Author's Note: Greetings my darlings! Welcome to the next, long awaited installment of Vengeance. I hope it is well worth the wait. I'm absolutely terrible. Honestly, I don't know how I have fans, because you guys are the best. Really. I love you.

Chapter 10

Laguna Loire moved to fall in at Squall's side the instant he sprang into battle mode, heart threatening to burst from his chest. To say things had gone from bad to worse was an understatement. It was more like they had gone from 'oh shit' to 'holy fuck, what just happened?'

He clenched his jaw. Much as he tried to make light of things in his head, there was nothing funny about their current situation. Nothing at all. Who did he think he was kidding? He'd just lost any shot he'd ever had of being something to that boy. Squall's life so far had been filled with nothing but people who lied to him and now, he was in the same category.

The betrayal in those beautiful blue eyes would stay with him 'til his dying day. A nightmare Laguna deserved to dwell in for eternity.

He would never forgive himself. Squall must hate his guts.

Almost as if to answer his thoughts, the young commander stiffened and threw a glance back over his shoulder. He only glimpsed his face for a second, but the disgust twisting his features made Laguna flinch.

"Get in my way Loire, and I can't promise you won't get burned. Stay out of it." His stance was rigid, but his voice trembled with quiet rage. Something had snapped in Squall, leaving something primal in its wake.

Maybe he was losing his mind, but Laguna was a little glad Squall had a target to blow all of his anger toward. Maybe in the long run it was what he needed to get his head on straight.

If they got out of this alive anyhow. Their prospects weren't looking very good.

Adel chuckled quietly to herself; director of the show, as Destin stepped forward, grim-faced. She seemed content just to stand by and enjoy the festivities. He doubted she'd jump in unless she absolutely had to, but he'd keep his eye on her. Just to be safe. Squall could hate him all he wanted, but that didn't mean he was going to stop protecting him.

He couldn't just stand here while this was happening. The boy was reeling from this new revelation. If he made a mistake he could be killed.

"I'm not junctioned, but I'm armed. I can-"

"Do you want to die? You haven't been in real time combat in over seventeen years. What do you think you can do? So help me, Loire. Back off. Or Adel isn't going to be the one you need to fear."

"She wants to kill you!"

Squall circled away from him toward Destin, gunblade angled in front of him expertly. "She can get in line. Don't insult me. I don't need your help."

Adel laughed again in the distance, standing up against the wall a few feet behind Destin. "Come, Laguna. Let the boys have their fun. Would you like a drink? Wine, perhaps?"

"Fuck you."

The tyrant shrugged, seating herself at a small folding table. It was so surreal, Laguna almost laughed. Instead he shuddered. Oh eww, that was a maggot poking out of her shoulder, wasn't it? Ugh. Gross.

What could he do? He was stuck. If he said one more word in protest, he wasn't positive Squall wouldn't physically turn on him, and much as he hated to admit it, his son was right. Laguna was hardly combat ready these days. He'd probably just get in the way. That didn't mean he would allow himself to wait complacently, however. He kept his rifle poised and a sharp eye on Adel. Even in that cheap folding metal chair, she sat with her back ramrod straight, poised like a queen. Honestly, he was surprised she'd dyne to stoop so low as to mingle with the mortals.

He guessed she'd make an exception, when said mortals were moving like chess pieces across her stage.

Squall and Destin circled each other with bated breath. Laguna was far from an expert at swordplay, and he knew even less about gunblades, but still, he thought Squall held the advantage starting off. Destin's sword arm looked a little shaky, and his footwork seemed off balance as well.

"Do you even know how to use that thing? The way you're handling it is pathetic." Squall swung Lionheart in an arch and Destin brought his katana up to parry, nearly stumbling backward from the weight of the other man's swing. Gunblades were heavy. That was why swords were generally outmatched by them; through sheer weight alone. That did, however, mean Destin might be quicker as well. Squall would have to be on his guard.

Sparks flew as steal clashed against steal for a second time and a third; Destin tried to catch Squall by surprise and feigned an attack at his middle, lunging for his legs instead, but the commander wasn't having it. He brought his blade down to block the blow and pushed Destin back, who stumbled and struggled to recover his feet. Not that Squall was giving him much time. He pressed the attack, movements little more than a blur. Heavy as Lionheart must have been, it didn't even seem to faze him. He swung it as if it were lighter than a phoenix feather.

Already it was plain to see that Destin was never going to one-up Squall this way. The young man was a master at his craft; a legend in his own right. Even government officials spoke his name in hushed whispers. He held a power and influence they could scarcely hope to touch, and they seemed to understand that.

It wasn't the swordplay Laguna was worried about. It was whatever Destin had hidden. If this young man was one of Adel's chosen children, he'd have some magical aptitude, right?

Laguna sighed. He could only guess. Ellone never said anything about him, nor had any of the others when he'd released them from their pods. There was no file on him either, but there had been a picture. Grainy and a little hard to make out. Laguna dismissed it as a child who died, but somehow, the sight had stayed with him. Even though it wasn't the best photograph, he could still see the terror in the child's odd green eyes. Now here he was, standing before them. How? Had he missed a pod release? Had he overlooked a bunker?

