AN: I started writing this at 10pm one night on a whim hoping to get about 1,000 words of something down because I'd had writer's block for months and was despairing at my lack of creativity. At 4am the following day, I came out of the writing trance I'd fallen into with this monstrosity at nearly 8,000 words, a short story that was practically a novella.
I still have writer's block but little incidents like this one give me hope for my own sanity.
FYI This is the raw, uneditted version as written from start to finish in that one sitting. I will come back to fix the mistakes and yes, the plot holes and whatnot too but for the moment, I really just wanted to share this idea.
Warnings: Shounen-ai 8x9 angst and loss of coherence towards the end because 4am happened.
I recommend listening to 'My Truth' of the 'Your Lie in April' soundtrack whilst reading this. It's a truly inspiring piece.
Thanks for reading.
Lucid Dreaming
All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream. ~Edgar Allan Poe
Squall was 5 when he first had the dream.
It was the first dream he'd ever had where he'd known he was dreaming and honestly, he wasn't quite sure what to do with that knowledge. His sis, Ellone, had spoken of being aware during a dream often and had taken great pleasure in explaining how she'd changed the dreamscape around her, made herself fly and performed other impossible god-like stunts.
Should he be doing something like that?
He glanced around, taking in the current dreamscape, a wooded area by the looks of it with flowers dotting the ground in patches of miscellaneous sunlight. The trees were lush with leaves and he could hear the birds singing. In front of him was an opening that lead to what appeared to be a lake and, instinctively, Squall took a few steps towards the open air. He noticed, as he started moving, that he was wearing his day clothes, his worn shoes squashing some wild flowers as he tried to navigate his way over bracken and exposed roots.
When he reached the lake, he looked first to the left and then to the right. In each direction, there was no sign of land and, because he knew he was in a dream, Squall knew without having to walk for miles that there was no land - that the water ran on forever, flowing on a course that couldn't be disrupted.
Over the other side of the river, there was another wooded area but, unlike his side, it was dark. The trees had lost their leaves in the tail end of what seemed to be fall and a dark, grey-black cloud hung over it, pelting rain into the ground. For a while, he stared at the ominous other side and wondered if he could jump it without falling into the lake. He knew he was dreaming so surely he would make it…but then again he was expecting to fall into the water so probably would…
He was about to give it a go when the bridge materialised in front of him, coming into being as though it had always been there and Squall frowned because he couldn't figure out if he'd made that bridge or not. Bridges weren't as fun as trying to jump but he shrugged and made a start of trekking out into the middle of the lake, not the sort of kid to waste something useful. Matron had taught him that they couldn't be wasteful because of how poor they were and Squall liked to make Matron happy.
In the middle of the bridge, Squall stopped and sat down, letting his feet dangle over the water.
Then he heard the sniffling.
Glancing up and over to the dark other side he found himself staring at a boy so small he couldn't have been more than a toddler. He had matted blonde hair caked in mud and-was that blood?-, his face was dirty, a bruise was forming on his cheek where he'd obviously been hit recently and his blue eyes were devoid of life. His weird clothes were torn and crumpled, his arms were bare and he shivered under the relentless curtain of falling rain, wrapping his arms around his small body and crouching down just in front of the bridge.
Squall scrambled up, alarmed by the state of the little boy and willing him to go away so he could finish his boring dream about the bridge and wake up but no matter how hard he wished for it, the boy remained, doubled over himself on the ground before the bridge.
When he let out a half stifled sob, Squall felt himself move towards the smaller boy on a reflex but paused when he saw the totally cool-ass monkey-like tail swinging behind the boy in a dejected, drooping sort of way.
'Maybe he's a GF!' Squall thought excitedly, picturing how pleased his Matron would be if he'd managed to catch his very own GF at only 5 years old. He could even be the legendary SeeD Matron was so fond of telling him about - the hero that was destined to defeat the evil in the world.
"Hey!" he called out, watching the boy jerk back into the shadow of the trees, his expression so fearful that Squall had to wince a little.
Sure, he might be a GF but he's kinda wimpy.
"Are you ok?" Squall asked, deciding to stay where he was in case he scared the little GF off.
The boy stared at him through wide blue eyes before shaking his head so fast that it became a dull golden blur.
"No," the little boy stated. "I fell asleep outside and now I'm cold and wet and I don't know where my house is."
Squall let that run through his system for a while before responding. Matron had told him that some GFs were particularly tricky and liked to be outwitted before someone could earn the right to junction them. Maybe this was one of them.
"Is your house in the forest?" Squall asked, deciding that he was clearly a genius because the boy's house was obviously going to be on Squall's side of the bridge (which would represent how a GF came to live in someone's brain) and all he had to do was lead the boy across the water.
