Author's Note: Here's the second chapter of "Alone." It took me forever to write, but here it is. As I hope it's easy to assume, all the events in this chapter correspond with the events that occurred in the previous one.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Square, Square owns us all.
ForgottenWhen you really, really love someone, you would do anything, anything to save them… right?
That's what I believed. And that's why I did it.
But now I've lost everything, and I'm all alone.
All alone… just me and my thoughts.
I can't do anything but think. Just think all day until I realize it's the next day, maybe the next week, but all the while, thinking. And the more I do it, the more it hurts, every single painstaking thought intensifies the one that came before it, and I hate myself more for what I did to him.
Wait… Why am I complaining? He's probably hurting a lot more than I am.
I know he's hurting a lot more than I am.
I knew when I did it that he would immediately retreat back to his introverted shell, cut himself off from the world, and then return to they way he'd been before I met him, cold and distant.
But the reason I did it… even if they were lying to me, I couldn't take that risk.
It's weird. Now that I'm here, I can understand why he was always so afraid of being alone. I wonder…if I'd known this would happen to me, would I try to keep my distance from everyone, as he did?
I guess it doesn't really matter.
…I miss him. I want to see him, I want to be with him again, I want to tell him I didn't mean anything I said that night.
But I'll never see him again. I'll never really know how badly he's hurting, and I'll never get to tell him how sorry I am for what I did.
I'll never be able to say 'I love you' to him again.
The slow creak of a door, approaching footsteps...
Maybe… maybe it could happen today?
My pulse sped up rapidly, and my stomach quickly began twisting into knots at the idea.
"Skaul?" I whimpered, opening my eyes towards the door hopefully.
I realized after I spoke that his name hadn't come out right. The word rolled off my tongue unnaturally, and if I had said more, my words would have been oddly pronounced and slurred together.
Maybe the stuff they've been injecting into me is developing more side effects.
I found myself disappointed to see that the old man in the white lab coat was approaching me slowly, a needle delicately held between his wrinkled fingers.
It's like this everyday. Whenever the door opens, I quickly get my hopes up, desperately wanting to see him pause in the doorway, then quickly rush by my side to rescue me.
But it's a silly fantasy. How would he find me? Why would he even worry about me, let alone, save me, especially since I told him to forget everything?
I know that I'll never see him again, but for some reason, I think the same way everyday.
But nothing matters anymore.
I'm soon pulled back into reality when I look to the doorway only to find these strange men in lab coats with their sharp, pointy syringes, ready to inject some disgusting purple substance into my bloodstream.
Scuff, scuFF, SCUFF.
I scooted back towards the wall and pulled my knees to my chest as the sound of footsteps grew louder and closer.
"No, nod doday, blease…" I moaned pathetically, ignoring my horribly congested- sounding voice.
The man knelt down next to me, pulling down my trembling knees and grabbing my limp arm, like I was some kind of rag doll that could be easily tossed around. I tried to pull away, but the man seemed to have no problem keeping my arm where he wanted it.
"Doon't," I whined, trying to find the strength to resist, but the man just tightened his grip on me, hurting me more than I think it should have.
"Be quiet, Rinoa," he said calmly, as he raised the needle, flicking the plastic that held the violet liquid with his forefinger and thumb.
"No…" I protested, shaking my head, the only action I made to resist. Two years ago, or however long I've been here, I would have been kicking and screaming with all I had, I would have done anything in my power to get away from the man.
But I wasn't the person I had been two years ago, I wasn't the same strong-willed woman I used to be, so I could only tightly shut my eyes as he plunged the needle through my skin, the painful sting rapidly shooting through my forearm as he injected the fluid into my body. I could only wince when the sharp tip was finally pulled out of my arm, and the thick liquid slowly entered my forearm, then slowly spread to my fingertips, my shoulder, until I could feel it coursing throughout my entire body.
I broke out into a cold sweat, my limbs beginning to shake violently. My entire body was screaming out in pain, it was all I felt, I couldn't even feel the tears that soon soaked my face.
"They're all going to forget you," the man said, taking no heed to the horrible pain I was obviously in.
"What?"
"And if they find a way to remember, they'll forget again."
