Final Fantasy VIII and all characters belong to Square Enix. Lyrics are "Join Me/Join Me in Death" and belong to the band HIM. This story was originally posted in 2005 – updating now after many more years of experience!
The wind tasted of salt and sea as he lowered himself on the beach, feeling each grain shift beneath him as he settled into the cool sand. Leaning forward, he started unlacing black boots with cold fingers. Stuffing the socks inside, the man spread out his toes, enjoying the simple pleasure of feeling sand run between them. Sighing, he leaned back on his elbows, craning his head up to look at the stars. A full moon shone overhead, surrounded by tiny pinpricks in the deep blue canopy of midnight. Bathed in moonlight, the man's pale skin shone, making him seem almost ethereal.
A breeze ruffled the man's choppy locks, calming the nerves threatening to overtake him. He sat back up, hugging his knees to his chest. The moon shone over the sea and shimmered, making his gray eyes sparkle slightly too. The tide was coming in, inching closer with every swell. Squall rested his chin on his knees, allowing himself a moment to enjoy the silence around him – no people, no animals, no machines; just the sound of waves crashing to shore. For the introverted Commander, it was nearly perfect. Only one thing was missing.
We are so young,
Our lives have just begun
But already we're considering
Escape from this world
Leaving his head on his knees, he reached out a hand to caress Lionheart, ensuring the gunblade still lay in the sand by his side. The feeling of cold metal sent a shiver through him, but it comforted him at the same time. It was his most prized possession, and in the moonlight the blue glow of the blade complemented his celestial appearance under the night sky. He lay a hand on the blade, feeling the cool metal on his palm, before tearing his eyes away from the rolling sea. He instead took in his weapon, looking at it lying in stark contrast to the nearly white sand. He'd left the case back in his room at Garden, knowing there was no reason to bring it with him.
With a nod imperceptible to anyone but himself, he closed his long fingers around the handle, picking up Lionheart to rest in his lap. He touched Griever's wing lightly, noticing the worn places where the icon had become battle-scarred.
'Like me.' He thought, considering his own marred body. Absently, he reached up and touched his most prominent external scar – the slash between his eyes. Using his thumb to trace the raised flesh, he thought about his other half, the one who carried the mirror of his own damage. Still rubbing his scar, he looked at his reflection in Lionheart. The reflection waved with moonlight, but he could still see the line, faintly pink against the rest of his pale face. He brought both hands around the handle and held the weapon as though ready for battle, although he was sitting on the calm beach with nothing around for miles. The heavy weight of the gunblade soothed him.
And we've waited for so long
For this moment to come
We're so anxious to be together
Together in death
Squall took his hands off one at a time to remove his leather jacket, refusing to lose contact with Lionheart. Using one hand, he bunched up his coat and fashioned a pillow, lying back so he could look at the stars once more. He let his weapon rest on his chest, feeling the chill of the metal through his t-shirt. With the comfortable weight, Squall let his mind wander, the sound of the waves fading away as he lost himself in memory.
His new room was more like an apartment – Commander was a big step up from SeeD. With a bedroom, living area, and full kitchen, there was no question about Seifer moving in after they returned from Time Compression. The blonde knight had a long road of recovery, physically and mentally. While Squall hated the extra responsibility the title of Commander brought him, he liked that he had the space for Seifer and the resources to try and help him. There were no more secrets or lies between them – their love had never faded during the war, and they took full advantage of peacetime to officially start their relationship, their life together.
There were good days and bad. Unfortunately, one of them didn't come back from the war the same. Seifer was a broken man. Despite knowing he was brainwashed and controlled by a sorceress, he was hated by nearly everyone. A scapegoat was needed for the deaths and anguish, and since Ultimecia wasn't around to take the blame, it fell to Seifer. Inside the relative safety of Balamb Garden, he was subject to glares and looks of fear. Leaving the Garden was another story – in the city, people spat at him, cursed, threw things. At first, Seifer held his head high, trying to retain some of that cockiness, that confidence he had before the war. Over time, hearing of all his crimes, seeing the hatred burn in people's eyes, he couldn't stand as tall anymore. His eyes dimmed, full of ghosts.
Squall took a deep breath, tasting salt on his lips. His chest ached already, a deep-seated pain between his ribs, but he wouldn't stop. He had to remember. He wouldn't let himself brush past what would end up being the most defining moments in his life.