The little blonde boy frowned, hugging his knees as hard as he could, relaxing into his previous state of utter misery now he was sure that Squall didn't mean any harm.
"Don't 'member," the boy muttered, his tail sinking down beside him.
Squall's expression faltered slightly as he considered this new information. If the kid didn't even know that he was supposed to be taking Squall's cue to come across the water to the other, sunnier side then how was Squall supposed to help him and gain a GF? Was this one stupid or something? He glanced down at the water's reflective surface as though it had the answers, wondering if maybe he was supposed to offer the GF a new home rather than trying to find one that possibly didn't exist but when he looked up to give it a try, the little blonde boy had gone.
Squall felt such a powerful and disappointing sense of loss that he instantly woke up in his little bed in the house by the sea. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness and the sounds of his sleeping 'siblings', he promptly forgot the dream though the feeling of failure remained.
He was 7 the next time he had the dream and knew where he was immediately. Making his way across the bridge, he was prepared when the little blonde with the tail appeared - vastly changed since the last time he'd been to this place. Instead of the tiny boy wearing thread bare clothes looking battered and bruised, a taller boy stood, his hair much longer and tied out of his face by a length of fraying brown chord. His eyes were hard but alive this time and he wore a sceptical sort of eyebrow raise that had clearly been copied from some adult somewhere. It was a bit too theatrical to be his own expression considering his raised eyebrow had practically disappeared into his hairline and was twitching with the force of being maintained. He was wearing brown slacks, heavy duty boots that were clearly far too big for him, a belt adorned with several pockets and pouches and an old dress shirt that had a hole in it near the collar.
"Hey!" the blonde boy called out, racing over the bridge without hesitation this time to meet Squall who was a little taken aback by the boy's overzealous approach, his eyes widening when the boy stopped just inches from him, staring up at him.
"You grewed!" the boy exclaimed, jabbing a finger in Squall's face.
"And you got different clothes!"
"Same to you," Squall offered back, batting the blonde boy's finger out of his face with a sigh of mild irritation. This kid was worse than Zell, honestly.
The little blonde bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet, his face alight with eagerness.
"I'm Zidane," he said by the way of an introduction. "What's your name?"
"Squall," Squall answered simply, raising his own eyebrow as he wondered where this was going. He was sure that Zidane was a GF…why else would he have a tail…and those weird clothes…maybe it was just a dream thing and Zidane wasn't actually anything special at all. That was beyond disappointing, especially coz Seifer had managed to actually draw some magic successfully earlier that day and Squall was annoyed that he'd fallen behind his long time rival.
"I'm 6," Zidane told him triumphantly, like this was a big deal. "How old are you?"
"7," Squall responded simply again, wondering if he could wake himself up seeing as he was aware he was dreaming. He'd have to ask sis how to do that so he could avoid stupid dreams like this one in future.
"Sorry I didn't talk a lot when I saw you before, I was lost and forgot everything so I didn't really want to talk but it's fine now. Boss found me and now I live with the Tantalus in the clock tower! Who are you? Where do you live?"
"With Matron by the sea," Squall clarified, resigning himself to having to stick out this conversation and sitting down on the bridge.
The blonde cocked his head to the side, watching the older boy's gloomy expression.
"Hm. I don't think you like me very much but that's ok. Blank didn't like me either when I first got to the clock tower but I got him to warm up to me when I stole some candy from the sweet shop by the station. Hey, do you think I could practice my stealing on you? Boss says I gotta start earning my keep next year so I gotta get real good at stealing."
Squall scowled disbelievingly up at the blonde who simply gazed back with innocent enthusiasm.
"C'mon," he said, "I won't actually steal it...whatever it is. You can have it back the minute I get it."
"I'm not gonna help you learn to steal stuff!" Squall exclaimed, totally affronted. "What the hell kind of place have you been living in?"
The little blonde with the tail bristled, poking Squall in the chest and pouting so hard Squall was afraid his bottom lip was going to fall off.
"Shut up! Just you shut up about Tantalus! They're the greatest group of bandits this side of Lindblum!"
Squall was about to retaliate with his standard 'I don't like to be touched' but something slammed into his brain with the force of a bullet train. He'd just started learning geography with Matron last year…where the hell was Lindblum? And bandits? He'd never heard of there being any bandits roaming around…what were they? Gypsies? Was he just telling himself some weird bed time story as he slept?
As if on cue, the monkey-boy disappeared right in front of him, his mouth half open in some kind of angry comment and Squall blinked owlishly before waking up in his own bed next to Zell.
