A Battle of Land and Sea

Chapter Five

There's a ghost in my lungs and it talks in my sleep,

Wraps itself around my chest as it softly speaks,

Then it walks with my limbs, with my legs,

To fall at your feet.

Florence and the Machine "Don't Tell Me"

It loomed in front like some sort of haunted castle luring her inside. Come to me. It was everything she feared. There were far too many bad memories within this building. The walls were the only witnesses to the torment and the many things she wished not to remember. It was easy to forget about everything when she was away and this haunted house was no where in sight. But once she stepped within those omniscient walls, everything came alive again. The ghosts of the past came back to haunt her. Each time she came here, there was a horrible knot in the pit of her stomach. Today however, that knot had enveloped her entire being.

The car rolled to a stop at the side of the road and her old home was now in clear view just ahead of her. All she had to do was get out of the car and walk, but that horrible feeling kept her tightly in place. Paralyzing her. A light rain tapped on the windows and small droplets crashed down upon the window from the grey and cold sky — haunting and sad at the same time. Somehow everything seemed to fit her mood perfectly. It was as if it were some sort of omen, telling her that her instinct was right. She didn't want to come here. What she wanted was to drive away from here as fast as possible, to turn to Squall and tell him to put his foot down. But the logical part of her mind stopped herself. Logic was telling her that this is what she needed to do. She hated logic so much right now.

Letting out a long drawn sigh, trying to stall for some extra time, she turned her wide eyes towards Squall who sat quietly and patiently in the seat beside her. He watched her with curiosity and she knew he could sense her fears. Like an animal, he could almost smell it on her. But he never said anything, he didn't need to.

It was too hard to pretend that everything was some sort of twisted dream on this gloomy afternoon. She so sorely wanted to feel like she was in that same surreal state which had hovered over her in the last few days. Today, she felt more awake than ever, so much more aware of everything. There were no walls to hide behind. She was going right to the heart of the nightmare and wasn't sure if there was any way to change the direction the tracks were leading her to.

"I need to go on my own," the thought was said out loud rather than in her head and she guessed that was a good thing. She did not feel like she could control her body right now, it had taken on a life of its own and she was now here for the ride ahead.

This scared her, and it was something she didn't want to do on her own; but she had to.

"I need to do this by myself," she found herself speaking once more. Her voice sounded calm, the sort of voice that belonged to a strong-willed woman who knew exactly what was happening and took everything in stride — the complete opposite to the storm of emotions brewing inside of her.

Squall looked at her for a moment, studying her, taking in everything he could from this. It broke his heart to see her look like this, so frightened and wide-eyed like a small child. But he guessed that there was nothing he could do, only be there for her as much as she needed him. He was going to ask her if she was sure of her decision. Maybe she wanted him to walk her to the door and wait outside perhaps? He thought of many things he could have asked her.

"Okay," was the only response he found himself giving her.

Perhaps it was those wide eyes, the tired and worn look in her face. The face that was usually so alive and full of emotion was now dull and lifeless. He reached a hand out towards her and stroked her face gently, taking in every detail of it. The way she slowly closed her eyes, the small smile that appeared in the corner of her lips. It was only small, but it was there and it was like a life-preserver to him right now, showing that his lover was still in there somewhere, fighting the tides of sorrow.

"Take your time," he said, placing a kiss on her eyelids. He felt her arms clasp around him tightly, taking in every bit of comfort she could with her, as if she could try to suck some of the life from him into herself. Perhaps it could give herself some courage. She felt like she could do with some of that right now.

Releasing him from her grasp, she opened the door feeling the cool wind and the light drizzle of rain hit her face. It sent a shiver coursing through her and the warmth from Squall's body had immediately left her. She would truly be alone in that house of hers, no comforts at all in there.

Turning her head, she gave Squall one last longing glance, just wishing he could read her mind and take her away from here. But that wasn't what she really wanted was it? As she turned her gaze back to the house and made her way outside the door, she got all the answers she needed. Shutting the door behind her, she allowed her feet to move towards the house.

The first step seemed to be the hardest to take. It required all her strength and might, as if her legs were fixed to the ground somehow. One step, two steps, each one became a little easier, her feet feeling a little lighter as she made her way through the gates. She nodded her head silently to the guards who stood outside the house as they had done for many years now – her father's trusty men.

