Reversals
by Lady Tempest

Part 18:

It took Squall a while to calm down enough to call Headmaster Cid. For what seemed an infinite length of time, he had sat in the headmaster's leather chair staring down at his bloodied knuckles, wondering why the red wouldn't wash completely away, when he realized it was his own blood, from cuts and cracks in the skin, probably from Jake's teeth or 'Hyne knows' what else.

Quistis had offered to inform the headmaster, as well as Raijin and Fujin, of the need for their return, but he refused. Telling Cid was his responsibility. He'd allow her to deal with Raijin, but Cid he had to deal with himself. Then he could put his responsibilities to Garden behind him, for a while at least, and focus on helping Seifer recover; help his rival become his rival once again.

Squall sighed, running a hand he hadn't noticed was shaking through his frazzle of chestnut hair. Slumping forward against the headmaster's desk and cradling his head in his hand, he absently pressed the quick-dial to the Orphanage.

He should sit straight, as he had been taught, raise his wall of ice, basically put up his usual professional and efficient image, but he didn't have the energy. And he didn't care. Too much had happened to continue false fronts.

"S..Squall?" a voice crackled through the emerging image on the vid-phone. "Is that you, my boy?"

Squall nodded weakly.

"A...are you alright?"

Taking a deep breath, his bangs fluttering on the exhale, Squall stared at his scratched and bruised knuckles and began. "Cid. Sir. There's been an...incident... with one of the students."

"Yes?" Cid tilted his head slightly to the side, his usual friendly grin planted firmly on his broad face. However, the crinkling at the corner of his eyes of wrinkles upon wrinkles showed he was listening seriously. "Go on, my boy. What incident? What student?"

Squall shut his eyes, fighting to shut out the rising sting and tension behind them. "Seifer. He... I need you to come back, sir."

"What's happened? He isn't causing you trouble, is he?"

He took another deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter, the few reflexive twitches biting back an overflow of emotion still as real and raw as... "He..." Hands shaking, Squall lifted his gaze and stared directly into Cid's digitally projected eyes. "...he tried to kill himself."

Cid shot forward, his kind, fatherly face filling the screen. With wide eyes blinking and mouth slack, he slumped back. "Oh dear god," Cid gasped.

Something dark flashed at the side of the screen. "Oh, Seifer," a female voice murmured sadly. Matron fell with a weak yet graceful slump to sit next to Cid, her golden eyes carrying an added weight of grief and even guilt. "My poor dear boy."

Cid wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders, drawing her against him and patting her in comfort. "You said 'tried'?" he questioned as he looked back at Squall.

Squall nodded slowly, talking about what had happened making it fresh in his mind. The blood, all the blood, sickly sweet and metallic. And Seifer. Seifer had been so cold, so pale, so alone. He swallowed a sob. He needed to get back; needed to see Seifer warm and alive, to remind himself his Seifer wasn't gone.

However, he had to get through with Cid first. "Yes, sir. Doctor Kadowaki saved him. He's in the Infirmary."

"Thank Hyne!" Edea cried, a delicate hand muffling the weeping catch in her throat.

Embracing his wife more tightly, Cid nodded in agreement. "Most definitely. I had never realized the boy was so troubled." Edea glanced up at him, the sadness and guilt and understanding clear on her beautiful face. "Ah. But I suppose I understand." He raised his hand and gently caressed her cheek. "It's not your fault dear."

Edea seemed to sigh, more a delicate rise and fall of her shoulders than a breath. The despair of the gesture hinted at many discussions of her guilt and her role in bringing one of her children into his dream which turned nightmare. Discussions which obviously had yet to convince her of her innocence.

"Sir?" Squall prompted impatiently. He didn't have time to waste. Cid needed to come back and immediately.

"Ah, Squall. Yes, yes. What is it? As terrible as this news is, I don't see why you need me?"

"Well, uh..." His scratched and bloodied fingers twined and untwined with each other. "...Sir... I..."

Edea leaned forward, pulling herself partially from the comfort of her husband's arms, a motherly smile on her lips. "We understand, dear. We'll be back as soon as possible. You take care, and care for Seifer, as you have. And give him our love, too."

Cid glanced at his wife, confused.

