Author's Notes – Sorry for the gross delay. Took a little longer to get past a few blocks than I would have liked. Hopefully I'll get back into the swing of things with regular updates like before. :)

-—-

Chapter XXXV – For All the Bad

I felt like I was now intruding in the moment I'd created. Fleeing the room was not an option — nor was even budging an inch, for that matter. I could feel the bile scorching the back of my mouth, barely subdued with a gulp when I could feel my stomach take up residence in my throat.

"Allison knows I'm a third generation CET case." Squall curtly stated. "Is this old information or do you two need to talk?"

I could have sworn that I saw my father blink in confusion for a second there.

"It was the catalyst for my suspicions." he answered. "When Allison initially explained why she wanted to bring you here, she'd said that the researchers had traced your blood samples to past CET cases but knew no particulars beyond that. The possible connection had only crossed my mind when she'd told me your legal and preferred names afterward. Your grandmother giving birth to your mother in Dollet had garnered a fair bit press back in the day."

"I see. Was keeping her in the dark for her benefit or yours?"

"Squall." I interrupted with a firm tone, despite how dry my mouth now was.

It didn't take a genius to see that he was deflecting again. And while I knew it was not my place to dictate to him what he should want out of a potential information source, I also knew that no good would come out of him deliberately goading my father out of misplaced hurt.

By some miracle, he caught my gaze and kept silent in this moment. Whether he'd stop altogether was up for debate but…it was better than the alternative.

"Neither."

I hadn't expected my father to answer him though, never mind be frank. We both looked his way.

"Your parents were good people with terrible luck." he prefaced. "They couldn't get legally married because they had not transitioned and only your mother had your grandmother to give consent but your father had no one. If I remember correctly, he transitioned and turned towards the latter end of your mother's pregnancy with you."

I was half-expecting Squall to bark at him to get to the point right now, but I heard nothing outside the tight, rhythmic cadence of the breaths entering and leaving his body. I wanted to place a reassuring hand on his knee or just something, but…I knew it would make things worse so I stilled my arms. My father continued after a slight exhale of his own.

"My independent searches could not find references to your mother in any medical journal or any public inquiries related to the incident, nor could I find other cases of still-pregnant transitioners. Logic would suggest that it would have been beneficial to confer with Allison considering the number of dead ends but…pride often supersedes logic."

"Pride?" I parroted.

"Raine was a very close childhood friend but after what happened, she started to drift away from me and everyone who knew her back then. Last time I'd seen her was when she'd made an unexpected appearance at my wedding." he sombrely explained, eyes now fixed on a patch of counter in front of me instead on either of us. "…Part of me has always wondered if I could have prevented this from happening. Another part concedes that the only way this would have happened is if I hadn't met your mother. Then she wouldn't have helped Raine get a job at the lounge she played at where we eventually met Squall's father."

"…In other words, I'm the reason you lost a close friend." Squall supplied in a purposely-clipped tone, making my stomach shift around some more for extra discomfort and my throat drier than it already was. My father pursed his lips and shook his head, finally maintaining some modicum of prolonged eye contact in Squall's direction.

"No. You're the reason why I have a wife and daughter." he matter-of-factly answered.

And as the old saying went - what goes up, must come down.

"With my background, I had never planned on having children, never mind a relationship with someone who had not transitioned for that matter. Seeing what happened to your parents convinced me that this was a wise course of action but… the words your mother had said shortly after going through transition and losing everything had stuck with me then. She'd told me, 'There is no wisdom to be gained from experiencing a tragedy like this. The reality is that the odds were just as good for all the bad to have never happened. If you love someone and the timing is wrong, whether you chase it anyway or wait for the timing to be right… both are valid decisions. So is the decision to change your mind later. Life is too short and ugly as it is to create unnecessary headaches.'"

"-Unnecessary headaches? That… seems like a bit of an understatement." Squall commented.

"For her to say something like that would be nothing out of the ordinary." he explained. "She was as pragmatic as they came. Not one to talk about her own problems but always there to help when you needed it. Even though her words were not directed at me personally and even validated my decision, it eventually led me to change my mind. I am thankful to her for what I would have never had otherwise but…I would be lying if I said that pride hadn't prevented me from deliberately blocking out the words since Rinoa's mother had passed. Being reminded of the extent of my failures is not pleasant. Nor is the added burden to do right by an old friend but…perhaps it is now necessary to recognize that this pride is still keeping my daughter from what she needs most and that it's not me."

