~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Caged Bird

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Graves could hardly believe that Zack was there.  He had thought he had saw him wandering around on the cargo ship, but couldn't get a good look while in hiding.  The ship was full of seamen, so it was unmistakable spotting the man wandering around on deck.  He stuck out like a sore thumb wearing his SOLDIER uniform, but was without his sword, and that struck Graves as a bit strange.  That man seemed to be unable to detach himself from it normally.  So Graves tried to follow him to get a better idea of what business he would have there, but with a lack of dress whites for himself, his movements were limited.

He managed to catch a glimpse of a helicopter taking flight shortly after he spotted Zack, and after that, the man was nowhere to be found.  He briefly worried that Shin-Ra had sent Zack after him, but once Zack was nowhere to be seen, he relaxed, if only a little.  He knew it was a matter of time before the company sent someone after him.

Now, Graves was in Costa del Sol, finally stretching his legs and back from being holed up as a stow-away for three days.  The journey was faster than he expected, and he could only hope that he might have caught up with his prey who seemed to be one step ahead of him.

He first stopped off at a bar that was surprisingly busy for being early in the day, and he wasted no time in getting wasted.  He didn't mean to drink that much, but after his journey so far, he thought he deserved a drink or two, or three.  And with the women wandering around in bikinis, he couldn't help but buy them a few drinks, and partake in the consumption of more himself.

The buzz was feeling pretty nice, especially paired with some greasy food, decent music and a lively crowd.  He felt so good, that when someone had bumped into him, he didn't mind as much.  Usually, he would give the person a hard time and warn the person to watch it, in more or less words that were more or less not so friendly.

Somehow he made it out to the beach towards the late afternoon and fell into a relaxing sleep on a lounge chair in the sand.  It was stupid of him to fall asleep in such an open area when he was on the run, but alcohol sometimes negated any sort of rational thought that Graves had.  But he took comfort in the fact that he fell asleep with his sunglasses on, and with his arm slung over his face.


~*~*~
Graves had to admit that the beach was comforting.  There was something about the warm sand beneath him and the cool breeze above him that made him feel as if he were completely relaxed.  It reminded him of the vacation he took when he was younger.  

Times had been hard that year, but their hard work was rewarded with a little bit more cash from the coal mines.  His aunt Myrna had offered for the small family to vacation in Costa del Sol or the Gold Saucer, but his uncle Barret had refused for quite a long time.  He didn't want to waste money on frivolous things, especially when his aunt hadn't been healthy.  She had been stricken with illness, and his uncle was determined to save money to call in a good doctor to help her.  But she was quite possibly the most stubborn woman in Corel – she had to be, to put up with his uncle – and eventually her decision was made final.

So the three traveled west to Costa del Sol when it was decided that the Gold Saucer was a bit too childish for both his uncle and himself.  And his aunt didn't seem like she had the energy to wander around such a labyrinth and deal with all the children running amok.  

The vacation started off decently, Graves had to admit.  The first day there, both he and his uncle were on their best behavior, but after a day or two, his uncle started to complain about everything.  Spending too much money, buying unnecessary souvenirs for the neighbors, the sun was too hot, the drinks not strong enough in the bars ….

Graves was still the impatient person he was then as he was now, and he reacted by snapping at his uncle and telling him to shut up and just enjoy the vacation, which of course was adding fuel to the fire and resulted in Graves ditching them to wander off on his own to cool down.  He was respectful towards them for the most part, as they were kind enough to raise him, but Graves could only tolerate so much from his uncle and his short temper, and Graves usually found some sort of outlet to channel his own anger in.  Most of the time it was something to revolt against Barret and ultimately piss him off, as any teenager would.

This time it was a tattoo.

He quite easily passed for an adult at a young age, as he was quick to gain facial hair in his youth, and his size alone would trick any person into thinking he was old enough to fork over gil to get a needle jabbed into him repeatedly.  The first day was the outline, spanning across his broad chest from one pectoral to the other.  He was new to the tattoo world and didn't think it would take a few days to complete the process, but it was too late at that point to turn it all around again.  He cursed himself for not thinking things through, as he had only packed tank tops to the sunny resort, so he had to buy a t-shirt to hide the ink from his uncle until it was finished.

