Deling City in October was cool and foggy around sunrise, which made landing tricky. Gwynt, however, was more concerned with getting out of the plane long enough to stretch his legs than he was with fog. Simply shifting his eyes let him see what he needed to well enough, though his approach gave a control tower operator a start.

The trip had been silent, save for the periodic radio check ins and refuelings at Balamb and Dollet. In a way it was lonely - he'd grown very used to Cho's cheerful banter in the copilot's seat - but in another way it was a relief and he felt somewhat guilty for that. The long flight had given him time to himself to think things over, try to put the hectic events of the past two months into some kind of order.

The conclusions he came to were not reassuring. Not at all.

He hadn't been sleeping too well, even when he was sleeping at all. His father's rejection couldn't have come at a worse time, and Gwynt had been left with the uncomfortable feeling of being stranded in mid-ocean on a rapidly melting iceberg. Cho was adamant that she would keep the baby unless it could be proven she couldn't survive the birth, and all the while she was growing to need more and more heat to be comfortable. The inside of their apartment was almost like a sauna, and Cho was shivering over steaming mugs of cocoa and hot tea. The temperatures at home were such that the first thing Gwynt did on coming home was strip down and grab a cold shower. He didn't dare use his power to cool him, either. Cho was so sensitive to cool temperatures that she couldn't handle flying any longer, never mind a good stiff breeze. Grounding her - never mind that it was her choice as much as his - had not improved her temper at all.

It hadn't been hard to talk her out of going with him, though. He hadn't even needed to go into detail about his half-sister's temperament. A simple rundown of probable overseas temperatures had decided her. Gwynt had been more concerned with what Daear might do with a human woman who was very obviously carrying a baby with power. In any other fight, Gwynt would have cheerfully handed Cho a gun to fight at his side, but Daear could neutralize his power. He couldn't fight properly after that. He couldn't fight Daear knowing one stray knife could catch Cho and that would be it. So he'd wanted her to stay home, and she'd stayed home, and he was walking through the closest thing he had to a hometown alone.

It felt different, but he couldn't say if that was due to being older now or if it really had changed. He'd never been allowed out much - that privilege had been given only to Noddy, and then to Daear - and doubted he could even find his house without a map.

He felt in his trench coat pocket for the bundle of belts Nodwydd had sent for Daear. Giving her presents...it just seemed weird. On the other hand, it seemed to be the way things were going to be. Everyone playing nice because out here it was real. He wondered if Daear was going to play nice, too, or if she'd need to get choked by their father as hard as he had. Squall had been willing to kill him, knowing Cho was pregnant. Gwynt didn't doubt he'd kill Daear while she was pregnant - probably in their father's eyes that would count as solving two problems with one strike.

He hadn't been expecting to see her in the street. It was daylight for one thing, and Daear had always been rather a night sort of person. But what really dropped his jaw was seeing Daear pregnant. Very pregnant, in fact, much farther along than Cho who was just starting to show. The reality of seeing his least favorite half sister's sex life just sent shivers down his spine, and his voice reflected his astonishment as he asked, "Daear?"

Daear's head whipped around quickly, her eyes widening and then narrowing as she took in his outfit. He had to admit he probably stood out a bit, the locals apparently favoring shades of steel and mud, but Daear was pregnant. Seeing wasn't believing, seeing was making him want to scrub his eyeballs with cleaner. She spoke quickly. "Go to the restaurant you'll find two blocks down that street," she said urgently, pointing the way. "Wait there, and I will join you shortly."

Gwynt obeyed without really thinking about it, nodding and heading down the indicated street. His brain was still trying to add the words Daear and pregnant based on the unreliable evidence of his own eyes.

And farther along than Cho. He couldn't imagine his sister letting herself get pregnant - the idea of an accidental pregnancy happening to Daear was so unimaginable as to be laughable - unless she knew it was safe. But she wasn't human, was she. It didn't matter - didn't relate to what was happening to Cho because Daear was stronger and had her own power to protect her.

Gwynt entered the restaurant that was where Daear had said it would be, hung his chocobo-feathered hat on a hook, and ordered whiskey. When it arrived he sipped at it and sighed. Galbadian of course, not the single malt Trabian he preferred, but the local paint thinner was better than nothing. It reminded him that he needed to check in with Irvine since he was here - Daear had to be up to something and probably wouldn't tell him what it was, but Irvine might know.

Lost in his own musings of what kind of web he might've flown into - come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly - he barely registered his half sister slipping awkwardly into the seat opposite him. She'd abandoned her usual tough-casual daytime look for something almost businesslike; a flowing sort of gown that didn't hide her growing belly at all but did allow for such freedom of movement as a pregnant woman could make use of. She was staring at him, with that flat gray-eyed stare that reminded him far too much of his recent encounter with their father. He was glad that this time his own eyes were safely hidden behind his aviator's sunglasses - Daear could tell way too much just from the speed of the color whirl when she was trying to annoy. She ordered only water, and he wondered why she bothered. It wasn't as if alcohol did anything to them, and it usually tasted better than anything else available.

"First things first," she said quietly. "My name is Adrienne Thomas. Call me Adrienne only; it's very important."

He nodded; if she chose a pseudonym, it was at least clear she was still trying to stay below SeeD's radar. "Won't Seifer pick up on a false name, though?"

Her lips twitched. "It's not a false name, Gwynt," she stated. "It's my real name. The one on my birth certificate, the one my mother gave me."

Gwynt's jaw dropped. "You know?" he asked, his voice rasping. "You found out?" Breath of Pandemona, if she had what he so badly needed to know then she could murder the whole damn city and he'd let her. He leaned forward expectantly; this was suddenly far too important to take lightly.

Daear's expression remained neutral, not that he'd expected it to change. "Yes," she informed him calmly. "I found out about them all. I have birth certificates, I have photographs..." She pursed her lips, studying him. "There are no inheritances. All of them willed us, along with what remained of their goods, to our foster father."

Gwynt leaned back again, idly swirling his drink in his hand. Damn. "They knew they were gonna die, then," he noted. "Enough in advance to put us in their wills." Which didn't argue much for Cho's survival, but he could take this back and maybe convince her to abort. Every little bit of evidence, every piece of knowledge, helped.

"Yes," Daear agreed, and both of them paused while the waiter returned with a bottle of mineral water and a glass. She filled her glass and sipped at the water. "I have other information too. About our powers, about what Detmer was doing with us."

About our powers. There might be something in there to explain why Cho was getting so cold. He certainly didn't get that cold, so why did Cho? Was it some kind of mutation of the power, or was it normal? He debated asking Daear if she felt any different, but that would probably be giving away too much. If it were any woman but Cho he could care less, but it was Cho and he did care and to his sister that would just mean he'd handed over his leash. Daear would use anyone and anything, up to and including babies, to get what she wanted. He didn't want Cho anywhere near that. But he did still have to know how Daear knew so much. "How'd you find all this stuff out?" he asked at last.

