Ok, next chapter! It took longer than I expected to get this part up, but all the nice comments made me so deliriously happy I couldn't concentrate. But don't let that put you off! I'll be faster next time, promise!

Still unbetaed, still doesn't belong to me, and I still don't have a clue what I'm doing.

CHAPTER 2

When Quistis came to, her first concern was the gash on her forehead that oozed blood into her eyes. The shrill beeping of the emergency evacuation alarm hurt her ears and as she tried to stand to turn it off, she found herself trapped under a chair. It wasn't heavy, at least not normally, but she felt weak and disoriented and she couldn't move it.

She heard movement, somewhere to her right and a few irregular heartbeats later, the beeping stopped and Squall knelt down beside her.

He was bleeding from the nose and a wound on his cheek, but still managed to look like nothing was out of the ordinary, but for a brief flicker of panic in his eyes.

"You alright?" he asked. "Considered?"

She croaked out a yes and was suddenly pulled to her feet. The control room bent and moved around her and she grabbed onto Squall's arm for support, squeezing her fingers into smooth leather.

When she finally found her bearings again, she looked around and surveyed the damage. Due to its location high up and in the middle, no matter how Garden would land, the control room would be mostly intact. And it was, except for all loose items like papers, stationary and various gadgets littering every available floor space. Well, at least they'd landed belly down.

"Nida, where are we?" Squall's voice wavered, only a little, before regaining it's usual strength.

The pilot was rubbing one hand against the back of his neck, while tapping away at a keyboard with the other.

"Approximately 80.3 miles east of Deling, we're basically just at the edge of the Desert."

"What about communications?"

"There no damage to the systems, we just need to rearrange the signal.""Contact Esthar, tell them we're down, have someone alert Galbadia and Trabia and have both their Gardens come to our location. We're gonna need some help getting this thing off the ground again. Selphie, can you put a team together and secure the outer perimeter?"

"Yes, sir."

Quistis frowned, and winced as she did, hand coming up to gingerly touch the cut.

"You don't think it was an accident."

Squall glanced her way, before looking at Nida. "Did we manage to establish contact with Deling before the missile hit?"

"Yes, sir. But… it was just minutes before…"

"Two missile hits just after we announced our deviation from our appointed route. I'm not taking any chances. What about Garden itself, what does the diagnostics say?"

"So far, it looks like the lower levels are those where the most damage has been done. But you've already figured that. All of the operational systems are malfunctioning so it's safe to say we won't be getting out of here for a while. The upper levels should be fine, except for some minor interior damage."

Nida threw out an arm to indicate the mess they were all standing in.

"Casualties?"

"Too early to tell, sir. Most SeeD's were off duty, they're not wearing their locators, but there's signals coming in from all over."

"Ask for a headcount of those in the immediate vicinity, we need to know how many injures. Can you see if the Infirmary is intact?"

Nida was silent for a moment, consulting a schematic of Balamb Garden on a computer screen."Without confirmation from Dr Kadowaki, it looks fully functional."

Squall nodded and Nida turned to issue all the orders given.

"So really, what do you think happened?" Quistis asked as she pulled her rumpled hair back into a ponytail and gave herself a more thorough check of injuries. She seemed fine, except for what would probably become heavy bruising and aches that a few aspirin wouldn't cure.

"Deling is known for doing unscheduled and unauthorized missile tests in these parts. They usually don't do any testing on days when they know we're going to be passing by, no one can ever tell what could go wrong. The fact that they did only makes me more suspicious. It could be an accident, or meant to look like one. They've wanted to get their hands on Garden-technology for years, especially since Laguna denied them sanctions for building their own. Until we hear from Esthar and what they have to say, we're not contacting Deling again. If by some miracle they don't know they hit us, I'm not gonna give us over on a silver platter. Now, I want you to handle the evac. There's gonna be a lot of scared kids out there. Make sure everything is done calmly, I doubt there'll be more attacks while we're stranded here."

"Yes, sir."

She stepped out of the Control Room, carefully watching her step as she descended to the main level. She heard the noises of a big crowd before she saw it, and immediately headed over to Selphie, who was just gearing up a team of SeeD's.

