Disclaimer: Fire Emblem does not belong to me
Saffiremoon21: Lol. I SO smiled when I read your review. Thanks, I'm really happy you liked it! This one has Seth drinking! Ohohohoho. . .
Sukiyakii: Sorry, I don't think there'll be a sequel. I'll certainly go through the alternate plot lines I had for it though! This chapter is one of those alternate plots. Hooray for kitty cat eyes!
Maxmagnus20019: Why, thank you, I was afraid FE wouldn't adapt too well to a Modern Day! More weirdness shall ensue now. . . but, after this, no more Modern Day fics for about six or so chapters. (rubs hands eagerly) Instead, you'll get death fics! Mwahahahaha!!!
5/20/07 Wow, I'm really glad you all liked the last chapter. I'm still surprised none of you guys complained that the plot was fairly weak; feel free to say that if that's what you think (or am I just asking for bad luck now. . .?). I was sure a Modern Day AU wouldn't be so well-received. Speaking of that, are there any Modern Day FE fics? Anyway, this was another Modern AU. It was the second plot bunny for the last chapter involving a Seth that drinks.
Edited 11/4/07
Broken Addiction. (FE8:SS) SethxEirika. One-shot. She thought she'd save him. Instead, he ended up saving her. Modern Day AU and OOC.
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It's a terrible thing. To walk into this night club every night dressed like I'm some kind of whore. The clothes fit like a second skin and barely conceal anything. The makeup is dramatic and screams that I'm not a little girl. And every night I walk in even though I'm underage, because I played up on the bouncer, and have "a good time."
I dance like no one is looking; grinding to nameless and faceless bodies letting myself become lost in the heat of their bodies. I drink endlessly, waking up every morning in my apartment wondering what I did the night before. And the pills. . . those are the worst. I know they're eating away my mind, but I can't stop taking them. I should know better, I took all the health classes school offered and I know I shouldn't, but. . . There's always a "but" and I take the pills downed with a sip of only-the-devil-knows.
I know I'm better than this, I know it. But I can't kick this habit, and I'm not sure I want to. In this place, this dim lit and grungy club, everything is about self-indulgence, but to me, it's for everyone but me. I dress for the men, I dance for the men, I drink for the men; all so I can convince myself one of them will actually love me.
I'm so twisted, thinking this.
Last night, I saw an angel. Or what should be an angel. He walked into the club and asked for the strongest thing the bar-tender had. I don't think he noticed me; I looked at him in wonder, why would someone as high-class as him be here? I asked him, and he said:
"There's now where else to go."
And those words made my eyes go wide and my grip on the shot glass slacken drastically. I saw myself in him at that moment. Once, I was in his position, wandering the streets aimlessly, entering the first club I saw and moping around. But soon the moping was noted by some good Samaritan who bought me a drink thinking I was legal. And soon, one thing led to another, and now, if I was once an angel, I'd long forsaken my wings.
And I hate it. That's why I decided I wouldn't let him end up like me. I stayed beside him all night, warding off anyone who'd want to buy him drinks. I let him get healthily drunk, and then I grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the club (don't let my size fool you, I can bench just as much as a man).
He was drunk and protested, but I insisted he go home and not come back to any clubs like these. He refused; I asked him where he lived, and he refused to tell me, so I told the cab driver my address.
I took him home with me, set him up on his side in case he threw up (hey, I did learn something from those health classes), and made sure there was a glass of water next to him. I sat next to him the entire night, waking up now and then to make sure he was okay. He slept deeply and didn't wake up.
When he woke up in the morning he was definitely hung over. I directed him to the bathroom where he spent a good amount of the morning puking his guts out. I dimly remembered that's how I spent my day after I had first gotten drunk.
He came out looking somewhat refreshed and thanked me for my hospitality. I told him he could come by anytime he needed a place to crash, not bothering to worry if I sounded too bold. He thanked me again and left. I thought I'd never see him again. I thought I'd directed him to the goodness-and-light path, but I was wrong. He showed up again in the nightclub.