Daear sipped at her water thoughtfully. "Why the sudden interest? I was expecting our more sentimental siblings to have a greater interest in this than you. They're dead, after all."

The word 'dead' shot through Gwynt like a bullet, and he froze. No. He wouldn't let Cho die. Not if there was anything at all he could do about it. He fought to keep himself from vehement denial - it's not going to kill her, I won't let it! - and almost missed Daear's next words. "I would hardly expect you to find sentiment in old medical reports, brother mine. It's not as if any of them kept diaries."

Medical reports. Medical reports of what happened to his mother, to all the mothers. Exactly what he needed to know, exactly what his father had nearly killed him to hide. Gwynt knew his eyes were shifted, the world sharp and clear behind the dark tinted lenses of his sunglasses, but mostly he was fighting down the urge to pound his pregnant half sister into the table until she quit playing stupid games and gave him the information he needed. It seemed to be working - she simply watched him, sipping at her water as if nothing at all untoward were going on. He didn't want to push her until he got those documents. A city was far too big a place to hide them.

Maybe she did have an idea how close he was to kidnaping her, for she lowered her eyes and then said, "You don't have to tell me your reasons, of course. I would, however, like to know what you're doing in Deling City. It's not exactly on the way to anywhere."

A change of subject. Conversational warfare wasn't Gwynt's strong point, but he'd gotten a rapid and exhaustive education dealing with Cho's subtle and way-too-cagey family. She'd seen something, the question was what? He forced himself to relax, and snagged the elbow of a nearby waiter. Bourbon would help. When the server had gone off again, he said, tersely, "Came lookin' for you, actually."

"Any particular reason?" Daear asked mildly, but Gwynt heard it as, Did you come with orders to kill?

He wasn't hunting her to kill her, not this time. It wasn't hard to get that across without saying so. "I got me a plane, an' the papers that let me fly it. Doin' messenger service, an' you're on the list."

"I'm flattered," she said dryly. "Is this verbal news only, or what are you willing to do?"

The waiter returned with Gwynt's bourbon; he took it and leaned forward with his elbows on the table, watching her behind his sunglasses. "It's everything," he said in a low rumble. "Phone numbers, letters, packages, everything. I've already found Noddy - he's got stuff for you in my plane. I can give you his number an' mine here an' now, with the others as I find 'em. I'm to get yours too, to hand to them."

She leaned away from him, frowning slightly. "Do you have somewhere I can write it down?"

Gwynt reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card. On the front the only thing she could read was his first name - the rest was in Esthari characters - and the phone numbers in Esthari and Galbadian numerals in the corner. He didn't bother hiding his first name, only his 'family' name - Esthari knew he was a naturalized citizen, but outside Esthar he preferred to let it be assumed that he'd simply translated the Esthari character for 'wind' into a neighboring language. Fuu just sounded pretty bad all around. He pointed at the higher-placed number. "That's my home phone. You call that an' this city better be burnin'down around your ears. The bottom one's my cell, and a better bet cos I'm usually out flyin' somethin' somewhere. He flipped the card over and wrote another number on the back. "This one's Noddy's house, and the other one's his pager. He din't say anything about times, but he works nights." He held up the card between two fingers. "Now your turn."

Daear smiled slightly, reached into her own bag and produced another card. This she handed to him, saying, "There you are. It's the one I hand reporters."

Gwynt flipped his card at her and took hers. "Reporters?" he said softly. "Damnit, how the hell d'you plan to hide when the media's all camped on your damn doorstep? An' what about that?" he demanded, pointing at her stomach. "The whole damn city know about you? You know Taran'd say cut the losses if you go outta your way to haul Seifer down on you." Reporters. Wonderful. So he didn't just have to watch out for SeeD spies, he had to watch out for the press, too? No wonder Daear had given him that look at seeing his favorite purple trench coat. A thing like that could focus cameras for miles. He wasn't used to the idea of people paying that much attention to what he did on the ground.

"I am well aware of Taran's reasons for doing most things," Daear replied just as quietly. "I assure you - the doctors I have hired are private practitioners associated with no hospital or clinic, kept very well paid on retainer to keep their silence. And do not doubt that I will kill them before they can open their mouths if I find reason to doubt their loyalty." She tucked the card with Gwynt and Nodwydd's numbers into her bag. "As for the press, I started out as a reporter here - I know the media ropes, as it were, and they know nothing about me I do not wish them to know." She smiled tightly. "I am Adrienne Thomas, last scion of the Thomas estate, married to the son of the Mayor. Just another pretty, broke heiress who married her way into power - that's all they know."

"No fuckin' wonder this city is haywire," Gwynt grumbled. "Oughta make you cover my hotel an' fuel expenses." The trip had not been cheap, and with Cho in the condition she was in he'd debated not coming at all. But damnit he'd given his word, and there was no going back from that. But the media never followed broke people. Not in this little sleaze pit, anyway.

"I can, of course," she nodded. "I have things of interest to all of you - I'm assuming you're allowing for immediate acceptance of packages but delayed delivery. How long are you here?"

"A few days," Gwynt shrugged. "Long-ass flight across the sea an' Galbadia to get here. Was gonna stretch my legs a bit before headin' home." There was no way he was telling Daear he was going to hunt down Irvine. Either she knew he was here, in which case saying anything would tip her off to be more careful, or she didn't know and his saying anything would upset Irvine's plans. He cocked his head, changing the subject. "So, this son o' the mayor. He the father?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Does it matter?" she asked. "The child will be a daughter, with a power the way we have power. She won't be human."

Gwynt pursed his lips for a moment, then shrugged. Granted, before meeting Cho he probably wouldn't have been bothered by the remark, but it seemed a bit blind to him now. Not that he'd be able to convince Daear of that even if he were inclined to try. "Whatever. Never would'a figured you t'be the motherly type though."

She frowned. "It is political," she said shortly. "I speed Garrett's ascension to the Mayor's office if I am the stereotypical supportive mother of two. I will have two children and that will be all." She shrugged slightly. "It isn't without its benefits. Two more people like us, Gwynt. Two more who know their worth and their power and that these cattle are just that. Cattle, to be driven or slaughtered or milked as we deem fit."

That sounded like the half sister he knew and loathed. Good grief girl, if you hate 'em so much why don't you just go wild, like Taran? So, tongue firmly in cheek, Gwynt replied, "You're gonna get a herd o' sympathy cards when that girl's born, y'know. All addressed to her - sucky place to have a kid, this."

"If you believed I was pregnant because I developed a sudden unrestrained passion for humans, Gwynt, you need to have your head checked." She rested her hand on her stomach. "She will be like me. That's all that matters. If she were human she would not live to be born."