They both returned the gesture by giving a slow and deep nod of their heads, keeping their eyes on her the whole time. She had grown to know that look very well, the kind of look that told her that they were sorry for her loss. They had kept their thoughts to themselves, but their eyes had told her all that needed to be said. She made an effort to avoid their glances and walked faster, her feet scuffing loudly along the pebbled grounds leading up to the door of her home. Caraway's Mansion.

The house of so many memories…the majority of them not so pleasant.

Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, each thump exploding through her body. She kept walking, not daring to stop. She had to continue, otherwise, she'd be here for the rest of the day, not finding the courage to go in, but also not going back the way she had came. She had come this far and it wasn't quite time to give up yet. Looming ahead was the door, the entrance to all those secrets and the ghosts hidden deep in the cracks of the floor, smeared over the walls.

Another guard stood by the door, still doing his job even though his master was deceased. He gave a small bow to Rinoa. He was another guard who had worked here for many years. She dreaded to think how much they had known about what went on in the house. Surely they would have glimpsed at some things they probably shouldn't have. They could have overheard the shouting, the arguments, and had to stand there and not do anything because that was what their job. To stand, to not think about what was happening inside, just guard.

She found herself face to face with the door and for the first time since she had entered into the gloomy world outside the car, she stopped. For a moment, everything was silent apart from her thumping heart and the deep breaths she found herself taking. She held her breath to keep herself from screaming, to keep her from pretending this was some sort of dream. She needed to feel afraid, and to realize that this was real.

Placing her hands on the smooth and cool surface of the door, she saw that she had to take in everything that she could today. The last few days she had been roaming around in some sort of dreamlike state, but that wasn't an option anymore.

With what little strength she had at this time, she used all her energy to open it. It opened more easily than she had imagined it would as she found herself staring at the interior of the house. She felt the heat leaking out towards her, luring her in. She could faintly smell the familiar fragrance of her home. Her feet brought her forward and she closed the door behind her. Away from the rain and the dark clouds ahead…away from the rest of the world. Now it was simply her and the house.

At first, she wasn't really sure what she should do here, so she simply walked around, familiarizing herself with the place she had been away from for so many years now. She had come back every now and then, but only in short bursts. She had grown to hate this house and its memories. It always put her in an anxious mood and she would rather be as far away as possible. And so she walked, trying to ignore the constant fear in the back of her mind.

The first thing that struck her was at how normal everything looked. She wasn't quite sure what she was expecting here, but it felt more like she was walking through the house of someone who lived here, almost anticipating hearing him working if she pressed her head against the door of his office. Walking into the kitchen, she found a plate of half-eaten food, empty cups of coffee still left to wash. There was an ashtray holding the tips of cigarettes by the doorway. A lighter was beside it with his favourite brand of smokes, as he liked to call them.

Walking around some more, she found a newspaper left on the side, ready to be read. The date on it showed the same date he had died though. It was strange. She came here to make herself realize that he was gone. Yet, everything in the house seemed so lived in. So alive.

She felt drawn to her father's office, the place where he had spent most of his time in. He had stayed in there for hours sometimes, not leaving until very late at night and getting up early to start work in there. Once or twice she had found him asleep at his desk, although most of the time when that happened he had an empty bottle of liquor beside of him.

Opening the door, she looked around at the interior. She saw his usual desk and those awful chairs that he had acquired over the years. All of familiar things making her think that, somewhere in the back of her head, this wasn't as bad as she had expected it to be. Her heartbeat had slowed a little, not quite pounding in her rib cage, but still beating enough to hear it thumping in her ears. She'd grown used to this fearful feeling though, almost feeling grateful for it, knowing that without the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she would have not even come close to the house.

Her legs forced her forwards once more, bringing her up close to the desk where her father spent so much of his life at. The life that had now ended, she reminded herself. Pushing the thought aside for just a moment, she sat down at her father's desk, picturing what it would be like to be him. She looked at the same room he had worked in, sat in the very chair he had sat in and tried to use her senses to feel him. She could almost smell him here right now. Of all the places she had been in the house, his office was the one place she could sense him the most.

