Chapter Seven
"Draw….cure!" Selphie stated, trying to summon forth magic.
Zell winced as the pressure from the hand didn't help his bruised muscles. "Ow ow ow," he muttered, trying to sit up. Selphie was adamant that he be treated, though Zell thought it was only bruising material. It only hurt when she tried to heal him.
"It's no use," Quistis told her. "There seems to be an anti-magic field here." She sighed, stretching.
Zell didn't dare mention that he had no cures to begin with. Might have had something to do with the results. "It'll be fine, Selphie. Thanks."
Selphie nodded, sighing. "There's nothing to do," she whined. "You don't know how to play triple-triad, do you?"
"Nah, I could never sit still to learn it," Zell told her. "Too busy movin' an stuff." He sat up, looking over at the instructor. "What's up?" he asked Quistis, who looked at him.
"Just using the time to sort my thoughts." She told him, looking at him. "I have a few of them indeed."
Zell didn't like the way she was glaring at him. It was her instructor look, like she was onto one of his schemes, like when he tried to fake sick to leave class early to get to the cafeteria faster, or when he had tried to jam up the paper at garden. "Quistis…" he asked, almost apologetically. "You sure you're okay?"
Quistis turned away from him. "I'm fine," she told him. "I promise."
The doors opened again, and everyone tensed this time. However, rather than an ass of a guard, a red furry creature opened the door, with packaged food on a tray.
Moomba, Zell's mind informed him. He'd read about it only briefly, he thought. Gem-like eyes revealing innocence!
Well, the thing did have really green eyes. He slid back a bit. The thing might be powerful. Zell wasn't really one to judge things by their size. Besides, if it was another guard…
The moomba tripped and the tray components went flying. Zell caught part of one. Packaged bread.
Sweet.
"What was that noise!?"
Ugh, Zell thought, it was the guard again. This time, the guard was less focused on them and more on the red fuzzy lion on the floor. "You again!?" he bellowed, filling the room with the stench of alcohol. Just like last time, the warden went for the thing on the floor and kicked it.
Damn him…. That numskull! Zell thought, standing up. "Who do you think you are!?" he raged, and the warden wasn't even aware enough to be taken aback. To be fair, last time Zell had stood up for people the same warden had handed Zell his own ass.
"Yeah, you big MEANIE! Stop that!" Selphie yelled from the floor, collecting Quistis's triple triad card from their came. Zell almost paused at that. Damn, that girl was quick. He had no idea when they had started the game.
Wait, angry guy rushing at him.
Zell caught the baton in his hand, pulled it from his hand and snapped the baton cleanly in two over his knee. The man was impressed. The girls were impressed.
Zell's knee was less so, but oh well.
"Y-you'll regret those words!" the warden shouted as he ran out, happy that the locks were automatic and not the ones that needed keys and pass-codes. Zell threw the pieces of metal into a corner as he sat down. At least scaring the man had made his self-esteem rise a bit.
The moomba looked up at him, its eyes narrowing. What are you? It seemed to be saying to him, evaluating him. Great. He'd rescued a creepy little thing.
Selphie cut in, however. "He's so mean," she whined, scooting over to the moomba. "You ok? Doesn't work so well, but… Cure!"
At least she was using her own spells this time, Zell noted. Quistis walked over to him as Selphie focused on healing the moomba. She sat down next to him, Zell's head following her as she reached his level. "What's up?" he began to ask her. Maybe she had a plan to get out or something.
"Zell, I've been meaning to ask you," she began, "How did you get that hickey on your neck?" she asked. Zell blinked for a few moments, touching the bruise.
"I have a hickey?" he asked weakly. Horror pooled inside him. If they had given him a hickey, Hyne knows what else they might have done. His body started trembling as his hands started scratching at it.
"My guess is that they cured you, and then gave you that. They wouldn't have had time to cure you again."
