Come Back

[dr_staceums]

Title:  Come Back
Rating: R
Summary:  Quistis tries to convince Seifer why she needs him.
Notes:  Set several months into the war, will probably be three parts (and available on fanfiction.net as soon as the server works)
Music:  "Farewell" by Dario Marianelli, Atonement Soundtrack


The sky was grey again, as it had been when the war started.  Dark clouds rumbled, but there was no storm. The air smelled burnt, or dry, or stale, or something, but it wasn’t rain.  It was something more sinister.  Quistis couldn’t remember the last time she saw the sun, or blue sky, or green leaves on the trees, or green grass growing in the fields.  It was hard to tell what time of day it was since the clouds rarely parted.  She was sure that she’d spent two months, at the least, out here.
It had been absolute hell doing this.  She was so used to what she was trained to do; she was trained to fight, she was trained to kill.  They were all caught up in war, and war was hell, but she was a SeeD and war was her job.  The war was nothing compared to this.  This was field survival.  This was fucking camping out in the wilderness.  This was asking questions, directed towards anyone who was around - or still alive - and if she was lucky, they’d know a tiny shred of information to maybe lead her in the right direction.  This was following leads like a stupid detective.  This was not part of her job description.

She hated slinking around behind the scenes, sniffing out clues like some sort of shady private investigator, when there was a war going on.  There were battles to be fought.  There were enemies to kill.  It felt like a gigantic waste of time, doing this.  She could scour the entire world and still not find what she was looking for, all the while trying not to get killed by the sorceress’ spies - or even townsfolk who didn’t want to have anything to do with SeeD - but she did it nonetheless.  She’d trekked over miles and miles of landscape - it had once been beautiful and untouched, but the war had changed all that, and now there was nothing but desolation and dust - and hadn’t been any better off than she was over a month ago.

But then, miraculously, she’d come across Fujin and Raijin with a platoon near Winhill.  They’d driven most of the monsters away, but not before the attack.  Winhill was completely abandoned by the time they got there, Raijin had said, and was also completely overrun.  The sorceress didn’t seem to have any business in Winhill, but they stayed anyway, just in case, waiting for orders.  It was there when Quistis had learned of the first real reliable shred of evidence she’d heard in a long time, and for once she had confidence and hope in her mission.  She thanked them, told them to hold the town, and left the very next day, heading for a small, run-down shack of a house towards the east, near the shore, in a place where nobody could find it unless they really looked.

She’d finally found Seifer Almasy.

Searching for a war criminal was hard work, especially when he’d gone through extensive measures to keep from being found.  Seifer wasn’t a SeeD, but he’d come damn close to being one several times, and he had put up a good fight with other SeeDs on numerous occasions, so he might as well have been one.  He knew how to stay hidden.  He knew how to become invisible.  To make things even worse, it was even harder to find him since nobody really ever looked.  Since the Third War started, people stopped paying attention to him.

The Third War was too raw, too real, and too personal not to have Seifer on their side.  During the Second War, Quistis knew that Ultimecia was the one pulling the strings, and that Seifer had regretted everything he’d done afterwards.  He slowly slipped into oblivion, preferring to be left alone, but hadn’t disappeared completely from the public eye, mainly because he’d become so infamous.  Fujin and Raijin kept in touch with him on occasion, but for the most part, people continued on with their lives and the pain of the Second War started to ebb away.

Eight years later, chaos enveloped the world once again, and the Gardens were forced into the Third Sorceress War.  They realized that history was repeating itself, and they didn’t want to risk the possibility of encountering another infamous knight wreaking havoc with his sorceress all over again.  Squall was still with Garden, he was still a SeeD, but he was under constant surveillance.  However, they knew that in order to gain the upper hand, in a twist of cruel irony, they would have to consult with Seifer Almasy to possibly get insider information…for clues, for weaknesses, for patterns, anything that could help, anything he’d experienced before that could repeat itself…

…But he was nowhere to be found.

Now, she was standing in front of a brown shack; a small, old one-story house of sorts, that looked abandoned and probably should have been condemned.  It stood in the middle of nowhere - probably what used to be a field, or maybe a farm - with the shoreline several miles away.  The view was bleak and grey, probably because there wasn’t any grass or sunlight, and a gust of wind threatened to topple the thing like a stack of cards.  It didn’t even look like there was anybody - or anything - inside it, but she had to try.  It was the only lead she had in a month.