How can he know that? Does he really mean it? Could that happen?
"No!"
If he forgets about me, there's no way he'll ever be able to get me out of here!
I don't know why I clung to that thought, but the idea of him taking me away from this wretched place seemed to be the only thing that kept me alive. And if he forgot about me, there would be absolutely no chance for me to see him again, and I could never be rescued.
It suddenly felt as if a million needles were being jabbed repeatedly into my entire body. Every single inch of my skin screamed out as the pain quickly grew more intense, the imaginary needles pricking me harder and deeper with every agonizingly slow second…
I curled into a ball on the hard, cold floor, screaming and crying like a four-year-old. I think the man left, I'm really not sure, as I was frantically screamed for the pain to stop, for help, for him…
And yet, nobody seemed to care.
I was suddenly pulled out of the tremendous pain and found myself standing in the middle of a huge green field, the strong wind tossing pretty flower petals about, along with my hair and knitted duster.
Is this a dream?
I seriously wondered for a while, but the hard, cold wind blowing against my skin, through my hair, and the fresh air filling my nose told me that this was definitely too real to be a dream.
For a few blissful moments, I felt free and lighthearted, the urge to spontaneously skip and dance through this field seemed to be my only option, I hadn't felt this way for what seemed like forever, but right when I began spreading out my arms and kicking up my legs, a heavy, sickening feeling suddenly pulled me down with a force that made me cough and gag, causing the fleeting feelings of delight and contentment to melt into anxiousness fear, and…
Guilt…
Sickening Guilt…
Someone was here. Someone I missed more than anyone. Someone I cared about more than anything.
"Squall?"
I didn't need to turn around to know he was there.
I was so scared, I couldn't keep myself from trembling as I spun on my heel, and walked closer to him, tightly clutching the rings on my necklace, my eyes firmly fixed on my feet. I finally stopped when I was close enough to him, and somehow fought up the courage to raise my eyes from the ground, and look up at him.
Fear and guilt slapped me in the face the instant our eyes met. I wanted to look away, but I found that I wasn't allowing myself, I was unconsciously enforcing a sick punishment upon myself: I needed to take a long, hard look at what I had done to the one I loved, I needed to witness what I was responsible for.
As I kept our eyes locked in the painful stare, I realized he really was worse than I had imagined.
He looked extremely tired; it was obvious he had had many sleepless nights, and idly wasted days. His skin was slightly paler than I remembered, and his shiny brown hair was messy, like he hadn't run a comb through it for days.
But that wasn't even the half of it.
His eyes, the beautiful eyes that had once been endlessly filled with deep, clear emotions were now cold, dead…
Empty...
If I had searched harder, I could have found the anger, anxiousness, pain, and fear that also consumed him, but I could only see the horrible emptiness that overwhelmed him, the emptiness I had filled him with.
What have I done to him?!
Guilt. Unbearable, sickening guilt.
It smothered and choked me, a dreadful weight that was determined to drag me to the ground.
I did this to him. It's all my fault. How could I, how could I?!
I realized how badly I was shaking. My knees were ready to give in, and my teeth were chattering like crazy, even through my closed mouth. I knew he could hear them loudly clattering together, I just knew it, so I quickly bit my bottom lip, hoping it would help the shaking stop.
"Rinoa?"
It didn't.
My trembling only grew worse at the sound of his voice. I hadn't heard his voice for so long. It felt so good, yet awful. He was obviously miserable and the tremendous amount of pain and anger he felt towards me were clearly written in his voice, but I was almost certain I could feel gladness there also.
I'm so sorry, I thought, willing my thoughts to turn themselves into words.
I wanted to speak. I wanted to tell him so badly that I hadn't meant any of it, that I'd always felt the same way about him, my feelings for him had never changed, but only unwanted tears rolled down my cheeks, and a small, pathetic whimper escaped my lips, a sharp contrast to the words I had so badly wanted to say to him for so long.
I looked back up at him, unable to speak, only able to cry. I could only hope my eyes were telling him what I'd been thinking.
Maybe he understood, maybe he somehow forgot how angry he was with me, maybe he was only acting by instinct… maybe he was crazy, but when he slowly wrapped his arms around me and held me close to him, I knew his feelings for me hadn't changed during our separation, as mine hadn't for him.