Squall didn't immediately respond to my father's statements for a change. Mostly because I was certain that he was now pre-occupied with the fact I was blinking so hard that my whole face was scrunching up in a weak effort to keep my eyes from becoming glassy.

It didn't matter that he was right, that this was the most I'd heard him talk in 15 years or that our relationship had soured because of his pride and inability to let go of the past was always at odds with my stubbornness - the anger couldn't temper the pity and sadness I could feel bubbling underneath the surface. Nor could the pity and sadness sink the anger. It would be so much simpler to pick one emotion because then I'd actually say or do something in response instead of just percolating with thoughts and emotions in my chair and making things worse and awkward in the process.

"There's a difference between not being needed and being needed in a different capacity than you're used to." Squall told my father, regaining his usual tone without warning. "…Because of the situation, Ellone more-or-less acted like my older sister. Didn't matter that I'd surpassed her in size or we had found evidence that the date of birth on her records might have been altered to make her seem older than she was, it took her a long time to accept that her role changed and that I was capable of helping too."

Though what he said could have been pulled straight out of a feel-good movie, I couldn't be bothered to continue the conceit - or take a page from past Squall for that matter - by economically crying a single tear. No, I started to snivel and it took him and my father two seconds to notice once the volume increased in spite of my efforts to stop it. I tried to dam the flow with blinks hard enough to glue my eyelashes together but, it was just no good. With no other quick option to save face, I turned to slide off my chair to the left and-

I could feel a hand on my shoulder now – I'd turned around to see that Squall had wedged himself in between both chairs in the moment it took for me to vacate mine. Then he looked at my father.

"I'll go downstairs to gather the supplies Allison packed and bring them up here." he quietly said to him.

"But you'll…"

He lifted his grip on me and just left before I could say any more about what he was undoubtedly already aware of. Knowing I wouldn't be able to make him stay, I didn't put up a fight. Instead I rubbed my eyes until they were as dry as they were going to get and, slowly but surely, I slinked back into my seat. It took a while for me to look up, however.

And it took my father awhile to do the same. Even still, it didn't look like he was going to break this budding stalemate any time soon. Swallowing the lump in my throat after a solid minute had passed, I took the slightest of stabilizing breaths.

"…I guess we have more in common than I used to think." I said. "Never would have thought you let me stay there all these years because you got why I was staying despite everything blowing up in my face and left me to figure out myself."

"Seeing you repeat my mistakes would have served more as impetus to bring you home, not leave you there." he frankly responded. "Had Nurse Bear not been keeping an eye on you, I would have been more insistent on getting you to check yourself out of the facility."

"…Fair enough." I conceded with a light sigh. "…I do think Squall's right though."

"Raine-incarnate is what he is. His appearance, mannerisms, tone …it's like revisiting old memories."

"Well… he can be both things." I pointed out. "…And I think we shouldn't waste the time he not-so-subtly gave us here."

"I'm…aware."

I could count the number of times I'd heard that kind of faltering tone on two fingers now. The sudden chill I felt gliding over my skin? Not really something I could or wanted to count. Still, I tried not to dwell on that - I needed all the momentum I could get to try and go on a completely different tack altogether.

"Dad, the past is what it is." I plainly told him, wasting no time from the initial thoughts in my head to the words rolling off my tongue. "I'd be lying if I said this was how I wanted everything to go but…I understand why it happened the way it did. Whether it makes you shut people out or keep a stranglehold on them…grief expresses itself the way it wants to and sometimes it changes things when it's too hard to fight against it. I know that much because I'm just as guilty of this as you are. I…"

The words were failing me after the slight movement of his forearms on the countertop towards himself threw me off, signalling to me that my window was closing. If only I was as ticked off as I was earlier because then my brain wouldn't be spinning its wheels, suddenly overcome with this want – no, need - to make this easier, nicer or more neatly packaged so much. Damn it all, I…

"-I can't promise that this won't be the last time we'll see each other." I found myself saying like puppet a ventriloquist was talking through, not sure if my audience was still there after wasting another eternity of a second. "But I… I want you to know that it means a lot that you're trying your best to fight against it to do this for me to give me a second chance. And that's what matters most."