Pulling open a drawer, she rummaged around, not really sure what she was doing, but knowing full well what was happening at the same time. She wasn't quite sure if she was looking for something, yet she knew that the various envelopes and letters were not even close to what she wanted to find. She made her way through the rest of the drawers, rummaging around them, searching every crevice until she hit the jackpot. The drawer rolled open with a clang as a glass hit the side. And there it was right in front of her. The thing she hadn't really been looking for, but knew she would find. She was not surprised in the least as she found her father's favourite brand of whisky and a glass here in his desk.

Her father had been a heavy drinker for most of her life, and like majority of heavy drinkers, he always had given those empty promises of giving up. Although in the later years of his life his drinking had eased slightly, he still liked his spirits and a good drink at the end of the day. It had started after her mother's death, or perhaps he had drunk before that, she wasn't sure. What she was sure of was after her mother had died, her father always carried his whisky with him and a cocktail of cigarettes and liquor on his breath. Yes, he had made those empty promises of giving up the drinking and the smoking but he had evidently not fulfilled those promises he had made so many years ago.

She took out the large bottle of whisky and the glass, placing it on the desk in front of her. For a moment, she sat still and watched them. Then, with a little hesitation, she opened the bottle and poured herself a glass. She smelt the familiar aroma that it gave and instantly felt like her father was alive, more than ever right now. For the first time since coming here, she felt her eyes sting with tears. Not wanting to cry right now, she picked up the glass and took a large mouthful of the amber liquid - just the way her father drank.

It was a good distraction to suppress the urge to cry as she couldn't help pulling a face as she swallowed the warm liquid. It tasted awful to her and she couldn't help coughing a little but yet, she still found herself pouring another glass and downing the alcohol once more. If this was the only way she could feel close to her father then so be it. She was never a big drinker herself, but right now, it felt almost comforting to her.

How ironic, she mused to herself. Alcohol was one of the main factors that split her and her father apart but now, it was the one thing that made her feel close to him. She polished another glass off, pouring more liquor into the glass and placing it down, realizing that if she carried on this way, she would end up roaming around the house in a drunken state and that certainly wasn't what she wanted. She needed a clear head for this today.

Maybe another glass would help with the anxious feelings, she reasoned, but no more after that.

She swirled the liquor around slowly, deliberately to stop herself from drinking anymore. A memory came to mind, one that she had not thought of in many years. It was a time she would have wanted to forget, but it came fluttering back to her clear as the day it happened. She looked down at the whisky once more, and without thinking, downed another glass as she remembered that day she had come home from school. An adolescent fifteen year old, her head swimming from having…

… Too much alcohol. She thought to herself, and gave out a little laugh. Leaning all of her weight on the door, she twisted open the handle, almost falling into the house. She tripped over herself, but somehow gained her balance using the walls for support.

Slamming the door shut, she wondered where the alcohol she had been carrying on the way home had disappeared to. Lost it somewhere, she guessed with a shrug as she made her way noisily through the house. She threw her shoes off her feet, watching as they flew helplessly along the floor in the middle of the corridor. It would do. She didn't particularly care right at this very moment anyway.

She made her way through the house almost scratch-free, though she bumped into a table knocking its contents onto the floor. But apart from that, she thought she did quite well considering how much her head was spinning. On the way past her father's office she stopped briefly, looking at the closed door, knowing he was in there somewhere. She hadn't seen her father yet today, but even so she was extremely angry at him. A part of her wanted to waltz in there right now and tell him exactly what she thought of him, but the stinging pain in her legs stopped her from doing so. She would sort her injuries out first and find her father after. Yes, that seemed like a better idea.

The kitchen eventually came in sight through her blurred vision and she found herself rummaging through the fridge, finding a bottle of wine that would do just fine, given her current mood. She didn't care how ill she was starting to feel or how pissed off her father would be. All she cared about was doing the things he didn't want her to do as a big 'fuck you,' especially for him.

She turned on the sink's taps, resting her head in her hands and watching the cool water running beside her. Her knees were hurting. She could feel the warmth of the injuries, the pain still alive no matter how much she drank. Sitting beside the sink, she cupped some water in her hands and poured it on the open gashes on her knees. Memories of earlier came back to her mind and she couldn't help the tears falling and that anger rising within her. Wetting a towel, she bathed her hurt knees. It stung like hell even in her intoxicated state. Studying herself closely she found another open wound on her elbow and her cheek ached with a slow steady pulsating pain. She would most probably have a bruise there for the next few days, which was something she really didn't want. She'd hate people to ask her how she got these wounds, knowing full well that the people who caused them would not be impressed with her telling anyone who did this to her.