Once again, I dragged him away from the bar, and once he was sober enough to think clearly, I gave him a to-the-point lecture about where he'd end up if he continued like this. I told him that if he ever needed the change in atmosphere, just come by and talk to me; I'm always there anyway. He said thanks and left. I dryly noted that I had just told him to stay away, but come by if he wanted to talk. I must've sounded like I was an idiot. And then I noted I'd become what would have been a sponsor if he'd been in the AA.
He came by the club every night after that, and he'd just talk to me. I offered him cautious advice gleaned the hard way, hoping he wouldn't make my mistakes again. I think I did make a difference.
Helping him made me realize I'd be a hypocrite if I couldn't clean myself up. So I tried. And tried. And tried. But habits and addictions are hard to get rid of. I think he noticed I was trying to quit because after I started to, he started to come by my apartment.
He was clean by then of course, not that there was anything to clean up. One day I woke up and saw all my liquor was gone, and all my pills as well. I smiled when I saw that. I knew he had done it.
After that, I started to laugh again, I started to dress smartly and decided to get a job. But I still went to the nightclub. I didn't drink anything hard anymore, but couldn't quite resist the temptation of a beer. I wasn't clean yet.
So now, I'm sitting at my usual bar stool, waiting for my angel to appear. I feel guilty; I know he only comes here because I am. It feels like a sin to keep an angel coming to this hell.
. . . I'm not helpless, I'm not going to let him keep saving me.
I step out of the bar and into the city. He'll be fine in there, he won't be tempted to get drunk, he's overcome that.
The air is cold and refreshing, clean and sobering. I inhale deeply and exhale the smoky air from the club. I release all my demons; they have no hold on me any more. No, he's showed me I can free myself from that.
I take a step out into the world that's waiting. An entire world for me to explore and overcome. I'm going to start a new life and make sure its one he'll be proud of. And when I'm ready, I'm going to find him again and tell him how much he's done for me.
x x x
It's an addiction I just can't kick
Everynight I come in here, dressed for everyone but myself
Dancing the night away, slipping back drinks, not for myself
Everything in this place is never for myself
Last night I saw something, I don't know what he is
He doesn't belong here in this world,
He doesn't belong with the leering men
So what is he doing here?
This angel sweeps down (or is he a man?)
Without aplomb, looking lost in this twisted world
I ask him what he's doing here, and he replied
"There's no where else to go."
So that night, I swore to God, I'd get him out of here
But it seems God had different plans, because the next thing I knew, he became my saving grace
So now, everynight I wait for him
I don't wait for anything else, not anymore
He's become anything and everything
But I can't help but feel guilty, because I know he only comes for me
It's me who's keeping this angel here in Hell
So one day, he'll come here, and I won't be here anymore
I'll take the wings he's given me and see how far they'll take me
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Now on to this extremely long author's note that you can completely ignore if you want.
So, if I didn't make it clear enough, Eirika was popping pills (as in illegal drugs) in this fic. And I'm sure you're all wondering why the heck is Eirika so screwed up. It's basically the same reason as the previous chapter. She's been abused and it's her way of coping. And forgive the line where Eirika says "Last night I saw an angel." I know it sounds like the James Blunt song "You're Beautiful," but that line just fit with the poem (which was written before the narrative).
Anyway, this leaves only one remaining plot line (for the last chapter), but that's the one I might have to post separately for an M rating. In case you were wondering, it would involved Eirika's parents getting divorced and her living with her mother. Her mother would end up dating Valter, who then sexually abuses her. Then, Valter and Eirika enter an unhealthy relationship where although he abuses her, he also loves her in his own twisted way. Of course, it would have an eventual SethEirika twist. I haven't actually written it yet, so it might not even be published at all.
On a side note, might I recommend a good FE8 fic for those who haven't stumbled across it yet? It's called "A Garden of Our Own" by Shimizu Hitomi, or I think that's her (his?) name. I CRIED my eyes out when I read it. Try listening to the instrumental version of the Princess Mononoke theme while reading it.
And as always, REVIEW! Like? Dislike? Constructive criticism? Don't be afraid to speak your mind! Just drop a line! Please REVIEW!
Preview for Chapter 15: Valour. When I find myself around her, all these qualities slip away. Seth POV.