"How does it look?" she asked, looking around the large dome where people were gathered, taking in the crying, frightened faces of the cadets. No one seemed uninjured.

"We took bad fall, ma'am, obviously", a tall, dark-haired boy said, probably no more than fifteen. She remembered him vaguely, but couldn't put a name to him. "We were down in the Transport launch when the first missile hit", he indicated the blond boy with a nasty cut down his right bicep, standing next to him and continued. "It's pretty banged up and I guess it's even worse the lower you get."

Quistis nodded at Selphie, watching the petite girl grind her jaws together, and the brunette turned swiftly to lead them out.

The Transport Launch. That was on level nine, just two levels above the Engine room. She wondered about the status of "pretty banged up" and shuddered at the thought of the two massive turbines located down there. She tried to shake the nasty images out of her head, concentrating instead on the Evacuation plan. She had it clear in her head, anal as she was about her job, and she went about getting SeeD's back on duty and back to work.

Half an hour later, the chaos had settled down to a more controllable turmoil after the somewhat accurate headcount had been made. So far there were no known casualties, but everyone knew it wasn't likely to stay that way. Two severely injured had been taken to the Infirmary and a harried looking Dr Kadowaki. She'd taken one look at the two boys, one with a massive head wound, the other pierced in the gut with something that looked like a trophy of some kind, and simply said: "I'm gonna need backup."

Quistis had immediately arranged it for her.

Before she had exited the Infirmary, she glanced at Dr Kadowaki's inventory list and felt a shiver of panic. B-Garden barely had any magic in store, other than what people might carry on them. The higher ranked SeeD's usually walked around with at least the most basic Healing Magic, but just coming back after helping Galbadia out with a mission on the Island closest to Hell, most were out or running very low. She swallowed and hoped Galbadia fared a little better and was willing to share.

When she felt like there was nothing more she could do at the moment, she went back to the control room, entering just as Squall finished a conversation with President Laguna, who for once sounded authoritative.

"How is it going?"

"We were just about to try and contact those with their locators on that are not assembled in the Dome." Quistis thought Squall sounded slightly sullen, but decided that it was probably just a response to talking with Laguna. "How are the others?"

"Two critical, about a dozen serious injuries. There's eleven SeeD's unaccounted for and five Cadets. As far as we can estimate, most of the Maintenance Crew is missing, except for three -very cranky- cafeteria ladies."

"But at least we can get the kitchen running, get everyone fed. That might prevent a downright mutiny."

Squall didn't even manage to sound sarcastic, only exhausted. He fidgeted a little, then pointed at the attendance-sheet Quistis was holding. "Those unaccounted for? Can you…Where are… Who is missing?"

She flipped though the pages until she got to the end and took a deep breath, steeling herself.

"Seifer, Raijin, Zell, Irvine, Lieutenant Commander's Saller and Rowe, Lieutenants Asher, Wilde, Silver, Morgen and Mill. The Cadets are Winger, Adam, Morrow-"

"Thank you."

She looked up, more names on her tongue, but she bit them back. She had enough trouble listing her friends as missing, and she thought Squall might have even more issues at hearing them missing, unable to do more than stand there on deck giving order to have others try and dig them out. It sucked, but that was the Chain of Command. Squalls place right then was there, even though he probably wanted to be anywhere but.

Even Quistis had found it hard to remain professional, probably coming off as cold and indifferent when asked about others, and especially when she had been confronted with Fuujin, who's face looked like it had been repeatedly slashed with a whip, demanding to know where Seifer and Raijin was. She couldn't say, and she had tried not to let the sharp look of disappointment and disgust in Fuujin's one eye get to her.

"Sir", Nida spoke up from his station, headset now firmly in place, though sitting somewhat askew. "We're getting transmissions from the lower levels, shall I put them through?""Yes." Squall's voice was like cold steel against a whetstone.

Nida fiddled with some buttons, turned some dials and then the whole room was filled with heavy static.

"State your name, location and the number of people with you, injured and casualties."

There was a short silence, squelches and beeping, before the first transmission started.

"Lieutenant Wilde, sir. We're on the Upper Maintenance Deck. There's seven of us in total, two injures, not critical, no casualties."

Quistis let out a slow, ragged breath as the next on came on, knees almost giving out.