"They had time for a hickey," Zell stated a bit louder than she had hoped. Obviously, Zell was starting to panic again. "What else did they have time to do?"
Quistis's eyes glazed over as guilt ate at her. Zell had no idea what had happened; she'd seen this face before. "Zell. Does anything hurt? Anything feel funny?"
Zell shifted. "Just my chest, and my neck," he continued. Quistis noted blood, and she pulled his hand away.
"Then nothing happened. Trust me. If something horrid had occurred, you would know," she patted his shoulder comfortingly. "It's not something that cures will take care of." Her face darkened.
"Quistis…" Zell stated quietly, his mind, for once, grasping the situation. He looked at her and she just shrugged, smiling sadly at him. Suddenly he was less worried about himself.
"The Forces are amazing," she told him bitterly, turning to look at Selphie.
There would have been awkward silence for a few more moments but instead there was awkward noise. The moomba jumped up at Zell's bare neck. Hello! It seemed to say. Zell closed his eyes; he didn't feel threatened. When he would look back at this situation, he would always think that he really should have felt threatened.
The moomba licked the wound his hands had made and quickly pulled back. The wound tingled but when Zell reached up to touch it (and hope it wasn't infected) the wound had shut. Strangely enough, the moomba was watching him curiously, not as if it meant harm, but it still made Zell uncomfortable. "Old," the moomba managed to spit out before bowing.
"I'm actually kind of young," Zell retorted, unable to come up with more of a response.
What am I, an idiot? The sighed, still looking at the floor.
"No."
The moomba looked up at him again, their eyes meeting. Zell looked away, trying to find anything nicer than a creepy moomba face.
"Zell…" Selphie asked. "Why did you say 'no'?" Zell looked up at her, and then at Quistis. Neither had a face of compassion and understanding, although Quistis's did change into genuine worry.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up," Quistis stated. "I didn't realize you'd have a mental attack." It was supposed to be comforting yet somehow the statement came across as insulting.
"Nah, it's okay," Zell told them, sighing. What now? The entire situation was hopeless. They were locked in a cage and there really wasn't any way out. He sighed loudly.
"We can't just sit here," Quistis stated, feeling the same Zell did. "We have to think of a way to escape." There were things that happened to people in prisons. Interrogations. Beatings. Things much worse than the hickey.
"Anyone got a plan?" Zell asked, looking around. His eyes kind of fell on the broken baton before he decided it was indeed not the case.
"Well, we could skin this little guy and wear him as a disguise…" Selphie offered, cracking her knuckles.
Fuck that, the moomba cried, getting up and running behind Zell. Selphie held up her hands. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!"
Zell winced. Doesn't sound like you are…he thought. Selphie had scary sides to her indeed.
Another sigh and Zell looked over at Quistis. "Well, we can't rely on magic here, so we have to go with weapons. We have to somehow get them back…" she lamented. Apparently, she was missing her whip. Zell tried not to let the kinky stories from the Trepies fill his brain at that moment. Luckily, Zell's brain had registered yet another word: Weapons.
Weapons… My weapons are this fists o'mine! I could do some serious damage without weapons! It's up to me, baby! "Let me go! I'll get the weapons back!" He stood up, excited. The moomba backed away from him, too.
"Oh yeah!" Selphie agreed. "You worked here as Ward, so you know the place!"
"Just live it to me!" Zell lied through his teeth. All Ward did was mop floors and clean blood, so it wasn't quite the same feeling. He paused thinking of a plan.
Try a snake. Worked once, the moomba seemed to say again. Zell wasn't sure how he was getting precise words from hand movements and growls, but he nodded. "You two lie down there," he told them as he walked to the door.
Quistis did so, the entire time thinking: Don't try to break the door, please don't try to break the door, sweet Hyne, please do not let him even think of breaking the door…
Selphie did so, the entire time thinking: Please try to break down the door, break it clean off it's hinges, sweet Hyne, please let him break down that door!
