BROKEN WINGS
A FFVIII Fan Fiction
Prologue

"Message from Dr. Odine, twenty-four hundred hours, March twenty-nineth. Subject, Lunatic Pandora. Recipient, Laguna Loire, President, Esthar.

"Good evening, Laguna. I told you I hav newz about ze Lunatic Pandora. Please listen carefully so zat I won't hav to explain zis to you again. It iz very simple if you pay attention, but if I know you, you vill take zis and run vith it. Nosing major has happened, however, I vant you to be avare of somesing zat transpired just zis evening.

"In all my years of research, I have never encountered a more puzzling or more frustrating find zan ze Lunatic Pandora. It has become such a burden, yet I can't help but obzess about vat powers it holds, and vat it's true secret might be. I lose sleep at night, pondering ze complexity of ze structure, ze immense power vithin it's valls and vat ze possible make up of ze structure might be. It's very existence is my bane, my curse. And now, I am further perplexed by ze event zat occurred at sunset on zis same day as ze full moon presented itself above ze horizon.

"Ze Pandora has been sealed since zose events two years ago, zose vich caused ze Lunar Cry and sent six young SeeDs into time compression to defeat a future sorceress. As you know, Laguna, I have tried, in vain, to enter ze confounded thing for ze last two years so zat I might further continue my study. I have used every means available to me, and I've failed to succeed.

"But, just zis evening, ze Pandora came to life. I don't mean zat it moved. I have been unable to move it since it vas returned to me two years ago. I mean, it began to . . . glow. Ze thing began to pulse vith light, to shudder vith electrical energy before my eyes! In all my years of study, it iz ze first time I've seen it do such a thing. It iz clear to me zat something important iz taking place inside, zough I am unsure of vat zat might be.

"It matters not. Vatever might be afoot, I am certain it vill make for good scientific study. I vill need you to send me money so that I might continue my research. You hav been very stingy vith your money zis year, Laguna, and you and I vill hav to fisticuffs if my demands are not met.

"I vill attempt to enter ze Lunatic Pandora in ze morning. I vill update you if I make any progress."


Chapter 1
Leaving You

I never thought we'd come to this. A relationship two years in the making has crumbled before my eyes in just a few
short months. We've been busy, sure. Everyone at Garden has. So why is Squall the only one who can't be bothered
with simple conversation? Why is it still so hard for him to say what's on his mind? That's what makes us able to tolerate the
constant work and tension we face every day. I can't bear to live without hearing the sound of another soul's voice comment on the weather, or the latest political drama or anything at all. I'd go crazy from the boredom, or silence, or both. It doesn't matter so much what you talk about, its the spending time with one another that is important. Being with others affirms you. It helps you know you're not alone. But Squall, he'd rather bury himself in stacks of paperwork behind his huge mahogany desk than spend time with the people he'd risked his life for, never realizing that they'd risk their lives for him in a heartbeat, should events require such action.

Squall thinks I'm being a whiny, demanding brat for trying to draw him out of this isolated prison he's created for himself. He doesn't see that he's worse now than the was when we first met. Back then, he had a reason to keep his distance. These last few months, however, it's not fear that he keeps away from us, it's something else. If he'd say to me he needed space, then I'd understand, but he hasn't said anything of the sort. I even asked on one occasion if he needed me to lay off for a while, and his answer was no. So, I don't understand this wall he's built around himself again. After I broke it down, he somehow managed to put it back up once more, and this time, there's no reason for it. I don't understand being shut out in favor of expense reports and accounting ledgers. He could give some of the work to Quistis, or even me, but he won't. And I'm growing tired of being the last person on his list of people to please. I'd gladly take second place, but not last.

