Thanks for reviewing! The comments are greatly appreciated, as usual, and sorry for the delay in updating. And yes, I decided AGAIN not to delete STLO, as I am scared of pissing off the fans, heh. I do appreciate everybody sticking up for it though; it really does mean a lot. I feel as though I need to touch back on the deep friendship between the gang and offer some more insight into Baralai's place in the story, so this chapter will be focusing mainly on that.
And to one reviewer who questioned why I mentioned that little drunken kiss between Tidus and Wakka: Don't read too much into it! I figured it would be funny and add a bit of depth to the friendship between them. Okay, I admit, I have a bit of a yaoi-fangirl streak in me, but I swear that I wrote it purely on a whim. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable. Which brings me to . . .
NOTE: It is not my intention to criminalize bisexuality in any shape or form. I personally have no problem with it (bunch of my friends are gay/bi), and I hope that I will not be offending anyone by including it in my story. I just thought it would put an interesting twist in the plot and be a little bit of a change from the norm. If it seems that I am putting it in a negative light, I sincerely apologize ahead of time and I hope it will not deter you from reading further. If you find that bisexuality is gross or upsets you, I am sorry but that is not my problem and all I can do is suggest that you stop reading now and go on with life. I do not and will not appreciate flames regarding my choice to incorporate it into this chapter, and possibly future chapters. EDIT: I made a few adjustments, thank you to Realities Knife for the advice! Much appreciated. I agree; the last line was kind of corny.
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TIDUS
To be completely and perfectly honest, I have never been inside an over-night cell before. I've visited the police station lots of times, to pull Wakka, Rikku, or Gippal out of the drunk tank, or to bail my dad out after a particularly wild night of partying. But in all my years of working the streets, vandalism, joy riding, thieving, and generally being a basic pest to society, I've never been detained for it. I always managed to ride off with just a warning, and in desperate times I have had to run away from the cops and hide until the dust settled and I would be forgotten.
And now I've screwed myself over. I was careless, I was reckless, and I got caught for it.
Jecht would be so proud.
The constable roughly shoves me through the open cell door rattles off a list of my rights and the regulations for staying in the station overnight. But I'm barely listening. All I cant think, all my mind is registering, is one simple question:
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
I had promised myself that I would not use a switchblade. I promised the gang, Chappu, and myself that I would never touch one again, especially to use it against someone else not in self-defence.
"You know, you're awfully lucky that old man decided not to press charges. If it were up to me, I'd throw you out of town on your ass in a heartbeat," the constable sneers, shutting the barred door in my face. "Just pray that somebody comes to get you by morning."
I just glare at him and keep my mouth shut. I've done enough mouthing off for one evening.
It had been almost too easy tonight. That old man just looked so oblivious, walking all by himself down 6th Avenue with his old cane and fat wallet bulging out of his coat pocket. I think I even heard him whistling under his breath, like he didn't have a care in the world. I saw him coming from across the street, and before I really had time to talk myself out of doing anything stupid, I remembered my earlier vow not to ask Yuna for money to get those Lotus Venom tickets. I refused to stoop low enough to beg for charity. I've never had to ask for gil in my entire life, and my selfish idiot pride forbids me from starting now.
I told the gang I needed to stop at my place to grab some gil so that I could meet them at 8-Ball's. After we separated, I found myself walking down the quiet streets with my mind wandering (okay, so I was actually thinking about Yuna. Sue me).
When I saw that old man, it was like rational thought had abandoned me, and greed took over. I jumped him. I've done it loads of times before, and this time was pretty much the same. Everyone is a potential victim, and this guy was a prime target. I walked towards him with my head down so I didn't look suspicious. I made like I was going to walk past him when the knife handle came out and I shoved it against him, keeping the blade tucked in for the moment. I had been careful to draw my hood up, and I was wearing a hat that made a lot of my hair fall across my eyes.
"Buddy," I whispered to him, "if you don't want my knife stabbing into your goddamn prostate, you'll hand over your wallet right now and you won't make a single sound. Got it?"
He went completely still; his eyes were fixed ahead like he was staring at a ghost, and for a long time he didn't move or say anything. I almost started thinking I had given him a stroke, or heart attack or something. Then he finally spoke, barely moving his old dry lips.
"Son," he said hoarsely, his breath smelling like cigars and scotch, "you don't have to do this. You don't have to threaten people this way."
"Shut up," I snapped, not wanting the truth of his words to ring in my brain. "Just shut the fuck up and give me your gil. You want me to cut you up? Is that what you want?"
"Listen to me," he started, but I interrupted him by applying more pressure to the knife handle. I saw him wince slightly.
"I said, hand it over."
Slowly he reached into his pocket and did as I told him. The weight of the wallet was satisfyingly heavy, and I quickly stuffed it into my jeans. "Good job, old man. You made this very simple."
