Alone and Together
By The Other SeeD
Author's notes: One of my strongest and most valued personal beliefs is a belief in individualism. That is, being able to take care of yourself with minimal or no help from others, and also being strong enough to make your own decisions without seeking too much advice from friends. I realize that this is not always possible, and sometimes (especially in a game like Final Fantasy) working with others can have unbelievably rewarding results. So I decided to put both ideas in a practical context—a fanfic—and see how they work with each other. I also wanted to develop further adventures for my created character Serrus, and the possibilities concerning his relationship with Quistis. Enjoy!
Warnings: More of my usual descriptive violence and bodily destruction here. A bit of strong language about two-thirds through the story. Finally, at the very end…well, you'll see. Don't worry, I kept it light.
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"Careful now," Quistis Trepe said, keeping her eyes on the growling T-Rexaur in front of her. "He's coming towards us…watch his eyes and tail…"
Serrus Leonhart nodded, though he almost immediately realized that Quistis wouldn't see the gesture. Both had their eyes riveted on the massive creature slowly stalking up to them. Serrus held the Lion Heart gunblade firmly with both hands.
"He's stopping," Quistis said quietly. "Now would be a good time for a sudden—Serrus!"
Serrus had leapt upwards at the T-Rexaur's face. The Lion Heart glowed bright blue in his hands as he swung it in a huge, sweeping upward slash. There was a flash of azure and gold, a bang, and the T-Rexaur keeled over backwards, knocked out.
Serrus dropped back to the ground, breathing hard. He turned and looked back at Quistis, not with the cocky grin she had gotten from some students who thought they were invincible, but with a neutral, respectful gaze, waiting for further instructions.
Quistis sighed good-naturedly as she stowed her combat whip back into her belt. "Come here, Serrus," she said.
As Serrus approached her, she had to make a conscious effort not to stare at his face. His appearance really was a handsome blend of both Squall's and Rinoa's features; and with his gaze, Quistis was somewhat uncomfortably reminded of Squall's brown eyes looking impassively at her, long ago.
"That was a good attack," she said. "Sudden, fast, and powerful. There's just one thing: you didn't quite wait for my go signal."
Serrus lowered his head slightly. "I'm sorry, Instructor. I thought that at that point, a surprise attack would—I'm sorry. I should have waited for your command."
Quistis looked kindly at him. "You thought right about using a surprise attack, Serrus. I wasn't surprised that you went ahead without my signal—and it really was going to be just a signal, and not a command. I'm more surprised that you were willing to attack without my help. And please, call me Quistis. We're friends."
Serrus nodded slightly. "All right—Quistis. Listen, when I went ahead to attack—it wasn't bravado or anything. I really just thought that I should go ahead. I felt I could do it alone."
Quistis reached out and almost touched him, but then thought better of it and drew her arm back. She hoped he hadn't noticed the gesture. "I know it wasn't bravado, Serrus. There's so much more to you than that. Let's go to my office and talk some more. It's not wise to stand talking around a T-Rexaur that could wake up at any moment."
Serrus laughed at that. He and Quistis walked out of the training area. The unconscious T-Rexaur snorted, and fell quiet again.
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After they had both cleaned up, Quistis led Serrus inside her office and closed the door. She thought for a split second of locking it, but pushed the idea away. It wasn't like they were going to do anything…private.
When she turned, she found Serrus standing and looking at her. Respectful as always, he had not taken a seat without her invitation. Quistis smiled and poured them both glasses of wine.
"Sit down, Serrus," she offered. He took a seat in front of her desk, and she, feeling that there was no need for formality, sat on the edge of the desk itself. They both sipped their drinks, and when Serrus had lowered his glass, she said, "Have you always lived that way? Alone?"
He might have been startled or even offended at the bluntness of the question, had he not seen that she was smiling as she asked it. He lowered his glass a little more and said, "Until you and Irvine picked me up at Balamb town…yes. Obviously, for all that time, I had no…" His voice trailed off.
"No parents," Quistis finished quietly for him. "I'm sorry."
He simply nodded and looked down at his glass.