It didn't escape me that he slid his forearms back to where they were or that it was somehow putting me on edge.

"Considering you never handled goodbyes well I had expected you to sugar coat things out of fear that they would be the last words you'd speak to me." he commented. "This? I never would have anticipated this. And quite frankly, I should have."

The words weren't angry or sad-sounding, just spoken with the quiet assurance of stating facts in a situation where proving a point wasn't the end goal. At any rate, my ears perked up.

"Your grandparents told me about the lineage the moment they thought I could understand the concept and have the common sense not to reveal the secret. As much as I understood the rationale, the anxieties and burdens with carrying the weight of that knowledge as a young child turned me into a shell of who I'd been. I never wanted that for you – especially when it became evident I saw so much of who I used to be in your personality." he began. "This compounded with the grief of what happened to your mother…it made it harder to accept that I was no better by setting you up for failure. What I also failed to realize is that for all the things we have in common, you are not me."

I didn't say anything in response. Then again, I was certain that I wasn't supposed to either.

"I may have set you up to fail but you have done everything but – you persevered where I would have buckled and you're continuing to do so. What you experienced could have shattered your world and destroyed your humanity in the process. But it didn't. Squall being here and seeing you actively look out for his well-being while not obligated to do so tells me that much." he explained. "And that is why I shouldn't have been surprised by the fact that you can look me square in the eye and pull no punches and yet tell me you are thankful for the second chance, despite how many years I've squandered away."

"…I'm still not very good at goodbyes but I figured that saying things you'd see through is a waste of time." I admitted. "And honestly, I would have missed out on learning so much if I tried to smooth things over with platitudes so I'm glad I said what I did."

"Even though I wish it had been under different circumstances, you've matured Rinoa." he quietly told me, remaining still for a solid moment before ultimately getting up from his seat behind the countertop. "I have to go prepare a few arrangements - you should go check up on Squall. The last thing we need is him becoming seriously-ill before your trip with Allison."

"-Oh. Right. I guess I should."

He waited before I'd crossed the threshold of the room completely before I could hear so much as a chair leg squeak or a single footstep against the hardwood floor. I…shouldn't have been surprised by that.

-—-

It didn't matter how many times I've seen it before, I nearly did a double take when I spotted Squall with jet-black-hair as he was putting some of my things in the duffel bag beside his already-zipped one on the couch I'd slept on in the rec room. I must have let out a gasp that didn't register because he immediately looked my way. Naturally, his eyes were now cloudy-grey and his lips were pursed. I took a few steps closer.

"…May I?" I offered.

"It's fine - almost done already."

"Not that." I pointed to his face. "Your hair is black, your eyes are grey and your face is green. May I put my hands somewhere you're ok with so Allison and I won't have to worry about you on our upcoming road trip to the secret base?"

He slowly pulled the zipper of the bag closed. "…I was expecting a punch to the face. Or some kind of terrible pun."

I shook my head. "I'd never punch someone who meant well. Besides, it's not like I couldn't have walked out with you if I really objected to the idea. And honestly, not really in the mood to pun for once."

"That bad?"

"No, it…actually went as well as it could. I learned a few things I probably wouldn't have otherwise." I told him, sitting right beside the bags. "I thought I was seeing progress with him being as open as you can be with so little time but then he just…I don't know, clammed up. I guess you could argue about not having time but something tells me he was going to say something else and abandoned it at the last second."

He unceremoniously tossed both bags to the other couch with a resounding thud. "And that's bothering you."

"Yeah, I guess it is even though I know it's not realistic to expect a major change like that without some hitches. Or it could have been possible that he cut himself off because he didn't want to start something he couldn't fully start and finish within the time we had too. Or maybe that I was just seeing things - who knows?"

"Knowing what's realistic doesn't preclude you from experiencing disappointment. It still happens." Squall pointed out, taking the space where the bags once occupied. His eyes looking especially-pensive with the grey irises. "But…if he's anything like I think he is, I wouldn't take it personally that he shut you out. When you're used to pulling up walls…it's hard to be vulnerable – instinct tells you to retreat, even with the people you care about."

