Disclaimer: All Squaresoft's, although Squall's nasty mood may have been exaggerated somewhat… I love messing with other people's characters!

A/N: Okay, first FF fic. So if its crap, tell me…in as nice a way as possible of course. You wanna flame, you go right ahead. Sad little people make me laugh hysterically. This contains slash, so if you don't like that I'm saving you the trouble of finding out for yourself and then leaving a disgruntled review. Or you could leave one anyway, I don't mind.

Chapter one: 'Like Father Like Son'

"Why are we here?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"…Why?"

"Because there are some things you need to understand before…well…I have to go away for a bit."

"Go away? Where?"

"That's not important."

"But…don't you love me anymore?"

"How could you say that? You know I love you, and would never leave you if there wasn't a good reason."

"Then why?"

"Because there's going to be war…a bad one. I've been called up to help. As a member of the Freedom Forces I have no choice but to accept."

"But why?"

"…You remember when you asked me about good and evil?"

"Yeah. You told me it was com-pa-licate-et."

"Complicated…yeah. What I meant was that the world's not divided into good and evil, it's never as easy as that. There are two types of people you'll meet through life though: those that need protection, and those that do the protecting. I'm someone that does the protecting, and you will be too someday. But because of this war there are a lot of people that need to be protected now, and it's my job to do that for them. It means that I have to leave you even when my heart's telling me that the only one I need to protect is you."

"…"

"Son…as much as it hurts to do this to you, I have to go. It's my chance to do the thing I was trained to do. I made a promise to give my help to those that needed it, and there's going to be people from every continent depending on the Freedom Forces to keep them safe."

"…"

"Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Yeah…"

"But I promise I'll never leave you. Here…"

"Your Griever chain?"

"Even when I'm not right beside you, I'll always be with you in spirit. This is to seal my promise."

"Dad?"

"If I can't come back…at least there'll always be a part of me in there…watching over you. And this…my gunblade. I want you to have it."

"What'll you fight with though?"

"My love for you. I don't need my gunblade, as long as I have the memory of you leading me on through any darkness. And I know that when you're older, you'll use that to help people, just as I have."

"How do you know?"

"Because you have you're mother's spirit. She was as good and pure as you, and one day, no matter how far astray you may have gone, those qualities will help you to take up this gunblade and fight for what is right and good."

"I won't disappoint you dad."

"I know son."

"When do you have to leave?"

"…Now."

"Will I see you again?"

"I…don't know."

"I love you dad."

"I love you too Squall."


"Squall? Squall?"

"I love you dad."

"Squall?"

"…Dad?"

"Squall! Get up, we're going to be late! Cid's got another mission for us."

Squall jerked awake and sat up in bed, his heart still pounding from the remnants of his dream. Touching a hand to his face, he found tears fresh on his cheeks and wiped them away in irritation. It was unsettling to feel his emotions so unusually close to the surface…what had happened to his carefully constructed wall of ice? Why was he so weak in sleep?

"Squall? Are you up yet? I'm gonna give you to three mister…"

"All right, all right!" Dismissing his unease and replacing it with his usual hostility, he untangled himself from his covers and made his way to the door, slamming his palm against the ID reader to open it. Glaring out, he found himself face to chest with Irvine. Looking up slightly, he adjusted his frown to a heavy scowl. "What do you want?"

"Geez, you help the guy save the world and you still aren't worthy of a courteous good morning." Griped the Sharpshooter, always ready to remind Squall exactly who had been there to save his skin when no one else could. It was a fact that both embarrassed and enraged the commander. He reached out and tapped Squall's head. "Didn't you hear me the first three times? We have to go see Cid, he's got something for us to do."

Squall's glare darkened. "For future reference, don't touch me."

"Oh, well, excuse me mister all powerful commander of Garden, I didn't realise you were allergic to human contact."

"Not all of it, just you."

Irvine seemed slightly annoyed, which gave Squall a slight sense of grumpy satisfaction, but also made him realise he should ease up a little. Tiredness was no reason to alienate the only people who would put up with you.

"I'll bear that in mind. Are you getting dressed or were you planning to turn up to our briefing in just your…briefs?"

Blushing slightly, his slight easing of humour gone, Squall growled deep in his throat. "Go away. I'll be up in ten minutes." With that, he shoved his hand against the reading panel again and closed the door on Irvine's grin. There was nothing more irritating than self-satisfied cowboys this early in the morning, Squall told himself, pulling on a pair of jeans and hauling a shirt over his bare chest. As he sat down to yank on his boots and grumble some more about the irrepressible Sharpshooter, he caught sight of his gunblade, lying across his desk and gleaming in the early morning sunlight. It was as bright as the day his father had given it to him…of course, it had been too heavy to pick up… he remembered how disappointed he'd been…He felt his eyes prick with more tears at the memory of his father and blinked angrily. All these years and he still couldn't forget?

"You're getting soft in your old age." He told himself, securing his boots and jumping up hastily. As he passed the tiny bathroom he ducked inside and frowned into the mirror, noting the hollow shadows under his translucent grey eyes. After running a cold flannel over his face he swept a comb through his drifting curtain of hair and made for the dorm corridor. As his door slid shut behind him he cast a final glance back at the gunblade lying innocuously on his desk.

Emotions weren't worth the trouble.