"It's Seifer." His voice, when she couldn't see him talk, was always so powerful. It still was but there was an underlying hint of desperation there and she could hear people crying in the background, only adding to her dread. "I'm on the Transportation Deck. It's a fucking mess down here. We're 18 people, eleven injuries, three critical and seven casualties."

There was no one in the Control Room unaffected by that news, but Squall seemed to take it personally. She stepped a little closer to him, hoping he could feel her empathy.

The Transportation Deck was just below the Launch-hatch, one level above the Engine room, and Seifer wouldn't call it a "fucking mess" if it wasn't almost completely destroyed. He had a knack for understatements.

"Lieutenant Commander Saller, Lower Maintenance Deck. Fourteen in total, four critical, four casualties. Let's just say there's no one uninjured down here. What the hell happened, Commander?"

While Squall briefly relayed the situation, Cid came limping into Control, a mountain of a man in full uniform, following behind.

"What's happening?" Cid asked, nodding towards Squall. He had a sheen of perspiration all over his face that probably stung fiercely in the small cuts that riddled his skin, most likely made from shattered glass.

His companion hadn't fared much better, although he made a better show of seeming unaffected.

"I know about the missile", Cid continued. "Seifer told me as he rushed past. I assume there was another hit?"

"Yes, Headmaster. We're getting reports on the casualties. Eleven so far."

"That's awful." Cid sat down in a vacant chair and frowned deeply. "Absolutely horrible."

Cid had always taken all fatalities of Garden as a failure on his part, but unlike all those other times, there was no Squall to tell him to soldier on, because the Commander was taking it personally too.

The transmission continued, separated only by a short silence.

" Jordin Winger, sir. First Year Cadet. Uhm… I don't really know how many.. It's sort of spread out… I think maybe we were ten?" Cadet Winger fell silent for a moment and Quistis' heart clenched when she heard what was most likely sobs. When the young boy came back on, his voice was steadier, but only by a little. "There's just me alive, sir. They're all dead."

Quistis was literally shaking, and the silence that followed in the room drowned out the static. When Squall spoke she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Jordin", his voice was soft and soothing, something she didn't know he was capable of. "Where are you?"

"Storage Bay, sir."

"Do you remember where the first missile hit?"

"Uhm, it came through the wall. We didn't… I was just by the door and it… The cargo shielded me."

"And the second?"

"I don't know. I heard it, but I couldn't see anything, there was too much smoke."

"Thank you, Cadet Winger, I promise I will have someone down there soon, ok? Until then I want you to clear away as much debris from the door as you can."

"Yes, sir."

Squall turned around, flinching a little when he noticed Cid and the unknown man, but regained his composure quickly. "So the first missile hit Storage."

Nida, completely engrossed on his screen, thought Squall was talking to him.

"Even if the second missile didn't hit the Engine room, the crash most likely caused enough damage. It's still not responding, and the warning lights are like a fucking Christmas tree over here, I can't seem-"

The static reached a new level of obnoxious and they all jumped when they could hear fragments of a voice coming through, getting more eligible as Nida franticly adjusted settings.

" -vine Kinneas- -gine room! Hyne, it's-- and we're leaking fuel li- -razy down here, feels like it's gonna blow any second. We're five down here, three critical, two casualties. Fuck, Squall. Zell's down here. He's alive, but… Just get us out!"

Quistis was looking right at Squall when the news came and caught the look of utter agony on the Commanders face. How his breath caught and was almost painfully pressed out of his lungs and how he pulled into himself, hunching down slightly as he closed his eyes.

She didn't step forward, knowing full well she would have rejected the touch if it had been her, her mind feebly searching for something to say.

Squall slowly straightened, and eyes like steel now, jaw set so hard Quistis thought she heard his teeth crack.

"We've sent teams down to clear away the debris to get down to you. It might still be awhile. Did the second missile hit you?""Hell yeah! The first one too, it came through the fuck wall. That didn't cause as much damage as the second though. That went straight into the fuel tanks after ripping the hull open. There's lots of sand in here and we've tried to make it soak up as much of the fuel as possible, but we can't move around a lot. Is Selphie alright?"