Where did she hide him?

Laguna was startled out of his musings by a muffled gasp. His head shot up to find that Squall had found an opening and managed to take a gash out of Destin's right arm. It didn't appear fatal, but blood oozed from it steadily.

Destin recovered his footing and faced the SeeD Commander, who curled his lip with contempt. "Pitiful. You're not a knight. Your skill is barely passable."

"You're right. I'm not. But I want to be. I want to be that for her."

"I want Rinoa back, but we can't always have everything, can we?" The pain in his voice lasted but a moment before it steadied, determined. "You don't even need that sword, do you? I don't know what you are, but I can feel the magic within. If I didn't know better I'd say you were a sorcerer. Are you?"

"I don't know. I was born this way. I was hoping you could tell me why."

From listening to this exchange, you'd think Destin had to be mocking Squall, but he wasn't. His tone was so painfully earnest, it was almost hard to listen to. Again, Laguna's heart went out to him. He couldn't help but feel that whatever fate had befallen this boy, it was probably his fault.

That was becoming a trend, really.

Squall's eyes narrowed, but he was done trying to figure him out. He advanced on him slowly, a lion stalking its prey. "I can't even rationalize my life. What makes you think I give a damn about yours?"

He lunged and once again, Laguna was bearing witness to a magnificent spark show, although clearly, Squall had been testing him before, because now his attacks were utterly merciless. He danced around Destin, so outmatched, the boy could hardly manage to bring his blade up quickly enough to parry.

Before long, Squall was twisting his wrist, ripping the sword straight from his opponent's grasp. He stood at the ready, poised to defend if his opponent got desperate and finally broke out his magic.

"You'll never be even a passable swordsman with an attitude like that. You lack all confidence. You face me as if you're afraid."

Destin smiled sadly. "I'm always afraid." He straightened a bit, sword all but forgotten. His eyes held a determination they had previously lacked. Laguna didn't know how his son felt about that, but it made him nervous.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to do this, but I can't let you pass."

Squall's face tightened, but he remained motionless, Lionheart at his side, left hand poised for casting. Laguna thought he saw him mutter a few incantations before a barrier flickered to life around him; shell. It wouldn't stop magical attacks completely, but it would lessen their affect.

"Come then. Stop playing and show me what you're hiding."

For once, the other young man gazed resolutely back at Squall, unflinching, though the melancholy that seemed to follow him like a cloud hung over him even still. "You're going to wish you hadn't asked me that, I think."

Destin's head lulled back, eyes rolling into his head, eerie blue-green light surrounding his form. It could have been a barrier of some sort, or perhaps he was simply summoning more magic than could be contained in any earthly body. In any case, supernatural light barriers were almost never good, so what did it matter anyway?

Laguna couldn't even begin to guess what sort of power he could be preparing himself to use, but Squall was not letting the opportunity pass. He paused for a second before clenching his hand in front of his face, muttering words Laguna once again, could not hear. The young commander was probably drawing power from whatever guardian forces he had equipped, and his suspicions were proven right as he passed that self-same hand in front of him, seeming almost in a trance.

"Shiva. Come to me."

He watched in awe as the beautiful guardian force shimmered into life, appearing from a cloud of ice shards, shining like diamonds. Her hair was a glorious blue-white cascading down her back; her eyes, such an unearthly shade it seemed a crime to describe their color. If pressed, he would say they'd been carved from sapphires and forged in the sky.

Wordlessly, the maiden swept a shimmering white cloak off her shoulders. Insubstantial as it seemed, she draped it reverently over Squall's shoulders, and it hung as if made for him. To Laguna's shock, he smiled at the ice goddess and touched her hand.

He would have given anything to hear their thoughts in that moment. To know what passed between them as they wordlessly gazed into each other's eyes. Simply guessing would never be enough, but it would have to suffice, he supposed.

Squall nodded to an unspoken question, an apology in his gaze.

The ethereal creature regarded the young man she served with warmth in her eyes, tracing a ghostly finger across his cheek before turning to their enemy.

Destin had gathered his own power, and stood watching them. Just watching. Not with malice, or even a degree of hostility, but with longing. Squall had clearly forged a deep connection with Shiva, and she with him. Laguna couldn't help but feel a bit of envy himself.

More importantly, however, he now emanated so much raw magic, his body was literally shimmering with it. He had removed his cloak and he stood with both arms hanging loosely at his sides, aura green and crackling around his lean form. His eyes wore that same fixed determination, though thin trails of blood leaked from the corners of them now.

Laguna flinched a bit as new barriers sprang to life around his own body; Squall must have strengthened his wards, which puzzled him under the circumstances.

Well. Angry as Squall might have been with him on a personal level, the fact remained that he was the president of a powerful nation. The young commander would never live it down if he died under his watch, no matter what the circumstances might be. That was what he assumed the explanation was, anyhow. It sure as hell wasn't because he cared about Laguna the person. Not now. Not that he blamed him in the least for that.

His head snapped back to the battle as Destin conjured a shimmering ball of white light in the palm of his right hand. What spell it was exactly, Laguna hadn't the foggiest idea, but Squall seemed visibly shocked to have seen it.

