Gem: I was attempting to clean my room when this little thought came to me. Warnings: slightly OC Squall, general weirdness from Laguna, and peeing babies. I leave it up to you to decide who Squall's wife is. That said, on with the fic!
Somehow, I realized that I was different. I had become cold to avoid feeling what I felt when Sis left. But my friends had been determined to break that. I guess I didn't start calling them my friends until I nearly lost them. Not so long after that, thanks to a certain cowboy, I remembered that I had grown up with all of them. Only the cowboy (as everyone affectionately referred to him as) had remembered. We had been faced with a hard choice then; we didn't want to kill the only mother we had known. We were afraid even though we had been trained to kill. Along the way, I glimpsed the man that Sis eventually told me was my father. I was one of the lucky ones who had a loving parent. I didn't open up right away to this man because I thought for sure he was an idiot. He was also a trained killer but he didn't let that get him down. He took what life threw at him and then threw it right back in life's face. When I officially made him a grandfather, he took it in stride and even helped change diapers. I may be vindictive but I admit that it was extremely funny to watch him get sprayed in the face multiple times by my son's pee. I was trying not to laugh at the scene but he turned around and gave me a grin through his now sopping wet face.
"Why couldn't you two have had a daughter?" he asked.
I shrugged and then gave him a hand with changing my son. I had a father who was willing to love his family even if it took him seventeen years to find out about them. He was even willing to give my wife and I a break from our son and to get to know his grandson better. He still needed to work on announcing when he was coming though; I think it runs in the family. I've certainly scared my wife and the rest of our friends just by walking up behind them.
Now years later, he's a great-grandfather and I have a grandson of my own. That must be another thing that runs in the family; having children at a young age. But I'm sitting here with my wife beside me and my father is across the room making funny noises at his great-grandson. My own son is nowhere to be found but I suspect he is with his wife.
I may have been different in the fact that I had a father. But now, the ice that had formed had been fully melted and I was content in the fact that my father was having a bit too much fun making funny noises for his great-grandson. After all, I had taken what life had thrown at me and threw it right back into life's face; I wouldn't have it any other way.