Come Back

Title:  Come Back (Part 2)
Rating: R
Summary:  Quistis tries to convince Seifer why she needs him.
Notes:  Set several months into the war.  Planning on doing this in three parts, but it could be more.  Also available on Fanfiction.net.
Music:  "Silhouette of a Life" by 10 Years

Two weeks and three days. Quistis had been keeping track. It had been over two weeks since they departed for Winhill. They had almost a month to go, and she didn't know how they were going to last.

She wasn't worried about survival. She'd brought enough provisions. She'd brought enough food. If necessary, they'd hunt something edible and roast it over a small fire. They were skilled enough to know how to survive out in the field, evade enemies, and fight off monsters.

Survival was easy. Surviving each other, however, had proven to be an uphill battle.

Quistis thought that the hardest part would be to face him…to convince him to come back…to get him to listen. That night, she was sure that she'd failed completely in that regard, but after several hours sitting near the campfire alone, she suddenly found herself staring straight at him. He came. He didn't offer a reason, and he wouldn't engage in the small talk at all, but he came.

"Don't fuckin' ask me why I followed you," he pointed at her menacingly. "As a matter of fact, don't even say anything if you want me to come with you." He lifted his hand and pinched his index finger against his thumb. "I'm already this close to changing my mind, so don't even think about asking me any questions about my deep, dark past. I'm here and that's that, so don't get all bitchy and naggy with me just because you're the Commander. I won't take orders from you, got that? I'm not one of you. Don't expect me to act like one of your students, and I'm not your personal bodyguard, either, understand?"

All she could do was nod and purse her lips. She dared not speak. She was still in shock that he was even there, talking to her. After he was finished barking out his frustration, he stared at her angrily with his arms crossed, expecting her to retort something smart.

There was an immensely long pause.

That night, she'd let him do and say whatever the hell he wanted, as long as it meant he was coming back with her. She wasn't going to argue.

She glanced at her rucksack and motioned hesitantly. "…Would you like something to eat?"

He seemed surprised at this response. "…Yeah. I'm fuckin' starving."

Two weeks and three days. They walked across the desolate field in single file to hide their numbers and somewhat mask the footprints. An enemy wouldn't bother following a single track. It had to have been at least midday, but there was still no sun. The wind blew dust and dead grass across the land – it must've been a wheat field or prairie at one point in time – but it wasn't hot like a desert and only got a little chilly at night. They were in a temperate zone, for the most part, and it was towards the beginning of the fall season. Quistis was behind Seifer, staring at his back as he walked, lost in thought, wondering how on earth she'd be able to put up with this for one more month.

For the first few days of their journey she was ecstatic, despite his sour attitude, which she had expected anyway. What did it matter? She finally found him, she was finally able to speak to him, she had told him the truth, and he came.

…But what did that mean, exactly? Did he come because he wanted a piece of glory? Did he want to be a part of the war? Or did he come because of what she said to him…how she felt? Well, she didn't say it outright, but it was implied, and surely he must've understood.

…Right?

"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?"

It was the way he said it. He made it sound so inconsequential. He made it sound as if he really could care less now. Besides, he was right; it had been over eight years. They'd been through so much since then; anything that could have happened between them – but didn't – was before the Second War and seemed like ancient history now. Besides, by the way he was acting, it was almost as if she was the inconvenience. A pebble in his shoe. It was entirely possible that he didn't come for her at all.

She thought that the hardest part would be to get him to come back. Now she realized that was actually the easy part. The hardest part was this. They had gone north on foot for days on end in complete silence. Seifer refused to engage in conversation with her, and she was too nervous to say something wrong and set him off. It was becoming clear, however, that he wasn't happy about his own decision, and she was afraid that one morning he would glare at her like he usually did, take a piece of freeze-dried food in contempt for the umpteenth time, finally shout "Fuck this," and turn right around and leave. With Seifer Almasy, it was definitely possible. It was almost like taking care of a wild animal that could turn on her at any time. She practically tip-toed around him as if he was a Propagator.

To make things worse, old habits die hard. Seifer Almasy used to be the enemy. He was a war criminal. She didn't want to turn her back on him. At the same time, she didn't want to let him think that she didn't trust him, because the moment he sensed that would be the moment he'd find an excuse to leave.