Gwynt froze again - Pandemona, he was going to have to learn to let this shit slide. She could do what she liked with her own body. It was her getting her hands on Cho's body that made him twitch. With him it was just the other way around - he'd be okay with Cho wanting to keep the baby if he weren't so damn worried it'd kill her. A nice human baby wouldn't be any problem, it was all the freakyshit the poor thing had picked up from him that was the problem.

Daear indicated his huge feathered hat and said, "Come. My 'dear' husband is currently in intensive care, so I can give you a tour of the Palace without having to worry about him making undue connections that might strain him. You'll have to stay in a hotel, of course, but if you like I'll let you put it on an expense account." She smiled. "No strings attached."

A tour of the Palace? What for? They'd played tag in the place as kids in eternity. It wasn't anything but a big expensive house, not half as interesting as a plane. But then, she'd probably want to show him something new. Or just talk away from prying ears - there was a lot he wanted to pry out of her, at knifepoint if necessary. So he shrugged and said, "Sure."

* * *

Daear was mercifully quiet as they left the restaurant. She was very pregnant, and although she was strong and had her power to make it even easier, her body was ungainly and her steps awkward. Gwynt could tell she didn't want to be seen like that - but he also knew she could move a lot better than she was and she wasn't. They were probably being watched again, and he had no idea who by, so he kept his mouth shut. Even when she led him not to the Palace, but to the hospital. The smell of sterilizers, of sickness, of death - the cries and moans and the sheer tension of the place put him very much on edge. If he let himself think of Cho in a place like this he was going to slam Daear up against a wall until she quit playing games and talked, damnit.

So he refused to think about it. He would not send Cho to a hospital. He would not. Especially not with the baby being like him. They might not let her back out again, and while she was there she'd be nothing more than a body on a gurney and the mere idea was unbearable.

Daear led him serenely to a room that was occupied - on the bed was a youngish man with a bruised and unhealthily pale complexion, his chest bandaged and held immobile. The look of pure hatred he leveled at Daear before turning his attention to Gwynt told Gwynt who the man had to be. Only someone who'd gotten really close to Daear knew enough to hate her that much. This was her husband and probably her baby's father - though he guessed that simply because he couldn't picture Daear sleeping around and didn't want to try.

"Are you a doctor?" the man barked at him.

Do Galbadian doctors usually show up in purple trench coats and big feathery hats? Gwynt wanted to ask him, but didn't bother. Just the fact that he'd asked that stupid a question told Gwynt the rest of what he needed to know. Daear had found an idiot and was controlling him. Well, Gwynt wanted no part of it. The man could go to heaven or hell in his own way - probably hell, really, since he'd been dumb enough to sleep with Daear. So - using the formal Esthari Laguna'd taught him and Cho perfected, rather than the everyday version he usually spoke, he said, "Iie," that was 'no'.

Garrett looked from Gwynt to Daear. "If he's Esthari I'll buy you a house," he snapped. Turning to Gwynt again, he said, "What are you doing here?"

Gwynt could tell Daear was enjoying this immensely, but Gwynt himself had no humor to spare for the morons of the world. Keeping to formal Esthari, he told the man he'd flown into the city with packages for Adrienne. And produced the cargo listings and his own flight license and ratings notations - all in Esthari characters, though the cargo manifest was translated into Galbadian as well - for inspection. This trick was an old one, and one he'd learned from other cargo pilots at the Airstation - nobody expected carriers to speak another language, and while he had answered the man's questions and therefore could be assumed to understand Galbadian, it made him look more the foreigner if he didn't speak it. It got you cut a lot more slack because foreigners couldn't possibly be expected to understand local ways, and if you learned the language anyway you knew more than they thought you did.

Daear, you just laugh it up. I'm probably not five miles from where we were kids together, and I'm playing foreigner as far as I'm going to. You'd better make this worth my time.

The man turned his head to Daear, dislike sparking in his eyes. "All right, Adrienne. Why bring him here?"

"You know how the press adores me, darling," Daear replied drolly. "And Fuu here is hardly unremarkable." Gwynt's name in Esthari characters became 'Fuu', which was one reason he'd printed his first name in Galbadian letters on his cards. "I didn't want you reading in all the papers that I had taken a lover, so I brought him here. As you see, just a delivery boy - although a rather loud one." She let her eyes shift. "You will tell the media so, when they ask. He had deliveries for me, and because I was out of the Palace he went looking for me - after all, Esthari do take their duties so very seriously."

Gwynt's eyebrows raised at this - he knew she was right, but it felt strange to be categorized that way. To him it was just the way he lived. He'd probably feel differently if his duty didn't consist of flying everywhere. He looked at the bandaged man on the bed as he nodded once, slowly. "You're going to owe me for this," he said, and Gwynt managed to keep his face even. Anyone who said something like that to Daear ended up regretting it. If they got time to regret it.

"No, I am not," Daear replied evenly. "Because it is very much as it seems to be. It is to your advantage to make sure that it stays that way - for if I should become unfaithful to you, Garrett, it will not be a hospital bed that you find yourself in. It will be a coffin. Are we quite clear?"

"As crystal," Garrett snapped. "Get out of here before I decide to have a relapse and have you removed."

Daear led Gwynt out, and he held his peace until they were outside. The whole thing made him seethe. The guy wasn't bright, but he didn't seem to be taking being a pet too well, either. This was seriously going to fuck up Daear's kid, and to be honest Gwynt didn't think he could handle dealing with another bitch of Daear's caliber. "Daear, you've sunk to new lows of fucked-upness, an' personally I'm surprised you found a way to do it. If you hate the guy so much why're you keepin' him alive an' lettin' him fuck you?"

"I told you," she snapped, walking sedately toward the Palace. "I needed him to ascend to the rulership of the city. When I have two children, and they are weaned, he's a dead man. A very, very, dead man."

The wide violet brim of Gwynt's hat dipped down to hide most of his face as he watched the pavement while they walked. She'd said as much before, but so plainly? He'd thought she had too much pride for this sort of shit, and it felt weird to know he'd been wrong. "You've changed," he said after a while. "I wouldn't've bet anything you'd whore for power. Kill, sure - backstab, front stab, fight, sure. But not whore."

Daear looked abruptly furious, whirling on him with shifted eyes. "You've hardly got room to talk - you've slept around enough to get a human pregnant, and you know she's going to die and I'll bet you haven't told her. At least I will survive my pregnancy!"

That's it. Rage tore through him - denial, she's not going to die! Gwynt's hand clenched into a fist and he stopped stock still in the street as a wind blew up out of nowhere, a strong gust that picked up quickly. "You got no idea what you're talking about, bitch," he snapped. "And if you say one more word about it by Pandemona's purple tail I'll rip your lungs out an' feed 'em to you!" Go on. One more word and I'll toss you into a cloudbank until you feel like telling me what I need to know and then you're kissing seawater from ten thousand feet.