It took two more days, and a lot of his personal savings to complete it, and by the time it was done, both he and his uncle had cooled off, so Graves thought it would be safe to show him what he had gotten, since Barret had a few tattoos himself and seemed to enjoy them.

But it was never safe with his uncle.

First he had stormed into the tattoo parlor to yell at the artist who didn't bother checking Graves' true age, and then he spent the rest of that night blowing off steam by drinking down at the bar, knocking down the beach umbrellas, and then shouting at anyone who remotely looked at him with disdain.  Graves' aunt on the other hand wouldn't speak to him and refused to be seen in public with him until he put on the t-shirt to hide it.

The remainder of the vacation was somewhat peaceful, save for a few flareups in their tempers.  But that was usual within their family, and in a twisted way was a form of bonding for them, as usually after an argument, it was mended with playful taunts and lighthearted insults in reflection.  In the end, his uncle had teased him about the tattoo when all was said and done, but reluctantly approved of it and of the unique choice of design.  And in the end, it was a good vacation, and the only one that they would take.

Not long after, however, tempers were no longer manageable with mere jokes.  Revolting against Barret was the only thing that the young Graves knew how to do, so what seemed like a typical argument between them one day was solved by Graves leaving to Midgar.


~*~*~
Cloud was feeling bottled up in the small clerical area with the sounds of the fax machine screeching behind him, the sound of the phone buzzing with callers on hold, and the insufferable muzak above on the speakers.  The more these noises grated into his nerves, the
more his leg bounced.  The more his leg bounced, the more the part-time receptionist seemed to work slower and become less helpful.  Not that she was any help to begin with.

She would much rather take the opportunity of having a shy and confused boy do her job for her while she nestled herself in the corner playing some cellphone game that caused her to scoff every once in a while, and then laugh almost rudely.  It took Cloud a little while to realize that she wasn't playing a game, but possibly texting friends, which didn't make the situation any more tolerable.

Cloud had tried to speak up and ask for help, but she would, in the most fake voice he had ever heard anyone use, tell him that he was doing just fine and that it was a good learning experience for him, and that she was right there if he would really and truly need her.  Normally he would take that as a challenge and push himself, despite her obvious affectation of actually caring, but he had little to no sleep the night before, and now was suffering from a headache.

In fact, it was more of a migraine than just a simple headache.  He could feel his pulse throbbing through his temples, each little noise seemed to be amplified in his head, and no matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut, the light from the fluorescent bulbs above would somehow make its way to his vision.  It caused him to clench his jaw, and that even made it all worse.  He would try and relax, but with her cackling and all the other noises around him, that was next to impossible.  

Feeling flustered was an understatement.  He was panicked, especially when the psychologist had come out to check on a few things, and the part-time receptionist jumped right to work as if she was good as gold the entire time.  Cloud didn't have the confidence to speak up, however, and just tried to tell himself that it would be over soon, and that perhaps he could wash away the terrible day with some time with Zack.

Lunchtime came not soon enough, and he bolted from there faster than they could clock out for their break.  During his scramble to leave, he heard the psychologist ask him if he would be joining them in the breakroom for lunch, and he couldn't even recall giving her an answer.  And if he had, it certainly wasn't a coherent one.

And it seemed that the office had taken a later lunch than usual, and so the cafeteria was practically empty since the units were continuing their day.  Despite his headache, he would have enjoyed having a little bit of company, either to vent or just use as a distraction from everything, but the only people there were a few stray SOLDIERs scooting down the lunch line.

After he had went to Zack's apartment the night before, he ducked into the library to read, but couldn't gather and hold onto his thoughts long enough to comprehend what he had just read.  His eyes would go through the motion of reading, and he would hear the words in his mind, but any information read would fail to be retained when he was done.  He often would get like that at times when something bored him too much, like studying, but this was a leisure book and one of his favorites.

He was left feeling discouraged at the end of the previous night, and that feeling carried into today where everything just seemed to be working against him.  Had he been in a better mood, his day might not have seemed so bad, but the little things were getting underneath his skin.  He was hoping that having a nice meal would make him feel better, but the realization that he had to go back to the office and continue his day there made any comfort found in eating a good meal completely void.

Finishing his lunch came sooner than expected, and he was left with some time to kill, but he had nothing to do and no one to talk with.  So he spent the last half of his lunch staring out of one of the windows that overlooked the barracks outside that housed the men in the SOLDIER boot camp.

