Layer 006:
Siobhan


Balamb was one of those places where you could sit and watch the moon for hours.

When he was much younger, sometimes his father (Adoptive father) would take him out to the countryside with a tent, and they would camp under the stars. There was a song he used to sing--something about the sea, he thought, something innocent and soft and as far removed from him then as the moon from the ocean.

Come to the shoreline,
My child, with me....


He didn't know how he had come from that to what he was now--from innocent to killer.

His father had always seemed annoyed at how dirty his hands got when he went camping. Zell wanted to go back and tell him what he now knew--that dirt washed from the hands far more easily than blood.

Come to the shoreline,
My child, with me,
And look at the stars
That shine on the sea....


It was something he wasn't--it was everything he wasn't, everything he lost and couldn't have again.

Two little stars
Are playing go-seek
With two little fish
In the sea, in the deep,
And the frogs see the moon
And cry out "ku-reep,"
To tell my dear child
That he should be asleep.


It was dark, and he was tired and afraid. But there were no monsters here, and no tent to keep them at bay--there was a line of trucks, a few docked boats, a few stacked crates, and a fishing lean-to. This was reality--stark, bare and uneven--not the easy rhythm of a nursery rhyme.

Come to the shoreline,
My child, with me.
Come to the shoreline....


The ditty ran around and around in his head, and he felt quite certain that it would have driven him to madness if he didn't have a footing in that ground already. The minutes, the long hours, seemed interminable. And Zell would have preferred they had been, rather than face what was to come.

-

"Zell?"

The summons came from the other side of the dock, and he flinched away from them. He knew that voice--he would have preferred it to be someone else, somehow. Anyone else.

He didn't know Siobhan that well, but somehow he didn't have to look over to see her--somehow he knew how she'd be standing one hand on her hip, poised and ready without seeming poised and ready. Ready to fight. Ready to kill, alert--

"I don't suppose we could talk this out?" she asked, and his fists clenched. "...I can see you, you know."

He didn't move. Maybe she was bluffing--he didn't want to stand up, to face her. She was too far away, maybe, or the truck was in the right position--even with Fenrir (Mad GF SeeD dog) whispering things into her brain, maybe there was a chance that he was still safe.

But it didn't feel like it.

He felt hunted, cornered--like the fox in the underbrush, trying to escape the hound when the hound already had the scent.

Siobhan approached, moving in a wide arc so as to avoid a direct preemption. "Let's not do it this way, Zell," she said softly.

"Stop doing that," he shot back, backing up as far as he could.

"What's bothering you?"

(What's--?!) "Stop saying my name like we're friends."

Siobhan shrugged. "You don't need an enemy right now," she said, with perfect reasoned coolness. "Let's just talk, okay?"

She was coming into his line of sight, now. His eyes skipped over her, registering every detail. There was a bulge in her right pocket--something that registered in his SeeD-trained mind as weapon. "Stay there."

Siobhan stopped, making a wide, open-handed gesture. "You can still talk, right? Let's talk."

"I don't have anything to say to you," Zell shot back.

"Well, from where I'm standing, there are two ways to do this," Siobhan said. "We can try to talk things out, or we can have a good old knock-down, drag-out brawl. Now, I'll take whatever comes--so, really, it's up to you."

(Dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit!) "How do I know I can trust you?"

Siobhan shrugged. "Because I have no reason to lie," she said.

Zell remained unconvinced.

"Here," Siobhan offered, backing up. "I won't come any nearer you than you want. Just come out of there." A ghost of a wry smile appeared on her face. "I really don't mean to back you into corners. I don't want to frighten you."

(I'm not scared of SeeD!) Standing stiffly, he inched his way out from between the trucks and into the open.

He was almost surprised when no one jumped him--when he took a look around and could only see Siobhan. The Docks were empty, except for them--hunter and hunted.

Siobhan backed up a few more steps, luring him further out of his hiding place. There was a gentle breeze he hadn't noticed--soft, too soft for the moment, the world, and all his newfound truth.

Siobhan turned to the ocean, looking out across the waves. "Water sure is beautiful at night," she said. "Don't you think so? The way the moon reflects off the waves?"

Zell turned too, looking at the inky expanse. He had never heard Siobhan talk like this--never expected her to. "...you want me to go back to Garden," he said flatly.

"Of course I do. It's your home, Zell. It's where you belong."

(Because I killed Cid? Because I'm a killer?) "No. It's not."

"Of course it is."

Zell took a step back. "Maybe I thought it was once," he protested, "but it isn't any more. I can't go back there."

"Why not?"

He shook his head. "You wouldn't understand." (You're a SeeD, and you don't know what I know. You wouldn't understand....) "Wh--why did you have to come after me?"

Siobhan sighed. "It's a pretty strange story, to tell truth. We got a call from Seifer--Seifer, of all people. When they woke me up, I thought it was a prank--on someone's part. But he told us what you had said. ...about Cid. And I was dispatched, immediately. Zell--"

Zell shook his head. "It wasn't like that," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't want to hurt him," he confessed. He looked down, and was surprised to see his hands shaking. "..I didn't want to fight him."