"Yes", Quistis said, letting Squall stare into nothing for a moment. "She's outside. Is it possible to dig our way in through the sand?"

Irvine spoke to someone else, low murmurs barely audible through the static.

"We can't tell how deep into the sand we are, but it's worth a try."

She turned to Squall, aware of Cid and his still un-introduced guest listening in. "Commander?""Do it. Have Selphie expand the perimeter, I wanna know in time if we're having company."

Quistis nodded and headed for the exit, hearing Squall ask behind her: "Zell… Is he conscious?"

"Sometimes."

"Tell him we're coming, alright? Tell him we're getting him out."

ooo

Irvine dragged himself back to the spot they had secured as much as they possible could, and Conn noticed what an effort that was.

"What did they say?"

The longhaired Galbadian looked at him for a moment before answering.

"They're on their way, but they can't say how long it'll be."

Conn sighed and cursed his luck for being stuck doing overtime on just this night. The maintenance crew usually only worked twelve-hour shifts before having twelve hours off, but Conn was filling in for his friend, a friend who probably sat somewhere safe. At least he hoped he was safe, so he could kick his ass later.

"Did they say what the hell happened?"

Irvine sneered and tried a find a position that didn't put pressure on his broken leg.

"No, they didn't and I didn't ask. They most important thing to worry about right now is to get us out of here soon. The 'why' can be dealt with later."

They both looked down at Zell, and Conn gritted his teeth at the sight. The skin on the blond's right arm and neck was riddled with angry red blisters from when the first missile had broken a hot water pipe and showered him. The left side of his face was little more than a bloody mess and Conn could almost make out patches of black where the tattoo had been. More than one rib was certainly broken, his breath wheezing as it was pressed through his chest.

There was also a deep long cut in his thigh that was their biggest source of concern. They had done their level best to stop the blood flow, but Irvine had had little more than basic medical training, and Conn only knew the wound was too big to slap a band-aid on. But they both knew enough about main arteries to know that with every beat of Zell's heart, more blood escaped him.

"They better get here soon. He's tough, but I don't know how much longer he can hold on."

Conn reached over to adjust the knot on the makeshift bandage, made from the relatively undamaged arm of his overalls.

When he tightened the knot, Zell groaned, a pathetically weak sound that made Irvine lay a hand on his uninjured arm, stroking it in an attempt at comfort.

"Hey man, don't move, alright?"

Zell cracked open one eye, bloodshot and swollen, looking around slowly.

"Still here, huh?

His voice was no more than a whisper, interrupted by painful gasps.

"Yeah, but they're coming, real soon, you just gotta hang in there. Squall's on his way, you hear me? He told me to tell you that. He's gonna get you out."

Zell made a noise, and awful choking sound, before he passed out again, his head lolling to the side.

Irvine sighed and sat back, leaning his head against the wall.

Conn shifted a little, trying to ease the strain on the cut on his back, and he could feel blood running down his spine, tickling uncomfortably. He had kept his mouth shut about the pain, seeing how both Zell and Irvine were both a lot worse for wear, but the longer time passed, the more painful it got.

"I guess a lot of people's dead", he wondered aloud, looking over at Hunter and Roofe where they lay covered by a tarp. They hadn't been close friends, but they had been good guys, strong workers and he'd seen them almost every day, so he would still miss them terribly. "If the missiles didn't do it, the crash most certainly must have."

He heard Irvine move, groaning while he did so. "Yeah."

"You asked about a Selphie? She's your girl?"

As time had passed, Irvine had seemed get more and more exhausted, taking lead from the start. Conn recognized the need to stay awake and decided to hammer the poor boy with questions until help arrived.

Irvine was silent a moment, and when Conn looked back he had a tortured expression on his face. He wasn't sure if it was because of physical pain, or mental pain.

"For now, yeah. I'm being transferred out of here, she can't come with me."

"Whatta shame. Hey, your leg's hurting, ain't it? Why don't you use some of that magic I hear you SeeD's pack around with?"

"It's not customary to keep them while in Garden", he said, but Conn could detect a rather mournful expression on his face.

"All out, huh? Must've been one hell of a mission you guys were on. Hey man, I don't know the details, alright, I just know we dropped some people off on the Island Closest to Hell, and I know that place ain't calm and peaceful."