He watched from above as the men scurried about in the obstacle course.  The men were trotting through the weaver, heading towards what everyone dubbed the 'stairway to heaven'.  It seemed similar to the course that the infantrymen endured, but this course was longer, with shorter time limits, and even the obstacles themselves seemed to be built larger, even from viewing them from floors above.  

Cloud could faintly hear the men shouting as they made their way through, and if he looked hard enough he could sort of make out one man from the other.  He decided he wanted to get a closer look at them, as he still had a significant amount of time left on his lunch, so he took the elevator down about six floors or so to where a lounge with a balcony off this side of the building was.

The lounge was mostly full of office workers, but there were some infantrymen walking around, but most likely just on patrol.  He often wondered why he wasn't assigned for patrol throughout the building on his light-duty.  It was easy; nothing ever happened.  There had been a few attacks on the building from the Genesis copies, but it had been a while since the last attack and since then had been calm.  

Perhaps he would just be a liability if something were to happen and he wasn't in his best shape.  But regardless, it was peaceful and boring, really, so he was left feeling a bit bitter about it all.

The balcony only had a few people off to the side, either fiddling with their cellphones or smoking.  He felt out of place between all the men and women in suits, but they paid him no mind.  There was one gentleman leaning off the railing looking down towards the men below running through the course, and Cloud joined in, but at a respectable distance.

Cloud was almost hoping for a conversation, but on second thought couldn't really think of what he would talk about with this man, so he stayed quiet and then hoped that he would too.  But the man actually greeted him after he put out his cigarette and asked how his day was going for the sake of conversation.  Cloud just lied and said that it was fine, even though it wasn't.  Cloud inquired as to how his day was going as well, and the man replied that it was fine.  But judging by the second cigarette that was lit in haste, perhaps he was having a similar day to Cloud's.

They went silent and stared down at the SOLDIER recruits below, listening to their grunts and cries, and to the operatives yelling at them to keep going if they were to waver.  Cloud could see them clearly now, and was able to actually see faces, even if it was still a bit far away.  He watched them – studied them – for about ten minutes and he frowned to himself.

The men below collected themselves and received their times on the course, then started to assemble with their issued broadswords to practice.  It looked as if they were continuing on a lesson as the men automatically paired off into sparring partners without so much direction from the SOLDIER operatives that observed the recruits.

Graves wasn't there.

Cloud looked to the man beside him, who was finally finishing up that cigarette, and asked him if those were indeed the newest SOLDIERs, and the man nodded and said that he came out there every day for the past three weeks to watch the men train since they began, and that it looked like a grueling process for them, but everyone seemed to be handling it well.

But Cloud stopped listening to the last part of the man's speech as something clicked inside his head.  Three weeks.  The SOLDIER tryouts were three weeks ago, when he was in the hospital the first time.  Elici had been the one that was promoted, not Graves.  But perhaps Graves had been promoted, but never mentioned anything until it was finalized.  But if it had been finalized, it would have been three weeks ago and he would have started the boot camp when these men did.

He continued staring down at the men, trying to convince himself that it was just too hard to see as he tried to really take in the men's features.  He could get closer to see better, right up to the chain-linked fence if he wanted, but he didn't have the time.  In fact, before he realized it, he was already five minutes late in returning back to his duty.
  
He cursed rather loudly as he realized it would probably take another five minutes getting back, and he panicked.  He wasn't sure how much trouble he would get into for being late, but even being a single minute late for his regular duties could result in tongue-lashings and strange punishments, and surely if he were late to even light-duty it could result in something similar later on from his superiors if it were to be reported back.

Pressing the button for the floor in the elevator numerous times did not make the elevator move any faster, but there wasn't much else for him to do to make him feel better besides cursing and fidgeting in his own skin.  The cart seemed to take its sweet time getting to the floor, and when the doors opened he bolted from the elevator and ran as fast as he could without knocking into anyone in the hallways.  He reached the double doors and entered roughly, but then stopped short, his breath coming out in ragged pants.

"Strife?  What're you doing here?"

Cloud blinked in confusion, his eyes going from Kunsel who stood before him, waiting for his answer, to another SOLDIER next to Kunsel that he didn't recognize, and then to the men in the unit who were standing at attention in an inspection line.