On this chilly March evening, I am struck by how alone I am in his presence. He sits before me at a table, eating a meal I carefully prepared for this occasion, with the hope that he'd relax for once, but still he speaks not a word. He just sits there and eats the plate of seafood and pasta I made with my own hands, without murmuring a single word of appreciation for my hard work. The only sound I can hear is my own heartbeat and his fork as it scrapes against the china as he scoops up one unenthusiastic bite after another. I am all alone here in this office, where the desk sits full of paperwork and the computer screen emits an annoying bluish light, which subsequently ruins the effect of the soft light emanating from the various candles I've placed around the room. I know as soon as I leave here tonight, he'll go back to that desk and to his work without a thought about how much it hurts me to sit here before him, feeling quite alone, even though we're in the same room.

It's not that we fight. We don't. Well, not often anyway, and even when we do it's never that bad. We make up almost immediately, and things go back to normal. Except that we haven't had a discussion or a difference of opinion about anything in three months. We hardly talk, and when we do, I talk about silly things, anything, just so I don't have to feel alone while I'm with him. Sometimes he will smile at something I've said, but it's always an off-hand smile, as if he were distracted by something more important, and his eyes remain distant, almost as if I'm not really there. I wonder half the time if he even realizes I'm in
the same room with him.

"Squall?" I finally say as I put my fork down. My voice seems terribly loud in the quiet of the room.

He doesn't look up from the notes he reads as he shovels food into his mouth and says, "Hmm?"

"I'm going to Dollet for the weekend, for the Peacekeeper's conference. It'd be great if you would come along and keep me company." I begin, with the hope that he might pick up on my suggestive tone.

"Gotta work," he mumbles.

Always work. Work is the reason we've never ventured into the land of carnal candy. He's too busy and I'm too
embarrassed to jump him. What's a girl to do?

"Can't you get away from it for a while?"

"Rinoa, it's important." Hyne, he's speaking to his plate! Why can't he even look me in the eye when he talks to me? Am I invisible or something?

"What's so important you can't make time for me?" I ask in a soft voice. I'm hurt that he'd choose paperwork over a chance to finally make love. I'm starting to wonder if I'm so terribly unattractive that he'd sooner be thrown into a pit of vipers than sleep with me. That must be it, for I've tried everything except jumping his bones, and I somehow doubt that would even get his attention.

He shrugs and continues to eat. So, I'm going to be alone again this weekend. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up
anyway. It's not like I really expected him to agree, anyway. Squall Leonhart is going to die a virgin; it's a fact I might as well face.

Squall has never said he loved me. I have never heard his voice say those three delightful words that I've been waiting so long to hear. I have said them to him, many times, but he never said it back. His face would crinkle up a little when I said it, as if his stomach hurt and he'd change the subject. Finally, I quit saying it.

I sit back in my chair and watch him, wondering what might be going on inside his head. He's a little tense, yes, but everyone at Garden is, myself included. Lately, Galbadia has been up to their old tricks and we're so busy, we hardly have any more SeeD's to deploy. Still, shouldn't we be making time away from all that? Who can live with continuous battle and frustration over world affairs? Not that Squall has been in the field lately. He's been too busy filling out forms, overseeing budget allotments, approving weapons acquisitions. It never ends. I don't even think he's been to the training center in a couple of months. Hell, I don't even think he's been outside in a while, for that matter.

His face shows no indication that he even cares I'm here. "What's wrong with you?" I ask, resorting to a pout.

"Nothing's wrong with me."

"So tell me what's on your mind, then." I urge, hoping he'll at acknowledge my presence in the room. He shrugs again, and I can't help but be angry. "Squall, why does it always have to be like this with you? Why can't you even have a conversation with me?"

He throws down his fork. "Because I'm not like you, Rinoa. No matter how hard you try, I'll never be like you."

I can't take this. I feel like I'm running in circles. This night should have been romantic. A delicious, full moon hung
in the sky, an endless blanket of stars above the skylight overhead. I lit candles, turned down the lights, put on soft music. I cooked for Hyne's sake! What part of my seduction isn't he picking up on? He's either blind or stupid not to see what I'm trying to do here.

At the moment, I'm betting on stupid.