Quistis went on. "It's perfectly natural, Serrus, for a person who has lived alone to want to fight alone as well. Being able to keep yourself alive without help can develop a strong feeling of self-reliance in a person. You feel that you can get by alone in life. That feeling extends even into a combat situation—which, after all, is a fight for that same life."
He nodded again and looked up at her. "Good point."
She smiled, and almost reached out to touch him again. "But Serrus, there's no need to think that way anymore. You're here now, in a place with friends. People who can and will help you, and who look up to you. You have—"
"A home," he said, smiling slightly. "I've felt that, Quistis. And I can't say how grateful I am."
Quistis turned slightly away; she was sure that she was blushing furiously red. She partly wished he would stop smiling at her, and yet another part of her, an ember of her lonely soul glowing in a dark corner, desperately wanted him to keep doing so.
Serrus spoke again. "I hope you'll forgive my combat attitude. You're right…it's just a way of life I'm used to. If it would conform closer to the Garden's protocol, I'll work more closely with teammates."
"I don't want you to do it if it's just for the sake of protocol—anyway, there's no solid Garden rule about combat procedure. I'd like you to make your own choice, whatever works for you."
He nodded his appreciation and sipped again. A moment later he said slowly, "There's something about working and fighting alone, something…absolute. There's something very sure and deliberate about it. When everything's up to you, you're forced to do your best—but more than being forced to, you want to do your best, because you're all you've got, and you might as well do it right. And that way, there's no one to help you, but at the same time there's no one there to mess it up for you. It's an all-or-nothing way of doing things that appeals to some people."
Serrus looked up, wondering how Quistis would react. She nodded and said, "Go on. You're on a roll."
Serrus nodded back and spoke again, in a steady voice. "I've seen people who believe—or seem to believe—that working with others is always the best option, always better than going solo. But I disagree. I remember one time, before you and Irvine found me: another street kid and I were going to steal some food from a restaurant. We drew up a careful plan, but when the time came—well, he screwed his part up. We both got caught and nearly went to jail."
His voice now carried a bitter tone. "That's one good thing about working alone—maybe the best thing. You never have to pay for someone else's mistakes. And people make mistakes all the time."
He looked up again at Quistis, suddenly worried that he had said too much, or said it too strongly. Quistis said nothing, but nodded in understanding, and sipped her drink. Serrus sighed and did the same. A while later, feeling that he should say something to give her some part in what was becoming a monologue, he asked, "Are you used to working with a team?"
"Yes," she said steadily, but in a friendly tone. "Ever since I was on Squall's team twenty-five years ago. There are so many situations in which having no teammates to work with means defeat. I saw a lot of that twenty-five years ago."
"I felt it when you and Irvine rescued me."
Quistis, who had been starting to feel gloomy after Serrus' earlier spiel, felt her cheeks growing warm yet again. She relaxed and raised her glass in a casual toast. "I told you…anything for you, Serrus."
He smiled ever so slightly, and stood up. He walked to Quistis' desk and placed his empty glass on the table. As his hand passed close to hers, she ached with an impulse to touch him. But a moment later, her apprehensions were, strangely, both quieted and ignited; for he had touched her himself.
"Thank you, Quistis," he said softly. He turned and left the room, closing the door quietly and neatly behind him.
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When Quistis awoke the next morning, her mind drifted immediately to what had happened the day before. As she dressed and made her way to her office, she wondered for a moment if it had merely been some sweet dream; but then she saw the two empty wine glasses still on her desk, and smiled. Lying beside the two glasses was an envelope marked with the Balamb Garden logo. Quistis put the glasses away and opened the envelope.
It contained orders for a mission: a one-shot contract assignment. The Garden had been requested to provide on-site escort for a train travelling from Balamb town to Timber. Also in the envelope was a note from Headmaster Cid, saying that he had personally recommended Quistis for the assignment, and that she should take a partner of her choosing.
Quistis smiled in satisfaction. She knew, of course, exactly who to take.
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As dusk settled over the town, Quistis and Serrus bought tickets—being a train marshal didn't exempt you from payment—and boarded the train at Balamb station.
"Okay," Quistis told her partner as the train let out a whistle and started moving. "I think it would be best if we split up and patrolled the train cars separately. You can have the three cars in front, and I'll take the three at the back."