The dream, along with the image of the blonde boy, slipped from his mind almost instantly though he was left with the unnerving feeling that he had just witnessed something a little bit…abnormal.
The next day, he grilled sis on how dreams worked anyway.
This time, it was raining on his side of the river. He scowled as the water soaked into his thin black shirt and his only pair of frayed grey jeans, peeling the brown tresses of hair from his face to tuck them behind his ears and squinting through the dark trees in the direction of the lake. The water was high when he made it to the bridge and turbulent, violent waves broke on the bank as the current picked up speed. He glared at it all. The rotten weather here was a perfect reflection for how he felt in real life at the moment.
The monkey-boy was waiting for him on the bridge and for a moment, Squall contemplated not going out to meet him. What would happen to the dream if he just stayed on his side of the river anyway? Would these weird dreams about this nuisance of a boy fade? Would he just go back to having normal dreams like every other normal person?
He waited for the dream to dissipate.
But it didn't.
And though he tried really hard to wake himself up, nothing happened.
So he took the inevitable steps onto the bridge over the river, glowering as the rain became a light drizzle the further away from the forest he got until he was standing in front of the blonde who had changed quite dramatically again, his hair nearly long enough to brush his butt, the shorter bangs framing his face in a wildly unkempt array.
The rain had stopped the moment he was close enough to interact with the younger boy, the blonde himself dry and looking over Squall with an expression of open concern that irked Squall so much he actually wanted to punch this stuck up little urchin whose life with the 'Tantalus' was probably going so perfectly.
He expected to be bombarded with uselessness, stupid questions about why he was hanging around in the rain or why he didn't come to meet the blonde on the bridge but, weirdly, the little blonde just took off his dark green jacket and moved around behind Squall who growled like a wild animal when his personal space was invaded.
The little blonde boy just gave him a totally brash and unafraid look, reaching up on tiptoes to drape the small jacket over Squall's shoulders and Squall blinked when he settled down on the bridge with his boots hanging over the water.
The jacket was warm.
For a while, Squall stood above the monkey-boy and stared at him, his expression shifting from bemused to defiant because the blonde was probably getting uncomfortable under his relentless staring and he didn't care, then from defiant to weary. When he realised that the dream still wasn't going to go away and leave him alone, he sat down beside the little monkey and stared at the water, losing himself to thought.
"I think…" Squall eventually said, more to himself than his companion who he was pretty sure was just someone his imagination had made up anyway. "I think I wanted to stay at the house by the beach with Matron and sis and everyone forever…"
He didn't have to look at the little monkey-boy to know the blonde was cocking his head to the side in thought, mulling this all over.
"That's kinda weird isn't it? Don't you want to go and explore?"
Squall bristled, the anger heating him from the core up.
"Why is it weird? Surely everyone wants a home! Somewhere to return to! I wanted to stay with Matron and sis, I just wanted things to stay normal but they had to go and now I'm…now I'm…"
Deep, uncomfortable silence followed this and Squall knew, just knew, his yelling had made the little blonde cry. As he'd made every other kid cry with merely a look since he'd first arrived at the Garden. They were all just wimps…
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a small, warm hand hold his own in a sure grip.
On impulse, Squall snatched his hand away and stared at the blonde who looked mildly affronted.
"What are you doing?"
"Holding your hand, wassit look like I'm doing?" the blonde retaliated ruthlessly, jutting his chin out in a show of challenge.
"I don't like touching!" Squall threw out, his ultimate defence against this sort of thing.
Zidane gave him a look that was part intense curiosity and part disgust.
"Really? Who doesn't like touching? If you can't touch things, how the hell do you do anything? How do you get dressed? How are you wearing that shirt, those trousers?
Squall actually gawped at the boy sitting next to him, the boy with the tail who was so earnestly puzzled, his blue eyes alight as he tried to work this new titbit of information out, that Squall felt a bubble of mirth rise inside him, building up like some weird volcano until the snort just came right out.
"What?" the blonde asked incredulously, mildly alarmed as Squall's shoulders began to shake with the force of his laughter.
"People…people," Squall choked out between guffaws. "It's just people I don't like touching!"
When Zidane's expression became no less puzzled, Squall laughed so hard he was afraid that he was about to hack up a lung or something. Since he'd had to move out of his home, since he'd been tossed into the world to make his own way before he was ready, he hadn't so much as cracked a smile, his thoughts turning darker and darker until he was afraid he couldn't stand it anymore. This laughter, it wasn't normal, he couldn't stop it once he started and he didn't think he'd ever laughed so hard at something that wasn't even actually funny but it felt good, refreshing and he actually felt a lot less angry when the laughter finally subsided.
