Author Notes: Sorry to keep you all waiting. I've read all the reviews and will get to replying to them shortly. But just want to thank everyone for reviewing and supporting this fic, even though it's at a snail pace and the suspense is killing some of you. I have to say writing first person perspective was difficult to get into, I've gone back to third person for my post-game fics and haven't actually written with this style in a while. So apologies if it's a little rusty. Good thing is that I've already completed chapter 10 too. Just need to get it beta'd.
This story will be a little longer than my usual AUs, I think The Set Up is currently my longest fic at 23 chapters, but this will definitely exceed that. As will the post-games once they catch up. Hint, hint!
I haven't done shout-outs in such a long time! So to those of you who reviewed: rebirth-flame, Spede, Kitsune8757, effect20, toughestcookie, MonMonCandie (...bye *runs*), Naya Angel-Wings Heartilly, gleamfang, The Strike Freedom, Trev James, cheezelicker (cool name bro :P), xAshbellax and Destiny-N thank you so much and hope you all like this chapter.
P.s. Thanks to Jebus Criess for beta'ing this chapter and the last one too, I think.
Chapter 9 - Cut All Ties
I sat in the living room watching Lance's frail body limply seated in the arm chair opposite me. His eyes were cast downwards, probably deep in his thoughts, his dark, stubbled face almost expressionless. I say almost; his eyes gave away too much emotion. Among the pools of murky green, there were specks of hurt and loneliness. I'm probably speaking complete BS but the guy looked liked he was suffering emotionally.
I swallowed a nervous gulp, my mouth drying up as I tried in vain not to make eye contact, but it was harder to avoid. His sullen eyes made him look lifeless, displaced, almost as if he were a hobbit without his precious ring. I think that was the best I could described him. He just looked like a lost kid who'd had something taken from him. It was then that I realised what it was. His freedom.
From where we were sitting, I could hear Dad move around in the Kitchen making some hot beverages. I wanted to get up and help, really because I wanted to avoid being in this awkward silent vigil any longer. There really was nothing else to keep me preoccupied apart from Lance and his masked sadness. If I wasn't so scared of the guy I would have asked what was wrong, but I assumed it had something to do with the whole wanted-for-murder thing.
Eventually Dad walked into the living room with a tray of drinks and a plate of biscuits. He handed each of us our drinks, sat next to me and sipped his tea quickly, before clearing his throat and setting his cup down.
"Right," he said, looking between me and Lance, "it's about time that I was honest with you."
"Please." I gave Dad an irritated look, why on earth was he keeping secrets from me?
Taking a shaky breath, Dad looked over to Lance briefly as the other man slowly lifted his gaze, yet not directly looking at either of us. A split second passed between them, until Lance finally looked at Dad and nodded what seemed like an approval of some sort. I gathered that it may have been towards educating me on his situation.
My eyes darted between them eagerly not wanting to miss any hidden exchange between the two men. Once my eyes settled on Dad, he turned to me, overcome with an expression of fatigue, scanning over my face before smiling pensively.
"I want you to know that the things I am about to tell you was never brought to your ears solely because I love you." His comment was quite unexpected, I stared back at him, surprisingly dumbfounded. Before I could find my voice to even give a reply, he continued on. "Lance and I worked together twenty-odd years ago. It was before I met your mother. We were in the Galbadian Army with a number of people that currently hold very high positions around the world."
Dad paused, waiting to see if I was keeping up with him. I had been silent for a while but in all honestly, I really didn't know what to say. I nodded my head to indicate that I was following every word so he soon continued, this time looking at Lance's stiff body as he addressed me.
"Among our platoon was Kiros Seagill; he now works as an Aide to the President of Esthar. Ward Zabac, also an Aide to the President of Esthar and Laguna Loire, the former President of Esthar."
My eyes widened in disbelief as soon as I heard the last name. It seemed pretty odd that Dad had never mentioned working alongside the Estharian President all the while living in his home. Well, his previous home. Now that had me wondering, was Dad even aware of the previous tenants?
"President Loire committed suicide." My words weren't meant to be so curt or without feeling, it was the first time I had spoken in a few minutes, but even so Lance finally broke from his trance and looked at me with frowning eyes.
"No." Dad sighed, running a hand over his face, and picked his tea cup up again. "Laguna Loire would not commit suicide; he's a strong man."