I give him a seething look and leave the table, my food hardly touched. As always, when I'm troubled, I go to the window
with it's view of the quad below. This is one of the nicer perks of having regular access to the commander's office, this
window. Lately, it seems every time I come to see him, I end up here. Tonight, though, the bitter tears finally find their
way down my cheeks as I make an painful, but necessary decision.

I'm going to leave him. I want a family, a life, a home outside of Garden, and I realize, the way things are now, that will never happen if I stay with Squall Leonhart. So, why don't I just say it?

I muster up my courage to say what has to be said. "I'm tired," I blurt out to the window, wondering where these words have come from. This was not what I intended to say.

"So go to bed," he says dully. I hear him push away from the table, but I don't look back. I know where he's going.
The desk awaits him. How I hate that fucking desk. If I could, I'd burn the hateful thing until it was nothing more than a
pile of smoldering ashes.

Normally, girls are jealous of other girls. I'm the only one I know who's jealous of a desk. It's obvious to me, however,
who his mistress is, and it's not me.

There was a time when a moment like this called for a serious outpouring of emotion on my part, complete with tears and
dramatic gestures. There doesn't seem to be much use for that anymore. Not with Squall anyway. He wouldn't hear anything I had to say. He'd say he had work to do and throw in a whatever somewhere along the way, and I would feel no better than before.

So, I guess it's time to end it. It's not what I want, but it's something that needs to be done, to save us both the trouble later. If he doesn't appreciate or want me, then I need to move on. I deserve more than silence and loneliness.

This hurts.

"I meant I was tired of us," I say as I stare out at the moon. "I'm tired of trying to guess what's going on inside your head. I can't read minds, and I'm not going to try to read yours." I am startled by the sound of my voice, at the coldness I hear in my words. I sound so unlike myself, it's as if someone else is speaking in my stead. I find this curious, then chalk it up to my need to speak plainly.

"What are you saying?" Squall asks and I hear the alarm in his voice. My words have had an effect on him, amazing though it may seem.

"I don't want to do this anymore," I say.

What am I doing? Am I really breaking up with him? Is this what I really want?

"Why can't you understand how hard things are for me? There's so much I want to say to you, but I can't get the words
out," Squall cries, "I want to be like you and everyone else who can speak freely, but I can't."

I laugh bitterly. I've heard this speech so many times before that I've grown sick of it.. "You're telling me, you can defeat countless monsters, and even a couple of evil sorceresses, but you can't manage to put a sentence together? There's actually something in this world that the all powerful Squall Leonhart can't conquer? We defeated Omega, for Hyne's sake!"

"Damn it Rinoa!" He growls, and he slams his fist against the wall. So we're back to this? I love him, but I've grown tired of
his tortured inner workings. It would be so simple if heed just let go of that crazy phobia of his . . . the one about trusting
people. Maybe it's not because he's afraid of losing, but because he's merely selfish on the inside.

Not so long ago, he had opened up to me. It was just after our return from time compression, and he'd bared his soul to me, told me things he would never have dared say before, or to anyone else. He'd been so sweet, so caring then, and I'd felt adored and safe. Where was the Squall who didn't think twice about smiling at me when I got excited? Where was the Squall who'd confessed to dreams of one day having a family and a home by the ocean?

"It's over between us," I whisper. "I can't wait around for you to figure out your demons anymore. It's killing me."

I can see his reflection in the window before me. A trick of light has superimposed his image over the face of the luscious
moon. His face is pale and stunned, his body tense and motionless. Have I had any affect on him? I can't tell.

Reflections are funny things. At this moment, I could swear the face of the moon pulses with radiant, iridescent colors
around Squall's image, a whirling rainbow of light. For a fleeting second, it appears as though the moon itself has sprouted a pair of luminescent wings, black instead of white, and they spark and surge with an electrical current of some kind. I blink, and the image is gone. Must have been a trick of light, an optical illusion, for the moon is, and has always been a silvery blue in the night sky above us.

