Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight ❯ Chapter 6 ( Chapter 6 )

Part 6:

Thankful for the late hour and Garden curfew which left the halls empty but for them, Squall and Raijin slipped quietly from Squall's quarters, heading for Cid's, temporarily his, office.

Squall watched the hurried steps of his black boots pound the marble floor, the sound like thunderclaps in the silence of the sleeping Garden. Oblivious to all else, his mind centered on one thought: Seifer. He was alive! Squall refused to think further then that, afraid of where it might lead.

"So what ya gonna do, ya know?" Raijin finally asked in a deep whisper.

But Squall was too lost in himself to hear. All that mattered was getting Seifer back. And getting him back safe. And... and what? He wasn't even sure of Seifer's feelings, so why think about his own? Anything he though Seifer might feel or want was only second-hand. Even his childhood memories might be skewed, if not by the fogginess of time and guardian forces, then at least by change. Did Seifer still feel the same? Could he, after all Squall had rejected?

"Squall! Did you hear me?"

Squall blinked. "Huh?"

"What you gonna do?"

His slight shoulders shrugged under the creaking leather of his jacket. "Aside from getting Seifer back, I don't know. Won't know until we make this phone call."

Raijin dropped back a little from Squall as his pace with the slender boy stuttered. "Squall?"

Squall glanced over his shoulder, his stride unwavering. His storm blue eyes narrowed. Well? Why did Raijin always insist on dragging things out. Just say it! "Hmm?"

"Do you..." the darker boy's gaze drifted to the floor as he nervously bit his lip. With a deep breath his dark eyes lifted to stare intensely into Squall's, the seriousness and concern in them reminiscent of the last few times they had battled during the war with the Sorceress. "Do you think he's okay?"

Squall shrugged and turned away. He better be. "He better be."

*****

Squall's head shot up from his desk at the first shrill ring of the phone. Running a shaking hand through his sleep-tousled chestnut hair, he took a deep heart-settling breath. The thump of Raijin's boots dropping off the edge of his desk drew his startled, storm-cloud gaze. Their wide, wild eyes met, somehow orienting and calming each other. The phone rang again.

Biting a pouty lip, Squall snatched up the receiver. "Balamb Garden, Headmaster's Office, Squall Leonheart speaking. How may I help you?"

"Ah, Mr. Leonheart, it is such a pleasure to speak with you. I believe you called regarding our...services?" replied a soft, friendly voice with the professional and tempered tones of a practiced salesman.

Squall swallowed, clearing his throat of the tightness of rage creeping into it. His storm blue eyes narrowed as he forced his voice to a pleasant tone. "Yes, I ... I have a card..."

"Yes, yes. I'm curious how you came by it Mr. Leonheart." Squall's heart stuttered for a moment at the words, but the voice had sounded free of any suspicion, only cheerful curiosity. "We are rather particular with whom will receive an invitation."

His eyes darted to Raijin, like the muscular boy was his anchor to control. He couldn't fail. Not so easily and so soon! For Seifer's sake he had to succeed. Or...

"Uh, yeah. Well..." He let his breathlessness seep into his voice, shifting it from the nervousness of desperation and anger to the nervousness of a shy teen, all within his range of feelings at that moment. "I got it through General Caraway. A friend of his. I guess they thought I would be interested in the opportunity." Just not the way the 'Palace' thought.

"Ah, I see. Yes, indeed. We had considered sending you an invitation, a 'Key', if you will, Mr. Leonheart. But you're dating General Caraway's daughter, are you not?"

"Uh, yes. I am. But... some opportunities can't be missed. Guess they thought so too. There is much I owe the Knight for what he has done." Much more than Seifer, or even he, may realize. He certainly owed his former rival freedom from being used like a... a...

Raijin jerked forward, his dark eyes glaring, hands clawing white into the armrests of his chair. With a finger to thinned lips, Squall waved him back, to calm down and keep quiet. Raijin reluctantly complied, thick arms wrapped over his broad chest in agitation.

"Mmm." The man sounded pleased with Squall's answer, even amused. "Well, as I said, we had considered offering you an invite. You, of all men, deserve this 'opportunity'. As such, I am prepared to offer you not only a discount on the fee, but you may have the Bloodcross Key for a full twenty-four hours instead of our customary one hour."

For what he had in mind an hour would be more than enough. "Thank you."

"No, Thank you. You saved us all from the Knight and his Sorceress. For that, everyone is grateful."

If they were so grateful, then why did he have to pay at all? Not that it really mattered. He doubted those at the 'Palace' would be quite so 'grateful' once he was finished with it. "I, and my... friends..." The word still felt strange to him. "...only did what needed to be done."

