Now that the world isn't ending
It's love that I'm sending to you
It isn't the love of a hero
And that's why I fear it won't do....

-"Hero," Chad Kroeger

December got a call from Selphie the next day. Squall had slept on the recliner in December's living room, and his group was wondering where he was.
December answered the phone, found out who it was, and handed the phone to me. "This is your forte." With that, she walked off. I held the receiver up to my ear.
"Hello?"
"Seifer? This is Selphie." I groaned to myself.
"Yes?" I asked.
"Have you seen Squall? We're all really worried about him." I could just picture her chewing nervously on her bottom lip.
"Yeah, he's here." I informed her.
"Oh! Good! We were so worried..." She trailed off. "We can come pick him up..."
I looked over at Squall, who was staring into the fires longingly. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Selphie. We'll take care of him."
A pause. "Alright, I'll tell Zell. We're glad he's alright, though." She paused again. "Can you let him know we were worried about him?"
"Will do." I told her. We said goodbye and hung up, then I went and sat in the chair next to Squall.
"You didn't have to do that." Squall said, not looking at me.
"Do what?"
Squall didn't reply right away, but I waited, knowing that Squall was just trying to get the right words together.
"Saddle yourself with me. I can take care of myself, you don't have to keep me away from them."
"Looks to me like you can't take care of yourself." I informed him. "Honestly, I'm not surprised, you've had a fucked up life. But all of us have, and we're better equipped for this than you are." I smiled. "Besides, it's not like it's a huge burden having you here. You've barely said three words in the past 24 hours."
Another pause. "I need to face her, Seifer."
"Eventually." I nodded. "You can stay here as long as you need. December already said so."
"Your girlfriend?"
"Ex-girlfriend. We broke up last night."
"...What?"
I chuckled. "Women. Who understands them?" I stood up, my heart racing, as I walked up to my room. I wasn't going to tell him I still loved him. Nothing I had was worth that.
Squall and I were just now able to get along again, after our breakup. I didn't want to risk losing that.
It just wasn't worth it.

Another day, another week. Squall was still there. He seemed so listless, but December was doing her best to bring him out of it. Every day she made him come with us to Diablos, and every day he'd do open mic night, singing along with an acoustic guitar that December had laying around (She played that and a myriad of other instruments). I think it helped; the music he wrote was pretty good. He has a talent, and always has since before we dated. I wasn't surprised to hear that his group had gotten a record deal; I just wondered what his sudden disappearance was doing for their rep.
It was about two in the morning tonight. We'd just gotten home from Diablos and settled down into our customary positions in front of the fireplace. December made something to eat and coffee, and then she went to bed. It had been a long day and she was exhausted.
Squall and I sat there for a while. I glanced over at him and for about the millionth time that week I had to tell my heart to start beating again. He's...there's no way to describe Squall, really. He's beautiful, even for a boy, and something...something about him just makes me want to protect him from whatever it is that life has to throw out at him. I love him, so that's probably part of it...but...
Ah, fuck it. I thought to myself. I settled down in the recliner, leaning back and starting to fall asleep. Occasionally I'd sleep down here; it was warmer by the fire, and the recliner was pretty comfortable.
"Seifer?" I heard Squall say, quietly. I sighed and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
"Yes?"
"What's wrong with me?"
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I thought you'd know...I mean..since..." He couldn't bring himself to say it.
"I'd know what?" Remember, I'd just been brought from an almost-sleep to answer this question.
"What makes people cheat on me?" He said, bluntly. He looked away, but he didn't leave, so I figured he wanted to know.
My heart skipped a beat, and I inhaled. "There's nothing wrong with you, Squall." I said, carefully choosing my words. "Rinoa's just...a bitch. She's stupid to have left you for Quistis."
"Didn't you?"
I sighed. Not this argument again. "I got drunk, Squall. If I'd been sober, do you honestly think I would have slept with Quistis? Because I know I wouldn't have."
"Not an excuse."
I pondered this. "You're right. It's not an excuse. However, it's an explanation. I would never, without the influence of something that, frankly, makes me into a raging idiot, have hurt you." I sat up in the chair and looked at him. "Do you still believe, that after all of this shit, that I went out of my way to hurt you?"
He looked away, then peered up at me from underneath his longish bangs. "No, I don't suppose you would." He looked away again. "So...Why, though? Why me? Why does this always happen to me?"
I snorted. "Squall, you're definitely not the only person who's ever been cheated on twice. You're just possibly the most fucked up one in that situation." This time he snorted.
I lay back in the recliner and tucked my blanket back around me, once again starting to fall asleep. I was at the point of no return when I felt someone touch my hair; leather gloves that could have belonged to either Squall or December. Part of me wanted to wake up and make sure it wasn't a dream, but the other part of me was certain it was a dream, especially when lips touched mine lightly. Because I knew those lips, and they belonged to Squall.

