AUTHORS NOTES

Eh, I have unlisted phone-number, so don't go off and try to find it after this chapter. I took the advise and did not change the ending of this chapter, which is why the raking now is T (yay! T!). Yeah, you guessed it. Shounen ai. If I had ANY male readers, they are so GONE after this chapter. And…. Now the story gets weirder. Yeah. W-e-i-r-d-e-r.

As usual, please tell me what you think, but don't throw rocks at me. They hurt. This chapter is also kind of long, to make up for that super-short chapter 7. sorry 'bout that.

Squall had given up on trying to approach the door without making a sound. The floor underneath him squeaked and complained at his weight, louder for each step he took. When he got back out into the hallway, making his way towards the green door, he noticed that something was different. The light had changed. Instead of the pale greyish white light from the moon, streaks of lights in pure sliver now traced their way across the hallway and the stairs. Squall had no idea where the lights came from, it seemed to spring out of the darkness itself, like small stars floating around the room. Then he saw the fog. A thick, silver shimmering cloud was hovering inches over the red carpet. It felt a little could around Squalls feet and blurred up behind him as he walked, determined not to stop. Somehow, he didn't seem to care too much about the strange change in the environment around him. All he cared about was reaching that door. The walk from Squalls room to Sephrahims seemed endless. When he at last reached the door, he stopped to listen. He hadn't heard the whispering noise for quite a while now. He waited. And, there, he could hear it! Footsteps! Footsteps behind the door!

He fumbled with the keys in his hand but before he could find the right one, the door slid open, just an inch.

"What the fuck is this?" Squall said as he was hypnotized by that crack at the door. He swallowed, then he but his hand against the green wood (didn't it feel a little fuzzy?) and pushed the door open.

The windows in the room were closed, but yet a wind blew in there, catching the bed-drapes and curtains, forcing them into an unnatural dance. Only a thin layer of silver fog floated around the room, and it was very cold. Squall became uncomfortably aware of the thin linen of his pyjamas pants, the only clothing he was wearing. Sephrahim was not resting in the bed were Squall and Seifer had put him hours ago. He was back in his chair again, Squall could se his pale hand resting on the arm of the chair. The thing was, that another hand was clutched gently around Sephrahims. An unfamiliar, black-draped hand. A male shadow were standing on it's knees by the chair. Long, silver-white hair fell down his back, which he had turned to Squall. A black cloak had nestled itself around the unknown mans feet. The fog seemed to rotate around the chair and the man beside it.

Squall had no idea what to do. He just stood there, like as if his feet had been nailed to the floor, staring at the scene before him. Slowly, the mans head turned, the silver hair following the smooth movement as the man looked over his shoulder at Squall. Radiant green eyes narrowed at the young solider and then the man unfolded his legs and rose to his feet in one, slow movement. He was unbelievably tall, and stunningly beautiful, with a face more perfect then all the stars and suns of the universe. The silver slights from the windows behind him highlighted his body and made his hair glow as brilliant as his eyes.

"Hyne" Squall thought, his mind dusky "This must be what angels look like"

With ironic amuse, the mans lips curved, just a little.

"Make no mistake, child" the man spoke, but Squall couldn't see his lips moving "I am no angel, though many has thought me to be so"

"Sephrahim?" Squall felt the weakness of his own voice but he could do nothing about it.

"Close, but no" the replay came loud and clear but yet without any lip-movements "We are the same, but I do not answer to that name"

A reflex of light from the window blinded Squall for a second. When he traced the room to se from where the reflex came, his breath stuck in his throat when he discovered the source. The tall man held a sword in his right hand, a slim katana-blade, but it was the longest sword Squall had seen in his whole life. It must be over 8 foot long! Squall tightened his grip around Grievers hilt, trying to measure the distance between himself and the silver-haired man. Would he have time to shoot before that sword reached him?

"Do not be afraid" the man spoke "If I had wished for your blood, I would already have spilt it. But no, we wish for the same thing, you and I"

For some unknown reason, that Squall himself could not discover, he stepped further into the room, allowing the door to slide shut behind him. He was drawn to this man, like a moth to a flame.

"What would that be?" he asked, his voice dusked by emotions he did not know "What do we wish for?"

"For this boy to live" the man gestured towards Sephrahim who sat in his chair, starring out into the nothingness of his reality.

"But he's in a coma… or something" Squall said, looking at Sephrahim, or the part of him he could se from were he was standing.

" It was meant to be for his own security " the man spoke with a loving gaze at Sephrahim, as one of his gloved hand stroked his hair " But now … It should not have gone this far. That wretched excuse for a human is doing something to him… and what I do not know. I came here to find and perhaps kill him, but instead I found … you "

His eyes turned back to Squall, who felt a sudden chill down his spine as his eyes met with those radiant pools. He stumbled backwards, hitting a bookshelf behind him. A book fell down. Squall looked down at it. It was "The old man and the sea". Then he looked back up at the man, who was now approaching Squall very slowly.

"Somehow … " the man spoke "I must get him back. And you wish for that too, do you not?"

Silently Squall nodded. In the back of his head a desperate voice screamed at him to move, to run, to raise Griever, but Squall didn't quite understand the meaning of the words. When there was only inches between their two bodies, the man stopped, his eyes still locked in Squalls.

"You will help me, will you not?" and now his lips moved as he spoke "Will you not … Squall?"

"Yes" the word came in a silent breath, barley audible to Squall himself.

"Good"

The man gave a shadow of a smile, then he bent so that he and Squall were face to face. With his eyes still locked in Squalls he leaned in closer and pushed his lips against Squalls. They were cold and hard, and a shill rocked Squalls entire body. As the mans tongue slid past Squalls lips, be felt a sparking heat inside his mouth, then a green lightning flashed inside of his mind, and blinded him. Then all faded into black.