Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character depicted in this story. All rights for the Final Fantasy series are reserved by Square Enix.

Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

And I give you...


Chapter 7

"Both of us were wary and unwilling to trust…"


The moment I regain any semblance of consciousness, the only thing I can describe the moment as is that I feel as if I've been cast down into the pits of hell. Though it's better than where I'd been previously in sleep.

I toss and turn on the mattress, trying to kick free of the suffocating blankets that cling unpleasantly to my sweaty skin- and mostly to keep myself from falling back asleep. Being in that place is frightening; I hate how dark it is.

Flashes of reality and fiction float around my subconscious until, in my feverish state I am unable to differentiate between the two. And yet I cling desperately onto the narrow ledge, fighting the heaviness in my limbs, and exhaustion of the mind.

Inevitably I suppose I should have realized from the start that it was useless. I whimper as I loose the battle and drift out- the exhaustion dragging me down until I fall under the dark spell of sleep…

I am greeted by a never ending wall of black. Thick and oppressive, it swallows my form until I am nothing. It seeps its way into my being and threatens to suffocate the air from my lungs. Instinctively I panic; a natural human reaction to being left alone. However, I will my heart to slow its beats; knowing that beyond this harrowing wall, I am not alone. Sadly calming down isn't an option, for knowing what was to come somehow makes it all the worse.

A little girl trapped in a small, dark enclosure- barely wide enough for her short child-like arms to span outwards. It's too dark to see her face, it's too dark to see anything really, but I know she is not alone.

The one who'd ripped her from her mother's arms is still here. It lurks in the inky blackness. The ragged sound harsh and wheezing in the silence are it's breathes. It wreaks smelling strongly of rotted meat and tinged copper; Scents that bring up memories of death.

The girl gags- not only due to the smell so close to her face, but from lack of breath. Her sobs echo. Her voice is trembling with distress; calling out for her mother- begging her to come save her. Though only calls for her mother leave her mouth, I can hear her desperation for salvation. I can feel her fear in the air. It shakes the core of my being.

Mommy…Mommy Help! Don't let the bad men take me away!

Her cries escalate, breathes becoming shorter and harder, calls over and over again fall from her lips. The sound is slightly muffled because her face is buried against her knees; she seems to have very little regard to the pain her salty tears cause to the open wounds there.

There is noise every where; loud enough that you can barely have a thought in your mind.

It helps drown out the wheezing of the beast beside her.

Inside, there's the sound of sobbing and hissing breath. Outside there are rounds of gunfire, and screams. Every sound echoes inside the prison- ringing so loud it hurts. I raise my shaking hands but fail to muffle the cacophony completely.

It hurts.

Stop it

I'm so scared.

I don't want those bad men to hurt this little girl.

Where's mommy?

Please…Please…!

Then the gunfire halts, and there are no more yells of battle outside this steal cage.

Then a crash sounds; the sound of metal grinding against metal and suddenly there is light suffusing the narrow prison. I jerk my head up in time to see my kidnapper in full view. Twisted limbs, and face half obscured by metal, the monster before me that was once human. I am no longer looking down on the scene, but out of small tear filled eyes. My shrieks of terror at the sight of its serrated fangs rip from deep within, a sound surprisingly loud for such a small body.

The monster snarls, feral in its anger but its attention is not on me. I shriek once more in terror as the beast rushes past; small hands fly up to protect my head. More echoing bangs sound- it's a sound that now at the tender age of eight, I know to be gunfire.

With a shrill cry that borders off into a whine, the beast's snarls stop and silence reigns once more. Footsteps approach, calm and even; and I cower farther into a dark corner. My hands grasp tightly to my bare shins; tiny nails digging into already raw skin. I'm too scared of what awaits outside to look up anymore.

But my light is interrupted by a long shadow and the footsteps halt. Sensing that I am under scrutiny I look up through tear dampened lashes…

I shudder when something cold hits my forehead. I wince and turn my face away only for it to follow. It's uncomfortable and hurts. My entire body aches.