Without a second thought, I reach around behind my neck and unclasp the silver necklace that once belonged to my
mother. A piece of junk, really, but it's the only thing I have of hers, and since I was young, I've hung various treasures
from this chain. It once sported an orange plastic ring from a candy machine. Later, a seashell that my first boyfriend
gave me. And of course, Seifer's ring once hung from this chain too.

Presently, the ring of Griever hangs from the cheap silver chain. I slip it off and walk to the desk, certain of what I'm about to do, even if it's going to hurt like hell. With a soft toss, the ring arcs through the air, catching the reflection of the candle light. It lands in the center of the desk and spins for a few seconds. We both watch it, mesmerized by it's silver gleam. The sound it makes as it spins upon the polished wood is strange and mechanical. And then it stops.

My eyes fill with tears, as I feel something break loose inside me. Hyne, do I really have the strength to leave him? If I don't, I'll just end up feeling like this, again and again until I fall apart. I don't see any future in staying, for I'd just be lonely and unhappy if I did.

"Rinoa," he says softly as he approaches me. His eyes plead with me. "Don't do this."

"I have to," I say, holding back a river's worth of tears. "I just can't do this anymore."

"I'm sorry." His voice is a hoarse whisper in the dim room. I have to fight back the urge to run to him, cover his face with
kisses and beg his forgiveness. "I didn't mean to drive you away."

Hyne, This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I have to get out of here before I buckle like a capsized ship. The pressure of his wounded gaze will surely break me down, and then I'll be back where I started.

I hurry to the door, reach for the knob, and the tears spill down my cheeks, warm and salty. They burn my pale, tender skin
like acid. For a second, I can't make my hand turn the knob.

"Rinoa, I can't . . . I can't . . . live with out you." He sounds as broken as I feel. I want to look back at him, but I can't. I
don't want to see the way he looks now that I've broken his heart. I don't want him to see the way I look either, for my heart is as broken as his. Knowing that he feels this way isn't helping the situation at all.

Wait~

Isn't that enough? Isn't this what I've wanted to know all along?

Somehow, it doesn't make a difference to know how he feels, when in the end, work is always first and foremost in his life, with our relationship dead last on his list of priorities.

"You're going to have to," I reply coldly, though inside I'm screaming at myself to reconsider. Without another word, I
turn the knob and close the door behind me. The sound it makes as the latch catches sounds so final.

And now, there's no going back.




##########################

This is all my fault. I don't blame Rinoa for leaving me, hell, I'd leave myself if I had the chance. She's given me so much time, too much maybe, to sort myself out, but I still can't seem to say what I mean. There's so much I want to say to her, so many things I want to express, but I can't. I love her. I've loved her from the minute I saw her, even though she rubbed my nerves raw back then. I'd do anything I could to keep her in my life, but it seems I've screwed up, and this time, I don't think she'll forgive me. I never wanted her to leave me, I never wanted to drive her away, but it seems I have.

I wanted to tell her so badly that I love her as she was walking out the door. I don't know why it's so hard. The're just three little words, three words she'd readily given me, yet I can never seem to get them past my throat.

I'm such an idiot.

Still, I can't believe what just happened. Did she really say it was over? Sure, I'd expected her to be angry, but not angry enough to say that we're through. That's not how I feel at all! I still want to spend the rest of my life with her, have a family with her some day. Maybe not right away, but some day soon. I don't want to live with out her. I can't stand the thought of not hearing her voice chatter on as she sits in my office, while I'm occupied with some task Headmaster Cid has saddled me with. She keeps me sane, keeps me in touch with the world I'm missing below this office. I guess I never told her that, but she's my connection to the outside world, and I appreciated her visits and attempts to draw me away from my desk.

It's just that, there's so much responsibility that comes with being a commander. I didn't know that when I took the job, and it doesn't help that as each day goes by, Cid gives me a little more responsibility. By this, I mean, he gives me more work. Lately, it feels like I'm not only the commander, but the headmaster too.