Much to Selphie's disappointment, Zell called out to a guard. "Guard! Guard! We need some help! Open the door!"
The asshole guard stepped up to the door, glaring at him. "What's the problem?" He asked, trying to make sure Zell knew he didn't care and wasn't about to help. At least he had seemed to sober up a bit.
"The women are unconscious! I think a snake bit 'em!" Zell was failing his arms about wildly, and the moomba joined in.
"What." The warden shook his head before motioning to Zell to stand back. Zell did so, looking behind him for an imaginary snake. As soon as the door opened, Zell's hands dropped, as soon as the warden's soft underbelly was exposed, Zell struck. Like a ninja. Or a tiger.
Maybe a ninja tiger.
Quickly, Zell threw those useless thoughts from his head.
All the warden needed was a nice punch in the gut to give him a well-needed nap. The man didn't even utter a sound, just a soft "oft," before he fell face first into the mess of the earlier spilled tray. Selphie kicked the guard in the leg for good measure.
"Well, I'm off!" Zell stated, opening the door wider. The moomba caught his eye, waving his had around. Let me go.
"Huh? You wanna go, too?" Zell asked, hoping that he was really just imagining words and that creatures could not actually talk to him.
The moomba nodded.
"Aah, I guess… Just don't get in the way!" As soon as he stated that, the moomba ran out the door and headed for the stairs leading up. Zell blinked, but then followed it. To be fair, the moomba probably knew more about the prison right now than he did. As he bounded up the steps, not knowing how much he would hate them, a little ding from his communicator beeped.
He looked at it, the tiny little watch like device that no one ever realized was a communication device.
Apparently, he'd just gotten his SeeD pay.
A part of him paused. How the hell could SeeD reach him here to tell him that, and if they could, why didn't they come save him? As if to apologize, it beeped again.
He'd just got paid twice.
Hyne, sometimes Garden made no sense, he thought, rubbing the back of his head. The moomba growled for him to hurry up from above. Sighing, Zell followed.
Zell could vaguely remember someone telling him a poem about moombas. Their noses stronger than all the dogs combined…
He shoved the memory aside, knowing he'd regret it later, but the moomba had indeed used that nose to find something important: two soldiers, looking at SeeD weapons.
"Look at this… SeeD weapons," one stated, as if taking the words from Zell's brain and plucking them into life.
The second one swung around a gunblade. "Is this what they call a gunblade?" the second one asked.
The first promptly hit him over the head. "Our soldiers use that, too," he told him. "Really, do you not pay attention? Look at these. A whip, a nunchaku…" the man gave a squeal that made Zell wince.
The moomba started nudging him forward, so Zell tried to calmly walk up to the men. Tried was the operative word. His heart was pounding, his fists were shaking, and his adrenaline was pumping. There was no way he was any sort of calm, not right now.
"Y-You, an escapee?" One asked, sounding really frightened.
Zell tapped his chest. "Yo, I'm here to reclaim these!"
One soldier went for him straightaway. With a quick sidestep and a chop to the neck, the first guy was out. The second started firing bullets. "This was my first day!" the blue guy cried out. Zell managed to duck and roll underneath the long barrel, taking it out of the guys hand and punching his gut much like he had with the mean warden. The soldier collapsed.
"You okay?" he asked the moomba, who fluffed its fur and roared. "Piece of cake, baby," he stated, taking the weapons- and gun- for good measure.
He didn't like guns, personally. Even if Grandpa had used them, anyone really could use them. It took a special sort of strength to specialize in a particular weapon, like nunchuku or whips or gunblades. 'Course, that guy Irvine, would probably argue that point. He ran down the stairs, flinging open the door. "Yo, sorry to keep ya waitin'!" He called out, and Selphie clapped her hands.
"Zell, the weapons?" Quistis asked, one eyebrow raised. That was a bit fast.
"Voila!" Zell stated, presenting them.
