A/N: Well, here's the next chapter, thanks for all the great reviews! I decided I would bring back my old chapter dedications, as a little thank you. And, once again, dialogue is parentheses is someone's thoughts, dialogue in italics is the voices.
Chapter dedication: Mayanoka! Thanks for the long reviews, and you gotta send me that film you made! I'm dying to see it!
Chapter 6
It was happening again, that infernal noise so loud it even silenced the crickets. The pitch of the sound seemed to strike a painful chord somewhere in his nervous system, to the point where he was beginning to develop a twitch in his right eye. Every night he settled down for sleep in hopes that it would just stop. Any normal, healthy person would've finished living this delusion long ago, but he wasn't exactly normal or healthy.
Squall rolled over and fumbled through the drawer in the nightstand next to his bed. When his fingers touched on a small cardboard box, he withdrew the object and tore open the lid, squinting in the darkness as he shook out the contents. Now, how to go about this the right way?
Pulling off his blanket, he slowly stood up, his brain fighting with his body, which tried to convince him to lie back down. He opened one of the strips that Rinoa had claimed would silence the ear-splitting monstrosity that was Zell, and quietly snuck over to where he was sleeping. Examining the strip in his hand for a moment, he quickly pressed, adhesive side down, over Zell's nose, temporarily blocking off his oxygen.
Zell's eyes snapped open suddenly and he let out a terrified scream, unable to make out the identity of his 'attacker' in the darkness. Squall jumped back into his bed and hid beneath the blankets once again, barely stifling the urge to laugh.
Only moments later, the sound of scuffling feet could be heard down the hall, until finally several people burst into the room, flipping on the lights to reveal a wide-eyed and very pale Zell.
"What's going on in here?" one of the nurses asked.
"Someone tried to attack me," Zell squeaked out. He was sitting up in his bed with his blankets pulled tightly around him.
The nurse crossed the room, gazing out through the barred window before turning to the guard who had come with her. "I don't see anything," she replied. "Zell have you been taking your meds lately?"
"I wasn't seeing things, I swear!" he screeched.
The nurse turned to the guard again. "Zell doesn't have a history of delusions," she admitted. Her gaze slowly searched the room until her eyes landed on a person-shaped lump hiding beneath a blue comforter.
She walked over to him and snatched the blanket back exposing the 'sleeping' man beneath. She sighed. "Mr. Leonhart, you're not breathing deep enough to be sleeping." She looked at the guard. "Mr. Leonhart does have a history of violence."
"What? I haven't done anything!" Squall protested, seeing that his sleeping act wasn't fooling anyone.
The nurse frowned down at him. "Logic seems to indicate otherwise. Get up, Mr. Leonhart. If you don't come willingly, we'll use force."
Squall sat up, but made no move to get to his feet. "Where are you taking me?"
"Solitary confinement. Where you belong."
"Hey wait a second! I demand to see my doctor!" he yelled as the guard moved to drag him to his feet.
"Mrs. Trepe is sleeping right now. She'll hear of it in the morning," the nurse replied.
"No, she's not my doctor anymore. I demand that you get Ms. Heartilly. She'll explain to you!"
She nodded to the guard, jerking her head toward the door. "Don't make me get the sedatives Mr. Leonhart. I know how much you dislike those."
"Bitch," Squall growled as the guard pulled him out the door. With a frightening scowl, he yanked his arm from the guard's grasp and began walking on his own, acceptance slowly creeping in. She wasn't going to listen to him. He would be locked in the padded cell for the rest of the night at least.
Finally they made it to that dreaded steel door. The guard unlocked it and shoved him in, switching off the lights inside and leaving him in complete darkness as he left. There were no windows in this room, no source of light other than the single light bulb overhead, which he no longer had the comfort of. One would think that a person such as himself, a man that was always trying to get away from people, would revel in the chance to have a few hours to himself. Squall did like to be alone… he wanted to be alone in the midst of a crowd, protected by the presence of others. Hearing the voices of other human beings would keep him bound to the living world. There, he was safe. But here, in the pitch-black darkness and the hollow void of silence, he was vulnerable, sitting prey to those inner demons that lay dormant at his core, waiting for the chance to swallow him.
"Why do you bother with this? Just end it! You're not worthy of their help; you're not worthy of the air in your lungs! You good for nothing son-of-a-bitch… it was all your fault."
"You're alone now, you'll always be alone. This is what you deserve, this is your punishment!"