"No more idea have you," she retorted, evidently trying to get herself under control. "You're making judgement calls about a situation you have no comprehension of. This is not Esthar. This is not the Deling City you thought you lived in as a child, and it is not the Deling City Father taught you about. It is my city, in every sense of the word, and if I choose you can be banned from it without even a half hour's work on my part. The way I have taken power allows me to see and be seen without the city at large knowing who truly decides policy here. Even my daughter is part of this game, brother, and if you continue to visit here you will become a piece on the playing board for me to move. If you don't like it, I'd advise you to stay away."

"You'd use your daughter - oh, hell, o'course you would," Gwynt growled. He had to admit - at the moment he had no real concern for any of the unborn babies around him. One looked like it might kill Cho, and in his book that made just about anything legal, and Daear's kid was Daear's. It was like refusing to kill the kid of a psychopath - you could argue it was mercy, but it was more probably just waiting until later for your chaos. "You'd use Dad and Grandpa too, wouldn't you, if they weren't already outta the picture." He paused. "You gonna kill her?" he asked. "This daughter you're havin' for politics. You gonna kill her when her part's done?"

"Every queen needs an heir," Daear replied as the breeze died down. "I may be immortal, I may not. But one does not play the games of power assuming immortality. She has nothing to fear from me. I will make this city safe for our kind, Gwynt. Your wife may die, but your child will be safe enough here."

Gwynt stood stock still, his face as hard as stone for a long moment. Of course if she knew he had a pregnant girl, she could work out that his lapis ring was a wedding ring. He was outmatched - he couldn't hide as much as he needed to, to keep Cho safe, and was just getting her into trouble. "I ain't gonna ask how you guessed," he said slowly. "And I for damn sure ain't bringin' any child o' mine to stay here. Visit maybe, but not stay." He shook his head slowly, deciding that since she already knew the worst of it he might as well be plain. "Damnit...I need what you know. Cut the games...Adrienne. I ain't got the patience for it."

Daear nodded tightly. "Agreed. I have the things you will need in the palace." She paused. "You said you had packages for me."

"Just the one, really," Gwynt shrugged. "I ain't bein' the Gift Fairy m'self, I'm just delivering the stuff other people come up with. I only found Noddy so far, so..." He reached into the pockets of his trench coat and came out with a small bundle. "He din't know you was pregnant, o'course. Hell, if he didn't know I can't lie any more'n you can, I doubt he'd believe that when I tell him."

"If you want this meeting to remain peaceful, Gwynt, you will hold your tongue," said Daear mildly as she took the bundle. Inside was the small selection of black leather belts that Nodwydd had bought for her in Balamb. Tucking them belts away, she reluctantly said, "Tell him I said thank you."

Gwynt's lips twitched, biting down a a smirk - she despised and feared Nodwydd - but he nodded and the rest of the walk to the palace was made in silence. From her a 'thank you' was being very gracious indeed. She was trying to be nice, just as he was. He wondered if she was having an easier or harder time fighting down the urge to go for the throat. They weren't - yet - true enemies, but something inside always wanted to fight.

Inside the Mayor's residence, Daear led him down the corridors to one of the offices and unlocked the door. "I will get someone to cart the boxes to your plane for you," she said quietly. "They are not heavy, not by our standards, but you stand out enough already. Carrying this many boxes to your plane, after being seen in my presence, will not be good for either of us."

"Gotcha," said Gwynt, accepting that she probably knew more about the local spies than he did. Another advantage to being a pilot - he wasn't home enough for this sort of bullshit to be effective. His jaw dropped slightly as he saw what she meant. Four midsized boxes, already sealed and labeled with imprints of Guardian Forces, were stored in the office. "What the hell?" This was bigger than just files would be...

"I am not in the habit of giving gifts," Daear said simply. "These may be the only ones any of you ever receive from me - I do not, as a rule, go shopping for other people. But these things I found while doing that which pleased me, and I knew you all would want them, so it was only a matter of sorting them out and boxing them up." She lifted two of the boxes and set them on the office's desk, carefully in case she overbalanced but not apparently making much effort. She pointed at the third. "That one is yours. It is typical of the others in terms of contents, if you mistrust me."

Gwynt wasn't worrying about bombs. She wouldn't be standing next to them and moving them if they could hurt her. He just wanted to know what was in there. Reaching into a pocket he produced a utility knife, and quickly cut the tape on his own box. Inside were a collection of folders - the files, at last the files, oh baby you are getting the best care all the way home - and something he'd honestly never expected to see again in his life. His old stuffed Pandemona doll, the one toy he'd been allowed to call his own and didn't have to share with anybody. His jaw dropped slightly as he picked the doll up. "You found our toys?" he asked, trying not to give in to an old old habit and tuck the thing into the crook of his arm. "What was you lookin' for when you found our toys?"

"Anything our foster father might have left behind," Daear shrugged. "I found our toychest in the Room... apparently no one wanted to walk through that hallway, or if they did they didn't feel like taking toys. The house was gutted and thoroughly looted."

That, he could believe. The Room...gods he'd managed to avoid thinking about that for a good long while, that one too-small room with all of them packed in it and the door locked and Detmer telling them Noddy wasn't coming back and they'd better get used to it, and Cariad bawling fit for a spring thunderstorm and Daear being bitchy and then Noddy unlocking the door and the hall covered in blood and gore and a blond tattooed man with a frightening grin...

It was all locked right here, in the little purple-yellow-red Pandemona doll he'd been too scared stiff to miss until they'd been dropped in a deserted wing of Balamb Garden and he'd realized Purp was still back there with all the blood and he could not get Squall to understand why they had to go back, he couldn't go to bed without Purp any more than Noddy could go to bed without Needles...

He remembered that Squall had played tag with them to exhaust them instead. He'd had the idea at the time that their new father didn't really know how to play but it had still been so much more than he was used to. He set Purple Demon back in the box slowly. Well, better late than never. And if Cho was by some Hyne given miracle right and she could have their baby and be okay, then maybe Purp could have someone else to look after. "I'll take 'em back with me an' deliver 'em as and when I get the chance to," he said flatly, folding the flaps of the box closed again, and looked down at the boxes. "Some of 'em ain't gonna wanna know, you know."

Daear nodded but didn't reply. She picked up the phone from the desk and dialed a number. "Adrienne here. Send a porter with a dolly to the southwest wing. I have boxes that must be taken to a waiting aircraft." She hung up the phone without waiting for a reply.

Gwynt shoved his hands into his trench coat pockets, still looking at the boxes, and Purple Demon tucked away inside with the folders that might keep Cho safe, and all the old memories. "Why did he want us, Daear?" he asked quietly. "Ain't no one around, here. Why did he want us?"

Daear blinked. "Who? Our father? Or Detmer?"