A year later, Seifer was physically healed but mentally scarred. He barely left their suite. He still blamed himself for his actions during the war. Squall tried to help him stay busy, distracting him with rented movies, new recipes to cook, and spars in the Training Center. It was nowhere near perfect, but they had each other. They were moving forward.
Cooking was one of the things they did to escape, wearing matching aprons and laughing as they bumbled through challenging recipes together. It was one of Squall's favorite things to do, so he made sure to stock up at the start of the week. The grocery store in Balamb was quiet and usually welcoming. He usually went alone, but asked Seifer if he wanted to tag along. To his surprise, he agreed. They walked to Balamb on the road, enjoying each other's company, hands intertwined.
It was a shock when the first blow came. They heard a car coming and moved to the side of the road, still talking and holding hands. Sparks suddenly appeared in Squall's eyes and he fell to the pavement, blinking his eyes in confusion. He felt a warm trickle on the side of his face but couldn't place where it was coming from. A warm hand cupped his cheek, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the car pull off into the grass, doors swinging open.
Afterwards, Squall couldn't remember much. He had a concussion from the staff hitting him in the back of the head as the group of cadets drove by. He remembered some of the horrible insults they hurled at himself and Seifer in the road – "faggot," "murderer," "whore". He remembered the rage building up within him as he watched them kick his lover brutally, Seifer not even trying to protect himself. He remembered trying to crawl to him but the vertigo sending him spiraling away as his vision filled with red. He remembered the cold that swept over him as Shiva unleashed and protected them both. Dr. Kadowaki told him the cadets hadn't been killed and were no longer at Garden, having been expelled immediately. In the fogginess of his concussion, he found himself wishing Shiva had decided to use more force.
Seifer was already waiting for him back in their suite, having been released to heal his broken ribs and stitched up lacerations. As Squall came in, scratching the bandage on the back of his head, he looked up at him from the couch. His jade eyes were filled with tears, spilling over onto his cheeks and making his face shine in the light. Squall stood in the doorway for a moment, eyes wide. It was the first time he'd ever seen Seifer cry.
"I….hurt….you…" The words choked out between increasingly hard sobs broke his stupor and he rushed over to cradle the person he loved most in the world, tears shining in his own eyes.
The tears carried over from past to present, and Squall let them come. The salty tears mixed with the sea air, and he felt completely enveloped by it all. Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced himself to finish the memory.
This world is a cruel place
And we're here only to lose
So before life tears us apart let
Death bless me with you
Seifer refused to believe it wasn't his fault. He took full responsibility, even though he hadn't harmed Squall in any way. He refused to leave the suite, even to go to the cafeteria. He lost weight, his eyes becoming even dimmer despite Squall's efforts to do something – anything – to bring him out of his shell. He was scared for his lover. He hated leaving him alone to get food or do work. Guilt tore at him every time he closed the door, and relief brought him back to life every time he returned to see Seifer waiting for him.
Squall felt himself starting to tremble. He didn't want this. He didn't want to remember. He wanted to somehow go back in time, like before, and change things before any of this could happen. He knew it wasn't possible. Letting the weight of his gunblade comfort him, he forced himself back to the past.
As Commander, Squall still had to attend meetings, even though he did as much work from his suite as possible. That's where he had been that day – in a meeting with Quistis and Xu on changing the curriculum to include more subjects and trades useful for peacetime. Squall felt anxious being away from home but excited about the changes coming to Garden. The three talked for several hours, drawing up plans and discussing new objectives for cadets. Squall walked back to the suites exhausted but feeling accomplished. Using his keycard, he opened the pneumatic door and stepped into the darkness of the room.
"I'm home." Squall called out, barely raising his voice. He saw a light coming from the bedroom and made his way through the hall, kicking off his boots and throwing his jacket over a kitchen stool. When he got to the bedroom, he frowned. He could hear the shower running, but the bathroom door was closed. They never usually bothered to close the door when they showered.
"You in there? I'm home." Squall said again, feeling something rise in his throat, something twist in his gut. The bathroom door seemed miles away as he reached out a hand to turn the knob. Locked.
"Seifer? What are you doing in there?" He pressed his ear against the door, wondering if Seifer was going to slam it open and scare him. All he could hear was the sound of the water hitting the tile, a soft pattering of rain. Squall could feel his heart start beating faster, the feeling in his throat burning his eyes.
