Chapter 23

This could be the end of everything,

So why don't we go, somewhere only we know?

Somewhere only we know.

Keane, Somewhere Only We Know.

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This has to be a dream.

It's just my imagination, right? That's all it is.

"Rin? Are you in there?"

This can't be real. After all the tossing and turning I'd done, maybe I finally managed to fall asleep, and now I'm just stuck inside this surreal dream.

"Rin?"

He sounds so real.

Instinctively, I found myself climbing slowly out of bed, wincing as my bare feet touched the icy floor tiles. Deep down, I know this is just a dream, but still…I couldn't bring myself to take any chances. What if it really was Squall standing outside my door? What if he really did want to talk?

Steadily, I unlocked the door, perfectly prepared to find the corridor beyond deserted, and ready to denounce myself as crazy for hearing voices in the night. As I slowly opened the door, and peered around the edge into the corridor, I found that it was indeed occupied.

I hadn't imagined any of it. It was all perfectly real.

I stood, frozen to the spot for what seemed like an age, but could only have been a matter of seconds. I wasn't expecting this, I wasn't prepared. I mean, just what are you supposed to do when a former lover with practically no recognition of his past comes knocking on your door in the early hours of the morning, and catches you dressed in your nightgown and sporting the extremely unattractive just-got-out-of-bed hairdo?

Exactly…panic.

"Um, what are you doing here, Squall? I mean, not that I'm not pleased to see you or anything. It's just…um…unexpected, that's all. I mean, if you'd have told me, I'd have been prepared, and…um…dressed and…um, well what are you doing here anyway. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Why do I always babble when I'm nervous? Sometimes I actually think that it's medically impossible for me to just shut up, and stop making a fool of myself.

I think I was onto something there.

He paused, looking more than a little baffled.

"Can, I come in?" he asked, hesitantly.

I let out a huge sigh of relief when I realised that my outburst of inane questioning hadn't led him to run off down the hallway, and opened the door a little wider.

"Sorry, I just needed to talk," he explained as he entered the room, sensing my confusion.

"Um…okay," I replied, not really sure what else to say. If he really does want to talk, I won't be the one to push him into it. "Do you want to sit down?" I asked gently, still a little afraid of frightening him off.

"Sure." As he perched gingerly on the edge of the bed, I could tell that he was feeling out of place, as though he didn't belong here. Whether he felt that he didn't belong here at Garden, or here in my room in the middle of the night, I couldn't tell, but I was beginning to suspect the latter.

There was an awkward silence as I sat down next to him, not too close, I hoped, as to make him feel uncomfortable, but not too far away either. The last thing I wanted him to think was that I didn't want him to be here.

I stared forlornly at the floor as we spent the next few minutes in silence. It was only when I looked up that I realised he'd been staring at me.

"What is it?" I demanded.

"Oh…nothing," he replied as a sly smile formed on his face.

Just what is he smiling about?

"Tell me."

"It's nothing…really."

There was definitely something up. He was almost on the verge of laughter.

"You'd better tell me what's so funny." I was starting to get annoyed now.

After a few more moments, he could hold out no longer, and he burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry. It's just…it's just your hair."

I rushed to the bathroom mirror, and suddenly became acutely aware of just how terrible I actually looked. Tossing and turning whilst you're trying to sleep does not, it would appear, have a beneficial effect upon hair. I looked as if I had just been on the receiving end of a very nasty electric shock. I scrambled around desperately trying to find my hairbrush. I opened drawers, checked under the pile of clothes that had accumulated on my chair, checked under my bed, but it was nowhere to be found.

It was then that I noticed Squall.

"Is this what you're looking for?" he asked, innocently, holding up my hairbrush like a trophy.

"Give me that," I shouted, snatching it from his hand before frantically trying to comb my hair down.

"Just how long were you going to let me look for that?" I asked, indignantly. "I cannot believe that you find my hair funny.

He held both of his hands up in protest.

