The Fragile Dreamers

Author's Note: Greetings! This story will hopefully span many a chapter, if my plans go correctly. There only major thing in this story that I have changed from the original game is that Irvine will not be making an appearance, nor will they discuss him. I just really disliked him, and tend to write those people out of my stories, unless they can further the plot. Some sexuality differences, but hey, I need to have some fun.

Disclaimer: I do not own the character of Final Fantasy VIII, Squaresoft does. Duh.

I can't run anymore,
I fall before you,
Here I am,
I have nothing left,
Though I've tried to forget,
You're all that I am,
Take me home,
I'm through fighting it,
Broken,
Lifeless,
I give up,
You're my only strength,
Without you,
I can't go on,
Anymore,
Ever again.

"October" by Evanescence

Chapter One: Another Façade Crumbles

The room was dark, moonlight played shadows creeping toward the bed like wraiths. She sat, shivering, huddled in a tight ball against the headboard. Tears ran down her face, silently. The one thing she didn't want was to awaken the man sitting in a chair across the room.

At the age of twelve Rinoa Heartily already knew fear. She wished she had had a different life all along, that she wasn't cursed with the one she was given. Some called her lucky, that she was the daughter of a well-known and well-respected politician, but they never saw what lurked beneath the surface. They never knew what happened when the sun fell beneath the horizon, how night after night she sank sullen, defeated into an abyss of other's sick fantasies.

It started with just her father, slinking into her room, trying not to wake her. Sometimes before the sun was about to rise, others when the sun had just set and her hair was still damp from the shower. Whispering sweet words in her ear, he would straddle her and warn her against saying anything loudly or to anyone else after the fact.

Soon it became clear that other politicians, sometimes the leaders of groups her father was trying to win a vote with, were the ones sneaking in through windows, opening the door with a slight creak, followed by her father. Always they had their way, thanked him, and left without another word.

Scared to death of what her father would do to her if she told anybody, she went on, smiling for the cameras. By the time she was thirteen she had perfected the fake smile, known how to avoid the right questions, and be the person her father needed her to be.

Inside, she was crumbling, falling apart. Lost in the darkness that shrouded her, she began her own rituals. Each night, after the visitor left, she made sure that her father was safely down the hall before rising from her bed.

The soft carpeting met her bare feet as she padded gently down the hallway, the door to the bathroom looming, offering a dark release.

When her father discovered blood on the bathtub one day, he began sleeping in her room with her after the company left. He told her that if he ever caught her doing what he suspected her of doing, he would be forced to get professional help for her, and how would that make him look to the press? Not even able to control his own daughter! She wouldn't want to ruin his career, would she?

Now all she did was cry herself to sleep, clutching her skinny legs to her chest. She was so tired of trying to fight this, so tired of everything…

Rinoa awoke, grabbing at the air. Her hair clung to her forehead by sweat and her breathing was heavy and rapid. The nightmare memories had always come and gone, but lately they seemed to have intensified. It was over; she was away from her father, and strong enough to fight back.

Still… she was drenched in a cold sweat, and the spot in the bed beside her was empty. Running her hand along the expanse of white sheet, she felt it was cold. Wherever he was, Squall had been gone for awhile.

She threw the covers off her and slipped out of the bed. Her silken nightgown rippled in the breeze coming through the French doors that led out to the balcony. They had remained in Balamb Garden after the sorceress incident, as had all the others. Edea was with Cid at the orphanage, and in his absence Quistis was headmistress of the school.

Squall stood motionless, letting the forgiving moonlight roll down his body. He was only wearing a pair of black pajama pants. Even in the low light, she could tell that the back facing her was well-defined. His head was lowered, hands gripped firmly on the railing.

"Squall?" she asked tentatively.

He didn't move at first. The wind ruffled his light brown hair as she made her way to his side. Reaching out one arm, her hand was hovering over his bicep when he spoke, making her freeze where she was. "Please, don't touch me."

Retracting her comforting hand, she asked, "What's wrong?"

His face turned to meet hers. Eyes glistened with tears and his forearms shook from gripping the rail so tightly. When he spoke it was filled with a subtle rage. "He still has his hold over you."

This wasn't completely uncommon. Ever since Seifer's betrayal, and his arrogant mouth telling Squall all about their relationship, Squall had taken her nightmares to be about him, not her father. Rinoa couldn't tell him the truth, what she really woke about in the middle of the night. It was too painful, and she wasn't sure she would be able to give it proper wording, so she allowed him to continue thinking about his archenemy. It was safer.

"I told you, we can't control our dreams… how long has this one been going on?" She asked, wondering why the bed was cold.

