In Who's Name? Chapter 12: In The Middle Of The Night, a final fantasy viii fanfic

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Characters and universe borrowed from Final Fantasy VIII. Not owned by Gold.

Very long chapter.

Title: In Whose Name?

Part 12: In The Middle Of The Night

Quistis scrunched up her eyes as she splashed more water on her face. She was having an early night for once and was grateful for the extra rest she was going to get. The day had been long, hectic and depressing, and she wanted to escape to the land of dreams quickly. Seifer had strained his injured rib badly in the rescue, and while he had been fêted all over the news stations and was enjoying the glory part of it, Quistis had been getting earfuls from quite a number of people. Her mind checked them off one by one.

First was a disapproving headmaster. Cid had spouted a good deal of rhetoric, especially about the impromptu press conference, and about drawing attention to Garden, etc.

Then an anxious Matron, still frail and fragile after so many months, rang about once every hour to enquire about Seifer. Matron was a considerate, kind-hearted woman, and she was not harsh on Quistis, but her obvious anxiety made Quistis' burden much heavier.

Then an annoyed Dr. Kadowaki had put in her oar.

On top of all that, Seifer's behaviour when she had gone to visit him in the infirmary that morning, had been less than gracious. He probably hadn't forgiven her for shipping him off to the showers so unceremoniously. Well, it wasn't as if she had stripped him naked, or ostentatiously paraded him through the halls, or poked into his personal belongings to find him some clothing. She was just tired of his wilful disobedience and she had wanted to show him that he couldn't play around with her. A couple of well-chosen spells, some exertion of force on her part, and he was in a shower stall, where he belonged.

She wondered vaguely if it had all been a dream. Sometimes it felt as if she had been walking in one long dream since the night she had found Seifer. On the surface, life went on, but things happened from time to time, that made her feel that it was all part of some strange dream. For one thing, Seifer was being largely nice. He was prickly, of course—his nature had always been somewhat arrogant and hard-headed—no amount of amnesia could rid him of it. But he was much easier to deal with, even if flashes of the old, pre-Ultimecia Seifer surfaced now and then, such as the refusal to take a shower. He and Zell were even more or less on conversing terms after the fire, i.e. they could now talk to each other for about two minutes without a 'chicken wuss' or other name popping up in the conversation. Somehow, both had found that it was quite a simple matter to twist their tongues into addressing each other as 'Dincht' and 'Almasy'. Quistis supposed that it had taken one unplanned, dangerous situation to make strange bedfellows out of two people who never got along. It was either that or they simply hadn't bothered to try to be civil to each other before.

Just as she had turned down the covers of the bed and was preparing to get in, the telephone rang. With a sigh, she answered it. "Quistis Trepe speaking. Oh—hello, Matron. Yes. Yes. Yes. Well, I could drive over tomorrow morning and bring you here. No, no trouble at all." She swallowed. "All right then. No, nothing's wrong," she said brightly, but bit her lip as she spoke, her fingers tightening on the telephone receiver. " 'Bye, Matron. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Quistis replaced the receiver and opened her eyes. She drew a long, deep breath and slowly unclenched her fists. Well, she would have to go and see him now, to tell him that Matron was coming. She wondered how he was going to react when he saw her—with the same scornful arrogance that was so insulting and dismissive, she supposed wearily, her shoulders slumping. Her lips curved into a half-bitter, half-resigned smile. She wasn't one to shirk responsibilities, however unpleasant they were. She squared her shoulders, pulled on a decent outfit, settled her glasses back on her nose, and marched out, heading straight for the infirmary. Partway there, she met Xu and stopped to chat for a little while. Neither noticed the tall, handsome blond man in the white-grey trenchcoat who watched the beautiful blonde instructor closely for a long time before silently slipping away.

When Quistis finally reached the infirmary, Dr. Kadowaki informed her that Seifer Almasy had been discharged earlier, with strict instructions to rest and go back for daily check-ups.

"He's left?" echoed Quistis numbly. "Oh," she added rather dully. "Well, thanks, doctor. I'll go and look for him, then. He's probably in his room. How is he, by the way?"

"Fine," responded Dr. Kadowaki. "Aside from straining that rib again, nothing's much the matter with him." She looked carefully at Quistis. "He's turning back into the old Seifer Almasy."

Quistis gave a mirthless smile and flapped one hand limply. "I know. Arrogant, defiant, scornful, rebellious—there isn't much I don't know about him."

"Is he getting his memory back?" demanded Dr. Kadowaki sharply. "Because I see no reason for his sudden reversion of personality unless..."

