Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Homecoming ❯ Part 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Author's Note: Firstly, in order to not spoil elements of this story, I can't reveal which part of the game it contains spoilers for. So be advised that if you haven't finished the game, and don't want any of it spoiled, it would be best to wait until you have before reading this fic.

Also, I'm toying with a few usually assumed perspectives on certain game elements. I thought they would be interesting; One being a new angle on the `was Seifer mind-controlled or willing?' debate. That's about as much as I can reveal of both my motivations and the plot.

And as always, the story and the characters (Well, Seifer... of course.) are running the show. I lost control probably about the beginning of the second scene of the first chapter. So I hope you enjoy the ride.

Disclaimer: Squaresoft owns FF8 and it's characters, not me. I'm just having fun with them.

Warnings: Yaoi, angst (always), foul language, possible violence/graphic violence.

Pairing: Seifer/Squall (Just trust me on this one.)

Comments and criticism are welcome.
E-mail: neemeister@home.com

Part 2:
He had settled down, for what seemed to be the night, under a overhang of rocks, the shade a cool respite from the dry heat. The sky had darkened to a deep blue-gray, clouds still thick and hiding sun or moon. A family of small lizards skittered away from him, deposed by Seifer's long body from the home they had temporarily claimed as their own.

"Hey, be thankful I'm not cooking you for dinner," he smirked after them with a chuckle.

He took a quick swallow from the water-flask, accustomed enough after the day's travel to its murky taste to actually feel refreshed. After wiping his moistened lips with the back of his hand, he recapped the flask and set it aside. Bunching his trenchcoat into a mock-pillow, and resting his head wearily upon it, he slept.

The next morning he rose to sunlight slowly creeping into his shelter, pushing back the cooling shadows. After a quick breakfast of the dried meat and water, he once again set out for the supposed Esthar Airstation. Reasonably bandaged and nourished, his trek progressed far more smoothly than the previous day. Plus, much of the terrain he followed had leveled to rocky plains, then merely flattened dirt, and then, eventually, sparsely tufted with dry grasses.

As the sun began dipping toward the dark blue-brown haze to the west, a low, even rumble fell from the sky. Covering his eyes from the sun's glare, he looked up. A dark, bird-like shadow streaked to the east across the pale, blue-gray, trailing a tail of misting white behind it.

"I'll be damned! There probably is an airstation nearby." Seifer's blond brows lifted in surprise, then he shook his head. "Well, shit. Talk about your strange coincidences."

With a shrug, he continued onward, using the slowly fading stream of white as a marker back to the aircraft's likely origin. Luck seemed to be on his side.

Just as the last sliver of sun disappeared into the horizon, Seifer sighted a smooth square of uniform gray crossed with thin lines of the same, in contrast to the rich green surrounding it. Tiny shapes, like boxy pebbles, clustered on its western edge, a single monolith rising in their midst, glittering in the fading sunlight.

Seifer grinned in triumph. Whatever and wherever it was, it was man-made. Man-made meant people. People meant civilization. And Civilization meant a way home. He resisted the urge to shout for joy, and instead settled for a quiet, heart-felt laugh.

"Nothing can keep Seifer Almasy down." His smirk was so wide it crinkled his eyes. "Not a damn thing! Heh, sometimes I`m so amazing, I amaze myself."

A burst of energy in his steps, he strode ahead, like a lord returning to his castle, trenchcoat billowing behind him, a rushing breeze ruffling through his tousled, dirt blond hair. Add a white horse, and it would have been like something from the movies and books he loved so much. Tales of chivalry, and honor, and knights. Knights slaying dragons, protecting fair maidens, or as in his romantic dream, a sorceress; Seeing her safe from the harm of those who wouldn't understand her power and would fear her for it. And he, more than most, understood being misunderstood.

A twinge of gloom washed over him, dampening his good mood. He was tired of no one accepting him for the way he was. Tired of working his ass off to become a SeeD and failing every time. All because his nature resisted acting like a mindless drone. Resisted acting like Zell; Zell-kiss-ass-tattle-tale-chicken-wuss-Dincht. Or like Gloom-boy Squall.

But at least Squall had potential. Squall could be roused to dare the daring, brave the bounds of possibility. Sure, he needed a friendly, little, encouraging nudge. But Seifer knew just where to nudge. And honestly, was the only one who knew. That much was obvious. Then again, he was the only one who bothered to approach Squall on terms Squall understood. On terms they both understood.

Yet, in all his life only one person truly understood him, the him down deep he rarely showed. Only one listened to his dreams, his sorrows, and filled his heart with a love so warm the cold of the world could never touch him, no matter how often he failed in his dreams. And no matter how far apart they were, their hearts would always be one.

He smiled, the gloom lifting, chased away by a sweet, undying love.

The sun had fully set by the time he approached the base. Floodlights illuminated the area in a dome of bright white. Glowing red and blue dotted the runways like a string of luminous beads.

A large sign spanned the wide opening in the chain fence surrounding the complex. As Seifer looked up at it, he blinked. 'Esthar Airstation' was scrawled in neat letters across the brilliant white in slightly sun-faded red paint.

