Legacy

Second story in the Sands of Time series.
by scribblemoose

Chapter 4

Selphie woke with a start, instantly aware of a crippling pain in her neck and a scrap of paper stuck to one cheek. She groaned and raised her head as things swam slowly into focus. Desk. Pencil. Papers. The library. She'd fallen asleep in the library.

Selphie coughed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

It must be early morning or perhaps still late at night. There was no-one else around and the room was in darkness except for a single pool of brilliance from the desk lamp illuminating crumpled balls of paper. Every one of them a failure.

Selphie stretched, winced and fought back the sobs that threatened to wrack her body. The dream again. Probably.

She felt like shit. And she was still a band short.

She took a deep breath and straightened out the sheet of paper closest to her. With a shaking hand she reached for her pencil, and forced her mind to focus. Wondered vaguely where Xu was, if she'd come looking for her... or maybe she'd finally got the message and realised how important the graduation ball was.

Selphie felt a stab of anxiety. The ball was terribly important, and so close to being fucked up it was unbearable. She knew what organised was, and this was nowhere near. If she didn't get her act - and everyone else's - together in the next two days it would be a disaster.

And she'd only have herself to blame.

Selpihe spread fresh paper out on the desk in front of her, and got back to work.

*******

Squall awoke with a thumping headache and a deep urge to kill something. He squinted at the alarm clock by the bed. Six a.m. Too fucking early.

No. Not six. If he opened his eyes properly he could see an extra mark. Eight. Eight a.m. Too fucking late.

Bollocks.

Squall was out of bed and half into his jeans before he remembered he wasn't, in fact, on duty. Not that Commanders got much by way of leave, but he did usually manage a few hours week, and these were they.

Confused, half way between panic and relief, Squall slumped back on the bed. It was Sunday, Rinoa would be home later, and oh, shit, he'd argued with her on the phone over her stupid father and the stupid rumours. It all came back to him, along with the memory of the beer he'd drunk and the card game, and he thought he might even have smoked some of Irvine's grass, but that was probably just a nightmare. He could smell it on his hair nonetheless, sickly sweet and clinging, and suddenly wanted nothing more than a long, hot shower.

And then he'd see about finding some things to kill.

*******

Sanke sat on Frila's bed, and watched her sleep. She chewed her lower lip to stop herself from making any noise, not wanting to wake her but still… She reached out and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, but it sprang right back. Frila's hair was like that. Springier than Deling seaweed.

Sanke very slowly pulled her feet up onto the bed, hugging her long legs flat against her chest, and began to hum. Very softly. She knew this wouldn’t wake Frila, in fact it seemed to do the opposite. A very tiny smile appeared on Frila's lips and she snuggled deeper into her pillow. But still, Sanke kept it low and gentle. Not too much.

Just enough to chase the bad dreams away.

Her face clouded, but she kept her tune light, the song of ocean waves and breeze. Of sand and cloudless skies, of tides and surf and water droplets like clear glass pebbles scattering in splashes on the surface of the sea.

She didn't know how to explain it, this odd sort of feeling. It wasn't anything to worry about, Laguna had said. To be expected, Quistis had said. A natural part of growing up.

Natural or not, Sanke wasn't sure she liked it, not at all.

She might talk to Irvine about it, except the very thought made her cheeks go hot and somehow she knew, just knew that this wasn't the sort of thing a girl should talk to an Irvine about.

Sanke gave a little inward sigh, her singing steady all the while.

That just left Frila. And Frila had so much to worry about already. Exams and tests and she'd been so sad, coming home. Memories, Sanke supposed.

During the day the feelings weren't the same. It seemed ridiculous, a nonsense, absolutely just as Laguna said, nothing to worry about at all. But at night, when things were dark and she lay in bed alone and couldn't help but think…

Sanke suddenly felt very sleepy, even though it was really time to be getting up. She knew the alarm would ring as soon as she'd dropped off, but still…

Still humming, Sanke lay down and wormed her way into Frila's arms, and drifted slowly off to sleep.

*******

Irvine braced himself, straightened his hat and cleared his throat.

He pressed Squall's door buzzer.

