The Gift of Life, Chapter 7

"Impossible"

»~~*~~«

Quistis took the letter, her hand shaking slightly. The older nurse, attempting to control herself, watched cautiously as the young woman read the fax. Her eyes welled with tears, and waited for the girl's reaction.

Quistis' concerned sapphire-blue eyes scanned the words imprinted on the page, trying to comprehend what they said.

Impossible.

It couldn't be true.

Her eyes read the last few words on the page, and her eyes moved from the white paper to large, tear-filled brown eyes of Daisy. Her fingers unwillingly loosened their grip, and the paper fluttered to the ground. The cold black words stared back up at her, but she paid no mind. Her hands began to tremble, and her lower lip quivered.

She began to breathe faster, her heart pounded against her ribcage, and she looked around in panic. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't be. The room began to spin, and she breathed faster and faster. Daisy's white form swirled into a blur, and Quistis forked her hands through her hair. Her pale, tense fingers pulled at her golden locks of hair, it was all happening too fast.

Stop…

She was too shocked to cry, she could only deny it all. "No…" was the only word her tight throat would let escape. Her insides burned, and her lungs and head felt surprisingly light. It was a substantial contrast to her heavy heart. Her mouth was dry as cotton, and the room kept spinning fast… faster, faster, faster still. She clamped her eyes shut, and began to shake her head. Nothing helped the spinning; the last thing she felt was the cool floor tiles against her cheek before she fell into blackness.

»~~*~~«

She awoke a couple minutes later, surrounded by cloudy, obscured figures clothed in white. For one wild, hazy moment, she believed she had died and gone to heaven; she was surrounded by angels. But as the figures began to take shape, she recognized them as her hospital coworkers, wearing visages full of concern.

She groaned slightly. The memories of what had just happened came back, her head ached, and she wanted everyone to know that she was awake. Her chest hurt a little, and she just wanted to go home and sleep it all away.

Someone held smelling salts underneath her nose, in an attempt to fully wake her up. The bitterly offensive smell caused her to tightly close her eyes, wrinkle her nose, and twist her head away from the source. "Oh!" she exclaimed. She gently pushed the hand away, and stood up.

"Well, now that you're up, Quistis, we can send you home," Daisy said. The others nodded behind her, looking uncomfortable. They eyed her cautiously, as if they wanted to say something, but didn't dare to; some held a look of pity, others avoided her gaze.

Quistis knew at that point why they looked at her in such a manner; it was the same reason that they were letting her go. They knew what happened; the traumatic event was the cause of her collapse.

"Well, I'll just… go now…" she said vaguely. Now that she remembered what had happened, she turned to Daisy, and felt fresh tears begin to fight their way out; her throat began to burn, and she gulped. "Daisy, I'm going to have to take some… time off. There's something I have to do."

Daisy carefully approached her, taking Quistis' delicate hand into her own careworn ones. Her gentle face was creased slightly more than usual, and it was obvious that Quistis' pain distressed her as well. The matronly woman attempted to put on a warm, yet sympathetic smile. "You take all the time you need, a'right honey? If you need anything, anything, you just call me, hear?" Taking her into a warm, comforting hug, she whispered, "You know you can come to me anytime you need to. I'll take care of everything over here."

Quistis hugged the woman, relieved that she didn't have to say anything more. She was grateful to have a co-worker… no, a friend, like her. The hot, salty tears began to trickle down her cheeks freely, and she sniffed lightly. She broke the embrace, gave a nod to Daisy, and left the hospital, walking quicker than normal.

»~~*~~«

No one gave her so much as a second glance as she walked the lonely way home. She never lifted her eyes from the hard, cold concrete below her.

Somehow, she made it home.

But was it really her home?

Or rather, a substitute? A poor excuse for a home she had had before, that this existence could not replace?

As she expected, Quistis found a new message on her answering machine, along with the old message from Selphie. She didn't even have to press that damned green button to know who was calling, at what time, and about whom. But, in a mechanical movement, she pressed it, and braced herself.

BEEP

Hi, you've reached Quistis! Leave a short message along with your name and number, and I'll get back to you if I feel like it. Thanks!

Quistis almost scoffed at how happy she sounded in the recording. What a lie.

What a Hyne-damned lie.

The machine beeped again, revealing and confirming Quistis' deepest fear. A hard lump formed in her stomach, and she suddenly felt sick.

It was obvious that the speaker had been crying, because the voice trembled, and wheezed slightly, from weeping so long and hard.

Quistis… it's… Rinoa. I'm so sorry to break into your new life like this, but I wanted you to know. If you haven't already gotten word, I have… devastating news.