He was in the barracks.

"You alright?" Kunsel said slowly, looking him over as the other SOLDIER was giving him a similar look.

Cloud stammered for a moment, glancing around and trying to figure out how he ended up back there and not the medical ward.  It wasn't even on the same floor.  "Y-yes, sir.  I just …"

"Did you need something here …?"

He could feel the eyes of the men in his unit staring at him, even though their gaze was straight ahead on Kunsel, waiting for instructions.  "No, nothing, sir.  Sorry, sir."  He turned and walked swiftly to the doors.

"Strife, wait!  I have a message for you!"

Cloud shook his head as he opened the door.  "Sorry, sir, I have to go.  I'm late!"

"But it's from–"  Kunsel watched as the doors shut, and he sighed, his shoulders slumping.  "–Zack."


~*~*~
It didn't take long for the afternoon sun to beat down on his skin, and it heated him to where it practically sobered him up.  Graves grumbled himself awake and found that the beach was getting too full for his liking.  It had the beautiful women that he liked, but children were now running around making a ruckus and kicking sand about with their shrill squeals, and he would much rather be listening to SOLDIER operatives yelling at him and demeaning him.  He decided to drop into several of the bars that the town had, not only to get something to eat and possibly drink again, but to begin to ask around about Mejia.

He knew Mejia was a man to frequent bars often, as there were plenty of times that he ran into him back in Midgar when he was out on the town during liberty.  They would keep their distance from each other, even before Graves began to hate him for what he did to Ratcliff.

Angels Mejia once shared the barrack with the men not as a superior, but as an equal.  He kept to himself, really only speaking when spoken to, only fought back when provoked; just a typical grunt.  His rifle scores were impressive, as was his physical fitness abilities and materia usage.  He was pretty much on par with Graves, so it came as a shock to the man when Mejia was promoted to 3rd Class over him, and countless other men who tried out, including Elici.  

It was rumored that he paid off some of the operatives above as a bribe to be promoted, but then of course rumors of Mejia offering sexual favors as a bribe were never too far behind.  Then again, those types of rumors floated around about anyone that proved to be some sort of threat to everyone else, and even those rumors were spread about Kunsel as well, although those were over the fact that he gave blowjobs for information.  When Kunsel heard about those rumors, he took it in stride and laughed it off, because that was what had to be done.  It wouldn't be worth putting his position in danger by losing his cool over rumors.

But Mejia seemed to take those rumors to heart and let them eat away at him.  Once he returned from the SOLDIER boot camp as a superior, it was either the rumors or the simple fact that he had to prove himself to those he once called his peers that caused his demeanor to turn.  The once neutral man was suddenly a maelstrom of cynicism and hostility towards those who opposed him, and even towards some who didn't.  Standard heckling towards the unit was taken too far, twisted and abused for his own sense of personal glory.

It was hard to pass it off as simply 'trying to prove himself'.  At first, there were some who tried to give the man the benefit of the doubt, and they tried to put themselves in his shoes.  Going from one of them, to someone who suddenly had authority must have been difficult.  Mejia received a lot of disrespect from a good majority of those around him – or below him, rather – and it was a constant struggle to assert his position above them.  Yelling, disciplining … it hardly had any effect on the men, so a drastic change of commanding had to be implemented to at least gain a little respect.

New rumors began to spread about Mejia threatening those who opposed him.  Yelling and disciplining turned to threats and physical confrontations, possibly even extortion and blackmail.  Whatever he could use in his arsenal to win respect, he would take it.  But whatever respect he may have gained soon turned into a combination of fear and apathy.   Morale and motivation suffered, tempers flared … the unit was knocked into disarray.

There were other SOLDIERs assigned to lead the unit alongside him, but Mejia seemed to knock whoever was sent out of the race, whether it was from a lack of teamwork, fear, or aggression, so Shin-Ra assigned 2nd Class Kunsel to lead.  He was almost sent in as a babysitter, and of course that rubbed Mejia the wrong way, and perhaps he even attempted to outsmart Kunsel, but that man always seemed to have dirt on everyone else, but nothing on him.  So Mejia could do nothing but accept it, and work beneath the 2nd Class with seemingly good behavior, until Kunsel's back was turned.