"Oh," Serrus replied, looking disappointed yet accepting, "I was hoping we could sit together and talk some more."
Yet again, Quistis was sure her face was turning red. "So was I, Serrus. But it would be better if we stayed apart and alert for now. I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize," he said, almost flashing that smile again.
"I'll tell you what," she said. "After this escort job, we'll find a place to eat and talk at Timber. Deal?"
"Deal," Serrus said, really smiling this time. He shook her hand playfully, and left for the front of the train.
Quistis sighed softly in pleasure, and then left for the three cars at the rear.
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After a few hours, walking back and forth between the seats became extremely monotonous. Serrus was getting bored, and didn't really feel like chatting with the passengers. He touched the huge leather sheath at his side, wherein he could feel the Lion Heart resting, and tried to stay alert.
Half an hour later, he made up his mind to visit Quistis in the back. He was on his way when the train suddenly jerked, as if it had hit a notch in the track. The lights flickered and then turned off; it was night outside, and the train was plunged into darkness. A few passengers yelled and screamed. Serrus, no stranger to fear, regained his balance quickly and instinctively drew the Lion Heart from its sheath. Even in the darkness, the blue blade glowed faintly, reassuring him. He could hear and feel that the train was still moving.
He stood still for several seconds more, scanning the dark compartment and waiting for his eyes to adjust. When he could see a little better, he noticed several passengers lying stunned and moaning on the floor. He stepped to the nearest one and began helping her up.
At that instant, the window directly beside Serrus shattered inwards as a human figure burst through it. Serrus dropped the passenger and brought the Lion Heart upwards to block, but it was too late. The figure slammed into him, knocking him against the seats on the opposite side. The passengers screamed again.
Miraculously, Serrus was able to keep hold of his weapon. He rolled to his feet as the figure charged him, drawing a sword. Serrus dashed forwards to meet the attack. The two swords slammed together with a blue flash and an ear-splitting bang of steel on steel. Serrus pushed the other man off; the latter stumbled and fell to the floor.
Serrus leapt in a somersault, aiming to drive his weapon into the fallen man's torso. As far as he was concerned, this was an attacker, and had to be neutralized as quickly as possible.
But the man was quick enough to swing his own sword in a sweeping upper block that met the Lion Heart in a solid parry. Serrus felt his own momentum overbalancing him, and he fell too far and landed near the other man's head. Instinctively, Serrus brought his weapon up to block as the other man swung his sword down for a killing blow. There was another blue flash and bang, and this time it was Serrus' opponent who was knocked backwards and slammed against a wall. Before he could recover his balance, Serrus was up and charging towards him.
With a savage battle cry, Serrus plunged the Lion Heart into the man's chest. More than hearing it, Serrus could feel in his arms and chest the crumpling and utter disintegration of his enemy's ribcage as the gunblade ran him through. The man bellowed in unspeakable torment as the Lion Heart sliced through him so completely that it pierced the train wall he was being pushed against. Gritting his teeth, Serrus twisted the Lion heart sideways, opening a dinner-plate-sized hole in the man's torso. Serrus caught a glimpse of his shredded heart and lungs, all still pumping and writhing fruitlessly, before a waterfall of blood gushed out of the hole and covered the floor of the train car.
With a final, straining effort, Serrus pulled the Lion Heart in an upward slash. What was left of his opponent's upper body was sliced vertically in half, entrails spraying out like confetti at a child's birthday party. The mutilated corpse fell into a thick pool of its own blood and gore. The wall behind was smeared red, dripping, and had a long vertical gash made by the gunblade.
What was left of Serrus' rational mind at this point thought that he should feel horrified by what he had just done. But he didn't. He felt focused and calm. He turned away from the corpse and, amid the passengers' frantic screams, made his way down the corridor towards the back of the train.
In the next train car, he encountered two more attackers.
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With the first hard jerk of the train, Quistis had tripped and fallen on the floor. It didn't help her disorientation when the lights turned off as well.
As she slowly stood up, she felt rough arms grab her from behind. A quiet voice said, "Don't move."