A few days ago, Squall went out on a mission to suppress an insurrection in the rebuilt Galbadia Missile Base. A deranged arsonist stationed himself there, and coordinating attacks in some sort of twisted demonstration; Balamb Garden felt Squall was the most qualified to go in to take care of the situation. He went in with SeeDs from both Trabia and Galbadia Gardens. Quistis… he never came back. I… can't talk about it any more than that.

It would mean so much if you came back, Quistis. We all need to be together again, and we miss you terribly, especially now. We're all at Garden.

BEEP

But Quistis couldn't hear the last part of Rinoa's message. Hard, painful sobs racked her body. She cried harder than she ever had before in her life.

Squall Leonhart was gone.

She pressed her hands against her face and let her wails of grief out. She felt as if someone was sitting on her chest; it was tight, and it was hard to breathe through the sobs. She was afraid that she was going to vomit, she was crying so hard.

"Oh, Hyne!" she cried out, collapsing onto her side, letting the river of hot tears burn their way down her reddened countenance.

She cried for Squall. She cried for Rinoa Heartilly-Leonhart. She cried for the others who had to live through this loss, Selphie Tilmitt, Zell Dincht, Irvine Kinneas, Edea Kramer, President Laguna Loire…

She cried for the part of herself that died with Squall.

Quistis finally dragged herself from the floor, and stumbled slightly toward her bedroom, tears blurring her vision. From a mahogany box atop her dresser, she unearthed a hair clip. She undid the nurse's bun and released her golden tresses, so they flowed free. With one deft movement, her skilled fingers twisted her hair up into its fishtail, letting two sections of her hair fall loose to frame her face.

Sobbing, she removed her white starched nurse's uniform, letting it carelessly fall to the carpeted floor. She went to her closet, and opened it. At the very back was an array of clothes she hadn't worn in four long, agonizing years.

She pushed various dresses and outfits to the side, remembering words that Headmaster Cid Kramer had spoken to her after she resigned from Garden.

You'll always be a part of SeeD, Quistis. Any time you wish to return to your status, all you have to do is come back.

She had never anticipated, in her wildest dreams, that these words would hold some value to her, as she donned the outfit she had been searching for.

With every button she buttoned, every fastening she carefully but skillfully clasped, memories came flooding back to her. But this time around, she welcomed them, instead of disposing them back into a corner of her mind, like trash.

She sat on her bed, and zipped up her old brown knee-high boots that had seen the demise of Ultimecia, when she was eighteen years old.

Lastly, she placed her gold-rimmed glasses onto her dainty nose, which was caressed by what seemed like thousands of tears by this time.

After avoiding her reflection the whole time in the full-length mirror, she pulled together the nerve to look at herself.

She gasped at what she saw; the mirror didn't show her Quistis Trepe, RN.

It reflected back Quistis Trepe, SeeD Rank A.

The gold buttons sparkled brilliantly, in contrast to the bright blue and green of the official SeeD uniform. The pristine uniform that distinguished her as a prized fighter, the medals that marked her as a valued hero. She felt like a whole new person. By simply donning this uniform that reflected her past life, she felt one again like the eighteen-year-old SeeD she had been.

When she looked at herself, she couldn't help but think that Quistis Trepe, RN had died, and Quistis Trepe, SeeD Rank A had been reborn.

This sensation was new and yet familiar to her, all at once.

It was tragic that she needed the death of a dear friend to awaken her to her past self, and accept it without shame. She felt that it was now a disgrace to Squall to have denied her past for the previous four years.

She couldn't run from it any more.

This is who she was destined to be.

»~~*~~«

Several hours later, Quistis stood in front of the Deling City Train Station. It had begun to rain, a slight sprinkle at first, but by this time it was a torrential downpour. The raindrops mingled with the salty tears that still trickled down her face. She silently thanked Hyne for her waterproof boots and impermeable raincoat; however, she cursed herself for not having an impermeable spirit. She looked up at the brightly-lit building, her pupils dilating ever so slightly.

Clutching her bags tightly, she ascended the stairs, escaping from the cold, dark city, into the light atmosphere of the Train Station. She approached the ticket-seller, a grizzled-looking old man, who coughed into his fist before handing her the ticket of her request. Her soft fingers gingerly took the ticket from the man's rough, gnarled hand, and she continued on to her designated train.

She had taken the liberty to call Daisy, when her sobs had somewhat subsided, and make sure that Seifer was released without conflict. She almost slipped and forgot to use his pseudonym, Tristan Lockheart. Daisy reported that he left with a relative; this bit of information particularly piqued her interest.

I have bigger things to worry about at that moment, she thought as she boarded the train.

This was surely the most impossible series of events that had ever occurred in Quistis' life.

But she was in for more; so much more than she had ever thought possible.

It was the mere beginning of the events that would change her forever.

»~~*~~«

A/N: I got a great streak of inspiration, and I'm still riding on it. Lots more to come, I sincerely hope you're enjoying it. Thanks so much for reading. ^_^