Key:Denotes GF speak
Chapter 11
The drugs, hugs and decisions Pt 2
-Damn. Damn damnity damn damn damn, - Seifer hated this, -you save someone's life and they throw you in the brig for it.-
The room was small, in fact no it was more than small. It was claustrophobic. Not that Seifer suffered from this ailment of course, but still sitting in a small grey room mostly taken up with one long chair and a table was enough to turn anyone.
The "brig" was only about nine feet long and five wide, most of the room being taken up by the seat and the table. There was no window to the outside and the rolling ocean to pass the time or even dim the sense of the room's boxiness. It was as if he really was in prison, the stale air of the little used storage space, or whatever it was, reminding him of something he couldn't quite place. Yet, he had never been to prison before, and the Garden's detention facility was much more amiable than this temporary holding bay. So, he decided he must just really be claustrophobic or something like that because his head wasn't really agreeing with being this closely confined.
-Gees, I really am some sort of wuss aren't I? The rooms big enough for six me's.-
"Ah hell," Seifer sighed, stretching back to lie out flat on the long cushioned seat, "I'm never gonna pass this exam…"
But that's not the real reason you are feeling this way, is it?
Seifer started, annoyed at the interruption. The Ifrit GF's voice was calm and kind, a stark contrast to its outward appearance. Seifer scrunched up his face, never happy to have his junctioned weapons popping up into his consciousness to say hello. In fact, it really pissed him off…
"Oh yeah? Who asked you?" he said back sourly, throwing his arm up over his eyes to shield them from the stark ceiling light, "you're expert area is pulverising not psychology, so give it a rest."
I can see your mind, I can read your feelings,the GF continued, a detached voice floating through his psyche, you feel for him do you not?
"I am really, really not having this conversation with you," Seifer groaned out loud, rolling onto his side as if to hide himself from the GF's probing.
I am merely observi…
"Ah!" Seifer warned, holding up a finger to the cracked ceiling as if he were pointing to the real GF to silence him, "what did I just say?"
It was almost comical when the silence was accompanied by an unsure feeling.
"Thank you, thank you very much," Seifer groused, shaking his head to settle his thoughts once more, the GF having distorted his natural train of thought.
Seifer hated the fact that they could talk to him, wishing more than anything that he had a nice low level GF to contend with. The GF's, once junctioned, were usually content to remain quiet and discreet, surfacing only when called upon. However, in times of stress and fatigue a GF can surface into its host's conscious mind, sometimes against its own will. This is usually just a side effect of the host's willpower to keep the GF in place and the creature will normally just wait until its host has calmed down and regained their strength of will to keep it down at the subconscious level. However, stronger GF's, such as those attained whilst on the SeeD final year assessment, tend to be more sentient, aware and knowledgeable than the low level GF's and could therefore speak to their hosts. Sometimes, it has been reported, and as in Seifer's case, GF's of a high enough intelligence can even try to comfort their hosts themselves so as to be able to return to their junctioned state more quickly. Seifer, however, was in no mood to be comforted.
He turned over onto his back once more, wriggling against the cushions to get comfortable, but thiw cushion had other plans, staying as rigid as possible while Seifer tried his hardest to mould it to his body. It didn't comply, becoming lumpy and uncomfortable instead. Seifer groaned, sitting back up once more and snorting in anger. They could have at least given him a comfy seat. Yet, in the bigger scale of things, the comfort of his ride home was the least of Seifer's worries. Number one on his list, well, he would give you three guesses.
-He's about five eight, eyes made of miniature glaciers and his conversations consist mostly of "whatever".-
The thought just made Seifer groan even more, his reprimand from Garden suddenly seeming like a molehill compared to the mountain of crap that he was in with Squall. Before he could finish his thought however the bulky grey door flew open with the ease of plywood and grated against the wall noisily. The reason for its seeming mistreatment was revealed under the harsh light; Xu.
"He wants to see you, and don't ask me why because I don't know. You have five minutes with him and if you do a single thing untoward I will be bearing down on you like a Grendel with bloodlust fever. Do we understand each other?"