Quistis froze, her heart pounding. She had been taught techniques of escape from such situations, but as she was considering them she saw another figure advancing towards her in the darkness. It would be nearly impossible to fight two at once in the cramped, dark cabin. It was now or never.
She moved her foot carefully until she felt the foot of the man who was holding her. She drove down onto it with as much force as she could muster, and snapped her head back to hit his face. She felt her attacks connect as the man shouted and released her. She whirled around and rammed her open palm into his face, right on the nose. He was killed instantly.
The other man grabbed her shoulders from behind, but she took hold of his right arm, dropped to almost a crouch, and sent him sailing over her shoulder in a perfect martial arts throw.
She heard a door open behind her and turned around quickly. She could see three figures in a scuffle—and the glow of a blue blade.
"Serrus!" she yelled. She started to run towards him to help, but again she felt herself grabbed from behind. "Serrus!"
"Quistis!" he shouted. He tried to dash towards her, but was elbowed in the back by one of his attackers. He fell, cursing, still trying to reach Quistis.
Quistis felt pressure at the sides of her neck, and then numbness overcoming her. She struggled a little more, and then blacked out.
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She awoke, and immediately noticed that she was tied to a hard chair. There seemed to be a light coming from somewhere above, but everything around her farther than a few feet was shrouded in darkness. She could not move.
She could hear a rumbling and feel a steady movement all around her. She decided that she had not been unconscious for long, and was still on the train, probably in a baggage compartment.
A man stepped into the light in front of her. He wore a dark, well-fitting jumpsuit, on which hung several pouches and pockets. He also wore a balaclava. All Quistis could see were his eyes. She glared into them and said, "Let me go."
"You're our hostage," he said simply. "Your words will be limited to what we tell you to say."
"Let me go!"
He stepped closer to her and placed one hand behind her head, and the other a little lower, just under the back of her neck. He jerked her upper body forty-five degrees downwards, and simultaneously drove his knee into her chest. She cried out in pain and slumped forwards.
"Your words will be limited to what we tell you to say."
She looked up at him again and said nothing.
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Serrus jerked awake. He was breathing hard, and could feel sweat on his arms and back. He didn't even remember being knocked out. He was still on the train, and the lights were back on.
He was lying on his front side, and he could see several others lying beside him, moving fitfully. Automatically, he tried to stand up, and grunted in frustration when he realized his hands were tied behind his back.
He felt something like a boot slam into his back, shoving him back down to the floor. A voice said, "Shut up."
If Serrus could have looked upwards at the man, he would have killed him with looks alone. But he couldn't face upwards. He took deep breaths, trying to control himself.
When he felt a little more calmed down, he took a slow, careful look around him. It looked like he and the train's passengers—or some of the passengers—had been crammed into one of the train cars. They were lying in a tight column down the length of the corridor between the seats. Guards with guns stood at either end of the human column, never taking their eyes off the hostages.
Escape was the only option. He would not allow himself to be captured, and he had a feeling that the longer he waited for a good opportunity, the worse the situation would get. He had no idea if the train was still going to Timber, or if it had changed course.
Serrus turned his head discreetly to one side. He found himself facing another passenger, a man whose eyes were half-closed. He was breathing. "Hey," Serrus whispered. "Are you awake?"
"Yeah," the man said quietly. He closed his eyes completely.
"We have to do something about this."
The man nodded, almost imperceptibly. "I saw you earlier. You know how to fight. You can think tactically. What's the plan?"
"Give me a few minutes," Serrus whispered back. He tried to analyze the situation.
First, the good news. Serrus did a quick count of the passengers on the floor and arrived at around twenty. It was hard to see, but he was almost certain that most of the hostages, including the two people at either end of the human column, were still awake. If he could somehow get in contact with them all, he might be able to coordinate something. As long as things stayed discreet, the guards might not notice. It had to be hard for two people to scan twenty without missing a few things, and the train was noisy enough to mask quiet talk.
And then the bad news. The two guards had guns, and they were standing at either end of the car. A single burst of gunfire from them both would cut down everyone on the floor. And they never stopped looking at the hostages, not even for a second. They didn't wander around, turn their backs, or get bored. And Serrus suddenly noticed, with a surge of apprehension, that all the hostages had their hands tied behind their backs.