"Look at yourself, what have you become? Some raving lunatic that can't handle his own thoughts? How shameful! You live only because of their pity. Is that how you want to be known? It's a dead end, it's all over. There's nowhere else to run, these people can't save you. You don't deserve to be saved! What would she think of you now?"
"Don't blame yourself, it's all their fault. It was a conspiracy from the beginning! They're all against you, can't you see the hate in their eyes? Trepe, it's all Trepe's fault. You wouldn't be what she wanted you to be, and now she's out to get you! Watch your back. You gotta keep looking over your shoulder."
So many words, so many voices. He listened, feeling his own hatred for himself rise again at those self-loathing words. But there was also hatred for everyone else waiting there. It was his fault, it was there fault, it was some conspiracy bigger than himself. He couldn't shake the delusions, the false beliefs. Most of all he couldn't escape that rage, that hate that seemed to burn in his chest. Every time he thought he could break free of it, it took hold of him again, piercing through his skin and coursing through his veins in the form of deadly poison. It would infect his system, choke the life out of him, and before he parted with his dying breath he would spread the sickness, contaminate another seemingly healthy person.
"Take it out on them, they deserve it. Make them bleed!"
"It's your own damn fault, now face up to it. If anyone's blood should be spilt, it's yours. You made her bleed, you made her die. Were she alive now, she'd hate you!"
"End it now, you have to end it. If you want to see her again you have to end it. You'll meet her again."
By this time he was leaned against a wall, sitting on the dirt-stained floor because he was suddenly too weak to support himself. His mind was racing beyond the speed of light, and there were simply too many thoughts for him to keep up with. He titled his head back, muscles tensed and trembling beneath the heavy burden of his pain. He let loose a loud, animal-like growl that tore at his throat, frustration getting the better of him. He was slowly driving himself insane, in here, by himself. At this rate, he wasn't sure he'd survive until morning.
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Rinoa stepped off the elevator, a small, serene smile on her face. It was a fresh day, a new beginning. Another chance to try and help him.
As she leaning against the desk at the nurses' station, staring down into the glassy black surface of her coffee and frowning at it, she reached with her free hand for her file folder. She set the steaming Styrofoam cup aside, and looked over her schedule for that day. Today she would be taking care of group therapy on her own again. This was to become a regular thing, now that she'd been there a little while. She also had another lecture to attend, and at the end of the day, her second therapy session with Squall. As her eyes reached the bottom of the page, she noticed a green post-it note stuck on the other side of the file folder.
"What's this?" she wondered aloud, peeling off the folder to read it.
"I found that in Mrs. Trepe's folder while I was filing this morning," Margaret explained from behind the desk. "Whoever was working the night shift last night must not have known that Mr. Leonhart is in your care now."
Rinoa frowned slightly and turned her attention back to the note. It was short and simple, stating only that Squall Leonhart had been put into solitary confinement due to violence against his roommate.
"What the hell is this?" Rinoa demanded of no one in particular.
"If you'd like me to call the head nurse on the night shift and ask her to come down, I can," Margaret offered.
"Yes, please do," Rinoa muttered over her shoulder, already on her way to the infamous padded cell. Once there she dug her set of keys out of her coat pocket and shoved open the heavy door. Her frown only deepened when the contents of the room was revealed to her chocolate colored eyes.
Squall sat up against the far wall, much in the same fashion as he had that night. His head was bowed, eyes focused on the floor below him. He was absolutely still, as if he were merely a statue of his former self.
"Squall?" she began softly, cautiously approaching him. It wasn't that she was afraid he would hurt her. It was more that she was afraid she would scare or startle him.
He didn't answer, just kept his eyes trained on the floor. The only way she was sure he was still living was the slight rise and fall of his shoulders. She was now standing right in front of him, but he still didn't look up. Fear crept through her spine. What had this done to him?
She kneeled down beside him, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. "Squall?" she asked again.
He slowly turned his head and raised his eyes to meet hers. There were dark rings beneath his eyes, as if he hadn't slept most of the night, and his eyes made him appear even more withdrawn than usual. Yet still, there was a weakness there, a tiny gleam of hurt and vulnerability amidst the icy, abandoned, depths.
She shook her head slowly, mentally kicking herself for not being there to stop it when this happened. "I'm so sorry, Squall. I didn't know… they didn't tell me until just now."
His shook his head, his mind slowly returning to reality, "It wasn't your fault."
"You look like you haven't slept in ages. Is there anything I can get for you?"
"No, I'm just… tired."
