Chapter Twelve: Defining the Lines
He never liked the stagnant feel of a doctor's office or the ambient stench of death. Even after all these years, his opinion never waned. It didn't matter how many times he had visited the infirmary in Balamb, Zell Dincht would never allow his mind to grow used to it. Maybe it was because there was always a sense of finality in the air. He had seen too many lives end before their rightful years.
But here again he sat, and here again, he found himself praying to whatever deity would listen to his plea. This wasn't about him anymore. His injury, in his mind, was nothing more than superficial. It didn't mean his wound didn't hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, because it most certainly did. He just knew the bullet, that had briefly resided in his arm, had not been life threatening. He only wished he could say the same thing about his friend…
"Sit still, if you keep moving this is just going to take longer." A middle-aged woman was trying her best to mask the irritation. Her patient was far from cooperating. She had been the first resident doctor to come in after the scheduled shift change, therefore she found herself assigned to the care of Mr. Dincht.
Zell grunted under his breath, this was starting to drift into the absurd. They hadn't told him anything. Nothing. This place was barely even large enough to consider a hospital at all. It was more like an over grown doctor's office with a small gift shop. He had been there almost two hours and they were now attending to his wound. Thankfully when he first arrived, a nurse had treated him via triage in the Emergency Room. At least it sufficed until a qualified doctor could examine his injury thoroughly.
He was never upset by the lack of medical attention. In fact, he knew that all of the available personnel were in there trying to save his best friend's life. He wouldn't have had it any other way. He truthfully didn't care that all they had done for him to this point was given him a stiff shot of morphine. It at least had taken the edge off of the physical pain; his current mental state was another matter. The paramedics had also instructed him to apply direct pressure, though his wrapped makeshift bandages had done a semi decent job of that.
Now a slightly irritated female doctor was attempting to tend to his wounds. Normally he would have been completely cooperative, a little on the fidgety side, but still cooperative. Somehow under these circumstances, he felt the need to interrogate her for information, rather than be a helpful patient. God did he wish Dr. Kadowaki was here, at least it would be a familiar face and she would have told him something by now. Then again, if she had been here, he would have also wanted her at Squall's side. He just felt so confused and alone right now; he couldn't even begin imagining how the commander felt. That was… if the commander could feel anything.
"I said please sit still. You're just making this harder on yourself then it need be."
The martial artist winched as he saw the end of a metallic instrument making its way to the vicinity of his wound. He didn't watch as the doctor worked on… well, whatever the hell she was working on right now.
"Please Dr. Vandermere, you have to – just talk to one of the surgical nurses. I'm sure they'll know something. Just ask one of 'em real quick… it will only take half a second."
"Mr. Dincht," she began with more forcefulness then the last two times he had asked the same favor. "The surgical staff has a job to do, just as I do. And currently I'm unsuccessfully attempting to cut some of your dead tissue away. It helps the healing process. Though, right now, that's a lot easier for me to say than to actually do… If you keep moving around this much, neither of us are going to be leaving our spots for a very long time." Her tone softened and she paused long enough to make brief eye contact with him.
"Listen, I do understand the concern you're feeling. The problem is - if I walk into operating room right now, I would be in the way. I could very well be compromising your friend's life and I know that would be the last thing you want. We all play certain roles around here and we can't afford to differ from them for a reason. If the lead surgeon believes he has progress to report, he'll send someone out. Until then, let them do their job… and I'll do mine."
He sighed. There was just something about the uncertainty that he hated. Of course, he could not have named one person in his life who liked uncertainty, at least one sane person. This was not supposed to happen; it felt as if one of his worst nightmares was coming to fruition. Squall was supposed to be the indestructible one; then again everyone had their weakness. It was just hard to watch a hero such as Squall fall in his eyes. The commander had fought back after so many hardships. All the tragedy in the man's life seemed to be so damned unnecessary.
"I'm sorry," he exhaled slowly still avoiding watching the actual procedure taking place. It wasn't that he was squeamish around blood and gore - he was a damn mercenary for God's sake. He just didn't need anything else to process in his mind right now.