"I think you're a weirdo," the monkey-boy told him, leaning back on his hands and turning his face towards the sky. "But I'm glad I got to see you smile once."
Squall felt a sort of funny, squiggling movement somewhere deep inside him and for once, he was the first to disappear, waking up with the monkey-boy's serene face behind his eyelids for the few seconds before the dream faded and he found himself in his new dorm room at the Garden, the unfamiliar dynamics of the room unnerving him for a few minutes until he remembered what had happened to him, why he wasn't at home and the overlying sombreness he'd felt for the last few days settled back over him again.
This time though, he just felt kind of sad, he wasn't angry enough to make the other kids cry anymore.
The sky was overcast but not raining or particularly stormy on Zidane's side of the river and Squall took that as a good sign when he set foot on the bridge, peering over the sloping wood to try and catch sight of his usual companion. He was wearing his Garden uniform this time which was mildly annoying. He spent enough time in it during the day without having to wear it in his frickin' dreams, surely.
Whatever.
Maybe now that he was 14, he could actually start to control some aspects of these lucid dreams? He closed his eyes and willed himself into something simple, jeans, a white T-shirt but when he opened his eyes again, he was still looking down at the crisp blue of his uniform.
Didn't matter what anyone said about having the time of their lives in lucid dreams, Squall was calling bullshit for the rest of his life.
He cringed at the thought of meeting Zidane with his uniform on but knew he had no choice if he wanted the dream to dissipate so he moved with precise smoothness over the planks of the wood, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open before he could think to curb his reaction to the blonde's inevitable appearance.
Zidane's hair was cut almost criminally short so it fell in uneven clumps over his face in way that made him look half mad. His eyes were harder than Squall remembered and brighter, almost ultramarine when he shifted beneath the shadow of a tree to make his way across the bridge towards Squall. He was wearing a dark red vest, a loose fitting pair of trousers adorned with many pockets, about 3 different belts and he had a pair of daggers strapped to his legs like he was some sort of hot shot. His tail bobbed shyly by his shoulder, not nearly as noticeable as Squall remembered and, as his eyes caught on it, he could see the wedges of disturbed fur sticking out of it, almost like Zidane had mange or something.
"Well," Zidane said, his eyes raking Squall's slim frame in an obvious show of scrutinising him. "Don't you scrub up well."
"What happened?" Squall demanded by the way of a response, his eyes blazing fury as the blonde scowled at him, taking a marked step away from his companion and turning towards the water, his posture stiff and straight and not like the carefree boy Squall had come to know through these weird dreams at all.
The monkey-boy shrugged like he was trying to shrug this whole topic off but his eyes remained troubled as he glared at the water, so hard that it almost looked like they'd been replaced with something fake, glass.
"You wanna know? I got caught thievin' coz some guy's ass is more sensitive than I figured it would be."
Squall felt a rush of something that might have been a bizarre cocktail of horror and outrage on the blonde's behalf. Okay yes, stealing was wrong, but what sort of justice system…
"So they cut your hair?" Squall asked, his mind automatically searching the index of his mind to find information on the sort of place that would punish thievery with a haircut and possible tail abuse. Of course, there was no such place. Zidane was a made up figment of his imagination, a way for him to figure stuff out about his life and grow if the psychology books were to be believed.
The blonde snorted, snarling at the water in front of him and leaning on the railing of the bridge.
"Yeah, for starters they cut my hair. It's compensation for what I don't got to give them in Gil. They sell my hair to the wig maker's to make a profit which means some rich as fuck noble is wandering around right now wearing my hair."
When he put it like that, it was actually quite a disturbing thought.
"What do you mean they cut your hair for starters?" Squall asked shrewdly, feeling an inkling of dread in his stomach, a feeling that became ever more prominent when the blonde waved a hand in front of his face instead, turning those glassy eyes on his companion.
"Nevermind that, I actually came to tell you that I'm leaving Tantalus. Remember what you said years ago about how everyone wants a home? Well, I think you're right so I'm going off to find out where I came from. I'm old enough now to go out into the world and Boss even gave me these awesome daggers so I can fight off monsters I come across. Neat huh?"
Squall let himself absorb all of this spieled information, staring at the blonde and trying to read the uncomfortable expression adorning Zidane's features.
He hadn't exactly been the best at reading emotional situations since he decided to shut himself off from those around him to preserve what was left of his sanity so reading the subtler implications of a half hidden expression on a usually open face was hard for Squall.
He frowned.
"Do you have anything to actually go on? Any intel?" he asked, trying to apply what he'd learnt in school to the current situation.
The question, interestingly, had Zidane giving him a highly guarded, defensive look.
