Trust My Heart
by: Angel Wings Rinoa (Cathy-chan)

Chapter 10: I Am Quistis

Quistis stood just outside the obscured passage Bradley had shown her. The world was reawakening before her. Over the cliff, she saw the sun's brilliance reborn again, as it was emerging from the grey-blue waters of the ocean.
More had awaken in the dawn than merely the sun.
She had made certain that their journey had not been tracked. Step by step, she had done an extensive version of the SeeD Field Procedure, a standard operation for high-ranking seeds to undertake in a field mission. She thought it was rather ironic to be utilizing the method when she had disrespected the first and indispensable rule: SeeD personnels must act in accordance to the instructions of the commanding and/or higher ranking officer. She shook her head wryly at the thought of Squall: after all that time I instilled the rules on him... She could almost see the look on the commander's face when he found that she had ran away with a supposed criminal.
Staying away from Bradley was necessary for the Garden and the rules' sake, but not for hers. Leastways, in her mind it didn't. Anyone could say she was endangering herself. That it was not worth risking her life for a man she barely known a couple of days, one who was suspected of a major vice. But she had grown weary of complying to other people's counsel, and obeying other people's rules.
What about her necessities, what she needed? What about complying to the yearnings of her heart instead of the demands of others? For far too long, people told her what to do, what to say, who to be and how to live her life.
No more.
No more tears. No more regrets and disappointments. The solution to all of her letdowns was so simple it nearly made her hysteric with laughter...or weeping...she couldn't tell which. It was her life. Hers alone. No one else's. Not anymore. She was not SeeD nor Ex-Instructor Trepe –that was what she did and had done.
I am Qusitis Trepe.
After taking a moment to watch the sunrise, she entered a large tear in the thin, metal wall. Curtained by vines and the dominating shadow of the Communications Tower, no one could see the tear unless they knew where to find it. A peculiar phenomenon about the tower's wall had been overlooked for several decades. Bradley had merely come across it by happenstance in his early teenage years (The most important discoveries are always found by accident! he had told her as cheerily as his injuries would allow him. Though it wasn't painless. My ol' clumsiness had its good and bad points.): between the dent and the inner wall was a path circling the outer circumference of the building. What was truly unsual was the difference in shape of the outer wall in comparison to the inner one. Beginning from the dent, the gap between the two walls was barely big enough to fit an adult person, but after a few feet or so, the outer wall straightens, thus the gap widens to a small enclosure. A civil skirmish involving old warring nations had demolished a section of the ceiling long ago. Daylight streamed from it onto Bradley's sleeping form.
Straight away at leaning his back on the mould-covered wall he fell asleep...or did he pass out? The latter was most likely true. Quistis didn't need to feel his injuries for herself to know that he must have felt excruciating pain. When (or if) she came back to Balamb Garden, she was going to shower Dr. Kadowaki with kisses for coercing her to undergo assistant nurse lessons. Bradley's life would have bled to the floor if the good doctor had not taught her how to stop the bleeding. She would have been more at ease if he was in the care of the expert physician. But she didn't want to risk meeting Bradley's attackers again. Moreover he was in no condition to travel. Hence she bandaged his wounds to the best of her abilities. She had to tear Bradley's shirt piece by piece to cover all of the blood. After re-bandanging his leg wound, she had found that the exertion at Dollet had re-opened it. It was unbelievable he didn't pass out much earlier.
Cold sweat ran down his forehead, his face contorted in anguish. Is he getting a fever? As she took off her gloves and wiped the sweat with her bare hands, his eyes swept open.
She was startled as Bradley snatched her wrist. No! You're not him! You're not him! he was directing a frantic, desperate fury and despair at a non-existent person in front of him. He was shouting the words as it could make the image behind his eyes go away.
Bradley, it's okay! It's me.
His death-grip on her wrist slackened. His eyes focussed on her shocked and worried face. I...I'm sorry, he mumbled as he let go of her. The direction of his eyes went to every direction except into hers. He chuckled unsteadily and said, S'rry. Th'boogies, y'know? Still distracted by the nightmare he added, Always there in my sleep... Quistis saw the flicker of ruefulness in his eyes. So...eh....how long was I
Not too long. You slept through the rest of the night, she anwered. She gazed at him for a while in concern then finally asked kindly and softly, ...Who's
Again his eyes darted to directions other than to her face. No one, he said almost incoherently. He couldn't manage to force himself to laugh again. Out of frustration at the phantoms still haunting his eyes, he balled his hand into a fist and slammed it hard on the wall behind him. A stab of pain shot through his whole body. He tried to reach behind him to one of the sources.
Don't move too much. You don't want to open that wound too. She gently lowered his arms, and laid him back against the wall. She stroked his arm tenderly and lightly. Just rest. It's a miracle you didn't die last night.
Aye. Miracle, he grumbled through his teeth. He was breathing slowly and evenly through his nose while his entire body trembled with supressed rage. She could see that he was forcing an inner dragon back.
...I'm going to see if there's anything here we can eat. If you need anything, just call me, okay? She straightened up and looked at him sadly one last time before walking away.