The door slid open, revealing a world of gloom, the scent of old beer and stale smoke heavy in the air.

"Hey, man." Irvine stepped over the threshold and peered into the darkness. "You alive?"

Squall appeared at the doorway to his bedroom, dressed only in crumpled boxer shorts. His eyes were shadowed, hair rumpled and damp from the shower.

"Well, you're walking wounded, at least," Irvine observed.

"What?" Squall blinked at him.

"Never mind. It's gone nine. How d'you feel?"

"Like I got flattened by a walrus. A fucking great Trabian walrus."

Irvine snickered.

"It's not funny. And don't even think about curing me."

"Why not?" Irivne let the magic he'd been readying disperse in a fizz of blue smoke.

"Self-inflicted injuries. Read the rule-book, Kinneas."

Squall strode through his debris-laden living room towards the kitchen, Irvine trailing in his wake.

"Coffee," Squall announced, staring at the forest of empty beer bottles on the kitchen counter.

"Here." Irvine located the kettle in a corner and shoved it into Squall's hands. "Fill this with water. I'll take it from there."

Squall scowled and padded to the sink. Irvine clattered about with mugs and spoons and a jar of instant coffee that looked like it hadn't been opened for months.

Rinoa preferred filter coffee, presumably.

"Milk?"

Squall shrugged. "Maybe."

Irvine rolled his eyes and opened the fridge. It was well-stocked. Now that most of the bottles of beer that it had dispensed so readily last night were gone, Irvine could clearly see milk, eggs and little packs of fresh vegetables and fruit cowering in the corners.

"Rinoa shopped before she went away, then."

"Probably. Why?"

"Low-fat yoghurt." Irvine prodded a carton with one accusing finger. "Definitely a girl thing."

"Whatever."

Irvine tugged out a bottle of milk and splashed some messily into the mugs. "Did you plug the kettle in?"

"What d'you think I am, an idiot?"

Irvine looked form Squall to the kettle, and back to Squall. "I wouldn't like to say. But they work better when you turn them on, man."

Squall slammed the switch down and glowered at the kettle. Irvine hid a chuckle as he dived back into the fridge. "Omlettes? Mushroom?"

"I don't need you to make breakfast for me, Kinneas."

"Least I can do."

"I don't even want breakfast."

"You need to eat. You've got all those meetings to get through this afternoon."

"Fuck, you're worse than Rin. You'll make someone a great wife some day, you know that?"

"Think of me as her deputy." Irvine arranged ingredients on the counter and started to crack eggs into a bowl.

"We could get something in the canteern. I'm not sure I trust your cooking."

Irvine might have felt wounded, but Squall looked decidedly queasy. He probably wouldn't trust anyone's cooking just now.

The kettle let out a soft peep as the water reached boiling point. Irvine shoved the bag of mushrooms into Squall's hand. "Chop these. And I mean chop, not decimate."

"I can chop," said Squall, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Good." Irvine pushed Squall firmly in the direction of the opposite counter and turned his attention to the coffee. By the time Squall had finished slicing mushrooms - deftly, of course - Irvine was ready to press a steaming mug into his hand.

"Thanks," said Squall, gruffly.

"My pleasure." Irvine whisked the egg mixture to a froth, dumped the mushrooms in and shoved the bowlful into the microwave. "Might be scrambled rather than omelette," he admitted. "Never can remember how that works. But it'll taste the same."

Squall winced at the loud beeps the machine emitted as Irvine programmed it.

"Drink your coffee," Irvine advised.

Squall stared at the mug in his hand as if noticing it for the first time. He sipped cautiously.

"Long stretch of meetings ahead, then?" Irvine dropped bread in the toaster, arranged plates and knives and forks. Pandering to Duck these past couple of years had made him positively domesticated.

"Pretty much all afternoon and into the evening." Squall took another mouthful of coffee. "Can you still pick Rinoa up from the station?"

"Of course. Said I would, didn't I?"

"Yeah. Just wondered if something had come up in Galbadia."

Squall's tone was flat and non-accusatory. Probably a straightforward question, knowing Squall. But it cut deep, nonetheless.

"'Course not. Besides, it's the graduation ball tomorrow. Couldn't miss that." He forced a grin. "Selphie would kill me."

