Squall woke up with a hideous headache. He felt the back of his head, where there was a sizeable lump. He would have groaned, but his throat felt blocked up.
His muscles ached, and his head felt clogged. And for the second time, he was terribly cold. What happened last night and where the hell am I?
He wasn't in his room. He was in a tiny, white room with a cabinet, a little desk, and a tiny chair. The smell of disinfectant permeated the air. It took about 2 minutes for him to process that this was the Balamb Garden Infirmary. Someone must have found him last night and carried him here. His clothes were stiff from the torrential rain the night before.
The infirmary was as silent as a tomb. Occasionally, he could hear people coughing. In a way, it was nice. Peaceful. No one to not look at him or make him feel like scum. And if he concentrated hard enough, he could block out the dark thoughts from the night before until he was in a Zen-like state of disguised apathy.
The door swung open. A short-haired nurse in a white uniform came in bearing a breakfast tray. Her eyes widened when she saw Squall. "Oh God! I told them to get you out of those clothes when they brought you in! You'll probably catch pneumonia or worse now…"
"Oh, no…that's alright," Squall said vaguely. He wasn't exactly sure how much he'd like the idea of people undressing him in his sleep anyway. But at this moment, nothing seemed to really bother him anymore…
The nurse put her hand on his forehead impatiently. "Burning up and half-delirious…I swear…" She dug around in a cabinet until she found a packet of disposable thermometers. She ripped one out of the package and shoved one in Squall's mouth. "The clothes are dry now and the damage is done, but stay in bed, or you'll have hell to pay!"
After a minute or two, the nurse tugged the thermometer out of Squall's mouth and inspected it. "102. I'll go get you some meds. Stay in bed, alright?"
"But I'm not…I'm feeling fine--ACHOO!" The explosive force of the sneeze almost knocked Squall back against the headboard.
The nurse smiled wryly. "Nice try, Leonhart. I'll be right back."
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"Awww, he just doesn't wanna work!" Selphie protested upon hearing the news that their Commander had taken ill. The gang was at work organizing the aforementioned fundraiser. "Organizing" was tantamount to paperwork. And lots of it.
"Easy, Selph," Irvine said. "Maybe it's serious. Didn't you hear? They found him in the courtyard last night. They said that he fainted."
"Fainted? And who's 'they'?" Zell asked.
Irvine shrugged. "It's just what I heard. He's in the infirmary right now. He's probably really sick."
"Yeah, well…what do we care? He's a jerk, anyway," Zell said unconvincingly.
Selphie looked at him knowingly. "That's not nice and not true. You're worried, Zell."
Zell scowled. "Am not. And what's the deal with you guys? You were all mad at him just a day ago, and now you're acting like a bunch of saints! What gives?"
Selphie sighed. "Zell! He's still our friend, right?"
"So, what should we do? Give him space or go see him?" Irvine pressed.
Selphie paused. She was suddenly acting mature and sensible. It was disconcerting. "I don't know," she admitted.
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"For the last time, I'm fine," Squall said forcefully. "I don't feel sick. I mean, I just have a fever, so what?" He didn't particularly know why he was weaving this web of lies. He just knew that he wanted to get the hell out of the infirmary right now.
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, while you cough up a lung," the nurse said. "You're sick, Leonhart, and nothing but bed rest and a lot of medicine is going to change it."
"You can't make me stay here," he said mutinously.
The nurse frowned. "For God's sake, Leonhart, can't you do what you're told? Just once?" She slammed down a cup of pills angrily. "Take those every hour on the hour. I'll check up on you at six. And if you even think of trying to make a run for it, I'll have them strap you down." The nurse exited and closed the door behind her.
Well, he thought. All that's left to do is to get better. He liked thinking about the things that were right in front of him. That way, he wouldn't have to focus on the past, the future, or anything else that might hurt him.
He locked the door, tossed a pill into his mouth, and flopped down onto the bed to catch up on some sleep.
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Meanwhile, at the front entrance of the infirmary, Kiros was trying to convince an extremely reluctant Quistis Trepe to let Laguna into Squall's room.
"He's sick," Quistis said shortly. "It might be contagious, and we can't risk anything right now. And, to be frank, I wouldn't recommend anyone seeing him even if he wasn't sick."
"Consider this a matter of utmost importance," Kiros said quietly. But Laguna said, "Why don't you recommend anybody seeing him?"
Quistis looked from Kiros to Laguna. "He's in bad shape. That's all I'm going to say about it." She turned to Kiros. "And what is so important about it?"
"It's extremely important," Kiros smirked. "That's all I'm going to say about it."
Laguna gave Quistis his broadest, most charming smile. "Ms. Trepe, if you please. I don't care about the health risks. All I ask is that I have some time alone with my…er…this boy."
Quistis allowed herself a smile. "Fine. If you'll just wait here one moment…"
She strode down the hall until she reached Squall's room. She knocked briskly on the door.
