"A true friend stabs you in the front."
-- Oscar Wilde
-. Possession .-
Chapter 7: …Friends …
"URga!" Selphie dropped the last of the Squall and Rinoa's gear on the landing pad concrete with a triumphant surge of relief, raising her arms above her head in a stretch while doing a victory jig. Kayle was a lucky bastard since he was the only one strong enough to carry the now-unconscious Squall into Garden, thus exempting him from unloading duty. And Rinoa being, well, the closest thing Squall will ever come to a healthy relationship, she had a get out of jail free card to pass straight on to the infirmary with him, her wrist caught in a death grip between his immovable fingers.
That left poor-lil'ole Selphie to do the dirty work. Yet again, by coincidence. And though it may have made more sense to wait for help in the morning, the perky SeeD had her very good reasons for immediate action.
There was a rather strict un-spoken rule among those few pilots qualified enough to use the Ragnarok. If you left your mission junk in the cargo hold after leaving the ship up for grabs, then the bay doors were prone to "accidentally" popping open during a trans-oceanic flight once the next pilot got a hold of her.
She herself actually had been the one to invent this rule after one too many times of Nida ignoring her repeated requests to remove his crap. And like hell he was getting the revenge he so craved tonight. Her pride was at stake, regardless of the screaming she was sure to face if she had lost the Commander's belongings.
As expected, only seconds after the last bag had hit the floor, Selphie heard the familiar 'woosh' of the air-seal being released from Garden as someone stepped onto the roof-top landing pad, their high heels clicking on the pavement. Probably Nida in an attempt to steal the ship, thinking she wouldn't dare unload alone at this time of night…joke's on him.
She turned to face her quarry, a haughty smirk already developing on her lips. "Nice try dumbas-"
But instead of a tall dark male, Selphie found herself facing an even taller blonde female, striding forward at a brisk pace with the distinct air of a woman on a mission.
Selphie's expression immediately turned sullen. She should have known by the sound of the shoes. Nida was weird but he wasn't the type of guy to dress up in heels. Not in public anyways.
Within seconds, Quistis arrived at the pile of baggage, giving her co-worker the benefit of a slight nod before roughly tugging down the zipper of the nearest duffle bag of Squall's belongings. She showed not the slightest hint of hesitation before beginning to rifle through it, a pen poised between her perfectly white teeth and a clipboard clamped between her knees as she searched.
If it had been anyone else Selphie may have been baffled, perhaps even violently defensive. But Quistis will be Quistis, her motives always a mystery and her authority unquestionable. Besides, whatever her reasons, Selphie's cheer was immediately restored as she remembered the juicy stock of gossip she had picked up over the course of the evening, ready and eager to share - whether the audience was interested or not.
"Hey Quisty! You'll never believe the drama tonight!" she bounced over to the opposite side of the pile, excited to be the first one with the details about the Commander's brush with death. That is, before she remembered this particular SeeDs involvement in the whole affair. Her smile instantly melted.
"By the way, that was a really rotten thing you did; demanding that Kayle remove his stock of morphine. The poor man got shot in the groin area! And we've had to dope people up for less."
Quistis shrugged again, tossing one duffle bag full of regular clothing away before moving onto the next. "He lived, didn't he?"
"Pfft, no thanks to you. In the end he passed out the pain was so much."
She hesitated then, her long fingers staying stalk still for a moment as the words sunk in. In that instant, Selphie could have sworn she saw a pang of regret pass through the co-Headmistress' eyes. Either that or a bug flew into her spectacles but, assuming not, that one millisecond of indecision was enough to prove to Selphie that her friend was a far cry from a true militant monster.
"Aha!" she waved an accusatory finger in the woman's face. "I saw that! You feel bad."
Quistis gave her dry glare while continuing to unpack yet another bag of clothing, more aggressively this time. "Of course I feel bad" she admitted gloomily. "I wish I didn't have to do it, but I still think he had it coming. Like…like spanking a child for stealing from the neighbors. Cruel but," she paused, struggling to find the right word, twisting her wrist in circles while waiting for it to come to mind. "Necessary. Yes. Cruel but necessary."
"Necessary?" Selphie repeated incredulously, hands resting defensively on her hips. "You don't think him getting shot was punishment enough?"
"That was just karma."
"Karma!? Are you serious?"
Quistis let out a frustrated scowl and glared at her co-worker from over the edge of her spectacles, pushing them further down her nose to enhance the effect. "Is there a reason you're still here Selphie?"