"Yeah I do. I remember a blue light," he said and Squall gave Zidane a prompting look, expecting the younger boy to elaborate.
"That's it," the blonde said after a while, staring daringly at Squall - like he was squaring himself up for a fight about this whole ridiculous trip of his.
"A blue light," Squall repeated dubiously.
"Yup."
"Nothing else?"
"Nope."
"You know you're going to fail right?"
Zidane exploded.
Squall had been expecting it, thought he'd prepared himself for it but the little brat was quick. Before Squall could gather his thoughts to implement SeeD combat training, Zidane had tackled him around the waist, throwing him to the ground with surprising strength and pinning him by sitting on his thighs. His fists flew up beside him, his hands still quite small and, with a shocked expression plastered on his own face, Squall dodged the clumsy punches that came at him, hearing the splintering of wood beside his head once, then twice, then three times.
On the third punch, Zidane's fist stayed glued to the wood of the bridge and the expression on his face crumpled.
Squall wanted to say something, anything to him, the first thing coming to mind being 'get the hell off me' but instead he just watched in frightened shock as Zidane simply lowered himself down on the older boy's chest, burying his face in his shirt, his small frame shaking as he started to cry.
"I won't…f-fail…I won't…" Zidane managed between half muffled sobs.
Squall considered prying him slowly off, judo flipping him into the river or simply waiting until Zidane had cried himself out. Instead, his hands seemed to rise like they had a mind of their own, in slow, jerking movements like a car failing to turn over until his hands were resting lightly on the blonde's narrow back.
Zidane stiffened and a moment later, as Squall felt at the obvious lines of raised flesh beneath the shirt, he too tensed.
"Zida-
Squall didn't get to finish that sentence because the next thing he knew, the blonde's tail had wrapped securely around his wrist and was throwing one his hands off. The movement was so violent that Squall woke with a start in his bed in Garden hyperventilating madly, sweat beading on his forehead.
He took in a few deep breaths before struggling with the duvet, launching himself out of his bed to throw on the bedroom light and stare at his hands.
Fine.
His hands were fine.
He stood for a while feeling the last of the nightmare leave him, reassuring himself every so often that his hands were fine before sinking down against his bedroom door.
What the fuck was that?
What was it that he was dreaming about anyway? What was it about his hands?
Perfect lines of raised flesh beneath a thin dark red vest…
Dark red…
He stared at the pristine ivory of his hands again and shuddered when he realised that he'd been searching for blood.
Zidane's hair had grown back in by the time Squall saw him again. He was taller though admittedly not much and sported a blue attire now, a dark, high collared waist coat, a white vest, at least two belts, blue trousers, steel-capped boots and a pair of gloves to save his hands from dagger-handle calluses. He was still slim, his body so small and light that it must have been easy for him to pull off his thievery now, if he was even still doing that…Squall really hoped not considering what had happened the last time he'd been caught…
As Squall drew closer, he realised that the forest on Zidane's side of the river was more vibrant than usual. The plant life was particularly virulent and there were wild flowers blooming in almost regimental lines along the bank. Butterflies drifted lazily from flower to flower and the sky overhead was the most perfect high summer blue.
"Hey!" the blonde monkey-boy called out waving frantically and jumping up and down.
Squall lifted a hand and nodded in greeting, his brow twitching when Zidane ran over the last few feet between them to throw himself into a hug that the mercenary just could not avoid. He blushed profusely as Zidane's slim arms encircled him, bristling at the contact and mentally willed the boy to get off.
"I missed you!" Zidane shouted like he was still across the bridge and Squall would barely be able to hear him. At a loss for what to say that wasn't just 'get off of me now', Squall reached round, utilising what little mobility was available to him, to pat Zidane on the back.
When Zidane released him, he beamed at Squall, the most heartfelt, happy expression that Squall had ever seen and honestly, he was totally dumbstruck. Was this kid on drugs?
His expression flickered a bit when he took in Squall's appearance, his hand reaching up automatically towards Squall's face in a way that made Squall realise he already knew what was coming. They hadn't seen each other in years after all.
"Where did you get that from?" the blonde asked, tracing the line of Squall's facial scar through the air.
"M. Long story," Squall told him dismissively, raising an eyebrow as a blue bird landed on one of the lush trees over on Zidane's side of the river, bursting into song.
"How's it going?" Squall asked cautiously, afraid of what exactly could put Zidane in such a silly, overly ecstatic mood.
"Hm. I'm good, like really good," Zidane told him, his ridiculous grin back in place. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet and twitching like he needed to go for a good run or something.
Probably drugs.
"So I can see," Squall said, raising a perfect 'WTF' eyebrow and leaning against the bridge railing. "Wanna tell me about it?"