"Go away!" barked Squall.
Quistis entered anyway. "That lock doesn't work," she announced.
"I noticed," Squall said curtly. "What do you want?"
"Someone wants to see you," she said, adjusting her glasses. "And it's no use turning them away, because I already said they could come in."
"Who is it?" he asked wearily. He had been so close to forgetting everything that was wrong…
Quistis leaned out of the doorframe and called, "You can come in now!"
Laguna strode in, and nodded at Squall. "Um…hello." Anxiety was written all over his face. It's my son. In the flesh, he thought numbly.
"What are you doing here?" Squall sit, suddenly sitting upright.
"Squall!" Quistis cried, horrified. This was the president of Esthar, for the love of God…
"It's alright," Laguna said calmly, even though it was hardly the greeting that he had expected. He glanced at Kiros and Quistis, and they immediately filed out and gently closed the door.
After hovering hesitantly by the door, he walked to Squall's bedside. "Stay still. Let me look at you."
"Why…?" Aside from having no idea what Laguna was doing, Squall had no idea why he was even here.
Laguna sighed and rubbed his sleep-deprived eyes. "I don't have any other way to tell you this than just to tell you outright."
He pulled up the tiny chair and sat in it. "Squall Leonhart…your name should rightfully be Squall Loire. I don't know how to put it any more delicately than that."
It took a few seconds for the news to register. When he finally did understand, Squall simply said, "That's not funny, Mr. Loire."
"I'm not kidding!" Laguna said desperately. He had been afraid of this. "I…know this for a fact. You're my son, Squall. And I only just found out a day ago. I didn't even know you existed…"
Squall sat up more, a sort of defiance glinting in his eyes. "Prove it," he said menacingly.
Laguna sat in silence for a moment. How could I possibly prove…why didn't I think of this?
Finally, he had an idea. He pulled out his picture of Raine from his wallet, where he always kept it. He handed it to Squall wordlessly.
Squall studied it. It was a pretty young woman, whose demeanor just exuded gentleness. My eyes and my nose. Yeah, that would do it. He turned the picture over. The word "Raine" was written there in pencil.
"This is my mother, isn't it? And I suppose she's dead?" he said quietly. Laguna nodded.
Squall felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. When he imagined reunions with his father, he had imagined a solid, powerful man who was like him. He imagined his mother as a tearful, beautiful woman happy to finally see her child at last.
Not the bumbling Laguna Loire and no mother to speak of.
"I don't believe this," he said, turning away from Laguna. "I don't fucking believe this."
"Believe me, I had a hard time believing it, too," said Laguna, trying to make light of the situation.
Squall shot him a dirty look. "It's not supposed to be like this."
"It's not supposed to be like what?" Laguna asked. He could tell that this was going to take a lot of effort.
"Not…you," was all Squall could say. He closed his eyes.
Laguna tried to pretend that the remark hadn't hurt him, and said, "Why not me?"
Squall didn't answer.
"Why don't you like me?" Laguna asked.
Squall opened one eye. "You want honesty?"
"Yes," Laguna answered, already having serious misgivings.
"If you say so. I think you're irresponsible. You're not serious enough, and you're careless. Happy?"
The silence and tension was so thick that it felt tangible.
"Well…I can't say that I didn't ask for that," Laguna said finally. After a pause, he said, "That Quistis woman out there said that you were in bad shape."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Okay." More silence.
Surprisingly, Squall was the one to break the silence this time. "So you said you found out about this a day ago. How did you find out?"
Laguna told the story about first seeing Squall at Ellone's funeral, having his dream, and then having Kiros track him down. Laguna was faintly aware of how silly he sounded.
Squall laughed bitterly. "Prophetic dreams that tell you your children's identities. That's something you don't hear everyday."
"I didn't know whether or not to believe it at first," Laguna admitted. "But then…why leave something like that to chance, you know? And look: I've found you. I made a promise to your mother that I'd make things right, and now here I am."
Squall didn't say anything else. Laguna sighed. I give up. This isn't going anywhere…
He got up and turned to go. He had just about reached the door when Squall suddenly said, "What was she like, anyway? My mother."
"Raine? She was one of a kind…and I don't mean that lightly," Laguna answered, still facing the door. "She was the sweetest woman you could ever meet, but she could give me a good kick in the pants if I ever needed one. You would have liked her." He snuck a quick glance of Squall, and saw something that he hadn't expected.
In that moment, Squall had lowered his defenses and allowed himself to look vulnerable, almost sad. But, as quickly as Laguna had seen it, the illusion disappeared. It was like a flash.
You're still a real person. You're not just a real person, you're my son. You may bitch and bite at me all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you're damaged and that I might be able to help you.
Laguna smiled. If he worked hard enough, he might have an advantage in this battle after all.
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-peridotaurora