"Shit! This... this can't be!" Seifer stammered, his eyes twin flecks of blue in a field of huge white. "It's impossible! Impossible!"

"What's impossible, son?" A deep voice suddenly asked from out of nowhere.

Seifer jumped at the sound, surprised both by it and the fact that it had surprised him. He had to be slipping, or loosing his mind, or both, to let an unknown so close without noticing and being at the ready.

Quickly turning to his right, he saw a husky, uniformed man, shorter than he was, but broader, approach him, a rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Uh, hello," Seifer replied with a nervous grin. Not good. Not good at all to be so edgy. "I, uh, was just wondering were exactly I am."

"Where!" The guard's thick eyebrows scrunched together, then he pointed to the sign. "Can't you read, son?"

Seifer took a deep breath, smoothing his hand through his hair. `Do not get pissed`, `Do not get pissed`, ran through his head like a chant. "Well, yeah, but... You see..." Fuck it. The guy wasn't going to believe him. Hell, he was beginning to wonder. Telling him that last Seifer remembered he was about to kill President Deling and save a lot of people a lot of misery and then, suddenly, he was in the middle of fucking nowhere, wouldn't be very helpful.

"...Ah, nevermind. Do you know how I can get to Balamb from here?"

"Balamb?" The guard made an amused snort. "You're a bit far from Balamb, son."

"So I've been told," Seifer muttered with a wry grin.

The hulking man's head abruptly quirked to the side and he moved closer to Seifer, studying him. "You know, you look familiar."

"I do?" Seifer took an unconscious step back. Oh wonderful! What if the guy had seen him on the broadcast from Timber? He could be in deep shit. Aside from not exactly being in prime condition if worse came to worse, he didn't want anyone getting hurt unnecessarily; He just wanted to get home. "Uh, I don't know why. I'm not from around here."

"Hmmm."

"Listen, I `m just looking to get home. If you could give me directions on how to get to Balamb, that would be great," he said, flashing his most charming `Almasy smile'. Who could resist? But for some reason it didn't work. How could it not work? Instead of relaxing, the guard stared at him more intently, fingers tightening on his rifle.

Recognition sparked the guard's dark eyes, and he frowned. "I know you! You're Seifer Almasy!"

Or, maybe it had worked? Too well? "Yeah..." Wary, Seifer took another step back. What did the man think he knew about him? It`s not like he had that infamous of a reputation. Fuzzy though his memory of the day before was, he knew he hadn`t actually killed Deling. Hadn't even harmed a hair on the bastard's tyrannical head. But somehow Deling had escaped... And... and ...

Aww, fuck it! He never overly analyzed things in the past, why the hell start? It would only get him into trouble anyway. "So ...?" Seifer shrugged. Well, he never claimed diplomacy was his strong point either.

"So? So?" The guard lowered his rifle from his shoulder and aimed it towards Seifer.

"Woah! Hey now, Happy, that's not necessary." Holding up his only free hand in a dissuasive gesture, Seifer's other curled discretely around the hilt of Hyperion at his side. "If I didn't know better, I would be starting to get nervous. I don`t know what you think I`ve done, but it`s all a misunderstanding."

"There's no misunderstanding, Knight. Now put down your weapon slowly and no one will get hurt." The guard's intense expression chilled Seifer with the dire seriousness of the situation he had fallen into.

What the hell? Was everyone he met a complete loon? Okay, the flaky old guy seemed to be right about the whole Esthar Airstation thing. But this guy was totally nuts. Probably disgruntled over how boring his job was and craved a little excitement. But hell if Seifer Almasy was going to be that excitement! The guy should take up Triple Triad or something. Anything that didn't involve bullets and Seifer's flesh would be a nice start. A damn nice start!

"Listen. All I want is to get home. I don't want any trouble. So, I'll just be walking away now." Seifer began carefully backing away. "See, I leave, you don't shoot me, everyone's happy." Maybe that diplomacy stuff wasn't so difficult afterall.

"Stop right there! I'm placing you under arrest."

"What the hell?" Oh, for fuck's sake! If he hadn't been standing there, rifle-barrel at his chest, he would have rolled his eyes and thought it all some idiotic joke. "Hey, I'm sorry your job is so miserable, but no need to take it out on me." Another backward step, Seifer's eyes were riveted to guard's shaking hands and the rifle within them.

"I said stop, or I'll shoot."

Enough! Seifer had enough. He was officially pissed. Obviously no amount of talking was going to get the idea through the lunatic's thick head that Seifer wasn't a threat and just wanted to be on his way, minding his own business; Just wanted to get to Garden.

With a whirl of his light-bleached white coat, and a flash of silver, Seifer rushed the guard. A shot fired. But whether it found its target or not, his adrenaline and momentum surged him forward, oblivious to all else but the opponent before him. Ducking to the side, his body remarkably quick and agile for his tall, muscular frame, Seifer moved behind the guard like a ghost on the wind. The blunt handle of Seifer's gunblade and a well-placed blow to the back of the man's head crumpled the guard to his knees.

Without a pause, Seifer snatched the rifle from the guard's limp hands and ran into the night, splatters of red trailing behind him on the pale concrete.

(end part 2)

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