Mejia took the phrase, 'when the cat is away, the mice will play', and ran with it.  That was when he would implement his reign of terror and push what the SOLDIERs were allowed to do with the infantrymen a little too far.  But by then most of the men where either too scared to do or say anything about it, or their silence was bought, whether it be literally bought, or figuratively.  Either way, when Mejia would have his fun with tormenting the men, nothing was ever said or done about it.

But even still, Mejia would never really take his aggression out towards Graves, and perhaps it was because the man wasn't as gutsy as he portrayed himself to be.  Graves noticed that he continued to keep that distance they had before, but mainly focused on the men who were more susceptible to his foul play.  Preying on the weak – it was a nature that stemmed from the animals.  It was how predators survived in the wild, and was no different with the men of Shin-Ra.  The company itself was established on such a concept.  Siphoning energy from the Planet, it had no way of defending itself.  So man took that opportunity to manipulate and use it for man's own personal gain.

So who was to say that it was unnatural to survive in such a way in the army?  Oftentimes it reminded Graves of the proverbial bully – heckling the weaker children for lunch money.  Admittedly, it was amusing for Graves to watch at times, as he was no stranger to such mannerisms, but when Mejia began to mistreat Ratcliff, and then began to aim it towards Cloud when the boy joined, that was when Graves drew a line.  Selfish, he knew, but he felt that he couldn't fight for everyone all the time, otherwise Shin-Ra would be a one-man army consisting of only him.

Graves was now feeling rather disgusted with himself for allowing his thoughts to not only muse, but muse about such a worthless man.  He was not one to dwell on much, and just doing so only fueled his anger, which to him might not have been so much of a bad thing as it was reckless.  He found himself buying another beer and sauntering around the bar throwing out general descriptions of his 'lost friend', whom he had traveled with there on vacation.  He realized that most of these people were tourists and most likely came and went frequently.  And then he realized that most of these people were hammered around the clock, so it was useless talking to them.

He poked around a few shops, not only asking for information, but trying to sweet-talk some of the shopkeepers to give him a little bit of a discount.  Perhaps he shouldn't have bought so much beer at the bars.  He managed to haggle the prices of some potions and accessories down, but not the materia.  The man manning the materia booth was more than adamant that the prices stayed where they were, if not slightly higher than normal.  Graves regretted being unable to buy any healing materia, but bought potions instead, even if it took up more space in his seabag than he planned.

It was a bit cumbersome, but after a few minutes of sitting on the beach and reorganizing his bag, he accomplished getting everything in there that he needed, with room to spare, which he just filled that space with whatever foods he could restock up on.  He even managed to keep enough room for a few of his dirty magazines, which he just rolled up and shimmied between everything else.  But keeping these magazines not only served to amuse him when he was bored, they also served to fill the space in between his items so they wouldn't rattle around as he traveled, making his movements quieter and perhaps more stealthy.

After wandering around for a bit, he realized that his newly shaved head was getting sunburned.  He had completely forgotten that he had shaved off his hair in Junon, and it wasn't until there was a stinging sensation on his scalp when he entered the rays of the sun did he notice.  He was also used to wearing his issued helmet while outdoors, but now that he had discarded it off into the ocean once he smuggled himself aboard the sea vessel, he had to remember to take precautions that he normally wouldn't have to think about.  Perhaps the local clinic would have sunscreen.  That was when the realization of a newfound freedom hit him.  

He had been with Shin-Ra for three years.  Once he signed the contract, he signed his individuality, his life over to the company.  The company tried to get him and the other men to stop thinking for themselves, and start thinking as Shin-Ra property – nothing more than a tool for their gain.  He was told when to wake, what to eat, when to shower, when to sleep … He had hoped that he could endure it longer as he tried to make his way into SOLDIER.  He saw the sense of freedom that the SOLDIERs seem to have, more so than the infantry division, and he had wanted it.  To get paid more for doing what he loved most, for relatively being his own person – as much as Shin-Ra would allow – Graves had wanted it.

He put up with what he would consider a lot of shit as a grunt in infantry, and he felt as if he had worked hard enough to get some sort of recognition.  When Mejia passed him up as SOLDIER he was jealous – offended, even.  His outlook towards Shin-Ra quickly turned to disgruntlement and resentment.  What used to be the energy he put into motivation to be the best, then began to steer towards flaunting himself in other ways, since he was overlooked.  Heckling, taunting, inflating his bravado – all were tactics to assert his presence with the other men, but was no longer focused on asserting himself to continue on in SOLDIER any longer.