Squall just about grinned back.

"Feeling better?"

"Thanks to some bastard slipping a healing potion into my coffee, yeah." But Squall's eyes glittered not-too-dangerously, and he was still mostly smiling.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Irvine deftly caught the toast as it sprang from the toaster. "Here. Put some butter on this while I stir the eggs."

Squall picked up a knife and got to work.

*******

Quistis balanced her glasses neatly on her nose and focused on the neatly printed sheets in front of her. Final exam assignments. A list of students down one side, Guardians on the other, locations in the centre column.

All matched at random. Unless.

Quistis had the final say. A chance to change the pitch of the test, to assuage any niggles, any doubts that the student was really ready to become a SeeD. Like Seifer. It went without saying that he got the hardest mission, the toughest Guardian, the biggest challenge, and a team that wouldn't pander to his failings. Same as it had been for Squall, all those years ago, forcing him to lead when he would much rather have acted alone. And Zell, thrown in with the boy who'd bullied him as a child.

Quistis cast her eyes down the list in front of her again. And once more, her gaze stumbled at the same name.

Frila Alfryd.

It wasn't that she doubted Frila's abilities. Far from it. Only a fool would question her bravery after what she'd done and her gunblade skills were second only to Squall's and Seifer's. She wasn't the most dedicated student, but she worked hard to do whatever she needed to do for Sanke. But. There was something nagging at the back of Quistis' mind, and it wouldn't quit.

Frila was allocated to a retrieval operation in Deling. A secret device had been stolen from the client by a rival company, nothing major, some prototype for a new kind of communications chip. The mission itself set the right sort of challenge for Frila: it required patience, teamwork and solid, logical thinking. More brainwork than swordwork.

The assigned Guardian was Vector, the shape-shifter. Providing powers of stealth and camouflage. Ideal for the job. Ifrit and Shiva were allocated to the other candidates, both young rookies who had come through the Garden's new fast-track system, making Frila the obvious leader.

That's what was nagging at the back of her mind, Quistis realised. A team like that would be no challenge for Frila. They'd submit eagerly to her leadership and direction, defer to her completely. Quistis' doubts grew and she cast her eyes once again over the list, searching for something, anything… and then she stumbled over a daring possibility.

She knew it was right. Absolutely right.

But, ouch, all the same.

Sorry, Frila.

Quistis' freshly-sharpened pencil sealed her students' fate with a few swift lines and arrows. It immediately felt better. That was the challenge Frila needed.

Quistis' instincts had never let her down, after all.

Not yet.

*******

Rinoa smiled politely at Minister Fargi and rested her napkin neatly on the table by her half-empty plate. "If you'll excuse me, there's a few matters I have to attend to." She rose from her chair. "Minister. Father." She didn't spare General Caraway so much as a glance. As if last night wasn't bad enough, to invite Fargi to breakfast, of all things… Gemini shifted lazily in her mind, picking up on her anger and hoping for a fight.

It was a very tempting thought. Suddenly Rinoa yearned for the Balamb Training Centre and a nice juicy T-Rex to slaughter.

"… it's a beautiful day," Fargi was saying. "I thought perhaps later on, if your father can spare you, we could take a train ride out to the coast."

"I do have a good deal of work to do." Caraway met his daughter's glare and matched it. "By all means, you young people go out and enjoy yourselves."

Fargi raised a hopeful eyebrow, while Rinoa struggled with her temper. "My train leaves for Garden at fifteen hundred hours," she said, meaing it as an excuse, remembering too late Fargi's tendency towards blind optimism.

"That's settled then," he beamed. "I'll pick you up at eleven thirty. We can take a picnic."

"I'll have my people fix a hamper." General Caraway beamed from ear to ear.

And that was that. Before Rinoa had a chance to overcome speechless dismay the two men had returned the conversation to affairs of state, leving Rinoa gaping like a bloater fish at their audacity.

She forced a smile and left the room. She'd talk to her father later.

Just as soon as she lost the urge to kill him.

*******

Irvine was on his way to Sanke's room, bearing a pack of new, brightly coloured artists' pencils and the inevitable bar of chocolate, when he bumped into a highly-agitated Xu hurtling down the corridor towards him.

