Chapter 15 - Four years in 48 hours

He threw a sideway glance at her, his face the epitome of obvious scorn... and disgust.

"Foolish. Look at what you've done. I gave you the simplest task of pouring one little vial of liquid into the Estharian water reserves... and what did you do instead? You poured half of it, and swallowed the other half yourself. What did you think it was? A forbidden elixir for immortality? Would I ever bestow such a gift on those worthless humans-mortals? Speak!"

She gritted her teeth, her expression one of bold defiance, with a barely discernable hint of terror hiding behind it.

"I do not want to bring harm unto them any more. Haven't you used my hand for enough damage already? I refuse to be your advocate of destruction any longer. Let me die instead!"

She turned away from him, for the mere sight of him sent all kinds of unpleasant sensations through her...

Especially the way he looks at me... I feel as if I'm being scrutinized by a reptilian being...

"Oh, but I must say that half of the poison was rather effective. At least, it afflicted enough of the Estharians to make an impact. Most importantly, the President himself, Laguna Loire, is suffering from a horrible and incurable disease, save for my antidote."

Her head remained turned away from him... but she was silently bleeding inside... to know that she had not stopped herself on time.

Come to think of it... it has started bleeding ever since I slit the throats of......

"And do not think that I will let you die so easily. You shall suffer... longer and more intensively than all others afflicted with it... for you deserve it for daring to try and wreak my plans!"

He strode away with his cape flowing behind him.

I thought... that I could make a difference.

Always... it has always been like this...

Too late... halfway there... I should've been stronger and thrown it away.

Heck... why hadn't I downed it all... to save everyone from this terrible... curse? I do not know what else to describe it with...

Only he has the solution.....................

But who is he?

What does he want with us?

Is there... no way out?

********

"Say again?"

"Return to the Garden immediately. Commander's orders."

"B...but Quisty's......"

"You heard me."

A click sounded at the other end of the line.

Zell was still standing dumbfounded holding onto the receiver when Damien went up to him.

He had seen the look on Zell's face as he took the call... and found it cause for great concern.

"You look like you've just received some disturbing news."

"I can sense that something bad happened at the Garden... but Irvine wouldn't tell me what it was... only conveyed that Squall wanted us back immediately."

"Including...?" Damien left the question hanging, but both of them knew that they were referring to the same guy.

The one who was now moping around in misery... holding onto Quisty's hand in her Intensive Care Unit......

******

Seifer sat next to the hospital bed with his head clutched in both hands.

The day-old stubble on his chin gave him a rugged look that was neither by his own design nor intention. It was merely an end result of his negligence of personal hygiene and well-being, for far more crucial things occupied his mind.

It had been less than 48 hours since he first found Quistis lying near his dorm...

And yet, it felt more like four years... for he seemed to have aged as much.

After being told by the doctor that she had only a twenty percent chance of regaining her consciousness.

After being patted on the shoulder by the same person and advised to take it easy... to not place too much hope in Quisty's recovery.

He was damn mad at the good doctor, who was only doing his jobs and attempting to release Seifer from some of his anxiety, but he was not knowledgeable to the inherent quality of Seifer's character.

Violence.

The agitation, the impulsive rush of adrenaline coupled with rage that had been all but watered down by Quistis' loving touch, now ran without restraint.

In no uncertain terms, he threatened the doctor to allow him special permission for entry into the ICU ward, and to accompany Quisty day and night, hour after hour.

Of course, the doctor had tried to dissuade Seifer from doing so. But after seeing the glint in Seifer's eyes and the same cold glint on the blade of his Hyperion, he had no choice but to let him have his way.

Perhaps he had been moved by the unspoken, yet deep feelings Seifer had held for Quistis, or by the pain that was etched in his cerulean eyes, and the downward curve of his mouth.

Why wouldn't you wake up, Quisty? I have cried your name until my throat was hoarse, squeezed your hand so tightly that I fear breaking the bones... and yet you remain unresponsive to my calls... are you punishing me for letting you wait so long? That I couldn't protect you enough? If so... there was never a harsher punishment than this... I beg of you... don't do this to me... or I will waste away along with you. I swear... you can hit me anyway you like, but please wake up... pl...

A loud rap on the glass of the ward interrupted his mind from its feverish thoughts. With more than a bit of irritation, he looked outwards only to see Zell and Damien watching him.

They looked as if the sky had fallen from its place in the heavens, and crashed onto the ground.

He was sure that something was amiss, but he had no clue what.

With a loud scraping sound, he pushed his chair back, slunk reluctantly towards the door, and opened it with a hard yank.

"What is it you want?" He growled at them, his expression as fierce as that of a bear suffering from insomnia during its hibernating period in winter.

"We've been ordered to return to Balamb Garden immediately, on the Commander's orders."

"Whatever for?" He was perplexed, thinking that Squall usually did not try to bother anyone when he was in "mourning period", unless it was concerning a matter of paramount importance.

And it had been well-known to the Balamb Garden Community that Seifer had remained in the "mourning period" ever since Quisty packed her bags and left the Garden.

"I have a feeling that something's definitely gone wrong... but..."

"But what?" Seifer demanded impatiently, fearful that he was about to hear more bad news again.

"Irvine wouldn't confirm my suspicions when I asked him. I guess we can't do anything except return."

"But..."

"Not to worry, Master. I shall guard over My Lady, and I will be sure to inform you the second she awakes."

"......" Seifer did not reply, appearing to contemplate his next course of action for the moment.

"Alright. I shall trust her in your hands, even though..." He gazed long and hard at Quisty, looking as though he never wanted to leave her side.

"C'mon, Seif. It's not like you ain't coming back. It may just take a few hours at the Garden. Maybe my hunch was wrong. It's bound to be inaccurate one time or another. Zell patted his friend's shoulder in hope of easing his anxiety a little.

"Argh... get your hands off of me! That's disgusting!" Seifer shrugged it off as if it contained poison, and started out for the exit. "I'll be back soon."

Wait for me, Quisty.

A loud click of the door indicated that the two had left.

Damien stood next to the bed, looking down at his Lady with a heavy weight on his chest.

But Zell... do you not know that next Celestine, you have the sharpest instincts I have ever seen?

I only hope my worry is a needless one......

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A/N: I know, I know this is unsatisfactorily short... but it's already so late, and I hadn't had the time to update... I might update a longer chapter in the next few days, so just bear with this for the time being, eh? Please review, thanks.

(Well, even though this chapter wasn't as eventful as the last, it still keeps the fic moving.... I hope? Not to worry... I shall aim to update another substantial chapter by tomorrow!)