"Rachel" - A Short Story

I suppose this would probably fall more under "fanfiction," but it's something I've had in my head ever since I finished playing Final Fantasy VI a few years ago. (Was it really that long ago? I need to replay it this summer.)

This is a fanfiction based off of Locke Cole and his love interest, Rachel. If you've never played the game, I'm sure you can follow the story anyways. If you have played the game...Prepare yourself for some feels.

***

She could always make him smile.

He could be having the worst day ever - his lock-picking kit could break, his bandanna could get caught on a nail, and he could be seen by one of the targets - but she was always there to cheer him up.

Until the day she wasn't anymore.

~~~

"Locke! What are we going to do today?" She looked up at him and smiled. He grinned back at her.

"Well," he said, picking her up and making her laugh, "I thought we might go and explore the caverns above town."

She stopped giggling. "But Locke, they're not safe."

"Safe?" He hugged her tighter. "We'll be perfectly safe. Besides, there's that great treasure hidden somewhere in there! Rachel, if we can find that, we can get married. Your father will finally respect me! Please, Rachel, come with me!"

She bit her lip and slid out of his arms. "Locke..."

"Rachel." He pulled her into a kiss, cupping her face in his hands. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. I'll protect you."

She smiled again. "Well, then, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

They packed their bags and left the town, avoiding Rachel's father on their way out. 

"He really doesn't like me," Locke observed, watching her dad curse and rant, then make his way to the bar.

"He doesn't think you're a good influence. After all, you're a thief." Rachel smirked.

"I'm not a thief! I'm a treasure hunter! There's a difference!" Locke protested. Rachel leaned over and gave him a kiss. 

"I'm kidding, sweetheart. Now, where is this treasure?"

~~~

They managed to get thoroughly lost in the caves.

"Locke, I thought you said you knew where you were going!"

"I said I did; that doesn't mean I really do!" he teased. She sighed, and dug through her pack for her lantern.

"It'll be getting dark soon. Maybe we should stop for the night?" she asked.

"Come on, Rach. Where's your sense of adventure? Let's at least go through one more room. I can smell the treasure up ahead!" Locke started across an old wooden bridge, but stopped. "Do you hear that...?"

"Locke!" Rachel sprang towards him and shoved him off the bridge. She started to get up, to join him on the other side, but the bridge's ropes snapped beneath her and she plunged into the darkness.

"RACHEL!!" He kneeled at the edge of the pit, trying to judge the distance to the ground. He gave up, and jumped after her.

~~~

Locke carried her back to the town; he would have to face her father alone. Thankfully, she wasn't dead. She was only unconscious. She'd taken a pretty hard fall, though.
He walked to her house.

"What have you done to my daughter, you rogue?!" her father screamed at him, snatching Rachel from his arms. "Get out! Get out of this house! Don't you dare show your face here again!"

Locke left the town, determined to find the treasure and bring it back to her. It took him three days before he found it, in a small cavern just off the room where Rachel had fallen. It was gorgeous; prettier than he could have ever imagined. He brought it back to the town. He didn't go to the house just yet, though. He stopped by the bar. Better to get information from his friend the barkeep than go into a situation without knowing the details.

"Ah, Locke!" Bernard, the barkeeper, greeted him as he came in the door. "You know Rachel's awake?"

Locke dropped the box he was holding. "She's...awake?!" He snatched the box up and ran out the door, not caring about what he was getting into. 

"Locke, wait!" Bernard yelled after him. "She doesn't... Oh, crap."

~~~

Locke sprinted to Rachel's house, clutching the box to him. She's got to be all right, he thought to himself. She has to be. 

He opened the door and walked right into her house.

Her father looked up from his seat by Rachel's bed. "You! I told you to get out!"

"Shut up!" Locke was shaking with anger and fear. "I came to see her!"

Rachel was sitting up in bed. She was still beautiful, despite the ugly bruise spreading across her forehead, although her blue eyes weren't sparkling as much as they used to. "Who are you?" she asked.

Locke's heart dropped. "Rachel, Rachel, Rach, it's me, Locke." He held out the box to her. "Don't you remember me? We were hunting for this - look, I found it!"

Rachel's father stood up and knocked the box out of his hands. "Go. Away. You cost my daughter her memory. She doesn't remember anything! It's all your fault! Get out!" He grabbed the thief by the collar and threw him out the door. "Don't you ever come back here!"

Rachel got up and limped to the door. "Please, I don't know who you are, but please don't come back! My father obviously doesn't like you!" She threw the box to him, waved, and closed the door behind her.

Locke picked up the box and trudged back to the bar.

"Ah, Locke," Bernard sighed, as Locke sat down at the counter, "I tried to warn you. Rachel doesn't remember anything."