"Hey, I never said I found it funny. I like it, it's an…um…interesting new style," he protested.

"Meanie," I retorted, punching his arm. It was meant to hurt, but instead, it just made him laugh even harder. Eventually, I could take it no longer, and collapsed, laughing hysterically on the bed.

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It was several minutes before we both regained our composure, and then the uncomfortable silence began once more. To me, it felt as though words would be futile. I wanted to say thank you, for making me laugh. It had been so long since the last time I had found any joy in the world, that I had almost forgotten what it felt like.

For once, it was left to Squall to break the silence.

"Thank you."

"What for?" I asked, puzzled. Shouldn't it be me who was thanking him?

"Well, for lots of things really. For not turning me away at the door, for making me laugh, for not murdering me when I made fun of your hair. I really came here to thank you for coming with me to Garden. I…I know it can't be easy for you."

"I was a little scared at first," I admitted, "but I'm glad I came. I left a lot of things up in the air when I left, and now I've got a chance to explain myself to certain people."

"Well, I know I asked a lot of you by coming here and I think it's only fair that you know how much I appreciate it."

I didn't know how to respond to this unusual show of emotion and gratitude, so I asked the first question that came into my head.

"Has it helped, being here? Do you remember anything more?"

He shook his head. "Not much, just a few little things really. I remember you waking me up one morning and demanding that I take you on a tour and something about going to the training centre for a date, but that's about it."

I had to really focus to stop myself from laughing.

"That wasn't a date, silly, I was just joking. You were showing me around, and being really dull about it, like a tour guide, so when you showed me the training centre, I jokingly said that you'd take a girl there on a first date. It didn't actually happen."

"Good, I was beginning to think that I was a real loser."

"Nah, just a little uptight," I replied.

"Not much has changed has it?" he asked, glumly, and the smile gave way to a frown that made him appear as if he was thinking too much.

"What do you mean?"

"Whilst I've been here, I've been completely unbearable, haven't I? What with me losing my temper and screaming at everyone, it's a wonder you're still here."

"Don't say that Squall."

"I mean it. I've been taking out my frustration on everyone and everything, and the last thing I want to do is to take it out on you."

"Squall?"

I couldn't believe he was saying this. Were things for him really this bad? Losing your memory is something that I just can't comprehend, because for the last four years of my life, they're the only thing I've been living off. Maybe I should have been thinking less of myself and more of Squall. I could have been more supportive, I could have helped him more than I have done. A wave of guilt washed over me, as I realised just how selfish I had been.

"Rinoa, I don't know why, but you're the only person I can remember. I…I…"

I could sense what he wanted to ask me. The pained expression that appears on his face as he tries to say those words is familiar to me, but I can't expect him to say them, just now.

"Squall, I'd be delighted to help you if that's what you want."

The look of relief that flooded over his face when I expressed what he couldn't was evident. It would seem that things don't change all that much over four years. Squall Leonhart still does not know how to ask for help.

"Thank you," he whispered, before pausing, unsure of what to do. After appearing to weigh up is options, he awkwardly put his arms around me. "Thank you." After just a few moments he tried to pull away, but before I knew what I was doing I was pulling him back, even closer to me. He didn't seem to mind, though. At least he wasn't trying to throw me off him. In fact, he seemed to be more comfortable and the awkwardness in his manner was gone.

I couldn't describe it, but it just felt…I don't know…right, as if it was somehow meant to be.

"Squall?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind staying for a little while longer?

For once, I was glad that he didn't utter a word. I took the silence, and the fact that he was pulling me even closer to him, as an unequivocal yes.

A/N: I want to apologise profusely to everybody that was reading this and waiting for an update. What, between exams, working all summer, and starting university, I haven't had a whole lot of time on my hands. Hopefully, that will change now that everything's settled down, and I hope to be updating regularly again. Thanks to everybody who has been reading and reviewing this story. Hope you haven't lost interest because of the long wait.