Esuna."

• • • •

Quistis had always been efficient, and that hadn't changed. She had also always been pretty, but now she had a regal bearing to match, and Irvine couldn't help but gawk as she entered the room. Dressed in a blouse and slacks, with a string of dainty pink pearls at her throat and the strap of a large canvas bag slung across her body, she exuded maturity and authority, and made him feel incredibly young.

While the rest of them had been joking and scheming and killing monsters, Quistis Trepe had grown up.

She greeted everyone warmly, then stepped aside to let another woman, dressed in the traditional Estharian robe and headdress and carrying a large bag of her own, enter.

"This is Ghedrel," Quistis said. "She's a nurse at O. Labs who treats and monitors subjects after testing. She'll be running a quick check on Irvine and Selphie to make sure they have no serious complications."

After being briefed on the situation by Squall, Quistis and Ghedrel turned toward Irvine. Quistis smiled.

"I hear you've had a rough day," she said.

"That's an understatement," Irvine answered.

"Well, I'm sorry to say that we can't make it better immediately, but we can keep it from getting worse. How long ago was your last episode of unusual behavior?"

"About forty-five minutes ago," Squall said, before Irvine could make an estimate. "Right before I called you."

"What about frequency?"

"Increasing since this morning."

"Is Irvine junctioned?"

"He was, but Zell unjunctioned him as soon as we returned."

Quistis nodded, then conferred with Ghedrel. They came to an agreement on something, and Ghedrel fished into her bag and produced several long straps made of heavy fabric. She asked Zell to remove Irvine's coat, then began securing the straps to Irvine's wrists and ankles.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said. "What's this? Restraints?"

"Just a precaution," Ghedrel said, as she and Quistis attached the other ends of the straps to the bedframe. "We don't want you hurting anyone, or yourself."

Irvine chuckled. "You know, I think I had a dream about this, once."

Ghedrel cocked an eyebrow and looked at Quistis, who simply shook her head and retrieved a vial she had placed on the nightstand.

"Really?" Quistis said, drawing some of the liquid from the vial into a syringe. "Did that dream, by any chance, involve you being sedated?"

"No."

"Then welcome to reality." She rolled up Irvine's sleeve, and, under Ghedrel's supervision, injected the liquid into Irvine's arm. Within seconds, Irvine's body relaxed, and the activity around him seemed far away. Quistis removed a small computer from her bag, as well as a tangle of leads and a box of electrodes, and soon, Irvine's electronic accoutrements rivaled those Rinoa had sported that morning.

Irvine hovered in a twilight state, aware of Ghedrel checking his vital signs, pressing cold instruments against his skin, and drawing blood from his other arm, which she tested on a little machine set up on the desk.

"Accounting for sedation, his vitals are normal," she said, then motioned for Quistis to look at the screen of the testing machine. "However, there is still a significant amount of the distillate in his bloodstream. The lab might be able flush it out, but I'd hate to waste the opportunity to collect some data."

"You're right," said Quistis, then asked Squall a series of questions Irvine couldn't hear clearly. Something about contracts, and Laguna. She and Ghedrel spoke again for a few minutes, their tones betraying excitement, before Ghedrel gathered her equipment and asked to see Selphie.

"I'll talk to Dr. Devres as soon as I get back to the lab," Ghedrel said, on her way to the neighboring room, "and have him call you."

"Thank you."

"It's my pleasure. I don't often get to be a part of the unique cases. Usually, by the time I see a subject, they're pretty well worn out." She grinned and winked at Irvine. "Good luck."

Something in Irvine's mind told him to worry, but he couldn't muster the adrenaline to do so.

"Relax," said Quistis, resuming her seat beside his bed, "she's kidding. Now, try to rest, because as soon as Ghedrel gets Selphie sorted out, you and I have quite a lot to discuss."

Irvine nodded and closed his eyes, but sleep would not come. He opened them again when he heard the connecting door open, and saw Ghedrel escort a very wobbly Selphie into the room and onto the far bed. Quistis suggested that Squall take Selphie's place in the other room, and that Zell remain where he was to help her monitor Selphie and Irvine overnight. Before Ghedrel left, she gave Irvine one more injection, and the fuzz began to recede from his brain.

By the time he was fully awake again, the room had gone quiet. Selphie lay on her back and blinked at the ceiling, Zell paged through an issue of Combat King, and Quistis was examining the box of Blue Bullets.