"Whoo-hoo! Alright!" Selphie cheered. They all did some individual celebratory dance, before the fun was cut short.
The mean guy again. Zell groaned. He didn't really like the idea of killing people, but he might make an exception.
"Is this the cell with the uncooperative prisoners?" a voice asked.
"Yes, this is it. Please give 'em something to really complain about."
Selphie snapped her nunchaku angrily. Another voice spoke. "Should we be picking on prisoners so soon after getting transferred here, sir?"
"Just be quiet, and let me handle this!" the first voice stated again.
"Doesn't that sound familiar?" Selphie asked Zell. "I swear I've heard those two before..." Zell nodded in agreement.
"T-these are the prisoners, Lieutenant Biggs, Private Wedge."
Biggs? Wedge? Zell stood back as the two entered.
The emotions were unanimous, save for Quistis. The room exploded into "AAAHHH!!!" as they pointed at each other. It was safe to say that both parties had hoped and expected never to see each other again.
"S-so we meet again!" Biggs started to say, knees shaking. "Now we'll teach you the lesson we should have taught you earlier! I know it might seem cowardly to fight unarmed prisoners…" he trailed off for a moment before Wedge poked him, trying to get his attention. All it did was make Biggs pick up again. "But I dope you appreciate our position. Hey, it's a dog eat do-"
Quistis cracked her whip menacingly.
Wedge paled. "Uh, They're fully armed, sir…"
…..........
Zell wasn't sure how he got himself into these positions. Sure, he'd been affected by what Squall looked like when he'd come to, and he'd been affected by the alarms blaring at him left and right. What he'd done, he realized, was volunteer for a suicide mission. Staying behind so everyone could be lowered to safety. He'd have to run down flights of stars and through alarms and that was a hand on his ass, wasn't it?
"Figured you'd be an escapee," the voice whispered into his ear. Zell snapped away from it, falling onto his previously groped butt. How come every time Seifer showed up he had to loose all grace he ever had?
"What'd you expect?" Zell asked him, watching the gunblade close in over his throat. "A chicken?"
The taller man smirked. "You're lucky she wanted Squall," Seifer told him. "He knows more, anyway. Besides, chicken, you wouldn't have lasted three seconds in that thing."
"What thing?" Zell asked. "What the hell'd ya do to Squall?"
Seifer's smirk turned something evil. "Fried chicken," he mused to himself. "I like the sound of that, I do. Do you think, chicken, do you think if I fried you they'd come running?"
Zell paled. Seifer was an ass, but would he do this? Seifer was his enemy, Zell reminded himself. Seifer was going to always be his enemy. "When were you such a bastard? That's low, even for you," he began, but the blade came closer and his mouth shut. Seifer loomed in.
"Shh. She's looking out for you, too," Seifer told him gently. "You see, she convinced me that I didn't have to fuck you then. I'll have all the time in the world," Seifer told him. "In her utopia, safe from Garden, and safe from SeeDs."
The hickey. Zell's face fell completely and his eyes unfocused as he realized that Quistis had every right to be worried. "What did you do to me?" Zell asked, trying to piece together ideas of his memory. Was he violated in that place? He couldn't remember.
"Just a hickey," Seifer told him, using the gunblade to force Zell's chin up. "I told you already, chicken, I didn't do anything else. She's so much smarter than I am, you see. She knew if I did anything else you'd hate me, and you'd leave me for Squall, and we can't have that, right?" He smirked. "Stand up," he commanded. "I can't have you running around."
Zell stood, aware that though he'd be stronger, his reach wasn't near anything compared to Seifer and his gunblade. Cursing the man with his breath, he allowed himself to be led out of the room, down the stairs, and in front of the damn table. "Lay down, Zell," Seifer commanded.
The choice was near impossible to make. If he lay on the table, Seifer would win. He'd be helpless. If he stayed as he was, he'd be dead.