Seifer just sat up and blinked, more than a little confused by Xu's seemingly, considering the circumstances, generous behaviour. She just glared at him from the doorway, the large recess framing her deceptively delicate frame. Her eyes blazed as he kept on staring, the hands on her hips tightening into the fabric.
"Didn't you hear me Almasy, are you deaf?" she spat, thrusting her shoulder's forward and bulking up her height in aggravation, "Don't try me, I asked you a question. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," Seifer replied whilst swinging himself gracefully from the makeshift bed.
"Good," Xu snapped, "now get the hell out of here before I change my mind."
Seifer stood, walking slowly towards the doorway and out into the blessedly dimmer corridor, wanting nothing more than to get in one last quip, one measly sarcastic comment. However, the blonde wasn't that dumb. Xu would change her mind alright, probably to a scenario that contained Seifer and the emergency escape hatch and a swift introduction of the two. Seifer did enjoy biting the had that fed him, but when it offered up such a special treat he tended to make exceptions…
-And so he's a treat now is he? – Seifer mused as he walked towards the dull grey door of the med bay, matching the dull grey corridor, -well, I guess in some ways…-
In some ways the GF had been right. Seifer has been trying to forget his feelings. The when that didn't work he'd tried to destroy them, first with hatred, then with lust…but neither had worked. He'd thought that maybe…maybe if he hurt Squall, hurt him badly enough, coldly, maliciously enough, that Squall would hate him beyond repair. Yet, it just hadn't worked out the way he had planned it. Squall just…stayed the same as he had always been, seemingly brushing it off as a fight that went too far and nothing more. He may well have been cursing Seifer's name to Hyne underneath that cool exterior, but Seifer was none the wiser to it. The brunette still liked him; this mission had shown that well enough. It was both a revelation and a remembrance of past pain to Seifer. It conjured up hazy memories, memories that Seifer, however desperate he was to remember them, had the distinct feeling should be left alone.
Squall talked to him, he looked at him with more than just icy disinterest in his eyes, he shared things with him that Seifer was sure that he would share with no one else like it was meant to be that way. His hazy memories continued to back up his desperate theory whilst playing over in his mind.
-Friends?-
-Is that what you want to be?-
That damned dream still haunting him! Hell, it was just living bloody testimony to the feelings he couldn't rid himself of.
The violence, now that his dream had entered the equation again, had probably been going on for quite a long time. Seifer had been being unnecessarily mean and superior to Squall since, well, before any of them could remember clearly. He knew about his own thoughts and feelings in the present (or at least that's what he kept telling himself) but what had they been back then? Had they been more complicated? Could he use the past as a justification when he didn't even know the motives behind his actions? Seifer just sighed, disheartened that his mind had chosen this time of all times to run off while he wasn't looking. Well, one thing he could figure out without use of higher mental powers…the violence hadn't worked. Squall wasn't dismissing him, wasn't pushing him away just as he should have been if everything had gone to plan. So he had decided to change the rules and use a less impressively tactile weapon against his feelings than raw rage.
Lust.
He'd thought, just maybe there was the slight chance, that if he thought of Squall like that, like nothing but an attractive figure, that he could cheapen what he felt for him. This plan had also backfired miserably. Every time the blonde pictured himself in more than compromising situations with the brunette he found it impossible to summon up that detachment he so prided himself on. Seifer had always found detachment a handy tool when premeditating a one night stand, or dealing with feelings that had no right to be within one hundred feet of his person. Yet, with Squall, this particularly handy aspect of his personality seemed to up and hop it; just like his mind had done to him not too long ago. Whenever he imagined himself and Squall together the caresses were tender, not lustful, and the kisses deep and passionate, not needful he just…couldn't tarnish it; that wonderful bane of a feeling.
Seifer shrugged off his feelings as he reached slowly out for the door handle as if it were going to bite him. This, he decided, was not the way to start a completely brash and unconcerned entrance. He needed to be himself, or more precisely be the individual that he had led Squall to believe he was.
As Seifer turned the door handle, he wondered how long he'd been fooling himself that he was that individual, as well as Squall.