"Oh, such humility! How delightful. So, when would you like to partake of your Key?"

"Well, I've taken the day off. So today?" He hoped he hadn't sounded as desperate as he felt. But to let Seifer remain imprisoned for one more day, one more hour, was unthinkable.

"Excellent! It will take us a little time to prepare him for you."

Prepare him? He didn't want to know exactly what that meant, Except it meant that much more time Seifer wasn't free. And safe. "No need. I want him just as he is."

"My, my. An anxious one," the man chuckled.

"He's gone long enough without some sort of... payback." Raijin's leather chair creaked as the larger boy bristled against his words. But to the boy's credit, he remained silent. Hopefully the words were as convincing to the man they were meant for.

"Mmm, yes. Well, that's what we're here to provide."

Good! All he needed was that most important bit of information. "So, how do I get there?"

"You'll find the Palace just on the outskirts of the Deling City. We've converted a ruin from Hyne's era. I think you will find it almost as appealing as your prize."

The man continued, giving more detailed directions as Squall scribbled the necessary information furiously on a notepad, editing out the man's random commentaries and compliments. Fortunately, the few 'Mmm hmm' 's and 'Yeah' 's were sufficient to keep the information flowing. Otherwise, he didn't think he could have hidden his rising impatience and anger.

Even locked away in some strange prison as far as Deling, Seifer managed to stir his emotions. To cause him to react instead of reason. To show what he felt instead of hiding it safely away where no one would know. It was only through years of discipline and what, who, was at stake that enabled him to keep himself under control. To be the Squall everyone thought him to be and get the job done.

"Thank you," Squall finally said after what seemed hours of silence, listening to the man ramble further instructions, stabbing his pencil into the last of the directions. "I will be there within the hour, maybe two at most."

"We're looking forward to your arrival."

Not if the man knew what they had planned. The bastards! "I look forward to claiming my prize." With the man's goodbye, Squall hung up the phone, the pencil snapping in two in his other hand the only thing keeping his control enough to not slam the receiver down.

"Well?" Raijin scowled, his dark eyes glaring.

"Don't look at me like that. I said what I had to so we can rescue Seifer."

Raijin's features softened in relief. "Oh. Well I was beginning to wonder, ya know," he sighed.

"Yeah, I know. Hopefully he was convinced." Squall rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well. Let's get going."

"So what's your plan?" Raijin asked as he rose from the chair and headed for the door. Squall tore the directions from his notepad, stuffing them in his pocket and followed.

"Get Fujin and a few quick combat supplies, and we'll leave right away." They strode across the entryway toward the elevator. "I don't want to make Seifer stay in that place any longer, even if he is to be left alone until I get there. I'll figure out the details on the way. It'll take us about an hour. A little less if we push it."

With a whoosh the doors opened and they stepped inside. Squall reached over to the keypad, punching the button for the first floor with his thumb.

"So, it's just the three of us?"

Squall nodded solemnly. "Yeah, as few people know what's happened to Seifer, the better. He won't want anyone to even know he was captured, no less why. It would destroy his pride."

"Yeah. I don't know what he'd do if everyone knew." Raijin paused, staring down his shoulder over to Squall as they waited to for elevator to stop. "Squall, you're not so bad, ya know."

"Uh, thanks." he murmured, glancing up at the larger boy, his brow furrowed in shy confusion. Silence filled the space between them, the only hint of sound the faint heaving of their adrenaline quickened breath. Suddenly, the ping of the elevator shattered it.

"Now let's get Fujin." Squall said as he stepped into the hallway.

"Aw, shit!" Raijin froze just outside the elevator door and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand.

What now? "What?"

The brawny young man shook his head slowly, distressed. "I am a dead man. Fujin's gonna kill me." He buried his face in his hands. "Then give me a Phoenix Down so she can kill me again, ya know!"

What the hell? "Why? What did you do? You've been with me all night."

Raijin's hands dropped to his sides in despair. "That's just it! I left her locked in her closet. I am dead, dead, dead."

Squall raised an eyebrow. "Why the hell is she locked in her closet?"

"Well, uh, she was really upset by the news about Seifer and I had to lock her in there so she would calm down, ya know. I am afraid of what she would have done if I hadn't, she was so mad. But, I'm more afraid now, ya know."

Squall shook his head, his wild chestnut bangs brushing in front of his tired eyes. "Well, she better wait until after we get Seifer to kill you," he said, forcing the barest hint of a smirk. And they would get Seifer even if he had to do it by himself.

"Gee, thanks, man." Raijin grunted, rolling his eyes.

