Author's Note: Uh-oh guys. This is it. Those of you who read Fairy Tale Ending know, I'm sure, what happened at the end of the last chapter. For those of you who don't. . .I'm not telling. Go read Fairy Tale Ending if you want to know, because I cannot seem to emphasize enough how important it is that you do that. Please? Thank you.

And So It Goes

Part the Final: "The Only One"

- And so it goes, and so it goes,

And you're the only one who knows. –

"You're back," a familiar voice called in an almost sing-song tone as a familiar blonde with now-familiar, calm blue eyes slid into a seat next to Squall.

The brunette glanced up and grunted a response, inwardly cursing.

"I'm sorry. I sounded too happy about that, didn't I?"

Squall shrugged and focused on the grains in the wood of the bar. He was back, yes, but he didn't want to be. Being back meant things had gone wrong again.

"What brings you back?" the blonde asked, resting an elbow against the bar and turning his gaze to the brunette.

Squall remained silent. He hadn't expected the blonde to be here, hadn't wanted him to be here. He had purposely come at a time when he'd figured the blonde would be off shift. The last time he was here he'd opened up to the man solely because he'd known that he would never see him again. And yet. . .

Chuckling, the blonde pushed away from the bar and leaned closer to Squall.

"You weren't expecting me to be here, were you?" he asked, smiling mischievously. "Lucky for me, I just got off covering a shift for a friend, so I've got plenty of time to talk."

Still, Squall was silent. He had absolutely no intention of talking to the blonde. The guy hadn't even introduced himself yet.

"If you want to, that is," the blonde continued after a long moment. "You don't, do you?"

"No, I don't," Squall said finally, still tracing those wood grains with his eyes.

"But you should. You may not want to, but it's probably best for you to talk about it."

". . ."

"I'm nosey, I know. I'd blame the job, but you wouldn't believe that for second, would you?"

"Not at all."

Silence fell between them, much to Squall's liking, but the blonde still stared, and Squall couldn't tell what to think of it. Those eerily calm eyes were locked on to his own, digging deep into his soul to try and find some sort of encouragement, or maybe just a sign of life in general. Either way, the brunette was confident that it would not be found. He was good at hiding.

Which, now that he thought about it, was kind of depressing, scary even. Hiding was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

"You wouldn't happen to have already eaten dinner, would you?" the blonde asked finally.

Squall glared at him incredulously.

"What? It's okay, isn't it? I mean, I hate to sound insensitive, but that boyfriend of yours is an ex-boyfriend now, isn't he? Otherwise, you wouldn't be here again. Not so soon. And you do need someone to talk to."

The brunette sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to ward off the headache that was quickly approaching. This blonde was awfully nosey, very upfront and frank.

Despite all this being overwhelmingly annoying, Squall couldn't help but admire the blonde's confidence. He'd never met anyone else who was self-assured enough to make so many bold assumptions.

"What makes you think I need someone to talk to?" he asked gruffly.

"Doesn't everyone?" the blonde's tone was absolutely genuine, and, again, Squall found himself admiring him. He hadn't thought anyone really believed that kind of stuff anymore.

"There are some people who prefer not to talk."

"Like you?"

"Yes, like me."

"You talked before. Last time you were here you talked to me. And don't try to tell me it's different, just because you thought you'd never see me again. It's not. You still need to open up; it's not healthy to keep everything bottled up. I mean, that's how you lost him, isn't it?"

Squall turned towards the blonde and met those calm blue eyes with a challenging gaze.

"He wouldn't open up either."

"Because you wouldn't."

"I had nothing to say to him."

"Aside from things you didn't mean?"

"You have no right to assume things like that," the brunette snapped, his voice low, so as not to attract the attention of other bar-goers.

"So tell me what happened, and I won't have to rely on assumptions," the blonde ground out, equally as determined to get information as Squall was to with-hold it.

Both pairs of eyes narrowed and met, each struggling to infuse the other with what they held, whether it was cold, steely, world-weary silence, or calm, almost refreshing confidence.

"Why do you want to know so badly?" Squall inquired, now suspicious of that nosiness he'd earlier believed to be merely a manifestation of bad upbringing.

The blonde shrugged, and their eyes continued their small battle.

"I guess you could say I just want to help," he murmured, lips stretching into a smile.

"You're making assumptions again. I don't need help."

"You do. I can tell. Your type are in here all the time."

"My type?"

"Yes, your type. The kind that come out of bad relationship after bad relationship, and all because they refuse to open up, to talk to their partner."

"And do you often offer them 'help'?" Squall asked, his tone dripping with cynicism as his eyes narrowed even further, now just slits of angry, storm-cloud grey.

"No," the blonde replied, shaking his head slowly and still smiling, "just you. Most people need to get out of this on their own. Realize their mistakes and clean up. You, however, need someone to help you. That's how I see it, anyway. You need someone to force you to open up."

