Kompression

Description: It began with a house and a dream, but by its end, there will be magic, murder, and the answers to questions long dead but never destroyed. The boy in his basement will see to that. CloudxSquall, AU.

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 and 8 both belong to Square(-Enix), so don't look at me.

A/N: Thought I should warn you, you're all going to hate me at the end of this chapter. Really, really hate me. Just, if you feel the need to throw things, let them be soft, please, and not pointy. Thanks.


7

The rest of the week was uneventful, at least when compared with the week prior. During the day, Cloud worked, visited the hospital to see what small improvement had been made that day, then spent some time at the library before going home for dinner and rest. As Innis had promised, every single article that had been written about the incident was on file for him to read and examine. Some of them he had read before during his internet research, but there were several smaller ones that he hadn't yet seen. They didn't provide any immediate insight to his situation, but Cloud read them all anyway in the hopes that some small detail he absorbed now would prove useful later.

Viola turned out to be the head librarian. She was a smallish woman in her forties who would have been quite beautiful if not for the fact that she had fully embraced the librarian look. She kept her long, auburn hair pulled back in a bun, wore glasses with thick brown rims, and dressed in the frumpiest outfits Cloud had ever seen. Her expression seemed to be stuck in a perpetual frown, and although she was quite polite and an extremely helpful aide in his quest, Cloud never saw her smile. As for her opinion on Innis, she had made that clear the first afternoon he had gone. "Insufferable man," she had said when he had mentioned his name, and Cloud had been too afraid of her taking her anger out on him to say any more.

During the evenings, while Cloud slept, he and Squall sat together in the wasteland and talked. They stuck mainly to simple topics like Squall's family, school, and other memories that came easily to him. Each memory brought pain with it, as expected, but Cloud only pushed him gently. He knew that the more the kid remembered, the more his real world self would recover, but he couldn't bring himself to put Squall through too much pain at one time. Instead, he filled the empty space by opening up about himself, telling the kid about his friends and sharing stories from when he was growing up. Squall listened with that expression of quiet interest that Cloud had come to associate with him.

They were so pleasant and so ridiculously comfortable, these evenings he spent in a world where time was held hostage. Being with Squall felt easy, natural, to the point where it would have freaked Cloud out if he hadn't already realized his feelings for the other young man. Even so, it made him nervous to think about their eventual future. At some point he would have to tell Squall his feelings and offer himself up for rejection, and that was never a particularly fun prospect. Someone else might have considered keeping his attraction a secret and suffering in silence indefinitely, but neither Cloud nor the soul with whom he shared his body agreed with that kind of thinking. He'd put it off, but he wouldn't hide it forever. Acting like that seemed too much like cowardice for his liking.

In a way, Thursday night was the perfect example of what would eventually have to occur. All week, Cloud had been putting off causing Squall excessive pain, but he knew as he walked about his house, getting ready for bed, that their mutual reprieve was over. All of the arrangements had been made, all the paperwork filled out, approved, and filed, and tomorrow real-Squall would be coming home from the hospital to live with Cloud. Tonight, he would have to push dream-Squall as far as he could so that, if something happened to his physical body in response, Squall would still have people near him who could help him. He couldn't put this particular step off any longer. It was time.

Grimly, Cloud turned off the downstairs lights and put a bowl of food out on the back porch for the stray. He had seen the dog a few times, but only in the distance. Still, something kept eating the food, so he kept putting it out, hoping that he wasn't just feeding the local squirrels and raccoons. With that done, he went upstairs and went through his nightly routine, the motions comforting in their familiarity. Finally, he slipped into bed, the pendant in its usual place around his neck.

Squall gave him a hesitant smile when he arrived. The kid knew the significance of this visit as well and had told Cloud not to worry about it. Still, Cloud could see the mild apprehension in those gray eyes as they met his own. Squall may have accepted the coming pain as necessary and may have forgiven Cloud in advance for it, but that didn't mean he wasn't afraid. The expression in those eyes cut straight to Cloud's heart. He wanted to gather the kid up in his arms and comfort him, tell him it would be okay, but of course he didn't. Instead, he took his usual spot on the ground next to Squall, keeping his hands to himself and his mouth shut.

