Rip, Torn, Tumble

(straight into me)

~ Vain  9.4.2002

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I do not own Squall Leonhart, Seifer Almsay or any of the other characters in the game Final Fantasy VIII; they belong to Squaresoft and their respective creators.  The story and its concepts are mine.

Please be forewarned that this story contains spoilers, yoai, shounen-ai, mature themes, and violence.  Translation: stuff you won't see until you finish the game, fighting, swearing, angst, Seifer/Squall man-love, and a dab of NCS.  Get over it or go away. 

The only profit I get from this is emotional satisfaction, so please read and review.  Thank you.

~Vain

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Chapter One

The Price of Shelter

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"I was winning till I lost."

- Chris Lesko

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"I had sex with him." 

The words took the other man by surprise.  Blue-violet eyes narrowed and his customary drawl was forgotten in his shock.  "I beg your pardon?"

"I had sex with him."

"When?"

"D-District."

"Why?"

". . . He wanted it."

For a moment they were both silent, their former good mood irrevocably shattered.

"Did you want it?"

There was no response.

"Did he force you?  What did he do to you?"

". . ."

A whisper: "Answer me!"

"Let it be."

"What?!  You can't be serious!  You have to talk to someone, tell someone what—"

"Nothing happened, so just drop it."  Gray eyes hardened.  "That is not a request."

". . . Hyne damn you, bastard."

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Irvine Kinneas stared into space, his eyes narrowed as he rolled the events of the last mission over in his mind.  He scowled darkly.  He didn't know whether to scream or cry or just take out his Exeter and start shooting people.  None of these things were optional, though, so he just sat at their customary table in the cafeteria and thought. 

He knew he wouldn't come down to eat with them unless Quistis forced him to.  He thought maybe he knew why now.  There were still pieces of the puzzle that the sniper had yet to find, but Irvine was patient.  He could outwait Hyne himself if necessary, let alone the Ice Prince.

"So?"

"So?"

The resident ray of sunshine that was Selphie Tilmitt dropped into a chair and then beamed at Irvine from across the round table before tearing savagely into a croissant.  She chewed noisily before swallowing.  "How'd the mission go?"

Irvine grunted and took a sip of the thick sludge that was currently masquerading as Garden café mocha.  "Okay."

"Okay?"  The small mercenary across from him made a comical face of annoyance.  "Just okay?  It was a big payoff.  I mean, Commander Squally himself went undercover with you for this one and it was just okay?"  Selphie blinked as though something had just occurred to her and the croissant stopped halfway to her mouth.  "How is he?  I mean . . . y'know.  With everything."

The cowboy peered up at her below the bill of his hat and frowned before taking another sip of coffee.  "Still got that stick lodged as far up his ass as ever."  Violet eyes met brown ones intently.  "And Rinoa?"

Selphie shrugged unhappily.  "I dunno.  She just doesn't talk to me anymore—at least not about Squall.  Whatever happened between them remains a mystery."

A tray slammed down on the table and Selphie jumped, startled.  Irvine stabbed a piece of sausage before it could leap off his plate as Zell Dincht flopped gracelessly into the chair next to him.

The blond groaned and scrubbed his face.  "I am so fucking tired right now . . ."

Irvine took a nice fortifying swig of coffee.  Zell and Selphie . . . together . . . at 06:45 . . . Hyne save him now.

Selphie turned a stunningly guileless gaze onto the martial artist.  "When did you guys get in?"

"Three hours ago."  Blue eyes shone pleadingly as Zell stared at the girl in front of him.  "Three hours . . . It's inhuman.  How on earth does Squall function like this?"

"Stress keeps him awake, I think," Selphie replied cheerily.

Zell groaned and Irvine slammed the coffee cup back on his tray so hard it spilled over onto his gloves.

"Irvie . . . ?"  Selphie's eyes widened as the man pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his tray without a word.  "Irvine?"

The cowboy stalked off stiffly, shoulders pulled back unnaturally tight and his long auburn hair shimmering in the florescent lights. 

Selphie turned to Zell.  "What happening?"

The blond shrugged and scowled down at his eggs.  "How should I know?  First Squall starts clamming up again, then he and Rinoa start screaming at each other in the cafeteria, then Irvine starts acting all weird three days into the mission."