"...Matron..." Squall felt like a little boy again, wanting to curl in Matron's lap, for her to kiss his scrapes, and caress his hair, and make all the bad things go away. One of the best things he ever did was stop using the Guardian Forces, and rediscover some of the precious memories he hadn't even known he had forgotten.

"Don't worry, everything will be okay."

Squall slowly nodded.

"Huh? I..." Cid blinked and glanced between Squall and his wife.

"Hush, Dear. I'll tell you later."

And the screen went black.

********

Seifer lay in his Infirmary bed, tangled in the sweaty sheets, his breathing heavy from another nightmare gone all the more terrifying by the calming soft light of the room. He didn't deserve escape from the eternal darkness death promised. But then, he didn't deserve escape from his crimes through death either. He just needed it, desperately, regardless of what he deserved.

To awake, yet again, to safety and life when he longed to never awake again, to never be reminded of all he lost and more importantly all he had done was a greater nightmare than his mind could conjure. The ragged blue-white arcs of electricity crackling over and through the man he loved, the man he had always loved, tortured by his own hand, burned forever in Seifer's memory. His own pain and fear, and the thousands of eyes and slithering hands haunting his mind, had banished it for a time, but it had returned as he had returned from the edge of a welcomed oblivion.

Why had Squall saved him? Why? Seifer had nearly killed him more than once, and with no mercy. Why would Squall even think of sparing him? Squall should want him as dead as Seifer had wanted him. As Seifer wanted himself.

But Seifer never wanted Squall to die. Never wanted to hurt him. It was just beyond his control to stop. His weakness nearly ended the life of not only the one he loved, but the ones Squall loved. It was all his fault no matter what anyone said. If he had been stronger, better, less pathetic, he wouldn't have done those horrible things, he wouldn't have...

His crimes were unforgivable, as he should be. Squall should hate his very existence; hate the very fact that Seifer was presumptuous enough to breathe, consuming the precious air of those he wronged so deeply. Why didn't he? Why? Why?

"Why?" Seifer croaked.

Squall pushed away from the doorframe and strode across the room towards him. "Why what?"

"W...why didn't you let me die? Why do you always save me? I don't deserve it. You should have just let me go. Just.." Seifer's fingers clawed into the white sheets. "Everyone would be much happier without me around."

"Shut up!" Squall snapped, his hands roughly grasping Seifer's shoulders before the blond realized he had closed the distance between them. "You're wrong! You're...wrong." His head sagged, his soft brown bangs hiding his storm blue eyes. Suddenly, as if drained of strength, Squall's grip slipped, fingers trailing for barest seconds down Seifer's arms, tingling Seifer's skin, then Squall's arms fell at his sides.

"You're wrong," Squall murmured softly.

Both young men were silent. The steady hum of the ventilation system and the faint buzz of the soft infirmary lights were nearly drowned by their quiet breaths. Seifer, even in all his self-loathing, couldn't find anything to say. He knew he must be imagining Squall's air of vulnerability, but even so, it felt like one single word would be enough to break Squall into a million pieces, and he didn't know which word would strike the blow.

Squall stood near perfectly still, the flutter of his bangs from the overhead vent and from his quiet breaths, and the twitch of his bandage bound fists keeping him from a convincing imitation of stone. Squall's hands hadn't been bandaged before he had left earlier, but then Seifer had been distracted by the pain of finding himself alive and, for the most part, unfortunately, well. The thought that perhaps Squall's injury was because of him and something he did pained him more than discovering he wasn't dead. And if it was him, like everything else horrible and wrong always was, all he wanted was to curl into himself, into nothingness, and die. But then to a less agonizing degree, that's all he wanted anyway.

Squall refused to look in Seifer's direction, but the blond couldn't fault him for it. He wouldn't want to look at him either, especially after proving how fathomlessly weak he was. Slipping deeper underneath the sheets, craving the feeling of being consumed, Seifer curled onto his side, the edge of the cool cotton sheet a wrinkled mass in his whitened fists. He tried not to think, tried not to feel, tried not to do anything, but it was all too much. Too much...

"Did... did you let them... hurt you?" Squall abruptly spoke in the barest whisper, but in the silence it might as well been a shout.