Quistis stood still for a second, and it seemed to the doctor that it was as if all the light that was in this girl had been blotted out. Dr. Kadowaki blinked. She would have said something, but Quistis gave her a brief, tired smile and then, shoulders squared and head up, she left.

She couldn't find Seifer, though. He wasn't in his room—or wouldn't answer the knocks; he wasn't in the cafeteria either, and nobody had seen him there; he didn't appear to be in the Training Area, and she wasn't about to go to the Secret Area to hunt for him; the telephone in his room rang and rang and rang and rang and rang, seemingly ad infinitum. She wondered if he was with some pretty girl, and steadfastly ignored the sharp inner pangs that hurt her at the thought.

All in all, Quistis Trepe decided, bed was the best option. Even then, her sleep was not uninterrupted. She tossed and turned for a long time, upset by Seifer's behaviour, and uncomfortably uncertain whether it was the shower incident that had triggered him off, or the return of his old personality. Her mind ached. Seifer had amnesia, Seifer might be getting his memory back, Seifer still hadn't talked about wanting to join SeeD, she hadn't bullied Cid into it yet, Squall must suspect something since the gunblade test, but was keeping mum as usual…and at the back of her mind, something else nagged at her…she had forgotten something very important…

The shrill, persistent screaming of the telephone next to her ear forced Quistis to wake partially. She realised that she had somehow managed to fall asleep. Automatically, she reached one hand out to grab the receiver. The rest of the 'phone followed, dangling off the small bedside table as she brought the receiver to her ear.

" 'istis 'epe," she mumbled sleepily, settling for a garbled version of her name.

"Quisty?" Irvine's voice sounded panicky. "Can you come here right away? Seifer's having a Hyne-awful nightmare and it's woken the whole corridor with his—well, he isn't screaming, exactly, but we're not happy with the noises he's making—"

"Be there in a second." Quistis slammed down the receiver and shot out from under her blankets.

It was part of SeeD training to be fully awake at anytime, at any hour when called upon. She soaked a hanky quickly and gave her face a cursory wipe, partly to wake herself up, and partly out of habit. Then she struggled into a dressing gown, pulling it over her slip, and hastily left her room. Seifer Almasy was so much trouble that she sometimes wished she could just pop him into a giant urn, cap on a lid, and let him be.

When she reached the guest room where he was staying (an empty SeeD room, really), she found Irvine waiting for her anxiously, plus several open doors and grumpy-looking SeeDs. They gaped when they saw her, and slackened jaws, drooling mouths and wide, dazed eyes were many, but Quistis ignored them. Her attention was focused on Seifer's room.

From behind the door came queer noises—it sounded like someone choking, someone in pain, someone crying but not quite, someone caught in a hell not of his own making, but from which he could never escape…

Quistis fumbled in her pocket.

"Stupid sorceress' lapdog," a SeeD grumbled. "Waking us up with his nightmares. I'm not gonna let him forget it—"

Quistis whirled around, her hair flying around her, her eyes burning like blowtorches as they fastened on the SeeD who had made those remarks. He gulped as she took a step towards him. The silence was both deafening and ominous, broken only by the sounds of Seifer's tortured gasps and cries.

Quistis swept her blazing eyes across the face of every SeeD there, and some ducked their heads. "If any word of this is breathed from now on, I will personally hunt down the tattletale." Her very voice frosted the air and made icicles out of it. She paused and added with cold emphasis, "The cafeteria ladies are always happy to have someone help them scrub the whole cafeteria down. All of it. With a toothbrush if necessary."

Faces blanched. Instructor or SeeD, Quistis Trepe never made an idle threat. Doors began to shut quietly as SeeDs darted back into their rooms.

Quistis turned back to the door and saw Irvine staring at her.

"What?" she asked in a low voice, nettled.

Irvine opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. His voice came out as a squeak. "Your glasses…"

"Came without them," responded Quistis with a shrug. She unlocked the door.

"Your hair…" mumbled Irvine.

"I know it looks like a haystack, but that can't be helped. Come on, Irvine."

Irvine shrugged and followed her. What he had really meant to tell her was that he thought she should wear her hair down more often and switch to contacts—she looked amazingly beautiful like that…

Quistis' heart wrenched when she saw Seifer. He had his arms flung out, half off the bed, and his blankets were twisted around him. His face was damp with perspiration, and so was his bare torso. He was mumbling and muttering, interspersed with the strange, choked noises he was making. She leaned close to hear him, but she could not make out what he was really saying.

"Damn you, witch! Witch! Witch!"