I futilely continue to try escaping the cold, but soon shaking my aching head back and forth becomes too tiresome. It also is increasing the pounding in my temples. So I give up trying to escape and relax, allowing something cold and damp to rest against my feverish forehead.

At the contact, my face stops burning and I sigh shakily as goose bumps break out along my skin. It feels good, actually. Water droplets fall along my temples into my hairline; the droplets warm as they slide along, before meeting at the nap on my neck. I can feel them settle there tickling the skin. I shift restlessly at the ticklish sensation that borders on itching but gentle pressure on my shoulder stills me.

My heart stutters and slams against my ribs as I'm restrained. Even though it's with gentle pressure, Images of blood still flash red behind my closed lids and I suck in air in panic. I can recall how it feels warm against my skin. I can almost smell thick and tangy in the air. God it wreaks. It's strong and coppery; metallic like a penny on you tongue.

A small sob escapes my throat, my body jerking instinctively away from that gently pressure. As I move something silky brushes my cheek, causing my nostrils to flare as I suck in another breathe in surprise at the contact. The smell of copper is replaced with the sweet scent of rain and leather.

The initial panic that had swelled up so quickly, reseeds even faster. My eye lashes flutter under the weight of the slipping towel.

I know this smell.

This smell is safe.

It's warm and gentle. The only person I know who has this smell is…

Desperately I try to garner the strength to open my eyes, but their lids feel like led. I try futilely over and over but it's like my lashes are glued to my cheek bones. My heart aches as I give up.

It doesn't matter I chastise myself even as disappointment settles in. He isn't real after all. I'd only open my eyes to emptiness. It's better not to open them and remove all doubt; cling to your dreams, and all that.

Slowly my tense muscles unclench and I sink into the comforting coolness at my naked back. Afraid he'd disappear if I moved, I lay still slowly inhaling and exhaling as the blankets are tucked around my burning skin and the slipping towel is readjusted.

Just the thought that I was being watched over was comforting enough that soon I drift back to a solid but dreamless sleep.

When I next open my eyes it's to the dim glow of my bedside lamp. I blink blearily up at the ceiling: Once, twice, thrice, until my eyes don't feel as sore. I lay there alone in the dimly lit room with my quilt tucked up around my chin.

Hopefully I move my head, gazing around with my eyes. Searching. Hoping. Slowly I come to realize I am indeed alone.

I exhale gustily and let my eyelids drift back to my cheeks fighting desperately against the feeling of depression and loss that falls over me. I'm not disappointed. I tell my self sternly I already knew I was alone.

If only I didn't have to wake up.

If only my angel were real.

I smile in self deprecation because even if my dreams are terrible nightmares, I'd rather face a million of them to see him, than to face reality alone. It's in these moments that I feel all my losses more acutely.

Mr. Angel, why can't you be real?

A loud thump startles me and I quickly prop myself up on one elbow and turn my head toward the noise. The hope wells up despite my inner caution, but it's only Carrum shuffling through the doorway balancing a pastel pink bowl in his hands. Water sloshes inside the bowl, and ice cubes clink musically as he tries not to spill and walk at the same time.

I stare in confused stupefaction at the boy until he notices I'm awake and smiles shyly.

"I'm glad you awake! You had me worried!"

When did he get here? Better yet why and how did he get here?

I've never told him where I live, and I sure as heck didn't bring him home with me. As these thoughts swirl in my throbbing skull, Carrum abandons his burden next to the table lamp and plops down on the edge of my bed. "You sure slept a long time."

I bat my lids a few times to focus, still propped on one elbow "When…How did you find where I live?"

He lends me a glass of water, and as I accept the glass automatically, I suddenly realize how dry my mouth was. Swollen and achy my tongue keeps sticking to the roof of my mouth. Blanching at the odd sensation I slowly sip at the water and wait for an explanation. "Grandpa told me where you live."

I hand him back the glass and give him a reproachful sigh, correcting him on autopilot,

"Boss isn't that old, it's disrespectful to call him 'Grandpa'." Lifting my hand I brush back my bangs and try to muddle through what was going on it wasn't easy. In fact I couldn't even figure out what felt was wrong if anything at all.