"Look, young man, you need help. There are places you could go, where you can stay and get some education. You don't need to-"
"Yeah, yeah," I cut in, impatient to get lost. "I've heard it all before. But why go to all that trouble when gentlemen like yourself make it so damn easy?"
I should have left then. I should have just walked away without another word, making a safe getaway with a hefty supply of gil. But I didn't. Like the real moron I am, I just had to keep going, just had to press my luck.
He stared at me sadly. "Young man, when I was your age I would have killed for the chance to go to a good school. Why are you doing this? Why are you throwing your life away when you have so much potential?"
I smirked at him, tossing my switchblade up and down cockily. "Potential? For your information, I happen to go to a pretty decent school already, and it's been made very clear that guys like me have no potential whatsoever. Hate to burst your bubble, pal, but this is all I'm good for."
He just shook his head again. "You can't live your life like this," he said quietly, his eyes glued to mine. I was starting to get uncomfortable under his stare. He had really creepy pale green eyes.
"I can do whatever the fuck I want," I snarled, pressing the blade handle even harder into his lower stomach. He grunted in pain and stooped forward slightly. "I don't need decrepit bastards like you telling me how to live life. Got anything else to say before I leave?"
"Yes," he gasped, too frightened to move away from the handle. "You should know that there is a police officer walking towards you."
I sigh and let my head fall back against the cement wall, my legs drawn up as I sit on the rickety wooden bench. My eyes are closed; there's nothing to see in the cell anyway. There are only three other guys in with me, and none of them have said a word. One of them is asleep off to my left, and the other two are huddled together, talking in low voices. I can't hear what they're saying, but I don't care.
The old man proved to be surprisingly strong. The second I whirled around to face the cop, who was indeed hurrying in my direction, he hit me behind the legs with his cane so that I fell to my knees in a certain amount of pain. By now the cop was running, and had his club drawn out at the ready.
Instantly the switchblade opened, and the knife shot out with a satisfying click. I jumped up to my feet and tried to dodge off across the street, but the old man hooked his cane handle around my angle and tripped me, sending me down to the sidewalk again. I felt my jaw collide with the pavement and for half a second I am stunned with pain before my senses kick in again.
"Fuck!" I yelled, trying to scramble back up. But it was too late. The policeman grabbed me and threw me against the wall, forcing me to drop the knife. Pressing me against the bricks with one arm, he fished into my pocket and retrieved the old man's wallet, tossing it to him over his shoulder. The old man gazed at me with that stupid sad look on his face as he slipped the wallet into his jacket.
"I really am sorry, son," he told me, shaking his head. "But I think it's for your own good. Get some help for yourself. Officer," he said, addressing the cop now. "I won't be pressing charges. Just make sure the boy learns a good lesson."
"I'll deal with this little punk," the policeman said with a grim smirk, leering in my face. I let loose a string of colourful words, earning myself a well-deserved smack in the face with the club, right on my fresh forming bruise.
As the cop slaps handcuffs on me and drags me down the street towards his patrol car, I glance over my shoulder towards the old man. He is still watching me, a gloomy expression on his creased face. I wonder if he has the capacity to wear any other emotion. I glare at him and try to force his words out of my head, wondering why the hell a guy I just robbed would give a flying fuck about me and the life I lead.
The policeman shoved me into the back of the car and we screech off down the road. He was taunting me and calling me a good-for-nothing little shit, and all the while I was blocking him out.
We passed 8-Ball's, and as we did, I saw the gang standing outside waiting for me. Before I could lower my head and hide my face, Lulu caught sight of me and went even paler than she normally is. I saw her mouth my name and point at the car, drawing everyone else's gaze. Quickly I ducked beneath the window, feeling my face burn with shame. The last thing I wanted was to deal with their reactions later. I can't shake the feeling that by getting myself caught, I've let them down.
"Tidus? Is that you, man?"
My eyes snap open and I search the darkness of the cell around me to locate the source of that voice. It was a hushed whisper, but I feel as though I recognize it from somewhere.
I catch a flash of silver hair as the guy at my left sits up from his foetal position on the other bench.
"Baralai," I say, startled to find him here. "Yeah, it's me. What are you doing here?"
He gives me a rueful smile and rubs the corner of his eye sleepily. "Got caught breaking into a Mustang. I've been here for about an hour. You?"
I grimace. "Mugged some old guy and didn't see the cop coming up behind me."
Baralai winces sympathetically and shakes his head. "Maybe we're losing our touch or something," he says with a grim laugh.
"Maybe," I agree with a smirk. I note the glassy look in his eyes; his pupils look freakishly large, and when I lean forward a bit I catch a whiff of a very distinctive smell. I quirk an eyebrow. "Are you stoned?"
