A/N: Sorry about the delay. There are only a few more chapters left here, though, so enjoy!
Chapter 18
It was amazing how one could feel betrayed by a room full of inanimate objects. The room itself stood still, and everything inside it was so painfully familiar, even while he no longer recognized his own life. It was amazing how only one day, one instant could change everything so much...
Click...
It was as if the sound signified some kind of shift in the universe, as if it had turned upside down and was locking into its new place with the floor on the ceiling and the roof beneath his feet. Just the one little sound made when she readied his own weapon against him...
His eyes caught on the picture that had been sitting on his desk for months now. There was that same empty smile, shielded beneath the gleaming surface of the glass. It was difficult to think that one chanced glance at this photo could have led to all of this. It was impossible to believe that his story could turn out like this. Wasn't the hero supposed to get the girl?
The high-pitched cry of glass as it shattered into dozens of little pieces disrupted his thoughts, and he realized then that he'd slammed his fist down on the picture frame, causing it to meet violently with the surface of his desk. He couldn't help the bitter smile that formed on his face. The shinning surface had finally been broken.
"Seifer, you okay, man?"
He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or lash out, but he settled instead for just a simple nod. "What can I do for you?" he asked, calmly slipping the busted remnants of the photograph into a drawer.
"A new case, of course," Raijin answered, laying a collection of papers on his friend's desk.
Seifer glanced over them. "Raijin, this is a kidnapping case. In case you don't remember, this is the homicide department."
"I know, but just look at it. Look at the name on it. The guy's kid has been nabbed, but he's been trying to keep it all hush-hush, you know? He doesn't want it getting out."
"I get that, but what does it have to do with our department?"
"Look at his occupation."
Seifer stood up, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. "Get him on the phone, right away!"
()()()()()()()()
Sometimes, when you first open your eyes in the morning, it's like seeing the world for the first time. All its beauty, all of its imperfections born anew with the light of day. An endless array of possibilities seem to stretch out beyond the horizon, as if you could take flight and drift from one thing to the other without direction, without purpose... It was a good thing freedom was not yet his to take. There had been few words, with such immense concepts attached that had scared him more. Now there was only uncertainty to deal with.
Innocence, as pure as it might appear, was a fickle and complicated thing, and the chances that he would ever attain such a label were slim. So what then? They couldn't run forever. It was a pleasant little escape from reality, to flit from town to town without consequence with the cheerful ambiance of a newly weds' honeymoon, yet it could never last. It would only be a matter of time before money ran out, or the cops caught up, and in that, he could see only a bleak end for the both of them. No, he couldn't let it happen, not to her. He refused to see her gunned down in the middle of some stand off like the kind of tragic catastrophe you see on the evening news.
The age-old question was ever present in his mind: Where do we go from here? Even if, by some miracle, his name were cleared, how would life go on? By now she had probably lost her job, and he hadn't one to support her with. Despite what Quistis had always said, he didn't believe he had any outstanding talents, but he couldn't just live off his... his what? His wife? Is that what he wanted? He believed so. But what about her? Could she even tolerate him for that long?
He sighed heavily, finding no answers despite the desperate search of his mind. His future was a series of blank pages, waiting for him to fill in the story... and yet, he couldn't seem to find his pen. Yeah... some husband he'd make...
It was an impossible struggle of desperation and belief. He wanted, no, needed to make a move. He had to choose his path before he was met with a dead-end road. But he couldn't see beyond the present, couldn't budge from the spot he was in for the simple fact that he didn't believe he could do it. His future was too dark to have a happy ending. The best he could hope for was to get Rinoa out of his own mess before she suffered from it anymore.
He tightened his hold on the sleeping woman in reaction to his thoughts of letting her go. "You don't need this... but I'm not sure I'm strong enough to let you go," he whispered.
"I already told you once, you're not getting rid of me."
He jumped slightly at the sound of his lover's voice, having been certain that she was still in a deep, peaceful slumber. "You have to understand Rinoa... I... If anything ever happened to you..."
"It won't."
"Don't!" he started, then took a deep breath to steady his temper. "Don't make promises you might not be able to keep, Rinoa. You can't predict the future. I want you here more than anything, but your safety is more important than what I want."
"And what about what I want?" she demanded.
"Just because you want me here now doesn't me you will later. You'll get tired of me eventually."
A sharp stinging sensation met with his arm and he looked to see a hand-shaped mark on it. "I'm not that kind of person, and I'm insulted that you would even think that! Or do you assume that because that's how you are?"
He grabbed both of her hands and held them against his chest to prevent another strike. "That's not what I meant! Rinoa... you deserve a good life. Something much better than I can offer you. I'm not sure I can even stand on my own two feet, how am I supposed to support you, too? Look, even if all this does work out... I still don't know what I'm doing. I don't think I can..."
"Well, it doesn't matter what you think," she cut him off. "I know things aren't exactly stable in this world, but... I have faith in you."
Gathering her up into his arms, he decided that, even if he was fumbling around in the dark, he'd feel his way out if he had to. He'd keep walking his path and make the right turns as he came to them. After all, if Rinoa believed in him, he must be good for something, right? "Yeah," he said at last, his apprehension calming. "I have faith in you, too.