"Anyway, how did you get in?"

"Uncle let me in" The answer was straight and too the point as he fussed with something with utmost concentration.

I let my hand fall from messing with my hair and back to the blanket; watching in confusion as his small but capable hands quickly go about sorting through a bundle of packages. When it doesn't seem as if he has anything to add I feel the need to prod his into continuing "Uncle?"

Uncle? I repeat silently to myself mentally trying to figure out who he could be talking about. Unfortunately my still fading fever appears to be muddling my brain. There shouldn't be anyone who has a key to my house. I never gave one to the boss… Hell I don't even have a spare to hide under an obviously fake rock that someone could steal!

"Yeah, the slightly scary Uncle in a red capey-thing," He makes gestures with his hands around his neck and back "He let me in, and also gave me all these medicines to make you better." He grins at me "He told me to look after you. So I stayed."

As he'd spoken I'd listened with half an ear, not really registering much and had moved to lie down. However when the words finally processed correctly I freeze in the act of laying back down and instead sit bolt upright in bed the covers peeling slowly from my skin.

"What did you just say?" I ask the question weakly, as if in a daze. Eyes wide I stare wonderingly towards the boy.

Carrums face pinkens slightly and he averts his eyes. "Um Auntie…"

I reach out and grasp his shoulder in a gentle hand, forcing him to focus as it seems he's become distracted by something.

"Uncle? In a red coat?" I ask trying to clarify, making sure I hadn't misheard. Suddenly the haze is disappearing from my sluggish brain. It's shocking how quickly one can sober up at the mere mention of a few simple words- Words that send my senses on high alert.

"Yeah, he was a lot taller than me, and had long hair. Kinda like a girl." He makes a face, typical of a boy his age "Why a guy would want to look like a girl by growing their hair out makes no sense."

Long hair, tall, and a red coat- suddenly it all clicked into place.

Mr. Gloomy Gunman.

"He told me to look after you and left." His nose scrunched up "But before that, Auntie…"

My heart literally stopped a moment before I tightened my grip "What do you mean he left? He can't leave! He's still not better!" My voice is bordering on panic but I can't bring myself under control.

How could I have forgotten him? How could I have been so out of it as to let him leave?

Why hadn't I woken up sooner? Damn, Damn, Damn!

Carrum's brow furrowed "Was he unwell? Now that you mention it, he did seem to be walking kinda funny, but I didn't really-"

All traces of lethargy giving way to panic, I roll onto my knees blankets tangling around my waist. Gripping both of his bony frail shoulders, I search his eyes desperately as if they held a hint or clue. Or perhaps I was hoping to find out he was playing a prank on me.

"Where did he go? When did he leave!" My voice has risen in panic and it rings loudly in the room. I wince, realizing I'm practically shouting at the boy, even though not I know it's not his fault. It's not anger I'm feeling now either but something more akin to blind fear. I cant calm down. What if something happens to him?

"I-I don't know." Carrum's face pales a bit before he stutters "I'm s-sorry, should I have stopped him?"

Pull it together, Rio! You're scaring the boy!

My hands are shaking but I brutally reign in my emotions and slowly I force my tone to calm. "You haven't done anything wrong." I assure the boy with a sincere but shaky smile "Now, try to remember. Did you happen to see which way he went when he left?"

There's a brief pause that probably lasted on a few seconds before Carrum's head bobs up and down. It felt like an eternity to me. "Ye-Yeah, he went off towards the Warf; the one that's along the east route."

Hands patting his shoulders in reward I try to coax more information out of him "Good, now about how long ago did he leave?" I silently pray that he hadn't had a chance to make it too far.

Carrum takes a moment to think about it before answering, "About five, tah ten minutes ago."

I throw off the covers and clamor off my bed ignoring the now beat red boy at my side. "Good boy, Carrum" I praise him, ruffling curly locks with my fingers "Now you wait here- Auntie has to fetch back her runaway patient"

"Bu...but…Rio!"

I'm already across my apartment and throwing open the door, not registering that in the boys panic he'd used my given name.