"What did--"

"I wanted to save him." He clenched his fists, and it didn't steady them. He let go. "I wanted to do something right, but I can't, because--" (--because SeeD Hyne damn it makes you kill and kill so that killing is easy and it's all you know--) "--because I never learned how to. Because all I learned how to do was kill, and--" (--and that's all anyone I know knows how to do and--) "--that's all you know how to do, too." (And the only person I knew who could do something different was Drake and now he's not here to help me and why is it that Drake and Fordham can change and be good people and I'm nothing but a--) "Killer. ...that's all we are."

Siobhan was looking out to sea, ever so silently. "Sounds like you have a lot on your chest," she said, voice carefully neutral. (She isn't listening to me,) Zell realized. (Not really. It's just an act, let the crazy man talk so that they'll trust you....)

"I wanted to help you," he snapped, rounding on her but not approaching. "But I can't! You don't understand it--all you understand is SeeD. You--you're not a rookie like me."

Siobhan turned around to face him, expression--as ever--unreadable. "I never thought I hear that," she said.

"What?"

"You. Calling yourself a rookie." Siobhan gestured vaguely. "You weren't exactly proud of the fact."

"It means that they could save me," Zell contended. "Not you. You've been so brainwashed by SeeD that--"

"Brainwashed?" Siobhan seemed genuinely surprised. "...there's an interesting word for it."

(What?)

Siobhan tucked both hand behind her back, tilting her head slightly to one side. "You're just as brainwashed as I am, Zell," she said. "Except that you're playing for the opposite team."

(I'm not--) "I'm different."

"No, you're not." Siobhan made a wide gesture, as if seeking to indicate the entire world. "Life brainwashes you, Zell. No matter who you are or where you live or what you do, you learn something and won't let it go. Maybe you will change your mind, later on. Maybe you'll change your mind on everything, buy into something else. It's still brainwashing. That's all there is."

(What--?) Zell shook his head. This wasn't making any sense, and yet--

"Come back to Garden with me," Siobhan said. "Just come back. We can figure everything out there, okay?"

(No!) He shook his head, more violently than he should have. He stumbled, raising both hands and unsure whether he should be attacking or fending off blows. "Why? So you can brainwash me back?" (Make me sit there and listen to lies while you tell me that SeeD is good, that killing is all right, that--)

"And you can try to brainwash me. Maybe we'll get something figured out."

"No," he said, fear of something unknown creeping into his voice. (She's in SeeD and SeeD is killers and liars so I can't believe her, I can't--)

"You're in some bad trouble, Zell," Siobhan said, softly and far too earnestly. "I want to help you."

(Help!) "Fordham wanted to help me, Drake wanted to help me, I don't know what you want but you don't--" He was backing up now, hands out in front of him to fend off an assault he didn't even understand. "You're SeeD, and SeeD doesn't help people, it kills--"

Siobhan wasn't advancing on him, but it felt as if she was. "You're wrong," she said. "SeeDs are human, just like anyone. Just like you."

(Not just like me, I know the difference between right and wrong and this is wrong, I don't know how but it is!) "Leave me alone." He rammed into the truck behind him, lost his footing, and fell to the ground. The irrational fear had grown into an irrational terror, and it felt as if someone was tightening a noose around his neck when Siobhan's right hand made the slightest move toward the bulge in her pocket. (It's a gun,) he realized.

"I can't, Zell," she said, voice still that damnably cool calm. "I have to bring you back."

(She's going to kill me,) some hind part of his brain screamed at him. (SeeD's going to shoot me she'll kill me SeeD knows what I did and what I want to do and they're going to kill me and they can because it's SeeD--)

"...I never thought you'd use a gun," the part o his brain that was still in control noted.

"Are you going to fight me? I don't want to fight you."

"You're going to kill me--"

"No." (Liar!)

"--because that's what--that's what--" (Damn it all, that's what you do!)

"Don't make me fight you." It was a warning. It should have been a plea.

(I'm not the one making you fight anything. It's SeeD. It's all SeeD, and I wish I could save you--
--but you're too far gone for anything. It's all you are. SeeD.)


He swallowed.

(Killer.)

He felt sick--sick and dizzy and angry and afraid. Hate crept into him from every direction, from inside and out, flooding his senses without his volition, accelerating his heart so that every nerve screamed out at him, fight or flee!

Siobhan stood to one side of him, the ocean to the other. Flight was no option--there was really only one. (And this is what SeeD makes me do--makes me kill, makes me a killer and I hate it I hate it so much--)

"Zell?"

(I'll start it,) he decided. (I'll finish it, because it's the only way--the only right thing to do. I'll kill you so you don't have to kill. Death for death. That's fair... isn't it?)

He stood up. Siobhan was waiting expectantly for an answer.

"...I'm sorry," was all he could come up with. "...sorry, Siob. I want you to know I'm sorry."

It was all the warning he gave her before he charged.

-

There was a kind of serenity in it all. In force, momentum, instinct--in the pure balance of action... reaction and the precise movements made easy by practice and habit. There was a kind of serenity in the fact that what he was doing was wrong, and he knew it and there was nothing he could do--a kind of serenity in the despair of it all.

