Short chapter! D: The bit at the end is rather evil, I think, but don't kill me. I promise that I won't take so long to update, though it'll be at least a week, with iliyana visiting next week. :D

Zell POV

"Shit. Shit, Squall, shit."

"Shut up," he hissed at me, pressing a wad of cloth against his side, cool as a fucking cucumber even when bleeding to death in the middle of a battle. "Someone will hear you. Just make sure no one tramples on me and I'll be fine."

"You got it, baby!" I nod, standing up and grinning in the face of a rather confused looking attacker. With a quick gesture they don't register, I cast thunder and watch in satisfaction as the man falls back. A punch to the solar plexus and a further knee in his groin mean this guy ain't gonna be bothering me again anytime soon. I spare a quick curaga for Squall, but don't waste time hanging around waiting for him to glare at me. "Hey, piece of shit, pick on someone your own size!"

Okay, Selphie's not that much smaller than me. Three inches or so? But she's a girl, and three on one ain't fair.

One guy turns towards me.

One guy down.

"Squall, you okay there? I can get Seifer if -"

"I'll be fine." He takes a deep breath and casts a curaga, the wound closing a little with the sparkles of healing magic dancing around it. Squall leans back, keeping the wadded up cloth – someone's shirt, by the looks of it – against his side. "Can't rush healing this, might be dirty. Just guard me, Zell, and stop talking. And don't bring Seifer, whatever you do. He'll go nuts. Have some sense, Zell."

I consider that and nod reluctantly. From the way they were wrapped around each other earlier, there's probably... hell, there's definitely something going on between them, and there's one thing I know from painful experience. Seifer Almasy does not let people damage something of his and get away with it. Somehow I could see him considering Squall as his and extending that rule to him.

Granted, it's not quite Balamb Garden down here, but I'm sure Seifer's old ways would serve him just as well down here.

Looking through the fray, I catch sight of Medea. Right, bitch. You're going down.

"Stay there, Squall!" I tell him, and he rolls his eyes.

"I don't think I can move right now anyway. Just do what you have to do. I can still cast spells."

It's a pity we can't use GFs down here for fear of hitting our own. Squall would still pack a serious punch, injured or not, if he could summon Shiva.

"I'll be right back!" I promise, and run through to get to the girl. At one point I almost have to stop and deal with someone, but Quistis turns, downing the guy in one expert crack of the whip. I thank her quickly, but I ain't sticking around. I have a little treacherous shit to catch.

It's pathetically anti climatic as I grab her from behind, hand clamping over her mouth so she can't shout for help, fist connecting with the side of her head hard enough to knock her out. Her body goes limp immediately and I pick her up, roughly, making my way back to Squall and dropping her beside him.

"Present for you." At his grunt, I narrow my eyes and squat on my heels beside him. "How are you now, Squall?"

He looks up at me, pupils dilated a bit from pain, and rolls his eyes. "Just fine."

I look down at the cloth pressed against his side. "Oh no, Squall, you don't get away with that. Look at it. You're bleeding enough for all the special effects for the most gory movie ever. I'm going to get Seifer."

"Don't be fucking stupid," he hisses, shifting slightly, but blanching even more at the pain. I hold my hands just above the wound and whisper curaga, only to find that I don't have any left.

"Shit."

"What?"

"Out of curaga."

"I've got some," he says, and starts to gesture for the spell. I grab his hands, holding them still, and shake my head. No way is he casting spells when he's like this, takes too much god damn energy.

"No way. Let me get someone, if you won't let me get Seifer, someone must have curagas on them."

"I'll be fine, Zell, shut up!" he says, and promptly passes out.

Seifer POV

"Seifer! Shittin' hell Almasy, are you deaf!"

I was tempted to knock chickenwuss's head off for that, but with the frantic look on his face, I thought he might wet himself if I made a single wrong move and so I just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Squall's hurt, he – what the fuck! Almasy -"

I raised Hyperion, swinging it over the little punk's head, making sure to clip the tips of his spiked-up bangs as I behead the guy who was trying to take him out. "You should be thanking me, chickenwuss. You owe me one."

"No time. Squall -"

That's the second time he mentioned Squall and broke off. I step aside as he steps forward, driving his fist into a man's stomach and propelling him back.

"Now we're even," Zell says, but he shows none of the triumph he should. He takes a deep breath, hand on my arm, tugging. "I came to find you because Squall's injured. He's lost too much blood and he's passed out."

"Fuck!" I glare at him. "And it took you this long to tell me!"

"You're the one fucking about. Come on." For once, I follow chickenwuss without arguing. Fuck, whoever hurt Squall... they'd better already be dead, or they'll wish they were by the time I'm through with them.

Thoughts of vengeance fly from my mind when I see him there, propped up against a wall, bleeding his life out. He's awake again, eyes half closed in pain. "Squall," I say softly, and he looks up, business as usual immediately.

"Think it got my lung or something, but I'd be dead by now if it had... can't breathe too well."

"That could just be you being an idiot," I growl at him, bending down to look at the wound. It's deep, but it shouldn't be stopping him breathing so well... he's probably just unconsciously holding his breath, if he breathed out I think it would hurt more. I don't touch the wound, searching it with my eyes. "If I cure and it's infected..."

"Kadowaki can deal with it, just stop the bleeding. No need to fully close the skin, just stop the bleeding," he says, softly.

Our eyes lock for a moment, his determined, and I nod. "Right. No bitching and whining if it goes septic."

"'kay."

Curaga after curaga, our eyes hold. He seems to breathe easier for a moment and I stop, hoping that this will be enough, seeing the mostly healed gash in his side.

He touches my arm and looks at me, breathless, a trickle of blood spilling down from a bitten lip, and drags me close to kiss him. I taste blood on him and fuck, it's intoxicating, steel and gunpowder and Squall. He falls back, gasping softly, and looks up into my eyes. "Love you," he whispers, closing his eyes, and with the meaning of his words sinking in, it takes me a moment to realise he's not just resting his eyes.