Wiping away a few stray tears she took a large mouthful of liquid from the bottle of wine. She could still feel the pain and the anger, and that meant she needed to drink more in her eyes. She'd seen her father do this often enough, as if it would somehow drown out the reality of his life that he was a single parent who was now also working all the time. She hated being his daughter. She was the one who had to walk in his shadow, the other teenagers at school shouting their opinions of him at her. As if she had anything to do with all that was going on in the government.

She shook her head as if the physical action would stop the memories and found herself laughing at her own stupidity. Sinking down to the floor with alcohol in one hand, wet towel in the other she found herself laughing in her drunken state. Nothing was particularly funny at all about the current situation, but it was a moment to cry or laugh. She chose not to cry. The alcohol was enough to half numb the seriousness of what had happened, yet the upset still lingered. She felt so weak right now, which she hated feeling. She'd spent so many years of her life feeling weak and this felt like an all time low. Life sucked, it was official.

It was at that moment when she saw him stand above her, a silent disapproval spread over his features. She wasn't sure how long he had been standing there, but right now, she didn't really care. She stayed on the floor, bathing her knees as if she hadn't noticed him at all. A heavy silence filtered through the room, and became like a shadow in the corner of her eye, one that she could not ignore and would not go away. She was just about to attempt to open her mouth to break the silence when she saw him move forward. Closing her mouth again, it was now her turn to sit still as he, almost too calmly, took the bottle of wine sat beside her and put it back in the fridge where it had come from.

"I thought I saw you stumbling into the house," he said colourlessly, his back facing her as he slowly placed the fridge door shut.

The first thought that came to mind was that he was sober. The first time in days she had come home from school and not find him intoxicated and she was the one under the influence. Typical. She stared at his back in silence, feeling the frustration building up within her.

"Since when did my daughter start drinking?"

Again, his voice had a strange calmness to it as he made his way across the kitchen. She heard noises above her, a clank of pots, the sound of running water and then the sight of a glass held in front of her face.

"Drink it."

Holding her hands out, she took the glass from his hands and took the smallest sip, placing it on the floor beside her. Done. That was as far as she was going to go at following his orders and it gave her a warm sense of satisfaction as she saw his unusually-calm face waver slightly, his annoyance evident but it looked like he was trying his hardest to hide it from her. She loved this game.

"Are you going to explain to me how you got into this state?" he pressed further.

The teenager lifted her head to look her father in the eye; her voice was low but loud enough to give its designated effect. "Are you jealous you're not drunk yet?"

She saw the flash of anger flash in his eyes, the inner battle within himself to keep his cool. To not lose this game that she was playing. She smiled drunkenly at her father.

"You should be proud of me right now. I'm following in my Daddy's footsteps. I'm going to grow up and be an alcoholic, just like you."

The internal battle to keep calm went on, each blow from her part causing a bigger reaction from him, until she would eventually get an argument. Sometimes she had no idea how they had got into this strange habit, but it was something that seemed to happen more and more often. This was what their relationship had become. No matter how many professionals he had forced her to see, how many people who tried to help them, they couldn't help but stick to this awful tradition of hurting each other.

"Where did you get the alcohol?" her father said after a long silence. He was finding it harder to remain normal, but he wasn't going to let his daughter win this time.

"A boy gave it to me," she said with a smile which quickly evaporated. "Aren't you going to ask what happened to me? I'm sat here bleeding and all your bothered about is who gave me alcohol."

She could feel her own patience waver, now tiring of the stubbornness of her father. She was changing tactics, not wanting to be in his company much longer.

"I figured you fell over by the way I saw you stumbling into the house."

"Well that's not what happened," she shouted, her anger growing within her. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, the hot tears threatening to fall. "Because of you and your stupid job, people hate me. They beat me up because of everything that's happening in Timber, I'm being targeted when you're the one that's making this mess."

The General let out a sigh, seeing his daughter's wide and desperate eyes. "This is why I wanted you to go to private school. Those children don't understand. I honestly don't understand why you insist on going to a public school where they do this to you?"