"So what are you saying?" I asked with a frown equalling that of Lance's.
"I'm saying . . ." Dad paused, looking down at the carpet with a huff. I waited with bated breath for him to continue as the seconds dragged on. Times like these I wished there was a remote control I could use on Dad to fast-forward his speech. All this waiting around was killing my patience. "Laguna Loire is dead. But he didn't kill himself."
"I-I . . . I don't get it." I furrowed my eyebrows at him, my face a mixture of pained confusion. None of this made sense! "Was he murdered?" Again, not intentional, but I couldn't help the squeakiness that laced my question.
"No."
Dad's answer was so short and to the point, it was annoying me that he wouldn't elaborate. He had said he was going to tell me the truth but I suspected he was still keeping the full story to himself. I felt like he was handing me a few tiny stray pieces to a gigantic puzzle, yet none of them were connecting. There was so many gaps in his words, so many ambiguous answers that did nothing to aid in my understanding. In fact, it just confused me even more so than before.
"Dad, you're going to have to give me more of an answer," I replied in anguish.
"Laguna wasn't murdered. But soon enough, the world will think he was."
"And why would they think that?" I asked, calming myself of wanting to shake him. Did I seriously need to bottle feed him questions?
"Because they have a tape recording of Lance here, arguing with him. Almost threatening him, if you will." Dad sipped his tea so coolly when replying I felt like whacking it out of his hands. Seriously what the freaking hell!
"And . . . what?" My words choked at my throat. No, in fact my words choked in my head. I couldn't even produce an intelligent thought let alone articulate a sentence. This entire scenario had more holes than a bloody colander.
I stood up with such force, nearly knocking the cushions off the sofa as I looked down at Dad with anger. My blood pressure was rising, I could feel sweat spots start to dampen and my face was definitely flushed red.
"Will you just tell me what's going on without being so vague!" I barked, my arms flailing between us for emphasis.
Dad leaned against the back rest of the sofa, his face not showing any signs of emotion to my little outburst. He folded his arms and looked at me defiantly before finally opting to speak. "I will only tell you what you need to know."
"But you're not making any sense. What does working with Laguna Loire have to do with this dude?" I pointed an angry finger at Lance who recoiled into himself, lowering his gaze back to the safety of the carpet.
"Lance is an innocent man. Laguna Loire is dead. I don't see why that doesn't make sense to you. If this is hard for you to fathom then I obviously haven't sent you to the right schools."
I scowled at Dad for that, he could be a right old jerk when he wanted to be. I folded my own arms stubbornly and looked down at him in disdain; sometimes my father and I were a lot alike.
"What does all this murder crap have to do with Lance? Big deal he was arguing with Laguna Loire, doesn't mean he killed him."
"Well thank you for shedding some intelligent thought on that aspect. Unfortunately, a brawl broke out between Lance and Laguna in his office. There is blood stained on the carpet and Lance's DNA planted all over the 'murder weapon'," Dad casually answered.
My mouth flung open as I stared at him in shock. Was he for real? I snuck a glance at Lance to see any traces of Dad toying with me, but from the other man's brooding expression I could tell this was no joke.
Suddenly, I wasn't so keen on learning anymore. This was just way too much information for me to digest. A man was hiding in my basement, I just wanted to know what he was doing there, I didn't expect to be told of his involvement in a murder. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Here I was trying to play Detective and investigate into the lives of Loire family, instead I found myself right in the middle of a bizarre soap opera.
"Did he-"
Before I could even finish my question Dad had already answered it. "Lance didn't kill him. No one killed Laguna."
"Fury . . ." Lance whispered. My head whipped to my side, staring at him in surprise. I only just registered that he hadn't in fact spoken since he entered this house. Well, since I found him. For someone with such a rough exterior, his voice was so delicately soft.
Dad turned his body to face Lance directly, smiling at him and encouraging him to go ahead and speak.
"I . . . I'm tired." Lance's words seemed to be a hidden signal for them both as Dad immediately got up and held out a hand. The other man gratefully accepted it, using it to heave himself off the couch and take timid steps around me to get to the door.
My arms dropped to my sides as I watched both men walk out of the living room without another word, leaving me completely alone and even more utterly confused.
