Maybe World

Title: Victory
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI
Characters: Celes, Locke, Terra, more
Length: 3262 words
Summary: Celes, as the party escapes from Kefka's tower, and afterwards.
Warnings: Some language, I guess?


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It wasn't a rational decision. Her pack had torn on something - it snagged, and she tore free, feeling the weight on her back lighten. When she glanced over her shoulder she noticed it, right among the metal and stone, right by a fallen beam, and turned back for it, but the floor was unstable, weakened by the debris raining around her, and she felt it tilt and give beneath her feet. She scrambled for solid ground but could only catch it with one hand, the other still holding her treasure.

She looked down, knowing she shouldn't, and saw rations and clothes and her bedroll falling into nothing for far too long. Then she felt the hand on her arm and looked up. Locke, his face so close to the edge of the floor he must be lying on his stomach.

"That better be coated in platinum," he said. She thought she laughed, but it came out like a sob. He grabbed her arm with both hands, trying to pull. She probed gingerly with her feet for leverage, not wanting to kick or flail for fear of making things worse. "I will not let go," he said through his teeth, and she was amazed she could hear him over the noise. "I promise." All she could see was his face, and the rest of her felt boneless, helpless, but the toe of her boot hit something solid, and she reached up with her free arm to grab him around the shoulders, dug in with her feet and did her best to climb, and somehow Locke was grunting, had gotten up on his elbows, on his knees, and she was coming up, she got her elbow over the edge and he was falling back and pulling her. She landed half on top of him, her whole body humming with relief and with fear more intense and immediate than she'd felt facing a mad god hours earlier.

She got up on her knees almost immediately, but they collapsed under her and she just sat, shaking. Locke sat up a moment later. "Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded. "Are you crazy?" he demanded then, and she thought she might burst into tears. She hung her head, biting the inside of her lip furiously. "You almost died saving that stupid trinket! I don't care what that is, it's not worth your life! Come on!" He grabbed her by the arm and half-pulled her upright, and she stumbled after him until she managed to find it in her, again, to run.

They hadn't been far from their goal. By the time she'd composed herself again, they were at the open top of the tower, where the airship circled. Celes remembered her first sight of the citadel from the air, the ugly amalgam of Vector-brown cement, steel, and the strange rocks and earth, some like coral and others almost like flesh, from the continent Kefka and Gestahl had brought aloft, and hovering over it all, pieces of machinery, slowly swinging cranes and grappling hooks. They needed those now, and mercifully they were still standing. Terra managed to lift Mog onto the ship, but when she tried to carry Setzer and then Gau she collapsed both times. Celes bent over her as she crouched, panting, the others gathered around at more of a distance, looking from Terra to the ship.

"Go ahead, I'll be fine," Terra said, in her Esper form's strange, birdlike voice. Ignoring that, Celes knelt by her, and Locke stood over them both, while the others caught hooks that began pulling up automatically because of the weight or clambered up wires toward the ship. It wasn't until Terra straightened that both Locke and Celes did as well. There was still one hook down. "Hold onto me," Locke said, wrapping an arm around her waist as he caught at the hook. Celes wrapped one arm around him, trying not to care about the physical closeness, but with the other, she held to the hook along with him, and Terra glided up after them, ready to catch either or both, for all the good they all knew it would do. At the top of the crane, they climbed up onto the metal girders, and Terra held the rope ladder still dangling from the ship's side as they climbed up into the Falcon.

They were all a mess on the deck of the airship, dirty, bloodied, frightened still. Below, the floor they'd been standing on and the cranes that had borne them up collapsed, as the outside of the tower began to crumble; the citadel had been disintegrating from the inside out, but the outside, now, was raining rocks and shrapnel, as if it were shooting up or outward, maybe some final trap Kefka had arranged. They held onto rails or collapsed on the deck as Setzer attempted to steer the Falcon through the debris flying around them. Terra was ahead of them, shining; Celes thought of falling stars, and then tried not to. "She's still there," Locke said softly, beside her. But the light was fading, and she was almost sure he could see it too.

"Her power's failing," Edgar said.

"Terra!" she called. "Your strength is going!" She'd nearly said 'dying.' Terra needed to get back on the ship. There wasn't much more she could do to help them now, but Celes didn't think she could make herself heard. Her heart was in her throat as the ship plunged through nothing, stone crashing into the deck around them. She lost her footing and clung to the railing as they shot forward, her ears echoing with the roar of the wind, shouts and the rattle of impact as something else hit near her.

When they were finally still, level and moving much slower, she had to take a moment to recover. She shrugged the shreds of her pack off her back, slipped her treasure - crumpled, freshly stained with sweat and a small smear of blood from a cut on her hand she only then noticed - inside the tattered remains, and rolled it up. Steady. She stood, and the deck was level though she hadn't fully expected it to be. Locke was slumped by the rail on the other side of the ship, but he stirred as she watched, groaned and started to stand. She could see even from where she was that Setzer's knuckles were white on the ship's steering column. Mog was crouched in a heap at the back of the ship, Umaro huddled near him. Relm was clinging to Strago and the ship's railing, and he'd dug into the deck with his staff; both were on their knees. Cyan had landed flat on the deck, but when she went to him she found he was breathing. Edgar was mussed and shaken but unharmed - he'd nearly been hit by some falling debris before his brother yanked him to safety. Sabin looked far worse - a cut on his forehead had smeared blood over half his face - but he was conscious and he grinned when she tried to heal him. "Nice try," he said.

