"How'd it go?" Kiros asked as soon as Laguna exited Squall's room.
"Ugh," Laguna groaned, slapping his hand to his face.
"That bad, huh?" Kiros observed.
"You wouldn't even believe…" Laguna lamented. He was in serious need of a coffee right now.
"So, are you going back?" asked Kiros.
"Well, yeah, but…God, it's not gonna be easy."
"Here," Kiros said. "Let's go grab a bite to eat, and we can talk about it."
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After Laguna left, Squall suffered a debilitating coughing fit that left him breathless and exhausted. He slumped back against the bed, his brown hair tousled and matted from sweat. He focused on his physical pain, rather than his emotional pain.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He had been hurting when Laguna had talked about Raine Leonhart, but he couldn't help it, and he'd never admit it.
He only had one memory of his mother. He could remember himself drowning, struggling for air, gasping and taking in water. And even though he was only a small child, Squall had never felt so scared since. He still got shivers up his spine whenever he saw dark water. He could never forget the fear. It was like I could feel myself dying.
But just when it looked like all hope for Squall's life was lost, he could feel a pair of strong hands plucking him out of the cold water and bringing him to shore. Then, just like that, he could feel the strong hands slipping away.
Squall shuddered. She died, I lived. A mother giving herself for her child. It's happened so many times, but this time just feels overwhelmingly different.
He didn't like being in here anymore. The silence made it feel like Squall Leonhart was resting in his own grave. He suddenly wanted someone to talk to. He didn't care who. Well, I know who I want to talk to, he thought bitterly. But I doubt Rinoa ever wants to speak to me again.
Hell, he'd even like it if Laguna came back. Incompetent or not, he was still someone to talk to. Anything was better than this oppressive silence.
He rolled over, facing the window. If he didn't get his life straightened out soon, then the silence would be all that he had.
Properly caffeinated and fully recharged, Laguna entered Squall's room for the second time.
"Back again?" Squall asked, almost conversationally.
"Afraid so. I'm not all that easy to shake off," Laguna replied cheerfully. He tossed a bottle full of red sports drink to Squall; Squall caught it. "For you. It's for your throat."
"Thank you," Squall said, almost inaudibly, into the pillow. Actually, thought Laguna, it was so muffled that it could have been "fuck you." You never knew what to expect with this boy.
Laguna stifled a cough in his arm. Squall noticed. "Looks like you're already getting sick. You'd better get out of here."
"Oh-ho, nice try, Squall," Laguna said, grinning. "You're stuck with me whether you like it or not. And it's up to you whether this is enjoyable or pure torture."
They were quiet until Laguna said, "How did you get sick, anyway?"
"Long story short, I fainted in the rain," Squall said. "That's all there is to it."
Laguna knew that there obviously was more to it, but he didn't think that it would be a good idea to pursue it now. He looked around the room for something, anything else to talk about.
"Where'd you get that?" he asked finally, gesturing at Squall.
Squall knew that he was talking about "The Scar." About two inches long, and stretching across the bridge of his nose, it was quite a conversation topic. Squall rubbed at it unconsciously. "Oh, that. Uh…well, I was sorta sparring with this one guy Seifer, and…in the end, we ended up slashing each other's heads open."
Laguna laughed heartily. "Uh-oh. That scar looks like it's going to last a long time."
"I know. Just what I need, right? A permanent reminder of Seifer…" Squall said with disgust.
Laguna laughed again. "Well, that's okay. Girls like scars, am I right? Or not…"
A ghost of a smile flitted across Squall's face before it disappeared again.
Laguna tried to think of another conversation topic. Come on, Squall…conversations with you can't ALWAYS be this one-sided…
"Do you miss Ellone a lot?" he blurted.
What kind of question is that? "I try not to think about it," Squall said coolly.
"Well, that's no good," Laguna said dismissively.
"What?"
"That's not good. It's not healthy. Forgetting about Ellone entirely…" he sighed. "is an insult to her memory."
Squall was silent. Big surprise, Laguna thought. He continued.