With a shrug, Irvine nodded. "Yeah, it sucked. But even if it hadn't, magic isn't meant to heal paper cuts, and I was just coming down here to help you out."

Conn frowned at the jumbled sentence, but decided to forget he noticed.

"Yeah, thanks for that, mate."

Kinneas chuckled, moving again to find another position for his injured leg. Conn sat in silence, thinking while he ripped a stray piece of his overalls to shreds.

"So, this rumour about the Commander and Zell here…"

He could feel Irvine's eyes stare at him, more tension in the room now.

"Is not just a rumour."

"Yeah well, I'm not usually into gossip, so I just let people talk. They've been together for a while now, right?"Irvine still hadn't relaxed, though he wasn't staring at Conn anymore. His eyes were shifting from Zell to a spot somewhere above the left turbine, that Hunter had named Betty, and then back again."Little over two years."

"That's some time." Conn thought of all the other rumours that had reached his ears. "They happy?"

"They used to be." There was no disguising the bitterness in Irvine's voice but there was no telling to whom it was directed. It seemed that Zell and Commander Leonheart weren't the only ones that used to be happy.

"What happened?"

"They went public with it, people freaked out, just like we feared. I told them that it would happen, that not everyone would understand, but no, their happiness came first."

"I heard about some people quitting because of that", Conn said, trying to pull the overall out of the wound so it wouldn't scab with pieces of cloth in it. Irvine nodded across from him, a disgusted wrinkle on his forehead. "Some narrow-minded assholes if you ask me. Good riddance"

He pretended not to notice Irvine's shameful blush and went on. "I prefer people minding their own business and not blaming their misfortune on someone else. The Commander's been doing a fine job for years, but some can't seem to think beyond their own personal gain."

"Yeah, but maybe it would've been better if they had just kept it for themselves."

"Maybe, but love is never just two people's business. At least it shouldn't be. Isn't that why you kids are out there saving the world, again and again? Honestly, if Leonheart decides to let the world save itself next time, if this is the thanks he gets, I sure as hell won't blame him. Acts of love shouldn't be punishable."

Irvine didn't respond, but he did look preoccupied enough to keep him awake for at least a few more hours.

ooo

Seifer tried, he really did, but after two hours trapped with a group of teenage girls taking shifts at crying and complaining, his patience was wearing thin. Luckily, there where other people there too, responsible adult people (still in shock people), that actually did what he told them, even if they didn't offer much in terms of realistic ideas of getting free - or general conversation.

When it had gotten painfully obvious that they were going nowhere without help from the outside anytime soon, Seifer had taken it upon himself to take charge, seen about covering the dead and making bandages out of relatively clean shirts.

He was particularly proud of how he had managed that horribly vain rich kid who had enrolled in Garden just for the kick of it, to give up his ridiculously expensive shirt, by explaining to him that no one gave a flying fuck about how much his pristine white silk shirt had cost -or who had made it- and by being a good example. He wouldn't let anyone touch his coat, but the grey hoodie he'd worn underneath was no longer part of this world.

He just wished Squall could've seen him and gotten off his self-righteous high horse when it came to his attitude about Seifer's competence and the babysitting-missions he insisted on sending him on.

When they got out -and that better be soon! - he was going to-

"Sir?"

He startled, flailed a little before regaining his composure, glaring down at a red-eyed little boy not many years past ten.

"What is it Benni?"

"I'm hungry, sir. You have anything to eat?"

Benni's blues eyes looked up at him expectantly and Seifer cursed internally. People may not expect it, but Seifer had a weakness for children, their puppy-dog eyes and their blind faith in those older than them, and the general helplessness that small children possessed. He had tried to overcome it, his merciless teasing of Zell the most extreme of his attempts, but like all the other tries, it had been fruitless. If a small kid looked at him, eyes rimmed with tears and asking him or help, Seifer was by no means strong enough to walk away.

Luckily, no one had the faintest of a clue. He could just imagine Quistis' insufferable leering, calling him 'cute'.

"Sir?"

"I don't have anything, Cadet. Guess we can look around and see if there's anything down here. Why don't you go ask around, see if anyone's got something?"

