The apple made a satisfying crunching sound with every bite she took. It wasn't the most exciting breakfast she'd ever had (there had been a couple of times on that first pilgrimage she'd been sure whatever she'd been eating wasn't quite dead yet), but at that particular moment, Rikku did not think she really needed much more excitement.
It seemed it was all she could do to try to wrap her mind around the possibility of becoming a mother. She wanted kids. Of course she did. She'd always had dreams of a big, happy family, dreams that had promptly been squished like bugs when Cid had announced she no longer had her pick of spouses.
A baby. She bit noisily into her apple. A real, live baby. A baby that would laugh and play and maybe be a little miniature of her. A baby to love, a baby to love her back.
Oh, wait. A baby that might also be a miniature of Gippal. A baby he would love, a baby he would want to love him. A baby he would want to take part in raising.
But a baby. A little cuddly piece of both of them. It might be her only chance for a baby – at least, one born to legally married parents. Children were often cruel – she wouldn't want to subject a child to mockery simply because it was not the child of legally married parents. And she would never be able to remarry legally. What if she never got her big, happy family?
It hurt just to think about it. In one fell swoop, all of her fragile, cherished dreams had been snatched away. How could her father have expected her to understand his meddling, how could Gippal have expected her to accept his lies a second time around?
It was wretchedly unfortunate that she was still struggling to kill off the last remnants of the love she'd had for him. She might still harbor some misplaced affection for him, but she'd never trust him. She'd learned her lesson.
Fool me twice, shame on me. She polished off the last of her apple bitterly, tossing the rind into a nearby trash barrel.
"Hey, Xac, isn't that the bitch that busted your nose last night?"
Rikku heard the overly loud call, and decided to ignore it. She was not in the mood to be bothered by anyone's histrionics. She had her own issues to work over. Still, a prickle of unease skittered up her spine. She didn't look up; rather she kept her expression carefully neutral and continued walking.
"Yeah, I think it is. She's not so brave now that she can't hide behind her man." The smug statement made her grit her teeth, but she ignored him.
She made to pass the small group of leering Yevonites without issue, but they were having none of it.
"Filthy Al Bhed whore," the one called Xac hissed spitefully.
She'd tried. She could honestly say she'd tried not to let them get to her. But they'd been bound and determined to get a reaction, and really, who was she to deny them one?
She broke his fucking nose again.
---
It had been almost two weeks since he'd last seen her. He hadn't really wanted to make her uncomfortable by hovering around her, but he'd kept contact with Keran, so he'd gleaned little bits of information from the other man. Nothing had been particularly helpful except to reassure him that she was still alive and in good health, and she'd managed to break the same stupid man's nose again, somehow.
He hadn't really known when he should be expecting some news from her – he'd suspected he might have to go find out about her himself. He knew she didn't really want to be within twenty feet of him if she could help it, and he couldn't imagine she would voluntarily seek him out. Which was why it came as a shock when he returned to his hotel and received a message from the front desk saying he'd gotten a commsphere call.
The receptionist was pretty, he supposed, in a bland, forgettable sort of way, and she didn't seem to care that she was flirting with an obviously involved man. "She didn't say what she wanted, sir, only that she'd tried your room and you hadn't answered, and that she'd like us to pass on the message that she called." She smiled sweetly, but Gippal was more interested in the message than the person delivering it.
"How did she look?" He didn't know much about pregnancy. Could she tell this early? Could she have morning sickness or something?
"Beg pardon?" The receptionist stared at him quizzically, as though not quite sure what he was asking.
"How did she look? Did she look sick, or happy, or sad, or what?" He pressed his palms on the counter top, anxiously awaiting her reply.
"Well, now that I think about it," she tapped one perfectly manicured fingernail to her cheek as she considered. "She looked kind pale. It could've been a bad frequency, I guess. No, no, I'm certain she looked a little ill. Maybe more pained than ill. I can't be sure, she didn't say."
He was headed for the door before she'd even finished her recollection. She frowned after him, vexed at being almost completely ignored. The other receptionist chuckled knowingly.