Quistis searched for edible berries on the grounds surrounding the Communications Tower. She found a few that weren't withering from the approach of autumn. She left Bradley's side knowing he wanted to be alone to control his demons for a moment. She herself had demons lurking within the shadows of her past, but it felt small in comparison to the anger and desperation within his. What did he see? Who or what was hurting him so badly?
Just when her brain was mulling over a possible answer, the man occupying her thoughts rustled through the vines. There was a cold and livid tinge surfacing beneath his tan, and a frailty stealing the hardness in his muscles. Her hands flew to her mouth when he came close to falling face first on the uneven ground.
Naturally, she blurted out her honesty in a rush of dismayed anger. What in the world are you doing walking about!? Stop this and go back inside. Now!
But all of her bossiness couldn't provoke an answer. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. It was strange; even while enduring the most tormenting moments of his injuries, he still took notice of her with a small grin or an encouraging nod. Every step he took was a battle to stay upright.
She stopped drifting towards him when a quick breeze revealed his still face.
A scream was lodged in her throat. For the first time in her life, she was truly, deathly afraid. His face never moved or flinched as his leg wound began to bleed and re-open. He looked like a corpse possessed, a dead man walking. The storm in his bluish-green eyes was summoning a dragon slumbering beneath the sea.
Distantly, Quistis heard a sound. At first she thought she was imagining it. But the sound came again, this time louder and directly above them. It sounded like some kind of large creature. She felt her heart contract with pity, at the same time as her body froze with fear. It sounded furious...but sad....unbearably sad.
She turned to look at Bradley and saw his eyes crying out the same sorrow.
The creature cried out a third time. There was something different about its call. She lowered her eyes in time to see Bradley was one step away from the precipice. Arms outstretched to the sea, he lifted his bound leg to take the next stride.
Panicking, Quistis did the only thing she could think of doing: as loud as her vocal chords could suffer she shouted his name.
His body spasmed, then stiffened
Quistis bounded to him as he fell. She caught his taller heavier form, thanking her fortune he had fallen sideways, not forward. She placed him on the ground as carefully as his weight and her strength would allow.
She brushed away the long bangs covering his sweat-covered, cold face after lying his head on her lap. Aside from the blood running down his leg, he looked as if he never left the concealed niche. She gazed across the sea to the cloudless horizon. Her breath came fast, the fingers on his forehead were shaking.
She had wanted to know Bradley more; to know the other sides of his personality. Apparently she just did. She had been introduced to his dragon.