"Hey," Squall greeted as Cloud got himself comfortable.

"Hey," Cloud returned. He knew from experience that Squall wouldn't appreciate warming up with small talk or anything of that nature, so he dove straight into it. "You ready for this?"

"I guess," the kid answered with a small shrug. He had blanked out his expression which, Cloud had learned, meant that he didn't want anyone to know what he was feeling. The sight sent a fresh wave of guilt coursing through Cloud's body, but he fought it off.

"All right," he said instead, "let's do it."

It had become apparent during previous talks that Squall had several mental blocks positioned in various places in his head. Most of his memories caused some pain when he tried to access them, but the memories hiding behind these walls caused him the most agony. They didn't know exactly how many he had, but they knew through previous tries that the identities of the four kids who had gone before him were securely behind these blocks. Tonight, they were going to knock down as many as they could.

"Four kids disappeared before you did," Cloud began. "What can you tell me about them?"

Even before Squall started speaking, his face had pinched into an expression of pain, but he answered without pause, "The first was a girl, then a guy, then another girl, and another guy. I remember that my dad was worried for me because they were all in my grade, but when the fourth guy disappeared, he said something about it being okay because the next one would be a girl. I got annoyed at him for that, but I often got annoyed at him." He paused, eyes falling closed in concentration. "The first one … the first one was … uhnnn …"

Cloud swallowed his rising concern as Squall's body began to shake slightly with the pain of remembering. After watching him struggle in vain for nearly a minute, however, he could no longer hold his tongue. Thinking that it would help jumpstart the rest of the process, Cloud spoke the first victim's name.

Squall's entire body flickered in and out of existence like a TV with bad reception. Shocked, Cloud stared at him for several seconds, and Squall stared back, equally surprised.

"What just happened?" he asked, gray eyes wide. "I heard you say something, but it was all garbled and it crackled like static."

"All I said was her name."

"Whose name?"

Again, Cloud said it, and again, Squall blinked on and off repeatedly. His heart sinking, Cloud listed the other three names as well, watching as the young man next to him flashed and buzzed like a dying neon light. Just before he spoke the last name, he placed his hand on Squall's shoulder, then jumped as his entire hand up to the wrist passed through the other's body as he flickered. Quickly, Cloud pulled his hand back, not wanting to have it anywhere near Squall when the boy resolidified.

"Shit," he muttered, lifting his eyes to meet his companion's. Sadly, he asked, "You know what this means?"

"Yeah," Squall answered with a grim little smile. "It means you can't help me. I have to do it all on my own."

"Shit," Cloud repeated as he leaned back on his hands and gazed up at the sky.

"You know, you shouldn't swear," Squall chastised him, although there was humor in his voice as he said it.

Cloud just lifted an eyebrow at him and retorted, "Swearing is good for you. There have been studies done that prove that swearing reduces the amount of pain and stress you feel."

"Really?"

"Really. You should try it."

Squall chuckled quietly, but his humor quickly faded. A hesitant expression crept over his face as his eyes slid sideways. "There's something else that reduces the pain," he said, the words coming out slowly and quietly as if he were unsure whether or not to say them, "but I don't know if … if you would …"

Initially, Cloud didn't understand what he was trying to say, but when he noticed those eyes flick down to his hands and then quickly away, he suddenly remembered that second night and how Squall had barked not to touch him even as he held Cloud's hands close against his head. "Sure," he said, answering the question that hung unasked between them. "If it helps, I'd be happy to." Then, to prove he meant what he said, he shifted position so that he knelt in front of Squall and lifted his hands to the sides of the kid's face, both palms hovering near but not touching Squall's temples. That final step he left to the boy in front of him.