"That one's a lost cause for you, honey," she said. "Totally enamored with that girl of his. Rare, these days, to see such devotion."
---
It was a dream she'd had many times before, but one that hadn't surfaced – even in her subconscious – for many years. And it was a beautiful dream. Gippal, carrying their towheaded son on his strong shoulders, holding the hands of their two daughters. Gippal, smiling at her with such obvious love and affection that she wanted to cry. Gippal, proud papa, devoted husband. It was the most beautiful dream in the world.
She reached out to stroke the little boy's tousled hair, and the dream faded away like a desert mirage. Beautiful and fleeting, filled with false hope and wonder. Those children would never belong to her.
She slipped back into consciousness with her fingers still outstretched, hovering over the water glass on her nightstand. Feeling foolish, she picked it up and sipped slowly. All she wanted was to go back to sleep.
"Need anything?" Gippal's voice broke the quiet in the room – it took a moment for her to pick him out of the darkness. He was lounging against the wall – obviously he had been waiting for her to wake up.
It had taken all of her willpower to stifle the shriek that had risen in her throat. She swallowed it down with a hearty gulp of water.
"How'd you get in?" She asked finally.
He slipped a key from his pocket, setting it on her nightstand. "You left this above the doorframe. Only like the most obvious hiding spot for a spare key ever. You're lucky you haven't been burgled out of house and home yet."
"Obviously the good people of Kilika are not so criminally minded as you." She'd meant it to be an insult, but he just smiled.
"So." He took a seat at the edge of the bed, sliding his fingers into her loose hair. "Wanna tell me why you called?"
She reclined back against the pillows, drawing the blanket up to her chin. "I'm not pregnant," she said. "I thought you'd want to know. You know, so you can get back to Djose."
He hesitated a moment. She didn't look happy – she looked disconcerted. He wanted to know why. "Are you feeling okay?"
She shrugged. "Yeah."
"Rikku." He put a palm against her chest, holding her down even as he pinned her with a look. "I want an honest answer."
She squirmed under his intense gaze, but with his hand on her chest, she couldn't move far. Finally she gave in. "I've got cramps and a wicked headache," she said softly. "I'm pretty miserable."
"Poor baby," he said, stroking her cheek.
She almost wished it wasn't genuine concern darkening his gaze – mockery would have been so much easier to bear. He stretched out beside her, prodding her shoulder. "Roll over."
Dumbfounded, she did as he instructed. His warm hands inched her nightshirt over her head, tossing the garment aside. Then they slid soothingly over the bare skin of her back. Almost at once her stiff muscles melted beneath his gentle touch. Her whole body relaxed, her headache eased. She slid slowly back towards the healing comfort of sleep.
He knew she was fading into sleep – he could feel it in the lax muscles beneath his palms, hear it in the soft, even breaths she took. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck. She murmured something, but it wasn't a complaint.
"To be honest," he told her softly, "I'm a little disappointed. I would've loved a baby, Rikku."
But she was so near sleep at that point that in the morning she would be unsure whether or not she had dreamed it all up.
---
He left when she fell asleep. It was only right – she didn't want him there, not really. She'd been eager to tell him he could leave Kilika whenever he chose, since there wasn't a reason for him to stick around anymore. He hadn't told her that she was all the reason he needed to stick around.
He'd wanted her to be pregnant. He'd wanted it so fiercely that it had surprised him. It would be a permanent, irrevocable tie. It would've been the only part of her he'd ever really have. And now he had nothing at all. No love. No family. Nothing.
He'd always thought one day he'd have a big family, and he'd always imagined Rikku being part of it. He couldn't remember a time that he hadn't loved her, that he hadn't known he would spend the rest of his life with her. Or, at least, trying to be with her. When they were younger, it had all seemed so easy. Fall in love, grow up, have a ton of kids, and live happily ever after. It had taken years for him to understand that Rikku didn't want to share his happily ever after anymore. He still hadn't quite managed to accept it.