"Reflex," she said, a bit flustered; she'd been able to use magic ever since she could remember. It felt wrong to have it gone. But she thought she'd seen something, near the prow of the ship, and she left him quickly, hurried forward. Setzer was next to her, she saw, and she realized what the weaving and that final plunge had been about as they both knelt by Terra.

She was back to her human form, lying very still, on her side, slightly curled up. She was breathing, but not deeply, and she didn't respond when Setzer took her wrist. "She does have a pulse," he reported, doubtfully. "It seems a bit faint, but it's regular." Celes touched her arm and began another fruitless heal spell before she could stop herself. "Was there any magic in our medicines and potions?" Setzer asked. "Would they still work?"

"I don't know..." she said. She heard a step, but didn't turn around, because she thought she'd seen Terra's eyes flutter. More footsteps, but the deck was still as Terra opened her eyes, sat up, and looked around.

"I..." she began, and Celes, relief and memory and impulse driving her, flung her arms around her friend. A moment later, she felt Terra return the hug. "I made it," she said, softly, then, louder, "Setzer, thank you," over Celes's shoulder.

"What'd I tell you? Fastest ship in the world!" he replied.

"Only ship in the world," Celes whispered, and she heard a giggle as she pulled back. Terra had tears in her eyes, but she was smiling, her whole face alight with it. Locke was standing near them, and he held out his hands to pull both women to their feet. Setzer touched Celes's shoulder to steady her, Terra staggered into Locke and he hugged her, tears in his own eyes, she thought, then Sabin threw his arms around both Locke and Terra, Gau let out a whoop, and Mog and Umaro echoed it. Setzer embraced Celes from behind, arms around her neck and shoulders, and she leaned shakily back into him, her hands on his arm. "We owe all of it to you," he whispered into her ear, and she shook her head in mute protest. "It's true," he insisted. She was glad of his support, but she still pulled away, squeezing his hand one last time. When Sabin and Locke let Terra go, Edgar grabbed her, grinning, and kissed her on the cheek, then attempted to do the same to Celes before letting go of her shoulders and shaking her hand. She relented and smiled at him, and he brushed his lips over the back of her hand before he was tackled around waist-height by Relm, demanding permission to try her art now and see if it still worked. Sabin slung an arm over her shoulders, crowing about pulling it off in the end, and Cyan favored them both with a smile - the first of his she'd ever seen that seemed really meant for her. Gau seemed to be approaching Terra sideways to lean against her side, Setzer almost to be tousling her hair. Sabin turned loose of her to hug Edgar and Celes saw a chance to slip away, but then Locke was at her side, an arm warm against her shoulders.

"Hey," he said. "I'm... really sorry. For snapping at you in the tower."

"It wasn't really the most welcome way of letting me know you were glad I survived." It was what had been meant, though, and she knew it. Why was he bothering to apologize? It's nothing, she should have said.

"You scared the shit out of me, Celes!" he retorted. "I already thought that was it for Terra, and then you, too– and for something so... so stupid and pointless... Don't ever do that again."

"I doubt we'll face that problem again," she pointed out.

He made a face. "Okay, when you put it like that, I guess it's a bit late to worry about it now. But just... don't worry me like that, okay? Not over something like a silk flower."

She thought she flushed; if she ever did, this would be the time. "It's personal," she replied, stiffly, uncertain if she wanted to shrug off his arm. and was mercifully interrupted by Setzer, calling out an offer of a really impressive champagne, and by Edgar calling out "Kohlingen below!" almost at the same moment. Locke peered over the rail, and the ship dipped and banked as Setzer, apparently, opted to express relief in flight. The others crowded to the rails too, to watch people below, standing near their houses or just emerging, staring, waving. Probably wondering if they could afford hope now; surely, she thought, half the world had seen the tower fall. Half the world could see it as it stood.

It was some time before she could slip below decks and feel, rightly or wrongly, that Locke wouldn't guess why. When she did, walking cautiously through their deserted quarters as the ship banked, she tucked it away carefully in the bottom of the other bag, the one she'd left on the airship, already packed, in the event of victory. A silk rose, he'd seen that rightly; faded by the sun and by age, stained with saltwater and no doubt some sweat and tears besides, frayed at the petals' edges and missing all its leaves, but still the same one she'd tucked away when she held a bouquet on the stage during the aria. Wrapped around its stem was a blue-green ribbon, equally the worse for wear by now, but once he'd said it suited her, and a strip of sun-bleached bandanna she'd found as a bandage on a bird's once-injured leg.