"M. Long story," Zidane repeated in a overdramatic display of stoniness, his expression slowly turning cheeky. "What'll you give me for the info? That kickass necklace maybe? Or your ring?"
Squall wasn't sure if the blonde really expected him to merit that with a response, staring at Zidane in a mildly warning way until the thief threw his hands up in the air, a blatant show of surrender.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he laughed, turning away from Squall to look out over the bridge, a gentle summer breeze wafting over from his summery side of the river to tug at the looser strands of his blonde hair and Squall was a little perplexed to realise that even though he only saw Zidane every now and then, he looked at no-one else the way he looked at this boy.
Perhaps it was because his appearance changed so dramatically each time they met each other, perhaps it was because Squall felt like he was free to look in the dream without having to turn away out of fear of creating a bond and thus a weakness for himself, but it honestly just occurred to him that he had never noticed facial features they way he saw them on Zidane, didn't really care to bother telling one face from another unless it was beneficial to a potential mission.
What did that make him?
"I met someone," Zidane sighed out, the words carrying over the breeze and hitting Squall square in the chest.
"She's literally the greatest girl, smart, pretty, has this total daredevil streak and isn't afraid to throw herself out of her comfort zone socially y'know?"
Squall was staring at him, feeling his mouth go dry, his heart thudding against his rib cage.
Is that what the summer in Zidane's wood was?
Love…
"I might actually ask this girl to marry me Squall," the blonde said, his eyes dancing as he turned to face his staggered companion.
Squall had made SeeD just that afternoon, was now a genuine soldier of Garden and a professional mercenary for hire. He knew how to hide his reactions to difficult situations until he was ready to deal with them. Still, he had trouble arranging his facial features into something nonplussed when he was finding it difficult to swallow, when each rise and fall of his chest sent a burning sensation through his throat.
What would it mean for these dreams if you got married?
"Marriage?" Squall asked, judgement evident in his tone. "Bit early for that isn't it? What're you, like 16?"
The tone was not lost on Zidane, his smile faltering slightly and Squall took a vindictive pleasure in it.
Zidane was his hallucination after all.
"Hey yeah…but it's not like it really matters if I love the girl right? I don't think I could do any better than the princess of Alexandria."
The title meant nothing to Squall.
The declaration of love meant nothing to Squall.
He sneered at the monkey-boy.
"Love her? How long have you known her? I haven't seen you in 3 years so it couldn't have been that long."
Zidane's expression faltered again, dropping into something more defensive.
"Well, I've only really known her for like a month or two but-
"A month? A month and you're declaring intentions to marry?" Squall asked, completely disbelieving of how utterly naïve his companion was.
Zidane's expression was practically stoic now, the inklings of anger Squall had seen flickering like a flame beneath the blonde's blue eyes disappearing beneath an overlying wave of sorrow that Squall felt instantly guilty for.
"…Can't you just be happy for me?" the monkey boy asked quietly. "I didn't…I didn't find the blue light I was looking for…but I did find someone that I could potentially make a home with."
Squall stared at the sorrowful, pitiful expression on the face of his comrade and felt a manifestation of indescribable rage, rage that made him feel for more powerful and in control than the guilt was making him feel so he latched on to it, held tightly to it. For his sanity's sake.
"No Zidane, you know what? I can't just be happy for you. Why? Because you're mine. This is my dream, you're my friend, maybe my only friend. You can't just leave me here to rot while you go off and have an imaginary wedding in whatever imaginary world you hail from. You can't just fuck off and be totally content and happy without me."
Zidane's expression was one of total and utter shock.
So for the first time since he'd started having the dreams, Squall succeeded in taking control, waking himself up with a start so that he could stare at the ceiling and feel a tumult of petty, totally real emotions swirling within him without any idea why he felt so wretched.
It was night.
Squall was instantly unnerved, reaching overhead for the hilt of his gunblade that wasn't attached to his day clothes.
He pulled his hands back in towards the front of his torso, staring at the empty gloves like he'd be able to make the sword manifest through wishful thinking. When nothing happened, he lifted his chin up and stared towards the river.
The river that was dry.
He walked forward, tripping over the roots of the trees in the darkness until he came out along the bank and the light of the moon encompassed the world in something cold, dead.
For a good few minutes, he stared at the trench that had been home to the endless current of water, his mind latching on to the feeling of unease threatening to burn a hole through his stomach, registering it as the first stages of panic.
His head twitched up in the direction of the bridge.
And he had to fight not to choke out a sob which surprised and shamed him all at once.