A minute or so passed as I stood there with my mouth agape and my mind swirling in a whirlwind of emotions and bewildered thoughts. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to think, heck I didn't even know how to feel.
When I first came here, I was under the impression that we were a semi-normal family, looking to make a fresh start. Now I was the daughter to a man I wasn't so sure I knew. There was just too many secrets, too many vague answers that only indicated how little he trusted me. Maybe in a way he was still trying to protect me, but protecting me from what?
Standing in the middle of the living room floor, all I knew was that today was not an insightful evening, but one which threw my life into another round of questioning. Only, I wasn't so eager to find out the answers. If Dad was being selective in what he told me, maybe it was best I didn't enquire too much into it.
Since Lance headed back into the basement and Dad went into his makeshift office in the back part of our dining room, I headed on upstairs and lay on my bed for an hour.
My mind wandered down the million paths surrounding Lance, Dad, President Loire and this entire murder plot. And when I wasn't thinking of that I was thinking about Squall.
All right, it sounds pretty nasty, but man was I depressed about him. It was weird but the death of his father was affecting me even more. In one sense I was just upset that Squall lost his entire family in the space of a year, but another was morbidly relieved? That probably wasn't the right feeling, but I just thought to myself that maybe Squall and his father were reunited? I guess that doesn't make much sense since once they find Laguna's body, they'll both be in their graves.
"Aghh!" I grunted into my pillow, shoving my face into the fluffy duck-feathered bundle in my hands.
I had to stop thinking. I had to stop daydreaming about Squall. The guy was dead. Yes, I got a peep into his life, I got to see how much of a hunk he was, but he was dead. Gone. Finished. This was not healthy. Sane people don't mourn over the loss of a person they hardly knew. It wasn't even like he was some celebrity that I had a major crush on and his death negated all my hopes and dreams of ever meeting him. I found out about his life after his death; sure the knowledge of his death came way after. But, I didn't know of him when he was alive. So why was I so caught up over him?
Grabbing my phone off my desk, I searched for Nida's number and called him. I guess my boyfriend could come in handy at times like this.
"Hey Nida," I greeted him, trying to sound cheerful but failing to do so as my voice just squeaked out.
"Hiya! How's it going?" How on earth did Nida always sound so jovial? Was his house made of cotton candy? Did he mum bake cookies all the time? Did he lay on a bed of rainbows and star dust? Damn, jealous of my own boyfriend.
"I'm all right, what are you up to?" I asked, sounding bored.
"Oh just finishing off some homework." What the fishcake? He was doing homework and he was this happy?
"What was it on? Sex education?" I laughed.
"What?" Nida asked humorously.
Ah crap! "I-uh . . . er, nothing." I got up from my bed and sat at the edge of my mattress, biting my bottom lip for my blunder.
"You're weird. You know that, right?"
"Or so you tell me. No I was just er, bored and wanted to see what you were doing."
"Well I'm pretty much done now. If you're bored I could come over?" Nida asked eagerly.
Pushing back strands of hair behind my ears, I thought over his invitation. There was no way I could invite Nida here when Lance was hiding in the basement. What if they both saw each other? I mean, I know Lance isn't a killer, but just in case.
"How about we go out?" I suggested.
An hour later, Nida and I walked into Mega Flare Burger among the busy high-school teens all out for probably the same reason. While I got changed and waited for Nida's arrival, he had called some of our other friends and requested they meet us at the Mall.
Nida held my hand and guided me to a booth at the back of the restaurant where Xu, Sarah and Joker currently sat. Sarah spotted us immediately and waved at Nida, while I smiled back shyly.
"Hey," Nida greeted them, scooting closer to Joker so I could sit down at the end of the booth. As usual, Nida did his typical boyfriend routine and rested one arm over my shoulder, it didn't bother me so I let him.
"You guys ordered?" I asked. I was quite hungry since I hadn't actually had that onion-and-garlic dip, the kitchen floor pretty much devoured that.
"No, we thought we'd wait for you, but someone already had a cheeseburger even before we got here." Xu gave Joker a knowing look, causing the boy to look all over the restaurant, avoiding eye contact with the brunette.
I let out a giggle, poor Joker, always the hungry one. I turned to ask Nida what he wanted to eat, taking his arm off my shoulder and picking up my purse.
"Oh, I'll get it."