Serrus began to form possibilities in his mind. They would have to attack the guards, of course. Since the guards were armed, it would have to be a surprise attack—and a fast one. It would have to happen at the same time at either end of the column. The hostages would need some sort of weapon, something he was sure they all had.
Serrus used his fingers to feel the material that tied his hands together. It felt like thick rope. It would be possible to use that as a weapon, something to strangle with—but it would have to be at the front of the body, not the back. That was a complication.
Serrus arranged two lists in his mind: one for priority, another for procedure. For priority, it was surprise, speed, and effectiveness. That was what the attack had to have, in descending order of importance. More than anything, it had to be a surprise. When the guards were surprised, the hostages would have to attack with speed. Finally, the attacks had to be effective: distracting at worst, lethal at best.
Now for procedure. Serrus took a look at the second person from either end of the column. He was relieved to see that both were slim women. He would need that.
In another five minutes, Serrus had his plan. He turned again towards the man beside him. "I've got something."
The man, with eyes still closed, nodded.
"Pass this message down your half of the column," Serrus said, "and let me know when everyone's got the message and is ready."
The man nodded, opened his eyes, and began to relay Serrus' instructions. Serrus passed the same message down the other end of the column. The guards did not notice.
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The beatings had continued, for no apparent reason. Quistis had been hit with knees, elbows, fists, feet, and for one terrifying minute, had been threatened with a blade to her neck.
She could not understand it. The man tormenting her was not asking for information. He was hitting her for no apparent reason. Quistis guessed, in between the brutal hits, that the man was angry about his dead and injured men, and was taking it out on her.
If that was the case, then she might end up dead before long. But she could not escape. She was alone, unarmed, and restrained. Her enemy was armed, alert, and furious. No way.
As her body sustained injury after injury, Quistis retreated into her mind. Everything flashed into her consciousness; it was like that sensation of your life flashing before your eyes just before death, both ominous and comforting.
Images came before her closed eyes. Her life at Balamb Garden, teaching as an instructor for many years. Everything that had happened twenty-five years ago, her adventures with her friends. Selphie, Irvine, and Zell. Her eternal companions, Squall and Rinoa…their passing on into death had done nothing to affect Quistis' love for them, save to strengthen it. She missed them so much.
Tears began to well up. They overflowed, and trickles of fluid began streaming down her cheeks from her closed eyes. If she could have heard him, she would have noticed that her tormentor was laughing, pleased with her tears. But she did not hear him, and the tears were not tears of sadness.
And then Quistis turned her thoughts towards herself. Almost automatically, she began to evaluate herself, to grade her life like she had graded so many test papers and assignments in the past. But something gently prodded her to stop, to look beyond the cold assessment.
She had heard before that it was impossible to love others without first loving herself. At first she had been unsure about that, but now as she sat alone, patiently enduring physical pain, she realized that at least some part of that belief was true. For the first time in her life, a life oriented towards others, she realized that she loved herself. It was a pleasant, satisfying sensation that felt no more selfish or conceited than the feeling of loving another person. She was able to look at herself almost as a separate entity, as a dear friend, and she felt a kind of flowing, circulating, internal love and appreciation deep within her.
Finally, she thought of Serrus. She had been quietly and unspeakably happy when she and Irvine had first found him. He had turned out to be a pleasant surprise, a noble and giving and brave soul, despite his life on the street. For a while, she had been slightly disturbed by the undeniable feelings she was developing for him; she felt that it was unfair to him, that perhaps she was only loving Squall through Serrus. But now, she realized the wonderful simplicity of it. She loved Serrus, and she loved Squall, and they were two people and yet, essentially, one soul; she loved them both, and that was all.
She was at peace now. She was ready to die.
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Time to move.
Serrus would give the signal. Everyone was waiting on him, having quietly received his instructions and ready to act. The problem was when to give the signal. The two guards were staring non-stop at the hostages. He needed some way to distract them.
He thought for a minute before he came up with an idea. It was a risky one though, and could certainly leave him dead. But then again, it was possible he would die at any time tonight, so he decided it would make no difference.
Serrus stood up suddenly. The guards, alert, immediately aimed their weapons at him. It was terribly nerve-wracking, but what mattered was that the guns were now pointed away from the other hostages.