Squall simply looked at him for a moment, searching for any discomfort on Cloud's part; then, he smiled gently and placed his own palms against the backs of Cloud's hands. Their fingers intertwined as Squall brought Cloud's palms to rest on either side of his face and closed his eyes. Cloud knew the moment the other resumed his attempts at remembering, for the fingers that surrounded his tightened and the pressure on the backs of his hands increased.

"I … I can't seem to get anything about her," Squall said after a few silent minutes of trying, "but … I can see … ugh … I can see someone … else …"

Cloud released the breath he had unconsciously been holding. Seeing Squall suffer like this was painful for him as well, but he knew he couldn't show it. His companion needed him to be strong, unyielding, the rock to keep his footing level while he fought this battle on his own. So even though he wanted to just call an end to the whole thing, he swallowed thickly and said, "If you think it will help, even a little, try to get it." When only Squall's ragged breathing answered him, he encouraged further, "Who do you see? What does he look like?"

"Taller than me," Squall gasped, his hands shaking as they pressed Cloud's firmly against his temples. "Brown hair … long … really long. … Teachers keep … telling him to … cut it. … Says he won't. He's … wearing boots and … and jeans … and a cowboy hat. … He … smiles at everyone … especially the girls … and … and … Dear God, this hurts, Cloud."

"I know," Cloud replied, letting his head dip forward. "I'm sorry." Gently, he brought his forehead down to touch Squall's. The kid's skin was cold and damp, and Cloud could feel him shaking, the tremors passing from the smaller body into his via their three connection points. "You can take a break if you want," he suggested against his better judgment. "Get your breath back."

"No," the answer came with a small shake of his head. "I don't want to lose it. I can … I can see …" He sucked in a sharp breath and tightened his fingers so much that Cloud winced, but he bore the pain willingly. Compared to what Squall was experiencing, he knew that this was nothing.

"What do you see?"

"He's … he's yelling at me. … Really angry. … Because … because … she's gone … and … and I'm not showing it. … I'm worried, of course I am, but … I don't show it … because I just don't, and he's … he's … ahhh …"

At the little whining cry, Cloud bit his lip and closed his eyes. He knew which of the victims Squall was describing. The fourth one. The one whose girlfriend had been sitting at the table with Squall during his nightmare. Yet even though he knew, he couldn't help Squall break through this barrier. His knowledge was worthless; only his presence was of any help at this moment.

"Squall," he whispered, unable to keep the breathless prayer inside.

"I can see him, Cloud," Squall insisted. "I can see his face perfectly. But his name … I … I need his name and I can't … I can't … nnnggh!"

A giant shudder dislodged them, and Squall's forehead crashed against Cloud's shoulder as their hands fell apart and away. Squall's freed fingers clutched at Cloud's upper arms, searching for purchase against the bare skin. As for Cloud, he acted on pure instinct. His arms slid around the smaller frame, one wrapping around the boy's waist and pulling him close, the other sliding up his back to cradle his head in his hand. His heart thudded dully against his chest, hard and painful, as he laid his head on top of sweaty brunet strands and willed the name from his mind to Squall's.

The breath that rasped against his collarbone grew more even, but Cloud could tell that the body in his arms was still in unbearable agony. The sporadic violent shudders that had racked him previously had turned into one continuous shiver, accompanied by small whines and whimpers that Squall could not keep in as he exhaled. Gently, Cloud began to rock the boy back and forth in an effort to provide even a small bit of comfort.

Squall's voice whistled from between clenched teeth, a pitiful sound that brought actual tears to tightly-closed blue eyes.

"I … I … Ir … Irv …"

Cloud froze, his eyes flying open. He tightened his grip slightly as he held his breath.

"Irv … Irv … ine," Squall choked out, his body going suddenly rigid. "Irvine K … Kin … ne … as …"

He gasped softly, a final release of breath, and then collapsed against Cloud in an apparent faint. Bursting with relief and something like pride, Cloud tenderly arranged the limp body in what he hoped was a comfortable position with Squall's head in the crook of one arm and the rest of his torso spread across his lap. He had only just finished, however, when the boy stirred again, proving that he had not in fact passed out.