It was probably absurd to do so, but she knocked on the door.

There was a moment of silence, but she could hear footsteps on the other end, and the door suddenly swung open.

The breath caught in her throat as she stared up at him.

Despite the war, Seifer Almasy hadn’t changed, for the most part.  His blonde hair was unkempt but still trimmed short.  He was even clean-shaven, only with the shadow of stubble starting to appear.  His scar still looked fresh, even after all these years.  He was still menacing, and had kept his muscle tone by hunting and destroying any prowling monsters nearby.  His grey trench coat and blue vest, discarded long ago, were replaced by a pair of ratty jeans and a grey t-shirt.

He blinked at her, his face blank, as if it hadn’t occurred to him that Quistis Trepe was standing at his doorway.  The initial confusion was replaced by shock; his mouth dropped open slightly and his eyes narrowed.  Eventually, his lip curled into a sneer and he gave her an angry, disrespectful once-over.

“Well, well, well.  If it isn’t the almighty Instructor Trepe.”

Her jaw worked.  She promised herself that his is exactly what he would say, but the nickname still bothered her, even after all these years.  Before she could reply, he opened the door wider and glared down at her with contempt.

“What the fuck are you doing here?  Don’t you have a war to fight?”

“Yes, I do,” she replied carefully.  “Which is why I would like to talk with you.”  She motioned towards the inside of the small house.  “May I come in?”

He ignored her question.  “How did you find me?”

“Fujin.”

He snorted and looked away.  “So much for the fuckin’ posse.”

“They’re fighting the war too, Seifer.  They need you - ”

He shoved a finger into her face angrily.  “No.  Wrong.  Don’t tell me that they need me.  Nobody needs me.  Garden didn’t take me back.  Fuck them.”

“Can you hardly blame Cid, Seifer?  After what happened?”

Seifer looked away, let out another derisive snort and gripped the doorknob, preparing to slam the door in her face.  “Is this why you’re here, Trepe?  To take a walk down memory lane?  Remind me of my mistakes?  How fucking typical.  Hyne, I don’t think there’s ever been a time when you weren’t being such a naggy bitch - ”

She was sick of his attitude already.  “Seifer, are you going to let me in or not?  I’ve spent weeks trying to find you.  I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m not in the mood for - ”

He was already slamming the door.

I guess I’ll take that as a no, she thought angrily, even though she anticipated as much.  She quickly stepped into the frame and slammed her hands into the door to prevent it from closing.  She shoved it back open and stepped through, slammed it behind her, and stared up at him with a hand at her hip, fingering the handle of Save the Queen.

The house had no extra rooms.  On the floor was a plastic crate that had been overturned to be used as a small table, a blanket and flat pillow in the corner, a cup next to the pillow, a few scattered beer bottles, and a sleek silver case with the Firecross mark leaning up against the wall.  It didn’t seem as if he truly lived here.  From the looks of things, Quistis didn’t think he was going to stay for very long, either.

The look of surprise on his face was gone in an instant as soon as he glanced down at her whip.  The familiar black scowl was back.  “What are you gonna do, Trepe?  Huh?  Fight me?”  He spread his arms.  “Go ahead.”

“No, Seifer.  I don’t want to fight you.”

“You’re here to recruit me, then,” he sneered at her.  “Forget it.  I don’t want to have anything to do with the Princess.”

“Don’t call her that, Seifer.  It’s not Squall’s fault she got that nickname - ”

“Tell Squall he can get fucked,” Seifer snapped.  “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying, got it?”

“You won’t even hear what I have to say?”

“Unless you’re just paying me a polite social call, by all means,” he motioned for her to sit on the floor with a smirk that could only be described as malicious and hateful.  “It’s only been eight fuckin’ years.  A high-n-mighty SeeD drops by my doorstep to talk about the shit weather?  Let me break out the hors d’oeuvres.”

Quistis sighed.  “What do you know about what happened?”

“I know that the Princess wanted to become involved in SeeD business,” Seifer crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.  “I know that she wanted to be a fuckin’ humanitarian.  I know that she practiced and became more powerful, and I know that daddy didn’t like it.  In fact, I know that daddy tried to stop it all.”  Seifer snorted and looked away.  “I pretty much knew everything that you knew.  That everyone else knew all along.”

