Disclaimer: (I'm trying for a serious one here) Final Fantasy Eight, along with it's characters, belong to Squaresoft. And being the big meanies that they are, they refuse to share with me. (Oh well, I tried)

Author's notes: My depression is slowly leaving me. I should be fine by chapter five.

Fatal Misunderstanding

Chapter 4

Squall's eyes drifted over to his gunblade. It would be so easy to just slit his wrists, or stab himself. So easy to end all his problems. But could he do it? And did he want to?

He walked across the room and picked the weapon off the floor. He traced the engraving with his finger, remembering all the damage he had done with the gunblade. He had killed so many people and monsters that he had lost count. The gunblade had taken so many lives, so what was one more?

He argued with himself, trying to decided whether or not to do it. He knew that without Rinoa, his life would be miserable. He'd have no reason to live. But he still wasn't convinced. After all, Rinoa hadn't told him yet. Maybe she'd changed her mind. And even if she hadn't, the truth was that he didn't want to die this way. When he died, he wanted it to be in battle, or from natural causes. If he killed himself, it would be talked about for a long time. Everyone would mourn his death, but they would have their own theories and opinions about what had happened. Some would claim that he had obviously been mentally unstable to do something like that, and others would lose any respect they had ever had for him. Hadn't he told the students in his gunblade class just last week that suicide was a coward's way out?

But the truth was, he was a coward. He didn't want to face Rinoa, or any of his friends, again. He didn't want to live a life without the only person he'd ever loved.

A tear dripped down his cheek, and he brushed it away angrily. He ran his finger over the blade, cutting his finger and watching as a line of blood appeared on the metal. Looking at his finger, he saw how quickly the blood ran out, covering his entire hand. If he cut his wrist, he would bleed to death so quickly that he probably wouldn't have time to regret it. It would be fast and easy. He could do it in the shower, so that he wouldn't stain the carpet of the dorm. As that thought entered his head, he laughed a bit. Here he was, planning on killing himself, and all he could think of was not getting blood on the carpet.

He wiped his finger on his shirt, and held it tightly until the bleeding had mostly stopped. Then he looked over at the picture of Rinoa he had on his desk. He couldn't just kill himself. She would be heartbroken. 'No she won't,' spoke up the voice once again, 'She's dumping you, remember?'

He knocked the picture off the desk, suddenly angry, then picked up his gunblade. He considered writing a note, but the little bitch didn't deserve one. She could figure it out herself.

~*~

Rinoa pulled into the school parking lot and got out of her car, wiping her eyes. She had just been to the vet, getting Angelo put to sleep. It had been hard, but she knew it had been the right thing to do. He had gotten sick a year ago, and his condition had continued to worsen until he was unable to even move.

The vet had scolded her for holding off so long, but when she had considered it before, Squall had convinced her not to. He had told her that putting an animal to sleep, unless it was rabid, was murder, plain and simple. Back then, Angelo had still been able to walk.

But when he got worse, she knew she had to do it. She hadn't told Squall, or anyone else except Selphie, her best friend. Now she was going to tell him. She didn't think he'd be mad. He'd probably comfort her, and tell her that she had done the right thing.

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and smiled a bit. Despite his attempts to seem completely emotionless, she knew he loved her, and that he had even liked Angelo a lot. He'd be almost as sad as she was.

Then again, she was still dreading telling him. When she had told Selphie, her friend had replied, "Yeah, I'm not sure Squall will see it that way though." It worried her. Maybe Selphie was right. Would Squall be mad? Would he dump her? She didn't think so, but she couldn't be sure.

"Oh well," she sighed, "If it's gonna happen then it's gonna happen." With that she left the parking lot and headed towards the dorms.

~*~

Squall stepped into the shower, flinching at the water temperature, and looked at his wrists. He lightly traced a path across one with his finger, then sighed. He was hesitating. He didn't know why, it wasn't as if he had any reason to not do it. It just suddenly seemed like a bad idea. Shaking his head, he gripped the gunblade firmly, and quickly drew it across his left wrist, then his right one. He stared in amazement as the blood ran out. He hadn't known it was possible to bleed this much or this quickly.

As Squall watched the blood mix in with the water and flow down the drain, he was suddenly hit by reality. That was his blood, dripping out of his wrists. This wasn't a movie. The blood, the gunblade, and everything else were real. He wasn't going to simply perform this scene and then get up and walk away unharmed. He was actually going to die. He looked around, panicking, and trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But the sudden movement, along with the blood loss, made him weak, and he passed out.

End of Chapter 4

Author's notes: Ok, I think I'm pretty much better. Now I'm just mad. I've actually been there longer than almost everybody at the pet store. Three years and they just throw you out on your ass. Oh well, anyway, please review.