"Yeah, I miss her. She was like my daughter. I miss her and your mother so much that it hurts. But they're dead. I'm not dead. So why should I act like it?"
Squall managed to avoid sneering; it was this happy, go-lucky attitude that made him dislike Laguna in the first place. I'm not like you, Laguna. When something happens to me, I really feel it.
"She was very important to me. How about you?"
I wish he'd stop asking me these stupid questions. "She was basically my sister. What else do you need to know?"
Laguna paused. "I don't need to know anything, Squall. I'm just here as an ordinary guy, who wants to talk to his only son. We're together again. That's all I ever needed to know. Now that I know that, everything is complete again."
"Don't you have…I don't know…presidential stuff to do? I'm sure that it would be more entertaining," Squall shot back.
"It's not your job to entertain me, Squall," Laguna said severely.
"Why are you even doing this, anyway? We're obviously not getting anywhere," Squall challenged. He knew he sounded immature, but he was on a roll.
Laguna didn't say anything for a while. When he did, he said, "We're very much alike, you and I."
Squall almost bolted upright. "I'm nothing like you!" he snarled, with an almost bestial look on his face.
Laguna chuckled. "No need to take so much offense; it's true. We're both passionate. We don't know when to quit. And, when we want to be, we can be pretty damn stubborn."
Squall stared moodily out of the window. After a while, he said, "I wasn't always like this."
"Like what?" Laguna asked.
He didn't get an answer. Somehow, he knew that the conversation was over.
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"Um…rough time?" guessed Kiros, upon seeing Laguna slumped unhappily into his office chair that evening.
"Got that right," Laguna said roughly. "I don't think I can do this for much longer, Kiros."
"That's the spirit," Kiros said sarcastically. "Come on, Laguna. You can do this. You have to. He's your son."
Laguna put his head in his hands. "You have no idea. This kid cuts me down to size on a regular basis. He's never even met me before this, and he hates me. You should hear the things he says to me."
"He does not hate you," Kiros said wearily.
Laguna trembled. "That's the thing. He says horrible things to me, and makes me feel like shit, but…" He raised his head, his eyes glassy. Kiros took a step back. He hadn't ever seen Laguna lose control like this before. "Whenever I look at him, I still love him. I love him so much! I mean, I don't understand it at all. No matter what he says to me, I love him! It hurts, because he hates me," Laguna wailed.
"He doesn't hate you," Kiros repeated. "And it's normal. People fight with their kids all the time. It's nothing new. This kid's just a regular kid."
"Oh, if only you knew…"
Squall sat in bed long after Laguna left, fiddling with the cap of his sports drink bottle. He was hopelessly bored now.
Alright, he would admit it: he had gone overboard when he had been lashing out of Laguna. But it had been so long since the last time Squall had to apologize for anything, and he wasn't sure if he knew how to do it anymore.
Besides. I'm allowed to hold a grudge. The guy waltzes in after 17 years of not being there, and expects me to be perfectly happy with it. It's not going to happen.
"Squall," the nurse said, peeking her head into the room. "You've got a letter." She handed it to him, and quickly walked away for fear of catching Squall's contagious disease.
Squall weighed the envelope in his hands. It was far more heavy than a normal letter. He slit it open.
When he overturned the envelope, the ring on a silver chain that he had given to Rinoa slid out of it and plopped onto the bed. He picked it up and looked at it wordlessly. His eyes stung with tears. He bit his lip. It was the official "break-up" as if the other one hadn't been official enough already.It was the official end of one of the happiest chapters in Squall Leonhart's life.
A small slip of paper accompanied the ring.
Wear it so you don't forget about me.
-Rinoa
The back of the card was adorned with Rinoa's wing insignia.
"Well, that's that, then," he whispered out loud. He clasped the necklace around his neck. It felt cold and unnatural resting at his throat after so much time of seeing it around Rinoa's. This is the end. He wiped his eyes and placed the card on the nightstand.
And, after hours of trying to keep it away, Squall allowed the darkness to infiltrate his mind.
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Not the happiest chapter ever, but they can't all be cheerful, can they?
I'll have an update up as soon as I can.