"Do you know what these are?" she asked him.

"Blue Bullets?" he said.

"That much is printed on the box. Do you know why they're called Blue Bullets?"

"Uhh …"

"For that one dude, right?" Zell cut in, licking his thumb and turning a page. "Horatio Blue?"

"Horatio Blue?" Quistis pursed her lips. Her eyebrows twitched and Irvine could tell she was struggling not to laugh.

"That's what Irvine said."

"Well, he was wrong. There is no Horatio Blue, at least not to my knowledge. These bullets are named after blue magic. They're another way for blue mages to use different skills."

"That explains it, then," said Irvine. "When that red bullet hit the Iron Giant, it made some kind of laser appear. Zell said it looked like a Funguar's attack."

"That's exactly what it was. Tell me, Irvine, did you experience any discomfort from handling the bullets before using them?"

"Oh, yeah. That yellow one burned my fingers, and then I started seein' all sorts of weird stuff. Is that supposed to happen?"

"To non-blue mages, yes. Your bodies aren't able to process the monster-derived compounds like ours can. Even indirect contact has negative side effects. Think of it as eating a Malboro tentacle; blue mages derive a skill from that, but everyone else becomes violently sick."

Irvine made a face. "Yeah, but eating Malboro tentacles isn't something the average guy would wanna try."

"You'd be surprised."

"So, what's in those things, anyway?"

"We refer to them as distillates. They are concentrated substances distilled from various items and creature parts. The Estharian army uses ingestible distillates to teach skills to their blue mages; apparently, I learned my skills the hard way." Quistis smiled. "Anyway, these bullets contain distillates that have heretofore not been able to confer a skill onto a blue mage. However, your case is interesting, and suggests we may need to do more research in that area."

"What's so special about my case?"

"Firstly, that you weren't completely incapacitated. Ingestion of standard distillates by non-blue mages usually keeps them bedridden for days with severe side effects; this distillate entered your bloodstream directly, and yet you were able to remain on your feet."

"Yeah, but not in one piece," Selphie mumbled, turning onto her side and looking at Irvine. "Do you know how long intestines are, Irvy?"

Irvine gave a dry laugh. "No, I'm afraid I didn't think to measure them," he said. "Did you?"

"Very funny."

Quistis' eyes darted from Irvine to Selphie and back. Then, with a strained grin, she cleared her throat and continued. "Secondly, your actions while under the influence of the distillate were not what we at O. Labs had anticipated. As you saw with the bullets you successfully used, interaction with the distillate mimics only the effects of the attack, not the physical attack itself."

Irvine frowned. "I don't follow."

"Based on our data, when you caught the ricochet, you should have been subjected to damage consistent with a Wendigo's Arm Hug attack: pressure, broken bones, internal bleeding. Nothing in our research indicates that you would have been able to use the skill. It might be a result specific to humans, or even to your personal biological makeup. The only way to find out is to run some tests in the lab."

"I'm not sure I like what you're implying."

"Then I suggest you warm up to the idea. Ghedrel is approaching the head of blue magic research at O. Labs to request buying out your contract here."

"Buying out? No, I'm here to fight, not to be some kind of lab rat!"

"But you can't fight," Zell said. "Last night was ridiculous, and this morning was a disaster. Squall will sideline you in a heartbeat once he hears what Quistis just told you."

"Zell's right," Quistis said. "You're in no condition to fight. Even if you begin to feel better tomorrow, the distillate will remain in your system for at least several more days, and you can't be sure your symptoms won't come back. And if you can't fight, you won't get paid. At least this way, you will still be compensated for your time in Esthar, as well as repaying Odine Laboratories for the use of stolen goods."

Irvine winced.

"You didn't think we'd let you go without securing some form of recompense, did you?" When Irvine still didn't respond, Quistis patted his arm. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you. Besides, you're quite the man of mystery at the moment; I'm sure there are more than a few people at O. Labs who will find you absolutely intriguing."

That was the right button to push. Damn, Quistis knew him too well. He tried to object, but she had already stoked the flames of possibility in his brain, the chance at fame and popularity and enigmatic appeal. In spite of his reservations, a smile spread across his face, and remained there even as his body began to contort in another bout of Wendigo mimicry.

• • • •

He had fallen asleep after the episode, worn out by the events of the afternoon. When he woke, the lights were on in the room and the sky outside was a deep purple.