He shuffled towards it, his movements slow, weighed down by the horrible changes in the place he had come to rely on as much as that house next to the beach which had been his home before all of that shit with the GFs was revealed. He edged his way over the wreck, careful not to tread on the larger bits of splintered wood until he was standing on the edge of a huge hole jutting through the middle of the bridge separating his side, his woods from Zidane's side, Zidane's woods.
The blonde was standing on his own side of the decimated bridge, his posture dejected, his face obscured by blonde bangs.
"What happened?" Squall whispered, wishing there was a way to close the gap between them so that he could grasp on to the monkey boy and make sure he was real somehow, even if he wasn't actually.
He wasn't ready for this.
Dreams, he knew now, were full of symbols and the fact that the river was dry, the bridge was broken…did it mean this was the last time he would see the blonde monkey-boy?
When Zidane let out a choked laugh, throwing up an arm to wipe roughly at his eyes, Squall's heart ached so much that he thought he might just defy the unwritten law of this dream and jump ship to Zidane's side so he could comfort this person that had become his friend, more than that…
"I know now…"he began, his voice younger than it had been in years, full of more emotion than Squall ever hoped to process from another human being in this life time. "I know what this is, this dream and…and I'm sorry Squall."
Squall blinked at him feeling the impact of those words run into the very foundation of his frame.
What?
"I f-found out what I am f-from G-Garland and…and I'm just…I'm just a construct made to be an Angel of Death Squall! I'm not human, not even a little bit, just this thing made by this madman who wanted to kill a planet full of people!"
His voice, slowly rising in volume, was swallowed as his small frame was wracked by nearly uncontrollable sobs. His tail was down by his feet, partially coiled on the floor, unmoving, almost like it had lost its lustre for life and given up.
Squall watched him cry and had never felt so helpless in all his life.
"A-and this d-dream? It's just a by-product of a failed fusion b-between planets. I have this t-telepathic thing going on with th-the other two constructs and somehow I f-found you in the memory of the dead planet when I was in trouble as a l-little boy and I st-stole your memory to keep me company and that's…that's what this is."
Squall felt himself stop, just stop.
His body seized, he stopped breathing and even his heart seemed to pack it in, the rhythmic thudding disappearing entirely as Zidane's words sank in.
Not real…this wasn't real…he wasn't real…
All this time…years of his life…he'd thought that he was the one dreaming up a friend for himself to stave off loneliness as he fought to shut out the people that might come to matter to him…
But it turned out he was the product of someone else's imagination.
"I'm so sorry Squall!" Zidane howled, sinking down to his knees and falling completely to pieces. For a long time, nothing changed between the pair. Squall failed to move and Zidane simply cried until he could do no more, curling up on the edge of the shattered bridge and watching Squall's vacant eyes as he came to grips with what he was.
Eventually, Squall came back from whatever desolate place he'd been thrust into and, seeing Zidane laying down on the bridge in the dark, he sunk down into a cross-legged position, their eyes meeting and conveying a thousand things that could never be said.
"Maybe I could just…go on dreaming forever…" the blonde finally said, his eyes shining feverishly as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Yeah, I'll just go on dreaming with you forever and that way, you don't have to be just a memory. We can live my lifetime together right here!"
Squall felt a lurch of hope inside him at that ludicrous suggestion but squashed it immediately.
It just wasn't an option.
"Zidane, don't you have your girl to go back to? Or did you blow it already with your big mouth?"
Zidane looked as though Squall had just kicked him in the teeth and though Squall felt like the world's biggest asshole, he knew that this was right.
It was time.
Even if he wasn't ready.
"…Squall, you don't understand, I love you…maybe not like I love Dagger but…you're…you're a part of my life, I can't just…abandon you because I know what you are now."
But Squall shook his head.
"The bridge is broken," he said simply.
"Screw the bridge! I'll walk over the dried bed of the lake!" Zidane assured him, half throwing himself over the edge of the bridge already to prove how serious he was.
This time, when Squall shook his head, he smiled a small, sad smile, his resolve crumbling like an ancient stone wall.
He had to do what was right, what was best for Zidane…
"It won't work. The lake was…the life of the dream…and it's dry now so this is the last time."
He only realised it was true as he said it, that he'd known for years what this all represented. The lake was the life of the dream with no determinable beginning or no end. His forest was where he came from, the weather changing dependent on his mood and at what stage of his life Zidane had extracted him from. The bridge was the connection between them and it was gone now.
"No, no, I don't want that!" Zidane cried out, frantic with the force of his denial. "I wish I'd never tried to figure out what I am. If I hadn't met Garland then I wouldn't have worked out what you are and everything could just stay as it is!"
