~ Chapter Forty-Five - Digging Deeper ~
One foot in front of the other.
It was key to keep moving.
The scrape of his boots against cracked ground. The itch of the age old dust in his nostrils, in his throat. The stale, dark air that hung motionless over the land like an oppressive blanket that allowed no light. The absolute, deafening silence that contrasted loudly with his arduous breathing.
As long as his senses were still able to take note of these things, he hadn't lost his mind yet.
As long as he kept his body moving, he still stood a chance of warding off the slow but inevitable onset of insanity. He'd been here before, so he had no delusions about finding a way out or encountering another living soul. He knew how this would end. That it wouldn't end. He'd have eternity to feel nothing, become nothing, so as long as he could still feel something, he'd choose to chase every thought, every memory, every sensory experience, however small or fleeting. It was all he had left.
The pain was his only ally. A wide, deep gash in his thigh, cut to the bone, sent burning pain shooting up his hip and lower back and down his calves every time he put weight on the leg. Even if he'd still had Shiva with him, he wouldn't have chosen to heal or numb the pain. He needed every stab of it to jolt his mind awake.
A step with his good leg. The careful switch to his bad leg. The hot white noise of pain. And again.
It was the rhythm of his entire existence, punctuating the darkness, keeping the dread at bay, one step at a time. It was a pointless defiance, without spectators or consequence, but still he held on. The moment he stumbled, the moment he gave in to the bone-deep weariness that dragged his every step, he'd be lost forever.
So he walked.
Every now and then his mind startled into alertness long enough to consider his environment, his past, his mistakes. It felt like coming up for air, to suddenly remember who he was, where he was.
He couldn't remember how he'd ended up back here though. Hadn't he gotten out? Or was that just a fiction of his starved mind? Had he gone mad without even realizing?
Not that it mattered. Real or imagined made no difference to him anymore. Whether he was back here or still here, he deserved it. He knew that to be true, even if he couldn't remember why.
He counted his steps for a while, until the numbers became too large to hold in his thoughts.
He hummed the songs Matron used to sing to them, but the dead still air swallowed his voice as it swallowed all sound, turning the happy melodies into eerie twisted things. He stopped even though he hadn't remembered them all.
He mentally assembled and disassembled his gunblade in his mind over and over again. Every part. Every action. He imagined the feel of the polished metal underneath his fingers, the scent of oil, the calm of the ritual.
That was a good one. He stuck with it, still tending to his imaginary gunblade, when a tiny dark spot appeared in the distance. He faltered, the fantasy slipping from his grasp as he stared at the inexplicable shape lingering just within his field of vision.
His heart started beating faster even as he told himself it was just another trick of his mind. A mirage.
He moved again, walking steadily faster as the shape grew larger instead of shifting into nothingness or dancing out of his grasp. When the shape revealed itself to be a person, collapsed to the ground, he broke into a limping jog, the fastest his bad leg would allow without numbing magic or Hero potions. His leg complained loudly and sharply at the abuse, his pulse a thundering roar in his ears.
He didn't care if it was a mirage. He didn't care if he'd lost his mind. To see another face, just one more time—
He recognized the trench coat before seeing the newcomer's face.
Faltering, he slowed into a hesitant approach. His euphoria doused and stilled, a sinking dread descending in his stomach as he laid eyes on a face as familiar to him as his own. Twin scars, bounded fates.
Falling to his knees beside Seifer, he willed this not to be real. Life was not allowed to be this cruel. His throat closed up as green eyes blinked open and regarded him, widening briefly as he was recognized.
"…Squ…all..."
The broken, gasping utterance of his name wrenched his heart. After an age spent alone, he'd so desperately wished to hear another voice, but not like this. Never like this. "Don't try to speak," he managed with a thick voice, laying a hand on Seifer's chest.
A weak, stuttering pulse trembled beneath his touch, forever lingering on the edge, one beat away from death. Old blood stained Seifer's torn and singed clothes, a myriad of deep cuts littering his body, his every labored breath rattling with blood and pain. He'd seen that glazed, faraway look in other people's eyes before, knew what it meant.
His hands clenched into Seifer's trench coat, his heart racing with panic. He shook his head, unable to accept any of it. How had this happened? How was Seifer here? The war was over. Seifer was supposed to be safe in Esthar, teaching annoying brats and forging weapons.