"Thank you. I really needed to hear all of that." I told him in earnest. "After everything that happened upstairs, I would have spent a lot more time second-guessing myself without getting some outside confirmation. It's good to know I'm not alone in still feeling disappointment despite knowing better too. Well, not good-good, just…reassuring, I guess."

"…Knew what you meant." he said. "…If it helps any, assume most behaviours we think are unique to us…aren't. Usually goes unnoticed because people…they don't pay attention to much outside themselves."

"Considering the patterns I've seen in the Center, that sounds just about right." I agreed with a slight nod. "But speaking about paying attention to things, I hope you won't fight me when I'm going to re-ask if I can help you now. You're starting to sound like you're fighting the urge to puke when you talk."

'Honestly…wasn't going to.'

'It must be bad if you're sending that instead of talking. Should I get a bucket?'

'It's not necessary.'

"Ok." I made a point to say that out loud. "Let me know if you change your mind, alright?"

When he nodded, I used that as the signal to do what I needed to do so I couldn't give my brain's warring thoughts a proper chance to interfere. I scooted myself closer and turned just enough so I could slip my hands underneath his shirt hem and his left arm too, placing my right hand on his lower back and the other on his hip so I wouldn't make his nausea worse. I wasn't so sure I was succeeding in that respect considering the look on his face though and the sharp exhale I could feel upon contact along with some slight shifting.

"Still ok to be bucketless?"

'Yes.'

"You sure?" I pressed. "You kinda went twitchy there."

'I'm sure.' he reiterated though I could feel the movement of another breath escaping him underneath my fingertips. 'I'm still not used to pain… subsiding this way.'

I slowly shifted the hand on his back to be closer to the one on his hip so I could sit a little more upright.

"So…is the experience different as a whole or is it just the speed that makes it feel weird? I don't feel anything special on my end."

'…The pain feels like it's being siphoned out and my body doesn't acclimate to the absence of it fast enough at times. Almost like it comes in waves.'

"Kinda like the blood sugar crash after you pull a tooth out?"

'Something- -like that.'

That slight pause and large wince interrupting what he'd sent made me feel uneasy. On a whim, I gingerly slid my left hand against his stomach to see if changing up the location, lightness of touch and amount of skin contact made a difference. He didn't wince but it didn't seem to have a positive effect either. If I didn't know any better, it almost looked like he was zoning out.

"…Are you having another crash?"

He looked as if he was about to nod but didn't make the motion. I moved my right hand so it was flush against his back now and it made no difference or garnered any response either. My stomach iced over.

"It's not the pain relief that's catching you off guard. It's the pain, isn't it?" I ventured. The still-blank look on his face and the lack of change in his colouring was making it hard to tell if it was a guilty silence or not. "Is it worse than you're letting on? Please, I won't judge."

"Neither. I was…just thinking."

…Well, seems like I was the one who was caught off-guard. Couldn't say I wasn't relieved about that though.

"Ok. Mind sharing?"

He gently took both of my hands and moved them off of him. My first instinct was to put them back where they were, or at least back on his left hip, but considering the possibility that he could be ready to bolt to the bathroom, I reconsidered.

"Finally change your mind or just trying to save me from getting mega kinks in my arms?"

"Those options aren't mutually-exclusive."

"Touché, but I'm pretty sure you knew what I meant. So anyway… I'm assuming this has to do with the fact you're ok to talk to me instead of sending things now?"

"I alternated between being sick and brushing my teeth more than I packed when you were upstairs. Buckets aren't necessary when there's nothing in your stomach. Sending thoughts was an unnecessary precaution if anything."

"And my help? Was that unnecessary too?" I asked, genuinely curious and hoping that my tone reflected that. He nodded.

"That was what I was thinking about." he answered. "Wasn't planning to ask for help because I could get by and function until proximity eased symptoms - I only accepted your offer because I wasn't in the mood to fight you. It didn't occur how my words could have been interpreted until now."

I put my feet on the couch cushion and turned to face his side, legs crossed shortly after. "I wasn't worried about that. I was, well, happy you accepted my help for once." I told him. "But…maybe I should be asking if you felt anything strange this time around since we're having this discussion."

"This might become a problem if you insist on helping for every inconvenience." he admitted. "Nothing happened when you eased the fever from this morning but I feel like I downed a large coffee after running on no sleep right now. None of my restless episodes at the Center felt like that. I can't tell if this is an adverse effect or coincidence."

