Fly Like an Eagle.
Chapter 3: Fate of a Comrade.
He regained consciousness soon after the crash. He was lightheaded... couldn't think... things seeming to swim strangely. He didn't know where he was, or who he was for that matter. He was covered in blood and didn't know why. Then it all came flooding back to him, the battle, Karate Kid crashing, Cid's plane being shot down, Wild West sacrificing himself for his survival, and he, callsign Lionheart, crashing to the ground and hitting his head hard on the terminal. Some glass seemed to have embedded itself in his arm when the cockpit smashed. He winced painfully as he removed it.
"This is pilot 082388, come in Timber headquarters, come in! This is callsign Lionheart." All he received was static. He tried again. "Can anybody hear me, this is pilot 082388! Hello!" more static coming from the remains of his radio. His arm throbbed painfully. He reached under what was left of his seat and pulled out a small dented black metal box and opened it. Inside were his emergency supplies, including bandages, a knife, and a universal service pistol, with 2 extra clips. He seized the bandages and began wrapping his arm up. Blood was seeping through, but he payed no mind, he had work to do.
He attached the large knife to his belt and put on his gun and holster. He drew his pistol. He had never confirmed the death of Lt. Zell Dincht, callsign Karate kid. He guessed he should at least confirm he was on his own, before trying to do anything about it. He began heading south, toward Timber. Zell had been the first to crash, so he estimated him to be closer to Timber. He moved through the night staying out of sight of the tanks and apache helicopters. Night had fallen when he reached the first crash sight. He heard movement ahead. He raised his pistol and crept slowly forward, he saw the figure and instinct took over. He sped up and grabbed the figure and pressed his gun to their head. As he moved forward into the light he'd realized that this wasn't Kid's crash sight at all, but the wreckage of the private jet Cid had been transporting the ambassador in. So that meant that his hostage was...
He let go of Rinoa quickly. She looked at him, his steel gray eyes upon her, his gun still raised. She felt relieved at seeing him, but his eyes did not soften, and he did not lower his gun, which was pointing between her eyes. She started to feel afraid, his eyes were cold as ice.
"Lionheart?" she asked, now terrified. The sound of her voice intoxicated him. His eyes softened, he lowered his firearm, but was still looking at her with his steel gray eyes, neither willing to break eye contact.
"We need to get out of here, Galbadian tanks and choppers are still searching for our remains. Salvage what you can, we need to find Zell." He said slowly, still not breaking eye contact. Rinoa wondered for a moment whom Lionheart was talking about, and then realized "Karate Kid" and "Wild West" weren't their real names, just their callsigns. Since Wild West had been killed in an act of heroism, she assumed 'Zell' must be Karate Kid. This made her think.
"Zell, that's Kid's real name right?" she said, still wondering if she should ask her question or not.
"Lt. Zell Dincht, Eagle squad pilot, SeeD rank 30." he said automatically.
"So... what's your real name, Lionheart?" she asked him, cautiously. He didn't answer immediately. But then...
"Lt. Commander Squall Leonheart, Squad E leader, SeeD rank 30. But I bet because of my failure they'll take away my rank as commander and at least 5 SeeD levels." He said, feeling more comfortable talking about his rank than giving his name to some ambassador girl. Rinoa couldn't process anything for a moment other than his name.
Squall, she thought to herself. Squall, like a storm, a short storm, a violentstorm. Leonheart, now I understand his callsign. If... you get passed the storm... you'll find the heart of a lion. How wonderful, how poetic. She was snapped out of her musings about his name when she remembered the rest of his words to her.
"They wouldn't demote you! That's outrageous! You guys were outnumbered by, like, 9 to 1! This isn't your fault! They just can't do it to you... Squall." she blushed as she said his name. He didn't notice.
"Well, anyway, we need to get going, grab anything that survived the crash. I have to find my wingman." he said, turning to the wreckage. Rinoa tentatively stepped into the plane, and found that her possessions in her suitcase were undamaged, the bag itself was singed, but not badly. She grabbed it and looked around. Everything else was either smashed or burned to cinders. She came out with her bag and found Squall crouched down peering around the wreckage. She looked through where the window used to be, and saw two figures, heavily armed, walking toward them. Galbadian soldiers. She went out to Squall, who motioned for her to stay there and be quiet. She wasn't about to disobey. She was a politically powerful and important woman, with a lot of influence, but she wasn't a soldier.
Squall waited, poised to strike, gun in his right hand, knife in his left. Just as the two men rounded the corner of the wrecked plane, Squall grabbed one and forced his knife to the man's throat, while pointing his gun straight between the eyes of the other.
"Nobody move," he said, his voice deeper and rougher than when he spoke to her.
"You SeeD, man, You guys don't learn." The man said as Squall continued to aim for his head. "You guys think that because you're soooo well trained that 3 of you can take on Galbadia." A gunshot echoed and the man fell to the ground, dead.
"Bad move man." said the other. "People gonna come lookin' for us and if we dead, u guys gonna get it to."
"Shut up." Squall replied angrily as he slit the soldiers throat. Rinoa came out looking terrified.
"Squall? Did you just kill them? In cold blood?" She asked him, her voice shaking, her eyes, wide.
"Yes and no. They would have turned us in had we set them loose, told the others of our plans if tied up, and they showed my brothers in arms disrespect. I'm never proud or happy to take a life, but it must be done." he said, giving every indication of just having an unpleasant job, rather like a garbage man. This however was much worse.