"Oh, sorry, I-" He was about to make a joke of it, but one look at Xu's face stopped him short. She looked worried to death. "What's wrong?"

"Have you seen Selphie?" Xu's eyes were pleading, full of panic, not like her usual calm demeanor at all. "She's due on a mission and I can't find her anywhere!"

"Hey, steady." Irvine put a calming hand on her shoulder. "When did you last see her?"

Xu tensed, uncomfortable. "Last night. Dinner time."

"Did you have a fight?"

"That's none of your business," Xu said, almost automatically, and continued, miserably: "She was busy with the Graduation Ball, but… oh Hyne, what if something's happened to her?"

Ether flared in the back of Irvine's mind, picking up his own flicker of panic. Irvine drew subtly on his Guardian's power to soothe himself, briefly contemplated sharing the calming energy with Xu but decided against it. "It's not as if she can get into much trouble here at Garden," he said reassuringly. "Have you tried the cafeteria?"

Xu nodded.

"Training Centre? Library?"

"Of course, yes, I've looked everywhere-"

"Viewing deck?"

"The… no. Why would she go up there?"

"Because it's closed for repairs. If I wanted to hide, that's where I'd go. Come on."

He took her hand and pulled her into the nearest elevator, ignoring her half-hearted protests.

*******

Irvine was right. They found Selphie curled up in a ball on the deck, her hand flailing towards a softly-humming laptop at her side.

"Selphie?" Irvine knelt at one side, Xu the other. ~Ether? Is she hurt?~

A pause and then: ~She sleeps.~

Relief flooded through Irvine; he stroked Selphie's hair back from her face. "She's okay."

"No. Not okay." A fat tear rolled down Xu's nose to splash on Selphie's cheek.

Irvine frowned. He readied healing magic, but Xu stopped him, her fingers pressing into his arm. "No, don't. She can't take Ether."

"Even now?"

Xu shook her head. "Besides, she's been knocking back potions like there's no tomorrow. Look at her."

Xu was right. Selphie's skin had the grey, transluscent cast of magic-fatigue; the shell left when the power had done its job and gone.

"I'll take her mission," said Irvine. "You get her to bed and make sure she gets some rest. Where was she supposed to be going?"

"Ragnarok, with Zell and Nida. A possible Guardian sighting north of Winhill, near the old prison. You sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not. Sounds fun, I haven't been out that way in a while."

"The others are waiting on the Ragnarok, I'll call them and-"

"Leave it to me. Can you get Selphie back to her quarters? Or I could call a med-team?"

Xu shook her head. "I'll take her." She got wearily to her feet, scooping Selphie into her arms. "It's not as if she weighs much, after all."

Worry clenched in Irvine's belly. "Xu-"

"I can take care of her."

Irvine didn't believe her. Selphie was a bundle of grey skin-and-bones and misery; if that was Xu's idea of looking after her… "I'll pop in and see her when I get back."

"Okay. And Irvine?"

"Yeah?"

Xu gave him a smile, warmer than any he'd even known her capable of.

"Thanks," she said.

*******

The metal gangway of the Ragnarok clanked under Irvine's boots as he strode inside. Nida peered anxiously at him from the balcony; Zell shuffled from foot to foot in his usual hyperactive manner.

"Where's Selphie?" Zell asked.

"She's not feeling too well, so I'm standing in," said Irvine. "Let's get started, eh?"

Zell coughed pointedly.

"What?"

"Nida's in command."

"Hey! Nida! you got promoted? I had no idea! You sly old fox." Irvine slapped Nida firmly on the back; firmly enough that Nida staggered forward a step and spluttered.

"Two months ago," said Zell. "You were invited to the party. I think you were busy."

"Was I? Oh. Sorry, man. Did they give you a good time?"

"Yes thank you," said Nida, stiffly. "It was a 'History of the Gardens' theme party. In costume."

"No kidding? I'm sorry I missed that. There wasn't any cider, was there? We all know how you get with cider."