Rinoa nodded her understanding and helped him up. "I'll walk you back to your room so you can get some sleep. I'll alert the nurses not to bother you, and I'll bring you your meds when it's time."
He nodded and followed her silently, his mind for once void of thought after a long night of being utterly, and torturously alone. As the two were passing by the nurses' desk a large, blonde-haired woman with a groggy look upon her face called out to Rinoa.
"You wanted to see me ma'am?"
Rinoa noticed the enraged look on Squall's face and decided that she must be the one responsible. She beckoned for the nurse to follow her, then stopped when she reached the door of Squall's room.
"I'll deal with you in a minute!" she hissed to the nurse before seeing Squall into his room.
He sat on the side of his bed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to free himself from the on-coming headache. "I'll be alright. You don't have to tuck me in or anything," he said sarcastically.
Rinoa smiled at him. "Well, if you're okay then I guess I'll be going." She watched him for a moment, intrigued with how even when it was clear he was miserable, he still seemed so perfect… his pain and vulnerability seemed to give him a strange kind of beauty. She wanted more than anything to know what happened to him last night. Not just what he had done to get put in solitary confinement, but what he went through while he was there. It occurred to her then that she really didn't understand him. But she would give her life just know what went on within that tortured soul of his.
Heat spread through her cheeks as she realized that he was watching her too, half in puzzlement, half in fascination.
(But what could possible be so fascinating about me?)
"Like I said, I'll bring you your medication later on. Just try and get some sleep."
He nodded again, watching her intently through those indescribable eyes. Then he said something that he had never said to anyone since he'd come to the mental asylum. "Thank you."
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Rinoa left his room with a small smile on her face, at least until she saw the nurse that was waiting outside.
"What did you need me for, ma'am?" she demanded.
Rinoa took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves before she began. "Why did you have him put in solitary confinement?"
"He attacked his roommate, Zell," she answered.
"And did you have any proof of this?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.
"Well, Zell woke up screaming, said that someone had attacked him, but he couldn't see who it was in the dark. There was no evidence that anyone from outside, or from another room had been in, so naturally we looked to his roommate. He does have a record of violence, you know."
Rinoa shook her head, displeasure apparent on her face. "You jumped to conclusions. Why would Squall hurt Zell?"
"I don't know, but we noticed that Zell had this strange white strip running over his nose," the nurse replied, running her finger over the bridge of her nose as she spoke.
Rinoa was silent for a moment, but then it all became clear. "Those must have been those Breathe Right strips I gave Squall. Zell has a snoring problem. Why the hell didn't you contact me first before you did this to him?" her voice rose in anger. "Do you have any idea what this is like for him!"
"Ms. Heartilly, we did the best we could."
"I don't want to hear that. From now on when you suspect Squall did something, come and get me first, dammit! And just so you know, Dr. Trepe is not his doctor anymore, I am!"
With those last words she stomped off, leaving the older woman baffled. Rinoa knew that she'd probably hurt her feelings, but at the moment didn't care. How could that woman hurt something so fragile? It didn't seem quite the right description for someone as masculine as Squall, but in a way it was the only one that could fit. Okay, so she could think of several. Grumpy, stubborn, irate, muscular, sexy…
(Stop it, stop it right now!) she commanded herself. Instead of indulging her thoughts, she headed toward the common room to begin another therapy session.
An hour and five minutes later, she was walking down the hall to his room again, holding two small cups, one paper, one plastic. She knocked gently on the door and waiting for a response.
"It's open."
She slowly opened the door, as if worried about what her eyes would be met with, and entered. He was leaned against the wall, gazing out the window just as he was the first time they met. The sunlight streamed in, accentuating the well defined muscles of his arms, and the perfectly formed shape of his face, casting the rest of him in shadows of gray.
"I have your medicine," she announced, barely keeping her eyes from roaming where they shouldn't. "I thought you were going to try and sleep?"
He turned to face her, his eyes giving her a quick once-over before scratching the back of his neck in a sign of nervousness. Were the light not to his advantage, she might've been able to see his blush. "I did, for a little bit. I can't sleep with all this light in the room."
She simply nodded and handed him his medicine, watching carefully while he took it. Once he'd swallowed the pill, she commanded him to open his mouth. He rolled his eyes, but complied. She leaned closer to him, fighting to restrain herself from closing the gap and kissing the life out of him.
(Having a hot patient just isn't easy.)
"Alright," she laughed. "Now, we had an appointment scheduled today, but given the circumstances, I can understand if you'd want to reschedule."
He shook his head. "I've been through worse. And then was dragged to therapy with Quistis."