The brunette merely shrugged, winding her arms like windmills in order to get the extra kinks out. "Just protecting the gear from Nida dumping it in the Ocean."
Quistis rolled her eyes, having had to listen to complaints about the war between the Ragnarok pilots more than enough. Two weeks earlier the third pilot, Brohan, had a mysterious keycard malfunction that, when inserted into the ignition, set off the intruder alarm and locked him inside the hull restroom for nearly nineteen hours before someone found him. Before that, Captain Keiko had stood to leave the bridge only to discover that super-glue had been generously applied to the captain's chair. She returned to Garden with the entire back half of her uniform skirt missing. And then there was the famous one of Nida's painstakingly collected stock of adamantine shells being 'accidentally' unloaded due to a cargo door malfunction. Everyone had been hit by practical jokes. Everyone…except Selphie. And she worked damn hard to avoid em'.
"Well they won't try anything while I'm out here." Quistis asserted, continuing her search. "Go to bed. Get ready for your vacation. You've done good work here tonight. I'll be sure to pass commendations on to the Headmaster."
"I dunnoooo…" Selphie whispered dubiously, her eyes darting over every square inch of the platform. "I wouldn't put it past them to try something tonight. They know I plan on taking the ship out tomorrow for my trip to the island since I had to put in my name for rank reservation to bypass their dibs."
"What?! You elite mission reserved the ship to…"
Quistis shook her head in aggravation, hastily removing her spectacles in order to massage the skin between her eyes. A head ache was certainly on its way according to the throbbing of her temples. "Look, leave now and I'll pretend I didn't hear that you intend to 'borrow' our only emergency air vehicle for personal business. And I promise to take care of the gear. Okay?"
Selphie took a moment to consider this, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. "I guess that sounds okay…"
"It's more than okay. I'll handle it. Now please go to bed."
"But, what about the ship? After you leave I mean. I can practically feel them scheming from in there." Her gaze wandered over towards Garden's body, eyes narrowing maliciously at the enemies dwelling within. Just waiting for their moment to pounce. "They're certainly going to try something tonight. I can feel it. The opportunity is too perfect."
"You do realize that you're, at the moment, the dictionary definition of paranoid?" her stare gradually wandered from Selphie's apprehensive stance back down to the task at hand, scribbling notes on her clipboard as she went. "After all, so far it's only been you to take these pranks so seriously."
"Hey!" Selphie grinned evilly, her eyes glinting with manic mischief. "Need I remind you that no proof has ever been found that at all links me to any of those unfortunate accidents."
Quistis grinned, nodding her head in reluctant agreement. Selphie was, after all, a professional. It would have been disappointing indeed if one of their elite mercenaries had been caught in such a childish scheme. They were trained to avoid detection at all costs. What would the spy-network clients think?
"I'll apply curfew regulations to the air dock as soon as I leave" she promised, taking a moment to clear her throat, reposition her glasses, mark something on her clip board and then dive into a new random box among the couple's belongings. "No one except Administrators will have access to the ship. Satisfied?"
"I dunno…"
"And…" it was getting late and Quistis was getting more than a little weary of this run-around. Time to pull out the big guns, so to speak. "I'll throw in not showing Cid the actual proof I have of you committing all those stupid pranks."
"Wha-huh?" Selphie's eyes narrowed, sure that her leg was being pulled. It was impossible. "What proof? You don't have any proof."
It was Quistis' turn to grin maliciously. "The security log-in printouts of course. The ones you attempted to erase and I dug up. Your code, entered the nights in question, your proof, your ass on the line."
Selphie was good. But Quistis was just so much better.
The shorter woman gulped, meeting her superior's unwavering stare with incredulous eyes. Cid had threatened immediate removal of flying rights to the culprit and Selphie loved that ship more than Zell loved hot dogs, which needless to say was an unhealthy amount. It was her stress-reliever, her one extraordinary privilege and talent that set her remarkably above the rest and, secretly, Irvine's favorite place to sneak into for some much-needed 'alone-time'.
That ship was her favorite thing in all of Garden, which was the reason she was so antagonistically possessive of it in the first place. Quistis was, of course, completely aware of all that.
"So," she began again, one daring eyebrow raised in question. "I ask again. Are you satisfied?"
Seeing no other choice, Selphie let her shoulders slump in defeat, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "I guess it'll have to do."
Quistis nodded, once again retaining the air of a professional. "Good" she said, turning to continue rummaging through the Ragnarok's baggage, cataloguing every item of pertinence, cringing when one specific box sent a cloud of dust in her face upon removing its lid.
