Author's Note: So, this is like a little sneak peak at the sequel to my fic, Queen of All Time, which I will at some point get around to writing
Waking
There are days when he wakes and remembers nothing.
The bed he lays in feels cold and strange. Against the wall, there are books that he has never read, and a tiny model that he cannot remember building. He sits up slowly, bringing a hand to touch one temple; his head hurts, a dull aching that starts just behind his eyes and seems to pulse into the core of his brain. The light coming in through the window causes him to squint as he tries to get his bearings.
His hand feels foreign against his skin. His skin feels alien to his hands, the contours of his face are new and untraveled. Slowly, he drags his narrowed gaze up the far wall of the small, square room. There is a uniform jacket – black fabric with gold inlay at the shoulders – hanging on the wall. It is perfectly pressed and each button shines as though polished. There is nothing else in the room that he can see; everything else seems to have been tucked away, leaving the place nearly empty.
He cannot remember his name. He opens his mouth to speak, and finds himself mute. He cannot remember the words. His eyes widen, the pain momentarily forgotten in the cold panic that grips him.
He cannot remember.
His vision swims, suddenly blurry. He closes his eyes and there is a dampness on his face that he cannot name. Something in the back of his mind rumbles like a waking beast. He feels it there, coiled around his brain stem, purring. It opens its mouth wide, and swallows him whole from the inside.
There are days when he wakes, and remembers everything.
Squall jerks up into a sitting position, sweating and breathing hard. His hands are twisted in the sheets, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Stars tumble in and out of existence in his memory, time looping over and over and over again.
He remembers Ultimecia's hands clutching Matron's dress, the Sorceress's eyes wide as she transferred her power to the other woman. He remembers looking up at the bloody man in black as a child, remembers looking down at the crying boy in yellow as an adult. He remembers stumbling back through the doorway, remembers the green eyed orphan clutching the old book. He remembers free falling through space. He remembers wandering across an endless wasteland for a hundred years without ever aging.
He remembers Rinoa.
He sees her smiling on the train, laughing in the Garden. He remembers holding her on the Ragnarok, remembers Seifer pushing her into Adele. Squall feels her weight on his back as he carries her across the ocean to Esthar. He hears her asking him to be her knight; he remembers his promises to keep her safe. He remembers kissing her under starlight.
Squall remembers her leaving.
He screams. He screams until he drowns out the sound of her voice in his ears and whispering across his skin, until the emptiness of the room is forgotten. The monster in his mind stirs, growling. She uncoils, all hard scales and muscle, teeth bared at the rude awakening. He feels her wings unfurl, and suddenly he is choking on power, on heat. She opens her mouth, and swallows him whole from the inside.
Squall wakes up, but his eyes are already open. His throat is raw. He doesn't remember why. Shaking his head, he pulls himself from the bed and stands. He has a headache, but his symptoms have become so common that he doesn't even bother to question them anymore.
It doesn't matter. He has a Garden to run. The new SeeD exams are today. He has a team returning from Dorter in the afternoon who will need to be debriefed en route to the infirmary. There are supplies to be picked up and signed for, and the never-ending funding crisis to deal with. Squall doesn't have time for pain. He has to be strong. He has to be their Commander.
He pulls the uniform off the wall. In the back of his mind, Tiamat purrs in her sleep.