She had to constantly remind herself that he had nowhere to go to, and even if he did try to leave, she would just convince him otherwise. Again.

Nevertheless, there was nothing she could say to lighten his mood. There was nothing she was willing to risk saying, either, to try to engage him. She figured that he would eventually cool down and start asking questions about the upcoming battles, where SeeD was stationed right now, what was going on with the other nations, and how long they were going to stay in Winhill before moving out.

But he didn't. He didn't ask her one question.

The silence was awkward, and maddening, and uncomfortable, and disconcerting…and she was left only with her endless thoughts. Having Seifer by her side wasn't helping. She hadn't seen him in…

Eight years.

It had been eight years since she last saw him, and now that he was here, she didn't quite know what to do next. She was the Commander of Garden, one of the highest ranking SeeDs on this planet, a seasoned mercenary and Blue Mage, tossed back into warfare and charged to protect humanity against the sorceress…

…and she couldn't stop the nervous fluttering in her chest. Eight years had hardened her mentality, her self-discipline, her poise, and she promised herself never to feel – at least feel in that kind of way – again. You'll be fine, she told herself. There's nothing he can do to you now.

It was a lie, of course. Her resolve shrunk back to practically nothing once he had opened the door and stared at her in angry shock.

Eight years, and now they were shoved into intimate circumstances almost too soon, too fast. They were suddenly eating together, walking together, fighting together, sleeping within very close proximity, and even performing mundane daily routines together, like changing clothes, washing, brushing teeth, and…

Quistis swallowed. "I have to stop."

Seifer halted, sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and turned to glare at her. A shadow of a beard was growing on his hard cheeks. "Again? I thought you just went."

"That was two hours ago. Keep watch."

"Whatever. You've got a bladder the size of a pea, Trepe."

It was probably the longest conversation they'd had in hours.

She trotted off towards a dead tree fifteen to twenty yards away and slipped behind it, letting out an aggravated sigh as she pulled her pants down.

Thank Hyne there was a tree this time. Last time there was nothing as far as the eye could see. She had to make Seifer turn around, but it didn't matter. He could still hear her, and she'd never been so embarrassed in her entire life. He never looked, he never grinned…he didn't even quip a dirty joke. She was thankful for his discretion, but the whole situation was just incredibly uncomfortable and made her feel flat-out vulnerable. When he was her student, no doubt he would laugh and point and the onslaught of endless degrading remarks would ensue. Now…there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Sometimes his silence bothered her…it only served as a painful reminder of how much they were forced to shed their childhood so early on.

Seifer, of course, didn't care. When he had to go, he'd stop, pull his waistline down, and go right there with his back to her. Quistis was almost jealous. For some reason, it was never embarrassing when guys did it.

It wasn't just the bathroom breaks that were uncomfortable. They only had room for a limited amount of clothing, and to keep everything dry, they would have to remove their sweaty clothes at the end of a warm day and lay them flat or hang them on a tree or boulder, if such shelter was available. The practicality was necessary, and they were soldiers, but this was…different. When Quistis turned her back on Seifer to slip out of her armor, SeeD jacket, undershirt and bra to replace them with something to sleep in, she knew he was probably looking. When Seifer did the same, she would unconsciously glance over and then look away just as fast, but not before catching a glimpse at his bare back or chest.

He slept in a pair of military-grade, moisture-wicking boxer briefs that she'd given him, without a shirt on, usually on his back.

Some nights he would lay with his back to her.

She slept in a thin tank top with the same moisture-wicking briefs made for women, on the opposite side of the tiny campfire. On nice, temperate nights without a breeze, it was too hot to stay in a sleeping bag. It was silly, but she felt completely exposed if she wasn't covered up. She was essentially wearing underwear.

She would always lay with her back to him, and most nights she couldn't sleep.

If they came across any freshwater spring or small lake – most of which had dried up – they would use the water to refill their canteens and wash the grime from their bodies. She was too disciplined – or maybe embarrassed – to look over at him, so she could never tell by making eye contact, but she thought that once or twice she felt his eyes on her. Again, Quistis felt ridiculous for feeling so self-conscious – she was a soldier, dammit – but stripping down to her bra and briefs to splash water up her arms and legs right in front of Seifer Almasy brought old, old childish feelings back up from the depths until they were painfully fresh again.