"How?" he croaked, his voice raw as the words fought past his lips. "How are you here?"
No answer came. Seifer's eyes rolled away and drifted closed in pain, the man's body caught in the eternal shudders and spasms of death. And there was absolutely nothing he could do to help. No GFs for him to summon, no magic to call upon. Nothing.
This didn't make sense. The last he remembered… Memories clashed in his head with fevered, beautiful delusions. Seifer would never hold him. Never kiss him. Not after what he'd done.
He remembered now. The wild dodge and lunge of his blade, glinting off a rib, cutting into Seifer's flesh. The spells he'd flung Seifer's way. The intent to kill if need be.
He'd done this.
Tightening his grip on Seifer's trench coat, he stared at the man before him as grief and disbelief burned through his chest, blighting all it touched. How had he ever raised his blade against Seifer? How had he ever done such an evil thing? He didn't understand why, but knew it was the truth with damning certainty. This was hell after all. And he'd condemned Seifer to it as well.
"I'm sorry."
Seifer's eyelids fluttered weakly, the sound of the man's rasping breaths kindling a despair in him he'd never known. There'd be no end to this suffering. No relief, no way out.
"I'm sorry," he pleaded again as he dropped his forehead against Seifer's chest. Seifer's skin was cold and clammy against his. So unnaturally pale. Pulling Seifer into his arms, he cradled him close as tears slid down his face. "I'm so sorry."
He whispered the words until his throat was raw with it.
[Roshfall Forest, Greater Obel Lake Area, Saturday, 1st of November, 3:17 am]
Eyes twitching open, Seifer groaned and blinked a few times against the darkness that greeted him. The flickering light from the campfire outside still illuminated the tent in soft hues, but he couldn't see much. Rubbing at his face, he tried to clear his foggy brain and puzzled at why he was awake. He didn't need to piss and he was still Hynedamned exhausted. Rolling onto his side, he tried to make out the lines of Squall's body. Squall had managed to shift out of his embrace during sleep, the man's back turned to him.
About to scoot closer and draw Squall back into his hold, he heard it. A whimper. It was barely audible, but it still caused every last muscle in his body to tense. Raising himself, he reached out to tug at Squall's shoulder. Squall's body was stiff and unyielding underneath his touch, curled in on itself. Cursing, he pulled again and rolled Squall onto his back while fumbling to turn on the camping lantern.
His heart lurched in his chest at the sight that greeted him. Squall's face was set in a grimace of misery, the man's cheeks wet with tears.
"Squall," he urged, grabbing hold of the man's shoulders and giving him a firm shake.
Grey-blue eyes snapped open to look at him, but they didn't turn calm and relieved like when he'd woken Squall from a nightmare back at his apartment. Instead they looked stricken the moment recognition set in. Speechless, Seifer stared as Squall sat up and angled his face away from him.
His throat constricted as he guessed why the man couldn't even look at him. "...D-District?"
Struggling to shut out the images that still lingered vividly behind his closed eyes, Squall swallowed hard before making himself look at Seifer. His nightmare grew louder again, but he clamped down on the memory of blood and forced himself to really see the man. The moment Seifer's drawn expression registered, he rushed to reply.
"No," he tried, but his voice came out a barely audible croak. "No," he repeated more clearly, shaking his head for emphasis.
"But it was me?"
"It was nothing," Squall denied, relieved at the steady sound of his voice.
Meeting Squall's gaze head-on, Seifer didn't buy the man's attempt at composure for even a second. "Like hell you were crying in your sleep over nothing."
Squall's stomach knotted into a tight ball, his hand raising to his cheek. Feeling wetness underneath his fingers, he quickly rubbed his face with the back of his hand. "I'm fine—"
"Stop bullshitting me," Seifer said heatedly, cutting Squall off. "Just tell me the Hynedamned truth."
"Please, just drop it."
"No, I won't fucking drop it," Seifer blurted out. The fact that Squall was even bothering with a please was setting off all kinds of alarms with him. He wasn't going to let a nightmare of such proportions just slide. Definitely not when it clearly involved him. "I can't."