******

It had to be enough. It had to be! Seifer groaned as he rolled onto his side, the black carpet stinging his raw skin. The black gown he had awaken in days ago...Or was it weeks ago?...He was no longer sure of what year it was, no matter what week, or day, or hour, his mind a blur of pain, humiliation, and the endless faces of those he wronged finally finding their revenge. The black velvet clung to his aching body in tatters. Not that the material covered much of his otherwise naked flesh, but it was better than nothing. Though, it shouldn't have mattered to him anymore. After all that had been done to his body, to sink any lower in shame didn't seem possible.

He buried his deadened, pale face into the soft blackness beneath him, his fingers clawing the carpet's thick threads. Couldn't there be another way? He couldn't take any more. How could he be of any worth to them now? What satisfaction could there be in defeating the already defeated? Already beyond defeated. He had nothing left to offer. A stumble away from a living death, a fall into oblivion where nothing of him existed. All of his essence, his life, his soul, sucked from him, leaving a hollow shell. A shell even less use to anyone than he had been at the fullness of himself

Seifer drifted so deeply in numb haze he missed the click of the door to his prison. However, his body did not. Instinctively, the twitch of his muscles descended into violent trembling. His heart raced and stumbled with each thundering step approaching him.

"Hello, Knight-Whore," an all too familiar thick voice sneered.

Seifer choked on the oily stench of rancid tobacco and the man's sweat as thick fingers grabbed him roughly by the arm and yanked him slightly upright from the floor, while another stubby hand grasped him by the chin. A tobacco-stained thumb pressed into his pale cheek, the hand jerking his lifeless gaze to the huge man squatting before him.

"It's a pity I won't have enough time to play with you now." One of the man's hands slithered up Seifer's leg, sliding under the ragged gown to fondle his bruised, rounded flesh, fingers dipping into the sore crease between. "I do enjoy your lovely ass, but your next customer wants you as you are," the man said with a lewd smirk, licking his thick lips. "And it wouldn't be right to disappoint such an important man. So we'll just have to wait until he's done with you."

Just being near the man brought an acidic sting to the back of Seifer's throat as his stomach spasmed to be sick. But to be taken, violated, yet again, by the disgusting bastard... sweaty, slick flesh slithering over his own, forcing itself into him... Seifer didn't have the strength or will to fight back a whimper. No more. Not again. Not another one.

"I just came to tell you to be on your best behavior. He'll have you for longer than usual, so you better please him the entire time he's here." The man stood, the air stirring with the stale, sour smell that clung to him. His vast, brightly-colored robes swaying with the movement and the jiggling of his flabby flesh.

"Maybe, if you're really good, we'll give you some time off." The man patted Seifer's drooped head like one would a dog, thick fingers roughly rumpling his dulled gold hair. "Not that you deserve the consideration." A tug at the back of his head, then the hand was gone. And soon after, so was his vile captor.

*******

The door clicked again. This time Seifer roused from his fog of despair, desperate to please the his chief tormentor by pleasing in any way the newest one sent to execute his punishment. Any time of being 'free' was worth what he may have to endure to earn it.

"Master?" he whispered, his throat too dry and sore to speak much louder. Seifer raised his head, careful to not lift his eyes higher than ankle-level, while he struggled to bring his weak limbs into a respectful kneel.

Dimly, the black leather pants and polished boots reminded him of a past he begged to forget, the anguish of what he lost and what he could never have, or deserve, too intensely painful to bear.

The boots stilled at the doorway, prolonging his torment with silence and the unknown.

"Seifer!" an all too achingly familiar voice gasped. The voice in his long-ago dreams. And the last voice he ever wanted to hear again. Not here.

His glassy eyes shot upward, falling upon the beautiful face he dreaded to see. "No! No, no, no... not you too!" he sobbed, cowering against the side of the large bed, wishing it's blackness would swallow him like the blackness in his soul.

****

Squall stood, paralyzed, in the doorway, his worst nightmares of how he would find Seifer not even coming close to the shock and horror of the truth. He could have imagined his rival torn to bloody pieces easier than the pitiful broken thing staring at him wildly with glazed blue eyes.

"Seifer?" He stepped forward hesitantly, blinking in disbelief that the trembling young man curled on the floor could ever be Seifer Almasy.

The blond clung tightly to the black coverlet hanging off the bed, pale pink lips quivering as dry sobs caught in his throat. "No! No! No!" he muttered like an anguished chant and collapsed onto the black carpet, drawing himself into a tight ball, a shredded black cloth barely covering his bruised body.

"Seifer?" he said again, gently. It couldn't be Seifer. Couldn't! Seifer was strong and confident and passionate and... alive. Not... not....