"Irvine Kinneas," he whispered, eyes closed in an expression of exhaustion.

"That's right," Cloud replied in an equal tone. "Irvine Kinneas." This time when the name passed his lips, Squall stayed solid in his arms, and Cloud couldn't help but smile. "He was the fourth one to disappear. The one right before you."

"Mmm," Squall hummed in agreement, not opening his eyes. "His parents were farmers. His father loved to hunt, so he was good with guns. Called his shotgun his first love. Was on the track team but otherwise didn't care much for sports. Good at composition, horrible at math." He paused, and Cloud was suddenly glad he hadn't opened his eyes yet. With them shut, he couldn't see the huge grin Cloud was sporting at Squall's sudden rush of information. "He was always joking, always smiling, but he liked to cultivate that loner attitude as well. He flirted with every girl in school but never asked any of them out. That is until he met …"

His voice trailed away. Slowly, Squall opened his eyes and gazed up at the turbulent sky above them. "Huh," he said.

"What?" Cloud asked him. He had managed to reschool his expression again and looked down at the boy in his arms with simple concern on his face.

Gray eyes turned to him, and Cloud was relieved to see that they were clear and calm. A little dazed perhaps from what their owner had just endured, but currently free of pain or stress. "I think I hit another block," Squall told him in an even, detached tone, "but this time there's no pain. There's just … nothing." His eyes unfocused for a brief moment in concentration, then focused on Cloud's face again. His lips curved into an apologetic smile. "Sorry," he said. "I don't think I can do any more tonight."

"Don't apologize," Cloud returned immediately. "You've done plenty." He allowed a little smile of his own to slip into his face as he admitted, "I don't think I could take it if you tried any more tonight."

Squall chuckled a little at that, a tired sound that rumbled up from his chest. "Still gotta do three more," he commented as his eyes fell closed again and his head tilted to the side, towards Cloud's shoulder. "Should get up," he murmured in a voice that sounded half asleep already. "Shouldn't make you … take care of me … like this."

Cloud snorted gently. "You're not making me do anything," he informed the other young man kindly. "I want to do this."

One bleary gray eye cracked open to gaze up at him. "Thank you, Cloud."

"You're welcome, Squall." He lifted his free hand and tenderly smoothed the boy's damp bangs away from his forehead. "Get some rest."

Squall made a little noise of acknowledgement and closed his eye once more. In only a few minutes, he was asleep in Cloud's arms. Cloud sat and watched him for what seemed like hours. His head buzzed gently with their recent success and the lingering pain from what they had gone through to achieve it, but that mixture of excitement, joy, and guilt was only part of a muted background in his mind. Instead, his thoughts were focused on the relaxed figure in his arms and the powerful sensations that he elicited from him. The affection that he felt was deeper than he ever thought possible, the desire to protect stronger than anything he had felt before. This was more than just infatuation; this was more than Florence Nightingale Syndrome. This was something that thrilled Cloud and terrified him at the same time.

Gently, Cloud laid Squall's body on the dry ground. He wished he could turn something into a pillow for his head, but there was nothing other than Squall's own shirt and Cloud didn't want to try getting that off while the boy was asleep. Forced to admit defeat, Cloud simply arranged him as comfortably as he could and then removed the pendant from around his neck. He didn't really want to leave while Squall was still asleep, but he didn't know how long he would be out nor did he know how long he could stay and still have it be nighttime when he woke. So he opened one of Squall's hands and placed the pendant in it, although he kept hold of the chain a little longer.

Several silent heartbeats passed. Cloud simply gazed at Squall's face, letting his thoughts float through his head without trying to analyze them. Then, in a moment of bravery, he leaned down and placed a small kiss on the boy's brow. With closed eyes, he shifted to place his forehead against Squall's once more, aligning their faces so their noses brushed. He would not say the words, not now, probably not for a long time, but he could think them. Could and would, because it felt right.

I love you.

Slowly, with their faces still touching, Cloud let the chain slip through his fingers.

