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Chapter II

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I found myself clinging to each word we managed.

Our strained and pointless banter had transformed into its own version of poetry. Personal and intimate, something the world would never share. I craved to hear her say one more word; to listen to one last story. A sobering thought. Because with words came hope and that somehow shattered the silence.

And when they stopped.

(and they would)

When the silence took over...

(like a cancer)

She wasn't ready. Neither of us were.

(is anybody?)

Once I thought I'd… No. That was before. It changed.

(since her)

When your eyes are firmly cast on your own mortality, priorities and perspectives change – doubts and regret become as smothering as any physical object. The fact that I'd avoided the crux of her question became my crushing weight. The truth would surface (…unless) and the thought of Rinoa blaming herself was something I couldn't live with… even if 'living' had a finite definition.

She would think this was her fault; I knew it was mine. Two opinions both true - both false.

That reminded me of a theory Instructor Aki once lectured about during class. As I sit listening to Rinoa fight for breath, as I sense each shattered bone beneath my skin… I realize to those who will eventually lead the search party – for that brief time – we'll be both alive and dead.

A concept that I 'understood' sitting in a classroom, but never comprehended until life became my teacher. Aki will never know that his words got through to at least one student. If only this newfound clarity didn't charge such a high price.

Rinoa made a sound akin to a mouse's squeak; I looked down to where she rested beside me although utterly futile. I quickly realized I wasn't supposed to be hearing her. I don't even think she realized that she was thinking out loud and what fragmented pieces I could make out - hurt. I constantly instill others not to jump to conclusions without facts. I wish I could follow my own advice.

"Spend time, no. Not me with me... lunch nerve. Quistis… always. Balamb and here? How did this… How?"

When she repeated the last word with such desperation, I felt sick. I knew she'd never let the 'how' go. As I said before, I couldn't. Rinoa and I were more alike than Garden's population care to admit.

They would say determined.

Yet, they would say she was stubborn.

Nobody gave a damn the root quality was the same. One carried a negative of connotation and the other positive. Perspective is a hell of a thing.

Thinking about perspective, (on blame. all mine) I needed to make sure she understood the truth.

The truth as it was, not as how she saw it.

Taking a deep breath, I began. "Rin-"

Nothing else escaped that wasn't deep, hoarse coughing. Leave it to me to readily inhale that shit into my lungs. I tensed as my body began to spasm. It felt like a serrated knife slowly carving its way up the whole of my body. Between the wave of nausea and broken ribs using my lungs as pin cushion, it was all I could do to keep conscious. My body cried to shut itself down, just for a moment.

Fight. My mind screamed fight (not for me.)

Rinoa depended on me as much I depended on her - another sobering thought. Still, I was here. She wasn't alone. it would be so easy to close my eyes and rest…. just for. a moment. a single moment. a temporary escape. the pain.

"…Squall!" she choked out.

My eyes flung open, I didn't think I'd slept, but hearing the fear in her voice seemed to point otherwise. Time was no longer relative and sanity was something that needed to be questioned.

"I'm fine." The words were harsh. I was angry at weakness (my failure.)

"Why can't we remember?"

That confirmed what I knew: she'd assumed my memories were as jostled as hers. They had been. At first. I didn't tell her otherwise.

"Squall, do you…" She hesitated. I knew that she'd caught on. "…remember?"

It was an accusation disguised as a question.

This time the silence said something else.

My guilt.

"…Oh."

I wanted to apologize. (I wasn't sorry) I wanted to hold her, to reach out, to touch my lips to hers. To do anything but have her face this; I wanted to give her pleasure, but all I delivered was pain.

Her momentary silence spoke the words she could not. She was hurt, not upset.

Her pain became a catalyst to unlocking the truth.

"We pulled off the road… onto the plains. North. We went north. That… feels right."

With every memory that resurfaced, my stomach dropped. It wouldn't be long; the pictures would become more lucid as her mind cleared. For someone who abhorred weakness, hell I was its epitome. I've never felt more cowardice in my life.

I needed to be the one to tell her, I-

She jolted up. The pain must've been overwhelming. The blood-curling scream sliced through the silence, cutting me in the process.

"…God, the ceiling, falling… Everywhere!"

I knew that terror in her voice; it was the same feeling I had trying to reach her as everything came crashing down. Desperate pants between cries never ended as she fought the onslaught of memories.

And I…I relived every moment with her. A torrent of broken words, gasps, and panicked screams echoed. It was a soundtrack to death and desperation and (my) failure.

"Fira I-I…" She coughed - a sound more guttural than anything I've ever heard. It sounded… inhuman.

Gone. She was gone.

Rinoa managed to pull herself away. I felt naked. Exposed. That pain was far worse than anything my body threw at me. I didn't give a damn if I died trying; she wasn't going to blame herself.

I moved. I shouldn't have.

"Rin… my fault."

Searching the dark; in nothing. I was helpless, broken. weak. My motion was limited. My time was limited. But I wouldn't let us end like this.