You four! Keep up!
Dun worry. the oldest one answered. We were born near here remember? I'd be more worried about yer sorry arse. They say a huge dragon lives in these woods.
Ooooh, sceewwiiie! the two boys beside him howled in unison.
The senior student's face boiled instant red. D-Don't make me report you to Headmaster Martine!
Tha' stiff-arse twit?the oldest of the four scoffed. Ooh, whot's he gonna do? Spank me? Soak me poor, shitty uniform in his poor, shitty wine!?
The comrades roared with laughter and hooting cheers. They did a mocked dramatization of the headmaster spanking the oldest student.
Ow! Tha' he squealed tauntingly as he watched the senior tsk' in disapproval and walk away.
Before he was too far away, the senior thought to have the last word. You no-good-Galbadian jerks are worthless, he spat. Ya hear that!? Worthless! You couldn't summon Tonberry King if you defeated 54 of his minions! Don't know why Headmaster Martine would every let your lot be accepted into SGS. And don't think nobody's going to hear about this. The tempestuous senior sniffed proudly, pivoted and stomped off. As he did so, they could hear him mutter, Where are those Balamb jerks? They're suppose to be taking care of these jerks! They better not be slacking because–because I'm gonna.......Why me? Why...
Pah! Grandonians. Think they're so ot cause their Garden's so new an' shiny. I ope someone would blow their blewdy Garden up so they get whot's coming to them! He flipped the middle finger at the retreating senior.
Ey, don't talk like that. Nobody deserves that, the fourth one chided. He was the youngest boy and the only one of the four that didn't participate in his friends' entertainments.
Aye, The oldest one chuckled. He poked the other boy smartly on the forehead. Says the brat who's got his head stuck in Guardian Forces: from Ice to Needles'.
The youngest one shook his head vehemently. No way! My head ain't stuck in this! he waved the incredibly thick and wordy book to the older boy. How can I? It's so innacurate! From Ice to Needles'? Please! There's more to Guardian Forces than Shiva and Cactuar. He glanced down at his shoelaces. Twas the only book in the library detailed nuff for an interestin' read.
The older boy raised an eyebrow. ...Ye some kind of expert now?
N-No!......At least not yet.
Raddy, Raddy, Raddy... the oldest one sighed. When are ye gonna learn that GFs are not for studying? They're for using. Ye use em. There's no dif tween a Gunblade Specialist from a GF Specialist. He sniggered and poked the other two with his elbows. Actually there is. Ours stink when ye let em out.
The two answered with nods and obnoxious laughter.
The youngest one scowled sourly. C'mon, guys. Ye must've realised that Guardian Forces are extraordinary and amazing creatures by now. Haven't you learned anything from SGS?
Nope. Not much dif between a fossil we found near Shumi Village to nother one we found at Chocobo Forest –those tests are so tricky and useless, eh?– But I'm still passin' with flying colours cause I know ow to make the live ones obey. I got yer father to thank fer that. He taught me well. The older boy laughed cruelly.
The image of the boy's father flashed before his eyes. You Galbadian students're too soft on yer GFs. In Grandon, they really teach ya ow to make em styoopid things work.
The boy had watched his father's lesson to his friend. Grandon's expertise lay in training SeeDs how to GFs. From what the young boy observed, Grandon's technique was very simple: during the battle to test one's worthiness to acquire the GF, the Grandon SeeDs cast extremely torturous Magic at the creatures several times until it yields, and agrees to do whatever the SeeD command it. It was simple, but it made him sick. It made him had nightmares of screaming things.
One day, soon after, he saw his father using the same technique. It was late one night at their home and he heard loud noises coming from the backyard. The young boy hid behind the screen door. His father kept hitting and scoffing at the screaming form below him until he was given complete obedience. Except the form was no GF, but the anguished screams were the same....
The young boy wanted to cry out...

No! Not him! Not true!
Bradley! Bradley!
He saw a blurry figure: a golden-haired, young woman, then, a few minutes later, an impression of something tall, mouldy...and rusted. Slowly his mind re-sharpened a little more, and with it came the outpour of aches and pains all over his body, the foremost and strongest being the one in his leg.
Are you all right? You were calling out in your sleep again.
A dream....? It didn't feel like a dream; it felt more like a memory. Yes, it was definitely a memory. The day his Specialized Guardian Force Studies class went to the outskirts of Dollet was imprinted clearly in his mind. It was the day he tripped on a pebble and fell bottom first into a small cave. Poking out of its dry, dusty earth were the remains of an ancient GF that looked like an ancestor of Bahamut...or Leviathan...maybe both. Though it was far larger than the two combined.
But what about the image of his father hitting–?
No! It can't be. He'd never... he blurted out before realising he spoke out loud.
He'd never' what? Who are you talking about?
Nuthin'. Jus' a dream, like ye said, he mumbled. Just a dream... he mouthed to himself, still unconvinced.
Then he really noticed Quistis and he blushed. ...Where's yer shirt?
Quistis turned as pink as her lacy, rose-adorned bra, which was too revealing for her (and his) comfort. I...I couldn't find anything else to staunch your wounds. Even with most of her torso exposed, she was still able to look infuriated and autocratic. You almost bled to death –again!– thanks to your...your antics!
Glancing around his body, Bradley found half of her sleeveless, orange-pink shirt around his leg, and the other half wrapped around the top of his arm. He looked at her quizzically.
You know. Walking about, scaring me half to death by nearly falling off the cliff?
Bradley was silent and perplexed.
...Don't you....don't you remember what happened? When he continued to wear a confused look, she became uneasy. She wrapped her arms around her belly. Then, in a wary and careful voice, said, You –I don't know what you were doing precisely, but you were....I couldn't believe you could still stand up and walk! There was this...this thing that called out....It all felt so tense....and chilling.
I...I don't remember any of that. I remember falling asleep after you went outside again. He frowned hard, going through the events in his head. But his mind kept coming back to his father hitting– Then more calmly, No, I...I really can't remember.
Quistis looked blankly at a spot behind his head. She inhaled a deep breath. ...That's all right. Besides, what matters more is that you recover. Oh. Here. I almost forgot about these. She picked up the berries clustered on her lap. Eat. It'll help you get stronger.
Bradley nodded, but he didn't move further. She saw that he was distancing himself. He was holding back from her; more so than he had done the previous times. He was looking down at his hands, his body still. She could understand if there were personal things that were too deep to divulge, but now he was keeping everything back. It was starting to irritate her. In a louder, angrier tone she repeated her command, Eat! I'm not going to have you shrivel on the spot.
The tone of her voice snapped him out of his daze.
Open your mouth.