His hands clenched into fists, the leather of his gloves creaking softly under the strain. They would pay for whatever they had done to Seifer Almasy. Pay severely.

Squall strode forward. His usual mask of apathy had shattered, like his former rival, as the rage roiling within him broke to the surface. Not even the soft carpet could blunt the anger in his jarring steps.

However, the dead blue gaze and choked sob as Seifer weakly lifted his head halted him as surely any solid wall.

"Please. Not you! Not you!" Those pale blue eyes, lifeless and cold, glimmered, though no tears fell or stained Seifer's ashen cheeks. His body shaking, Seifer raised himself to his knees, crumpling against the side of the bed when his quivering arms failed to hold him. "I deserve it, but please... don't!"

Deserve it? What did he think? "S..Seifer, it...it's me. Squall." Squall stumbled a step forward. "I'm not here to hurt you, I'm taking you home. We're getting you out of here."

"No! Go away!" the blond cried, burying his face in the black coverlet. "Leave me alone!"

Alone? "S...Seifer." How could Seifer want to stay? It was obviously a hell for him. The Seifer he knew would never beg for anything. Even in defeat, he had always been strong, never gave up. That was one of the things he most admired about him: his persistence, that passion to fight on, even when everything was hopeless. And even when it was irritating to be the object of it, Squall still respected him for it.

But the fight was gone now. Seifer had been losing the passion for life before all this, and to look at him now...

Driving away the surge of undefined emotion tugging behind his eyes, Squall crouched down beside Seifer, laying a hesitant hand on a broad shoulder, the black of his glove merging with the black of the feathers from the strange black rags Seifer wore.

"Everything will be okay now," Squall said, collecting all the calm he didn't feel into those few words.

The blond tensed, flinching under his touch, and Seifer's trembling broke into deeper sobbing. "No! Please! Go! It'll never be okay. Never! I must pay for what I've done."

"What the hell are you talking about? Seifer, we got to get out of here. To where you'll be safe."

"No! I deserve to be here. I can't leave. Go! Away! Go away!" Seifer struggled to pull away from him, but seemed to lack the strength. He groaned, drawing his arms over his head like it would hide him.

What the hell was he saying? How could he not want to leave? "How can you say such a thing? You can't want to be here?"

"No," Seifer admitted in a resigned whisper. "But I have to."

"Have to? You're not making sense." He couldn't be crazy enough to think being sold like a... a... Squall bit his lip as if it somehow prevented the reality of Seifer's abuse from forming itself into a recognizable word, thus making it truth.

"Retribution. Revenge. Punishment. I have to make up for what I've done." Seifer paused, his fingers clawing into his scalp. "For what I... I've done to you," he whispered with a sadness which carried beyond his rasping voice.

He did! The fool thought he should be punished like this. That he should be punished period for some witch from the future robbing him of his will. Oh, shit! No wonder. "Snap out of it Seifer!" Squall growled, shaking the battered blond by the shoulders. "We don't have time for this."

"Why do you care, Leonhart? When did you ever care? Why can't you just ignore me now, like you always have? Just leave. Leave!" Seifer curled tighter into himself, his voice so much like the little boy on a beach so many long years ago.

The same pained, broken sound. Yet deeper. Endlessly deeper, filled with the pain and anguish of a life that little boy could have never imagined in his most horrible nightmares. But it lacked the fire, the passion, of the Seifer he had known then, even the Seifer he had become. Like a final blow had struck the fragile creature Squall realized Seifer had always been, that had been so close to already shattering since his defeat, Seifer was dying inside.

Squall's eyes widened, then quickly shut as welling tears threatened to fall. Enough was enough. "No," he said simply, and as free of emotion as he could force.

"Please, Squall. I'm not here. You didn't find me."

He wasn't going to lose him this time! "I said no!" Squall glared at the young man trembling on the carpet.

"Just...just go away. Forget about me, like you always do. I can't fight you anymore, so I am no use to you. I'm no use to anyone but them... here"

"Seifer!" Yanking the blond by the arm, Squall rose, his voice a dangerous hiss. "If you don't shut up and get your ass out of here, I will drag you out of here myself!"

Seifer hung his head, his arms wrapping tightly around his body, shuddering, tiny glints of silver light falling to the blackness of the carpet. "I ..I'm sorry, Squall. I..."

"Not now," Squall said much softer, as he snatched Seifer's trenchoat from where it hung on the bedpost. He draped the long, gray coat over Seifer's broad shoulders and urged him forward. "We have to escape first."

Nodding slowly, Seifer limped towards the door, brushing the back of his hand across his downcast eyes. With a sigh, Squall followed, his heart aching and his own tears forced aside.