"A little bit," he admits with a half-grin. "But it's coming down now. I needed to cut loose tonight."
I nod and look down to inspect my hands. I know Baralai isn't much into drugs; if he of all people felt the need for a joint, something must have been seriously stressing him out.
An awkward silence falls between us. After a while I begin to wonder if Baralai fell asleep again, but then he speaks up, keeping his eyes on the floor.
"Look, Tidus . . ." he says with a sigh. "I'm real sorry about that day we jumped you. I know this won't mean much to you, but I did try to stop them. I kept telling Nooj it wasn't worth it, that we should just leave you alone. But he didn't listen. Anyway, I'm just sorry."
I regard him carefully. His silver hair is untidy and streaked with dirt (probably from wrestling with cops) and I notice several rips and tears in his vest. His jeans are stained with muddy water and grime, and for the first time I notice a bruise forming under his eye. Briefly I am reminded of the one growing on my jaw.
"I know you tried," I tell him at last. "But I'm not the one who needs your apology."
He glances up at me sharply, and I see a flash of understanding cross his face.
"I can't ask her to forgive me, man. What I did to you was low, but it's like I stabbed Paine in the back just as much. She loves you to death. They all do. There's no way I can even try to get close to her now," he says, furrowing his brow. "I've lost my chance with her. Even though Nooj let me leave, there's no point in-"
"Whoa, wait a minute," I interrupt, sitting up stiffly on the bench. "What did you just say? Nooj let you go?"
"Yeah," he replies, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. "Well, not exactly. Not yet, anyway. He's still considering it, but chances are I'll be able to leave. I've been doing some 'special favours' to help him make up his mind."
"Special favours?" I ask, feeling a strange sense of unease in the pit of my stomach.
Baralai fidgets and glances towards the end of the cell, where the two other guys are still talking. Then he looks out to see if the guards are near.
"I think you should know that first of all, I'm bisexual," he tells me, watching my face anxiously for some kind of negative reaction. I shrug and nod. Paine had told me this much a long time ago, but there's no point in revealing this to him.
"Fair enough."
He swallows and continues on, clearly relieved at my response.
"And you already know how Nooj usually gets LeBlanc to . . . do things for him?" he asks in a low voice. I nod, not at all surprised. LeBlanc is, after all, a bigger slut than Rikku could ever hope to be, and it's no secret she would literally do anything for Nooj.
"Well, it turns out LeBlanc has to deal with a little . . . shall we say, 'rash' . . . in a certain area. Nooj doesn't want to catch it himself, so he's been relying on other girls. When I approached him and asked him to let me go, he said that first I would have to do certain things for him while he made up his mind," he explains.
My eyes widen. "So, what . . . Nooj is using your sexuality against you?"
"I guess so," Baralai shrugs. "Either that or he's bi too. You can never really tell with him."
"And you were willing to go through all that?"
He nods and stares at me seriously. "I'd do anything to get away from him. He hasn't told me for sure whether I can go or not, but if I threaten to tell the others what's been going on, I might be able to blackmail my way out."
"Why?" I ask, unable to fathom the kind of courage it takes to put oneself through that situation.
"For Paine," he replies evenly, a small smile coming to his lips. "I swear to Yevon, Tidus . . . if there's any chance I could be with her, I'd fuck Nooj senseless to earn my way out. She's the reason I can face him everyday without fear."
"You should tell her that," I say, fighting a grin of my own. Although the mental images brought on from that little confession are more than slightly disturbing, it's relieving and oddly cute how devoted Baralai is to her. I know now with absolute certainty that of all people in the world, Baralai is the one I want Paine to be with. I know he would never hurt her. Any guy who'd willingly do . . . those things . . . to another guy just to leave a gang is bound to be loyal and dedicated. Paine deserves no less.
"I just might, if I ever get the balls to face her again," he says with a chuckle.
A loud metal clank draws my attention to the door. A guard is standing behind the bars, having just smacked one with his club to announce his presence.
"Hey, blondie," he grunts, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "You got visitors."
My heart flies up into my throat with happiness as I jump to my feet. I rush to the bars and struggle to peer around the corner as far as the barriers would allow. First I catch sight of Wakka, who is hurrying down the hall in front of everyone else. Then I see a glimpse of Lulu's black hair and Paine's dark grey hoodie pulled up over her head. I hear Rikku's high heels rushing forward and I can already smell Gippal's cigarette odour making its way towards me.
All five of them come to an unsteady halt in front of me, reaching through the bars to grab my hands or pat my shoulders. I feel indescribably glad to see them. I feel whole again. I'm rarely separated from them for long, but now that I'm with them once more I realize for the first time how scary it would have been in the cell alone. If Baralai hadn't been there for company, I would have been shaking with nerves. It's almost scary how dependent I am on them.