Work the next day was extremely difficult. Cloud kept thinking about real-Squall and wondering what, if any, progress had been made. Several times he found himself holding his phone with Aerith's number on the screen, but he caught himself each time and forced himself to wait until after work hours. Time dragged like it never had before, but eventually, finally, he was walking out the doors and to his waiting bike. The desire to speed was very tempting, but he resisted. The last thing he wanted was to be pulled over and lose even more precious time.

When he got to the hospital, he bypassed the elevator and took the stairs two at a time. Before long, he was striding down the familiar hallway, approaching the door with its long-memorized number, and passing through the entrance into the room he knew as well as his own.

Once inside, Cloud's feet came to an abrupt halt, and his blood suddenly turned to ice. Aerith was the only one in the room, sitting in his usual chair which she had placed next to the empty bed. She was crying.

"Aerith," he whispered. All at once, movement came back to his body and he lunged across the room to kneel at her feet. "Aerith!" he said again, taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. "What happened?"

Her streaming green eyes widened when she saw him. "Oh, Cloud!" she cried, throwing her arms about his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. She began to cry again, this time harder.

Cloud felt a darkness begin to seep into his soul, felt his heart begin to crack. On their own, his eyes strayed to the empty bed and its neatly-made white sheets. It couldn't be. It simply couldn't be. He had left the kid asleep but stable, exhausted but very much alive. How could this have happened? And he had only just accepted that … . Grief began to overtake him, washing over his head and pulling him under to drown him in its depths. This was all his fault. He had tried to save the person he loved, and instead … . He would never forgive himself. Never.

But then, Aerith sobbed, "It's a miracle. A miracle!"

Cloud blinked, stunned for a moment into a blank stupor, then grabbed at the woman around his neck and pulled her away to look into her face. "What?" he demanded. "What do you mean?" Carefully, he examined her again, and this time he saw it. She was crying her eyes out, but there was a smile on her lips, a light in her expression. These were tears of joy, not heartbreak.

"Aerith," he said evenly, trying simultaneously not to get angry at her or too hopeful for her answer, "where is he?"

His friend opened her mouth to answer, but she stopped herself before she could, her eyes straying to the doorway. Expectantly, Cloud turned to look that way. He saw nothing, but he could hear someone talking, a familiar voice coming closer.

"Keep going straight. Just a bit more. Okay, we're here, stop. Turn left. That's right, good. The door's right in front of you, so go straight ahead. That's it. Don't trip."

Cloud watched, amazed, as Squall slowly walked into the room. His steps were small and careful, but he was making them without anyone there to hold or guide him. His open eyes stared sightlessly down at his feet as he walked, his bangs falling loosely in front of his face. As he passed through the door, he lifted an arm and found the wall with his hand, then began to follow it around the room.

"Watch out for the table," Vicky warned him as she bounced into the room after him. "It's a few steps in front of you."

In response, Squall lifted his other hand and held it out in front of him at about waist height. After a few steps, he touched the table with that hand and carefully altered his path to go around it. Grinning madly, Vicky tailed after him, giving him little vocal warnings whenever necessary but not touching him at all until he had made it back to his usual chair by the window and sat down in it. Then, she tackled him and gave him a huge hug.

"I knew you would get better!" she gushed. "I just knew it!" When Squall lifted his hands and pushed at her, she released him, laughing. "Okay, fine, no hugs. You're such a spoilsport." As she straightened, her eyes finally fell on Cloud, and her expression lit up even more. "Oh! Hi! When did you get here?"

Before Cloud could answer, Aerith placed a finger on his lips to tell him to keep quiet. She took a moment to wipe her eyes, then said, "Only a few minutes ago."

"Oh, okay. Are we gonna do … you know?"

Aerith smiled and nodded. Taking Cloud's elbow, she guided them both to their feet and led him over to Squall's side. Still too shocked and overjoyed to protest, Cloud let himself be positioned near the chair but too far away to touch. No one had told him anything yet, but it looked like their breakthrough the previous night had had extremely dramatic results. He could tell that Squall was still blind and he suspected that he couldn't talk yet either, but he could obviously hear, process, and respond to what was being said to him. It was, as Aerith had said, a miracle.

