***Warning***: This will be filled with mentions of rape, angst, violence, suicide, crude language, homosexuality, and many other controversial issues, including certain religious beliefs being ridiculed, so far mainly Christianity, (my own religion) and Nazism. If any of this offends you, I suggest you don't read this, because it will get a lot worse in the next few chapters. You have been forewarned. Flames are welcome as long as they aren't about the homosexuality, because I'm SICK of that. Keep that particular opinion to yourself.
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII or VIII, and the lyrics to Bleed American belong to Jimmy Eat World, but the plot line is entirely mine.
Summary: Something written in Squall's point of view. It's an alternate universe crossover between FF7 and 8. For those of you who have read Double Vision, these are the events that precede and follow the event of that short story, despite the fact that there are sever discrepancies that need to be fixed. You can read Double Vision first to get an idea as to what this is about, but it isn't necessary.
**I know in DV Squall was supposed to be 17, and Cloud 27, but I'm meaning to change their ages to 19 and 29. For those of you who haven't read Double vision, it is not necessary to do so.
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Bleed America
I'm not alone cause the TV's on
yeah.
I'm not crazy cause I take the right pills everyday.
And rest, clean your conscious, clear your thoughts with speyside with your
grain.
Clean your conscious, clear your thoughts with speyside.
Salt, sweat, sugar on the asphalt.
Our hearts littering the topsoil.
Tune in and we can get the last call.
Our lives, our coal.
Salt, sweat, sugar on the asphalt.
Our hearts littering the topsoil.
Sign up it's the picket line or the parade.
Our lives.
I bled the) greed from my arm.
Won't they give it a rest now?
Salt, sweat, sugar on the asphalt.
Our hearts littering the topsoil.
~*~ Bolt From The Blue~*~
It's so strange that such beauty
Can come from such horror.
I've never liked the cliché conversation bit, "'I don't know where to begin.' 'At the beginning,'" because it's such a stupid comment. Had someone really known where the beginning was, they wouldn't have been having any problems. It goes along with the bit, "'I lost something.' 'Where did you loose it?'" but that's a whole other subject, and I'm rambling.
I don't really have a problem with finding the beginning, seeing as how this is a biography of sorts. My name is Squall Leonhart. I spent the first seven years of my life in an orphanage run by Cid Kramer and his wife Edea. My mother, Raine Leonhart, died giving birth to me, and my father, though he doesn't deserve to be called that, was a bastard who left before I was even born. I don't know what his name was.
I have the blood type AB, which in general isn't that rare, but can cause problems when the hospital is running short on blood…
…But once again, I'm going off subject. I'm not entirely sure when I was born, though I was brought to the orphanage at the beginning of September. I chose August twenty-third as my birthday because it was the same day another child, a girl name Ellone to whom I looked up to as an older sister, was born that day.
Ellone and the Kramers were the only memories I have from my time spent at the orphanage, or at least the only fond ones. I've blocked out the rest of the memories along with so many other things. My heart for one.
When I was seven, I was fortunate enough to be adopted into a kind family. It's very rare for the older children to be adopted because most families only want younger kids, babies mostly, so yes, in most people would consider me fortunate. I, however, do not. The family was a severely religious Christian family, and were also homophobic. While it didn't cause any problems when I was younger, it did later on.
When I was fifteen, I discovered that women didn't appeal to me. I liked them, and could appreciate their beauty, but they were nothing compared to men. I was terrified when I realised this. My adoptive parents had taught me it was evil. I thought I was a freak and would go to Hell. I later learned that there were many other people like me, and I befriended them.
I guess that's what started my downfall. For three years, I kept my sexual preferences a secret from my adoptive parents, cringing mentally every time they mentioned homosexuality. I got exceptional grades in school and was part of almost all of my school teams: football, lacrosse, and rugby. I acted like the perfect child, only to hide what I was from my parents.
Only a few months ago, my parents learned from friends of the family that a friend of mine was a homosexual. They confronted me, and asked me if I'd known. That's when I lost it. I told them what I felt, and they kicked me out of the house. They said I was unholy, and that I was a whore, though before that point, the closest I'd been to sex was a blowjob. That all changed later, but that's all together another subject.
Fortunately for me, a friend of mine had an older sister that offered to take me in. I stayed with her until I was able to get a job at a restaurant and make enough money to get my own basement apartment. It wasn't very big, but fortunately, it was cheep, warm and dry. I had to work all of my free hours, but fortunately, I still kept my grades up enough to be accepted into several of the better colleges.