Rapidly losing grasp of his ability to pretend, Squall couldn't bring himself to meet Seifer's gaze anymore. Their tent was starting to feel small and stifling, forcing him into close proximity with the one person he couldn't stand to be around just now. His eyes flitted to the tent-flap in a cowardly reflex.
"Just tell me. What the hell did you dream about?" Seifer pressed, but no reply came. When Squall started to rifle through his bag and put on clothes instead, hurt washed through him. It'd been a while since Squall had ignored him so completely.
"The last time I saw you like this was when you were strung to a fucking wall," he stated painfully. "Don't leave like this. Give me something."
Faltering in the middle of pulling a fresh shirt over his head, Squall frowned at how Seifer's words managed to play on his biggest weakness. His conscience was unable to let Seifer continue in the assumption that D-District was to blame. But to speak of it…
"Talk to me."
Feeling the weight of Seifer's gaze, Squall struggled, caught between selfish cowardice and the promise he'd made to himself that Seifer should never be made to pay for his mistakes again. But the more he got a taste of what happiness could feel like, the more difficult it became to give it up.
He gathered a shaky breath. "...It wasn't just a dream."
Seifer's heart rate finally calmed at getting a few words out of Squall, even if the man still wasn't looking at him. "What was it then?"
Squall furiously wished that his nightmare had gone undetected. That he could've silently recovered while Seifer slept, so that come dawn he could've evaded all suspicion with a convincing facade. But his past crimes weren't so easily swept under the rug.
"Time Compression," he spoke at length, managing to keep his voice tight and even. "I was back there. So were you."
Scrunching up his eyebrows, Seifer eyed Squall carefully. "I was never in Time Compression though... right?"
Squall flinched at the question. He'd been the one to bring Seifer to death's door, to the point the man wasn't even sure about the answer to that question. "You could have been," he said, the horrid realization coming full circle. "If Fujin and Raijin hadn't gotten you out when they did; if you'd been any closer to the center of the spell..." His nightmare could've happened exactly as he'd dreamed it.
Seifer hated to see the naked distress that marred Squall's face. Any relief at not having tortured Squall for another round in the man's dreams failed to materialize. "Just what exactly did you see?"
Squall's lips sloped downwards. The real question was what he'd done. Perhaps Seifer couldn't even remember that much anymore. Perhaps the long period of convalescence after the breaking of his bond with Ultimecia had muddled the man's memory of their final battle. "The state you're in when entering Time Compression is eternal. Whatever injuries you have… Without passage of time it's impossible to die or heal. And you—"
He swallowed thickly, fighting the damning sting to his eyes. Somehow his dreamscape had conjured a perfect replication of his greatest crime. "I couldn't help you—" His words pinched off at the very real emotions that still coursed through him at the memory of it. "You suffered because of what I did."
At the raw tone of Squall's voice, Seifer had trouble blocking out the memories that came flooding back. Their last fight was hazy in his mind, but clear snippets pushed through. Squall's gaze had been cold when fighting him, devoid of any hints of regret or concern. He'd been just another enemy to Squall. An obstacle in his path.
From the perfect night straight into the harsh reality of their past. Squall's subconscious really had a knack for pulling out all the fucking stops. "You did what you had to," he said lowly.
Squall shook his head at the line he'd heard before, but even Seifer didn't manage to sound convinced this time around. It pained him to hear the uncertainty lurking underneath, however much he'd sought Seifer's acknowledgment of his mistakes. In the end the naked truth needed no embellishments. "I almost killed you." He felt detached from the words leaving him, from his past actions. "By my own free will."
Faced with Squall's heavy conscience, Seifer finally had to look away. He'd never truly questioned the rightness of what Squall had done or the hows or whys. As Ultimecia's knight he'd been on the wrong side of the war. It was as simple as that. It didn't matter that they'd always had a special connection, that deep down he wished Squall had seen through Ultimecia's manipulation and had tried to help him. Nothing they did now could change any of it. Nothing he said would make a difference, not without resorting to lies.
Squall grimaced at the heavy silence that fell between them. The pain it caused him suggested he'd been expecting something from Seifer, but just like the evening before, out on that hill in Wendel, he was condemned to a limbo of guilt. Unable to shrug it off a second time, he fought back the wave of self-loathing that washed over him and forced himself to move. He needed to get out and away.