The young commander angled his gunblade defensively in front of him as Shiva braced for impact. "It takes even some sorceresses years to master such pure white magic. How? How could someone like you possibly cast Holy?"

"The elements call to me. I don't quite understand myself, but they're my friends. Isn't it the same for you and the white lady?" White lady? He must have meant Shiva.

Apparently Squall wasn't very keen on dignifying that with a response. He narrowed his eyes and threw Shiva a near imperceptible glance, and the maiden nodded an affirmative, dancing around him, conjuring an ice storm the likes of which he had never seen. Destin powered his spell even further and the ball of light doubled in size and before Laguna's eyes. The young man then raised his left palm as well. A second spell shimmered to life.

His eyes widened. This one he recognized. Flare.

He watched in growing horror as Destin raised his arms above his head. The two spells formed as one…a sphere of gorgeous hell-fire, engulfed in an eerie white light. Holy Flare? Oh.

Well, shit.

Poor Shiva never stood a chance. Her storm of ice shards whipped around Destin, leaving minuscule cuts all over his face, down his arms, his legs…but they were largely superficial. She was able to shield Squall from a majority of the blast, but only just, and before his eyes, the beautiful guardian force cried out in pain before exploding into dust. Just as suddenly as she appeared, she returned from whence she had come. Wherever that was, anyway.

He knew she wasn't gone forever, but all the same. It struck him as unbearably sad. How such a magnificent being could find herself so horribly outmatched was just surreal, especially when she was, for all intents and purposes, Squall's familiar.

The force of the spell sent both Squall and Laguna flying backward violently, Laguna just barely avoiding knocking himself into next week against the cold stone wall. When his ears stopped ringing and his eyes re-adjusted, he picked himself up off the floor to find Squall doing the same, albeit with a nasty looking gash taken out of his cheek and a very slight limp. His jacket and pants were singed nearly beyond repair, and Squall shrugged out of it in one smooth motion, yanking the gunblade out of the ground within the very next breath.

With all haste, he hurried forward in a zigzag, hurling spell after spell at Destin in an effort to unbalance him enough to give himself an opening. The other man merely deflected them with considerable ease, which was saying something, to be sure. Squall was no sorcerer, but his skill was remarkable all the same. His magic in the final battle to save their world had been powerful enough to stand up against Adel's and even Ultimecia's, or so Laguna had been told.

Destin, evidently weary of just deflecting, hurled his own spells with impressive speed, imitating Squall's zigzag motion to catch the young commander off guard. Laguna also noted with intrigue that the young man was casting without uttering a single word. Fire, water, thunder, ice: all in rapid succession. Squall managed to dodge around each one and when he got close to Destin's form, swept his blade in a wide arc toward him.

A grave mistake, he would soon find.

Destin waved his arm and unleashed a powerful wind in his wake, sweeping Squall off his feet before he had a chance to realize his mistake. The spell had come more quickly than Destin's other attempts, which was undoubtedly why Squall was so taken off guard. Perhaps Destin had been timing his other spells deliberately to mislead him?

Bad. This was very bad. Damn it! He couldn't just stand here and watch any longer! Laguna hefted his gun and stood, ready to offer his assistance and buy Squall a little time to recover when he heard Adel cackle from her place by the wall. And cackling, in his experience, was never good.

At first, he didn't understand why. But when he heard Squall's strangled gasp from where he crouched on the floor, the President of Esthar's face broke out in a cold sweat. With growing trepidation, he glanced back at Destin-

And felt his jaw drop open in shock.

The young sorcerer was floating a few feet off the ground.

Suspended by a beautiful white pair of angel wings.

Squall remained frozen, transfixed by what he saw, and horrified as Laguna was, he had the presence of mind to rush out to his son's side, placing himself as a human shield in front of him.

He couldn't read Destin's expression as he extended a hand once more, though his eyes remained expressive as always.

Tears stood in them. And it was with pity that Destin conjured a shimmering ball of lightning and extended it toward them. He expected pain, though in the end, received none. Laguna's body merely spasmed for a moment or two before collapsing to the floor right beside Squall's, who fell facing him.

His expression had fallen blank under whatever paralysis had been cast upon them, but his eyes were wild with panic; panic, sorrow and even regret.

Laguna could almost hear the young man's thoughts: I'm sorry. All I do is mess up. I'm a failure.

He longed to reach out to him in those moments, but contented himself with gazing right back, hoping to Hyne or whatever the fuck was up there that something of his own emotion would be displayed in his own eyes.

It's not your fault. You didn't fail anyone. That was me.

It has been me all along.

Yeah. We've established that I'm a bad person. Sorry.

It has been awhile since I've written a fight scene. That being said, I wanted to make sure this one didn't sound fake, forced and corny, and I like the result. I think. Speaking of, I don't actually think I saw anyone use Holy in Final Fantasy VIII, but since it exists in the series as a whole I'm going to use it anyway. Because I can.

Anyway, I always love to hear from you so if you have an extra minute or two, I'd love to hear your comments and opinions, good or bad. Once again, you're all awesome. Thanks for sticking with me!