Seifer flinched, startled more by the suddenness of the smaller boy speaking than by the question itself. It didn't matter anymore if Squall knew. It was only punishment, his sentence for his crimes. He should be more ashamed of his own deeds than the form of retribution against him. But he wasn't. He couldn't be. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of what he must do to pay for what he had done.

His eyes closed as he sighed. "Yes."

"Why?" Squall cried, his voice tight, as if he had been betrayed. Funny, that Seifer's betrayal was the very thing his submission paid for. "Why!"

"Because I had to," Seifer whispered, pulling the sheet more snuggly around him as he trembled. Opening his eyes, misery glistening in the pale blue, he forced himself to look at Squall as he added, "B... because there was no other way to..." But Squall didn't let him finish.

"Don't." Head snapping up, Squall's storm blue eyes bore into his with the intensity in the rage of a hurricane. "Don't ever do it again, you hear me. Never!"

Seifer could have pretended ignorance, but he knew what Squall meant. Whether not submitting himself to his victims' vengeance or not again attempting his own death, it didn't matter which, and Squall likely meant both. But how would Squall understand? He was good and pure and beautiful, and a hero. A living legend. Squall would never destroy villages, cities, Garden. He would never try to kill again and again and again... the one he loved.

Tears trailed down Seifer's face, soaking the pillow beneath his cheek. There was no other way. He could only do whatever his victims asked and even that would never bring him to redemption, but at least it was something. At least it was one step closer. There was no other way! "But how can..."

"Never!" Squall's stormy stare was unwavering. "Promise me."

"You don't understand. I'm worthless. Evil. Trash. A monster. I deserve..."

"Shut up! Promise me!"

He couldn't! He owed too many people. "I..."

"Promise me!" A single tear slid down Squall's cheek. But either Squall hadn't realized it or didn't care.

Seifer watched, fascinated, as the tear sparkled in the soft infirmary light, streaking silver down Squall's fine jawline. As is broke from the brunet's smooth skin with a quiver and fell, vanishing, into the fur of Squall's jacket, Seifer broke as well. Causing Squall pain was the last thing he ever desired to do. Causing Squall to cry, even just one single tear, was not only unimaginable, but unthinkable and agonizing.

Besides, he owed Squall more than any of them. Any of them. "I promise."

"Good."

*******

Kadowaki refused to release Seifer from the Infirmary unless he had someone to supervise his recovery, although Squall knew she mostly meant ensure Seifer wouldn't attempt suicide again. With Cid and Matron returning to Garden the next morning, there would be little difficulty for him to fit that role. And if there had been, he would have made a way past it. No matter what it may have required. No matter what.

The biggest potential difficulty, Seifer, had surprisingly been none at all. The only argument from the blond was over his refusal to leave the Infirmary in a patient's gown. Squall had to force back a blush at both his own stupidity and the unwitting temptation of seeing Seifer partially nude. He knew his heart must have stopped completely for several beats as his eyes had raked down Seifer's body loosely covered in the pale green cotton, to rest upon slightly hidden buttocks, bare and golden against the white sheet of the bed. Heat flared to Squall's face, well, all over, and the more he tried not to think about what a bit of green cloth and a sheet were hiding, the more he wanted to and the more flushed he became.

Swallowing hard, Squall attempted to excuse himself and calmly leave to retrieve the clothes Quistis had set out and reminded him several times not to forget, but it came out an incoherent squeak and a mad dash from the room. He smacked himself inwardly for not only being so caught up in the excitement of having Seifer to himself, and anxiety over the blond fighting the idea, that he had been oblivious to all else, primarily the tiny little detail of Seifer's near state of undress and the fact that Squall had forgotten Seifer's change of clothes. Sometimes he seriously wondered how the hell he had become SeeD Commander. Actually, most of the time he wondered.

Squall tried to settle Seifer and himself into the strangeness of sharing a room. Zell had helped gather some of Seifer's belongings, a few books, some clothes, and several other familiar things to help Seifer feel at home. Mostly it had been Zell's idea, which should have been unexpected considering his and Seifer's past, but Zell was all-around a nice guy. And a nice guy who was obviously sincere about feeling Seifer was one of them, like a brother. For Zell, he seemed an aggravating, pain-in-the-ass brother, but a brother just the same.