He sighed, fighting off the depression that had been stalking him for the past few years with another shot of whiskey. It was stupid to drink as much as he was drinking, and he knew it. But, just for one night, he didn't want to remember what Cid had cost him. What he'd cost himself.
A familiar face caught his eye. A face that might've been handsome, if not for the bandages crisscrossing the length of the man's nose. A face that had leered at his wife a few weeks ago. A face that Gippal had dreamed of bashing in himself.
And he was suddenly furious – furious with the man who'd accosted his wife after Gippal had specifically instructed him to keep his distance, and furious with Rikku for not telling him. But only one of them was around currently, and Gippal intended to make sure that the man never forgot himself again.
"You." He stalked across the bar, straight and steady despite the copious amount of liquor he'd ingested. He stopped a foot away from the man, who'd been trying unsuccessfully to melt into the crowd of people behind him. Obviously he only accosted the people he felt were weaker than him. Gippal was disgusted. "Stay the hell away from my wife," he said. His fingers lingered over the gun at his hip, leaving no doubt as to his intent.
The spineless man had mustered up enough vertebrae to stay upright in the face of Gippal's wrath. Despite his obvious fear of Gippal, he felt he was entitled to revenge upon Rikku.
"She broke my nose again," he hissed finally. "She's gonna pay for it somehow."
Gippal took a swing, connecting satisfyingly with the man's jaw. He went down easily, and glared up at Gippal. Gippal knew instinctively that the man wouldn't fight back – he only fought when he was sure he could win.
"You can't protect her all the time," he spat, blood dribbling down his chin from his split lip. A shiver worked its way down Gippal's spine. He grabbed for the man, but he ducked away, scrambling towards the door before Gippal could stop him.
"If I ever see you again, I'll shoot first and ask questions later!" Gippal snarled as the man tripped out the door. He wanted nothing more than to draw and shoot the man right there, but killing the man in a roomful of people would surely get him tossed in jail.
But all night, the thought of that man haunted him. He couldn't explain why, but he somehow he knew his failure to shoot the man was going to be the worst decision he'd ever made.
---
Rikku started when she opened her front door and found Keran there.
"Keran! I wasn't expecting you. I'd invite you in, but I'm on my way to the market. Want to come?" She was already walking, and he was already following her. As long as he'd known her, she always been happy to see him. She'd never turned him away, had never been too busy for him. He found her enthusiasm infectious. It was just too bad she was still interested in her husband. He sighed.
"There's something you've got to know, Rikku," he said.
"Hmm?" She cocked her head to the side, absorbed with hailing a longboat to take them to the marketing district.
"Gippal was in a bar last night with that guy you hit," he said.
"Xac," she whispered, suddenly all ears. She wasn't afraid of the man, but she was wary of him.
"Yeah." Keran shoved his hands in his pockets. "Apparently, when Gippal warned him again to stay away from you, he made a threat that gave Gippal reason to fear for your safety. I'll be tagging along with you until Gippal can track the bastard down." He saw no reason to add that Gippal would probably kill the man when he found him. In the grand scheme of things, no one would miss the man.
"So you're…protecting me?"
He grinned. "More or less. Gippal even lent me this fancy gun." He slipped it from its holster handing it over to her. Rikku checked it over.
"You know how to use it?" She inquired.
"Sure do. I'm not just some useless rich boy," he said. "I'm a useless rich boy who also happens to be an expert marksman." He re-holstered the gun, sticking his thumbs through his belt loops. "So I don't want to worry you or anything. We're watching out for you. But in the event anything should happen, if I tell you to run, you run like hell, okay? Those daggers of yours are pretty wicked, but I don't want you taking any chances."
"Okay." She didn't want to worry him, so she agreed without argument.
"All right." He grinned, helping her down into the longboat. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"
It was much more like a planned outing than being followed by a bodyguard. He helped her choose fruit and vegetables and even helped carry her bags.
"This one's nice." He tossed her a cantaloupe, which she tucked in a bag to hand over to the vendor.