"I can't believe you!" she quietly yelled so as not to attract more soldiers. He ignored her. "Do you feel no pity, no remorse? Your hands and your soul are bloody! You're nothing but a hired killer!" She cried, eyes watering.
"I spill the blood of my enemies and my brothers for your stupid war. I never chose this, you think I would go around killing people if our lives weren't in danger? Next time you call me a hired killer, think of who hired me!"
His words hit deep. He was right. 100 right. This was her fault, not his. She began to cry softly.
"I'm so sorry." she cried weakly. He looked at her again with those steel gray eyes, and as she looked back into them, she found them... softer. Much more apologetic than they had been. He said not another word about it, nor did she, as they walked south, searching for Lt. Zell Dincht, callsign, Karate Kid. After some time of walking through the night, and the occasional command of "Duck" from Squall as a plane would fly over, they came upon another crash sight. Or rather, 2 crash sights. Bogey 02-00, and Kid. Squall walked over to his comrade's plane and examined it. It was still, for the most part, intact. Squall wrenched open the cockpit and there, lying unconscious, was Zell.
Squall grabbed him by the waist, pulled him out of the plane, and laid him down flat. He was a real mess. Burns on his face and neck, several deep cuts, still bleeding, and what seemed to be, based on it's awkward position, a broken arm. Squall took hold of the bad arm, and with a sickening crack, set it back into place. Zell seemed to wince slightly. Maybe Rinoa imagined it.
"He's alive." Squall said, relieved.
"Thank God. What are we going to do with him? Take him with us? We're miles from the nearest city, there's no way to help him." she asked, genuinely worried.
"I know what to do." he said. He reached into Zell's cockpit and pulled out a black metal box. Inside was a knife, gun, and first aid kit. He stashed the gun in his pocket, attached the knife next to his own on his belt. He pulled out the first aid kit, and seized a small round pill. "This is called 'False Death,' do you know what it does?" he asked.
"No," she said.
"Whoever takes it will be put into a deep coma. You will not move, feel, think, dream, or even breathe. Your heart rate will be suppressed. This will put him into a state where it's safe for him travel. We'll get him to the nearest town, have an air evacuation to Timber soils, and discuss our options. The nearest town would be..." He said, looking around. "Dollet, that way." he said. (A/N please ignore the geography errors, I don't have a map, and none of this would make sense on the regular world map anyway, just bear with me.)
He grabbed Zell under the arm and hoisted him into an upright position. Carrying everything they could manage, they set off toward Dollet, and as soon as they thought they were far enough away not to be spotted, they laid their things down, set up a makeshift tent out of a tarp that the cockpit used as a parachute, and floored it with Rinoa's exra-large sleeping bag. She pulled out a blanket and her pillow, and laid down, covered up, and propped up her head with the pillow. She looked over at Squall who was just sitting on the sleeping bag, just looking out on the road they would travel over the next few days.
She felt the desire to do something... something that would get his attention. She felt bad about their argument about him having to kill people. She knew full well that if they hadn't been the enemy, he would never have hurt them in his life. She wanted to apologize, to explain that she hadn't really understood the duty of a soldier, and if he would please find it in his heart to forgive her. But of corse, she couldn't say that. Not directly at least.
"Um... about earlier. I'm really sorry for what I said to you. I hope you know I didn't mean it like... well, like that." she finished, still unsure of how to procede.
"Whatever."
"I'm serious, I want you to know that, while I'll never approve of it, I understand the need for bloodshed. I'm sorry for calling a noble soldier such as yourself, nothing but a hired killer. Please, won't you forgive me?"
"No harm done, I stopped letting words affect me a long time ago." he said.
This was her chance, he'd let a little piece of information about himself slip. Now she could inquire about it and learn more about the man with those steel gray eyes.
"When was that? And why don't words affect you?" she asked, a little too insistently, for his response was not favorable.
"I don't want to talk about it." he said lying down on the other end of the sleeping bag, lying flat on his back. She had an idea. She rolled over and kissed his cheek gently. She blushed, but not as much as he did. His facial expression was as stoic and unreadable as ever, but he couldn't hide the reddish color that had risen up in his face.
"Will you tell me later?" she asked in her most tender of voices, he face still but inches away from his.
"Whatever." he said.
"Well I want you to, and if it doesn't matter to you," she said, catching him in a technicality, "If whatever I want is fine, then you'll tell me the story. But later." She kissed him softly again. "I promise I'll be as nice and understanding as I can be. Ok?"
He nodded, still red, and rolled over, his back to her. She smiled, here was a man who could take care of her, but needed her to take care of him. How perfect. She looked at his dormant image, and wished she could share her blanket and pillow, but knew he would never allow it. At least, not yet.
A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. This is kind of a boring chapter, but it's necessary, and I've just had other shit to do. I'll update more frequently after this weekend, and maybe once more before it. What do you guys think about the beginning of my romance plot. The lemon isn't coming for another 2 or 3 chapters, sorry! Please R&R. Griever's Ruler, if you're serious about helping me out with the lemon (as I have never written one) you can send me one, and, though I'll adapt it some so it fits what's happening in the story, I'll be sure to include it. If you're serious, then thanks in advance.
-N.F.