She'd always known that she had returned his feelings long ago, but the feelings were too subtle to recognize. Junctioning a GF muddied the waters – at the time, she couldn't quite understand where the feelings were coming from – and it seemed wrong, on so many levels, to have a crush on one of her students.

Those feelings were further complicated when he acted like a complete asshole in class. She shifted her attention to Squall instead, to focus on something else, but that had obviously made the situation worse, not to mention awkward.

Those feelings were even further complicated when he had been branded a traitor and turned into a war criminal.

Those feelings had bubbled up so many times, but she pushed them back down and simply buried them, ignored them, told them that they were unnatural, that they didn't have a place in her heart anymore.

If they came across a monster, SeeD instinct would kick in and they would automatically know what to do; alternating attacks, healing each other if needed, identifying the enemy's weak spots and communicating to each other about where to attack, what to do next, mode of elimination, et cetera. Sometimes an encounter with a monster would be the only time they really talked to each other. Quistis found Seifer smiling sometimes, taunting his enemy, lifting his gunblade up with one arm as if it was as light as the wooden sword he used to swing, his attacks fluid and sure, his expression set in a determined glare, not even breaking a sweat or breathing hard. Sometimes she caught him watching her as she lifted Save the Queen and swirled it around her body to deliver the final blows, bringing it down with a hard snap; one quick motion, almost less than a second, her arm muscles flexing furiously and then nothing but the whip tearing through flesh or scales or bone. Sometimes he wouldn't watch the monster at all.

Every night they would eat in silence, then the sweaty daytime clothing would be shed and they would lay with their backs to each other, and start the same routine all over again the next day.

The tension was suffocating.

Two weeks and three days.

They stopped and made camp as soon as it started getting darker. There weren't any trees, abandoned farmhouses, or isolated boulders that they could take shelter next to, but there were plenty of large rocks scattered around. Sleeping completely out in the open was a terrible idea, but continuing on foot in the dark to find something suitable was even worse, so they had no choice. Like most nights, they gathered the rocks together and arranged them in a crescent-shape only a few feet high to protect the tiny camp. Seifer had taken his sleeping spot at the exposed end, where the rock circle broke, so Quistis slept inside the circle, with the fire between them.

That night, she lay on her back, wishing the clouds would part so she could see the stars. The night was bleak and dark, as always, and the only illumination they had was from a small campfire they set up earlier in the evening. They dared not cook and ate only freeze-dried military food in order to avoid any prowling monsters sniffing around; the fire was only there to somewhat provide light and warmth to the camp. Quistis let out a deep sigh and stared up into the darkness, thinking about nothing in particular, for what seemed like hours.

Automatically, before she could stop herself, she turned her head to glance at him.

He was on his side, but his back wasn't turned to her. Instead, he was still awake, and he was looking right at her.

She blinked.

They stared at each other for a soft moment. Nothing was really written on either of their faces; just shared weariness, probably pain, thoughts of the past, thoughts of the present, thoughts of what was to come…

Quistis felt like she should say something to him. Anything. She paused. Her lips parted and she took a small breath, but before she could speak, he rolled over to sleep with his back to her.

. . .

She couldn't remember the dream, but there was growling in it. Seifer drifted in and out of it, shouting angry threats at them, lifting his gunblade and taunting them, injured and tired and his grey trench coat in tatters, but she couldn't reach out to help him. The growling came back, followed by a soft hiss, and then a smoky smell.

She was awake in an instant when a hand clamped over her mouth and something heavy pressed down on her.

She almost erupted with a Blue Magic spell, but held back once she realized it was Seifer's weight pressing down on her. She was staring up at his face, inches away from hers, but his brows were pinched down in concern and his eyes locked with hers, his index finger pressed against his lips, and she already knew what he was telling her.

Shhhhhh.

Something was near the camp. Whatever it was, it made another malevolent growling sound, and there was shuffling only a few yards away.

Seifer had put a palm to her mouth to prevent her from making any noise once he woke her up, and he had slid up and pressed his weight upon her because he knew that she would attack him in automatic retaliation otherwise, which would make noise as well.

She nodded at him to indicate that she understood, and he slowly removed his hand from her mouth and lifted himself from her, but only in a half-crouch, half-push up position.

