Out of these dreams -- a boat
I will sail home to you.
Chapter 8: Out of Dreams
Bella sat on the floor, her elbows propped on her knees, and raised a steamy cup of coffee up to her lips. She didn't like coffee but felt obligated to drink it because it was a gift. She cringed as the bitter brew slid down her throat and looked over the rim of her cup at Patrick Lee. His coat was laying behind him, a puffy pile of gortex, and he was leaning back against his hands.
"How's he doing?" he asked, taking a drink of his own cup of coffee.
"Better," Bella replied simply. She hadn't voiced her thoughts yet to Lee. She wasn't sure what to do about the sudden and shocking appearance of Seifer Almasy on the scene. She hadn't recognized him until he called her Quistis, and then the vague sense of familiarity came crashing into realization. One of the world's most notorious criminals was laying in the next room. He was an infamous traitor. He was an example at Garden of everything that could go wrong, a model of the self-destruction that came from not following orders and delusional aspiration. He was a frightening example of what could happen when a SeeD lost sight of what really mattered. And he was currently under Bella's care.
"Your Garden called my office earlier this morning," Lee informed her. "They're sending someone out later today to come get Darshan."
"Who are they sending?" Bella asked.
Lee looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't remember the name...sorry. A girl though."
"Mmm." Bella wasn't sure why she cared. At the back of her mind, she secretly hoped that Quistis would arrive on the scene to take care of things. It was obvious that she was the person the situation required. After all, she and Seifer apparently had some history that Bella was unaware of. Peeking into the room holding the man she'd been taught to despise made an uncomfortable heat drip down her spinal column. She felt like she was somehow committing some sort of sin by harboring him, but at the same time didn't know what else to do. She was sure his appearance was no mere coincidence, but she couldn't piece together how he had anything to do with a monster or deaths of people who were, to him, complete strangers.
She took another drink of coffee, making a face as it crossed her tongue.
"Look...Bella..." Lee leaned forward, crossing his legs and resting his elbows against his knees. "I know this is...just crazy. And I don't blame you for being off your game right now. But...you know...I'm here for you." He extended his hand toward her, his tan complexion staring expectantly at her from under bleached blonde hair. Bella stared at his hand for a minute, her mind coming to a stop.
"Are you serious?"
Frowning, he jerked his hand back. "No! ... I just meant..." His hand twitched nervously as he flopped it into the protection of his lap, still stinging with rejection. His thin mouth twisted into a little pretzel as he studied the floor, mumbling incoherent things until his voice finally just faded away and his jaw locked shut.
A wave of discomfort washing over her, Bella pushed herself up off the floor. "I'm just going to go...check on...you know." She swallowed and hurriedly turned her back on him. Could the man have picked a worse time to tell her about his feelings? She'd only just recently stumbled upon the bloody death of her partner. The blood soaked snow still flashed before her vision, which was why she hadn't yet slept. Her muscles were twitchy with sleep deprivation, and her eyes felt like they were sinking back into her skull. Surely her brain needed rest, and it was shriveling away under the strain. And she had other problems on top of that, she reflected as she stepped into the dark, sticky room holding the sleeping form of Seifer Almasy.
His head was lolled off to one side, his mouth hanging open slightly and just a little bit of drool on the starchy white pillowcase. She stepped up to his bed and looked over him, at a loss for what to do. She really had no authority to keep him. Garden hadn't ever brought up any charges against him, nor had any of the governments that had been involved in the war. And, despite an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach that his appearance was important, she couldn't link him to Darshan's death either. Other than that he'd been in the general area and may have seen something. That was the tenuous thread she held him by, and he could break it with one simple word. He could deny it, and what could she do?
Lowering herself down into her chair, she crossed her legs and leaned forward. "Seifer."
He stirred, rolling his head away from her.
"Seifer, wake up." Hesitantly, she reached out and poked him in the arm.
Seifer came suddenly awake, gasping. His green eyes rolled in his head until they came to focus on her, at which point a guarded and stony look settled down over his face. He swallowed once, his Adam's apple bobbing. Picking up the glass of water she had left sitting for him on the nightstand, she offered it as a sort of peace offering. Slowly, he took it from her and took a long drink.
"You realize that I'm SeeD?" she asked.
He nodded, looking pointedly at her uniform.
"My name is Bella," she offered.
"What Garden are you from?" he finally asked, laying his head back down.
"Balamb," she replied, watching him and debating what to say next. She decided to go with the blunt and the obvious. "You went there..."
He snorted. "Yeah."
Arching her eyebrow, she pinned him with a stare. "You called me Quistis."
He seemed to jump at this little bit of information. It apparently was a bit of a sore spot. He stared at her for a moment and then shrugged, attempting to be nonchalant about it. "So what? You look like her."
Bella leaned back, deciding not to tread into the personal territory that existed between him and Quistis Trepe. "I found you in the forest," she announced. "I need to know why you were there."
"I chop wood for the general store," he replied. "Holt lets me work behind his house."
"How come I haven't seen you around town?"