The door to Squall's room swooshed open and he led Seifer inside. One of the benefits to being SeeD and SeeD Commander was larger quarters, nothing extreme, just a little more room than the usual dorm. Still austere, although much of that was Squall's personal taste for simplicity, the small sitting room had a homey feel. A long, navy blue couch against the wall offset by a matching cozy chair, a black metal end-table between them, a small television recently mounted into a corner, and at the far end of the room a desk, its sparse contents neatly ordered, gave a sense of comfort, but as Squall glanced over his shoulder to the tall blond slightly behind him, he truly felt complete, at home, right.

"Uh. I emptied a drawer for your clothes, and your books and stuff are on the nightstand in the bedroom," Squall said biting back an unsettling flutter in his gut, his throat gone dry.

Seifer looked at him, eyes sad, and a little nervous, even a touch fearful. Squall would never get used to seeing fear on Seifer's beautiful face. And he would do whatever it took so he never would need to get used to it.

"I'm taking the couch." Squall murmured quickly.

Seifer just nodded, a little of the fear draining from his face, and walked further into the room, shoulders sagged as they had been all the way there.

"I...uh...well..." Squall fumbled for something to say, to make Seifer feel more comfortable, more at ease. But such words always came difficult to him. And now that they actually were important to him, he was at a complete loss.

"I'm tired," Seifer said.

"Oh. Okay. Well, the bed's yours. I'll ... uh...be out here, ..if you need anything..."

Seifer nodded and shambled to the bedroom.

********

"No!"

A sudden cry jolted Squall awake. His heart hammering in his chest and his breath in ragged gasps, he stared, wide-eyed, into the darkness of the room. Was it just something in his dream? As he sat panting, rushing blood quickly clearing his mind of sleep, it also cleared his mind of whatever he had been dreaming.

Before he had a chance to further wonder at the fading images and sensations beyond the grasp of his waking mind, another cry startled him to reality.

"No! No more..."

The terror and anguish in the all so familiar voice drove him instantly to his feet, racing from the couch to the niche of his bedroom.

" Please... die," Seifer murmured. The faint moonlight through the window silvered on rumpled sheets and his tightly curled form. " ....let... die... me..."

Squall stood frozen, looming over his bed. He didn't know what to do other than listen to Seifer's whimpered cries. Should he touch him, comfort him, wake him? Could he? Did he still have the right to call Seifer friend after all that had happened? Did he ever have it?

"No more."

As Squall strained to hear, the words became clearer through Seifer's sobs.

"Please, let me die."

The sheer grief and anguish in Seifer's choked voice gripped his heart like a vice. For the barest of moments it took for the thought to form then fade, Squall almost felt a pang of guilt for saving Seifer; to return him to a world where all he knew was misery and pain. But the memory of Seifer's naked body lying lifeless and cold, blood everywhere, so red and dreadful, chilled him just as quickly.

He could never feel guilty for saving Seifer's life. It was too precious, Seifer was too precious, to just let go. Seifer deserved a chance at happiness, deserved happiness, especially after all he had suffered. A suffering that had begun long before, even before either of them could remember.

Seifer's shivering and muffled sobs snapped him from his thoughts. He couldn't bear to see or hear Seifer cry, the one who had been so strong for as long as Squall had known him. But what could he do? His hands ached to sooth away the pain, run his fingers through Seifer's golden hair and hold him, like Matron would when they were children.

Seifer had always been so self-reliant, trying so hard to be a 'big-boy' and never cry or show fear. Maybe that's why Zell's freedom with his emotions had bothered Seifer so much. But even Seifer would get nightmares. And even Seifer would curl into the comfort of Matron's arms.

Squall took a step forward his hand reaching towards Seifer's shuddering form. Carefully, not wanting to startle the sleeping blond, he rested it on Seifer's shoulder as he knelt beside the bed. It felt strange and yet right. Well, almost. It was like a ghost of rightness, begging for more.

Seifer didn't stir, although his body flinched at the touch. Squall pulled his hand away like it had encountered a fragile glass artifact, too delicate and precious to risk shattering with a touch. But the 'rightness' lingered, and he longed to chase away Seifer's pain.

"Seifer," he whispered. "It's me."