"No, I'll order, just tell me what you want." I got off the seat, memorising Nida's order.
"I'll come with you." Sarah got off the other end of the booth, taking Xu's request and walked over to the counter with me.
I didn't really know Sarah much, I hadn't been at school that long to get to know the entire group. At times it felt like every day a new person was eating lunch at Nida's table. They were quite a popular group, very into academia, politics . . . mushrooms. (Weirdos.) Sometimes I felt really out of place.
Sarah smiled at me so I nervously smiled back. This was so awkward. I spent about five minutes in the long queue trying to think up a conversation. I wasn't really into TV or celebrities to even ask her about her interest in TV shows. Asking about school was out of the question and I would not invite her to exchange family details. My current domestic lifestyle was hardly normal. Me, Dad and the guy who lives in our basement . . . yeah, who might have killed someone . . . who just happens to be the former President of freaking Esthar.
Well, it wasn't long before we were finally at the front of the queue, although whoever was in charge of our line was nowhere to be seen. I rested my arm on the counter, tapping my purse impatiently when suddenly blond spiky hair popped up right in front of me. I inhaled in shock, looking at an all familiar face, blues eyes and black tattoo in addition.
"Zell," I heard Sarah's voice next to me in surprise.
"Hi," Zell uttered, looking at both of us expectantly.
"You work here?" Sarah asked. Well, duh. I highly doubt he just walked in and pulled on a black shirt, with the letters MFB between two burger buns and flames in the background, and started serving customers. Although, I was tempted to do just that looking at the delayed service and masses of waiting customers.
"Ah yeah, started this week actually." Zell explained his situation while sheepishly smiling at me. "So, what can I get you?"
"I'll have two Flare Burger meals please, no onions." I requested my order, stepping back slightly and watched as Sarah placed hers.
Zell tapped away at the service panel before turning around and placing our food on a tray. While our fries were being fried, he took our money and handed back our change. The entire exchange between us was in complete silence. At first I thought he was avoiding any friendly banter because of my presence; it was only when we said our thanks, Zell blatantly avoiding looking at Sarah, that I started doubting my suspicions.
"Agh, can you believe him?" Sarah asked next to me as we carefully walked back to our table.
"Huh?"
I stared at Sarah's brown doe eyes, irritation and hurt swimming as she blinked back tears. "That guy that served us." She sniffed before continuing, "We dated last year, now he acts like I'm a complete stranger."
"Oh." I didn't know what to say, not that I could say anything on the matter. I don't believe telling her that the entire group was keeping some weird secret away from the world would leave me looking innocent. I did only arrive here not nearly a month ago; talking about Zell, Squall and the others would only arise question-marks in my direction.
"Yeah, I mean I'm so over him . . . well . . . yeah, yeah I am!" For someone who was over him, I could so tell she wasn't. "I just wish he could have at least kept a civil relationship with me. He just pretends that he doesn't know me. Do you understand?"
"Ah, yeah," I answered quickly, surprised by the direction question. "I guess, some people just don't . . . you know . . ." Sarah stared at me peculiarly, as with difficulty I tried answering her. "Some people just prefer to cut all ties when relationships don't work out."
That was the best I could give. Take it or leave it.
We approached our table by that time so Sarah dropped the conversation, though not the subject entirely. Several times throughout dinner I caught her looking over to the service counter, presumably at Zell. I would have turned around to prove that theory, but knew it would only alert the others about our discussion involving Zell. For some reason, even I didn't want the others knowing anything more about the Fated Children.
I guess it all boiled down to Squall. After learning of his death and doing my own research into his family, I felt that telling Nida and the others about it would dishonour his memory. Sure I was honestly and truly still intrigued by the group, who wouldn't be? But I wasn't the type to publicise their activities and secrets - not that I knew what they were. If they wanted to keep to themselves, who was I to start arranging pool parties and truth or dare?
Besides, apart from indirectly letting the Fated Children know about my knowledge of Squall, no one else had even the slightest knowledge of my interest in him; I wanted to keep that secret to myself.
I never got to meet Squall, every one else save Nida did, so it was only natural I wanted his diary to be something that only I had access to.