"Well… if I wanted to play Devil's advocate, you did literally down a large coffee on next to no sleep." I said in what I hoped sounded like a wry tone. "At any rate, think you can fire trick that away?"

He shook his head. "I…haven't been able to that since we got here."

"Weird. Did you feel off or notice anything different when we were holding hands today?"

He paused for a good couple of seconds of deliberation, then shook his head again.

"Alright. Well, if you're ok with it, can we pick up where we left off for a few minutes to get in a better position to rule out coincidence? I think it might help to at least have an apples-to-apples experience since I had my hands on your back for a lot longer than just now. After this, we can have some kind of agreement not to do this unless we run it by Allison if that makes you feel better."

His expression turned guarded and I just had this feeling that the silence had more to do with how he was going to turn me down and explain why that was a bad idea rather than weighing options. I mean, I was kind of running my mouth and I couldn't blame him for taking my hands off if the coffee analogy was just that - an analogy. I knew how good that rush of caffeine hitting your tired blood felt but I also knew that it was no substitute for actual rest. You'd either crash later or paid in some way or another when you tried to extend the effects.

"Go ahead."

I blinked. "Oh. You sure?"

"You had a point. Having a comparable experience will help us figure out what it is."

"…Ok. …Ok, so can you turn to the right so your back is facing me?"

Squall nodded and did just that. Once he was turned, he sat with his arms crossed and resting on his also-crossed legs, his upper body noticeably hunched over. With upper arms practically glued against his sides, his position didn't allow for the option to roll up my sleeves and hug him short of forcefully wedging my hands in.

So without fanfare or other options, I warmed up my hands by rubbing them together and slipped them underneath his shirt, eventually resting my palms well above the small of his back so I could more readily notice changes in his breathing. If he was surprised at his shirt hem suddenly hiking up he didn't show it, which made things seem very promising already.

He was still a little warm to the touch, sure, but the lack of gasps, shudders or anything along those lines told me that I wasn't shocking his body with relief like before. I hoped it meant that I was having a similar effect to the tests this morning but I tried to remain cautiously optimistic. As much as I didn't want to consider it, there was the possibility that he could be trying his best to subdue any reactions he was having.

After about five minutes had passed without any noticeable change or any words spoken on his part, I decided to take a page from earlier-me's playbook to see if the assumptions would hold elsewhere. I quickly slid my hands downward and towards his sides to retake the original spot by his hips from earlier. He tensed some but I think that owed more to do with how fast my hands moved more than anything else. Or at least I hoped.

"You ok?" I asked.

"-Yeah."

"You sure? You sound really zapped."

"I threw up anything I ate today, had nearly no sleep and the caffeine's wearing off. I think that would be expected."

My heart did a somersault. "Is this your way of saying…?"

I couldn't even finish my sentence but I could see his head bob up and down with a nod.

"…Your devil's advocate position from earlier was right. It wasn't you, I'd…made a premature assessment."

"Oh, you don't know how glad that makes me Squall. You really don't. I'd hug you right now but I don't want to make you sick."

Nothing was said after that but I noticed that my fingers were no longer brushing against his elbows like before. While he didn't do anything drastic like taking my hands and wrapping them around him, it was a large-enough gap to thread my arms through. Was it an invitation or coincidence now that he wasn't practically doubled over from the nausea? This morning was difficult on the both of us and lot of hugs were freely given and taken, yes, but that didn't mean it meant he was open to it now. But try telling that to my stupid heart busy playing gymnast now.

When he suddenly righted himself and looked like he was about to turn 90 degrees so he could get off the couch entirely, I pre-emptively moved my hands off him before he could do the honors for me; I even went as far as sitting on them so I wouldn't do anything stupid.

Then he did a 180 instead. "…If you want to, you can. It's the least I can do after what you've done for me today."

While I smiled at the kind gesture, at the same time, I also knew I had to stop him right there.

"What I did today is something I wanted to do, not a favor to be repaid." I told him. "I know I what just said implied the opposite but…if you're gonna let me hug you, it better be because you want me to – not just because I wanted to, ok?"

"I understand. Just don't whine when I hold you to your word later."

Not that I really expected him to but, I was honestly glad he didn't fight me on this.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." I replied, my grin sobering as I unearthed my arms from underneath my body. "So…should we take the bags and go upstairs now?"