"Don't apologize. Just remain still so I finish this." The doctor placed her scalpel down on a tray, immediately reaching over to a nearby nurse for supplies. Zell could tell some sort of antibiotic or medicine was being applied on his shoulder, before the doctor started to carefully dress the wounds.
"Mr. Dincht, I'm going to put on some dry dressing on your shoulder. You'll need to leave these on for about a day or so. We'll have someone here to regularly check your progress. Once we get a better look tomorrow, we may need to repeat this process. You're lucky yours was a through and through. Really for a high velocity shot, you're very damn lucky there wasn't more tearing."
"Yeah, lucky," he repeated under his breath. How in the hell could he be considered lucky? He would have given anything to trade places with the man lying on the operating table right now.
He just wished he'd be given that opportunity sometime in the many years to come.
"No way." Rinoa bit her lower lip, trying to hide the hint of a smile that was daring to shine through. She would have laughed foolishly in a different time and circumstance. Now, instead, she was only fighting back the mere notion of a full-fledged smile.
"Yes – way... I'm very serious." Zone placed his right hand over his heart before tracing an imaginary 'X' on his chest. "Cross my heart, Rinoa. I'm telling you the honest truth. Ask Watts, he'll verify it. That is if he isn't too embarrassed by the whole thing."
"You never told me. No one ever told me that story." She looked down, confident that her smile would remain buried. Now she wore an expression that was a mixture of sadness and confusion.
"Well, it's not something someone goes around telling the entire free world. Plus it's not like it comes up in casual conversation. At least I certainly hope it doesn't."
"Well, I've had several odd conversations in the past… but nothing about two grown men dressing up as a large yellow bird. I really hope you guys got whatever information you needed out of that. Still, I would have paid good Gil to see you two undercover in a Chocobo costume. I just want to know - how both of you managed to remain standing on only two legs? Or then again, maybe I'm better off not knowing the full details."
She tried to joke, even though it was forced. Maybe Zone wouldn't notice, or maybe he would be too much of a gentleman to say anything even if he did. Her body might have been walking down a puddle ridden street in Timber, but her mind, and her heart, laid somewhere else.
For a long time, she had been doing so much better. But the last two months seemed nothing more than a terrible step in regression. The independence, the confidence, everything she had built over the last years seemed a rather distant memory. Still she understood her failures, even the ones she solely placed on herself. How could she let herself become so attached to another person? She above all people should have known better – you can never predict the future, right? Maybe it was time she heeded her own advice.
Tonight had been the worst in years. Then again even back then, she had never experienced anything close to this level of dementia. She was hearing voices and seeing things that really weren't there. She wanted the fresh air to clear her mind; instead all she was doing was making herself fall back into a deeper state of confusion. Her mind was clouded and foggy and she felt as if she couldn't even focus on a simple conversation. It had been this way most of the evening, but she had fought through most of her weaker moments rather valiantly – until now.
"I should have come back to you sooner... I promised, didn't I?"
Rinoa spoke the words, but they didn't feel as if they were her own. Of course the words were hers - they were coming from her own mouth. She just had not thought about saying them beforehand. They just sort of slipped out without conscious thought. She always had a way of speaking her mind, maybe this time, her mind was just speaking for her.
"Well, you know Rinoa, you did come back to Timber," reassured Zone as he reached for her hand. He held them intertwined as they walked down the rain soaked pavement. The two silently continued to stroll through the vacant streets. The young woman honestly hadn't even noticed the foreign contact as she had been kicking the puddles with her shoes. All her energy seemed to be focused on that useless task, which was sure to ruin her high heels before reaching the townhouse.
Zone continued to miss, or chose to ignore, her feigning interest and kept the one-sided conversation going. "That's the thing about a promise, sometimes they are easier to make than to keep. It doesn't matter how long it took you to come home to us. You're back and Timber is liberated. Not to mention the city is doing quite well with your help. That's what counts. It doesn't matter that it took you a few extra years or that you got slightly diverted along the path… You kept your promise in the end."