At a loss for words when Squall pushed past him, Seifer felt the pit in his stomach grow wider. He would've gotten angry if not for the drying tear streaks still visible on Squall's face. Hyne, part of him was angry with Squall for doing this right when he'd shared something with the man he'd never shared with another soul. They'd finally been doing better. How the fuck was he supposed to change things back to how they'd been when drifting off to sleep together?
"Shit Squall, hang on," he tried, starting from his inaction when Squall zipped open the tent flap.
Ignoring the halfhearted attempt, Squall hurried as he ducked out of the tent, in desperate need of air and space. He had no tolerance left for more conversation that would only lead them in circles. Stepping out into the open, the rush of cold wind braced him, but it was the piercing gaze of one red eye that halted him.
Fujin was sitting by the fire, her face set in an expressionless mask as she stared at him. The play of flames and shadows across the lines of her face made her seem even more like a silent paragon of judgment, further hastening his pace when he remembered to move again.
Filled with shame, he looked away and hurried over to where his boots were still drying by the fire. Sticking his feet inside despite the still damp leather, he ignored the rustling sounds and curses that came from the tent behind him and headed for the closest tree line that would take him out of sight.
Trying to decipher what she had just overheard, Fujin watched Squall disappear between the trees. He'd sounded desperate as she'd listened to the voices coming from Seifer's tent. She'd never imagined Squall displaying such emotion. If he hadn't cared during the war, then what right did he have to care now?
Seifer looked haggard as he approached her by the campfire, clothes pulled on roughly and disorderly. His gaze landed on her briefly, before darting between the trees, his hand running through his hair. "Which way did he go?"
Raising the branch she'd been poking and stirring the fire with, she pointed in the right direction.
Seifer grit his teeth. It'd be a fucking pain to chase Squall in the dark. He was good at tracking but Squall was even better at pulling disappearance acts. And more than that… even if he did find Squall, he had no fucking clue what to say to the man. They'd barely scraped through back in Wendel, without arriving at any real resolution. He'd blustered his way through by coaxing a fond memory out of Squall and making a rather vague promise to stick together. He'd hoped it would be enough. Especially after last night. Fuck.
Dropping himself down on one of the logs by the fire, he dragged another hand through his hair before glancing Fujin's way. She met his gaze silently, foregoing any comment on the shit storm she'd just witnessed. "So… you heard all that?"
He grimaced when she nodded and let out a weary sigh. He would've asked why she was still up this late in the first place, but he could make a good-enough guess. She'd always had trouble sleeping when something was on her mind. The chances of him getting any more sleep after this were pretty fucking slim as well.
He hated seeing Squall like this. Squall's tears were already imprinted deeply into his mind, just like the first time he'd seen them in D-District. He couldn't believe a nightmare of him in pain had caused them. He couldn't even find a shred of consolation in the fact that Squall cared about him to such an extent. All he wanted was to never see Squall like that again.
Squall felt guilty, so fucking guilty that it was now manifesting in the man's dreams. It had been right there, staring him in the fucking face throughout every interaction they'd had whenever shit had gotten real between them. It had been there in Squall's random apology in the field after their ugly confrontation in Winhill; after he'd beaten the man. It had been there when Squall had taken Fujin's every blaming word to heart and had even defended her reaction. It had been there up on the hill in Wendel. He'd failed to deal with any of it, until it'd blown up in his face. Just when he'd fallen asleep thinking things couldn't possibly get any fucking better.
Quelling another stab of frustration at Squall's cowardly escape, he knew he was being unfair. He'd done the exact same thing back in Winhill. Only difference was, Squall had tried everything to stop him and stay by his side, while he'd just let the man run off.
"You're wrong about him."
Fujin looked up from the flames at the quietly spoken words. Earlier that night she had felt as secure in her conviction as ever. It was the very reason she was sitting here by the fire in the middle of the night. Even after hours of training she'd been unable to find peace because of everything Squall's presence had stirred loose. But now, Squall's desperate voice kept echoing in her ears.
"TIME COMPRESSION?" she asked with a frown.
Sighing, Seifer knew without a doubt from those two words alone that Fujin really had overheard everything. "...It was a hellhole Squall was trapped in after the war." He clenched his fists. "Ultimecia cast this spell at the end of the war to rip apart space and time. After Squall killed her, he got stuck in a timeless wasteland. I have no idea how long he was trapped in there for, but it sounded like a fucking eternity."