Her purse slid out of her grasp, and she bent to retrieve it. Just as she did, she heard the loud report of a pistol, followed by the frightened cries of the crowd. The bags Keran had been carrying hit the ground – she heard the glass milk bottle shatter, saw an egg roll down the lane. She looked up at Keran with a face gone white. His hands touched the red stain blossoming across his chest. His mouth worked, but no sound came out except for a desperate little wheeze. He must've gotten a punctured lung. His panicked eyes met hers, and he mouthed one word.
Run.
She hurtled through the crowd. A bullet whizzed past her ear, slamming into a wooden beam just across from her. Stinging splinters flew off of it. She had just a few seconds before he'd reload, just a few seconds to get as far as she could.
Another loud blast, and a bullet hit the side of a building. He was following her. He had to be following her. But at least everyone would know his face. He'd never get away with killing her. He'd spent the rest of his miserable life in jail, or running from the law
You didn't just kill former guardians and get away with it.
A hysterical giggle burst from her. How could she be thinking something so foolish at a time like this?
Her lungs were going to burst. She was sure of it. She hadn't heard a gunshot blast in a while, but she wasn't foolish enough to stop running. She was going to run until she couldn't run anymore. Until she collapsed. Until someone caught that son of a bitch. The man who'd shot Keran. The man who'd shot her friend.
A little whimper worked its way out of her throat. Keran. He'd always been so kind to her. If he was dead, if he'd died because of her…
A hand shot out of an alleyway, catching her wrist as she raced past. She shrieked, thrashing, flailing, her free hand reaching for her dagger even as she was dragged into the darkened alley.
"Shhh." An arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. "Shhh, Rikku, it's just me."
Gippal. It was Gippal who stroked her hair, who held his gun cocked, ready to fire should anyone come into the alley uninvited. She burst into relieved sobs, twining her arms around his neck, and pillowing her head on his shoulder.
"Gippal, he shot him. He shot Keran," she whispered.
"He'll be fine." Even as he said it, he prayed it wasn't a lie. "He'll be fine, honey." He kept his gun trained on the entrance to the alleyway, letting her catch her breath. She was panicked, terrified. She'd seen her friend get shot, she'd outrun a spray of bullets.
She shuddered, hiccoughing. What she needed most right now was to be safe. To not be standing in a deserted alleyway wondering if every breath she drew might be her last. He needed to get her away from there.
He brushed her bangs away from her face, kissing her cheek. "I almost had him twice this morning," he said. "But I lost him around the restaurant district. I don't know Kilika all that well. We've got to get out of here." He urged her behind him. "What's the quickest way to the docks?"
"I don't know." She couldn't think. "I'm not sure. It's not far, I don't think."
"Good. Lead the way."
"What?" She reeled with shock. "You want me to go back out there? What if he's – "
He cut her off. "Don't think about him. Do you trust me?"
"I don't under – "
"Do you trust me to keep you safe?" He pulled a small gun from his pants pocket and tossed it to her, instructing her to turn off the safety.
"Yes." She was surprised to discover it was the truth. She did trust him. He would always take care of her. She looked down at the small weapon resting on her palm. "What's this for?"
"Just in case. It's just one shot, but with luck you won't need it at all." He peeked around the corner of the alleyway – no one was in sight. "I'm pretty sure it was just the one guy," he said. "But that doesn't make him any less dangerous. I don't know if he's been caught or if he's still out there, so I'm not taking any chances. We'll head straight to the docks. If you hear a gunshot, you hit the floor and hide, okay? If you see the bastard, you shoot him. I'll be covering you. I'm a bigger target, it'll make you harder to hit."
He steered them out into the main thoroughfare at a pace just shy of a full run. His hand hovered over his weapon in case he needed to make a quick draw. "If I go down, you keep running, you understand? Don't stop for anything. Get to the docks."
"Where are we going?" she gasped. "I mean, when we get to the docks."
"Djose," he said back. "It's the only place I can be sure you'll be safe."