"But don't forget!" Selphie called in warning before making a move towards the exit, relieved beyond belief at having once again escaped reprimand.
Quistis ran a tough ship, but she was an experienced enough leader to know that the rules sometimes needed to be bent in exchange for the greater good. And in this case, luckily, she had bigger fish to fry.
Poor Squall.
Maybe it would even be beneficial to his case if the guy fell into a coma for a few weeks, as Kayle said was a possibility. Just long enough for things to cool down since, at the moment, Quistis definitely had it out for him. Who knew what she was even scavenging through his belongings for. Perhaps some secret journal that bluntly stated his plans of betrayal?
Yeah right. She sniggered at the ridiculousness of the thought.
Dear Diary. It's me again.
My hair's just not doing that sexy-swoop thing it usually does today. Bummer. Am still sexually ambiguous. Selphie is an amazing and talented woman. Plan to join sorceress in quest for world domination.
Whatever.
With Love, Squall.
"Whatcha doing?"
Quistis promptly dropped the clay plate she had been holding, causing it to shatter into a million pieces on the pavement when her hands leapt to her heart. One minute Selphie had been two steps from the exit, far in the background, and now she was suddenly beside her again, casually yammering in her ear. It was uncanny the way that girl could move. She probably should have majored in espionage instead of piloting.
"Geez Selph. How many times do I have to tell you…"
"Don't sneak up on you, ya ya. I know. It's not my fault you're so unperceptive. So, tell me, what are you doing?"
Quistis sighed a sigh of mourning for the relic plate before deftly moving on with her search, tackling the box that seemed to have the most interesting items so far. "I'm looking for evidence." She stated simply.
Selphie crinkled up her nose in revulsion at the idea. "What, like…birth control?"
"Nooooo." She didn't bother with the cringe that her brain automatically wanted to conjure, wondering why everything had to be so outrageous with Selphie. "Not only is that none of my business but, if you want my professional opinion, I sincerely doubt anything to that effect is going on between Squall and Rinoa."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Because," she waved the question away, silently adding that Squall was way too petulant a male to be getting that kind of attention from any woman. Ever. "I'm looking for evidence as to where they've been exactly." She removed a long, delicate bronze chain and locket from the dusty box, turned it over a few times in her hands and then scribbled a brief description on the clip board before moving on.
"Hey! I remember that!" Selphie exclaimed, diving for the locket. "I can't believe he took it! After all that crap about showing respect. I knew he was lying."
"What? You recognize it? Where's it from?"
"The Ruins of Odin. Remember? There was this old room that must have once, obviously, belonged to a girl and there was all this funky old stuff in it. Squall was uber-bitchy that day though and made me put everything back. Saying it may be cursed and all the hooey. But I remember this. I tried to sneak it out but he caught me. Observant jerk."
"From Odin's Ruins? The Centra Tower you mean?" Quistis pushed, in full interrogation mode, some unknown emotion pulsating beneath her eyes. "Are you sure?"
Selphie nodded. "I am one hundred percent positive that this necklace came from there." She scrutinized the oval locket, laying it out flat in her palm in order to observe the small center ruby shimmer and the oxidized metal gleam in the soft twilight. Exactly as she had a year ago when finding it among the crumbling ruins. It was then, and still was, a captivating trinket. "Hey, didn't Rinoa say they had just come from excavating the ruins? And that they got bored so they headed to the orphanage?"
The blonde SeeD nodded, clenching and unclenching the dragging bit of bronze chain between her fingers. "Yeah. I mean, yes. Yes she did say that."
Selphie tossed the necklace up in the air and caught it again, a victorious smile gracing her features. "So there's your proof. So far they've only been exactly where they've said they've been."
"So far. True." She scanned the gear and saw three other such boxes scattered among their belongings. "However, I'm still going to look. Who knows what Squall and Rinoa have been doing this past week."
"Hmm. Well here's a perhaps crazy though substantially less tedious thought." She paused for dramatic effect, pressing a finger to her lips. "How about…you ASK THEM?!"
Quistis shook her head softly. "Don't be naïve Selphie. People lie. Luggage doesn't."
"Well then," the pilot stood up, brushing the dirt from off of her knees as she did so "Have fun with your luggage. I'm going to go check on my friends."
"Selphie" she called when the girl had gotten no more than ten steps away. Selphie turned, arms crossed across her chest, waiting.
Quistis gulped. "I'm not a bad person."