"You're killing their families — I think they understand pretty damn well exactly what you're doing!" The dam within her eyes finally gave way and she felt the stinging tears once more. "I hate what you do for a living… I hate you."

He looked at her with anger in his eyes for the first time without hiding behind the calm exterior. The tables had shifted now and he really wasn't in the mood for her to make him feel like a bad person.

"You don't understand, Rinoa, you're still young."

"You're a murderer," she yelled. "No wonder Mum hated you, after seeing exactly what you do and what scum you are. It's a wonder she even stayed for so long."

"Enough," the General snapped. "Go to your room. I don't want to see you for the rest of tonight."

The girl stood to her feet in outrage, knocking the glass of water across the floor.

"I'm going out," she said before walking away back towards the door. She could hear him behind her, his anger rising all the while. It was when she looked over her shoulder and saw the look in his eyes that she felt the fear rising through her.

As she felt his arm grab her arm tightly, she had the horrified realization that she had never seen him this mad before. She didn't like that look in his eye and, for the first time in her life, she felt scared of her father. She felt him harshly pull her backwards, losing her balance as her body collided with something. There was a shattering smash when…

…The glass collided with the floor. Taking deep breaths, she tried to cool her anger, telling herself that she should not be thinking these things. She was grieving for her father, she should not be thinking of these things. Wiping away at her tears, she began clearing away the broken shards of glass on the floor, amazed at how angry the memory still made her. Of course, that had been the beginning of a terrible night, but she had to push the thoughts out of her mind. She wasn't ready for any of this just yet. Right now, she needed to think of her father and somehow figure out what she was going to do with what he had left behind. There was so much in his home and it took an enormous amount of effort to make her way out of the office and into another room. A room which didn't bring back those memories she wished she didn't have.

There was a loud clatter as the folders fell to the floor. The young woman cursed under her breath as she bent to pick them up. Sighing to herself, she stacked the many pieces of paper and folders in her arms and began walking once more. Looking over her shoulder to make sure no one saw her, she made her way towards the dormitory area. She couldn't help the slight guilt that she felt, Irvine had told her not to work so often but she couldn't help herself. She was heavily pregnant but it just felt wrong to sit and do nothing.

Keeping herself occupied was the one thing that kept her sane, and no matter how pregnant she was, she needed to be active. Of course she knew Irvine was being overprotective. It was as if he was treating her like she had an illness rather than like she was bearing his child.

Shaking her head at the thought, she walked along the corridor. She may not be able to work and teach her students properly, but she was certainly going to try and be the instructor she'd proudly become over the last year. It seemed so strange, after remembering so vividly when she was in the shoes of the students she now taught. Things have sure changed over the years. They were all growing up and for some of them, more than others it seemed. SeeD was not a big a part of their lives anymore, at least for her. Squall was still as devoted as ever, same with Quistis and Zell. For Selphie, her main love was teaching young students rather than the physical side of SeeD.

Looking down at her swollen belly, she couldn't help the smile form on her lips. Parenthood was something that none of them had really thought about too deeply, it was something she had imagined a long time in the future. She felt that knot twisting in her stomach, an experience she had had a lot over in the past months whenever she thought too hard about anything. At first, she had thought it was just something that came with the fear of having a child, that it was just a phase and that it would disappear from her thoughts. The reality however, had been quite the opposite. The more she pondered about this, the more right it seemed.

She no longer wanted to be a SeeD…

It made her feel guilty whenever her mind put it so bluntly like this. SeeD had been her entire life and now she was just going to walk away from it. She could hardly comprehend thinking such things let alone speaking them out loud. As much as she wanted to tell herself that she was being stupid, that she should give it some time and see what it was like after she had her child, she also knew this would be it, once she stepped into parenthood she could no longer work here or be a part of SeeD.

Perhaps this was why she constantly felt the need to be the teacher, why she was bringing marked work to her students rather than waiting for her class to start in the morning. She wanted to savour every moment, work as hard as she could and try to make that extra bit of difference before her time was done. She may be seven months pregnant and have people constantly telling her to not to work and take her maternity leave but they just couldn't understand.

She had to do this for as long as she could, because no matter how much she loved her time at both Trabia and Balamb Garden, it was the end of her military life. She'd already fought her last battle but she was certainly not ready to teach her last class yet.