()()()()()()()()
He stared at the phone, the cause of his great mental debate, the source of his anguish and indecision. He owed them nothing. In fact, he had already given them more than he should have. So what was this feeling, this urgent need to help despite all that he had been put through in the past couple of days because of them, or, moreover, because of her? It was so painfully obvious that even he, the king of denial, knew that it was useless to lie to himself about it. He still cared about her.
Seifer wasn't sure how the tiny piece of information sitting on his desk fit into Rinoa's current predicament, but then again, maybe she knew more than he did. Maybe she had the rest of the pieces to the puzzle, and need only this one last thing to make it all complete. Sighing to himself he picked up the phone and dialed her cell phone number.
"Hello?" the word was accompanied by a small yawn, and without his permission, his mind wondered if she was sleeping alone.
Growling at himself to chase the thought away, he picked up the file in front of him and briefly scanned the information before saying, "Rinoa?"
"Seif-" she interrupted herself with a sigh, as if not wanting to say his name aloud. No, she was definitely not alone. "What do you want?"
"Sorry," he bit out, voice lacking a single trace of remorse. "Just thought you might want to know about your old boss's problem."
"What? What do you mean?"
"Cid Kramer. You've heard of him, right?"
"Yeah, of course, I used to work for him. What about him?"
"Well, I'm not sure what this means, but, apparently his daughter has been kidnapped. He didn't want that information leaving this station, and I get the feeling there's something he doesn't want to tell us. Does that make any sense to you?"
"I'm afraid not. But I'll keep it in mind. Listen, I've got to get going before someone traces this call or something. If I find anything out, I'll let you know. Thanks."
He hung up the phone and sighed again, wondering, not for the first time, what he'd done. What if Squall had been the one that kidnapped Cid's daughter? What if it was only a matter of time before he killed Rinoa, too?
A frown tugged at his lips, and he shook his head. "I guess I'll just have to have faith in her judgment."
()()()()()()()()
"Mr. Kramer goes home in the evening, around six p.m. Of course, there are guards around his office, so it won't be easy to get inside. The guards will change shifts at eight p.m. The door to the office will be unguarded for a total of two minutes, at least, that's the average." Margaret frowned and glanced around nervously. "That's the best I can do.""That's good enough," Isabella nodded. "Do you have the keys?"
"Yes, but... oh, if anyone ever found out I'd be fired for certain!"
"Look at it this way. Squall could be innocent, and this piece of evidence could prove it. You wouldn't want an innocent man to go to jail, or worse, get the death penalty, would you? Besides, this is for Rinoa."
Margaret sighed. "Yes, that's the only reasons I'm doing this. I don't want a guilty conscience... and Rinoa was an awfully nice girl."
"It's settled then," Isabella said. "It's seven forty-five now... it may be short notice, but we have to do this today. Time is against them, after all. Zell, are you ready?"
The blonde-haired man grinned and nodded. "Yep... I just hope those two are happy... spending the afternoon drugged is not my idea of fun."
"Don't worry. If nothing else, I appreciate it," she smiled. "Alright, now, watch the clock. At seven fifty-nine, exactly, you'll have to start throwing a fit, as planned. At seven fifty-eight, I'll go downstairs, like I'm going home from my visit, and take the key. By the time I get down there, Margaret will be calling all the extra nurses from the first floor to her aid. I'll stand there, acting confused as to what's going up upstairs, until the shift change begins. Then I'll sneak in, check Cid's vault, grab the tape and leave before the guards are replaced. Everyone ready?"
Her two reluctant companions nodded. "Great! Now we just have to wait."
At exactly seven fifty-eight, Isabella took the elevator down, and as usual, it went slowly, having to make several stops on the way. She smiled at each person that stepped in and out, trying her hardest not to show the anxiety building within her. If any of them were caught... The doors opened up, and as she stepped out onto the white linoleum of the first floor's main hallway, she heard Margaret's voice over the speakers, requesting help from all nurses. Immediately they poured from the various offices and halls they'd been in and piled into the elevators. Isabella paused in the hallway, glancing up at the clock there as she did. It was almost eight o'clock...
"Hmm... Wonder what's going on up there?" Isabella said, feigning absent-minded conversation.
The guard nearby shrugged. "No clue." He checked the clock. "Finally, I can get out of here."
Isabella headed for the door, watching from the corner of her eyes as the guards headed into their locker room. As soon as the last one was gone from her sight, she made a mad dash down a small side corridor to Cid's office, quietly closing the door behind her. With the key Margaret gave her, she opened the vault, where they'd decided he would have that particular tape kept, and sure enough, there it was, locked away with a few other tapes and files. She closed the heavy iron door back as silently as possible before heading out the door, and out of the asylum, tucking the tape beneath her bulky jacket as she did so.
By the time she had driven to her apartment, her heart had almost returned to its normal pace, at least until she remembered that she still had to watch it. Yes, she would watch it first and warn Rinoa, so that the poor girl wouldn't have to endure a terrible shock, were that the case. Popping the tape into her VCR, she watched intently, waiting... waiting until she saw another person enter the room where Quistis was combing over files...
"I should've known..."
A/N: Ooooh, cliffhanger! Sorry this chapter was kinda boring, and you had to wait so long. No inspiration, you know.
Next chapter: Well, after writing this one, I think I can safely say that next chapter is the last.