The sudden shrieks from Seifer caused Quistis and Irvine to stumble back in shock. Was he awake? But the blond man had turned over in his bed again, and his fists were tightly clenched, his neck craning upwards painfully. They could see the tightly corded muscles in his neck as he thrashed about on the bed, striking out wildly, but somehow, never falling off it. On the floor lay Hyperion, forgotten.

"Get me a towel," Quistis whispered to Irvine. "Quickly! He'll catch a cold if he continues like that in the air-conditioning."

Irvine stammered agreement, but he did not move. Instead, he watched Quistis.

Quistis moved slowly towards the bed, never taking her eyes off Seifer. She nimbly avoided a flailing arm, sidestepped a leg, and then bent carefully over Seifer. In one lightning move, she had each of his arms pinned to his side. Seifer gave one convulsive jerk, and then seemed to relax almost immediately. His limbs halted their wild struggle, and his harsh, pain-filled breaths slowed. He still panted as he breathed, but the breaths sounded easier and less strained. Quistis then released one of his arms. It moved a little, and then stopped. The fingers had uncurled.

Quistis then let out the breath she had been holding and stood still for a moment, simply holding Seifer's other hand. Finally, she let it go, and turned to Irvine. "Towel?" she whispered.

He was about to apologise, but then Seifer began to struggle wildly on the bed again, and Quistis spun around, and once again laid her hand in his. Immediately, he quietened down. Irvine could hardly believe his eyes, but then he remembered something. A long time ago, back when they were children together, Seifer had had a terrible nightmare. Irvine, Zell, Squall and the other little boys in the same dormitory had been woken by his cries, but nobody could wake him or pacify him. So Irvine had run to fetch Sis while Squall looked after Seifer. But Sis was asleep, and it was a wide-awake little Quistis who had put her finger to her lips to stop Irvine from waking Sis, and had herself gone to see what she could do for Seifer.

And Irvine was reminded of that night, over fifteen years ago, when little Quistis knelt by a small Seifer's side and calmed him by a mere touch. Now, a grown-up Quistis was doing the same for a much older Seifer.

"Irvine!"

Irvine started. "Huh? Oh. Oh, yah. Towel. Will do." He made for the nearest towel he saw, the one hanging over the back of the chair at the desk.

"Not that!" hissed Quistis. "It doesn't look clean!"

Irvine ignored her and lifted the towel from its resting place, feeling it. "Feels fine to me. A little bit damp, maybe, but—"

"Irvine Kinneas, there is no way I will touch that towel." Quistis looked at him. "Do you have a towel you can lend Seifer? I'll launder it afterwards, I promise."

Irvine recklessly pulled open a drawer in spite of Quistis' sharp intake of breath. He produced a towel with a look of triumph and handed it to Quistis. "Ta-dah!"

Quistis decided to skip the lecture about not poking into other people's belongings. "All right. Thanks."

Irvine watched as Quistis gently wiped Seifer's damp body and smoothed the blond man's hair away from his sweaty forehead tenderly, then patted the towel all around his face. She then switched her attentions to his arms and torso before she carefully tucked the blankets in around him. Not once did Seifer cry out, and he was breathing regularly now, a peaceful expression on his handsome face. A new idea entered Irvine's head then, as he remembered what Selphie had told him. Hyne, Selph is so right. Quisty cares a helluva lot about Almasy.

He coughed slightly and Quistis turned to face him. "Are you going to stay here all night?" he asked in a low whisper.

Quistis' face suddenly looked weary as she contemplated the long night ahead. "I suppose so." She gestured towards Seifer and spoke in the same low whisper Irvine had used. "I'll stay here as long as it takes. I don't want him to suffer anymore, and I don't want the others to be disturbed. We all need our rest."

Irvine nodded, accepting it. "You did this before, a long time ago," he said.

Quistis thought for a moment and her eyes brightened briefly. "Back when we were at the orphanage. Yes…" She smiled at Irvine. "Thanks, Irvine."

He tipped his hat. "Anytime. Hey, I'll move the armchair for you next to his bed. I'll stay here too, you know, so…" He waved a hand vaguely.

"So people won't get ideas?" Quistis smiled again. "Yes, that's a good idea…but Irvine, you take the armchair. Do you have a footstool or something I can sit on, so I can rest my head level with the bed instead?"

When the moon peeped in through the windows fifteen minutes later, she saw a curious sight in a certain SeeD accommodation in a certain Garden. A young, handsome blond man occupied the only bed in the room. A beautiful, golden-haired young woman sat by his bed, her cream-coloured dressing gown trailing on the floor, and her hand in his. The third occupant of the room was a person whose eyes were partially hidden by the cowboy hat that had fallen over his forehead, and he was fast asleep, sprawled in the only armchair in the room.