"Because I'm out in the woods chopping wood all day," he answered her sharply, giving her a look that clearly said he wasn't appreciating all her questions. "You've got no right to accuse me of anything."
"I'm not accusing you," she shook her head. "I'm just asking some questions. Seeing as I saved your life, I'd say you at least could give me some answers."
"Don't flatter yourself," he rolled his eyes. "You didn't save my life. The doctor in town couldn't handle a real emergency. I don't owe anything to you."
As cross as ever. Bella decided to just be honest with him. "My partner was killed out there. Shortly before I found you. I need to know what you saw, and how you got hurt."
Seifer's lips curled down into a scowl. "I'm not going to tell you anything. No matter what I say you're just going to turn it around. A dead SeeD and Seifer Almasy in the same place? We all know how that happened, don't we?"
"Maybe we do," she said slowly in return, drawing a long look from him. Perturbed with his stubborn unwillingness to help, she pushed herself up off the chair and sighed. "You have a point that everyone is just going to assume you played a roll in this. Maybe you should think about that for a while."
He snorted and turned his face away.
She grumbled and left, forgetting momentarily that Patrick Lee was waiting for her in the other room.
Seifer heard the front door close and laid still for a few moments before rolling out of bed. His thigh was stiff, but not very painful. There was really only one plus to his condition, and healing rate was it. Of course, he wouldn't need to heal fast if it weren't for all the other screwy things going on in his life. The blonde SeeD looked so much like Quistis to Seifer's weary eyes that it was hard for him to keep his sensibility about him when she was around. She brought back old, buried feelings to the surface. Even some Seifer hadn't truly suspected that he had. In any event, he wasn't at all comfortable under the same roof as her and he needed to get out.
All of her arguments to get him to talk, though astute, were effectively moot. He couldn't tell her anything because in reality he was the person who'd killed the SeeD. How could he possibly explain that he'd transformed into a monster, and that the process was now getting utterly out of his control? How could he tell anyone that Seifer Almasy, yet again, was a source of unbridled evil in the world? He didn't want to be that person anymore. He was tired of his past dogging him, and all he wanted now was release from the cycle he'd begun. He wanted out and away. Seifer could only imagine what a real life would be like.
Blinking once to steady his vision, he pushed himself off the bed and onto his feet. They were sturdy as ever under him, his weight pushing his boots down into the squishy carpet. Shifting his weight from leg to leg, he tested his resiliency and balance. Okay there...and okay there. He was ready to go. His coat was hanging on the back of the chair that the blonde SeeD had recently vacated. The downy, puffy garment wrapped around him, trapping warmth uncomfortably close to his body in the heated house. Hyperion, too, was there, resting against the wall.
When he stepped out into the hallway, he found it empty. The end of the hallway opened up into a rather sparse living room, which as far as he could tell was also empty. He thudded slowly down the hallway, slightly favoring one of his legs over the other. The living room opened up before him, a bare expanse of carpet and walls. An empty styrofoam coffee cup sat in the middle of the room, only half drained of it's dark brew. Seifer grimaced slightly at the site of it. He wasn't a coffee drinker and couldn't understand what anyone would find tempting about the bitter drink that was often so close to boiling that a person could only sip it.
He stepped over the cup and up to the door, which had been left unlocked. With a slight shudder of sick pleasure, he locked it on his way out, closing it firmly behind him. The day was surprisingly bright and crisp. His breath froze and floated around for fleeting moments every time he exhaled. A flash of shadow echoed out of the snow to the corner of his eye, and with a sort of familiar realization, he knew what it was. The wolves. They were always there with him, hovering about in his footsteps, watching him. And they were more present after the transformations, in his great times of need. He frowned and examined the empty space he thought he'd seen one in, not knowing where to take his thoughts on their odd presence.
"Where are you going?" A shrill voice called out from the street.
The blonde SeeD, standing decked to the hilt in her black and gold Garden coat and uniform. One of her mittened hands was extended out toward him, a little bump at the end obviously an accusing finger.
"You can't go anywhere! I'm not finished with you, yet!" She started up the walk, her face contorted in an unsightly scowl.
"You can't keep me here," he sturdied himself. "I'm fine, and I don't have anything to say to you. So I'm getting back to my life."
"Someone has died," she said, as if that thought would effect him.
"That's your problem," he pointed out.
"Reinforcements are due here any minute," she warned, jabbing at him with the finger again. "You can stay here, or you'll have all of SeeD on your tail. You are Seifer Almasy, you know!"
"Get out of my way," he warned, positioning Hyperion in front of him so she could clearly see it.
"Are you threatening me?" she gasped, outraged.
"Maybe I am."
"Maybe I should call Quistis here." Her eyes grew wide with the threat. "You want to see her, don't you?"
Seifer's breath was taken out of him by the comment, and he stumbled to find words for a moment. Deep in his peripheral vision, he saw another flash of shadow. Seeing that she'd obviously hit a nerve, the blonde stepped close to him and actually jabbed him in the chest with her hand.
"I could take you right back there to her," she announced. "I'm sure Quistis wouldn't mind throwing you in a detention cell like she always used to. Darshan is dead. My partner was ripped to shreds out there!" She pointed in the general direction of the woods. "And you know what happened! I'm not letting you go until I find out."