Squall?
I held onto him tightly, crying harder as I buried my face in his chest. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to, he just held me there, and absentmindedly ran his fingers along my back, and through my hair, comforting me more than any candy-coated words could have.
Somehow he was telling me there was nothing to worry about, that everything was all right, even though we both knew that nothing was. But for that moment, nothing that had happened before, or anything that would happen after, mattered.
For that moment, I wasn't able to think, only able to feel.
I couldn't let go, I would never let go. It could have been a dream, it should have been a dream, but since it wasn't, I would hold onto him as tightly as I possibly could.
I desperately tried to make time stop, but the seconds seemed to pass too quickly, and somehow, the sick thoughts found their way back into my head, and I began doubting everything.
Why is he comforting me? Why is he protecting me? Does he really care about me? …Or does he just believe that none of this is real?
Almost immediately after I thought it, he spoke. The words obviously tasted bitter in his mouth.
"This is a dream."
No!
The warmth and safety were quickly ripped away from me, taking away the support that had kept me on my feet, bringing me to my knees.
He was here. He held me. He let me cry on him. But now—
"He is gone," an ominous voice said, finishing my thought aloud.
I quickly opened my eyes, and looked up, realizing I wasn't free in the windy field anymore; I was trapped back in that God forsaken room, all alone, my physical pain slowly returning to me.
"No…" I whispered, refusing to accept reality.
I had just been in his arms. He was with me, and he cared! But now—
"He's gone," the voice said again, this time firmer, "And he will forget you."
My trembling increased, my eyes widening in fear once again, "No…" I whispered again.
No. He can't. He just can't.
"He was right, you know."
At my confused expression, he continued, "About it being a dream."
I shook my head, and spoke, realizing my voice was back to normal, even in this place.
"No… It was real, it was definitely real."
Another tear slid down my cheek as I desperately tried to remember the feeling of his arms securely wrapped around me, his clean, sweet scent filling me, his warm skin against mine—
"How did you do it?" his voice had changed; he wasn't as calm anymore, but it was obvious he was trying to keep himself under control. It was strange; I felt I recognized this sound, this tone of voice, but I couldn't remember where.
"What?"
"How did you bring him there?" he said, his voice rising with every word.
"Wha--"
Suddenly losing his patience, the old, but surprisingly strong man roughly grabbed me and uncomfortably shoved me against the wall. I winced as his hot breath hit my skin, his face only inches from mine as he whispered,
"Don't play dumb! How did you do it, sorceress?"
Sorceress? But my powers are gon--
"Answer me!"
The memory of where I had heard this tone of voice suddenly came flooding back to me.
It had been him who'd pulled me away from the world and told me there was no escape. It had been him who'd told me if Squall came after me, they'd kill him. He had told me I had to make sure Squall had no reason to care where I was or what I was doing.
…And I'd done what that man told me to.
"Answer!"
"I don't know!" I finally shouted, returning to the present.
Disbelief quickly crept on his face, along with murderous intent. I trembled even more, my stomach swirling with panic and sickly chemicals.
"I don't know!" I screamed again as his sharp nails dug into my skin, slowly cutting off the circulation in my arms.
Why is he doing this? Can't he see that I'm telling the truth?
Through my terror, I was somehow able to hear the door quickly open, and the angry shout of another male voice,
"What the hell are you doing?"
The old man suddenly released his vice grip on me, blood slowly finding its way through the familiar veins as he walked out the door, giving me one last deadly look before the other angry man slammed the door behind him.
What just happened?
"How did you do it, sorceress?"
Are my powers back?
No, no. They can't be. They just can't.
…Even if they were, how could I possibly be capable of pulling someone into a dream world?
"And he will forget you."
No. I can't let that happen.
I had to be with him, I had to tell him that he couldn't forget me, he just couldn't. I had to find a way to tell him, even if it meant using my powers.
Hell, I wasn't even sure if they were really there… I just threw all the energy I had left into trying to be with him, trying to tell him that he couldn't forget me.