Locke put the box on the counter. "I even found what we were looking for. Why did I not listen to her? She told me to stop for the night - maybe if we had, she'd still be with us."

"Now, now, m'boy. She's still here. She's not dead yet." Bernard tried to console him, but Locke shoved his hand away.

"She's dead to me. I couldn't protect her." He opened the box and pulled out a single gold coin. "Give me whatever this will cover."

Bernard shook his head. "Now, Locke, you know I can't do that. You'd kill yourself, drinking that much."

"I DON'T CARE!" Locke screamed. "Give me something to drink! I don't care if it's milk, vodka, wine, or the beer you make in the back room! Just let me drink until everything's gone!"

Bernard took the coin and put it in his pocket. "Very well, boy."

~~~

Locke stumbled out of the bar many hours later, still clutching the box to him. He went and sat on the stones in front of Rachel's house.

"Locke, buddy, come on. She doesn't need you any more," one of his thief-friends said, sitting down beside him. 

He sniffed, and ran his fingers over the box. "I got it. But I lost her."

The other man sighed. "There are other women out there, Locke. There are others that need you to protect them. Why don't you go after one of them? Rachel doesn't need you anymore."

"But I need her!"

"Buddy, come on. You're coming to my house until you sober up." He helped Locke to his feet and the duo made their way out of town. Neither one of them looked back.

***

It was a year later when Locke heard the news. He'd come back to the town to drop off a bag of treasure at Rachel's doorstep - half of everything he'd found in the last twelve months. He wasn't sure if she was even there any more, but he would continue to do it, once a year, every year.

He stopped by the bar on his way into town.

"Locke! Good god, man! Where have you been?" Bernard exclaimed, taking in Locke's travel-stained and bloodied clothing. "Are you okay?"

"It's not my blood." Locke set the bag he was carrying on the counter. "I came to give this to Rachel. Maybe her father can use it to buy her new things, since I can't do that for her anymore."

Bernard looked at the bag. "Locke...Rachel's gone."

It didn't register. "Well, tell me where they moved. I'll find them. I owe her this much. It's my fault in the first place."

"No, Locke, Rachel's gone. She's dead."

Locke couldn't move. "W-what are you saying?"

"She dead, Locke. The Empire got her. Two days ago, they came through town and dragged all the young men here to the bar, to be recruited. Rachel heard of it and came here, looking for her younger brother. She refused to let him go; he was only twelve, for pete's sake!  No child should have to fight the Emperor's stupid war! One of the soldiers punched her pretty hard; she fell and hit her head on the clock over there." Bernard pointed to the grandfather clock by the door. "She was out for a good three minutes while the soldiers laughed. I picked her up and got her back on her feet. She shook her head, and something sparked in her eyes. They were twinkling for the first time in a year - just like the old Rachel. She said, 'Where's Locke?' That's when I knew that her memory had returned. 'Oh, god,' she said. 'I kicked him out. I kicked Locke out! I let him leave!' She began to cry, but then her brother screamed. That reminded her of why she was there in the first place. She stormed over to the grunt holding her brother, and demanded his release. She punched and kicked the guard, but he wouldn't relent. Then she pulled out your dagger... She must have been carrying it all this time, without realizing it... She got in a good swipe or two - the man'll have a scar over his left eye for the rest of his life, I'm sure. That's when the guard pulled out his sword and ran her through. She died right there on the floor." Bernard pointed to a dark square of wood on the floor - the rug was missing. "Locke, I'm so sorry."

Locke couldn't breathe. "S-she's dead..." He wandered over to the spot on the floor and dropped to his knees, eyes searching for any sign of his beloved. "She can't be d-dead," he heaved, attempting to keep the tears from pouring down his face. "Where is she?"

"Her father's got her. They'll be holding the funeral tomorrow." Bernard came out from behind the bar and bent down next to Locke. "Son, if it's any consolation... The last thing she said was your name. 'Tell Locke I'll be waiting for him.' And then she died, in my arms." Bernard handed him the bag of loot. "Go and see if her father wants any of this."

Locke took the bag with a shaking hand and got to his feet. But he didn't go to Rachel's house - he went to the alchemist who lived in the upper corner of the town. Everyone called the old man crazy; Locke knew that he was a genius.

"I want a potion," he sobbed, practically falling in the door. "I need something to keep her pretty."

The alchemist looked up. "Locke, I knew you'd come." He picked up the bottle that was sitting on the desk in front of him. "I finished it just in time, yes? Kee-kee-kee. Go get Rachel. Bring her here. She'll never age a day, not when I'm through with her!" The alchemist waved the potion in front of Locke's face. "But it doesn't come cheap, you know! Nothing ever does!"

Locke practically threw the bag at the old man. "Take it!" he shouted. "I don't care what it costs! I'll get more if I have to! I have to protect her!"

The old man sighed. "Go get her, Locke."