She didn't know why she felt the need to enforce that fact. Maybe it was just because she felt her friend losing faith in her. And people's faith was all she had. Since loosing her instructor's license, since loosing faith in herself. She was lucky to have the co-Headmistress job, to have Garden as a home. She would do anything to keep it and its residents safe.
"You're not a bad person Quisty" Selphie assured her, yelling to be heard over the screaming wind. "You're just not a very good friend!"
She didn't know why, but Quistis smirked at this. After all, she wasn't aiming to be a friend. She was aiming to be a good SeeD. And whether or not that was the right goal to be striving for, only time would tell.
"I'd like to have that necklace back by the way," she yelled back, laughing as she watched her friend curse at being caught yet again. She pulled the long chain out of her pocket and violently pitched it back.
Quistis caught it with ease and waved, now her turn to smile triumphantly, as she watched the usually bouncy brunette sulk towards the exit.
Still chuckling, the SeeD returned to her cataloguing, pulling out more and more various trinkets and artifacts from the boxes. She labeled each item to the best of her ability, striving to find something, anything that belonged to neither the Centra Tower Ruins nor the Orphanage.
A few books, pottery, jewelry, scraps of paper, and one decrepit looking stuffed animal. Other than that, nothing. At least nothing that hinted to some ulterior motive to the vacation. For clothing and survival gear, Squall and Rinoa had brought nothing more than the necessities; socks, a change of boots, blankets, and (Rinoa being an optimist that she was) a single woman's swimsuit. Nothing unusual. No manuals on the art of war. No weapons other than their usual choices, the gunblade and pinwheel.
Quistis slumped backwards, exasperated with the fruitless search at finding some credible evidence. She had been so sure after hanging up the communicator call with Rinoa, so one hundred percent positive that something furtive was in the process of happening, had been happening for a while now. Everyone could feel it actually. But while some preferred to giggle at the prospect of a secret affair, Quistis took a more realistic route and blamed the tension on something more severe, something applicable to Garden. Rinoa was a sorceress after all. History had long since deemed her incapable of being trusted, always with a knight at her side to do the dirty work.
Rinoa's new powers. Squall's anal retentive and constant need to shadow and coach her. This vacation. The gunblade training. It all added up to conspiracy.
Quistis ran down the list of items again, knowing very well that nothing new was likely to jump off the page. The possibility of her simply being paranoid was becoming a more and more likely a scenario. Rinoa was a far cry from the evil, twisted witches of the history texts. And there was nothing new about Squall acting sheltered and shifty.
She fell back onto her knees, forcing her mind to concentrate simply on the dire process of breathing. Squall and Rinoa were apparently innocent, and she was still juggling the sensations of being relieved, disappointed, and terrified. But now was neither the time nor the place for one to admit to such a grave, embarrassing and potentially paralyzing mistake.
Her brooding thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Garden's air-lock lifting. Quistis turned to face the doorway, squinting in the dim light to see three shadowy figures creep slyly across the airstrip platform, each body lugging something large in their arms.
With a grunt of annoyance, Quistis shuffled through Squall's belongings for the high beam flash light she had spotted earlier.
"Halt!" she yelled while directing the blinding beam on the trio making towards the Ragnarok, illuminating their shocked expressions and their…original cargo.
The three pilots, Nida, Brohan and Keiko, stood petrified on the platform with their jaws hanging open, each of them lugging cages filled to the brim with flapping pigeons, cans of whipped cream, and buckets of what looked like oatmeal floating in slime.
Quistis approached tentatively, keeping the flashlight beam firmly in their eyes while scrutinizing their possessions. A prank indeed.
'What…the hell?'
In the end, she opted to snap the light shut, gesturing towards the exit with a groan of complete and utter exasperation.
"Go to bed" She told them meekly while tossing the flashlight back into the general pile of Squall's belongings.
"I don't even want to know."
___
Squall opened one eye. Then another.
There was light. Bright white light. Everywhere.
'Am I dead?'…
He laughed at the thought, even though it wasn't exactly something to laugh about, and as his chest filled with air to expel the sound, he noticed that he was breathing. Slowly, but breathing none the less. Not only that, but he was moving too.
White, blue. Blue, white. The light was changing, morphing into various shapes and sizes. Moving fast too. Speeding almost.
He groaned and closed his eyes again, feeling the blissful haze of delirium gradually begin to lift and be replaced with nausea. Then the voices came.
"I think he's waking up?!" she sounded far away, almost as if underwater, but the words were comprehensible enough. As was the voice's owner.
"Ri-Rinoa?"
