xsaturnine—Thanks for reviewing…multiple times! I have heeded your advice/command—hee—and have taken it into consideration in this chap. Kind of… anyway, Thanks! ps--I fixed the ages, here and in Prequel. How did you know he was 3 yrs older?

Platonic1---Yup, drama drama drama! And you finally updated! –glomps-- What a place to stop though? I need details about this kidnapping of yours! Thanks again for reviewing—and I'll leave you a nice long one soon-(I wanted to reread first.)

Thanks to my reviewers…I love you! To the rest of you, please R&R—I love ALL my readers! Lol.

-K-

Chap 9

"How's he doing, Mick?" Cid questioned from his place in the front of the ship.

"It isn't working," he replied. "The antiseptic doesn't help the wounds close. I'll have to...yes." He looked at Aerith. "Watch closely if you want to learn. I can only do this once." Straightening, the mouse spread his hands palm down about three inches from Squall's right side. He took a deep, steadying breath as he delved into what little magic he had left.

A pearly shimmer framed his hands and the wounds he was concentrating on, growing in power to a blinding white light. A loud curse sounded in the cabin: Cid did not like being blinded from within his own ship. Aerith forced herself to stare into the brilliant glow, now dotted with green--it has to be Curaga-- and watched in awe as the skin around the lacerations seemingly began to lengthen, shortening the distance between its edges and consequently closing the wounds. She could feel the raw power of the spell, could sense the trace of life energy the mouse was using to fill in the gaps of the magic that he needed and didn't have.

The white light broke off abruptly, fading into nothing in the space of a blink. Mick, as Cid had called him, stumbled back a few steps and sat down hard on the airship's metal floor.

"I couldn't close them all the way," he told Aerith tiredly. "It should be enough, though. Bandage him up, will ya?" She nodded again, too engrossed in everything around her to speak.

It was just too much.

Everything in her world had fallen in upon itself and collapsed again in less than the space of an hour. Her movements were automated as she pulled gauze and a roll of bandages out of the medical kit and slid in closer to her injured comrade's side. How did we let this happen? None of it made sense, the way they'd all been together that morning and had been torn apart so quickly. She remembered it all, the things they'd said to one another; she and Yuffie checking supplies, Squall and Cloud sitting over an old map of the castle and trying to decide the best way to get inside. Cloud had been staring at the old parchment, chin propped on his hand as It had all been so routine by then, so normal. Allowing herself a small sigh, she dismissed her thoughts by pressing the gauze carefully against Squall's side, beginning to wind the binding around his torso, pulling tightly yet moving in a detached, mechanized way.

She was halfway through her third rotation when a hand locked around her right wrist. Startled out of her trance, Aerith glanced down at the blood-slick glove that had stopped her.

"Where's...Cloud?" The unwelcome question came through a set of clenched teeth. The tempest blue eyes were open, barely, still possessing that chill they'd had since she'd first met him, though there was a difference to them now. They were plagued, afflicted, glassy, devoid of their usual vitality. His grip was not particularly strong either and Aerith knew then, at that moment, Squall was just as helpless as she had always feared herself being. He was afraid too, she knew--in the short time she'd known Squall, she'd learned enough to know that helpless was not him. Neither was being afraid, though, and there was something that could be called nothing but relentless fear lurking beneath the other layers of shrouded emotion in those eyes.

Slapped by the sight--and more by the reality of his question, one she had not wanted to face--the girl bit her lip to contain a quiet cry.

"He's gone for now." The mouse was back on his feet, standing at Aerith's side. A different kind of pain crossed Squall's face; releasing Aerith's wrist he moved to rub his old scar, saw the crimson on his black glove and grimaced. He let the hand drop back to his side instead. "You should not be awake yet, not by a long shot. I must've had more energy than I thought," Mick chuckled a little, but it was an anxious sound. He face looked drawn. "This isn't good. Will you help me?" he asked Aerith.

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Just give me your hand." She held out her left, since that was the side he was standing on, and he took it in his own. Opening his own left hand over Squall's chest--the youth's eyes were clenched shut again, as tightly as was his jaw-- he muttered something to him. It sounded strangely like "sorry" to Aerith.

She felt a sudden pulling inside her mind and body, though it wasn't a physical feeling. She'd never had her magic tapped before but there was no doubt that that was what he'd done; as proof a short, sharp burst of brownish-orange light lit the cabin for all of a second. Cid gave a roar of indignation, as well as a stream of curses, at being momentarily blinded again, but this time the light faded much faster than the Curaga spell had. By the time Aerith's vision had cleared and her head had stopped swimming--there had been life energy in what he took-- Squall had slumped back, face contorted only slightly now and body deathly motionless on the cool metal shelf. The girl felt a sudden upsurge of fear.

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Well, I'm getting near to the end of what I have pre-written for this fic. It has 2 pending sequels and "Prequel," so "Escape" will end in less than 20 pages, I'll bet. the storyline WILL continue, but for obvious reasons it needs to branch. hee hee. Anywho, please R&R, and let me know. Hopefully I'll have time to write more son--college kills the creativity in me!

-K-