He'd meant it as a friendly tease, honestly he had, but Nida's eyes narrowed and even Zell didn't seem to be amused.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" Nida said. "Just because I don't get wrecked every night and sleep with cadets-"

"Shouldn't we get going, Commander?" Zell interrupted, giving Irvine a shove towards the Ragnarok's cockpit. "Guardians wait for no Seed, after all."

"Of course," said Nida. "Set course, Dincht, while I take Captain Kinneas to the observation deck and give him his orders."

"Why, Commander Nida," Irvine said with his sweetest smile. "That's the most promising offer I've had all day."

Nida remained unamused.

*******

Squall shoved a hand impatiently through his hair, battling with his rising temper.

He really, really didn't have time for this.

"This is a feud between brothers," he said, not bothering to keep the disdain from his voice. "It's not the sort of thing SeeD should be involved with."

Dugas glared at him, beady little eyes glinting through straggles of dark hair. "So SeeD is so rich now it can pick and choose, is that it? I could offer you double."

"You could offer me the moon and it would make no difference," said Squall.

"Ah, I get it. He got to you first, didn't he?"

"Who?"

"Smithson. My brother."

Squall sighed heavily. "This conversation is pointless. You have my answer. I'm not going to change my mind."

"No, I don't suppose you are." There was a raw edge of bitterness in Dugas' tone that Squall dind't like the sound of at all. "This is a sad day, Leonhart. I thought better of you. The day you returned from Ultimecia I was here, you know. In the crowd. Wavig flags and cheering. Thought the world had got a new champion. A hero. Someone who would stand up for the little people. Guess I was wrong."

Squall didn't know what to say to that. Not just because he was furious; he hated talking about that time, even to his friends. It wasn't as if he'd had a choice. He'd just done what needed to be done. He'd never wanted to do anything but be a good SeeD.

"You're no more of a hero than I am," Dugas continued. "You're a young punk who got lucky wth a gunblade, is all. Well, this time you're not on the winning side, Leonhart. You picked the wrong team, and I'm gonna make you pay."

"For fuck's sake!" Squall slammed his fist on the table, rattling cups and pencils and startling Dugas to a flinch. "I'm not on anyone's side. Not yours, not your brother's. I'm here to keep the world safe, not to get involved in petty disputes. It's your business and I'm keeping myself and SeeD out of it. Is that perfectly clear?"

Dugas stared at him for a long moment, while Squall caught his breath and the white anger faded just a little.

"If that's your answer," Dugas said eventually, his voice horribly calm and controlled, "you're an even bigger fool than I thought you were."

"Think what you like," said Squall. "Just get the fuck out of my Garden."

Meeting over.

*******

Frila stepped discretely to one side with no more than a raised eyebrow as Squall surged out of the door and stormed down the corridor ahead of them.

"Someone's in a bad mood," observed Sanke.

"Hmm." Frila peered into the room Squall had just left. She didn't recognise the tall, long-haired man who stood there. He didn't look happy, though.

"I'm nervous," Sanke announced. "Were you nervous on your first day?"

"Sort of. I can't really remember. You've got nothing to worry about, though. You'll fit right in."

"Will I?" A rare mist of doubt clouded Sanke's huge brown eyes as they stopped outside the classroom door. "They'll know, won't they," she said in a small voice. "That I'm different."

Frila caught Sanke's hand and squeezed it tight, stroked a stray tendril of hair back from her face. "Everyone's different, precious. Everyone's special. And no-one's quite as special as you. Remember that."

Sanke managed a wobbly smile. "Thanks, Fril."

They looked up at the classroom door: it looked big to both of them, all of a sudden.

"What if they think I'm Risha?" The little hand in Frila's clung tighter.

"You'll soon show them different. And if anyone, and I mean anyone, gives you trouble, they'll have me to deal with, okay?"

Sanke's smile got a bit brighter.

"So." Frila's finger paused on the doorpad. "Ready?"

Sanke stood as tall as she could, and firmly nodded her head. "Whatever happens, it's better than Odine, right?"

"Oh yeah. I can promise you that. Big time."

The door slid open; a few heads turned to peer curiously at the new arrival. "Good luck," Frila whispered, and gave Sanke a gentle shove.

The last thing Frila saw was the teacher, smiling warmly and indicating an empty seat as the doors slid shut, hiding Sanke from view.