"Yeah, I guess." This time she responded on instinct, unlike her last statement which she just sort of blurted out.
He stopped suddenly causing her to jerk back in surprise. "No guessing! This night hasn't been about guessing, it's been about knowing."
"I'm sorry," she realized she hadn't been listening at all to her friend. She really wasn't great company. Hell, she wasn't even 'good' company in the present condition. Still Rinoa believed she owed it to Zone to listen, even if she didn't have a clue to what he had been talking about. "So... what were you saying about knowing again?"
"Were you even listening?" He sighed overdramatically in mock aggravation. "Oh Princess, what are we going to do with you?"
He shook her hand playfully laughing. She momentarily had a look of shock cross her face. It wasn't until that moment she realized their hands were together. She really must have been drifting to miss something even remotely along those lines. Zone laughed at her expression, thinking she had been shocked at his lighthearted reaction.
"Rin, I guess it's a good thing you never change. I love you just the way you are." He pulled her slightly, nudging her forward as they again began walking. Both remained silent as they passed an intersection. Once it was cleared, Zone began reiterating his earlier points. "Anyway, about your question… I basically was explaining about knowing it's never too late to keep a promise. If you make a promise to someone you care about, you should keep it. No matter how long it takes."
"What?" This time Rinoa was the one who came to an abrupt halt. Her tone and demeanor quickly changed. When she finally did hear Zone's words, it made her mind go numb while her stomach was hit with a wave of nausea.
"What did you say?" She repeated a little more urgently.
"Rinoa, are you not feeling well?" Zone carefully raised his free arm, placing the back of his hand on her forehead. He smiled reassuringly, before lowering his arm back down to his side. "You don't seem at all like yourself right now. At least you don't feel like you're running a fever. Do you think you might be coming down with something?"
"No!" Rinoa's reply echoed loudly through the streets of Timber. She quickly tried to smooth over her overzealous reaction; it wasn't in her nature to act that out of sorts. "I mean… I don't know really. I'm sorry. Maybe you're right, I could be getting sick."
The sorceress desperately tried to understand her own actions and reactions. Everything was starting to again feel as if she was trapped within a fog. Maybe she was starting to come down with the flu or something. That would at least explain a lot of the turmoil tonight. She certainly didn't have that much to drink tonight at the restaurant, although her mind would beg to differ in its current state.
"Look Zone, I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just been an extremely long day. I just wanted to know what brought on your comment about promises…. Please?
"Rin… I really don't know what you want me to say. I thought I did explain what I'd meant. I'm not exactly sure I could tell you the answer, when I don't understand what you're asking. I really think you're not looking well. Look, I'm going to run down to the corner pharmacy and get you some medicine, you just stay here."
"Fine," she answered in defeat. Of course he didn't know how to answer her; she didn't know how to answer herself – or what her question really was.
He let go of her hand pointing to a nearby rest area, "Just sit on that bench over there. I'll be back in no time, then we'll get you home and feed Angelo the leftovers. You better be waiting when I get back. Don't go leaving me now."
"I'll be waiting… here…"
Rinoa responded in the same clouded manner as before. As soon as she heard her words she gasped out loud feeling bile rise into her throat. Placing her hand over her mouth she couldn't find any explanation for her behavior. She needed to get home now. She turned away from Zone without further explanation and ran as fast as humanly possible down the street. She wasn't going to look back.
There was slight disturbance at the hospital's main entrance that caught both Zell and Dr. Vandermere's attention. The area had already been sealed off hours ago; Dollet soldiers were guarding all points of entry. No nonessential personal were being allowed access, so the Martial Artist was slightly surprised when two people emerged from the small group of soldiers. When he saw who it was, he felt at least a small sense of comfort.
"Sir, over here!"