Sometimes she wondered if Irvine knew what was going through her mind. They had moved out of their dorms and into a house in Balamb since Garden didn't cater for pregnancies or new families. That was another gate closed in her eyes, the day she moved out of her dormitory. Another thing that made her realize that her time at Garden was coming to an end was that she was already halfway through the process, the only thing she had left to do was hand in her notice. It was easy, but far too hard at the same time.

She had lost count how many times she had tried to tell Irvine, to tell them all what she was thinking. They all seemed so lost in their own lives which all highly involved Garden. They'd all grown up at the same orphanage, taken the same route into SeeD, shared the same journey, and now it felt like she was the first to fall behind and not follow suit.

How was she supposed to tell everyone that she was giving up on the only thing any of them had ever known?

It frustrated her sometimes. Did they even know there was a whole world out there that all of them could be a part of? She wondered what career path she would have gone down if things had been different, would she have still chosen SeeD?

With a frustrated sigh, she continued down the corridor to her students' room. She didn't know where this had come from. Sure, she knew pregnancy would change her hormones, but could it really make her question everything about herself? Because apparently that is exactly what it had done to her.

Up ahead, she was coming up to where Rinoa's own dorm was. At the thought of her friend's name, she felt a sadness grow within her. Rinoa had always been Rinoa, always wore her heart on her sleeve and never was afraid to show her emotions. Yet, in the last few days, the poor girl looked so lost and confused.

She remembered the other day when she had visited her in her room. How frightened she had looked throughout their time together. She knew that it was a big shock, of course, it had shocked them all, but it was the way she seemed to be handling the situation that scared her friends the most. Rinoa had never isolated herself or shied away from anything, but now all of her friends were lucky if they even got to see her, even Squall.

Selphie bit her lip, a habit she had picked up over the years when she began to worry. She remembered a few days ago, she had seen Rinoa literally running into her dorm as if she was afraid of something. Perhaps she should have gone after her and seen if she was okay, but her friend seemed such a closed book that she wasn't sure if there was anything anyone could do. All of them knew that Rinoa had difficulties with her father; she had very rarely mentioned anything about her upbringing or anything about him. Everyone had learned to accept that this was a taboo subject for her, that whatever had happened in the past to make their relationship that bad was not going to be shared.

Selphie wondered if her friend would feel guilty at never making amends with her father. Perhaps that made sense as to why she was acting so strangely, it was a perfectly natural reaction in such circumstances. His passing was so out of the blue, no one saw it coming. Rinoa wasn't to blame for that, but if she felt like she was, then how would she ever learn to forgive herself?

Shaking away the thought, she made it her mission to do something special for her friend upon her return. She needed to make Rinoa smile and feel like her usual self, even if it was only for a few hours. She must have been going through so much at the moment. Selphie herself couldn't imagine how it felt to have a wedding and a funeral to plan. It was such a bittersweet time.

Stopping in her tracks abruptly, Selphie found herself looking at the door of Rinoa's dorm. It was slightly ajar and beyond it, she could hear sounds coming from within. Rinoa had only left a few hours ago. They hadn't come back so soon, had they? Perhaps she wasn't ready for all of this yet, Selphie reasoned as she made her way to her friend's door. If her friend had found it too hard and bailed out then she would be there for her.

"Rinoa, are you oka-" her voice stopped abruptly as she pushed the door open only to find herself staring at someone who was in no way Rinoa.

What happened next was so fast Selphie hardly had the time to register what had happened. That had happened when she found herself thrown on the floor from the impact of the stranger as he fled the room. The pain kicked in as she collided with the floor. She didn't get chance to see his face, only she could tell it was a male figure.

Clutching her swollen belly as she lay on the floor, her students' work splayed all around her. She felt scared for two reasons. He had collided with her stomach when he quickly ran and there was a pain running through her body as panic hit her and the second shock was the flowers the man had dropped on his way. They were the same flowers she had seen outside Rinoa's door the other day. The ones Rinoa had looked at in horror as if they weren't flowers at all but a monster in her hands. Something was happening.

Another wave of pain went through her. She clutched her stomach tightly and bit down hard on her lower lip through the sobs that were now escaping her.