Trying to swallow the lump in his throat, he half-ran to his desk for a paperclip. The lock was a simple push-button one, not updated with a keycode or keycard, and he just pushed one end in to unlock the door. He hesitated before pulling it open. He was a SeeD. He knew something was very, very wrong.
The smell hit him first. He was all too familiar with it after fighting in a war. A sound came out of him, something between a moan and a strangled cry. He knew what he was going to find. The humid air cooling around him made him shiver; the dread of what he was about to see made him shiver more. Closing his eyes, Squall reached out a shaking hand and grabbed the shower curtain, yanking it off the bar before he could change his mind.
"Noooo…" He moaned again, lips barely parted to breathe. He took it all in even though his mind was distantly screaming, telling him to run, run, run and never look back. There was so much blood.
Seifer was curled on the floor of the shower, the cold water hitting his pallid skin with a horrible slapping sound. Blood stained the white tiles, slowly dripping down. Diluted strains of blood swirled down the drain, disappearing into blackness.
"No-no-no-no-no…" Was he making that sound? Somewhere, his inner voice told him to shut up, he needed to HANDLE it, he was a fucking SEED, he needed to get his shit TOGETHER. Instead, he felt detached as he sank to his knees, leaning into the shower to touch Seifer's cold cheek. He watched himself try to heal him with magic, over and over, knowing from experience that he was too late, there was too much blood, it was over. Gray eyes met glassy green ones, half-lidded and unseeing. He crawled deeper into the shower, feeling the frigid water hit his back. Taking in the cross etched in to Seifer's wrist – no longer bleeding, just a glaring red gash – he cradled the limp body over his lap, feeling the chill of wet skin sink into his own legs. He hugged the man to his chest, trying to transfer some of his warmth, some of his life, anything.
"I've got you, I've got you…" He murmured. "Please don't leave me…don't leave me…"
He looked down at the mess of wet blonde hair in his lap, feeling his own pulse heavy in his ears. It seemed so unfair compared to the stillness of his lover. He watched himself start shaking, emotion building up as he had never felt before. Ignoring his inner voice, Squall surprised himself by howling, a scream of pure anguish, louder than he'd ever been, erupting from somewhere deep in his chest and exploding around him, echoing off the tile in an endless loop of pain.
Nothing mattered after that. He knew that Quistis and Xu heard him, breaking into the suite when they couldn't get a response. He knew he spent time in the infirmary until they were ready to bury Seifer. He remembered laying Hyperion with him, eyes dry as he went through the motions. He remembered that other than the few friends in his circle, no one came or cared that the knight was dead.
The tears were flowing freely now, stinging his cheeks in the December air. He had tried. He had tried for his friends, who begged him not to shut them out. He tried to put himself back together as the leaves fell from the trees, no longer beautiful hues of gold and copper but now just colored like mud and grime under a sick gray sky. He tried as he watched the first snowfall, remembering how Seifer would get giddy like a child, pressing his nose to the window. He tried on Seifer's birthday, trying to forget about the present he had hidden in the closet, and he tried through Christmas, cooking Seifer's favorite meal and refusing to eat any of it. The hole still remained, as wide as ever, robbing him of any feeling, leaving him without tears.
He couldn't try anymore.
This world is a cruel place
And we're here only to lose
So before life tears us apart let
Death bless me with you
With a shaking breath, Squall gripped Lionheart in one hand again, lifting it once more to view it in the moonlight. It glinted and glowed, sharp as ever. With no hesitation, he dragged it up over his left wrist, watching the blood slowly rise to the surface and then spill over all at once. There was no pain. He awkwardly switched the blade to his other hand, struggling to grip it, slipping in blood. He managed enough to pull Lionheart over his other arm, feeling faint as he saw the blood pump with his pulse, over his arms and into the sand. He let Lionheart go and lay back again, watching the stars spin overhead.
His blood was warm over his arms, but his body became colder with each shuddering breath. The stars started to fade from his vision, turning the sky into a clean black slate. He felt so tired. He closed his eyes.
Won't you die tonight for love
(Baby, join me in death)
Won't you die
(Baby, join me in death)
Won't you die tonight for love
(Baby, join me in death)
Join me in death