"No."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Oh. Is there more stuff lying around to be picked up?"

"No. I just think we should wait for them to come down to get us."

"Ok. Did you want to continue where we left off then? Might as well finish the job, seeing as your hair is still black and all."

He shook his head. "Should resolve itself soon. I feel mostly back to normal already."

"Mostly? I'm afraid that's not good enough. I think you should take another cereal bar and let me do my thing while we have the chance. I mean, do we really want to subject ourselves to the possibility of a long car trip full of ridiculous potshots at our expense if I have to heal you then?"

"Thought those were a given."

"Well, you know…ok, ok, you might be right there. But rightness aside, the reason why I didn't wait for you to come up is because my father told me to make sure you'd be good for the trip. So if you were worried that doing this might increase the odds of getting a pitchfork thrown at you, you don't have to be."

"I wasn't. It's not like the process requires you to sit on my lap or anything else that could be as easily misinterpreted. Not that this is a pressing concern of anyone's for that matter."

"…Sometimes I forget it's you I'm talking to. Then you never fail to remind me by being a giant buzzkill."

He shrugged. "I was relaying observable facts from our situation. Don't shoot the messenger."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that was a hint that you want me to pick up where I left off." I teased.

"That wasn't a hint, it was relaying information."

I playfully stuck my hands on his face with my palms on his cheeks and fingers covering his eyes. "Lies!"

He reached for my wrists and pulled my hands off him. "Not lies."

Just as he set down my hands at my sides, I pointed at his face. "Well at any rate, I think you should reconsider. My hand magic just made your eyes go back to their regular intimidating shade of blue again."

"Don't need to." he responded, lowering my pointing hand. "I changed my mind prior to your attempt at blinding me."

"…So it was a hint? I'm really confused."

He shook his head, unbuttoned one of his shirt's cuffs so he could roll it back and rested his uncovered arm on his thigh. Then he looked up at me. "It wasn't a hint. You misinterpreted my comment about misinterpretation as a reason to decline contact-healing. I was only stating it wasn't a worry I had. I changed my mind because I realized that if my hair is still black when we leave, there's a definite possibility that Allison will put me in a ridiculous hat or something."

"No, that was so not the reason. You were on-board from the start, you just wanted to toy with me first." I maintained as I placed my hands on his exposed forearm. "Possibly in some backwards attempt to ultra-prove that you aren't some kind of power-addicted lapdog by annoying me, but I theorize that it's mostly because you're a Grade-A Meany. Or because you somehow managed to literally puke your brains out. I'm leaning towards the former though."

"…You say that and yet you're still healing me."

"Well, I'm sure that Allison only has one ridiculous hat and I'll be damned if I'm not the one who gets it. Especially if it's something as ridiculously-cute as a fox hat. A grey one would complement my new Caraway-grey eyes." I told him in my best matter-of-fact voice. "I'm trying to tip the scales in my favour, you see."

It took me all I had not to crack up right then and there; the level look Squall shot at me was not helping matters any though.

"In all seriousness, I'm going to answer your question with a question – when have I ever reconsidered helping you out just because you were being difficult?"

"What I said was a statement, not a question. Didn't need an answer, never mind two."

"Mr. Leonhart, that wasn't a statement - you were teasing me some more. You might think I'm not onto you but I'm catching onto your desert-dry sense of humour, mister." I light-heartedly chided. "…That being said, I, um, appreciate your efforts at making things lighter after everything upstairs. I really do."

"Can't exactly take credit for that." he admitted. "It…wasn't deliberate."

Though the skin underneath my fingers felt warm, I suspected we wouldn't be sitting like this for much longer. I noticed errant strands here and there were lightening to his normal shade of brown already and it would only be a matter of time before enough tendrils would change within his range of vision for him to catch wind of the difference. And honestly? I almost felt relieved.

I don't know what I was thinking when I thanked him for keeping things light. If this was Zell, sure, I could say that to him and know his words carried that kind of intent. Heck, even on the off-chance that I was wrong, I wouldn't think too much about it. This was different. Applying that same logic to Squall made absolutely no sense in any iteration or context. And-

"…Rinoa."

"-Hm?"

"If I was uncomfortable with the direction things were going, I would have stopped it myself. You don't need to do that for me."