Squall dared another touch and gently brushed his fingers through Seifer's hair. Pale silver-gold in the moonlight, it was so soft and warm, caressing his fingertips as they caressed Seifer. Definitely, he liked it longer. More to hold on to, to feel. And the sensation was mesmerizing, and seemed to relax Seifer as much as it relaxed him.

Although still asleep, Seifer's trembling lessened, each stroke through the soft hair and each whisper of Squall's voice soothing away whatever darkness tormented Seifer's mind and his sleep.

"Seifer, it's me," Squall continued awkwardly, yet in a calming tone he was beginning to feel himself, then paused. His lips quirked into a frustrated grimace. "Hell, Seifer, I suck at this sort of thing. But..." His mind scrambled to remember all the words Matron would whisper in the dread still of night when his own nightmares had left him scared and alone; When he had let her chase away the monsters lurking under his bed and within his mind. "... there's nothing to be afraid of... not anymore..."

"Squall?" A tired voice murmured. With a flutter of pale lashes, Seifer's eyes opened, glimmering in the moonlight and staring straight at Squall.

"Yeah." His hand absently continued to brush through Seifer's hair. "Better?"

Pale, bare skin peeking from under rumpled silk fall of his loose pajama top, Seifer's shoulder lifted in a weak shrug. He watched Squall with careful, moon-bright eyes.

"I ... guess you were having a bad dream. You were... talking in your sleep."

Seifer remained silent, just watching.

"Well, if you're okay, I'll ... uh... let you ...uh...go back to sleep."

As Squall began to struggle from his aching knees to his feet, a shaking hand grabbed his arm. Stalled, he glanced into Seifer's glittering eyes, a streak of silver forming on Seifer's skin like a wordless plea. Plea for what, Squall wasn't sure.

He couldn't move, didn't know what to do. So he did nothing but stand there, studying Seifer's beautiful face in the silver light and the silver lines glimmering on his skin. The desolate sadness in those pale eyes clutched his heart and tightened until he felt like he couldn't breathe.

Seifer. Such pain. Anguish. All of it Squall wanted to take away. To give back even just a small measure of happiness and life, if that was all which was possible, to bring the light back into Seifer's eyes.

Seifer still said nothing, his gaze suddenly darting away, like the faint light or looking at Squall would burn him or bring him some greater torture.

"P...please..."

Something in the despair and dejection in Seifer's voice and on his face Squall didn't like. Didn't like at all. It went beyond hurting when Seifer hurt, hating to see Seifer suffering. Seifer wanted something, was begging for it, and Squall had a nagging fearful instinct of what it was.

"What do you want from me?" Squall almost snapped. He didn't mean to but his throat was too tight to be any softer.

"Please.." Seifer choked. "Let..."

"No!" Damn him! How could Seifer ask such a thing? Why couldn't he see how essential, special,... needed... he was? Why? Why!

"But... I..."

"No! I won't." Squall dropped onto the edge of the bed and grabbed Seifer by the shoulders. "You promised me."

Seifer blinked, a tear falling free of his lashes.

"You promised me. No more letting them win! I won't have it! You're a fighter, Seifer. So fight." His grip on Seifer gentled and he took a deep breath. "I'll fight too."

At that, Seifer broke, curling into himself and sobbing.

Deed before thought, Squall sprawled himself over Seifer and drew him into a full embrace, arms wrapped around the shuddering form with a protective possessiveness which only surprised him by its naturalness, not its existence. Warmth to warmth, he held Seifer like he would never let go. And he wouldn't.

"Together," Squall breathed fiercely into Seifer's ear. "... we'll win. Not them."

*****

Seifer couldn't help himself. At the words brushing his ear, the last remnants of his control broke and like a floodgate, his emotions surged free, staining Squall's t-shirt with more tears than Seifer had ever known. He clung to the Squall, desperate; His whole world balanced in the arms around him.

Suddenly, the arms vanished and the warmth left cold. Seifer could feel the fault-lines cracking his existence, streaking towards each other like falling stars to shatter him into infinite pieces. Had his soul a scream remaining within, he would have loosed it. Instead all he possessed was a silent whimper: 'No, no, no. Don't leave me. Please. Please, don't leave me...'

Whether Squall somehow heard him, or actually had never intended to abandon him, the mattress shook with a shifting weight beside him and Seifer found himself gently drawn back to the warmth. Squall settled Seifer's head onto his chest, arms rewrapped around him, a soothing hand rubbing circles on his back.