"I hate you," Zell told him slowly, unmoving. "I'd rather-"
His chest suddenly burned again, like it had earlier. Zell doubled over, and Seifer took no hesitation in strapping Zell to the table. As Zell fought against the restraints, he realized that Squall's blood was still on some of them. Electricity tingled against his back. Seifer leaned over him, and Zell clawed at the restraints to get at them. "Damn you!" Zell yelled. "Damn you Seifer!"
"Shh," Seifer stated, stroking Zell's hair as if he was not aware that Zell was picturing his gory death. "I'll save you."
"You bastard! You're going to fry me!"
"Silence," Seifer cast, hoisting Zell upright. Zell pounded against the restraints, but Seifer simply walked away, heading to the control panel. He hit a button.
Instead of a million volts going through him, someone spoke. "Yes, Commander?"
"The prisoners are on the bottom floor. Use every means available to contain them. We have a live specimen in our grasp, it doesn't matter if the others live or die."
"Understood," the commander said, an almost relieved tone to his voice. Relieved that he was going to kill innocent people.
Seifer looked at him. "You know, I've never really considered bondage before," he thought out loud, walking in front of him. Zell yelled more silent words, his neck straining. Seifer smirked as he watched the hickey pulse with each heartbeat.
"Zell, Zell. SeeD has brainwashed you, you know. They keep the best from reaching their potentials. They keep you in the dark. What good is a military facility that teaches children to kill things?"
The martial artist's mouth went slack at the mention of his name. Seifer's face came closer. "How would your Ma react if I told her how you slaughtered our men? If I told her you actually decapitated a man with those feet you'd run around in her garden with?"
Broken. That's what Seifer had been hoping for. "See? A real school would never teach you to make your Ma cry." He petted Zell's knee, the only real part of him he could touch.
"Bastard," Zell worded, unable to make a sound.
"Zell," Seifer replied. "Don't you see how romantic this is?"
Cold shock entered him again. Seifer was crazy. Crazy crazy crazy. Seifer slid the table down, back to the laying-down position and kissed Zell on the mouth. Zell's mouth stayed shut, but Seifer wasn't aiming for anything more than chaste right now, anyway.
"I'm going to save you, Zell. I'm going to save you from that damned Squall and then we will be happy." Seifer nuzzled him. "Even if my brain buzzes," he continued, "I still know that you and I were always meant to be."
With that, he lifted the slate back up. "Moombas!" he called, and three came running into the room. "Keep an eye on him. Report if anyone other than a staff member enters the room." With that, he looked up at Zell. "Goodbye for now, princess," he told Zell, and not with an evil smirk, which made it all the worse. "Your future lover is off to do busy work for our sorceress."
And just like that, the bastard was gone, leaving Zell the most vulnerable he had felt in years. Damn it, he thought, wanting to cry. Why can't I be strong enough? He struggled again at the constraints.
"Strong?" A moomba piped up, staring at his head. A teardrop hit it's nose, and the moombas started squeaking. Crying, Crying! Why is he crying!?
How could this happen? Zell wanted nothing to do with an evil sorceress, or to become Seifer's "future lover". He wasn't Seifer's thing. He wasn't.
The restraints suddenly opened, and Zell fell onto the ground. He didn't even bother to catch himself, and the moombas shuddered unanimously as he hit the ground. "Damn it," he uttered. "Damn it, Damn it, Damn it…." Oh, his voice was back. Now he could shout at a Seifer who wasn't there.
"Dddon't give up!" One moomba told him, helping him up. It licked a scratch on his leg.
The moomba took a step back suddenly. The other moombas sniffed the air and then launched themselves at Zell's leg, Zell not even caring. Hell, all Seifer wants to do is eat me, he thought bitterly.
"Old!" they started crying out. "Old!" They waved their paws around them excitedly. Two moombas ran off while the third stayed, trying to help him up. "ffery old!" It shouted at him again. "Fferry!"
"I'm not a fairy," Zell stated automatically, but when the two moombas returned with a mirror, something inside him shivered.