In the past three months I have lived in four different places. The first was my parents' house, the second, a friend's sister because I was kicked out of the first. I moved into the third place because I didn't want to impose. The reason for the forth move was a man named Zell, my own stupidity, and the monster named Sephiroth.
I met Zell while working at the restaurant. I was his waiter one night while he was there during business. I'm not sure how it happened, but suddenly he started coming around more often, talking to me, giving me gentle touches; a hand on the shoulder, accidentally touching my hand, all of the other classically romantic things. Before I knew it, one night he asked me if I wanted to go out for dinner. I almost laughed at him. It was eleven o'clock at night. But I have do admit, I was quite taken by him. He was charming, witty, and kind-hearted. It helped that he was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. He wasn't tall, but he was well built with eyes as blue as the sky, spiked blond hair and an intricate tribal tattoo on his right cheek. I accepted his invitation with a little hesitation, though. I didn't really know him all that well.
He took me to a small Chinese food restaurant that seemed somewhat run down, I quickly discovered that the restaurant was well known for its food, if not its scenery. We talked more than ate, and I learned he was a twenty-six-year-old lawyer for some large mal-practice firm. He told me he really hated the job, but that it paid well, and in a few years, he wanted to save enough money to start a pro-bono practice for those unfortunate enough to be unable to pay for their own representation. I didn't entirely understand why he wanted to help people he didn't know. It had absolutely to personal gain, but I respected him for it, and I think it made me fall in love with him.
I went home with him that night, though I had no idea of his intentions. To my surprise, we spent the entire night talking, and just lying close to each other. I fell asleep, fully clothed, wrapped in his arms in the early morning hours, and when we woke up, we lay together, talking while he played with my hair. I still believe that that was the best thing that I have ever experienced.
I don't know what possessed me, but I asked him to spend the next weekend in my sorry excuse for an apartment, and he agreed. I think I was in love with him, and I wanted to give myself to him. I thought of him as somewhat of a guardian angle, beautiful and radiant, coming to tell me everything would be fine.
I went to school every day lost in my own private euphoria, and he came to see me every night while I was at work. I looked forward anxiously for that Friday. I was excited because I could spend the entirety of two days with him; nervous because I was prepared to give him something I could never get back. How was I supposed to know that night would change the course of my life for better, but mostly for worse?
When I went to work that evening, I got a call from him from Washington. He was working on a case and wouldn't be able to spend the weekend. I was crushed, but we made plans to get together the next weekend. Zell apologized profusely for not being able to come, but we both knew there was nothing he could do about it.
That night, when I got off work, I decided against taking the city bus home, and opting instead for walking. It was a cool night, and I was hoping to clear my head with the fresh air. It was that single decision, really, that caused everything I had made with the first eighteen years of my life come crashing down. That night I ran into Sephiroth.
Have you ever wondered what the worst possible thing that could ever happen to someone is?
Is it to lose your life? I don't really think so, because I am Christian, and believe that when I die, I will go to a better place.
Is it then to lose your identity? Maybe, but then again, you could always start again, rebuilding new memories and dreams.
Could it then be losing your pride? Some people might think so… but then again, it is said that pride will be humanities downfall.
Do you want to know what I think the worst possible thing would be? Rape.
When someone is violated in such a way, they lose their will to live. They tend to think themselves as useless. In a sense, they've lost their lives. When someone is raped, they are striped of everything they used to be, and are forever changed. They have lost their spark, the thing that made them who they were. Finally, when someone is attacked like that, they lose their pride. They lose the very thing that makes them human. They are no longer alive; they have lost their soul and are now living only in flesh.
It's not true in every case, and there are many that get over the wounds that they acquire, but they are forever changed, and will never be the same, forever scared, not in body, but in spirit. It's an invisible wound that, contrary to popular beliefs, will not be healed by time. These wounds can only be healed by one thing; love.
Unfortunately, there isn't enough love in this screwed up world. Love isn't what makes the world go round, it's the desire to dominate, the love of violence, and a lot of money that fills that role.
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AN: If you haven't noticed yet, there's going to be mention of rape and violence in the next chapter. For those of you who don't like what's going on so far, in the fourth chapter, things start to get better. All reviews are welcome. Thanks for the support and for stroking my ego.