I didn't tell anyone about my weird dream; I think it was part lust and part wishful thinking. The next morning, I got up and put a fresh pot of coffee on. Neither Squall nor I does well without a ton of caffiene in the morning, although December seems to be fine no matter how much sleep she got, where she went to sleep, what position she was in...nothing.
The phone rang. December was still asleep, and although she didn't have a problem with me answering the phone, I usually just didn't. I frowned; Squall was stirring. I didn't want the phone to wake him up, so I answered the phone.
"Hello?" I asked, quietly.
"Seifer? Hey, it's me, Ron, from the meetings?" I heard a tenor voice ask me.
"Oh, hi, what's up?" I asked, confused. Why would Ron, the secretary of my meetings, call me at....I looked at the clock...eleven in the morning?
"Well, today I'm doing a thing at a rehab center in Timber." Ron said. "I need someone to go with me. I'm the secretary of the meeting, but I need a meeting leader."
"O...kay...." I said.
"I was wondering if you'd come with me." His voice was cheerful. "We'd be back by six and I think you have a lot of knowledge to impart."
"Why me?" I blurted out.
"Because you've come a long way in two weeks, first of all, and because service is one of the twelve Traditions." I could practically hear the evil grin. "And trust me, it does help."
I pursed my lips, glanced at Squall, and made a decision. "Sure. Do you know where I'm staying?"
"At December's house." Everyone knew December.
"Yeah."
"I'll be there in an hour. Be ready."
"I will." I hung up with him and finished making the coffee, and then stood over Squall and watched him sleep. He really was beautiful. I brushed a strand of his hair out of his face. His eyes opened, and I jumped back and yelped.
"Geez, warn a guy." I said, blushing furiously.
He didn't say anything about me touching him, but instead looked directly up at me and asked "Going somewhere?"
I nodded. "I'm gonna jump in the shower real quick, but the guy who runs my meetings wants me to help him out at a rehab thing in Timber. I'll be back by six."
His brow furrowed, but he nodded. I took a shower, gelled back my hair, and put on a blue shirt, black jeans, and my jacket that December had made for me. Looking in the mirror, I was stunned to find that I looked...almost exactly like I had a year ago. As if...the drugs had never happened. My fingertips found the mirrored surface and traced my jawline, my hair, found my eyes.
"You cleaned up well." Squall's voice said from behind me. I whirled around and saw him leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed, eyes shaded. "I had to use the bathroom and you were hogging it up with your weird mirror obsession."
"Whatever." I said, waving him off. I went to go tell December (who was awake in her room, and sewing something) that I was going down to Timber with a guy from my meetings and I'd be back by six. She nodded acceptance.
"I'll take care of Squall, don't worry." She said, grinning.
I smiled at her and shut the door to her room. Starting downstairs, I looked at the bathroom door (shut firmly) and then continued on my way.