The temperature outside is almost frigid but I don't let that that stop me, attributing it too any lingering fever I had and race down the steps. The cobbled stone is burning my bare feet it's so cold, but I don't have time to turn back for shoes. I have to catch him. Carrum said he was limping, so he can't have gotten very far right?

As I wheel around a corner and stub my toe on a rock I curse and keep jogging.

Why do I feel so desperate? Why am I so scared of him leaving? Is it really only because he's injured? I shake off this thought unwilling to process it further. For now all I need to do is run.

And run I did.

Past an ogling old man taking out his trash, and almost running into metal trash bin; nearly scaring both myself and the cat behind it to death.

I swerved around corners and ducked under waist high fences, knowing, just like any other native of Kalm, the ins and outs of the towns many shortcuts. A thin sheen of sweat is now coating my skin making it feel grimy and making the breeze on my skin feel all the colder.

My feet were practically screaming obscenities at me for forgoing shoes in my rush. I haven't yet paused long enough to look down in check, and I'm too afraid to look down while running lest I trip, but I'm pretty sure they're in bad shape.

If I don't have gashes on my soles from all the rocks I've stepped on, I'll consider today a good day.

Finally the moored boats come into view, singling my arrival at the fishing yard. The elation I feel makes me want to cheer, but at the moment he stitch in my side is making hard just to inhale. The muscles in my thighs and calves are twitching and so I'm forced to check my gait to a much slower speed. Sucking in lungful after lungful of air, pretty sure I must sound like either a dying person, or at least someone who'd been a smoker all their life.

Fortunately it seemed my mad dash though town had paid off. I could see a familiar red clad figure off down the road paralleling the Warf.

"Wait!" I called out after him, coughing when my throat protests. I am wishing more now than ever that I knew his name.

Please hear me!

I pant shallowly as I try and run faster, accomplishing more of a hobble hopping motion than a run.

Please turn around!

Mist swirls around my ankles making it hard to see where my feet will land.

I quickly come to regret my rush.

You see its unfortunate, especially if you're in a hurry, but running along the afore mentioned Warf in bare feet, is a bad idea even on a normal day. So on days like this, when the light swirling foggy air makes the floor barely visible and they're wet from rain is bad.

Now in most stories, people always tell you how these moments last forever; that everything comes down to moving slow motion.

I assure you this is not the case, for my fall progress quiet quickly. More so than I culd react to.

Alls it takes is a wrongly place foot and suddenly my foot is sliding out from under me, and ankle twisting I tip toward the dark waters below.

Shrieking once in surprise my heart stopped and my eyes squeeze shut on instinct a moment before impact. As my back slaps against the top of the water, only one thought is traveling through my otherwise blank mind.

Oh dear…I can't swim…

And then I was swallowed.


TBC...


Okay let me just state that yes that was evil and horrible of me. *dodges any angry glares or pitchforks*

Now that we have gotten all of THAT out of out systems *ahem* There are a few things I'd like to address here.

Before I get any questions about it: In the dream sequence, you'll notice at first Rio is talking about the little girl to suddenly being the little girl. Yes I did that on purpose. No, it wasnt an accident or error. She's wavering between being herself and the little girl. Though it's my hope that you weren't confused to start with, I also hope this clears any confusion felt.

So let me just add that this chapter is totally unedited, and I think it's also horribly short. Which brought me to post a poll on my profile, on a side note so that I can hear popular opinion. *nudges meaningfully*

Though editing wont really make a difference on the length, it makes a big difference on how long it takes to update. Which is why I'm giving this chapter to you in its wonderfully unpolished state because I am sicker than a dog and feel bad making you all wait any longer on the chapter because I've been sleeping 14 hours a day and thus haven't proof read. Especially since a bunch of you listened to my emo-tastic sounding whining last chapter for a review! lol (Which means yes it's been tentively done for a few days)

This reminds me that I have a special thing to say: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, and Alert adds! It made me so wonderfully happy! Its one thing to see your hit counter going up, and actually hearing from people!

Anyways! Enough of my ramblings!

Hope you all enjoyed it, and remember:

Reviews fuel an Authors love for writing! ; )