Chapter 2

The day had continued on the high note from earlier, with almost no mishaps as they reconnected. Full of smiles and laughter and catching up on good times, yet very little conversation about the recent history, nothing personal about what had happened since Time Compression. But everyone could see that a lot had happened that wasn't spoken aloud, and it wasn't all good times they'd been through. However, now was too precious to lose to depression; when everybody had finally been given the strength to smile through out the day. They could dismiss their worries, push them away, but to do that, nobody talked about Squall. No mentioning of his name, nothing of his current state; everything stayed strictly pleasant and positive, because there was no other way to keep up the façade if they spoke of Squall.

Squall. Even his name sounded alluring and pleasant on his tongue. If only he looked more alluring right now.

It was late that night; everyone else had gone to bed except for him. The blonde male had wanted to get insome training; re-familiarise himself with the grounds and monsters. On his way back, at around 4am, he'd heard movement in the main foyer.

Apparently Garden's commander had gone out again, and by the way he walked, and acted, he was completely plastered. Moving closer, Seifer could smell the alcohol coming off him, and he had to admit that despite warning earlier it shocked him. This was not how he had intended to meet the lion, but at least it gave him a profile to see, so he could get a good look at what had happened to the younger man.

His hair was a mess, but not in its usual slightly long, almost untameable way, it was in more of an unwashed and dirty way. It was slightly longer than he'd seen him last as well, with the usual highlights brought out by the sharp glare of the foyer lights. It was like a mixture of honey and chestnuts, swirled in chocolate and coffee. But the honey and chestnuts were moulding, and the chocolate and coffee were stained.

Observation 1, Squall needed a shower.

The brunet stumbled down the halls, coughing somewhat hoarsely, but still with that quiet delicacy, something he hadn't lost despite it all. He was leaning on objects for support sometimes, but his long and quick stride kept him moving quite quickly.

Observation 2, Squall needed cough medicine.

The male's lithe and slender body was looking a little thin and frail, through the leather pants and jacket, his legs looked like they weren't filing up the pant legs properly; although there were still some powerful muscles gliding beneath the surface. The slight flair to his hips was always enticing, allowing a nice view of his rear.

Observation 3, Squall needed fattening up.

All of a sudden, as if feeling Seifer's analytical gaze on him, the saviour glanced backwards, giving the blonde direct view of his eyes. They were glazed over a little, looking too far left to be seeing him, and judging by the slight shrug, his vision was too blurry to make out the ex-knight. But his eyes were hauntingly beautiful, like those of a deep blue sea of ice, swirling with emotions. However, now, they seemed clouded and shadowed, and Seifer wanted nothing more than to return the shimmer of life behind those eyes, the glint of something to show he even existed beneath the alcohol and pain and ice. He looked hollow and torn inside, in a way that Seifer had once tried to prevent, but now it seemed that he had failed.

Observation 4, Squall needed fixing before he could never be repaired.

Ghosting the commander down the halls, the blonde is somewhat disturbed at how Squall couldn't even tell he was being trailed; before he left, Squall had been able to tell if you had been /looking/ at him from across the foyer, now he didn't even notice that he was being followed by someone barely five metres behind him.

The brunette turned down the hall to the dorms, nearly walking into the wall; it was lucky he knew the path so well or else he would've hit one of the plants and benches that lined the sides; Seifer was sure. He slowed down a little bit, putting some more distance between them as the inebriated man staggered down the hall, keeping out of sight as best he could. It turned out to be a good idea as he heard the sound of a door sliding open, and Quistis' voice penetrate the silence. When she spoke, she sounded tired, disappointed, and like she had run out of hope.

"Squall…You're a fool…" She muttered despondently, tugging the intoxicated commander into her room with a mutter. "You take the bed. I'll get the couch."

"But Quis-" He tried to stop her, his voice soft and hollow, but his defence was useless. There wasn't anything that he could say anyway, not any more.

"Just don't bother Squall. Go to sleep." The blonde sighed in exasperation, and Seifer can hear shuffling through the door. Another sigh came again, but from the brunet this time. His throat seemed closed up, like he was about to cry…

Seifer couldn't take just standing there anymore, but he knew he couldn't just bust in. To start with, he couldn't even open the door; Garden's doors had always been automated, and he doubted that sticking his nose in Quistis' private quarters would go down that well anyway. Unwilling to listen any longer as his rival's muffled cries, though he doubted the younger man would be so obvious even if he was, Seifer slipped back to his own room in shock. He tried to sleep, but all the could do was think.

That wasn't the Squall Leonhart he knew. That wasn't the man he had left behind. There was never a moment in his waking life that he could have ever seen the once proud lion as he was now, and it broke his heart to see it, seeming so inherently wrong to him. His strength of resolve was well known, and tonight, he was intending to put it to good use. He promised himself, that he was going to put the brunette back together, hold him that way, let him fix. No ice would seal his broken heart into one piece again. No, this time, it would be Seifer there holding him together. It would be him, fixing the other man, one way or another.

Next morning was hell for the brunette commander. He'd awoken early as usual, unable to sleep even if he was drunk out of his mind. It was before sunrise, so he'd managed to make it to his room undetected, stumbling and toppling his way to his room and then his bed. As the door swished quietly shut behind him, he failed to notice the green eyes watching him.

Seifer didn't know what to do. Never had he thought that Squall would do anything like this, but for some reason, deep down, he wasn't surprised. Horrified at what had happened, but he always knew the potential was there, that the russet haired commander could snap, his emotional instability making him more vulnerable than he dared admit, and it seemed that Shiva's ice no longer spared him the pain of feeling.

Suddenly, Seifer was very scared for the younger man, he felt as if his blood had run cold, and his heart had dropped like a stone. He didn't know what Squall was doing, but something deep inside him told him that it wasn't anything good. Unfortunately, the Adonis couldn't just bust inside, he'd get himself killed or something of the sort, and he doubted it would be at all appreciated. He didn't know how Squall would react to the sudden arrival of his supposed to be dead enemy and arch rival.

Even so, he couldn't just stand there and listen to the half-stifled sobs coming from the other side of the Commander's door. He'd come here to help, if he could, to see what was really going on, what he had missed out on during his self imposed exile. This was not what he had expected to come back to, none of it was. But he couldn't do anything yet, he didn't even know the full story, and even if he did, he was a guest here, and most people would still attack him if he made his presence known. Quistis had put out a notice on the intercom, but Seifer was still cautious.

Had he known what was going on in the room he was stood outside of, the blond would likely have attempted to bust the door down, screw the rest of it. But he didn't, didn't know that Squall was slowly adding more cuts to his body, desperately trying to release emotions that had no other outlet. When carving up monsters stopped helping, he started carving up himself.

He didn't leave his room that day.