She stood in the corridor for a moment, watching other cadets come and go, and trying not to think. Thinking wasn't good at times like this, she'd found.

Vector stirred lazily in the back of her mind. Unjunctioned, but awake. Weird, twisting, shifting, never resting. Not like any Guardian she'd had before. It was unnerving, to have an unknown entity floating around in her mind the day before a mission - and her final test. And it felt hungry.

She took a deep breath and strode off down the corridor, leaving Sanke and the classroom behind.

Time to go and kill some things.

*******

Irvine stepped back to reload his rifle. Aware, painfully aware, that it wasn't Exeter. The bastard son of a sand-worm would be dead by now if it was.

Instead of which he'd been forced to stand back and let Zell hold the fort while he shoved more bullets into the fucking thing. It didn't feel right. It was heavy and unbalanced and he was sure it was about to jam, and besides-

Everything went black.

There were stars, a castle made of sand, a maze, an ocean, a warm breeze drifting over the Galbadian plains and then…

Nothing.

*******

Frila told herself she'd given up on the training session because of all the people. The Training Hall had been crowded; she'd been spoilt at Esthar, used to having Laguna's expensive training suite all to herself. Here in Balamb there were gaggles of cadets, most of them, like her, facing their final test tomorrow.

Frila hadn't worked through more than half a dozen grats before she felt herself pining for solitude.

It was that, not any stupid feelings of nostalgia, that brought her back to Balamb beach.

There were a few SeeDs strolling across the sand. No civilians; the beach was still off limits to the townspeople and heavily patrolled at either end, where the cliffs gave way to a narrow strip of sand before the sea.

She was surprised, somehow, that it looked so clean. As if she'd expected it to be stained with blood, still. As if hundreds of successive tides hadn't scrubbed it clean.

Inevitably, Frila looked out to sea.

It was calm, just the occasional breaker rolling over blue-green ocean. Tide hissing like the rustling of dragon scales. She couldn't help wondering, for a moment, if she stood here long enough, if she waitied, maybe… even now, after all this time…

But she knew it wasn't true.

Her eyes darted up the beach towards the little knot of blue SeeD uniforms clustered around that particular spot in the cliffs.

Her face was wet. Not just the spray.

She had to go look. Just this once. She hefted her gunblade over one shoulder and set off along the beach.

She should bring Sanke here one day, she supposed. Not yet. One day. When she really understood. There often seemed to be a difference, as far as Sanke was concerned, between knowing and understanding. So little bothered her: everything was an adventure. She took life eagerly, as a gift. No fear. No sadness, not really.

The cave mouth seemed bigger than she'd remembered it.

It had been a rather inconspicuous cave, a mere shadow on the creamy cliff face. But now the thick back seal dominated the chalk, covered in runes and humming with magic. She recognised an Estharian influence in the design.

"Can I help you?" the guard on duty asked, in such a way that Frila was fairly certain he wouldn't, even if he could. "This area is off-limits to cadets."

She bristled. It seemed ridiculous; she'd died in there. But of course, he wasn't to know that. No-one did, apart from the few who had been there at the time. Her choice, and she didn't regret it. She'd barely mentioned it to anyone but Odine, figuring he was the one person who really wouldn’t care but probably needed to know.

Sanke knew, of course. But they never spoke of it.

The guard was getting agitated. "If you have no authorised business here, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave."

Frila was about to comply, albeit sulkily, when something caught her eye. Not part of the seal at all, but a carving, an inscription in the stone to the side of the entrance.

~Here fell Oceanus, loyal Guardian and friend.~

"Who put that there?"

"The seal?" The guard looked startled. "I thought everyone knew, Commander Leonhart…."

"Not the seal, that." She pointed to the inscription with the tip of her gunblade. The guard winced, just darting out of the way in time.

"Oh, that. I don't know, Cadet. But it's a sentiment shared by many. Oceanus was Guard to many of us, especially as cadets."

For an instant recognition flickered between them. He meant it. Frila's throat clamped tight and her shoulders locked solid with the effort of not crying. "I see," she forced out. "Thanks." Her gunblade wilted towards the sand and she turned to leave.