Gwynt shrugged slightly, frowning. "Either, really. Was expecting you to know at least why Detmer bothered. Wasn't any money in it for him - you said the mothers were all broke." It would be nice to believe somebody who'd had charge of him had thought him worth caring about. It didn't seem likely, but it was possible.

"I saw nothing that denied what we were told by our father and Zell," Daear shrugged dismissively. "Detmer wished us to be his soldiers, his assassins, so that he could ascend to power here." She indicated the office in which they stood. "He got his wish - just not the way he wanted it."

Gwynt sighed. So much for that theory. And Taran was hiding in the desert and Cho was shivering in an oven-hot flat, carrying a baby that might kill her. He was starting to remember why Purp had been so important to him. Purple Demon had never not cared, never left..."Yeah...guessed that." He shook his head. There really wasn't a lot to lose, looked at that way. He didn't want to be a father. He just wanted Cho, and if he couldn't have that then the rest of the world could just take a flying leap. "You know what's floorin' me, here? You, that's what. I din't have to tell you about my wife, you worked that out. Dad didn't know till I told him. And you, of all people, actually had somethin' helpful to offer me. You know what Dad did when I asked for help? Fuckin' tried to kill me."

Daear's expression was neutral and unsurprised. "It doesn't surprise me," she noted calmly. "You know how prickly Father can get when you ask him for anything."

"She could die," Gwynt said softly, no longer really caring about what Daear might do with that information. If Cho died nothing mattered, and if she didn't then he wouldn't let Daear hurt her. That simple. He just needed to run this past someone who knew everyone involved, because it all sounded wrong. Squall should've helped. "Dad didn't care." His lip curled as a bit of common sense reasserted itself. "And I know you don't either, so don't pretend. But this stuff...might help. If it does..." he shrugged again, raising his head to look her in the eye - not that she could tell, with his sunglasses on. "Dad can't call me any more," he said flatly, aware that he was basically allying himself with her. But if Daear could save Cho, then he would ally with her. And without his help the others wouldn't want to fight her. "You can piss Dad off until he's callin' monsters down from the Moon on your ass, I won't raise a finger." He raised a hand before Daear could say anything. "Just don't piss off Taran. Or Irvine. If they call, I'll come. You got me?"

"Of course," Daear said smoothly. "The porter is here. Show him to your aircraft and he'll load the boxes onto it." She paused, then reached into her handbag and produced a card. "Use this card to charge your hotel room and room service when you stay in Deling," she said. "I can't offer you rooms here in the Palace, not without more risk than I like. But you can stay at whatever hotel pleases you."

Gwynt took the card thoughtfully, aware that he was in effect declaring at least a truce, if not an alliance. "Fuel costs more than rooms," he said, just to let her know he wasn't quite bought yet. "But thanks anyway. It'll help."

The porter came in and immediately started loading boxes onto the dolly, and a few minutes later Gwynt left with him. He didn't want to look back, and didn't want to think about what this might cost him. He still needed to find Irvine, but right now he wanted to get his own box to a nice quiet hotel room and give it a thorough going-over.

And Cho. If he was going to be bought then he damn well wanted to remind himself that the price was worth it.

* * * * * *

Once the Shooting Star was properly loaded, Gwynt hefted his own box and chose a hotel based on the glitz of its exterior. He plunked the card Daear had given him down to pay for it, took his room key and headed for the elevators. Inside, he was if anything the raven among the peacocks - what had been flamboyant outside was apparently rather normal within the casinos and clubs.

The room was a single, but the bed was wide. The discrepancy was explained by the small stack of cards near the phone, each with a mostly undressed, attractive person on the front and a rate and phone number on the back. He flipped through the cards, curious, then shrugged and pocketed them. Cho might like looking at the pretty boys, and he could make a game of collecting the girls. It would at least be something to do on layovers.

First things first. He pulled the files out of the box and started riffling through them.

The first folder was apparently identity papers. He grimaced when he caught sight of his birth name - Frasier Allens. Shit. I do better with 'Gwynt'. But Daear had been remarkably thorough - in the folder was his birth certificate and his true birthday, much to his personal surprise. March 23? Detmer said everybody was born in May...shit no wonder I'm short if I was that early. But why that early? Conceived earlier, or just premature, or what? It took some searching through the folders, but eventually Gwynt pieced it together.

He should not have been born that early in the year - Detmer was right, he should have been born somewhere near mid-May. The medical records of his birth mother, whose name had apparently been Torwena, said so. But Torwena had been dying of the power of Carbuncle - there was even a sample in the files, taped to a sheet and stapled. It was a translucent green crystalline material, very hard but shatterable in the way of crystals. Gwynt touched it and ended up sucking on a pricked finger - it was very sharp. Torwena had been unable to control the formation of the shielding crystals and they'd eventually proven unable to keep her breathing - Gwynt's birth was dryly noted by the physicians as the first cesarian ever done with a hacksaw.

Gwynt frowned at the papers. So she didn't die because of me. She died because of this other stuff that would've killed me too. Damn! Where does that leave Cho?

He couldn't check all the others' boxes without breaking the seals, and he didn't want to do that. For one thing, if he looked in theirs they might want to look in his, and he didn't think he wanted the others to see this. Aside from his mother bearing a rather strong resemblance to a pit bull, there was his birth name to consider. Gwynt wasn't going to lay bets even Cho could call him 'Frasier' without laughing. Besides, he could always ask them when they opened their own boxes. He was, after all, delivering them.

He didn't feel any connection to his birth mother. He knew she was because the paper trail Daear had provided was unbroken and very clear on the matter, and he could see an echo of himself in her. But she was dead, literally before he was born, and now he'd have no answers. And too much made no sense. Squall had had none of the powers of the Pride, and his mother had had Carbuncle. Why, then, did he have the power of Pandemona? Why did carrying his unborn child make Cho cold? There was nothing in any of the papers that shed light on it. Finally, he gave up and called Irvine.

"Kinneas here."

"Irvine? It's Gwynt. I'm in town at the moment, wanted to say hi. Any place I can do that?"

There was a pause that Gwynt was fairly sure was Irvine covering up the mouthpiece with his hand. Then, "How private do you need it?"

Gwynt checked the stationery. "Tell you what, you can come to my room. Galbadia Hotel, number 617. I'll order in."

Irvine chuckled. "Land in money did you? Sure, I'll be there. Give me fifteen."

"Gotcha. Later," said Gwynt, and hung up. Well. Guess I better hide the stuff I don't want him to see. That meant the pictures of his mother, the birth certificate, adoption papers...that about covered it. Nothing of his name or visual record of his mother. Keep it nice and impersonal. Once those were safely stashed in his travel bag, he took a look around and nearly swore when he realized he'd forgotten to hide Purple Demon. Quickly he snagged the stuffed toy and shoved it under the bed. The last thing he needed was for Irvine to see that.He'd just gotten it stowed when the knock came at the door.