Quistis nodded and looked down.  “Her powers grew, and…and…it was like you told Cid.  It was like before.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to say ‘I told you so,’ but I fuckin’ told you so,” he growled.  “But nobody listened to me then, so - ”

“That’s not true, Seifer.  I listened to you.”

“Gee, thanks.  Sure made a difference, didn’t it?”

“Seifer - ”

“I’m sure you vouched for a war criminal in front of the entire panel, too, risking your entire career over a fuck up - ”

“I did, Seifer.  I pleaded on your behalf to Cid.  He listened, but there wasn’t much he could do because of Edea, and Squall - ”

“Hey, wow, good for you, but it obviously doesn’t fucking matter, does it?” Seifer snarled, rounding on her and motioning across the room.  “Eight years!  Look at me, Quistis!  Look at where I’m at!”

Quistis held her tongue.  Every time she mentioned Edea or Squall’s name, Seifer would turn completely hostile.  She should have known better.

“Now what do you want?” Seifer repeated, turning his back on her.  “There’s nothing that Balamb could possibly offer me - ”

“Balamb’s gone, Seifer,” Quistis interrupted sharply.

He stopped talking.

She swallowed, trying to control the raw emotion from bubbling back up.  It was still hard to talk about.  “All of it.  Just…gone.  The people…they were…”  Her voice wavered and she trailed off.  There was a pause and she cleared her throat softly.  “We tried to save as many citizens as we could…but…”

If he was affected by her words, he didn’t show it.  He kept his back turned, but she knew he was listening.  His head was cocked slightly.

She licked her lips.  “Afterward, we…”  She took a deep breath.  “We regrouped at FH.  Allocated our resources.  Our first priority was to try to eliminate…the growing threat, so…”

Seifer grit his teeth.  They both knew that saying the words ‘growing threat’ was completely pointless, but it probably helped Quistis talk about it.  He knew she didn’t want to say the name.

“The gardens mounted a counterattack at the Timber coastline, but it wasn’t enough.  We couldn’t press any further, but so far we’ve been able to hold our ground.  She was trying to get to Esthar.  FH is the road, and we held it at all costs.  It’s still blockaded.”

His jaw worked.  There was a long pause.  He turned away and stared out the window.

“Seifer…come back,” she pleaded.

“One more footsoldier isn’t going to make any difference.”

“It will make a difference,” Quistis countered.  “Someone with your skill - ”

“You mean unique experience?” Seifer turned his head and glared at her angrily.

“I’ve told you for years that you were a gifted student,” she snapped back.  “Before the war, before the field exam.  You’re still an asset, Seifer.  Put aside your past and come fight with us.”

He turned back to the window and made a fist.  “…No can do.  Sorry.”

“You can’t just turn your back on Balamb,” she pleaded.  “We all grew up there.  It was our home - ”

“Balamb turned its back on me years ago,” he replied flatly.

“Not all of us agreed with that decision, and you know it.  Even Edea wanted - ”

Seifer closed his eyes and shook his head, as if he was trying to get her name out of his head.  “I don’t care what Edea wanted.  Balamb had it coming, if you ask me.  The whole operation was cursed from the get-go, before we were even born.”

Quistis swallowed.  “…You don’t mean that.”

“Sure I do.”

“Then I suppose the orphanage…Ellone…the rest of the kids…me…”  She swallowed again.  “I suppose we never meant anything to you, either.”

Seifer shrugged.  After a pause, he turned and glared at her.  “It was easy, you know.  Bombing Trabia.”

He was trying to drive her away.  It wouldn’t work.  She narrowed her eyes.  “That’s a lie.”

“Is it?  I don’t know, Trepe.  I’ve done some pretty nasty things.”

“You were always an asshole, Seifer, but you weren’t a murderer.  Not willingly.”

He snorted and turned towards the window again.  “Your opinion means so much to me.  Really.”

His sarcasm chafed.  She grit her teeth.  “If you really think that I believe Balamb means nothing to you, think again.”

He rolled his eyes and snorted.  “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“What about me?”

Her question caught him off guard for a split second.  “What about you?”

“Do I mean nothing to you?”