Rinoa's words sink in, and I'm forced to lean against the edge of the desk to keep from falling to my knees. My stomach is in knots, my eyes fill with hot, angry tears. The ring of Griever sits before me, gleaming in the pale orange light of the candles. It looks so out of place here on the desk, especially when it should still hang around her neck. I'd given that ring to her as a promise that I'd be there for her, always.

But I messed that up, didn't I? I've neglected her for months, putting everything before her. All the paperwork and meetings, none of them mean anything to me, it's just something I do because it comes with the job. Why couldn't I just put it all aside and do what I really wanted to do? So many times, I've wanted to take her to dinner, or on a weekend trip, only to discover that there is some pressing issue that must be taken care of first. All I've really wanted to do was be with her. Instead, I put the job before her, and expected her to wait around until I had the time. It wasn't fair to her.

t wouldn't be all that hard to give some of the work to Quistis, who constantly nags me about taking too much upon myself. I could have done that, so why didn't I?

That little place inside me that used to harbor my rage suddenly grows to the size of Esthar. I can't take being alone again. I don't want to be alone ever again. All my life, I've been alone, mostly through my own doing, and here I've done it again. I've driven away the person I need most. How could I not pay attention to her? How could I expect that she'd put up with it?

I begin to pace the office, feeling trapped, my chest aching and these childish tears streaming down my face, all the while thinking of how bleak my future will be without her.

I need to break something.

The desk is my first target. I sweep it clear of all debris, including the T-Rexaur mug Laguna gave me the last time he visited. As it hits the floor, it shatters into a thousand pieces, shards of the cheap ceramic mug spill across the rug. A whirlwind of paper flies through the air, each sheet floating to the floor gracefully, as if they were not mere sheets of paper, but delicate white feathers. This makes me even more angry, for they remind me of her.

I'm bent on destruction as I vent my rage upon the office that has kept me away from her for so long. I want to stop, I want to break down and cry my eyes out like a child, but I can't. The fury inside is too powerful. I'm trapped in it's grip, unable to stop myself from taking my anger out on inanimate things. The anguish is too great, and I fear if I keep it all inside, I might do something even worse.

I pick up a chair and hurl it across the room with all my strength. It bounces off the furthest wall and lands with a heavy thud on the wooden floor. I pick up another and it goes in the same manner across the room. This one crashes into a hand crafted, stained glass portrait of Shiva. Multi-colored glass rains down in a waterfall like cascade to the floor, sounding somehow musical against the hard wood parquetry. The chair has become wedged in the lead outlines that remain of the portrait, it's legs sticking out like some kind of freakish monster with it's head caught in a net.

Senseless, I clear the remains of the delicious meal Rinoa made from the table. The silverware jangles as it hits the floor, the china breaks, the crystal glasses dissolve into nothing more than tiny shards.

I'm not happy with myself. This display of testosto-angst has gotten me nowhere. Now, not only do I have an empty life, but I've just destroyed my office in a few short minutes.

Great. It should be fun explaining to Cid why my office looks a little like Timber after the Galbadian invasion.

So now I've destroyed my office. What else can distract me from thinking about Rinoa? Music. Loud, mindless music. I turn on the stereo, which was a gift from Ellone on my last birthday, and push play. I'm only surprised for a moment when Seifer's voice angrily denounces SeeD and all it stands for. It's still in the player from months before, when we discussed what to do about Seifer's verbal attacks on us.

Whatever. I don't care what it is, so long as it's loud. All I need is something to drown out the noise inside my head.

Now exhausted, I have to sit down. My chair is the only thing left standing after my moments of insanity, so I'm forced to sit down behind the desk. It's the last place I want to be, but it's my only option.