"Wait," said the guard, shrewd eyes burning into her. "Who are you?"

Frila shrugged and half-smiled.

"Just a cadet," she said.

*******

"Irvy? Sorry, man, I couldn't get to it in time. You okay? Irvy?"

The sweet taste of elixir, a thousand bubbles bursting on his tongue.

"Zell?"

A heavy sigh of relief. "Get off your arse, Kinneas. I put it under with a sleep spell but it won't last forever."

Irvine blinked his eyes open. The sun was too bright. He hurt all over, despite the elixir.

Stupid fucking gun.

He reached for it, and was rewarded with nothing but a handful of sand. "Zell?"

"What? You okay?" Zell had already turned back to the monster and was drawing magic from it, readying another spell.

"Where's my gun?"

"Worm got it."

"The worm - what the fuck?!"

"Sorry. Your junction okay?"

Siren shifted in Irvine's mind, grumbling at his sudden withdrawal from the fight.

"Got it." Irvine scrambled to his feet; the sleep spell was already fading and the worm was twitching back to life.

Irvine didn't use magic often, at least not exclusively. He wasn't used to it. He was a sniper first and always, and without his gun Irvine was lost. Zell was fast, alternating between his trademark hand-to-hand attacks and quick bursts of thunder magic. The worm didn't seem to like that at all, so Irvine took Zell's lead and blasted Thundaga at it.

The magic crackled around the creature and it let out a gratifying cry of pain. Adrenaline surging, Irvine prepared another spell.

"I'm gonna call Quez," Zell yelled at him, withdrawing a step or two as Irvine gave the creature another blast.

No fucking worm ate his gun and got away with it. Even if it was a crappy Balamb-issue one. It was the principle of the thing.

Wrapped up in his own vengeance, Irvine saw too late the flaw in Zell's plan. It was only when Quezecotl appeared in her usual blaze of glory that he realised this might not be the best way to subdue a creature vulnerable to thunder attacks. The worm raged, swelling to almost twice its size.

"Shit! Incompatible, Dincht! You've pissed it off big time!"

Too late. Quezecotl's lightning strike cracked down on the worm's head with deadly force. With little hope and a good deal of desparation, Irvine reached out an arm towards the creature.

~Noble Guardian, feel our power! Join us!~

With a howl of anger and a final swipe of it's (surprisingly hard) head the thing knocked Irvine clean off his feet and plunched back into the sand.

A ruffling wave through the ground, and it was gone.

"Shit!" Irvine exclaimed, staggering to his knees and spitting sand out of his mouth. "We sure stuffed that up royal."

"Yeah." The focus came back to Zell's eyes as Quezecotl returned to junction. "Dammit, we could use something that powerful, too."

"It ate my gun," Irvine whined, shoving hia hair back from his face and retrieving his hat from a mound of sand. "I can't believe it did that!"

He looked up to find Zell watching him, an odd sort of expression on his face. "What? What's with the look, Dincht?"

Zell shrugged.

"Spit it out, man."

"It's nothing really, just…" Zell took a deep breath. "How much training have you been able to do at Galbadia?"

"Same as usual, more or less. Why? What're you getting at?"

"You were a bit slower than you used to be, that's all." Zell couldn't quite meet his eye, suddenly intent on readjusting his gloves.

"Slower?" Irvine stood very still. "Hang on a minute. That was one mean fucker. Are you telling me it's all my fault we lost?"

"In a word… yes," said Zell unhappily. "It's okay, we all have off days, I guess. I just wondered if maybe-"

"-If I was spending all my time in Galbadia fucking around and letting myself go when I should be training like a good little Seed?"

"No! No, I mean, not exactly, it's not that bad, I just…" Zell raked his fingers through the thick strands of hair that had escaped his ponytail. "If you need a hand. Someone to train with. That's all."

"I see." Irvine dusted off his hat and placed it on his head. He flicked sand off the arms of his coat. His limbs ached. his ears were still ringing from the slap that stupid snake had given him. "For the record," he said coldly, "it wasn't me who pulled Quez out of the bag and scared the fucker off."