He chewed the inside of his cheek and shrugged again.  “You tried to kill me once or twice, as I recall - ”

“You were the enemy then!  You attacked us!”

“It’s as you said, Trepe.  I wasn’t willingly doing those things, right?”

“Answer my question!”

He grit his teeth and stared out the window, arms crossed.  “No.  You don’t.”

She nodded, looked down, and took a slow step forward.  “Fine.  If none of it really mattered, then why did you always want to play Knights and Dragons with me as a child?”

Seifer set his jaw and didn’t answer.

“Why would you taunt Squall so much, especially after I would fuss over him?  I always tried to pretend that I was Ellone…but it made you so mad…”

No answer.

“You used to call me ‘bossy little Quisty,’” Quistis took another step forward.  “But you would always try to destroy everyone’s sand castles just to get me to yell at you.  Why?”

She saw his chest rise and fall in a controlled deep breath.

“Why did you punch Irvine in the nose after he kissed me on the cheek?”

No response.

“After our second year at Garden, you got into a fight with someone who asked me to the Spring Social.  Why?”

His jaw muscles worked.

“When I got promoted to be an instructor, your detentions went through the roof, most of which I had to monitor.”

Silence.

“And at Timber…” Quistis trailed off.  “At Timber…you said that you would show me, once and for all…why you were better than the rest of them…”  She stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.  “Why?”

No answer.

“Come back, Seifer.”

He immediately turned and grabbed her wrist, yanking her towards him.  He glared down at her, his face twisted in rage, inches from hers.  His anger was palpable, but the tone in his voice was soft and controlled.

“Get out.”

She stood her ground.  “No.”

His face darkened.  “Get out, Trepe.”

She yanked her wrist out of his grasp.  “I said no.”

He narrowed his eyes.  “Why are you really here, Quistis?  Hm?”

The question startled her just as much as his use of her first name.  As much as she knew that he’d ask it, she still didn’t know what to say to him.  She’d rehearsed this answer a dozen times, but now she was hesitant.  She was frightened of the consequences.

Seifer gave her a look of utter contempt.  “You don’t even fucking know, do you?”

Her heart quickened and her mind whirred from panic and anger.  Years of practice still didn’t condition her enough for a successful verbal spar with Seifer Almasy.  Even now, she couldn’t muster the correct response.  By the time she thought she had something to say, he’d pummel her confidence back into the floor.

Seifer turned his face away, let out a mocking sigh of disbelief, then faced her again, teeth bared.  “You want to know why I did all those things?  You really want to know?  Because I liked you, that’s why.  Yeah, there, I fuckin’ said it, but who the fuck cares?  That was years ago.  What difference can that possibly make now?  What difference did it make, ever?  You didn’t do shit at the orphanage, you didn’t do shit at Balamb, and you didn’t do shit after the war.  Your message was loud and clear.  You didn’t want to have anything to do with me; you were always chasing after Squall or too busy with being important.  I was too much of a taint on your perfect little reputation, admit it.  I wasn’t good enough.  I was never good enough.”

Quistis opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her angrily.

“What?  What are you going to do about it now, Trepe?  What?”

His tone was taunting and impatient, as if he was trying to train a dog.  It made her eyes sting.  She glared up at him angrily, frustrated at herself for not cutting in sooner.

“That’s what I thought,” he snarled in her face.  “You’re only here because you need me, not because you want me.  It’s only been eight fuckin’ years, that’s all.  Thanks for the appreciation.”  He pointed towards the door.  “Now get the fuck out of my sight.  After all this time, did you really think I was going to follow you out that door?  You can tell Squall to go fuck himself.  I’m not coming with you.  I’m not coming to fight your war.  I’m going to die however the hell I want to die, and it sure as hell won’t be by obeying orders.”

He turned, ran a hand through his hair, and put his hands on his hips, glaring out the window again.

There was a pause as Quistis took a deep breath to collect her thoughts and maintain her composure.  All she wanted to do was scream at him, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“You’re right,” she replied softly.  “You’re right, Seifer.  I didn’t do anything.  I was too worried about my responsibilities…my station as a role model.  I waited too long, and I took advantage of what I had…and when things fell apart, I realized that.  I realized it too late.  For that, I’m truly sorry.  I suppose there really is nothing I can say to get you to reconsider, but…at least…I wanted to make sure.  I wanted to hear it from your own lips.”