"Hey," he said. "I gotta use the bathroom."
"Now?" one guard said. The guns were still pointed at Serrus.
"Yeah," Serrus said. "Actually, right NOW!" Serrus dove to the floor.
Two men jumped up suddenly, one from each end of the hostage column. With a raging battle cry, each threw himself against the startled guard in front of him. The two guards, surprised and defenceless, were knocked backwards.
At the same moment, each second person from both ends of the column—both slim women—began working furiously to bring her tied hands under her legs and to her front side. Working with their trim bodies, the job was done in seconds. Both women jumped up to help the two men subdue the guards.
Of course, at this point, all the other hostages were working to free themselves, as per Serrus' instructions. The two women were what mattered most, though, being closest to the guards after the two men. The women placed the guards in strangle holds using their ropes, as the men wrenched their guns away.
"Great job, everyone," Serrus said as he stood up. He was smiling. It had been perfect—the best team manoeuvre he had ever done, or seen. He spotted the man he had been talking to earlier, the one with half-closed eyes. He was holding the Lion Heart up to Serrus.
"I think this is yours."
"Thank you," Serrus said, and instinctively saluted the man in SeeD fashion. To his total surprise, the man responded in the same way. Serrus stared at the man, who smiled and said, "Ex-SeeD."
Serrus nodded in amazement, and then went to work cutting through everyone's ropes.
"Secure those two guards," he told the rest of the passengers when he was done. "I have to go find my friend."
With his father's weapon in hand and his father's spirit in every molecule of his soul, Serrus made his way towards the back of the train.
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The man in the jumpsuit was about to hit Quistis again when the door to the compartment slammed open. He turned around and snapped, "I thought I said not to—"
"I'm going to kill you now," Serrus Leonhart said to him, "you son of a bitch."
Before the man could do anything, before his brain could even register the implication that his two guards must have been defeated in the other train car, Serrus rushed at him. The man tried to block the imminent attack with his own sword, but Serrus was not going to be stopped. The massive upward slash of the Lion Heart connected with the man's sword with such apocalyptic force that it created a physical shockwave of air and sound that dented the walls of the cabin. The steel bulkheads were violently blasted outwards, deformed in a way that should have been impossible according to the laws of physics. As the Lion Heart impacted with it, the man's sword did not just snap. It did not just shatter. It exploded with such god-like power that the shards of the blade exceeded the speed of sound as they disintegrated from each other. A few of the shards pierced the steel walls of the train and flew hundreds of feet in the night air before falling to the ground.
The Lion Heart's blade slammed into the man in the jumpsuit with enough raw kinetic energy to create an earthquake. The man was blasted upwards so violently that he destroyed the roof of the train car as he passed through it. Serrus leapt upwards through the ruined roof until he was level with the man. Both were in the sky now, fifty feet above the moving train.
Still in midair, Serrus sliced through the man, left and right, up and down, any direction he could think of, again and again and again. A dozen times, twenty times, thirty times, moving in a blur of inhuman speed and accuracy, until there was nothing, NOTHING left of the man in the jumpsuit, except for a hundred little strings of flesh that showered down on the trees like rain.
Serrus dropped back into the train car. He let the Lion Heart clatter to the floor as he rushed to Quistis' side.
He took her chin in his hand and gently tilted her head upwards. "Quistis…"
"Serrus," she said weakly. Her face was bruised, and blood trickled from her nose and mouth. "Serrus…"
"Let's go," he whispered to her. "You're going to be okay now. It's done, it's all done. Let's go." He untied the ropes binding her to the chair. Before she could fall forwards onto the floor, he caught her and carried her on his back. He picked up the Lion Heart and left the cabin.
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The passengers made their way gingerly off the train at Timber station. Police and medical personnel were nearby to help the wounded and traumatized passengers. As Serrus was about to step off the train, carrying Quistis on his back, she nudged him gently.
"Serrus…"
"Hm?"
"I don't want to see…the police…or the doctors…right now…I don't want them to test me…to test me for…they might think that one of those men…"
Serrus nodded quickly. He understood. He turned back into the train and exited through an unnoticed door.