Locke ran, sobbing, out of the house and towards Rachel's. When he got there, the door was open, and Rachel's father was kneeling by the bed. It was eerily similar to their meeting last year, although this time, Rachel wouldn't be getting up.

"You," Rachel's father sighed, getting to his feet. "I knew you'd come back." His eyes were red from crying, and he seemed to have age fifty years since Locke had last seen him. He took in Locke's travel-stained clothing and weeping face. "You've come to say goodbye."

"I've come to take her." Locke walked slowly to the bed and picked up one of Rachel's hands. It was cold, colder than anything Locke had ever felt before. "I can protect her from the ravages of time."

Rachel's father looked at him. "You're not taking my daughter. Not again. Last time, you didn't bring all of her back."

"She's not leaving the town!" Locke shouted at him. "I know where I'm going to keep her. You can visit her as much as you want. She'll never age a day. She'll stay young and beautiful, even when we're both dead."

The other man sighed, and passed a hand over what was left of his hair. "Take her."

"Sir?"

"Take her. You loved her more than I ever could, I realize that now. Even though she was my daughter - she trusted you, she loved you. Even when she lost her memory, I would occasionally find her picking up things you had given her and smiling. She loved you, Locke Cole. And you did all you could to protect her. Who knows? Maybe if I'd let you stay, she would have remembered things sooner...Maybe if you'd stayed, she'd still be alive. She wouldn't have been here when the Imperial Soldiers came. Now I've lost not only my daughter, but my son, too. They still took Marvin, even after they killed Rachel. Take her, Locke. Protect her." Rachel's father picked up a small bag from the table beside him. "And take these. I'm only keeping one thing - the necklace she wore. It'll be my one thing to remember her by. You can take the other things, keep them, sell them, leave them with her, I don't care. Just tell me where you put her, and promise me you won't leave her alone."

Locke took the bag. "Thank you, sir. I'm sorry I couldn't protect her when it mattered the most." He tied the bag onto his belt and looked at Rachel. She looked so calm and peaceful, despite the faint red stain around the waistband of her dress. She had obviously been dressed in something other than the dress she died in, but too soon. She had bled a bit on the new clothes. He brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. Then he put his arms under her and picked her up. She was extraordinarily light; there truly was nothing left of her.

He and Rachel's father walked to the alchemist's house. 

"Back so soon?" the old man cackled, waving the potion in the air. "You're just in time. It's beginning to get unstable."

He motioned for the two to follow him down to the basement. Down there, he had a bed set up in the center of a clean room. "A bed for our little princess!" he laughed. "Place her there, and step back!"

Locke carefully set Rachel's body down on the bed, and kissed her lips one last time. Then he joined her father in standing against the wall.

"Watch closely," the alchemist said. He propped Rachel up and dribbled the potion between her lips. She coughed and sputtered, causing both Locke and her father to start towards her, but the alchemist waved them back. "It's just the spirit's reaction! She's only been dead two days; that means the potion's working!"

Locke watched as Rachel twisted and squirmed in the alchemist's arms, coughing and gagging on whatever was being poured down her throat. "She's still alive!" he cried.

"No, no, no, Locke! She's dead! It's the potion; it has to revive her spirit before it can encase her in eternal youth!" the alchemist explained. "Stay back!"

Rachel gasped and heaved, sitting bolt upright and her eyes flying open. The waved wildly around the room before settling on Locke. "I love you," she mouthed, then her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed on the bed.

"Rachel!" Locke was beside her in an instant, holding her hand and willing her to sit back up. Her hand was still ice-cold, though, and there were dark purple bruises under her eyes; it was clear that she was still very, very dead. "Oh, Rachel," he sobbed, burying his face in her beautiful blue hair. 

The alchemist looked at Locke, then at Rachel's father. "I'll leave you men alone." He took his bottle and walked wearily up the staircase. It had been decades since he had last preserved someone like that; it shocked him how difficult it was. He could feel the girl struggling to draw breath, struggling to make her heart beat, wanting to rejoin the living. He had felt the love that flowed through her when she noticed Locke. And he had felt the absolute misery from the two living people in the room when they realized she was still dead. He shook his head; he needed to retire.

~~~

Locke left Rachel's bag with her, and left the town that night. Her father went back to his house and became a recluse. When he died just under three months later, he was cremated and his ashes set beside Rachel's deathbed. 

Locke came back every so often, leaving flowers and treasures and all sorts of trinkets in the little room. Soon, it was overflowing, but he kept bringing gifts. He kept searching for the greatest treasure of them all: something to bring Rachel back - the Phoenix Stone.