"I'm not staying here," he warned her.
"You're not leaving."
Seifer had to close his eyes to do it. As the woman stood in front of him, staring up defiantly, she looked so much like Quistis that he could practically smell her light perfume. He knew what he had to do, but he couldn't look her in the eye as he did it. His hand shot up sharply, bringing the hilt of Hyperion into contact with hard flesh. He heard something snap, and a cry of pain as she reeled away from him, surprised at the attack. He knew she would be, but he didn't have anything left to loose.
When he opened his eyes, she was cradling her jaw, which he supposed was probably fractured from the impact. Thick tears streamed down her cheeks, reeking of the pain that was racing through her body. He felt a pang of sympathy for her, but fought the desire to coddle her and instead took the opportunity to get out of town. As he passed by her, she held out her hand and attempted to cast a spell, but the words were garbled with blood and pain, and she slumped down into a feeble crouch on the sidewalk as he sped away. If more SeeDs really were coming, he had to get out of Trabia all together. And that left him only one option, the port town of Springdale on the other side of the pass. It would take him a good portion of the day to trek through the low, curvy trail, but the town was close enough that he could make it before daybreak. He didn't care where he ended up, he just had to leave.
His body was beginning to grow cold, and a revulsion crept over him, as he made his way out of town and along the gravel road marked by lines of thin poles meant to poke up above the snow. With every step, his self loathing grew, feeding the darkness inside of him until he could almost feel a separate heart beat from his own pounding inside the deepest recesses of his mind. He pinched his eyes closed and kept walking.
If he stopped, he'd be caught. They'd find out what he was, and he would become an object of ever increasing hatred for the filth that contaminated him. He was possessed of the worst sorts of evil. And though his will to go on with his life was beginning to wane, he under no terms wanted it to happen at the hands of Garden. They would probably prolong his misery to study him, or maybe even use him for their own benefit -- that sounded more like Garden.
Seifer stumbled on through the heavy snow. As the hours wore by and the sun dipped further toward the horizon, he began to feel the strain of the work on his recovering body. He knew that what he was doing was far from healthy, but dying wasn't a very healthy activity either. So he pressed on, his legs numb and aching. The longer he walked, the more he favored his good leg, leaving an lopsided trail behind him.
The wolves were still there, he could feel them now. He kept his eyes riveted forward, knowing he would never see them if he bothered to turn around. From somewhere inside of him, the thought burst forward that if he collapsed out there in the wildness, they would eat him. And that didn't seem like a wholly bad idea. It was the perfect way for Seifer Almasy to go. Frozen in his own desperate loneliness, torn apart by hunger and frenzy. It was almost poetic.
Night eventually fell, deepening the cold down to his bones. He'd stopped shivering at some point and now only drove on with a delirious kind of determination, stripped down to the stupid animal that existed at his core.
He wasn't quite sure when he reached the town of Springdale, or by what force he managed to keep himself moving. At some point, he fancied that he'd heard Ragnarok fly overhead, missing him in the trees. Ice crystals had formed on his face, crusted in his eyebrows and around his mouth. They stung his skin when he reached up to brush them off. Springdale shot up from nowhere in particular, a traditional little school house on the very edge of town that was white with green trim and had a little steeple with a bell. Seifer stood and stared at it for a moment before becoming lucid enough to make his way toward the docks.
This was a familiar process. He'd been through it a number of times before. Sneak onto one of the boats, hide with the cargo, escape as soon as the boat docks and hope nobody has the presence of mind to try anything noble.
The ship's giant shiny sails glinted back the few lights in the city. They were folded up in their resting position, the joints all wrapped up together like the wings of a giant metal dragon. He'd never actually seen them fully extended, and he distantly wondered what a ship looked like out on the open sea.
From the rise that led down to the harbor, he picked out a dark, abandoned looking ship that was bobbing between two empty docks. Wearily, he advanced toward it. The cold had made him clumsy, and he had to make a concerted effort to be stealthy. As it turned out, there was no reason to be particularly quiet, as the boat seemed utterly abandoned when he got up to it. The trust Trabians had in each other, due in part to their own isolation, was a constant god-send to Seifer, and all others who meant to do ill. Crime was easy there. And he snuck onto the ship without being noticed.
The cargo holds were already filled with crates that were strapped with yellow and black nylon ropes to the sides of the ship to keep them from jostling on the trip. Loosing more and more energy with every step, Seifer stumbled toward the back of the hold and crawled up on top of one of the boxes. With a sigh, he rolled over to the other side of it, landing with a thud behind it where he wouldn't be seen.
His consciousness rolled about dizzily, mixing dream and reality. He licked his lips, thought of Quistis and the boat...and always of Ultimecia. Finally beginning to shudder again, he dropped off into sleep, unaware of the two figures coming toward him and settling in warmly around him. One giant fuzzy form came to rest behind him, and the other in front, her muzzle resting in the crease between his arm and body. Seifer's unconscious shuddering slowed, and the subtle rocking of the boat lulled away the nightmares.