And blinked when he answered it. Irvine was in his usual coat and hat - it was October, after all - but there were dark circles under his eyes and he looked like he'd just been through hell. He took his hat off, plunked it on Gwynt's curls, and drawled, "Oh, hot damn, a bed. You can have it back when I'm done with it." Whereupon the entire six-foot-plus frame proceeded to land like falling timber on the mattress. "Mmmmmmm...."

This was not what Gwynt had been expecting. And there was only the one bed and there was not going to be sharing going on. On the other hand, telling Irvine anything sounded rather like ordering the stereotypical five hundred pound gorilla, and he didn't need more SeeD enemies just now. Besides - he liked Irvine. The idea of fighting him, ever, was just...really damn depressing. "Uh...I can crash on the floor, no problem...but why're you so tired?"

Irvine's answer came from the muffled depths of the pillow. "Remus. New babies don't sleep through the night."

Gwynt frowned. Remus was a human baby, after all. Didn't that mean it was supposed to be easier than what Cho would have to go through? But Irvine looked really tired. "Selphie's gonna wanna kill me for askin' you up here, ain't she," he said.

Irvine rolled onto his back with a grunt, though his eyes stayed closed. Gwynt was noting with no small disquiet that Irvine looked a lot older in person than he did in Dreams, and he looked older than when he'd turned them all loose in the valley a few years ago too. There was noticeable gray in Irvine's auburn hair now, and lines around the eyes and mouth. He didn't want to think of Irvine as old - it didn't sit well at all. "Not really," Irvine said, disrupting Gwynt's thoughts. "We're only two floors down. I needed the time to get dressed."

"You put your hat and coat on to take the stairs?" Gwynt gawked. "What the hell for?"

"Because you expected it," Irvine drawled with a faint grin. "But don't swear around Sefie or she'll have your hide." He yawned. "Now what did you want me for? This bed is damn soft and there's no baby crying, and it's makin' me sleepy."

Gwynt couldn't help but grin. "Now who's swearin?" he teased. "What's Daear up to, Irvine? I know she's up to somethin, I just don't know what."

Irvine seemed to get taller the longer he was on the mattress, arms and legs just stretching and stretching. "Besides trying to become Mayor of Deling, you mean? She's got some sort of hold on Garrett. Not sure what yet."

Gwynt dropped a file on Irvine's chest. "You know anythin' about this?" he asked.

"Gwynt, right now I don't want to see anything but the insides of my eyelids," Irvine sighed, but forced himself up on his elbows with a grunt. From there it was like watching a building being erected until Irvine was sitting upright. Fighting off yawns he opened the file, and soon was visibly more alert. "Holy shit. Gwynt, where did you get this?"

"Daear. She found all of it - all our mothers, how they died, what they were like. She found all of it."

Irvine ran a hand through bangs that never seemed to get into the ponytail, wide eyed. "Shit. Shit, shit shit and don't tell Sefie I said that." He got to his feet and grabbed his hat off Gwynt's head. "You have more? I want Sefie to take a look at this, she's the chemistry whiz."

"That's all the medical stuff," Gwynt said, worried. "Irvine, is this gonna kill Cho?"

Irvine was already headed for the door. "Come on, Gwynt. Selphie'd be better to ask that than me, she worked on curing Squall of this stuff. How the hell did Daear get her hands on it?"

"Don't ask me, she wouldn't say!" Gwynt cried as he leaped to follow. Whatever these two could tell him, he really wanted to know.

* * *

Selphie, too, looked much older than Gwynt wanted to think about. In Dreams she always looked seventeen, bright and perky with her yellow sun dress. Reality was crueller - still fit at forty odd, her hair was as streaked with gray as Irvine's, and she had the odd emphasized shape of a new mother. She was nursing a little baby at her breast, but seemed more than capable of doing several things one-handed. "Gwynt!" she said, visibly tired but evidently pleased. "I thought Irvy was going to see you, not the other way round! Here, have a seat, there's juices in the fridge but don't touch the milk." She grinned and indicated the baby. "I'm glad he brought you by. This little angel is Remus. Isn't he cute?"

Gwynt was very much at a loss. Taking a close look at the baby would at this point also be taking a close look at Selphie's breast, which felt wrong for all sorts of reasons, and he couldn't think of anything complimentary to say about Remus either - though he was aware if he didn't think fast then Selphie would be insulted. Remus just looked like a baby to Gwynt - small, round, and not all that interesting. "Um...I guess so?"

Irvine pulled his hat over his eyes with a quietly cheerful "Wrong answer," just as Selphie used her free hand to give a not-quite-playful tug on Gwynt's curls.

"You guess so?" she echoed. "Well, that just proves you six aren't as perfect as you like to think you are, if you can't even tell a gorgeous looking baby when one's staring you in the face."

Gwynt took the only out he had. "Selphie, the baby ain't starin' me in the face, and I ain't starin' your chest in the face either." He was almost pleading - what on earth was he supposed to do, ask for a full frontal view of Selphie's bare chest? She was the closest thing he had to an aunt for Hyne's sake.

Selphie looked down at her own half-bare chest and blinked. And then laughed, which caused Gwynt's blush to deepen. "I would've thought you'd want the practice, Gwynt," she teased with a sudden grin. "After all, Irvy's told me you're going to be a father soon yourself."

Gwynt twitched. "Ah...yeah," he agreed. "That's why I need to talk to you guys. I need to know if this is gonna kill Cho - cos if it is, then I can skip bein' a father."

"I...suppose that makes sense," Selphie said slowly. "You're both much younger than we are...but what makes you think Cho will die? Women have had babies for as long as there've been people, and as long as you don't take silly risks you're fine these days."

"Sef, he's not having the normal run of the mill type of problems, remember?" Irvine interjected. "I told you about those."

"Oh!" Selphie blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry, yes I did forget." She grinned down at her son. "I've sort of had a lot on my mind lately." She adjusted her hold on her baby with a thoughtful expression. "I don't...think Cho is in any trouble," she said slowly. "You were born with your power, after all, and it sounds like your baby will be the same way."

"Yeah but Cho isn't like me," said Gwynt, trying not to sound desperate. "She's not too far along but we hafta keep the apartment like an oven so she doesn't freeze, and she can't handle wind chill so she can't go flying...I mean she's almost a prisoner right now to this kid, an' I don't want that for her. 'Specially not if it kills her!"

"Calm down," Selphie said, suddenly authoritative. "I don't want you disturbing Remus, not when we've almost got him to do his sleeping at night now."

Gwynt just looked at Irvine. This wasn't his territory, and even though Cho was pregnant it still wasn't sinking in that it might become his territory, and he had no idea how to navigate said territory with Selphie in any case. Irvine just passed Selphie the files. "Sef, you remember the work you did with Squall at all? D'you make anything of this?"