"Don't blame… please."

That's what I was saying, but all I knew was I needed her. It was scary as hell, but I needed her. It was… it was…

…A romantic comedy penned in hell.

Coughing, choking, feeling through the rubble - hands bloody and bruised - to find her. She hadn't moved far. She couldn't. Enough to be out of reach.

It was either debris or my bones but, as I found a way to move over, a heard a constant stream of snaps and pops. I knew it all couldn't be me, but as the pain brought tears to my eyes, I knew some of it was. I found her fallen onto her side. I fell with her, no longer giving a damn about repercussions.

"Not leaving… you."

I rasped out feeling her next to me again. This was officially the worst goddamn game of hide-and-seek in history.

"…You should."

She didn't mean it. Rinoa was taking all the guilt and placing it on her. I lifted my arm to put on what I believed was her hip. For a brief moment, I mentally heard Dr. Kadowaki yelling at me that I'm doing absolutely everything wrong. I was. But it was the only way to do everything right.

"I… killed you." I felt her tremble beneath my hand. I wanted to point out that I wasn't dead, but that's not what she meant. An argument about semantics wasn't what was needed and, according to the earlier theory, I could be considered both.

"I-I," she kept repeating between coughs. She was making little sense – was it shock or worse? I had no idea what inhaling this gas would do long-term or had already done.

She leaned up, pulling away. I feared she'd try to move again. I couldn't. It was a hopeless revelation - this was how they'd most likely discover my body. I'd never thought about what position I'd die in (does anybody?) Now I knew. If she left, I'd also be alone. a damn pathetic failure. I didn't deserve to lead anyone, protect anyone. I sure as hell didn't deserve to be a knight. I was the one that killed her.

I deserved this undignified death (and more).

But she hadn't left.

She'd only pulled away. Her body expelled its contents, losing whatever traces of lunch remained. The cries of pain. I would have given her all my strength, but it would be a feeble offering at best. Time was disjointed. It felt as if she'd been in suffering forever, but that wasn't the case. All I could do was lay there as she wretched on bile until nothing was left. weak. feeble.

She moved back beside me; a comfort that I didn't deserve. She'd realized the same thing – blame was useless. This was our end but, we weren't alone. We both lay on the cavern floor, dirty, sweaty and out of breath. Gasping for air that again simply wasn't anywhere to be found.

We were together.

Funny, in another setting, if someone were to catch a glimpse, this might look like we're spent from some passionate bout of physical sex, save for our cloths and fatal injuries. I had an odd-timed humor; this was it. Here we were both world saviors - the great Commander of Balamb Garden and the sorceress who could 'destroy the world with a single wave.' Those people wouldn't find themselves here.

Those people don't exist – we do – Rinoa and Squall.

Like a shooting star, a fleeting thought flashed through the darkness - one scarier than any that came before. I wished we died. Quick, together, without pain and guilt – our bodies buried beneath the earth. I wonder if our spirits would've found peace in the silence rather than fear.

In that second, I wished we were dead.

"You deserved better… better than this, better than me."

And just like that, her voice tore at me. I just wished that she was dead - we were dead. I'd given up. It was that sense of déjà vu again. The giving, the taking, the fear, the desperation and then re-finding hope.

I was ashamed of who I was, this monster I'd become. No. I didn't deserve her. There was no better for me. But she did. A boyfriend who gave more than I could or say what she deserved to hear.

"Don't say that," I said it too quickly, causing me to literally choke on the words. She's patient as I again manage to calm down. I can feel the constant shaking to her body; I fear it's from the gas entering her blood stream. It's not good, I know.

I won't fail Rinoa; I won't fail myself. Again I find clarity as I assign my final missions in this life – to convince her:

She's not to blame. (I am)

She's meant everything to me the last few years. (more than words will say)

And that I lo...

She needs to know things. That's all. (damned pathetic fool)

I carefully tried to readjust my arm, draping it over her hip - it seemed a better option than her stomach early. My wrist is like a ragdoll and I noticed my arm's lost feeling – I can't say when – the nerves no longer worked replaced by painful numbness. I've convinced myself it doesn't matter because my mind can remember what she feels like. The way my calloused fingers trailed down her soft skin. I'll remember it all. Right now, that's what's driving me.

"Rinoa… this wasn't you. You are the reason we're alive."

That wasn't what I wanted to say. At all. Yet, there it was, that's what I said.

"You warned me about gas and I… I deserve everyth-"

"Stop it!" Again, my words come out harsh, but that's a road she's not going down. "You saved us."

She had. Honestly, I don't know how we're even alive; how she managed a Protect spell after being hit with a large chunk of the cave's ceiling. Her magic had been weak, all but draining her, but it was that sacrifice that allowed us this time. The thought made me twinge – a second ago I'd wished it was over quickly, but yet Rinoa did everything in her power (and then some) to spend these final minutes together.