The only thing between them and the monster – or scout – was the pile of rocks.

He hovered over her and slowly pushed himself up a little further so he could glance over the rocks.

Quistis watched him narrow his eyes. He was trying to get a number, or estimate its strength…or both. From where she was, she couldn't move until he did, so she just lay silent and waited for him to assess the situation. She must've fallen asleep on her back. She glanced over at the small fire she'd lit earlier that night, but Seifer must have already put out any orange embers with a handful of sand. A few pieces of wood were still glowing, which was the only reason she could see anything in the pitch-black night, but it was dark enough to keep the thing from noticing them. She felt around for Save the Queen with her right hand – it should be close to her side – and her fingers curled around the handle.

Seifer lowered himself back down, hovering closer, looking thoughtful and angry at the same time. She gave him a questioning look. She was unwilling to whisper, but her expression must've been enough.

Well?

He looked at her, brows furrowed, and shook his head curtly. To Quistis, it could have meant 'no, not a threat,' or 'way too strong to take on,' or even 'just a fuckin' chocobo,' but she assumed that whatever it was, it should be left alone. Better not to draw attention to themselves. It probably wasn't an enemy scout, but it sounded like an ornery monster not worth exposing themselves to in the middle of the night.

Which meant that they had to keep quiet and wait.

Seifer stayed where he was, occasionally checking over the ridge of rocks to monitor its location, but he hadn't shifted his position. Movement meant noise, or a chance of exposure, or both. To keep his weight off of Quistis, he eventually propped himself up on his knees and elbows, but to stay below the ridge, he had to hover close to her.

She had to turn her head so she wasn't staring directly into his face; they would practically be nose-to-nose otherwise.

She was staring at the tiny pile of wood that used to be the fire, but she could feel his breath on her neck. He would look away once in awhile, either tilting an ear towards any sounds or perhaps to just stare at scenery other than her neck or the side of her face, so she would glance up only to meet his neck.

The sternocleidomastoid muscle, she remembered teaching in class. One of the largest muscles in the neck. Disabling this (a.k.a. slashing/cutting/puncturing, etc.) would effectively render the opponent useless, as it essentially connects the clavicle to the skull and plays an integral part in head rotation, as well as somewhat protect the jugular vein.

Seifer's sternocleidomastoid was large and thick as he turned to listen to any additional sounds and avoid his gaze. Quistis wasn't thinking about what she taught in class, however. Instead, she found herself wondering why, exactly, such a muscle was so provocative.

Then she immediately drove those thoughts from her mind when there was another guttural growl on the other side of the rocks. Seifer slowly lifted himself so he could get another glance, then sank back down and let out an aggravated, but controlled, sigh at her neck, and she already knew what he was thinking.

Looks like we're gonna be here awhile.

Minutes ticked by like years, and they wouldn't make eye contact with each other. They were well beyond personal boundaries and had crossed into very intimate territory. The situation, however, was anything but intimate. If things had been uncomfortable before, then this was borderline excruciating now.

Quistis found that her heartbeat had quickened. She took deep, controlled breaths.

Nerves, she told herself. Just adrenaline. Tensing up for a fight, if there is one.

Seifer never once looked at her. Most of the time, when he wasn't checking over the rocks, his head was lowered, almost so they were cheek-to-cheek. She would turn her head away as if it was some sort of feeble attempt to give him space, but she couldn't ignore his breath on her neck. Deep, controlled breaths.  She hoped that, in the dim firelight, he wouldn't notice her goosebumps.

She lost track of how much time had passed. Eventually, after checking one last time, Seifer must've seemed satisfied that the monster wasn't going to head in their direction, because he abruptly moved away from her and went back to his sleeping spot as if nothing ever happened.

Quistis fell into a fitful sleep for probably only a few hours until the dark clouds lightened into a rosy grey, indicating that the sun was rising and it was time to pack up. They ate breakfast in total silence, packed up their gear, and began their trek.

After half a day's worth of silence, Quistis asked, "So, what was so close to our camp last night?"

He continued to walk, nonchalantly replying over his shoulder, "Chimera. Didn't feel like fucking with it."

It was the longest conversation they'd had that day.

Two weeks and four days.