"Hang on, that needs two hands so I'll put Remus to bed first," Selphie replied quickly, and got up to do just that. Gwynt just stared at his hands. He was having the very uncomfortable feeling that his future was staring at him, and he didn't like the look on its face at all. Selphie seemed to return fairly quickly, though he wasn't keeping track of time, and she slid easily into her chair to flip through pages. It didn't take her long to frown. "I know it's been a while, but I don't think this is all there is," she said. "Some of the notations are missing steps."

"You leave anything out of this?" Irvine asked Gwynt pointedly.

Faced with the direct question, Gwynt had to answer carefully. "I took out personal stuff," he admitted. "Just the stuff about my...birth mother? - and her life. I left all the medical stuff alone, honest. What you've got is all she gave me."

Selphie clucked her tongue, not looking up from the sheets. "Someone was good, very good," she said. "Good enough to know what they couldn't get. Remember the trouble we had with Squall and the stuff?" she asked Irvine. "The way it bonded? Whoever put this together had the same problem - needed the pure form to know what to create to get the right effect. Only they had you guys," and here she nodded at Gwynt - "and you six are stable. Your power won't kill you."

"I ain't worried about me," snapped Gwynt. "I'm worried about Cho".

"Keep your hair on!" teased Selphie with a grin. "What I was getting at is you haven't got a complete set here. Your mother's notes are complete - and Irvy, I was right; the stuff does change you after the point of no return. If we ever need a raise out of the Commander we've now got proof we saved his life." She tapped the pages. "I don't know how much grounding you've got in biochemistry, Gwynt, but basically your mother was lucky to die of asphyxiation. In another few days or so she'd have died of having her blood turn into shards of crystal shielding - the outer shield that was trapping her was starting to close in, and eventually it would've formed inside her body rather than outside it. No way to save her." Her expression hardened for a moment. "Not that anyone would've wanted to."

Gwynt blinked. "Um." He had the idea he ought to protest - the lady had been his mother, after all, and it wasn't as if anyone else would leap forward to defend her, or as if Squall were some paragon of virtue either. On the other hand, Selphie rarely condemned and when she did it tended to be an 'agree with me or else' kind of thing. He needed her help too much to try arguing on such shaky ground. "So...in real words, what's it mean for Cho?"

Selphie looked regretful. "I'm sorry, Gwynt, but if I were her I don't think I'd see any of this as being important. She's not in the same circumstances as your mother was - nobody's shot her full of anything, at least as far as I know, and that's what killed your birth mother."

"But...this says my mother had Carbuncle, and Dad didn't have anything, so why do I have Pandemona and why is Cho freezin' all the time?" Gwynt demanded. "Where's the thing that makes this make sense, Selphie?"

"Not exactly true," Irvine said slowly, sharing a look with Selphie. "Squall had everything, Gwynt. Not for long, but for long enough."

Selphie nodded, equally slowly. "It's...well, a lot of it's not ours to tell, you know," she said almost apologetically. "But Squall won't tell you any of it and you do need to know some just to know what to expect. All of you were conceived about the same time - it's best if you think of it as a lab experiment some people tried while Squall was a prisoner; he didn't want anything to do with it but didn't have a lot of choice."

"Squall had the powers of sixteen different GFs in his system when we got him back," Irvine interjected. "Pandemona was one of them - as were Cactuar, Quezacotl, Brothers and Diablos. We always assumed you six got your powers based on what your mothers had and what Squall had at the time. Now, it's harder to say - but it sounds like Squall was the deciding factor in what power you actually got."

"Too much stuff," Selphie nodded. "Whatever he had in him at the time was probably in a lot higher concentration than whatever the mothers had. If they had anything at all - remember it looked like Squall was the lab rat, they were using him to test concentrations." She flipped through the pages. "There's nothing here that says when your mother was given the Carbuncle power, Gwynt. She could have been given it well after you were conceived, which would account for the fact that she lived longer than Squall would have - and why you don't have the same power she did. As for Cho, I think what's happened is you're a bit like Squall was at the time - one power dominant, all the others dormant. Some power besides Pandemona is in her baby - by the sound, either a fire or water related power." She looked uncomfortable. "Squall had Leviathan and it was making him colder - but he had the unstable version, that killed. I don't think I can really say whether it's fire or water your baby will have - but since it's the baby and not Cho that has it, I think Cho will be okay. Just not very happy in the meantime."

"Dad was gonna die?" Gwynt blinked. This was news. He wasn't sure what kind of news - good or bad - but it wasn't something he'd known before.

Irvine nodded. "Anyone who was given the power died, Gwynt. Except for Seifer and his posse, and that's because Sefie here worked out a counter agent that reversed the process if it was caught early enough. Your mother, and the others' mothers, were hunted fugitives at the time and wouldn't have come forward even if they'd known to do so, because we were killing anyone who'd been injected with the serums that granted power. There were a lot of people around Centra at the time who fit the bill, too. Wasn't too hard for the women to slip the net, especially since it looks like they got pregnant and then headed right back here to Deling - they didn't stay to fight. Squall would've died just like they did, but he joined with Rinoa into Griever instead."

Irvine was looking pained now, speaking low and quietly but steadily. Gwynt finally realized why. "Dad don't want you talkin' about this, does he," he said flatly. "He's mad at you, cos of me."

Irvine nodded, eyes half-lidded. "Let's just say he and I've got a few disagreements on what you six need to know, and leave it at that, okay?"

Gwynt frowned, but said nothing. He wanted to argue on Irvine's behalf, but the memory of his father's fingers around his throat was still fresh in his mind. There was no way to convince his father of anything, and trying might get Irvine hurt. Irvine had to deal with Squall every day, after all. Gwynt could get away with never dealing with Squall again as long as he lived...a thought occurred to him. "Irvine?" he asked. "Have you ever gone to the isles of heaven and hell? They're off limits to aircraft without class three armaments...but have you been there in dreams?"

Irvine blinked at the change of subject. "I've been all over both of them when awake, with high level training teams getting gear for weapons upgrades," he said. "They're off limits because the monsters will make hash of just about anyone going in, there's no secret stuff going on on them." He paused. "Asleep? I don't think I've ever been there in dreams. Not exactly the kind of places you want to visit on a pleasure trip." He frowned. "Griever wants to know why you're asking."

Gwynt very nearly said Griever could go kiss a moomba, but he really didn't want Irvine getting in trouble on his behalf. "Just wondering why they were called that."

"Well, the Island closest to Hell I've always thought was really well named," said Selphie tartly. "The monsters there are no joke, no matter how tough you think you are." She grinned. "Quistis will send the bad boys out there when they're so full of themselves they're not much good in a group. By the time they get back - if they get back - they're nice and humble and more than willing to work in teams."