"Don't say anything yet," his dear friend whispered in his ear just before she pulled away. Still sniffling a little from her earlier crying, she walked over to stand by Vicky and asked, "So, Johnny, did you enjoy your walk?"

Squall, who had been staring out the window as he usually did, moved his head very slightly in her direction before moving it back. It looked to Cloud like an automatic reflex at her voice, followed by an intentional refusal to respond to the question. In other words, Squall was ignoring her, a fact that made him smirk and Vicky giggle.

"We sure did," the other nurse answered brightly. "We went down the elevator, then walked around the first floor a bit, visited the cafeteria, flirted with a couple cuties near the gift shop, then came on back."

"Really?" Aerith replied, her smile widening. "That sounds like fun."

"Yup! We had a blast, didn't we, Johnny?"

Squall absolutely refused to move his head towards either of them, signaling his disapproval of the conversation. Cloud didn't blame him. The kid was still in his hospital gown. While he, if he had been in Squall's shoes, would also have jumped at any chance to walk around after being trapped in a nonresponsive body for weeks, gown or no gown, he didn't think he'd appreciate being teased by a couple of nurses about it either. He wanted to come to the kid's defense, but Aerith had told him to keep quiet so he just rolled his eyes at them as loudly as he could.

Aerith noticed his reaction and smiled at him sympathetically. "Well, Johnny," she said in a more gentle tone, "now that you're back, I think you should know you have a visitor. Cloud is here."

The change was instantaneous. Squall's head moved towards Aerith's voice, and he rose from the chair to stand on his feet. His movements were still slow and careful, but Cloud could tell there was an urgency to them as well. If he had been in complete control of his body, the kid would have been up like a shot. In addition, even though his eyes were still completely dead, the rest of his face was not. His forehead lifted, his mouth opened slightly, and his whole face seemed to be alert and searching. Carefully, he extended one hand again, this time at shoulder level, looking for something that was promised but not yet found.

Cloud very nearly melted on the spot from a mixture of joy, pride, and affection. Not caring that there were two smiling females watching, he took a step forward and grasped that hand in his own. "Hey, kid," he murmured, not trusting himself to speak with any more volume. "How've you been?"

Gray eyes shifted to lock on his face as usual, but this time, there was more. Far more.

"He's smiling!" Vicky cried, clapping her hands together in delight. Then, she grabbed onto her co-worker and shook her as she said, "Look, Aer, look! He's smiling!"

"I see, Vicky," Aerith laughed. "I see."

The brief, beautiful smile didn't last long. At the women's voices, Squall's expression dropped into a scowl, and he turned his head away. He shook his hand out of Cloud's grip and let it fall to his side. A moment later, he was groping backwards, looking for his chair, and as soon as he found it, he sat back down, his head resolutely turned away from the females. The pure petulance in his expression made Cloud laugh.

"Don't worry, kid," he said. "Soon you'll be out of here and home with me, and we can leave your little fan club behind."

Squall just turned his head to look at him, his expression stating without words that that couldn't happen soon enough for him.

There were discharge papers to be filled out and instructions about Squall's care to listen to and dinner to be eaten at the cafeteria because it was just easier that way, and halfway through, Officer Zuckerman appeared with smiles and well-wishes and more last-minute paperwork, but eventually, Squall had changed into his white shirt and jeans and was being helped into a wheelchair so that Aerith could take him down to the first floor to be released. No one in the hospital was about to let a previously catatonic patient ride home on a motorcycle in the daylight much less the dark, so Zuckerman had offered to drive Squall to Cloud's house in his squad car. Cloud suspected the man had done it mainly to see the grateful blush on a certain pretty nurse's face, but he wasn't about to say anything that might jeopardize the much-needed offer.