"Hey, guys," I say, my voice somewhat tight. Fuck, I hate getting emotional. Thank Yevon I'm not prone to tears. "Glad to see you."
"Tidus, dude, what the fuck?" Gippal stammers, gripping me by the arm tightly. Rikku is leaning through the bars as much as her skinniness will allow and kissing my face almost desperately.
"I was caught robbing some old guy, and-"
"Tell me you didn't use a switchblade," Lulu cuts me off, her voice edged with worry. I sigh and look away, struggling to find a way to say yes without having to glance back up and see that expression on her face.
"You son of a bitch," Paine growls, clasping the bars so that her knuckles go white. "You promised us, Tidus. You promised Chappu!"
"Look, I don't need this right now, okay? It was stupid. I fucked up over some gil for concert tickets, I know. I know I let you guys down. Just do me a favour and lay off for a while, please!" I snap, shifting restlessly under her judgement. She closes her mouth and her eyes soften.
"Sorry," she mutters, reaching into the cell to ruffle my hair. "I'll be good."
"You can bitch at me later," I tell her with a wink.
Suddenly her eyes drift over to catch sight of a familiar face staring at her with a pained hunger in his gaze. She stiffens.
"Baralai?" she whispers, completely forgetting about us.
"Hi Paine," he greets, standing up uncertainly. Paine blinks and then glances back at me questioningly. I nod at her and offer her a quick smile of encouragement. She pulls away from me and drifts down to the end of the cell, where Baralai is waiting to meet her. The rest of us turn away to give them some privacy, closing our ears (somewhat reluctantly) to whatever conversation is developing between the two. Briefly my mind wanders back to recap the discussion I had with him before the gang showed up.
Suddenly the door bangs open and our eyes fall to the entrance, where a new figure is standing. My lips twist into an unavoidable grin.
"Yuna!" I call, unbelievably glad to see her. I forget to be ashamed that she is seeing me in a prison cell.
But she does not look at me. Frowning, I look down and realize that she is carrying a huge black duffel bag in one hand, a determined expression on her face. She marches over to the desk where the guard is sitting, gaping at her in shock.
"M-Miss Ressan?" he stutters, sitting upright in his chair. "What are you doing here?"
Yuna strides forward purposefully and tosses the bag onto the desk, sending papers and pens flying galore. She folds her arms over her chest and gives the guard a serious look.
"Four thousand gil," she says in a business-like voice. "I believe that is sufficient enough to bail out my friend?"
The guard stands up hastily. "Uh, er . . . yes! Yes, plenty, Miss Ressan," he says quickly, gathering the duffel bag up into his arms.
Yuna's eyes flicker over to Paine and Baralai, and then it returns to the stammering policeman.
"I'll throw in another two thousand if you can get that other young man out as well," she proposes, nodding towards Baralai and pulling out a thick wad of paper gil from her inner coat pocket. The guard gapes at her, and then nods stupidly. "Good. Release them, please."
The gang steps aside as the guard springs into action, grabbing the cell door keys and shuffling over towards the sliding bar door.
As soon as the door slides apart, I find myself swept up in a massive group hug. Paine and Baralai give each other a tentative embrace, but when they pull back they are still standing remarkably close.
When everyone draws away from me, I find Yuna still standing near the desk, simply regarding me with a small smile on her face. I grin back and move towards her, pushing my way through the gang.
"Thank you," I whisper, pulling her into a quick hug. "I don't deserve what you did. You should have left me to rot here overnight."
I feel her smile into my shoulder. "A true friend would never do that," she says kindly. "Besides, it's been a while since I made a little trip to the bank. The employees were getting worried about me."
I chuckle against the side of her head and take a step back, still allowing myself the luxury of having my hands on her arms. But when the humour dies away, I suddenly remember where we are, and I feel myself frowning worriedly. The smile fades from her lips and she tilts her head to the side, staring at me curiously.
"Look, Yuna . . ." I begin slowly. "I, uh . . . I'm sorry you had to see me here. It . . . this isn't a usual thing for me."
Her expression softens. "Tidus, it's all right," she says swiftly. "I'm not here to judge you. I am just glad you're okay. You can tell us everything later, right?"
"Right," I agree, swelling up with pleasure on the inside. It is ridiculous how glad I am to know she's not angry or disgusted with me.
"Hey, Yuna," Baralai says quietly at our side. Yuna turns to face him and smiles gently.
"Yes?"
"Uh, thanks. I mean . . . you didn't have to do that for me," he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "It was real decent of you, you know?"
"Don't worry about it," Yuna says, patting his arm in an almost motherly fashion. I am both surprised and annoyed to feel myself bristling with jealousy at the short contact between them.
That is a problem, my friends. The second Tidus Lorac gets jealous is the day hell freezes over.