"Shh. Don't talk." She warned him. Her fingers, still coiled between his own, tightened their hold. She was so warm. More sounds gradually joined her voice. Other people, rushing water, multiple heels clicking on polished marble, the wheels of the gurney squeaking under his weight. He was back at Garden, he realized with a start.
Thank Hyne.
"How bad is it?" her voice wasn't directed at him anymore, but to someone standing on the other side. Someone heavier according to the sound of their footsteps.
"You said he was sick?"
A bright light was flashed in his eye which he struggled to get away from, but his attempts came to nothing more but a disheartened whine. He hated this. Hated being so pathetic and docile. Where were the damn drugs?
"Yes, for nearly ten minutes. Then he started bleeding again."
"I wrapped the wound as tight as I could doctor, I assure you" came another voice. A young male. The medic cadet Kayle. "He must have torn it further open."
He felt the gurney turn sharply, probably having arrived at the bridge to the infirmary.
"He'll need a transfusion. What's his blood type?"
"Uhh…"
"AB," Rinoa quipped instantly. How the hell did she know that?
"Universal receiver. Nice. That makes our job easier. And Kayle, you should have read his profile before even attempting any remedial action. What if he was allergic to something? Strike one."
"Sorry doctor."
"Don't be sorry. Don't do it again."
"Yes doctor. I-I mean no doctor. I won't do it again."
The gurney turned again, and the smell of the air changed. The citrus polish used in Garden's halls gradually morphed into the infirmary's antiseptic and astringent scent. It made his eyes water.
"Help me move him." Kadowaki yelled.
"Whoa…Na- I'm okay" at this Squall drew the line, making a rather pathetic attempt at sitting up the moment with felt several pairs of intruding hands clamp onto different parts of his body. "I-I'm not a complete invalid yet."
"Ignore him" Kadowaki ordered, placing her own hands firmly on either side of his head to bring him back down. "On the count of three. One. Two."
"Wait! I-I can…"
Before he had another chance to protest, Squall had already been thrown onto a new bed, the movement influencing another fresh wave of pain to punch him brutally in the gut. He groaned loudly upon landing and turned on his good side, clutching the sheets in one hand and squeezing Rinoa's fingers still in the other. For some reason, he found it impossible to let go. It hurt too much. It would hurt so much more if she were to let go.
"Kadowaki?" he mumbled to the large, blurry, white-clad figure somewhere in front of him.
"Yes Squall?"
"I-I…haate you."
"Aww. Well ain't that charming. Now on your back."
"I'm serious Kad-Kadowaki" she was manually ripping his fingers away from the sheets now, pushing onto his opposite shoulder in order to force him to roll backwards. He gave her the best death-glare he could muster considering his barely useable vision. "Next month…budget cuts galore for the infirmary. I-I'm serious."
"Yeah, whatever. Kayle, go fetch a fresh pair of gloves. Rinoa, bring over that cart in reception. We're going to need to clean the wound again before we go digging for that bullet."
Squall felt a weak few tugs on his fingers, one of the few sensations available beyond the mind-numbing pain. Rinoa, trying to get away. He held on tighter, silently reminding her of her promise not to let go. She couldn't leave him, not now. He wouldn't let her.
He heard her sigh, then shuffle to adopt a more comfortable position by his side.
"I can't" Rinoa said, giving up on escaping and instead opting to return his grip equally tightly within both of her hands.
"Why not?"
"He-he won't let go of me."
"Oh for the love of-" the doctor sighed and shuffled into reception, dragging back along with her the cart of sterilized utensils. "He comes in here once a year and causes more trouble than all other patients combined."
"Your gloves." Kayle was back. Squall managed a small wave of hello with his free hand pinky before letting it drop onto his forehead. Kadowaki, with gloves now in place, had already begun cutting around the absolute top of his leather pants, stripping of the damp pieces, sticky with blood, in order to get a better view of the wound. Despite himself, Squall felt himself tense and blush at her probing. Kayle should have done the surgery in the privacy of the Ragnarok cabin. Risk of infection or not, Kadowaki wasn't known for her gentleness and Rinoa watching made it all the more worse. On top of everything, he now had a migraine. Perfect.
Another involuntary groan escaped his lips.
"This would be a good time for that morphine, perhaps, doctor?" Rinoa suggested, practically reading his mind. "He's been in pain for several hours already."
'Yes. Good Rinoa!'
At this point, he would have kissed her had he the energy.
"Naw, he's been okay" Kayle said, sounding relaxed and casual. "He drank about half a liter of gin before we took off. He's not feeling a thing."