I got home by ten o'clock, saying goodbye to Nida in his car and giving the old, 'Dad won't be too happy if he sees you hanging by the door on a school-night' excuse. Once I entered the house I slipped off my trainers by the coat rack and hung up my jacket. It was only when my eyes fell towards the direction of the kitchen I remembered dear old Lance. For the few hours I spent with my friends I'd completely forgot about him.
As I stood there looking towards the end of the house I wondered if Lance had anything to eat? Decided that I'd ask Dad if Lance wanted me to make him a sandwich or maybe some hot cocoa before bed, I headed in the direction of the dining room. The light was turned on and the door was opened a crack. I placed my hand on the door to open it fully when I heard Dad on the phone. I thought it best not to bother him, not that he'd answer me, Dad was one of those mono-task guys that couldn't provide a basic nod to your questions while engaged in a conversation with someone else.
About to walk away, I stopped in my tracks when I heard Lance's name. Now, other than that one night I eavesdropped on him and Martine, I normally didn't care to know about my father's business. But what with all the recent events going on, this was hard not to prod into.
I remained absolutely still, holding my breath and breathing through my nose quietly as I listened to the conversation anxiously.
"… I can assure you he'd have no involvement . . . well. . . . I understand." Dad coughed and rustled in his seat. I moved my head closer to the door and peered one eye through the slit to get a look at him walking around the dining room, phone in hand.
"Oh come now Deling, you think Walters would be capable of murder?" Dad paused in front of the dining table and straightened his back. "Murder weapon? I-I. . . . Dear Lord. . . . Of course. Deling, you and I have known each other for years, I still can't show enough gratitude for your support when Julia died. . . . No-no, one day I will repay you for it," Dad continued on. "I promise."
"All right, well if Walters tries to get in touch with me you'll be the first to know, though I doubt it. He knows I have links with you so will try to avoid me at all costs, he knows where my loyalty lies." Dad walked towards the front end of the dining table and sat down, shuffling about papers and shoving them into the safe at the back.
"Heh. Please, people need to know that Galbadia is just as powerful as Esthar. Let them try anything. . . . Ah well, I can try. . . . I'm not sure, Kramer can be an obnoxious prick when he wants to be. . . . I'll try- no, no that's not necessary. . . . Sure, I'll arrange something next week then."
I craned my neck trying to get a better look when I heard movement in the kitchen. Darting my eyes, I saw Lance standing in front of the basement door watching me silently. It spooked me to see him stare at me so intently, I almost jumped in surprise. He looked quite aloof standing there, lost and confused, and almost amused that I was spying on my Dad.
Not wanting him to observe me any longer or get caught by Dad, I backed away slowly, keeping my eyes on Lance until I reached the staircase and quietly crept up. Once I got to my room I shut my door and leant against it. I inhaled a deep breath, releasing it slowly, and closed my eyes.
This was all too much. I wasn't very good with politics, the only murder crimes I was ever involved in was the weekly CSI: Esthar on OWL, and as far as my knowledge of cults and gangs went, well I was seriously failing that subject.
It amazed me how only a month or so I was living a semi-normal life in Deling City. I had a temporary boyfriend, well if I could call Zone that, he really was just a friend, I had friends who bothered me to no end about coming out on the weekends. I complained about homework, I complained about household chores, I complained about Dad forcing me to eat boiled eggs after coming off my period - seriously that one lacks so much shame, how does Dad even know when I have my period?
Balamb was so utterly a turnaround. I wasn't living a normal life; sure Nida had replaced Zone, but homework was now replaced with Seifer, household chores was replaced with a potential murderer living in my basement and my Dad? I didn't even know who he was anymore. General Fury Caraway? More like Furious Mobster Boss.
I slumped down against my door and pulled my knees up to my chest. So many questions kept running across my mind, every incident swirling in my head and clouding my thoughts until my brain felt like it was about to implode.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to grab every single person involved in these current affairs in one room, including Squall's decaying body, and demand some answers. But that would probably only confuse me even more if it was on a need-to-know basis. Dad seriously could be a jerk some times.
I shook my head, dumping my forehead onto my knees, and sighed to myself. All this drama started from Squall's diary.
When all this was over, if it ever would be over, I was seriously going to have a heart attack.
Author's End Note: effect20 quote woot woot!
Edit: Came back to fix those darn ellipses. Don't you hate learning new tricks only to realise you now have to go back and fix all those mistakes? Darn, English degree!