Delicate fingers tore nervously at the remainders of her croissant as Selphie's brow darkened in an unusually thoughtful expression.  "You think this has something to do with Squall?"

"Mmm-hmm."  Zell picked up his Styrofoam cup of tea and swirled the reddish liquid around before his blue eyes flickered up to Selphie.  "Irvine was still a little bummed about the whole "Let's-Just-Be-Friends" Bomb you dropped on him last month when he took the mission," he didn't see her soft frown and continued, "but Quisty . . . You know how she can be.  I guess she thought that the two of them could somehow cheer each other up, y'know?  And for a little while it worked.  I mean, Hell, if the Lionheartless isn't talking to me, then he isn't talking to anyone.  We were . . . are . . . close.  But I wasn't making a dent.  So Quistis and I figured that maybe the cowboy could take him out . . . Get him laid . . . I dunno.  Do something."  He took a deep swallow of the tea and frowned.

"And?" the young woman pressured.

"And for about a day things looked good.  We saw Squall and, okay, so he wasn't exactly dancing around with glee and all, but he looked better.  Better than he has since maybe we got back from the war.  And Irvine . . . Well, Irvine is Irvine.  Always a smile and a wink.  We didn't contact them for two weeks while Squall worked his way up to Hokitawa.  Then when we get the call, Squall's all stern and stiff.  We figure: "what the hell," because the High Commander never takes a fucking day off, right?  Then after things go down and we meet for debriefing, Irvine walks in looking like someone just blew up his puppy and mailed the pieces to him.  And Squall . . . He's fucking ice, Selph.  Worse than he ever was before."

The girl settled back in her uncomfortable plastic chair and sighed unhappily.  She took a half-hearted chomp of her croissant again.  "We could try a party . . .?"

"You tried that, remember?"  The blond turned to watch some students file in for breakfast.  "That was when Quistis decided that having Squall and Rinoa anywhere within 1000 meters of one another was out."

The petite girl sighed.  "That was my fault.  I kept trying to push them together.  But I never thought—"

Zell waved a dismissive hand.  "None of us thought that they'd react like that.  All of us kept trying to get them together again."  He took a bite of one of the hotdogs on his tray and chewed thoughtfully.  "You know when this all started, right?"

"What?"

Zell took another bite and a deep swallow of tea before continuing.  "Quisty and I were talking before the mission."  His eyes caught Selphie's and seemed to glow.  "The funeral.  He and Rinoa argued over it for weeks."

"Mmmm . . ." Selphie's forehead scrunched up in concentration.  "I remember.  It was weird.  He didn't say anything when they found the body, but you know how Squall is . . . You'd be better off trying to read glass.  You think he's being all gloomy and doomy because he misses Seifer?"

The blond shrugged.  "Dunno.  Could be."

"I thought they hated each other."

Zell made a face before finishing off his hotdog.  "Most everyone hated Seifer.  There weren't too many people who were ambivalent towards him."  He picked up his second hotdog and took a bite.

"'Ambivalent?' " The girl quirked an eyebrow and Zell stuck his tongue out at her.   "Hmph."  Still smirking, Selphie finished off her croissant.  "Well, considering that Seifer's pretty dead, that really doesn't help us.  Maybe he'll just snap out of it?"

"And maybe Irvine will declare celibacy and Seifer will rise from the grave and return bearing gifts."  Zell took an enormous bite out of his hotdog. 

Selphie pouted.  "Well you don't have to be a jerk about it."

"Sorry."  He winced slightly and looked sheepish.  "I'm just tired."

The girl shrugged and stood. 

"Where you running off to?"

"I need chocolate.  You want anything?"

"Nah.  I have to hurry up and finish.  Squall ordered Nida to set course for Esthar the minute we got back to Garden.  We should be there in an hour or two and I wanna unwind on some 'Rexaurs in the Training Center before the briefing."

Selphie sighed and tugged the tip of on of her braids speculatively.  "What's that all about, anyway?"

Zell shrugged.  "He immediately rat-holed himself in his quarters last night to put in a call to Laguna.  He and his dad ain't exactly buddy-buddy, so if Squall needed to call him and the whole Garden is going there instead of just a couple of us, it must be pretty important."  He stood.  "See you at the brief?"

"Yah."

He picked up his tray and headed towards the doors, leaving Selphie alone to await Quistis.

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