Squall could feel it now, how he was fading. It was a light tugging sensation on the edge of his mind that was barely noticeable and he realised that though this would be the last time for them, once he was back in his own bed, once he'd 'woken up', he wouldn't remember having met Zidane at all so all this hurt would disappear…right?
It's best for Zidane.
"I have to go now Zidane," Squall told him gently, wishing simultaneously for more time and for this to be over with so he didn't have to see that look of utter desolation on the blonde monkey-boy's face…
So he wouldn't have to feel the agony of stabbing guilt…
He had seconds at most so with everything he had left, he tried to put into words all the important things that needed to be said between them.
"You're my best friend, you'll always be my best friend. No, more than that…and even if I am just a memory…even if I forget you and you me…we'll always be connected."
The night was beginning to turn into the early stages of morning, the first signs of dawn shifting over the horizon as Zidane threw himself at the remaining railing on the bridge, wrapping his tail around the wood and reaching out with outstretched fingers as hard as he could. Knowing that all Zidane wanted now was to know that he'd been real in some sense, Squall gripped his own barely intact railing and eased himself over the edge of the dried up river bed.
He reached forward as far as he could…
…their fingertips brushed…
And Squall woke up in his own bed, a half choked sob falling from his parted lips, his pillow stained with a veritable cascade of salty tears.
He sat up in the darkness, looked out of the window and felt the most profound sense of loss he had ever experienced though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. The dream, no matter how hard he tried to think of it, was lost and he got up in the early hours muttering about GF's and how they cost more than they were worth.
At 5am, Squall was at Garden's bridge standing alongside Xu with a mug of hot coffee in one hand wondering why he felt so utterly, awfully depressed. Xu, used to seeing his commander during work hours only didn't say a single word. It was tough being the guy that everyone went to and even if Squall was a veritable rock emotionally speaking, it just made sense if it all got to him a little bit once in a while.
It made him human after all.
When Squall came to, he was instantly aggravated to find himself laying in a puddle of water alongside several other people that were obviously just as insane as he was for falling asleep in such a place. He wondered vaguely if he'd overworked himself and collapsed somewhere inappropriate. Had Zell or Selphie dragged him out of a war zone to the first safe place they could find? A ruined white space half drowned in water?
He made a mental note to tell them off and dock their SeeD pay packet as he sat up stiffly and looked around at his companions, each of them forcing themselves upright and rubbing their soggy heads or starting stunted conversations about what had happened to them. They, like Squall, weren't entirely sure, it seemed, how they got here which was worrying though the general consensus seemed to be that it had something to do with a pretty blonde woman named Cosmos.
Squall was about to ask the closest sensible looking warrior to give him a military style breakdown of the appropriate information when he was tackled back into the water by a blonde/blue blur.
"What the…" he sputtered indignantly, pushing at his unwanted attachment and staring at the top of a short boy's head as it rested against his chest.
"Squall! Shit, God, I never thought I'd see you again…"
Squall stiffened in the embrace, staring down at the blonde head and the slim, pale arms wrapped around his waist with an expression of horrified shock on his face. When the boy lifted his head to stare at Squall with nothing short of complete adoration swimming beneath the unique blue of his eyes, Squall felt himself shudder involuntarily and though he stared at the boy for a good 10 minutes, he honestly could not dredge up a memory.
When the tail coiled round to weave by the boy's left shoulder, Squall just outright cringed.
That he would remember at the very least. He had absolutely no idea who this kid was.
"I'm sorry kid…but I think you've got the wrong Squall…" Squall commented in an unsure voice, feeling a tug of something when the colour of the boy's eyes changed with a new pulse of resolve.
"You don't remember but that's fine because you know what? You said that even if you didn't remember me we'd always be connected."
Letting out a quick breath, he hopped up on light feet and held out a hand for Squall to grab. The mercenary hesitated for a moment before grasping the offered hand and letting the boy pull him into a standing position in the water, ignoring the totally flabbergasted expressions of the other warriors as they stared at the pair of them.
He had eyes only for the blonde monkey-boy bouncing on the balls of his feet who could offer an explanation for this madness.
"I'm Zidane," the blonde said by the way of an introduction, "and let me start by asking a question."
He paused, his blue eyes sparking with barely suppressed excitement as he gazed at Squall and Squall felt a twinge of something deep down inside that he might have identified as recognition if he was the indulgent type.
"What do you know about lucid dreaming?"
I had a lucid dream once - I was being chased by some pyschopath and I thought 'I don't like this any more, I'm going to wake up,' so I did and it felt awful coz I'm pretty sure I was right in the middle of like an REM session or something. I had one more lucid dream after that one but when I tried to wake myself up, I woke up in a bed that wasn't mine with a person sitting next to me that had no face.
Dreams are tricky my friend.