I have accomplished nothing. I worked so hard to get here, to what end? I've become what I was before, except that I don't fight. I'm not just a SeeD anymore. I'm the SeeD commander. Daily, I hold the Garden together- thousands of students and staff, all depending on me to maintain the high standards set forth by Edea when we were all children. Yet, I can't even hold on to a relationship with the woman who means everything to me. I should have resigned my position as commander two years ago. Sure, I'd constantly be away, but at least I'd have an excuse for not spending more time with her. And, my time at home could actually be spent with her, rather than pushing paper all day.

I don't know how long I've sat here, wallowing in pity for myself. It could be ten minutes, it could be an hour. I don't know.

Or care.

"SQUALL!" a male voice yells over the ridiculously loud sounds of Seifer's musical opus. I look up to see Irvine standing in my office doorway looking half amused, half concerned. Irvine is one of those people who, no matter how bad things are or appear to be, never looses hope. There's always this look of amusement on his face, no matter how dire the situation. He's a lot like Selphie in a way. They're both perpetual optimists.

I don't understand optimism. You get your hopes up, you want the best, then you get knocked down. What's the point? It's easier to hope for nothing so you're pleasantly surprised when you get what you won't even admit to yourself that you want. You can't get hurt if you expect nothing. At least, that's the way I see it.

"I'm just gonna turn this down a little," Irvine says, his voice thick with a drawl found only in the rural villages near Deling City. His accent has never failed to remind me of an ignorant, dimwitted Galbadian villager. However, I know well that Irvine is far from ignorant. Of all of us, he is by far the most wise and down to earth. I watched him make his way to the stereo and turn the volume down to a tolerable level.

He favors me with a wry grin. "I see you've redecorated the place. Love the new look."

Despite myself, I laugh and lean my head against my hands. It's either laugh or cry, and I'm choosing the one that makes me look least like a weenie in front of my comrade.

"So . . ." Irvine drawls and takes one of the chairs that survived any structural damage and sets it up right. He literally flops in the chair and leans back with his hands behind his head. He's so laid back, it sickens me. Nothing phases him, and I've rarely seen him stress about anything. With one hand he gestures to the room around him. "What's going on?"

"I fucked up," I say into my hands.

"What do you mean by that?"

Ok, so maybe he is ignorant.

"I lost her, man," I say. I don't want to explain what just happened, least of all to him. He's never had a problem with women, so he probably wouldn't understand.

"You mean Rinoa?"

Yes. Rinoa, you idiot. Who else do I have to lose?

If I didn't owe Irvine my life, I'd throw him through the window. "It's my fault," I mutter. I can't stop thinking about what I could have done differently. My head is filled with what ifs and could have beens.

"Well, I hadn't any doubt about that." I give him a look acid enough to peel paint from the walls as I contemplate how much better It'd make me feel to throw him out the window. Head first.

"Whatever," I mumble and forlornly return my head to my hands.

"So, what did you do to anger the princess?"

"The worst thing I could have done."

"Which is?"

"Ignore her."

********************

Author's note:

This is a rewrite of my semi-infamous fan fic, Broken Wings. It's basically the same story, but with some major and minor changes. The story remains pretty much the same, but there are some chapters that are really badly written, and many of them lack enough description, especially the final chapters. I wasn't going to do this until I finished one or more of my ongoing stories, however, I happened to notice that all my quotation marks and apostrophes have been changed to a series of weird symbols, I have to repost. I'm not at all happy about this, but I've been encouraging people to read this story before they read the sequel.....*sighs*

If you haven't read this story before, I hope you enjoy it! You're getting a better deal than the readers did the first time around,since the revision is a far easier to understand than the original, Plus, there were a lot of things left unexplained in the old, and this one will make certain events and actions much easier to understand.

A note about the way this is written. The entire thing is in first person, and I've tried very hard to make sure it's clear who the speaker is. Shorter chapters have been consolidated, so there may be one or more speakers in a given chapter.

If you are reading "Oceans Apart" I regret to say that it will be on hiatus until the problems with this story have been fixed. It won't take too long, so don't go anywhere....please?

Sooo...Please review.....flame.....