She meant to tell him, she truly did, but this wasn't the time. Later, she thought, when the celebration had subsided, if the moment came. The cabin was quiet, and she thought of staying; she'd never had much part of victory festivities. But this was different from military victories, Imperial victories, and even if she kept her own feelings inside it was good to see joy in her friends.

Back up above, she realized, for the first time, that the sky looked blue again. She heard more congratulations, more snatches of jubilation. Almost everyone had gathered at the rails to watch the world below them, wave at those they knew or just anyone who happened to be out to watch the world come back to life. Mog leaped up onto the ship's railing and performed some complicated, acrobatic dance just as Setzer began descending, somehow keeping his balance. She heard Sabin asking after Shadow, and Relm saying "He stayed back. He was making his own way out, I heard him talking to Interceptor about starting over."

"I wish I'd realized before. I want to make sure he's okay."

"If he wants to start over and take off that mask, no one except Gramps would even recognize him," Relm said. Strago squawked some manner of protest, and Relm replied "I know you knew him," and Celes looked over at them to see Edgar clasp Terra around the waist and dance her around a few steps, both laughing and stumbling, until they tripped over the hem of Setzer's coat. Setzer said something about Mobliz, and Terra, grinning, poked Edgar in the forehead, extricated herself, and joined Celes at the rail, leaning halfway over and waving her whole arm to make herself seen. Celes rested her arms on the rail, watching Terra out of the corner of her eye. Down below, a couple of kids were standing on a rise not far from the building where they'd taken shelter. They'd seen the airship; they were jumping up and down, waving their arms, and one cupped hands around his mouth - or hers, Celes couldn't tell - to shout something inaudible. They were joined by the young man, holding something in his arms. "Is that the baby?" Terra asked, obviously expecting no answer. He held the bundle up, then cradled it to his chest again. Terra waved again, hugely, surely visible to them, and kept waving to them until they were well out of sight.

"So the baby's okay," she said as she finally dropped her arms back to the rail. "And Katarin is too."

"You can tell? Was there some sort of signal you'd worked out?"

"No, I could feel it, before. I mean, I could - it was like I was in the room with everyone at the same time that I was flying, and Katarin was okay, I could tell."

Celes was silent a moment, processing that. "I had no idea you had that ability."

"I usually don't. I did right at first when I... changed. And when I met all the Espers on Crescent Island. It always had something to do with Espers before. Maybe it was just because I was about to lose my powers, this time, or because I thought I was about to die. I don't know."

"Will you miss it?"

"Probably. Not being psychic, that was kind of peculiar and it didn't happen so much I'd get used to it. I liked flying, though, and magic was... you know how it is when you get your hair cut and you keep reaching up to push it back even though it's so short you don't need to?"

"You must be getting some of your memory back," Celes said. "I don't know the last time you got your hair cut, but it's been years."

"Really? That's good, right? That I'm remembering."

She'd never get that laugh of his out of her head, she thought. But then, none of them would. "I suppose."

"We knew each other before, didn't we?" Celes nodded, and glanced at Terra, who was fidgeting with the cuff of her sleeve. "Was I... happy, most of the time?"

Wanting to stall a bit, Celes turned that her back was to the rail, her elbows propped on it. Locke was watching them both, not that far away, and she willed herself to ignore that, to remember childhood; they weren't memories she often called up. "You seemed to be. Things went bad, later, but... you'd rather just know, wouldn't you, rather than be shielded from everything that happened?"

"Yes, exactly! It's part of me, I'd like to know about it— it's just the past. It can't hurt me now."

"I hope that's true." They both fell silent, and Celes turned at the sound of footsteps - Locke joined her at the rail, and he smiled at her but didn't speak. She smiled back, trying in vain to tuck her a loose lock of hair behind her ear. They were flying low, over the ocean, dipping low enough that spray misted the air.

"Okay if I try again?" he asked, then continued without waiting for her answer. "I'm sorry I got upset. I was worried. I didn't mean to start a fight."

"I know," she said, ducking her head; an old mannerism from when she'd hide behind her hair, years ago, before she took to tying it back with headbands or in braids. Thanks to the wind it was wild enough she could almost hide her face in it again. He always seemed to bring that sort of thing out in her, weaknesses she'd tried to smother. "I owe you an apology. Both for the sarcasm and for... if I hadn't put myself at risk, you wouldn't have been in danger."

"Hey, that's—" He shook his head. "It's in the past, right?"

"True."

"Figaro," Setzer called, then attempted to sing the kingdom's name, breaking off in coughing before the third repetition.

"That should teach you respect," Edgar said. "Leave that to Celes."

"I'll never forgive you for that," she said to Locke, smiling again, and he grinned at her. She looked to her other side, and saw Terra untie the ribbon in her hair, wrapping it around her hand and wrist, and head to the prow of the airship, a hand on the rail to steady herself. Setzer set the ship climbing, and Terra's hair streamed out loose behind her, the first time in years Celes had seen it that way. Tomorrow she'd speak to Locke, she thought. Privately. Tomorrow they'd think about the future, now that they had one. For now, knowing it was there was enough.