There was no serenity in the rage as it consumed him, or the hate as it knotted his stomach, or the sound of blood in his ears. It was too physical, too visceral--too unreasoned, too set apart from the rightness of the world.

It was all he knew. All they had taught him, all he had learned.

(Want it,) some tiny, vicious portion of his brain hissed at him. (Need it. Accept it. You have to fight fire with fire--the only one who can stop a SeeD is a SeeD. Be evil to stop evil. It's the only way.)

The only way--

He had fought before--he had enjoyed fighting before. (More than I like running.)

Siobhan might have been in SeeD, and SeeD might have used GFs, but a magical battle would be bright and noisy and disruptive--SeeD was interested in keeping on Balamb's good side (Pulling the wool over their eyes!), so Siobhan would avoid making a scene in the middle of the night if she could at all help it. She was a martial artist and so was he--except for the gun in her pocket, they were fighting on equal terms.

Just like he had in a hundred battles, just like he had in a thousand training sessions, he engaged his enemy--faint, swing, duck and dodge. Siobhan was easily his equal, but she was still at the disadvantage.

(She doesn't want to kill me as much as I need to kill her.)

It was hard, fast, and physical. He got a fist up into her ribs, she caught him with a headbutt that burst stars in his vision. Again and again they connected, sometimes blocking, often not--glancing blows that still left bruises, solid hits that seemed almost to kill--

Siobhan hooked her heel around Zell's ankle, landing both palms on his sternum with enough force to trip him over backward. He hit the ground hard, tucking into a roll as quickly as his muscles would respond--two seconds more and he was on his feet again, facing his opponent from a distance of some few metres.

Siobhan's eyes unfocused, and her hand stretched out--and Zell faltered. That was a classical pose for drawing or sending GFs or magic--and it wasn't as if he could be expected to have anything she would want so much as to make herself vulnerable for the few seconds it took. (So... huh?)

There was the barest moment of disorientation, and Zell felt a new GF junctioning itself to him. He was taken aback for a second, confused--they were in the middle of a pitched battle, why would his enemy be giving him more firepower? What in hell was she trying to do?

There had to be an explanation. An easy, simple explanation that he could analyze and understand (just like Drake said I could).

Maybe it was because the mental cues for sending and summoning GFs were--

--so dissimilar that no one would ever be able to confuse the two.

Damn and hell.

He cut the speculation short with an angry charge, aiming a blow at her neck that could easily snap her spine. She ducked and dodged--damn Siobhan, she was as slippery as a greased Cactuar--and twisted away, hopping up onto a crate and extending her hand again. This time he felt the reverse disorientation as Kirin was pulled from his mind, leaving him with....

(Doomtrain.)

He didn't have time to summon a GF in a pitched battle like this one, but Doomtrain came with other added perks that didn't take so much time. Added perks that might be able to allow him to twist the battle into his favor, even if Siobhan was being skittish and avoiding a direct confrontation.

...this was going to hurt, but one thing Drake had taught him well was that sometimes if you wanted something badly you had to pay in pain. And Zell wanted very, very badly to kill this SeeD.

Siobhan was reaching for the gun in her pocket, and that put her offguard for the few moments he needed. The mental cues for Doomtrain were fairly simple ones--this was going to be easier than one, two, three.

(DARKSIDE.)

He charged, swinging his fist in a roundhouse that could have smashed the exoskeleton of an X-ATM. Siobhan saw the attack coming and tried to dodge it--but one thing he had learned about the Darkside attack was that it rarely--if ever--missed.

Siobhan twisted and Zell followed, swinging in with his other hand and catching her squarely just below the ribs, fueled by a dark surge of paramagic. There was an audible crack--Siobhan sucked in breath, tumbling to the ground and rolling. Zell felt the answering pain as the magic rebounded on him, causing him to stumble backward.

Siobhan came up faster than he expected, backing quickly away to gain some space. Her hand darted into her pocket, and--

...now that he noticed, there was something odd about the bulge in that pocket. It seemed to be a lot thicker at the bottom--which was absurd. That meant the butt of the gun had to be downward, and who in their right mind walked around with a gun in their pocket whose barrel pointed up?

...which meant that that probably wasn't a gun.

He was really, really confused.

However, dead people were notoriously easy to understand--so he figured that pretty soon he could make everything all right and easily understandable.

(...Darkside.)

Siobhan withdrew the weapon--a synthetic rod with a mace end--and challenged him to come near her again. Zell took up the challenge immediately.

She had seen the advantages Darkside gave him, now--she was ready to handle it. As soon as he came within striking distance she jumped away, twisting and scuttling behind him before he had a chance to turn. Bringing the weapon to bear, she swung it in a tight arc as he turned to deliver his blow--

His foot smashed into her leg at about the same time the weapon slammed into the base of his skull. And suddenly--in the instant just before impact--he felt a glint of recognition as to what, precisely, the weapon was.

It felt--

"Wake up!"

--as if someone had Pained him--

(Waitaminnit.)

--while he was asleep.

Doomtrain flooded his unconscious mind with nightmare. His conscious mind quietly relinquished the controls, and plunged him into darkness.