Benni nodded, practically bouncing off despite deep shrapnel-wounds on his head, heading towards the closest group of people, most of them pilots.

Another couple of hours passed by excruciatingly slow, and he had even tried contacting Squall out of boredom, but he'd gotten denied by that twat Nida, who claimed Squall was in a meeting. Who the heck attended meetings in the middle of a fucking emergency?!

But as compensation (and Seifer didn't think it covered it by a long shot) Nida had told him a team of technicians were on their way to try and override the locks.

He had spent the last half an hour polishing Hyperion until she was almost luminescent in the pale green emergency lights. He knew it was probably a bit farcical, the way he doted on his Gunblade like it was a pet, talking to her, giving her nicknames, giving her a frickin' gender! But for many years, Hyperion had been his one constant companion that no one could take from him, even if they beat him and defeated him, broke him down to a bloody pulp; there was still his weapon. And to Seifer, that meant something, even if it technically was just a piece of metal.

"Sir!"

A shrill voice penetrated the adoring monologue that he was bestowing on his Gunblade, making him look up with a glare. The girl in question didn't even look fazed, just excited, jumping up and down on the spot like Zell often did. Hyne, it annoyed him!

"What?""We can hear something!", she said pointing at the door. "Sounds like knocking! We think it's a code!" The exclamation marks were obvious in her tone and Seifer rose smoothly and stalked over to door, pushing his way to the front and pressed his ear to the cold metal.

Like the girl had said, a muted knocking could be heard, heavy beats at irregular intervals and old communications lessons flooded to the front of his mind.

"Can you hear it? What does it say? Are we finally getting out?"

The girl was clinging to his arm, leaning against him and batting her lashes like she thought flirting with him would get them out faster.

"Would you please shut up?"

She looked offended, but Seifer couldn't bring himself to care and refocused on the tapping, spelling the words out in his head. Suddenly he reared back.

"Get away from the door. NOW!"They barely managed to get behind shelter before they heard three loud metallic booms and then the whole door curled over itself inwards.

Through the billowing smoke that followed, Seifer saw a team of SeeD's enter, weapons at the ready, probably more out of habit that expecting to find enemies.

"Lieutenant Almasy, Commander Leonheart requests your presence in his office immediately, sir!"

Oh, he did, did he?

"Have you gotten down to the lower levels yet?" Seifer asked, coughing in the dust filled younger SeeD shook his head. "No, sir. We've been instructed to try the air ducts from in here."

"Good."

He stayed long enough to make sure that the others trapped with him got out alright before he headed up the stairs. The structural damage was even worse this time, going up, that in some places he had to make himself impossibly flat to get through, debris and rubble so compact he wondered if all of Garden had collapsed.

But the higher he got, the easier it became to move and once he reached the office floors he was dripping with sweat and the cut on his arm that he hadn't noticed until he'd accidentally scratched it again squeezing by a wall ornament, was throbbing violently.

He entered without knocking, walking in on Squall talking to Cid and the Mayor of Fisherman's Horizon, the three of them standing in a random mess of papers, files and stationary.

"Seifer", Squall said, sounding more hollow than he'd ever heard him before. "I believe you know General Garrett."

Seifer nodded at the General who barely acknowledged him, unsure of how to react to the giant man's presence. He hadn't seen Garrett since he took refuge in FH after Ultimecia, and while they had never been on friendly terms, Seifer believed he had percieved the General as slightly more approachable the last time he'd seen him.

"I came to have a word with Headmaster Kramer about Balamb Gardens rather…unconventional situation. I hadn't expected to find myself a victim of such an unwarranted attack."

His voice left no room for misunderstanding who's fault he believed this disrespect was, a fact only made more obvious by the dark look in Squall's eyes and it reminded Seifer of why he had never liked the Mayer. Beside the fact that he was considerably taller.

"Next time we'll tell you in advance if we plan to be unexpectedly shot down in the middle of the desert, General."

The words were so acrid that Seifer almost applauded Squall, but refrained at the last minute. He did manage a smirk, that Squall -in his own odd way- returned.

"Why's that any of your business anyway", Seifer asked, wanting to participate in this game of Toss Crap at Authorities. He'd done it for so many years to Squall that it had lost its novelty, but General Garrett was new.