The martial artist yelled a little too loudly given the current environment. He was met with several stern glares from both medical and security personnel. He would have apologized in any other circumstance for his boisterous behavior, but right now, Zell truly didn't give a damn about their opinion. Without thinking, he stood up and made a futile attempt to wave his arms at the headmaster, before the harsh realization set it.
"Holy Shit!" he exclaimed while grimacing in pain, proceeded by falling back ungracefully into his chair. Apparently the wound hurt tenfold when being placed above his torso. He certainly would remember that tiny little detail next time he felt like doing something blatantly stupid.
"I would suggest not doing that," Dr. Vandermere replied although somehow she figured her advice was already learned.
"Thanks…" muttered Zell followed by a few adjectives not decipherable by human ears.
"I'll stop by and check on you later. Please feel free to ask for me if you are experiencing any problems." The doctor stood before giving a curt nod to her patient.
Zell barely noticed that the physician had already made an exit. He was too grateful to see a familiar face, or two. Cid Kramer and Dr. Kadowaki made their way across the room towards the curtain drawn area that the martial artist had been residing in. As they moved closer, Zell noticed that the headmaster himself didn't look well. His face was flush as his whole body seemed to be drained of any color. His eyes looked tired and puffy, and he didn't even walk with his normal gait. There was something sobering about his appearance that Zell read as a bad sign.
As they neared, Dr. Kadowaki veered off, heading immediately through two double doors. At least one of his wishes came true, she would be there by Squall's side. If that even counted for anything at this moment, he didn't know. Zell would have stood and saluted his superior, but somehow he understood that wasn't necessary right now. They were slightly beyond normal protocol, not to mention his good arm was now in a sling.
"Do you know anything about Squall?" The question slipped from Zell's mouth before his brain could even process that he asked. If the headmaster's appearance was any indicator, Zell feared for the worst.
"Not much," he replied solemnly. The older man sat down in the chair beside the young SeeD, before his legs gave way. "They're still operating. I guess that is better than some of the alternatives… I do believe the bullet is still in him, or was… they found only one other casing at the scene. There were traces of blood. From that we gathered that was the one that struck you." The headmaster placed his hands over his face trying to keep his poise, but it was quickly starting to wane. "How did this happen? It was supposed to be secure. Squall wasn't supposed to be a target; he had nothing to do with the summit…"
"I don't know if he was the intended target," answered Zell honestly. He had been thinking about this since before they had been placed in the ambulance. Zell tried to calculate every possible scenario in his head, the possibilities were literally endless. "There is nothing to gain by killing Squall. The most likely scenario I can think of is that this was an act of diversion. We were protecting Balamb's delegates, maybe someone else there is the real target or everyone there… With someone as prominent as Squall going down, everyone will be concentrating on that aspect. It could be bigger than that."
"So you're saying you think Squall was nothing more than collateral damage?" It sounded like some sort of sick joke to the headmaster. He could barely utter the words.
"God, I don't know. Maybe not. It's not like SeeD hasn't made its own fair share of enemies. Hell, I'm sure Squall has a few dozen all on his own. I just… I can't think of who would be so daring as to try something so blatant."
"No, this is bigger than that. Squall hasn't been the first shot… We've known about this pattern for months, it's just… there is no real pattern to any of the killings. Except they have all been some form of shooting – but all by all different guns."
"Sir, if I have your permission, I need to go call Rinoa. I don't want her hearing about this from someone else. I feel like we owe it her and I know Squall would want it that way."
The headmaster rubbed his hands together trying to find a way to put this into words. "Listen Zell, this is a little difficult for me to say… In fact, downright impossible… Look we're all praying for the commander's recovery. But honestly, it doesn't matter what happens in the operating room right now. Either way, as far as the world is concerned, Squall Leonhart will not have survived surgery."
"Sir, no offence, I might be the one slightly medicated here, but you are making no sense whatsoever."
"I know… I can't believe I have to say this myself. The fact is someone wants Squall dead and if they don't succeed with this attempt - they'll try again. Next time there may not be any surgery… or any hope."