"Okay, then. Four o'clock this afternoon, an hour before dinner is served. I'll come and get you, okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah, that's fine."
She patted his shoulder, forgetting for a moment that he didn't like to be touched by others, then stood and watched for his reaction, fearing another outburst like what had occurred with Quistis. To her surprise, he only displayed mild irritation, if even that much, in his gaze.
"I'll see you then," she said again, voice soft, and left the room for the second time that day.
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The endless, rhythmic ticking seemed the only sound in the room, save the random shuffling of papers. Squall sat, half-asleep, on the burgundy leather couch where he'd been forced to sit so many times before, and Rinoa stood in front of a filing cabinet, frantically searching through files before finally slamming the last drawer shut.
"I can't believe this! Where the hell did she put your file? I found everyone else's files. How am I supposed to conduct a proper therapy session when I don't have your files?"
Squall opened his eyes and looked at her. "Well, whatever you're going to do, you better do it now 'cause you only forty-five minutes left before I leave."
She put her hands on her hips. "Am I gonna have to lock you in again, Mr. Leonhart?"
"You can't rightfully keep me in here more than the designated time."
Rinoa sighed and seated herself in the chair across from him. "Fine, then. I'll just have to remind myself to ask Trepe about it later. So, are you willing to tell me why you're in here in the first place?"
He smirked slightly. "I don't have to tell you anything. And since you can't fine those files, I guess you'll never know."
"I'm beginning to think you hid them," she replied, shooting him that disapproving gaze she was so fond of.
He threw his hands up in defense. "Don't look at me."
"So tell me then. Why are you here?" When she the look determination on his, she knew that he was going to try his best to keep his secret. So she pouted slightly, giving him her best puppy dog eyes. "Please?"
He sighed and covered his eyes with his hand in exasperation. "Please don't look at me like that," he replied.
She cocked her head to the side. "Why not? Tell me. Please? I'll be forever grateful."
He heaved another disgusted sigh and aimed his eyes at the floor, preparing to tell her what he desperately didn't want to talk about.
"What is this? Do I sense a soft spot in you Leonhart? Not good, not good at all."
He pushed the voice aside and said, "I was committed to the asylum for attempted suicide," he admitted. "Happy now?"
She shook her head, looking at him with a mixture of sadness and disbelief in her eyes. "Why would ever want to do something like that to yourself? You have so much potential, Squall. So many things you could do with your life."
"Shut up," he growled.
"She sounds like Quistis, doesn't she?"
Rinoa was slightly taken aback. Though Squall had never been exactly friendly to her, he'd never spoken so harshly to her before. "Squall, I'm only telling you the truth. You deserve to live a happy life, and I'm sorry that you haven't had one so far. But I want to help you achieve that. Death isn't a way out. There are so many people that care about you."
"How the hell would you know?" he yelled back.
She jumped slightly, but held her composure. "I know there has to be someone out there. Visitor's Day is two days away. Someone's coming to visit you then."
He glared at her sharply, anger intensified to a dangerous degree. "A sign of an amateur… you just assume that you know. Well, you don't have any fucking idea! I don't have anybody! There, I said it, I'm alone. I don't even give a damn about myself anymore! Kinda spoils all your idealistic bull shit, now doesn't it?"
"Amateur…" she repeated softly to herself. There was glint of tears in her eyes, and he instantly felt guilty. Still, he'd never been the type to apologize. He was much too proud, in his own strange way. She stood up slowly, tossing her notepad onto the desk and turning her back to him. "Maybe we should end this session a little early."
He watched her for a moment, part of him wanting to say something, anything that would ease her pain, the other part of him dead-set against it. Finally he stood, and headed to the door in silence.
"Oh, and Squall?" she said in a tremulous voice as he neared the door. When she heard his heavy foot steps come to a stop, she continued. "Even if nobody else does, I do."
For a moment he was confused, not understanding what she said. Then it sunk in. Even if nobody else cared about him, she did. He considered, at first, that she was just trying to make him feel guilty, but decided that her voice had been too sincere. With nothing left to say, he quietly left the room, leaving a broken heart behind him.
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A/N: Okay, I know I said I was going to do visitor's day in this chapter, but the short intro I started working on a few days ago actually turned into ten pages, and I didn't want that long. Also, this obviously shed some light on some of things that make Squall the way he is, and more will be revealed on this in the next few chapters.
Next chapter: Visitor's Day (this time for real), Rinoa searches for Squall's files, and somebody hasn't been taking their medicine.