A/N: Hey guys! First off I'd like to give huge thank you's to the reviewers of last chapter. It definitely was a hard one to write, hurting Squall so much and all—and on his BIRTHDAY! I'm such a bitch!

CB Shipper—I hope you don't hate me! But I have to say I am proud for being able to bring out such strong emotions from you!

-92icecold—Thank you so much for that really nice review. It really meant a lot to me thank you and glad you like my story plot. And if it was humanly possible I would love for this to be like a screenplay for something like FFVII Advent Children. But alas…

Lionheart1—Sorry I made you look away from the screen! But that means I'm doing my job! *insert evil laugh*

Second, huge apologies for this being super late and short, I'm going back to school and paperwork has smooshed my writing muse. Anyways…on with the story lovies!

xxx

All around her she felt warmth, soothing and silky warmth that encased her like a robe. Rolling over her skin were soft feathers, dancing as if blown by a gentle breeze. One single feather rested in her locks, thin white tangled beneath inky black. As she tried to separate it from her hair, she heard soft crackling, like the sounds ice cubes make when liquid is poured over them. She ignored the feather and felt herself being pulled towards the sound.

The air around her seemed to pulsate, seemed to caress over her body like warm, loving, tendrils of waves. Her steps were slow, heavy, and unbalanced, almost as if her body was struggling to move on its own. Her arms felt limp, held out loosely to either side as if attached by a string. Like a marionette doll, she found herself half walking half stumbling towards the crackling noise that called to her.

When she approached it her eyes scanned over in awe at the icy wall before her. Slowly she reached for it, almost in a trance by this ice barrier. But before she could trail a finger over the hairline crack in the ice, she could see another face behind the ice.

On the other side of the ice barrier stood a woman with shining black hair and frail skinny fingers reaching towards the ice. Their movements nearly mirrored each other's, lips moving in confusion almost identically. Together they placed their palms onto the ice, eyes locked as words flew from mouth to mouth.

"Who is doing this?" one whispered. "Who is hurting your children?"

"My children," the other murmured, as if to herself. "Your children, your sisters, yourself. Who is hurting me?" Slowly she curled her fingers, claws screeching over the surface. "It is someone from your past," she told her. "A brief encounter, an argument. Sometimes things that were thought to be so trivial have the most drastic effect."

Both frowned, palms pushing harder against the ice, ignoring the cracks and pops from the barrier.

"Break through," one said, cracks splintering up the surface of the ice from the points of her fingertips.

"Release it?" said the other.

"Wake up," they said together, pressing harder onto the ice, pushing it towards the other. The cracks deepened and shot further up the panes. A deep crimson seeped up through the cracks, stark and beautiful against the ice. With a piercing howl from the open jaws, the ice exploded into shimmering red rain.

xXx

Squall gently caressed Rinoa's arm. He was leaning forward from his chair, his head nestled into the crook of his arm, his face just inches away from Rinoa's pillow. Silently he watched her calm and steady breathing, listened to the rhythmic beeping of her monitors. His eyes burned with consequence of little to no sleep. He knew his eyes must be bloodshot to hell.

Tenderly he laced his fingers with hers. "Please," he whispered. "Please wake up." I want to hear your voice again, he thought. Even if it's just to yell at me.

Inwardly he berated himself, criticized that he should have known, should have been more aware about his surroundings when it came to her. Over the past two weeks she had been turning away from him more, always offering him her back. She made sure to change in a room separate from him. And even though she had already had clothes, she went out and bought new tops and blouses that were more modest—even though those said clothes were not low cut at all. He chalked it up to the fact that they were trying to take things slow, and that she was trying to help them both out by attempting to remove any temptation by concealing her delectable flesh. With a groan he rubbed his eyes. Of course that's what he had thought. Leave it to you to think with your cock, he muttered to himself. After all, Rinoa only does things that pertain only to you and not to her whatsofuckingever.

After another hour of kicking himself, Squall bent his head down and sighed. He moved his hand from hers and rested it softly onto her stomach. "Please wake up," he whispered again.

Gentle fingers glided over his hair, softly stroking. He raised his head to find Quistis handing him a cup of water. Quietly he thanked her, taking the glass from her fingers and sipping slowly.

"You need to rest," Quistis whispered.

Squall shook his head as he lowered the glass back into her hands. "No, I want to be here when she wakes up. I don't want her to think she's alone."

Slowly the woman beside him nodded. Affectionately she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a smile for encouragement. "She will wake up," she said. "And she'll be the same as she was before. Her being infected hasn't stopped her yet."

He tilted his head up, his eyes catching hers for a sharp moment. "You knew." It wasn't a question, nor was it an accusation, but his eyes lashed at hers with a fury she hadn't seen in years.

Quistis swallowed, drawing back her hand as she firmly nodded. "Before you get angry," she said, "would you rather have heard it from me or from her?" He didn't answer, and instead lowered his head back into the fortress of his folded arms.

Without another word Quistis turned and left, gently closing the door behind her. Down the corridor she saw Kadowaki and briskly walked to catch up to her, almost rhythmically tapping her fingernails along the empty glass cup. "How is it going with the traitor in Caraway's military?" she asked when she reached the doctor.

Kadowaki sighed, her voice grumbling in frustration. "He refuses to talk. Apparently whoever he's working for frightens him more than Caraway does. There has to be something that would get him to talk."

Quistis grinned and paused in her tracks, her hand out to halt the doctor. "I've got an idea. But we need Rinoa awake to do it. Come with me," she whispered, tugging Kadowaki down the hall.

xXx

Rinoa opened her eyes slowly, briefly wincing away from the fluorescent light of the infirmary. With a muffled groan she sat up, her body stiffening at the sound of a gun cocking before her. Calmly she turned her head to see Irvine aiming his trusted shotgun at her, his finger steady at the trigger. The look on his face was calm and stoic, a quite frightening view from the other end of the barrel.

"Forgive me," he told her, his voice thick and low within his throat. "Just taking precautions since the last time you woke up from a coma you were a tad hostile."

Rinoa swallowed at the sharp reminder of the scientists Ultimecia had murdered while possessing her body to release Adel. She gave Irvine the finger and began to unhook herself from the monitors. "Not now cowboy," she muttered. "I feel as if I've got a hangover. Put that shit away before I jam it down your fucking throat."

Irvine smirked and released his finger from the trigger. "Nice to see you too, m'lady," he said, setting his shotgun off to the side.

Rinoa sighed and moved her eyes towards the window. "How long have I been out?" She glanced down at her hospital gown and peeked downward, scowling as she saw that the black veins were nearly at her collarbone.

"Few days."

Without lifting her head, she asked, "Edea?" When Irvine didn't answer she turned towards the nightstand. She ran her fingers over the silver chain and the two rings and shut her eyes tightly, her lips pressed together to suppress a sob. "Where's Squall?"

"At home." With a deep breath Irvine crossed his arms over his chest. "How are you feeling? Besides the whole 'hangover' bit?"

Rinoa swiped the covers from her body and swung her legs over the edge. "Get out. I need to change. I need to get home to Squall."

Irvine raised his hands to shield his eyes as she began tearing at her hospital gown. "Hey now, hang on. In a minute. Kadowaki wanted to see you before you leave."

"Not now," she nearly growled. "Get out. I need to get home to Squall."

Irvine stood to his feet and placed a hand on the doorknob. "Trust me, he's passed the fuck out. We had to drug him to get him away from the hospital."

Before Rinoa could glare at the cowboy to see if he was serious, he had already left, firmly shutting the door behind him.