"About half an hour. I woke at the beginning and came out here." His eyes turned from tearful mourning to slowly building rage. "Please don't tell me that you still think about him."

"Squall, he was nothing to me. It was a dumb summer fling, that's all."

"Yes, but you came back for him!"

"Only to get his help! And remember, our dance? I got yours instead, which seems to me the much better choice." By this point they were inches away from each other, and Rinoa took the moment to close the distance between their lips.

Salty tears made his kiss taste like the ocean, and as it became more intense Squall pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her body as if it were the last thing on the planet. He pulled away to catch a quick breath and dived back in, loving her the best he could. All he really wanted to do was forget the past, forget all that had happened. But if she was still having dreams about him, albeit nightmares, obviously he was still on her mind. So he had to put all his trust in her that she was true to him, that she was faithful.

The kiss seemed to last forever. To Rinoa it would almost be better if it did. If they were lost, in this moment, for all eternity. But eternity never happened, and they pulled apart.

Squall turned from her as fresh tears fell from his worn eyes, and he went back into the bedroom. Rinoa knew better than to follow him, at least this soon. She faced the open plains beneath them. In the distance she could make out the lights of Balamb. Stars above her, peaceful plains below her, this was how she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

Peace couldn't last forever, and she knew it. Even Rinoa the Dreamer wasn't that naïve. But when that time came, she would be ready for it.

Taking in the scenery one last time, she spun around and walked into the bedroom. Squall was already asleep on the bed. She curled up next to him. Her touch caused him to roll over, spooning. And together they drifted back into the realm of the dreams.

The next morning greeted Zell away from the safety of the Garden. Like every morning he was taking a jog. Unlike most morning, however, he was lost in deep thought. Usually he told himself to focus on the exercise, to push himself to the limits. Lately, however, his mind has been hovering on things the preoccupied his usual determination.

About a week ago he was walking along in the halls when he bumped into Squall. Not a strange occurrence, but this time he literally bumped into him. Squall thought nothing of it, of course, but it awakened something deep within Zell.

The blonde felt some pull at his inner demons, at that place in his mind reserved for the darkest of thoughts, and something let go. In an instant he was alerted to the fact that maybe, just maybe, there might have been a stronger bond that held him to Squall than simple friendship.

It soon became apparent that Squall didn't share any of these feelings. Not that Zell came outright and asked Squall anything, he just got close enough over the past few days to ask the right questions to get the answers he needed.

It was terrible, knowing that now he had a secret. What made it worse was that he knew he could, and should, share it with everyone, all his friends, but he didn't want to. They would be sympathetic, but what he wanted from this was empathy, not sympathy.

Clearing his mind, pushing all the thoughts back, he picked up the pace and sprinted down the field, the sunlight flying over his ripped, short body.

Selphie had had enough. She couldn't take all this… anymore. It was too much bearing down on her. Running around her room, she flung as many clothes into a small black backpack as she could. There was only one solution: she had to get away. From here, from the people, from everything that bothered her.

So much had changed in her life since the Sorceress War. The nice façade that hung around her, the mask that she showed people of a happy girl, was slowly deteriorating into blank nothingness. She was not used to being well-known, well-liked, given responsibilities. Not even twenty, and she had to think of everyone around her before acting.

Thinking she was about done, she ripped the pack off her bed, slung it on her shoulders, grabbed her weapon, and opened her bedroom door, ready to make a run for it.

Quistis stood, framed in the doorway, her hand poised as if to knock. "Selphie!" she exclaimed.

Selphie was caught in an awkward situation. "Uh… hi… Quistis," she mumbled. "I really ought to get going!"

"Wait," Quistis said, not allowing the smaller girl to get around her and out into the hallway. "What are you doing?"

Before Selphie could grab for a lame excuse that she knew wouldn't work, a look of shock filled Quistis' eyes. The girl with honey hair stared at the older woman with fear as she fell to the floor.

It was up to Selphie to make a decision. One of her best friends laid before her, obviously in need of some help. She could help her, but what would that mean? It would mean her staying here, in this suffocating place, for at least an undeterminable amount of time. On the other hand, this was her chance to escape for good.

Seeing Quistis groping blindly for something to hold on to and finding nothing but air inspired a level of guilt and pain inside Selphie. The instructor fell limp to the floor at last.

Kneeling by her side, Selphie felt for a pulse. Finding one, however faint it may be, relieved her a little of the guilt she felt by the actions she took next. Standing, she looked around for anymore people.

Realizing that now she may never know just what Quistis wanted to say to her, she ran down the hall to get out of the life she never asked for.