I refuse to say this time is for our goodbyes. When I raised my gunblade at the Sorceress' Memorial, I made conscious decision to strike that word from my vocabulary. I left 'goodbyes' in Esthar the moment she fell into my arms.

…Sometimes makes ending phone conversations a bit tricky, but hanging up works equally as well. And while speaking to some political blowhard, it's much more satisfying.

The point stands: I'll never say goodbye.

But this is where determination and stubbornness clashed. I was hell bent on proving one thing; she was hell-bent on another.

"Fira? That's not saving. That's killing. You should be with an equal. A SeeD not… an amateur. A child."

I knew what that was about too. My little quip about her being 'an amateur' was something I wish I'd kept to myself.

But I hadn't.

I also wish I that didn't mean it.

But I did.

We were different people then, in different circumstances. I won't deny who we were back then because that would negate who we are now.

"Rinoa, that was four years ago. We've both had a lifetime of experience since then." I found that if I talked slow it helped, maybe it was also better being near the cave floor. "You're not a damn child. You're the strongest woman I know. The strongest person I know."

She was.

Society's hung up on ideals and that strength is defined by some mold. I wasn't lying. Rinoa Heartilly is the strongest person I know; she makes me want to be a better person. Not a better SeeD - a better person. Not one person I'd ever known held that much power. Rinoa never asks anything of me – therein lies the beauty. This desire stems from something unknown inside; something she saw in me that I never could.

She hadn't responded to me though, even her muffled cries seemed to have stopped. I hated myself as my mind jumped to the worst possible scenario. Until I heard a sigh, but one born in defeat.

"Strong people don't kill the ones they love. Only amateurs use Fira spells when the air is full of gas… Especially after they were warned not to."

"Stop. Just stop." It came off as low, thunderous growl. I knew how it sounded, but the anger was directed squarely back on myself. Like I said, facing your own mortality puts things in perspective – especially your own stupidity.

"You're that insistent about placing blame? Fine, I'll bite. I'm to blame. Boyfriends don't cut lunch short, especially to gather supplies for people perfectly capable on their own. Commanders don't become complacent on missions; complacency breeds mistakes. Knights are supposed to protect, help guide – the only place I guided you was to your death. I was too damn lax, you didn't even have a weapon. Of course you'd use magic to defend yourself."

For the first time, the tears gathering in my eyes weren't a result of the pain. I think saying it out loud drove every point home – to me. In that moment, I knew for sure that Rinoa was the one who deserved better. I knew about the gas, but it seemed a waste of resources to come all this way for nothing. Nothing. Hell, I wouldn't even let her climb the rocks to grab some Magic Stones sitting resting on the edge of the Caterchipillar's nest. When it returned, she was watching me and my back was turned. Startled, she only did what came natural – what I'd taught her as a knight.

The most basic of elements: fire.

Fire and Ice. The first two spells the cadets learn. Complimentary. Consuming. Beautiful. Deadly. The easiest to learn, the most impossible to master. Rinoa didn't use Para-Magic, hers was carried from within. In that moment of surprise, she followed the pattern I'd started with her years ago. A conjured low-grade Fira spell is all it took. How she had the strength to sustain the Protect spell after that defies all logic.

I'll say it again – I contemned us; she bought us time.

"I'm angry with myself, Rinoa. I failed on every conceivable level. I'm the child afraid to share his toys because I feel as if nobody else plays right. I'm the amateur. Afraid to trust Quistis. Afraid to trust you. Too shortsighted to see my own incompetence. I'm not a commander. Hell, I'm not even a SeeD. I should be demoted and kicked the hell out of Garden for sheer ignorance. If you want someone to blame – it's certainly not you. But that doesn't matter anymore. I wish it did, but fault no longer means shit. This is it and I don't want to spend our last few minutes of our lives fighting."

What. The. Hell.

It slipped out before I was even aware; I'd like to blame being disorientated on the gas, but I couldn't. I was goddamn right; I didn't even deserve to be a boyfriend, knight, commander or, at this point, a human being. No matter what I was thinking, fleeting or not, I needed to be her strength. I shouldn't have told her.

"…We're not going to make it."

There was a tranquility to her words, almost as if she was somehow going to accept what we still didn't want to believe. Maybe because I was the ass that said them and she trusted me.

"Don't." I closed my eyes again, softly berating her for giving me that trust.

I knew I shouldn't close them, I knew the consequences, but I was tired of all the battles – with enemies, with Garden, with Rinoa and within myself. It was constant, but that's how I needed it. I thrived in that type of chaos.

"The hardest enemy to fight is the one silently lying dormant within yourself."

Of all people in the world, Seifer said that to me about a year after fighting Ultimecia. I acted indifferent at the time, but I understood the demons – more so now than ever. We all have them hiding inside – some we'd face, some we never will. Again, someone else who will never know their words stayed with me.

Maybe I deserved this, but it was Rinoa who'd pay for my arrogance. The last thing I wanted was for her to think like that – like me.

The fact was simple: as long as we were alive, there was still hope. Rinoa showed me that.