His reflection was smirking at him. Of course you're not. Fairies don't have the ability to travel through mirrors, his reflection seemed to say.
"Hhome!" came a moomba's cry. "Fairy, home!"
Zell looked at them, looked at the mirror, and his reflection shrugged. Can't send them home if you don't know where they live, his reflection stated.
"Show me other moombas. Not here," he stated, commanding the mirror. The reflection shook its head disapprovingly, but Zell saw a cave with other moombas. And… garden staff, he guessed.
"Shumi," his mouth supplied for him. The earth-walkers.
Where was all this knowledge coming from? He touched a mirror, and it rippled.
"Fairy! Home!" the moombas cried, jumping into the mirror. He could see the three on the other side, suddenly, and they waved at him, encouraging him to come in.
"What the hells goin' on in here?" came a cry, and Zell jumped to his feet, shattering the mirror and taking off to downstairs.
Nothing had just happened. Seifer hadn't just told him that his lifelong goal was to have Zell's love, in or out of chains, and Zell hadn't just sent three life forms he didn't know things about through a mirror. It was a giant nightmare occurring, a giant fucking nightmare and when Squall appeared he had never been happier in his life.
...…...
"I've gotta go home!" he was saying. "Mother will worry!"
"You're an orphan now! You don't have parents!" a little boy was yelling at him, holding him back.
"Zelk?" the mirror was crying. "Zelk, where are you? Why are you hiding, my baby?"
"Mother is calling me!" Zell yelled, inching towards the mirror. It glowed slightly, the full body-length. Even the boy could feel the magic radiating off of it.
"Mother! Help me! He's keeping me here!" Zell cried. "Mother!"
The magic deepened. The boy hit Zell on the head and managed to throw him back before he felt the deep and angry magic again. This time, it was coming from the boy.
The mirror exploded into a million tiny pieces, each hot and searing as they hit the ground. The boy was breathing heavily as he turned to face Zell, his body almost burning.
"You're mine, you understand? Nobody else's. You're my friend and mine alone."
"I'm not ever gunna be yours!"
Zell woke up into the night, sitting upright on the train. "Zell?" came a voice, and he looked up to see Rinoa and Angelo staring at him.
It took him a while before he realized where they were. Irvine'd come back, rescued them, and now they were headed toward Balamb garden to try and evacuate people. That would at least be simple, he decided. There'd be plenty of time to worry about this whole situation later.
"Just a nightmare," Zell told her. "Sorry."
"Take care, Zell. They're just dreams." She fell back to sleep, but Angelo was watching him still. Food?
Zell winced. He could tell what she was saying, and it worried him. With the dreams he was having… maybe he was a fairy after all? Grandpa's nickname for him had been an affectionate "fairy boy" when he was younger, too…
"I don't have food," he informed her, and Angelo sighed and flopped over, sleeping again. Zell scratched his head and lay back down, hoping he'd be able to sleep peacefully, too. After all, evacuating SeeD would be tense, but they should be able to make it.
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A/N: So one of the things I'm finding is as I go back through the story, I have horrible, horrible, shameful mistakes that I'm going to try and fix. I'll be reworking some of the chapters; since this fic is so old, plot points that no longer matter will be erased for clarity, and new hints will be hidden, I guess, though I suppose if you spend every day of your life reading this fic (doubtful) then you would notice.
Someone asked if my chapters were done; no. I managed to actually write this one in a few weeks, and I'm not sure how. Before the next chapter you'll see edits and removals of previous author notes, because they are no longer relevant.
I am suddenly starting to see why so many people have beta-readers now. Ah, well. It's always good to review your fics again anyway.
Yes, Creepy Seifer is creepy. It has been a long time since I wrote with creepy Seifer (I've not published those ever), and the great part is, creepy Seifer will write himself. There was no hand on ass, no table use again in the original draft, but there was creepy Seifer, so blame him.