Now please.
I can do it myself–!
Her gaze lashed as sharply at him as her whip. Now please.
He grunted. Slowly and crabbily he opened his mouth. Quistis popped a berry in it.
You can hardly lift a finger let alone an entire hand. Now chew.
Don't have to tell me that. It's in, see? Aaah. he growled peevishly, his tongue stained in bright, purple juices.
Quistis bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. Wouldn't do for an authoritarian to suddenly giggle. Better. I'm going to help you eat all of these. She added snappishly: And I mean all! I'll be making sure you eat -every- -little- -piece-. And don't even think about moving or trying to stand up. I don't have any more clothes to wrap your foolishness in.
He blew a grumpy snort through his nose. She dropped two more into his mouth. As he chewed, he said sarcatisally, Oh, absolutely. Then after a blink of his eyes, to her amazement, his lips lifted on one side to crooked grin. His eyes strayed mischievously to her remaining piece of substantial clothing. Heaven forbid ye use yer skirt. I would not want ye deprived of that, milady.
She was left without words for an instant. Then, coolly, she leaned close to him, placed a hand on his thigh, and purred smoothly, Or I could use your pants. Has more material, after all.
Bradley gulped the two berries in. After that, Quistis had no problem feeding him the fruits.

Quistis awoke sharply, her heart hammering and tense. She looked about, but found nothing that could have disturbed her sleep. Beside her on the wall, Bradley snored soundly and peacefully away from his hurts. It was the first time he had slept without stirring or talking. She attributed his quiet slumber proudly to the nourishment she him to eat before they both dozed off from fatigue. But she was in no mood to reminisce; her senses were troubled. She had no doubt that something jolted her conscious. Blood pumped through her body fast, demanding more air in preperation for an unseen danger.
So far her intuition had proven true and firm. It was time to test its loyalty again. Furtively she stood up and skimmed her fingers on the whip wrapped around her waist. With cautious and deliberate steps she entered the path exiting the walls. The light fleeting below the thick vines hinted orange before dimming into dull violet. Evening had come. Outside, she could hear nothing but the breeze playing lazily with dirt and leaves. Around her body, she heard the loose dust being blown aside as the thumping of her laborous heart counted the long seconds she stood listening.
Nothing disrrupted the hush of the breeze...so far, she warned herself. Counting to three, she unfolded her leather weapon, swept the vines apart and strode forward into the dying sunlight.
A zephyr cooled her exerted, flushed face, and a chickadee chirped a tiny song.
Nothing.
She was about to chide herself as a ridiculous woman giving in to notions of paranoia when her ear caught the sound a minute, metal click. She looked about, angry at herself for not marking its exact location. Nevertheless, she had identified what made the sound. She had been near its two wielders too much to fail recognizing the weapon. Thus its keeper could only be two people, and to her, neither one was good news. She was berating herself again. This time it was for not being distrustful enough. Now whoever stood away from her sight knew her whereabouts. Moreover, if he had a good view, she had also betrayed the secret passage to her companion.
Seifer or Squall, she didn't care. She didn't give a damn whether they used words, rules or weapons against her either. No one, not even one of the gunblade specialists of Balamb Garden, was going to take Bradley away from her. She was Quistis. She knew what she wanted, what she needed.