She turned, walked towards the door, and put her hand on the knob.

“Before I go,” she whispered, “I just want you to know…that…I left on my own.  I didn’t ask for permission.  There were no orders from Squall to find you.  I’m not following anyone’s orders.  In fact…I’m the commanding officer now.”

Seifer slowly turned his head to look at her.  He didn’t attempt to hide the look of surprise on his face this time.

“I’ve been trying to find you ever since the Second War ended, but it was almost impossible since you moved around so much,” she continued sadly.  “Then the Third War started, and…I’m sorry if I seem selfish for putting my duty first, but I hope you understand that I had a lot of students to take care of.”

His jaw worked, but he didn’t reply.

“After years of searching and collecting evidence, Fujin finally told me where they thought you might have recently been,” she sighed.  “I didn’t want to waste any more time.  I had to find you.  I knew sending someone else would only be a mistake, and I wanted to speak to you myself.”

His brow furrowed and he stared at the floor.

“But now I know,” she murmured.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause.

“You asked me why I came,” she said quietly.  “Well, why do you think, Seifer?  Why do you think I chased after you that day, when you left for Timber?  I’ve tried to tell you…for so long…but have you ever really listened to me?”

Her answer was unexpected.  He glanced up at her again and examined her, still appearing angry.

“But if it makes no difference, then I’m sorry I bothered you,” she murmured.  “I only thought that…well…you belong with us.”

You belong with me.

She turned, opened the door, and paused.  “Oh…and one more thing…if you want to die your way, then you won’t be happy unless you die with that in your hands,” she motioned towards the sleek, silver case that held Hyperion.  She gave him one last glance, then turned away.

As soon as Quistis closed the door, she hurried away from the house, swallowing back the tears.  Seeing him again was pure torture.  He had stripped her bare, exploited her weaknesses, and was unrelentingly on the offensive, as she had expected.  Years ago, she had been used to it.  Now, it was different.  He meant every word he said.  There was no going back to what once was.  There was never any going back.  He most likely hated her.  He had cast her aside a long time ago.

He will never come back.  He’s gone.  That thought was probably the worst.  It was as if he died.  It was Timber all over again.  She couldn’t hold it in any longer.  Quistis started to cry.  He left because of her.  He didn’t want to be anywhere near her.  And why would he?  She certainly didn’t give him a good enough reason.

She angrily wiped the tears away, chided herself, and continued her trek back northwest, heading straight towards Winhill, refusing to look back, and she glanced up at the sky.  It was still grey, but it was darker.  She would make camp at the same spot she did earlier in the morning, against an outcropping of rocks near a desolate field, and hoped against hope that it wouldn’t rain.

It was risky making a fire, but a small one wouldn’t usually attract fiends, and the wind was cold.  She brought enough provisions for two people, just in case - the thought made her face screw tight, and she forced it back into the pit of her stomach - and kept most of the supplies in a small cranny between the large rocks.  As she huddled against a rock with her back to the wind, she stared into the fire absent-mindedly and wiped a tear away.  It wasn’t long before it was fully dark outside.  Hyne knew how many hours had passed.  She wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.  She buried her face into the blanket she’d wrapped around her and sighed.

That’s that.

Hyne, how she hated failure.

It was time to go home, at least what was left of it.  The only reassuring thought was that the return back wouldn’t nearly be as long, and hopefully the enemy scouts weren’t as abundant.  SeeDs would be waiting for her at the shore.  The first thing she would do when she got back would be to check on Squall, then meet with her troops to get updates and discuss the next plan of action -

There was movement.  A shuffle, off towards the east.  Dirt moving.  It was hard to hear due to the wind, but she was used to the sounds.  Quistis immediately grabbed Save the Queen and crouched, ready to spring.  It was already too late to put out the fire.  Whatever it was, it knew she was there.

Crunching noises, like gravel.  Gravel under footsteps, and the person was walking closer.  Quistis slowly stood and narrowed her eyes.

The tall build of Seifer Almasy came into view once he got closer to the firelight.  He had Hyperion slung over his shoulder and he glared at her with an annoyed look on his face.

“All right, Trepe.  You got me.  When do we head out?”