Irvine pursed his lips. "Gwynt, I think I know why you're curious. The islands themselves aren't what you're looking for, though. I think the islands don't change from waking to dreaming, but what they are are ... power centers, I guess you could say. They're like beacons, sending out signals. It's where the signals meet that you'll find what you're looking for." He sighed, eyes closed. "It's a good idea. I don't think you and Squall are ever going to get along, and otherwise you're letting yourself in for trouble."

Gwynt nodded, though he knew Irvine wouldn't see. Heaven, and hell. And between them was life - a place where the souls in eternity could come back, take on new lives. That would be the place to go, if it all fell down. He would have to remember to tell Cho.

Irvine was apparently doing thinking of his own. "Daear's not telling you everything she knows," he said slowly. "And don't worry, I won't ask you to try to pry more out of her. She won't bite, I'm sure. What's missing, Sefie?"

Selphie had been studying the papers for several minutes. "This is only the research that was done on Gwynt, specifically," she said. "There has to be more for the other five of you, I think. Also, there's holes - I think some use of the data was omitted, some effect. There's references to injections here, but I thought you guys said he never injected you with anything?"

Gwynt nodded. "He never tried to stick anything in us," he agreed. "He'd take blood samples from all of us sometimes, and that was it. Not too often, either."

"Then there's definitely something being left out," said Selphie. "Because there's references to injections and they weren't given to you." She shook her head. "It's pretty complete, the editing anyway. Other than that it's hard to pinpoint any holes - call it a hunch. I don't think Daear would ever tell everything she knew, just because that's not how she thinks."

"Point," said Irvine.

"And Cho?" asked Gwynt.

"You do have a one track mind," Selphie teased, and smiled to take away the sting. "Look - based on what's here, I'd say Cho will probably - probably be fine. I know that's not what you wanted to hear, but if you're careful and you keep an eye on her, really everything should be fine." She paused, and looked at Irvine. "You really need to not worry her. She's probably afraid enough, I mean what with everything you've already told me and it being her first baby and everything." She smiled slightly. "I'm a career SeeD, and I thought it'd take a lot to frighten me, but I got panic attacks just like everybody else. You're going to have to be her rock, until the baby's born. She needs to know she can count on you."

Gwynt looked stunned. Cho didn't need him for that. Cho didn't need him for anything - he'd only ever gotten her into trouble, one way or another, and all in all she did much better on her own. The idea of him being her 'rock' was laughable, ludicrous. Of course he would help however he could - he had gotten her into this mess, after all - but that was entirely different from saying she needed his help.

Irvine stood up. "I think I'll take Gwynt here out for a stroll," he said to Selphie. "He looks like he needs air."

Was there some sort of husband-wife code going on here? But Irvine led him out and Selphie let him do so without comment, and when they were outside looking at the night stars Gwynt said, "I can't be anybody's rock, Irvine. I don't know how."

"Well, the fact that I haven't had one conversation with you yet today that didn't revolve in some way around Cho or your upcoming baby is probably a good start," remarked Irvine amiably. "I got you out of there before Sefie launched into one of her Remus monologues. I love the boy too, but I'll wait to talk about him until he's doing something other people besides me will think is neat." He grinned. "You're gonna be the terror of your workplace when your baby's born."

"Not if I'm a widower," snapped Gwynt. "Pandemona, Irvine - this baby makes her miserable, every day, all day, and it's my fault the kid's different. It's my fault if it kills her. I don't care about bein' a father, we weren't tryin' for it like you and Selphie were. I just want Cho, an' that's all." He looked up at the sky. "It sounds whiny and stupid, Irvine, an' I know it does, but all I've learned over the past few months is that Cho's the only person ever to like me for me. Not for a power I have, or a person I'm related to, or because she thinks she has to. Just...me. An' now it looks like it'll kill her an' there's nothin' I can do about it."

Irvine nodded. "You're right. It does sound whiny. You've still got me and Sefie, and your brothers and sisters aside from Daear." He shrugged. "All right, at first it was just because you're one of Squall's and I've always felt kind of sorry for you six because of it. But these days, the more I learn the better I like you guys. For the most part you've all turned out really, really well and Squall oughta be mighty proud of you." He sighed. "He's not, of course, but that's just Squall. I had to learn to deal with it, and so will you guys. You've never been unloved. You've got a family you fall back on even if you don't know you're doing it."

Gwynt's lips twitched briefly into the ghost of a smile. "You've had that speech waiting for a while, haven't you."

"Around you, I knew it was just a matter of time," Irvine nodded. "You know why you don't get along with your dad? Because you're too much like him in some ways." He grabbed Gwynt's shoulder before the younger man could form an angry retort. "You don't have to be him. I told Taran the same thing once. You don't have to be him. And the best way you can not be like him, right now, isAt night. Does she sleep well?"

Gwynt shook his head. "No. Nightmares a lot, wakin' up...I get extra blankets an' hold 'em around her and sometimes it helps." He sighed. "Can't even hold her any more. Not warm enough."

"That's a sign she's not holding up, Gwynt," Irvine said softly. "I know you guys weren't ever taught about the finer points of social interaction, since most everyone you talked to was either a psychopath or already dead, but if she's having nightmares then she's not holding up too well. And it'll sometimes be worse, as she gets closer to time. Hormones are just the start of it - right at the base I think it's good old fashioned terror, myself. The idea that you're not in control of yourself anymore."

Gwynt mulled that over, checked it against what he knew, and nodded. It made sense. "So...what do I do then, if she won't abort?"

"Well for one, quit talking to her about it," said Irvine shortly. "If you give her the idea she'll die, she could scare herself to death - you know attitude's important. Second, and you might have trouble believing this, hugs go a long way. If she looks down, or upset, or whatever...just be close enough for her to touch. Put your arms around her and get comfy." He grinned. "Don't go any farther unless she wants you to, mind, but if you do that she'll likely calm down a lot."

"You're kidding. That's awfully clingy."

Irvine shrugged. "It's not a life thing, Gwynt. And not hard. And you'll probably really like the return on your investment." He grinned. "Oh, one more thing. I have stuff I've bought for you guys upstairs. I think you'll like them."

This was too much - too sudden a change in subject. Gwynt only managed a 'Huh?' before being dragged back inside.

* * * * * *

The next morning Gwynt was on his Shooting Star, bound for home. He'd picked up a lot more cargo - boxes from Irvine and Selphie for himself and his siblings, for the most part heavier than Daear's boxes of documents.

Gwynt carried his own gift in his lap, though he knew better than to carry it loaded onto the plane. Irvine and Selphie had been a big help - reassurance both inside and out that things really might turn out okay, even with Squall's betrayal and Cho being so unhappy. He wasn't alone - there were people he could still turn to who would at least try to help, and he wasn't going to forget it.

Carefully polished, carefully tended, Irvine's own Bismark rifle rested on Gwynt's lap - and Purple Demon was tucked into the corner of the seat next to his flight bag.