"Someone like you?" Squall asked, still soaked with cynicism.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Someone like me. So, dinner?"

"I already ate."

"You're lying."

"I don't lie," Squall pressed through clenched teeth. He didn't break promises either.

The blonde's smile dissipated and he took a moment to survey Squall's expression.

"Walk with me then?" he asked.

He brunette refused to answer, and instead elected to finally end their little staring contest.

"I'm not leaving until you answer me," the blonde drawled teasingly.

"…Whatever."

"Is that a yes?"

"…"

Shrugging, the blonde stood and grabbed on to Squall's arm, hoisting the brunette to his feet.

"It wasn't a no," he stated as the brunette's eyebrows quirked in confusion. He led Squall through the crowd after telling the bartender, a pretty young woman with sweet eyes and dark hair, to take the brunette's bill out of his paycheck. As they walked away, Squall saw her frown softly before sighing and smiling in a half-amused fashion.

"Where are you taking me?" Squall asked as they stepped outside. "I do need to get back home sooner or later."

"Home? You didn't take very long to move out," the blonde replied, starting down the street. "We'll go to a park nearby and walk around there until you're done."

"I never really officially moved in," Squall explained, ignoring the blonde's last sentence.

"Ah…so why are you back here?"

"Because he's back," Squall answered, those too-blue eyes compelling him to give in to overly childish stubbornness once more.

"Who's back?"

"Sora."

"Your boyfriend? Ex, rather?"

"No."

"Start from the beginning…" the blonde trailed off, waiting for his companion's name.

"Squall."

"Right. Start from the beginning, Squall."

The brunette narrowed his eyes, wondering why the blonde had ignored common courtesy and neglected to give his name as well.

"I met him in college," Squall began hesitantly.

"Who?"

"Riku."

"The ex?"

"Yes. He was a freshman; I was a senior. That was three years ago, and he was dating Sora."

"Oh. Sora's back. I see."

Squall nodded, "They'd been dating since their sophomore year of high school, though, from what they said, they might as well have been dating since they were three."

"That early, huh?"

"I guess so."

"What happened?"

"A few months ago they broke up."

The blonde whistled lowly as they turned into a small park.

"Six years? That's an accomplishment in marriage these days. What happened to make them break that off?"

Squall shrugged, "I don't know. From the little Riku did tell me, it seems like they just hit a lull in their relationship and Sora got to thinking too much about it, reading too much into it."

"So you got worried about a friend and tried to help, but you went too far?"

"I hadn't meant to. It just kind of happened. I'm actually not sure if he initiated it or I did. Neither of us ever were."

The blonde stopped and took a seat on the grass, patting the grass the place next to him with a melodramatically pensive look on his face.

Squall's eyebrow rose sharply and he remained standing.

"So you didn't love him after all? You just wanted to help?"

"I don't know."

"Well from now on, that's it. Why did you want to help, Squall? Exactly why, Squall?"

The brunette paused and looked down at the blonde, his bangs sweeping in front of his eyes as he blinked slowly. Blue eyes blinked back, questioning him patiently. Squall hadn't noticed before, but the blonde's eyes were not pure blue. There was the tiniest rim of green just around his pupils.

"He was walling himself up, closing himself off from the rest of the world."

"In other words, Squall, he reminded you of yourself?"

Squall stared at the blonde, bewildered by this newest assumption. No one had ever picked up on something like that before, not when dealing with Squall. Then again, Squall never gave anyone much information to work with.

"Looks like we've figured out your problem, Squall. You're not upset because you loved him. You're upset because you thought helping him would prove you were not beyond helping. Right, Squall?"

The brunette made no response to the question, and instead posed his own.

"Why do you keep saying my name?" he asked, wanting to kick himself once the words left his lips. What kind of a question was that?

"I like it," the blonde replied, smiling and shrugging. "It suits you," he continued, stretching his arms out in front of him and wiggling his fingers.

"Help me," he demanded, frowning.

Squall reached forward and grabbed the blonde's hands, pulling him to his feet. Stumbling forward, the blonde held tight, refusing to let go as Squall tried to wrench his hands away.

The blonde smiled slowly and stepped forward. Raising one hand, and Squall's along with it, he brushed a lock of chestnut hair out of his companion's face.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"For letting me help you. To be perfectly honest, I think it may have helped me more than it did you."

"I don't understand."

"If you ever want to talk again, you know where to find me," the blonde murmured huskily before softly pressing his lips against Squall's. Pulling away, he grinned widely and breathed out slowly. As his breath swept over the brunette's mouth, he couldn't help but notice how much softer and more tolerable it was than Riku's hot, hungry little gusts.

Squall watched the blonde walk away silently, fiercely debating whether or not he should call out and stop him, or let him go.

"What if you're not there?" he called finally.

"Ask for Tifa. Tell her Cloud sent you. She'll know what to do," the blonde said before rounding the corner and disappearing with his wild hair and calm eyes and soft voice and gentle breath.