Garrett's black eyes bore into Seifer's but whatever power the other man may have held over him in the past, Seifer was over that now and he stared back.

"That's strictly need to know, Lieutenant Almasy."

"Then why the fuck am I here? People are dying on the lower levels and I'm standing here 'not needing to know'."

"Several of our commanding officers are either injured, missing or dead, and I need people with rank down there."

Cid sounded, still, very much like the Headmaster of Garden, and Seifer doubted he would ever look at anyone else as the rightful Headmaster again. Even if Squall did take over. Especially if Squall took over.

The only thing Seifer hated more than taking orders, was taking orders from someone younger. And weaker.

That said, he didn't think Squall would totally suck at it. The little twink did have a knack for protocol and regulations, even if politics and bureaucracy wasn't his strong suit. Besides, some paper cuts would do him good.

"Seifer?" Squall arched an eyebrow at him and Seifer gritted his teeth.

"Uh, yes? Sir."

"Are you willing to take responsibility for extracting those trapped in Garden? If you accept the-"

"I accept!" Responsibility? Fuck yeah, Seifer was so there!

"-there will be a team waiting for you downstairs", Squall finished, reaching behind him to take a file and gave it to Seifer. The Commander's hand shook slightly and Squall looked like he was barely keeping it together so Seifer quickly pulled the file out of his hand before anyone else noticed. He was all for embarrassing Squall, but there was a time and a place for everything, and after a glance at General Garrett, he realized that no, this was not the time for indulging in childish hobbies.

ooo

Selphie adjusted the strap on the M16 assault rifle slung across her shoulder, eyes continuously scanning the horizon. She wasn't used to wearing firearms and the mere presence of one made her jumpy. She was afraid she'd accidentally pull the trigger, carelessly aim it all around, afraid to kill someone with it. She'd seen the damage bullets could do first hand, had even felt it, and she didn't want to inflict those kinds of injuries on anyone.

But with the beginnings of nasty bruises and painful cuts on almost every limb of her body, every muscle aching, it was a security she wasn't willing to give up.

Several hours had passed since the attack, but nothing had been spotted trying to approach them and she was getting restless along with a killer headache. Quistis had been awesome enough to come out and tell her personally that Irvine was relatively alright and that they would try to reach them from the outside, since the air ducts had only gotten the rescue teams so far. But a lot of time had passed since then and no other word had reached them.

"How's it going out here? Damn, it's hot! There's a reason it's only summer a couple of months out of the year. I fucking hate the desert!"

Seifer came stomping through the sand, followed by a ragged bunch of newly examined SeeD's, carrying shovels, buckets and tarp. With the exception of Seifer they all looked nervous, probably not having seen more action than their SeeD-exams.

"Selphie!" Seifer called her over and she grinned as she stopped before him, giving him a hearty salute that he frowned at.

"Don't do that. Commander Asswipe wants me to oversee a rescue attempt made from the outside, wanna lend a hand?"

He made it sound like a tedious chore, but the sentence contained some of Seifer's favourite words and she thought she could detect some pride in his eyes.

He leaned in a little closer to whisper in her ear. "I… uh, my sense of direction is, you know, worthless. Where is…?"

"This way, sir!"

He swatted lightly at the back of her head and ruffled her hair, before he turned back to the newbie SeeD's. "Alright kids, follow me! And for Hyne's sake, watch were you're going. We have enough people to rescue as it is!"They walked around Garden's hull, to the place where it was pressed deep into the sand, deceptively free of visible damages. Most cars had more dents than B-Garden did.

"The Engine room is just behind here", Selphie said, pointing at where she was fairly certain it was located. The Engine Room was the largest room in Garden, only precedented by the Quad in mere height, and rightfully so, considering the size of the turbines inside.

"They say one of the fuel tanks is leaking so the room must be filled with highly flammable gas."

Seifer stood musing to himself, consulting a file. "So we can't weld out a hole to get them at through the hull. Alright people! We have to dig our way in. Lay the tarps out and make sure you pull them a good way away from the hole, I don't want a single dig to be unnecessary, they've been down there too long already. Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

The SeeD's scattered to their places, effective in a way only desperate people can be, and Seifer grinned.