He wondered if there would be a way out.  He had signed a six year contract, and felt as if he could no longer even stand to be there after only a few.  His freedom was slipping away – it had slipped away.  But when Mejia fled Shin-Ra, Graves had to follow.  It was his way out, it was his way of justifying setting himself free.  Graves was not a man of many regrets, and he tried not to think about what Shin-Ra would do to him for deserting, but as ignorant and naïve as it sounded, he would cross that bridge when he got to it.  Perhaps there could be someway for him to turn this all around and mask it over as if he were some sort of hero, but somehow he doubted that.  Perhaps he could have Zack or Kunsel defend him, but upon further thought, he really didn't deserve – let alone earn – any defense from either of those men.


~*~*~
The day finally ended with the annoying beeping of the time clock as he punched in his time, and he couldn't leave the office fast enough once again.  And dinner in the chow hall was lonely once again.  For added effect to his misery, the light above the table he sat at as he ate flickered and died out, playing into the already isolated feeling he had that day, and for the past few days.  It was conveniently ironic, he had thought, and briefly scoffed a small laugh at it.

He then had tried to go to Zack's apartment after he ate, but the man wasn't home yet again.  He couldn't help but hopelessly wait around for him, hoping that he would return after business hours, even if he was on duty all the time and business hours didn't really apply to him.  Cloud didn't know what else to do.  And he had only meant to stay there for thirty minutes, but he lost track of time, despite doing nothing but standing around, and a half hour turned into a full hour.

Cloud felt pathetic, there was no other word he could use for himself at that moment.    He felt like he needed someone to talk to – anyone – but there seemed to be no one around that would remotely care about anything he had to say.  Ratcliff still hadn't returned from his mission and even Kunsel seemed to have been either granted liberty or was assigned a mission of his own.  He was hoping to catch a few words with him, but the 3rd Class SOLDIER who was with Kunsel earlier that day was now in charge of the unit, he saw as he entered, and that made everything seem even more strange and foreign.  Of course, Kunsel had been solely in charge of the barrack without any liberty since Mejia disappeared, so he wasn't that surprised.  The man needed a break, it seemed.

That SOLDIER introduced himself to Cloud rather firmly, and whether that was because he was trying to seem like a typical SOLDIER, or because he was wary of him from his behavior when he entered the barracks earlier, Cloud wasn't sure.  He could care less, and he found himself unable to stop himself from immediately asking if he had heard anything back about Ratcliff, to which the SOLDIER simply shook his head and almost seemed offended that he would be so quick to question without so much as an introduction in return.

Cloud read into his expression and quickly righted himself and offered a salute, an apology, and finally his rank and name – standard introduction, which by now was like second nature to him.  After a conversation was shared about Cloud being on light-duty and his capabilities, Cloud forced himself to relax on his bunk and read another one of his favorite books.  It wasn't long until he lost interest, however, and he had to leave the barracks as more men from the unit began to pile in and cause a ruckus.

He wandered around for a bit, passing by many of the SOLDIERs and infantryman who were returning from missions, classes and drills.  He scanned them for anyone that he knew, but it was just full of unfamiliar faces.  It was frustrating, as he felt a strong urge to just have someone to talk to, and the brief thought of seeing if the psychologist was still in her office crossed his mind, but that was quickly wiped away as fast as it wiggled its unwanted way in.

He didn't even know what he wanted to talk about.  It didn't have to be about anything in particular.  He just … wanted to interact with someone that he cared about, and that cared about him, no matter how much or how little.  He found himself at Zack's apartment, once again knocking on the door and listening intently.  But he never came.  Time was lost once more, and it wasn't until Cloud felt himself nodding off as he leaned against the wall did he realize he was being pathetic all over again.


~*~*~
Graves reached the clinic and entered, immediately being swallowed up by the smell of sterile dressings and a nauseating cleanliness.  It was a smaller facility, mostly consisting of a few rooms dedicated to beach-goers who suffered either heatstroke, sunburns or drowning, or sometimes a combination of the three.  Perhaps even a few rooms were equipped with stomach pumps for the occasional tourist who binged on nothing but chili cheese fries and alcohol for a weekend.