The tears poured down Seifer's face, pooling in damp patches that cooled his heated cheek. Words escaped him, although his throat was too tight and choked to have voiced them had he found any. He just lay overwhelmed by the dream holding him, his fingers curling tightly in the soft cloth of Squall's shirt. He felt home.

"So what am I, Wark now?" Squall said, the rumbled chuckle beneath Seifer's cheek startling him.

"Huh?" Seifer blinked and tilted his head to look up at Squall, meeting a hint of a smile. For him?

The circles caressing his back became wandering, free-flowing lines. They were nearly the most wonderful sensation he had ever felt. And Squall, painted silver-blue with moonlight, and with the almost smile, so close to him, was the most wonderful, beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Your stuffed chocobo you had as a kid."

"Y...You remember?"

"You slept with it every night." Squall's mouth teased towards an amused smirk. "Kinda hard not to notice."

Seifer was quiet for a moment, gazing at Squall with growing wonder. The soft expression on Squall's beautiful face dazzled him. To grasp just the edge of his deepest dream pulled him from the pit of his guilt and despair, for at least a blissful moment. The truth of Squall's intent was unimportant, only the warmth, the closeness, the feel of friendship. Only home. Tentatively, a faint, childlike grin crossed his lips. "You don't look like Wark though. Not like Zell."

Squall grinned in return. "True. But Zell snores and can't sit still for more than five minutes. So..." In dramatic resignation, Squall sighed, his chest rising slowly then falling, shifting Seifer's head on its warm perch. Squall's hand on his back stilled and tugged him closer. "...So, sorry, you'll have to settle for me."

Fingers settled in Seifer's hair, stroking through it, careful to not catch on any tangles. Soothing, calming, safe. Like Matron when he'd had a nightmare as a child. Yet, so not like Matron it somehow was more comforting. He could feel his eyes drifting closed, contentment whispering through him, but he didn't want to sleep and miss a single moment. Dreams always shattered and vanished too quickly.

"Now go back to sleep," Squall said softly, the warmth of his breath ghosting over Seifer's skin.

"But..." Seifer protested, straining to keep his eyes open and keep sleep away.

"That's an order, cadet." Any forcefulness of Squall's command was lost in his gentle tone and the gentle rhythmic swirls of fingertips through the cloth of Seifer's pajama shirt and through the length of his hair.

Drowning in the first fragment of happiness he had felt in a long while, Seifer unwillingly obeyed. Warm and safe, darkness embraced him and as he fell to sleep, he knew the nightmares couldn't touch him again until morning.

*******

Seifer awoke suddenly to a touch on his arm. Sunlight, bright and warm, streamed through the window, blinding a white-red behind his eyelids as they tried to flicker open. Burying his face under an over-flung arm, he groaned, squinting his eyes tightly until they could bear the day.

He had never been a morning person, although some might think otherwise. If he had to be awake at fuck-awful-early, he had found over-cheerful an amusing annoyance to everyone else who hated being awake as much as he did. Sometimes sacrifices must be made to his greater amusement. Besides, alternating on other mornings the grouchiness closer to his natural morning mood kept everyone off-balance and was damn entertaining to watch.

As he slowly brought himself to awareness, beginning to decide which mood to go for, an ache of emptiness and a too cheerful voice definitely not his own or Squall's, jolted him with the reminder that he was no longer as he had been. And, the cool sheets under the blind flex of his free hand and the absence of whom he began to believe a dream which never became reality stabbed him with a loneliness as painful as the nightmares and dread memories tormenting each morning, each waking and unwaking moment of the past month, or more accurately, since Ultimecia had chosen him as her Knight.

" 'Morning, Handsome," a distinctly feminine, giggly voice greeted, close. Too close.

Carefully lifting his arm, he peeked from underneath, his eyes slowly focusing the dark blob in front of him into the brightly smiling face of Rinoa, the face he knew he would find. She was slightly bent over him, her dark eyes scrunched with her wide smile.

"How ya feeling?"

Seifer edged away from her, deeper onto his bed, his back hitting the headboard. The blue sheets tangled around his body, for once not the result of restless sleep.