"Addictive, isn't it?" she asked, remembering the first time she'd been made team leader, and the thrill of having her order being obeyed.

He glanced down at her, smirking, but his glee slowly slid off his face as he watched her.

"Hey, you need a break?"

She shook her head vigorously. She didn't want to sit around doing nothing, feeling even more useless than she already did.

"I think Dr Kadowaki needs help in the Infirmary. Quistis can-"

"I wanna stay here, Seifer. Please."

He nodded, reluctantly letting it go, but not before putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, thumb rubbing comfortingly over her collarbone. It's not what Irvine would do when he knew she was anxious, his thing was running his fingernails down her neck, making her purr. But Seifer's strong hand spanned her entire shoulder, and she couldn't hold back the tears the welled up.

She didn't care anymore about transfers or break ups or a possible war with Deling, if this whole mess wasn't an accident.

All she wanted to was Irvine and Zell out of there now. Safe.

"No, no, no. No crying, Selph. You know I can't handle that."

She sniffled, but didn't apologize, not thinking she had anything to be sorry for, and knowing that Seifer didn't think so either.

"Just try and keep it together until we get those brats out of there. And this is a team effort, alright? We all gotta pull together."

She chuckled and wiped off her cheeks. "Hyne, you sound like the recruitment pamphlets."

"Yeah, well Cid made me read the entire Conduct of Discipline once, I guess some of it stuck."

"As a punishment?"

"No", he said sarcastically. "As cultural enlightenment. Hyne, just holding the damn book is a chore."

The SeeD's had started digging, but it went painstakingly slow.

"Isn't there any magic we can use to speed this up?" she asked, eyes following two boys dragging a heavy load of sand away from the dig.

"Like what? Effortlessly-lifting-away-a-ton-of-sand Magic? That's Ellone's department, ask her."

She shoved him in the arm as he snickered.

"I meant, can't we blast it away?"

"I don't know what magic we have that could accomplish that, without making it A) worse or B) go boom. I'm afraid we have to rely on good old-fashioned manual labour."

"As long as it's not yours, right?"

ooo

Zell drifted in and out of consciousness without any concept of the time that passed in between. Whenever he managed to open the one eye that still seemed to be under his control, and encouraged his mind to pay a bit of attention to his surroundings, he always saw the same things: sand, Irvine, the engine mechanic who's name kept eluding him even though the man wore a nametag on the overalls and blood.

Always blood.

The smell of it mixed with the sickening sweetness of the fuel, tickling his nostrils like he was about to sneeze and made him so unbelievably tired that it was hard to stay conscious even if he wanted to.

Sometimes he would wake up and not feel any pain at all, and it scared him more than when he was sure that his ribs were rubbing together like sticks trying to make fire.

He never remained conscious long when in absence of pain and he wondered if it wasn't just a dream.

And speaking of dreams.

His sleep was riddled with them; good dreams, bad dreams, weird dreams and hilariously funny dreams, most of the latter involving Seifer in a bunny-suit. He supposed they were only funny to him, because neither Irvine nor the mechanic laughed when he tried to relay it to the, but he wasn't about to question the content of those dreams, since he'd rather have those than the dreams about Squall.

Those were always painful, even when they didn't end in Squall walking out of his life. It always ached a bit more when what he dreamed were perfect and romantic, because he knew those were dreams. That they weren't real.

The only good thing about it, his injuries and his fickle conscious, was that he had finally come to some sort of closure about Squall. He would give the brunet the time he needed to figure out if their relationship was worth the total chaos it had involuntarily caused and he would respect Squall's decision.

Zell would get over it, eventually; it wasn't like their relationship had been smooth and seamless anyway. They had had too many near misses, false starts and close endings that Zell was doubting they were ever meant to be.

The last things he remembered before everything went blurry again and he plunged back into restless dreams, was promising to never take Squall for granted and seeing a sliver of light, dancing on the opposite wall.

TBC

Phew!

It went a lot easier to upload this time, mostly because I abandoned the whole HTML-business alltogether. And I know that the second chapter in a trilogy is like a conveyor belt of information, so maybe it's not all action and explosions, but hopefully you got something out of it. =o)

Hugs, Z