"What about your injuries?" he asked as he carried her away from the station.
"Just…bruises…and a little blood…no problem…no need…for medicine…"
"If you say so. Where do we go now?"
"A hotel…" she said feebly.
"A hotel?"
"Yes…we had…a deal…earlier…we were gonna…eat and talk…at Timber…our deal…remember…?"
Serrus almost smiled. He remembered.
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They were in the hotel room now. They had eaten and drunk, and were lying on clean, comfortable beds. They were safe.
Quistis lay on her bed, looking at Serrus through beaten, half-closed eyes. "I learned something from all this," she said, her voice a little stronger now.
"What's that?"
"You were right yesterday. What you said in my office. Sometimes it's all right to be alone, and even to feel a little alone. It can call up a lot of personal strength, personal reflection…and sometimes even acceptance of the inevitable."
He nodded, and lay looking at the ceiling for a minute. And then he said, "I learned something too."
"Hm?"
"You were right too. There are some times when you just can't win without a team. Earlier on that train…I saw how right you were."
Quistis nodded as well, and closed her eyes. "Serrus," she said softly, a minute later, "come here."
He went and sat at her bedside. She looked at him, at his brave face, looking kindly down at her. She reached out and finally completed the pending gesture; she touched his face.
"You were great, Serrus," she said.
"Just doing my job," he said quietly, touching her hand on his cheek.
"You saved me. You saved my life."
"Whether or not that's part of my job," he said, "I would have done it."
Gently, she drew his face down to hers and kissed him, the most tender kiss she had ever felt or given to anyone. His lips on hers stirred the deep waters of the well within her soul, waters that she had begun to think would remain still forever. Her spirit, so ragged until then, was merged with his; and she felt the first threads of inner healing flowing into her from within him.
They parted, and a moment later he saw tears falling from her eyes. She began to sob. "What's wrong?" he said, touching her cheek.
This was it. Even if she had wanted to, she could not hold the revelation back any longer, not after the kiss. "Serrus…I'm in love with you."
To her relief, he nodded and smiled. "I've noticed."
She gasped softly. "You have?"
"Yes, Quistis. I've seen the way you look at me…and how strongly you blush when I'm close to you."
She almost chuckled at that, but an elusive apprehension still controlled her. "It's not right, Serrus…I…I'm not a young woman anymore." She looked away from him, ashamed.
He held her chin again, gently, and looked her in the eyes. "That doesn't make any difference to me, Quistis."
"But…it's still not right," she said, tears trickling down. "It's not just about our age difference. I shouldn't do this to you. I can't. I can't hurt you this way. Serrus, we don't even know each other so well yet. What I've been feeling…these things you make me feel…it's unfair to you. Serrus…I was in love with your father…with Squall...even after he met Rinoa."
Serrus seemed surprised for a second, but then nodded in acceptance. "It's okay, Quistis."
"No…it's not okay…it's not just that I was in love with your father…it's the fact that…maybe even now…I'm just loving him…through you." She began sobbing again.
He held her face gently in both his hands. She sobbed once more, and then looked at him.
"It's all right, Quistis. The distinction doesn't matter to me…because I've always felt your love." He brushed her tears away with his finger. "Always."
"Oh, Serrus…" she breathed. "I…"
He put a finger softly to her lips. "Maybe, as you said, it isn't right," he said. "Maybe you and I shouldn't go further than being good friends. But, Quistis Trepe, let me tell you this: tonight, right now as I speak to you, right here in this hotel room, I feel more loved than I've ever felt before. And," he continued, in a quieter voice than she had ever heard from him, "even if this is the only time we'll ever be able to do it…Quistis…I want to share this night with you."
A single tear fell from Quistis' eye, and then she pulled Serrus onto her, feeling the melding of not only their lips, but their bodies as well. His hands moved to her stomach, gently pulling her blouse off.
And they did share the night together, in sweeping, alternating peaks of bliss and calm stillness—the warmest, sweetest, most heartfelt night that they had ever known.
- End -
Special note: I'm not too sure if I like the title of this story, "Alone and Together." If you have any suggestions for a better title, feel free to tell me, now that you're read the whole story. :)