Ron met me in front of the house in his car. He greeted me cheerfully and we started on the road to Timber. It wasn't that long of a drive; Ron has a car that'll get to 120 miles an hour, so we booked it and made it in about an hour. He assured me that this was good because the workshop started at 1:30 and it was 1:00.
We got everything set up, and then the workshop people from the rehab clinic walked in. I did a double-take; one of them was Jezebel.
She looked a little better; not as thin and her hair was shorter, cleaner, and brushed. She was wearing a blue tank top and jeans.
She saw me and looked away, not recognizing me. I wasn't all that surprised. I looked a lot different, better, and I wore clothing indisitinguishable from my Rage persona.
The workshop started with Ron telling us about his story; how he was in his fifties (which surprised me) and he'd just recently gotten clean and sober within the past few years. His daughters had hated him, his wife had threatened divorce, and he was facing prison. Five years later, he was clean, his oldest daughter had just graduated high school and was considering college, and his wife and him had just gone on their second honeymoon at Esthar.
"This program works for anyone who wants it to work." He concluded. "If you are here and you don't want to be here, there's nothing I can do for you, no miracle that can turn your life around. The program works for you if you work for it." He nodded. "Next, I want my friend Seifer to share his story."
I blinked; he hadn't told me about this part. I was on the spot; Ron didn't even know my whole story. The room focused on me, so I inhaled and began.
"This program is all about anonymity, but that doesn't exactly work for me." I said, shakily. "Most of you probably know me; I was the Sorceress' Knight in the second war." I coughed at the undercurrent of surprise and some disgust that suddenly ran through the room. "I'm not going to try to pawn it off on mind control; I made the decision to side with Edea, and then later on, with Ultimecia."
"Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be special, to be famous, to achieve greatness. I watched the Sorceress movie that Laguna Loire was in when I was growing up at an orphanage. This was before the sorceress Edea went berzerk; she ran the orphanage. We called her Matron. And she showed us the movie one night to keep us entertained. I ran up to her and told her that I wanted to be her knight. We all sort of knew that she was a sorceress, and that she was special, but she'd never exactly said it. She laughed and patted me on the shoulder, and told me that she didn't need a Knight right now." I shook my head. "So when she offered me the chance, years later, I took her up on the offer. I was really, really stupid."
"I ended up fighting the same people I'd grown up with; Squall Leonhart, Zell Dincht, Irvine Kinneas, Selphie Tilmitt, and even my ex-girlfriend Rinoa Heartilly. All because I wanted to be someone."
"When it was all over, I felt..so stupid, so worthless. I ditched my friends Fujin and Raijin in Balamb and headed towards Dollet. I just wanted to forget. Forget that I even existed."
I had the entire room's attention now, even Ron's, and I felt a little better. Jezebel was eyeing me.
"I was homeless when I got to Dollet. I slept wherever I felt safe. One day, a guy named Jake found me and took me back to his place, and we got stoned. Weed didn't make me forget, but it made me feel happy, which was something I'd given up on a long time before. Jake also introduced me, a few weeks later, to cocaine. I felt invicinble on coke; I felt as if I could take on the world and win. So of course I was hooked."
"For a year I was spun, tweaked, or stoned every day of my life. I lived in a shitty hotel that cost twenty bucks a week, and I did stupid side work at a bar for money. I started smoking cigarettes again, and basically, I was just about the biggest asshole on the planet."
"I didn't go by my real name. Squall had circulated papers around about six months after the war, looking for me, and I definitely didn't want to be associated with Seifer Almasy. I never gave my new friends my real name, but because I seemed so angry all of the time they gave me the nickname Rage." At this, Jezebel's head shot up and she looked directly at me, peircingly.
I paused. "One day, I ran into Irvine Kinneas. He was doing undercover work as a SeeD in Dollet; all of them were. Squall, Zell, Rinoa, Quistis, Selphie, and Irvine. They were trying to bust up the drug underground, and I was caught up in it. Quistis tried to warn me, but I told her to fuck off."
I laughed. "I'd made friends with the owner of a local bar, the bar I worked at for money. She got involved in it, and in the end the cops burned her bar down because they thought she was a drug runner. So I helped her rebuild; I felt like it was my fault. For a month I was too busy to do any drugs. There wasn't any time to get stoned or spun. So when Diablos opened again, I was right there with her. She knew who I was, and she hired me as a fulltime bartender. The first night Squall and his group showed up to play; their band they'd been using as a cover had gotten so popular that they had a record deal. I left the bar and just sort of wandered around, and found a library. It was the library where Jake had found me a year before, so I went in."
"A woman asked me if I was there for the NA meeting. I asked her what NA was, and she told me. I went in. That was two weeks ago." I laughed. "I almost introduced myself as Rage at that first meeting, I was so scared of what people would think, but I just told myself that...I was changing. If other people couldn't change, that was their problem. You know?" I stopped then, and looked around. I couldn't see a single hate-filled face; most people looked thoughtful. Jezebel looked closed-up.
A few other people shared their stories, and then we did the workshop, which was a fourth step workshop. The fourth step says "Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves." Ron had us each take a piece of paper and a pen, and list all of the qualities about ourselves that we could think of--both good and bad. Then we'd pick one thing we wished we had--not physical, a quality we wished we had--and write an essay about it. He and I read our essays to the group. Then we invited others to read. If they wanted to.
I wrote my essay on letting go. I said that I had a problem letting go of the past, and it continually haunted me. If I could just let go of the past, I'd never have gotten involved with drugs in the first place. I wrote about Zell, who always focuses on the present, and how I wish I could do that.
We were done by four-thirty, and I felt like I'd accomplished something. Ron was right; this service stuff was useful.
I was standing next to him while he gathered his stuff up when Jezebel came up to me.
"So you're clean." She said. "...Seifer."
I nodded acknowledgement.
She snorted. "Good luck." With that, she walked off, and I was briefly confused. Was she wishing me good luck, or was she being sarcastic? I couldn't tell, but then I shrugged and went back to helping Ron.
"Old friend?"
I laughed. "She was Jake's buddy, not mine."
"Ah. Well, then, she's right where she needs to be." He snapped the case he'd brought the stuff in shut, and we walked back to his car.
"The past can come back to haunt us." Ron said. "But I find that it's best not to dwell on it, simply because it's done and over with. Asking 'what if' never helps." He grinned. "Focus instead on what the future may bring; if you're lucky, today was a good day, and tomorrow will be as well."
I nodded.
"I hope that helps, my friend."