By the time they were safely at the house and Cloud had seen Zuckerman off with many thanks, it was well past ten o'clock at night. Cloud knew that the next step was to take Squall around his house and let him learn through a combination of touch and being told where everything was, but considering the lateness of the hour, he wondered if he could put some if not most of that off until tomorrow. He had left Squall on the couch as he showed Zuckerman to the door, so he returned there and carefully sat down next to his new housemate. He hadn't really had the time yet to process that the kid was actually there, in his house, under his care, and now, even though he had the time, he didn't have the energy. He supposed, smiling tiredly, that he could put that off until tomorrow as well.

"Hey," he said, drawing those eyes to him, "you wanna just go to bed? I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. How about I show you your room and the path to the bathroom and we turn in for the night?"

Squall hung his head slightly and leaned his body into Cloud's in response. The nurses had discovered earlier that, while Squall could hear and respond to their questions, he still could not answer in conventional means. He couldn't speak, write, use sign language, or even nod or shake his head. Yet he still managed to make himself understood in less conventional ways, like right now.

Cloud chuckled. "All right. I noticed a voice mail message on the machine when I walked in, so let me get that and then we'll go upstairs." Gently, he shifted Squall's weight to the back of the couch and rose to get the phone in the kitchen.

There was only one message, the female robotic voice informed him, left while he was still in the hospital getting Squall checked out. Unconcerned, Cloud pressed the button to play it back.

"Cloud, this is Vincent. I need to talk to you immediately. It's extremely important. Call me back as soon as you get this message, no matter what time it is. I don't feel comfortable leaving the information on your voice mail, but I cannot stress enough how very vital it is that I talk to you as soon as possible. Call me."

The message clicked off and the robot began talking again, but Cloud barely heard her. Vincent had sounded extremely stressed in the message, almost on the verge of panic. It was so unlike the calm, quiet man he had met last weekend that it sent a shiver down Cloud's spine. Quickly, he hung up on his voice mail and dialed Vincent's number instead.

"Hello?"

"Vincent, it's Cloud."

"Cloud!" Vincent replied, sounding both worried and relieved. "Thank the gods." That made Cloud blink - most people only believed in one these days - but before he could say anything, Vincent was talking again. "Tell me, did you go ahead with your plan and push Squall on Thursday night to remember?"

"Yes, I did," Cloud answered. A smile slipped onto his face as he continued, "You should see the real one now, Vincent. He's moving around on his own, and he can understand what you're saying and respond back. He still isn't talking and he can't see, but -"

To Cloud's extreme surprise, Vincent cut him off with a low groan. "Oh, no," he breathed through the line into Cloud's ear. "That's bad, Cloud. That's really bad."

"Bad? Why?"

"Where is Squall right now?" Vincent asked instead of answering. There was an edge of actual desperation to his voice.

Cloud frowned. This was getting ridiculous, and frankly he was starting to get annoyed. "He's in the other room on the couch," he replied sharply. "What's wrong? Why are you freaking out?"

"Go get him right now. Don't take your eyes off of him for an instant."

"Vincent!"

"Do it!" the barked command came through the line, making Cloud jump.

"All right! I'm doing it!" he snapped back, turning on his heel and heading back the way he had come. "Now will you please tell me what the hell is going on?"

Vincent sighed softly, then explained in a quieter tone, "I finished reading the notes. I know what the spell is for now. But more importantly, I discovered that Kramer is still alive."

"That's ridiculous," Cloud protested as he exited the kitchen and entered his living room. "She died in prison. The family got her body back and gave her a funeral. It was in all the newspapers at the …"

Cloud's voice died away. His feet stopped walking. His eyes stared at the couch, at the little indentations in the fabric that said that someone had been there, someone who was no longer there. Slowly, his hand fell away from his ear, the phone still clutched in his fingers, Vincent's voice talking to him and fading away as the receiver dropped.

"Cloud, the woman was a practitioner. An extremely powerful one. It would have been child's play to fake her death. No, she's alive, and she's still connected to the spell. … Cloud? Did you hear me? Kramer is alive, and the more you break Squall out of the spell, the more likely it is that she'll come for him or you. … Cloud? Are you there? … Cloud? Cloud!"