Kadowaki paused her cleaning. Rinoa sucked in her breath. And Kayle stood statue-still, shifting between each of their stunned expressions. Squall tried to laugh, but it came out as a cough instead.
'Oops.'
Kayle was oblivious. "What?"
Kadowaki flung the blood soaked cotton she had been using onto the tiled floor, pulling her mask off her face in order to glare properly at her student. "Am I to understand that you, cadet, gave a critically bleeding patient alcohol as a method of pain-relief?"
Kayle took an apprehensive step backward. "Well…yeah. He was in pain. And Headmistress Trepe insisted that I remove all narcotics from my kit. So I-I snuck some gin aboard in my water bottle."
"Gin?" Rinoa repeated. Squall could feel her grip loosening. "You gave him half a liter of gin? Seriously?" She thought back to the water she had given him back on the Ragnarok, the bottle he had been so desperately reaching for on the night stand. Well, what she had thought was water.
"I was only trying to help."
"By getting your patient, your commander, drunk?" Kadowaki seemed furious. And that woman could be damn scary when she was furious.
"Only a little drunk" Squall helped, holding his two fingers up to symbolize how 'little' it was.
Rinoa stared at him in disbelief. "Well that explains a lot…"
He shrugged in a bored manner, wondering when they'd stop arguing and get this whole disaster over with. His head hurt. He wanted to sleep.
So he was drunk. He'd never been really drunk before. And, short of receiving another bullet wound out in the middle of nowhere lodged in bone with an incomplete medical kit, he never would be again. The kid had only been trying to help.
"N-Not drunk exactly…" Kayle tried, desperately trying to plead his case. "Alcohol is an age-old method of pain-relieving due to its ability to depress the central nervous system, it… "
"Except, dear Kayle, if the alcohol used becomes excessive. And -this is the fun point here- if it is used in conjunction with other pain-killing drugs it is almost guaranteed to damage the stomach lining, the liver, cause ulcers and stomach bleeding. Not to mention, alone, it thins the blood so that it can gush out all the more easily. Explaining why he was continuing to hemorrhage even after your wrapping."
"…Oh."
"Strike two Kayle. Next time you read up on the consequences before experimenting on a patient. You hear me?"
"What? What does this mean?" Rinoa piped in, sounding like she was screaming into his ear. He winced, allowing a small 'shhh' to escape his lips. Hyne she was loud today.
"It means that we're going to have to do this without anesthesia. The old-fashioned way."
"What?" Rinoa gasped. "That'll kill him!"
"Naw. It'll just hurt like hell. And what doesn't kill ya…" she paused for dramatic effect, making some gesture he couldn't see. "You know the rest. Do me a favor and prop him up."
He felt his world moving, gradually inclining forward along with a loud electronic buzz that filled his ear. The bed was being folded so that he could sit up, Rinoa and Kayle both gripping onto his shoulder to help adjust him with the movement.
Kadowaki had finished her cleaning, the scent and sting of the antiseptic suddenly vanishing.
"Hold him still, no matter what." Kayle was saying.
Squall crinkled his brow, eyes still closed. What did they think he would do, run away? Ha!
"You sure we can't just wait till the alcohol wears off and do this?" Rinoa was suggesting.
"Not if we want to prevent infection. He'll risk losing his leg."
"Okay…if it's the only way then."
"Brace yourselves."
It took a while for the words to register, slow as his brain was at the moment, but as soon as they did his eyes popped open, struggling to focus on the blurry shape of the doctor poised above his thigh, a rather large scalpel in hand.
"No! Wait!"
Too late.
Everyone in the entire Garden woke in their beds then, roused from sleep by an inhuman scream. It echoed down the hallways, bouncing of the walls, causing the younger cadets to hug their pillows tighter and ward off the monsters under their bed. And upstairs, in her office, surrounded by the piles of useless items Squall and Rinoa had collected on their excavating project, Quistis' head fell into her hands.
…
"What have I done…?"
Author's Note: I wanted to upload this for you guys on Saturday night so that everyone would have a nice Sunday surprise to leisurely read but, don't know if anyone else noticed, Fanfiction has been a jerk lately…every attempt to login came up with "we're experiencing technical difficulties. Try again in a minute." – a minute which turned into EIGHTY-NINE HOURS! Grrr…
So here it is. This is the second-to-last pre-written chapter before I have to start actually writing from scratch again. Next chapter up next week. Thanks again for your kind reviews and constructive criticism.