It was fairly empty, and the only sounds were of a few heart monitors bleeping in some rooms, and a few nurses chatting with each other at a nurses' station.  He glanced around for a moment, taking in everything that he could.  The nurses' mannerisms, and the energy in the room was calm as they laughed and hardly took a second look at him as he approached.

He stopped at the main desk in view of the nurses' station behind and he waited.  He realized he didn't have much of a plan at that point, and quickly began to put together some sort of plan on a very short whim.

A few nurses turned their heads at him as he reached the front desk, and he smiled wide, hoping to draw one of the female nurses to him, but a male nurse greeted him instead.

"Are you admitting or visiting?"

Graves shook his head from his failed thoughts and looked at the man who seemed in no way interested in any answer Graves would give.  "What?"

"Do you need medical attention, or–"

"Naw.  Was jus' wonderin' if ya sold sunscreen here.  My head is gettin' burnt."

"We have samples for our patients, but the actual product is sold at the kiosk outside the inn on the other side of town," he said blandly, almost robotic.

"Ah, got it.  Thanks, bro."  He turned to walk away, as did the nurse, but he stopped and slapped a hand to the counter.  "Actually.  I'm visiting."

"Oh?"  The nurse stopped himself from turning and peered at Graves almost suspiciously.

"Yeah, uh.  My friend.  Well, see, he's not really a friend ..." Graves said, and the nurse lifted an eyebrow at him as he stumbled for not only his words, but a solid plan.  He was trying to think hard; to think like a SOLDIER on the run.  Mejia was a wanted man, would he be stupid enough to use his real name if he were to visit an infirmary?  Would he even visit an infirmary and run the risk of being holed up in one spot for too long?

The nurse waited for him to continue, tapping a pen against the desk in annoyance.

"See, this bro was hurt bad, real bad.  Right in the gut."  He motioned down to his stomach where he saw the sword wound inflicted by Kunsel's blade.  "I helped 'im out with a monster he was havin' trouble with, but then he took off.  Was just wonderin' if he might've been here an' if he was cool an' all.  Jus' a shot in the dark."

"What's the patient's name?"

"See, that's what I dun know.  Was jus' passin' him in the fields and saw he needed help.  I like to help people, ya know?  Couldn't jus' leave the poor bastard."  And how he meant the 'bastard' part.

"Description?"

"Fuck, bro, I dunno.  He's like, my age, my height, a little smaller build, tan skin, but lighter than mine, brown hair …"

"Wait here."  The nurse walked off and disappeared behind a partition at the nurses' station.  He heard murmuring behind between the male nurse and a female nurse.

Graves pressed his lips together.  He wasn't sure where he was going with all this, and what he would do if Mejia was really there or not.  And if he was allowed to see him ….

A brief moment later and the male nurse returned with a frown and actually a sympathetic look.  "I'm sorry, sir, but that patient has requested no visitors."

"Well, what's the bro's name so I can look 'im up later?  Wanted to ask 'im where he got his sword."

"Sorry, the patient has also requested that his personal information not to be disclosed with anyone."

Graves offered up a casual shrug, even though he was shouting expletives from excitement in his head.  "Hey, man, it's cool.  I understand all that shit."  Graves slapped the counter lightheartedly a few times before he turned to leave after flashing the same large and flirtatious smile he walked in with.  He didn't care that the nurse was a man, he was just happy to hear him speak those words.  "Thanks anyway, bro," he said, and he left.

Mejia was actually there.  He knew that the injury must have been serious, and it was just his luck that Mejia would have to seek medical attention for it.  Now he just had to figure out how to pay him a visit.  It would take a bit of thinking, and he would get to that in a little bit.  He wanted to celebrate a little for finally catching up to him.  Maybe he would check back in, or stake out the clinic across the way at a bar.

When he stepped out into the streets, he instinctively went to reach for his issued helmet, but chuckled when he realized it was no longer on his person.  It was a strange feeling, but a welcomed one.  He would still have to find that sunscreen, as he could feel his scalp burning, but for now, he walked around in the sun without his helmet, and for once in a long while felt what he thought was freedom and freethinking.  And it felt … liberating.

          
~*~*~*~*~*~*~

… To be continued in Chapter Thirty: R&R