"No." Zell looked miserable. He didn't even argue, just stared at his feet. Irvine could think of a thousand excuses: the rifle; the fact that he wasn't even on duty; hadn't been to the briefing session; he was really doing them a favour. But all of it rang hollow.

He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his duster and turned back to the Ragnarok. Zell was right.

Thing was, he wasn't even sure he cared any more. He just wanted, more than anything, to go home.

Wherever that was.

*******

As she awoke Selphie squinted, as if she'd woken in a bright, sunny place, not the subtle curtain-drawn dark of their bedroom. Her little eyes squinched up tight and she took a sudden gasp, as if coming back to life.

Xu hugged her knees a little closer to her chest, and watched, clasping Selphie's hand in hers.

"I…" Selphie's eyes fluttered open at last, and she looked around. She frowned. "Where?"

"We found you on the observation deck," said Xu, softly. "You were out cold."

"Oh. Selphie blinked in surprise, and started to sit up. "The mission-"

"It's okay. " Xu gently pushed her back into the pillows. "Irvine's taken it for you."

"Irvy? Oh. That's nice of him." A flicker of a frown. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened, I-" Her words were cut off by a shuddering, involuntary yawn. "I'm a bit disorientated, I think."

"It's okay. You don't have to worry about anything, my love." Xu raised Selphie's hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles. "I've talked to the Doctor and she's taking you off active duty for at least a month."

"A month?"

"Yes. A whole month. I've got some vacation due. We could go away. You've been talking about a trip to Trabia for ages. What d'you say?"

"That would be nice," said Selphie, a distant sort of smile on her face.

Her eyes flickered shut, and she very gently tugged on Xu's hand. "Hold me," she whispered.

Xu was lying next to her in an instant, taking her in her arms, dropping gentle kisses on her forehead. She let the tears come silently, falling in Selphie's hair.

"Trabia," said Selphie, in a determined little voice.

And promptly fell straight back to sleep.

*******

Irvine ran from the Ragnarok to Balamb station so fast his legs were like jelly by the time he finally reached the platform. Cursing Nida all the way for insisting on following regulations to the letter and refusing to drop him any closer. He looked around desparately, but the station had that hollow emptiness that came to rest when the trains had been and gone, leaving only the odd folorn friend who'd waved someone off; travellers far too early for the next train; a few dead leaves scuttling over the tracks.

"The train from Deling?" he said to the guard, although he already knew the answer.

"Been and gone an hour since," said the guard. "There's another due at six."

"I was meeting someone," said Irvine, reaching for his phone.

Nida wouldn't let him use it on the Rag.

"Oh. There was a girl, waited for a good while. I think a fella picked her up, though, in the end."

"Oh. Um, thanks."

The guard shuffled off, and Irvine slumped back onto the nearest bench.

She wasn't answering.

He couldn't blame her, either. He'd promised he'd be here. Promised. She wasn't to know he'd been on a mission. It wasn't as if he'd known it was going to take this long.

He picked another number and dialled.

Squall picked up straight away.

"Kinneas?"

A short bark of his name that left Irvine in no doubt that Squall knew he hadn't managed to pick Rinoa up.

"Is she okay?"

"She's in the bath."

"Did someone…?"

"She called me. I cancelled a couple of things and went to get her."

"Thank Hyne. I'm sorry, man, I-"

"I don't want to hear it, Irvine. I had a bitch of a day. Just… I'll talk to you later."

Click.

Irvine closed his eyes and listened to the roaring in his ears, and just beyond the twilight chattering of birds, an incomprehensible train announcement, the whisper of the breeze along the platform.

~Sniper. I hunger.~

Irvine sighed. ~I know. I'm sorry, okay? It's not long now. We'll go back to Duck and Zef's straight after Graduation. Just one more day. Think you can manage that?~

~I can survive for weeks, if necessarily.~ Ether sounded distinctly huffy.

~Not weeks. And you know what? After that I don't think we'll be coming back much any more. We'll stay at Galbadia, sleep with Duck and Zef every fucking night. What d'you think of that, old friend?~

~They are very satisfying,~ Ether said approvingly.

One more day.

Illustrations by PL Nunn: one ~ two

previous chapter ~ next chapter