"Rinoa..." he whispered, his voice thick with sleep and fear, tugging his pajama shirt tightly about his body, his fingers white and clawing closed its open neck snug to his throat.

Rinoa winked and landed with a playful plop on the edge of the bed. "I'm glad you're okay. You are, right? I couldn't believe when Squall told me... you know... what happened. I can't imagine anyone doing... you know... that... definitely not someone I know. Or you. Well, oh well, I'm glad Squall's at some meeting or other, or so Zell said, gives me a chance to visit with you and us have some fun and forget about all that ickiness."

Seifer stared at her, eyes wide. What did she want? He just wanted to sleep and have Squall next to him, holding him, like his dream...

"Seifer, I'm sorry if I've hurt you in the past," she said quietly, her head bowed as she studied her clasped hands. "I didn't mean to. I think you're very special and I've always been attracted to you." Rinoa looked up at him from under her dark lashes and smiled. "Still am attracted to you."

Why was she there? Why wouldn't she go? Leave him alone? Where was Squall? Why did he leave him? Alone? With her? "Squall..."

"He doesn't understand me." Rinoa laid a hand on his knee, softly stroking his leg with her thumb, the cotton sheet rubbing the silk of his pajama pants rubbing his skin in a creepy tickle.

A knot of nausea rumbled in his gut and a chill prickled his flesh. He felt sick. He didn't want her, or anyone, to touch him, only Squall, always only Squall. But fighting it was wrong. Or was wrong... Squall...

"... He doesn't listen or show affection." Her fingers traced up his thigh. "Not like you do. I don't know why I didn't see it before." She shifted closer along the bed, bunching the sheets toward his hips. "But can we not talk about him? He's not here, you are... "

Please go away! Go away. But it was only Rinoa. Rinoa wouldn't hurt him. Wouldn't... But it didn't stop the fear as her fingers crawled along his skin, even through the barrier of the sheets and his pajamas, slithering like tentacles, like something from his nightmares, like...

"...And I want to talk about you anyway." Her thumb brushed his cloth-covered groin as her hand traveled up and down his thigh. "...or not talk."

"Please..." he whimpered.

Please, no! He couldn't. Squall made him promise. And Seifer always kept his promises. Even if he didn't, he had to keep the one to Squall. He had to. But Rinoa. He had hurt Rinoa too, almost as much as Squall, forcing her into Adel's clutches, forcing her to merge with the evil sorceress. How could he ever atone for that? How could he ever do anything less than what she wanted? Squall loved her. And he loved Squall. So...

She smiled, her dark lashes fluttering seductively, eyes clouding with lust. "You're so polite when you're hot. I like it. Very sexy. Very..."

Seifer shuddered.

...So he couldn't hurt her. Or make her go away. He wanted her to go away, to leave him alone. But that would hurt her. And Squall would be hurt. And mad. He didn't want Squall mad. But if he broke his promise, Squall would be mad too. But Rinoa deserved what she wanted because he already had hurt her: And hurt Squall. He couldn't, but he had to. But he didn't want to make Squall mad. Not mad. Not hurt. Not...

Squall...

Squall...

...Squall...

Trembling , he groaned, his mind swirling in confusion, catching him in a dizzying current to the haze static gray of oblivion, where no one could touch him, or hurt him, only his body. Only his body.

(End Part 18)

Author's Notes: This chapter is much longer than previous ones, mainly because I have determined to end the Arc with chapter 20 and I knew where I wanted to leave this one off. This one was a challenge on many levels. One, Squall being comforting. I wanted it to feel genuine and true to Squall. Two, Rinoa. Bleh. As much as I don't like her, I wanted to make sure to not treat her as a total negative in the final scene and at least get close to a fair characterization. Some may feel just having her do what she is doing is unfair to her, yet I think as self-absorbed and clueless as she can be it's not unreasonable that she would, particularly within the right circumstances. The final major challenge was Seifer, and keeping him as realistic as possible given all he's gone through. I didn't want it to seem like he's suddenly okay just because of a little snuggling with Squall. He's got a long way to go before he's himself again and that's what Arc 3 is for.

Thanks for patiently waiting for this chapter and the next should be available soon. I'm back to writing again and most of 19 is already written, at least with dialogue, which is usually the most complicated part.