I found myself in Headmaster Cid's office, facing the elevator. A million words I had said before ran unclearly through my head, clouding my ability to think clearly. I tried to make my voice stop, but it only seemed to get worse, the words I had once said began to over lap each other, and my mind became more and more hazy the more and more I heard my irritable, happy, angry, or excited voice.
"RINOA!!"
The harsh, painful screaming of a voice I painfully recognized filled my ears, and broke through the incessant rambling of my own voice. I was finally able to think clearly and remember my purpose for being here. I quickly dropped to the floor in front of the screaming man and placed a trembling hand on his shoulder.
He immediately stopped screaming, and drew his head up to look at me. The surprise on his face was clear, but I ignored it, hysterically shouting like a madwoman to explain why I was here.
"You can't forget me!"
I realized it sounded weird, and it must have seemed to come out of nowhere, but why was that blank expression on his face?
I tightly grabbed his other shoulder, and slightly shook him, desperately yelling his name.
He had to understand.
"Squall!" I frantically shouted, "Don't forget me! Everyone else will, but you have to remember!"
His expression slowly altered from blank to confused.
Why couldn't he understand? Wasn't it simple enough?
I repeated myself three more times, becoming more and more frantic each time I spoke.
He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice didn't reach me as I watched him mouth my name. But I was too frantic to really care.
Until I finally understood the meaning of his blank expression.
He didn't understand me. He couldn't understand me.
I desperately stared into his eyes, wishing he could just comprehend what I was saying, but it seemed like he couldn't even hear me.
Why? What's going on?
My heart sank as he slowly shook his head. He obviously had absolutely no idea what I was trying to tell him.
I tightly clenched my fists, unintentionally gathering his jacket in my hands.
Why couldn't he get it, dammit!? What am I doing wrong?
I looked at the ground, beginning to give up.
"Nice try, Rinoa," a voice I recognized thundered above us, "But I'm afraid you're out of time."
No!
I looked back up at him, wishing I could answer all the questions written on his face, but I knew it was hopeless.
"Squall," I whispered, one last time, "Don't forget me. Everyone else will, but you have to remember! …Please…"
He shook his head again.
He still couldn't understand.
My last chance had vanished.
No…
I don't know how, but I felt him slowly begin to forget all about me. Who I was, what I meant to him, my name. Everything.
Everything.
No!
I cried and screamed, oblivious to the fact that my lack of concentration brought me tumbling back into that room. All I could feel was the unrelenting pain in my chest, the fire that burned me to ashes as I felt myself being completely erased from his mind.
I was alone.
Forgotten.
There was no one out there who cared about me. No one out there to rescue me.
As I wallowed in myself, I somehow felt him searching for me. I could feel him desperately trying to find out what he felt was missing, who I was.
Hope somehow found its way back into me, and I prayed with all my might that he would remember.
You can't forget, you have to remember, you have to, you have to, you have to…
It seemed to be forever before I heard his bitter voice in my head.
"How could I forget?"
…He remembered?
I was too happy to even question why or how, but…
It didn't last.
I felt our memories slowly being removed from his mind. I could feel his struggle to keep me, his fight to hold onto what little he had left of us.
We fought together.
But it wasn't long before he told himself that he'd already lost me; I'd left him.
I tried my hardest to tell him that that wasn't true. But he ignored everything I desperately shouted as he opened his mind to whoever "they" were and let "them" rip me away from him.
No…
No.
I wanted him to remember me, I wanted him to care about me, but most of all, I wanted him with me.
For so long, I'd wished he would just heroically rescue me, and take me away from here. But right then, all I wanted was for him to be right by my side.
But there was nothing I could do.
I was only able to think as I lay abandoned on the cold, hard floor. I was only able to think as the hours and days slowly passed by. I was only able to think as the emptiness that had just suddenly fell upon him swallowed me also.
But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
Because there was no out there who cared about me.
There was no one out there who knew I existed.
No matter how hard I wished for him to be here, no matter how badly I just wanted him to be with me, I was completely helpless. There was absolutely nothing I could do.
Because I had been abandoned by everyone.
I was alone.
Forgotten.
Again.
If you read all the way to here, I am in love with you. Thank you so much for reading! I don't know why that was so hard to write. I think I just like writing as Squall more than Rinoa. Oh well. I hope you liked it. Review, please!