"Welcome back," said Quistis, typing away on her computer. "That attack you suffered was intense. Your brain activity was all over the place. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Irvine said, yawning. "A little sore, though. And really hungry."

"Well, it is past dinnertime." She glanced at Selphie and Zell. "What do you say, shall we order something?"

"You bet!" Zell bounced off his bed and retrieved the room service menu from the desk.

"While you decide, I'll see if Squall and Rinoa would like something, too." Quistis walked to the door separating the rooms and rapped on it lightly. "Are you two decent in there?" she called, smiling.

When no one answered, her smile faded. She tried the doorknob, found it unlocked, and peered into the room. No light came through the doorway, and Quistis had to wait for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. "Oh," she said, finally, then closed the door gently.

"Ah-ha!" Irvine laughed, wide awake now. "What's the matter, Quisty, stumble upon something risqué? A tangle of bedsheets, perhaps?"

"No. They aren't in the bed."

"Whoa-ho!"

"Not like that! Rinoa's slumped over the table, snoring and drooling. Squall's passed out in the chair by the window, still wearing one of his boots. The only one on the bed is Angelo." She sat down again and accepted the menu from Zell. "You really put those two through the wringer today."

"Not just them," Selphie groaned, crawling off her bed and draping herself across the foot of Zell's. "I used to like Aura magic before today. I think from now on, I'll take my lumps and get my Limit Break the old-fashioned way."

"Yeah, man," Zell added, rubbing his back, "and trying to keep this guy down during his freak-outs really threw my back out of whack."

Quistis sighed. "It looks like you were quite the troublemaker today, Irvine, for yourself and everyone around you. Hopefully, you'll redeem yourself at O. Labs."

"So, the request was approved?" Irvine asked.

"Yes, and the lab will be sending a crew to pick you up in the morning. I'll stay with you until then." She passed the menu to Selphie. "Zell and Selphie can help me monitor you, and let me know if anything changes."

"Whoo-hoo, Quisty's staying! It'll be like old times!" Selphie sat up and perused the menu. "Sorry I didn't bring any nail polish, though," she added, and she and Quistis laughed at whatever inside joke that referred to.

Irvine made his selection from the menu, and when the food arrived, Quistis released the restraints on his wrists so he could eat. They spent the rest of the evening talking, the tension of the day dissipating in conversation and memories, the tenuous connection between them strengthening once more, if only for a matter of hours.

It felt good to talk so easily and freely with his friends, and, for the first time in days, Irvine's heart felt light. He didn't want the night to end, didn't want everyone to go their separate ways again. But when the alarm clock buzzed next to his ear, and the others awoke, the bridges between them had crumbled, and the chasm felt wider and colder than before.

At a quarter past six, Squall and Rinoa joined Zell and Selphie, looking worse for the wear they'd suffered the day before. Rinoa fumbled with her monitors and yawned, and Squall seemed to be a step behind in preparing the party for battle. They bid Irvine farewell – rather stiffly, he thought – and wished him luck, then left him alone with Quistis, to await transport to the lab.

Quistis, too, was much quieter than she'd been the night before, as she checked Irvine's stats and prepared for departure. They made small talk as they waited, but never got a full conversation going, and Irvine was actually relieved when the employees from Odine Laboratories arrived to fetch him.

His relief gave way to apprehension once he was secured in the back of the car, however, and he fidgeted beneath his seatbelt. Quistis sat next to him, and admonished him to sit still; then, smiling, she pulled a small square of paper from her bag and handed it to him. The paper had been torn from the notepad in the hotel room and folded many times, and his name was written on one side in Selphie's hand. When Irvine finally pried the note open, he found a simple drawing of a chocobo in awkward flight, carrying two people on its back: a girl with hair flipped up at the ends and a guy in a cowboy hat.

Whoo-hoo, we're flying! Selphie had scribbled along the top of the page. Then below, Hey Irvy, you listen to Quisty and behave yourself at O. Labs! Get better soon. We still have sooo many adventures ahead! Good luck!

Irvine laughed. "That Sefie," he said. "She always knows how to cheer me up."

"It's nice to have someone in your corner," Quistis said, "who stays there, no matter what. Hold onto that note; I think it's going to make these next few weeks a lot easier."

Irvine didn't like the sound of that, but he was not eager to know more. He folded the note and looked out the window, and was startled when Quistis tapped his shoulder and motioned to a building on the opposite side of the skyway.

"We're here," she said. "Welcome to Odine Laboratories."