Fujin didn't know what to make of the protectiveness and simmering anger that laced Seifer's every word. Part of her thought it was only right that Squall hadn't escaped unscathed and had actually faced punishment. She knew better than to say that out loud though.
"I know you've got it in for him, but you've got no fucking clue what he's been through or what he's done for me."
"EXPLAIN."
Running his hand over his forehead, kneading gently, Seifer leaned his elbows on his knees. "He's shown me that Ultimecia was the one to blame. Not me."
Fujin stared at Seifer as a million thoughts rushed through her head. She knew how heavily Seifer's conscience had weighed on him ever since coming to after the war. She'd been at a loss, unable to figure out a way to help him when any and all talk of the war had been taboo. It rankled her to think Squall had succeeded where she'd failed, but if it was true… "HOW?"
"Ellone," he said softly. "He took me to see her."
Fujin frowned as she recalled the young woman Raijin and her had been sent to hunt down during the war, unsure what she had to do with anything.
"You know about her powers?"
Fujin shook her head at the question, never having been told anything of the sort. "SORCERESS?" she asked, a chill running down her back at the thought of more of them out there. Perhaps Ultimecia hadn't wanted any contenders.
"Hell if I know," Seifer said, no longer certain what constituted a sorceress. "She can temporarily send people's consciousness into the past. Into other people's memories. You experience everything from inside their head, as if you were actually there, living it yourself."
Fujin raised an eyebrow at such strange magic. Something like that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands. She frowned to think they'd delivered such a weapon right onto Ultimecia's doorstep.
"After the war Squall asked her to access my memories during the war." A brief surge of indignation rose inside Seifer just like when Squall had first confessed the invasive truth to him. "He couldn't see anything. Ellone had already shown him memories from other people's pasts, so he knew how it worked and that it should work. After we stumbled into each other again, he wanted to help. He believed he couldn't see my memories during my time as a knight because of Ultimecia's influence on my mind and that we could prove it by comparing our time as knights. Him going into my memories and me into his." He paused to emphasize his words. "It worked."
"BELIEVE?"
"Yes," he replied firmly, absolutely convinced by the evidence they'd uncovered, however hardwon.
Fujin tried to imagine it; Seifer seeing Squall's past through the man's eyes and vice versa. She had trouble believing someone as private as Squall would let anyone enter his memories like that. "SAW. WHAT?"
"Squall getting a GF, kicking ass," Seifer said with a short-lived smile. "That and a fucking awful memory." He almost managed to curb the immediate revulsion that spiked at the brief glimpses flashing through his mind. "Squall was bonded during both memories. When Ellone tried to access mine, she couldn't get into most of my memories from the war. She only succeeded once and Squall was forced out of my mind by Ultimecia then. He could see memories from before and after the war just fine though. Squall's theory was right."
Fujin raised an eyebrow at that. The extent to which Squall and Seifer had let each other into their past spoke volumes of their changed relationship. Squall's now supposed concern for Seifer stood in stark contrast to the complete disregard he'd shown for Seifer at the end of the war. It only served to reinforce the belief she'd always held. "SQUALL, GUILTY. YOU, INNOCENT."
Seifer shook his head, but the pain that always lingered in the background was steadily growing again when confronted with the war. "I did much worse things than Squall during the war. Much worse," he ground out. "He had every fucking right to fight me the way he did."
Swallowing hard, Fujin was afraid to voice her suspicions after what she'd overheard. "D-DISTRICT?" she asked, well aware it was a prison in Galbadia, one that Seifer had been stationed at for some time while she'd been out searching for Ellone together with Raijin. She also knew it was where Squall and his team members had been incarcerated after their assassination attempt in Deling.
Staring at the flames, Seifer had to steady his thoughts. He'd tried so hard to push back those memories, still had trouble dealing with them even though he now knew Ultimecia had forced his hand.
"I tortured him," he spoke in a low voice, still able to remember every single damning thing he'd done. He had never wanted Fujin to find out, for her to know just how low he'd sunk. The shame and guilt he'd been carrying for so long were almost impossible to suppress, a deeply rooted reflex that would take heaps of time to work through. "I electrocuted him. Beat him. Said the most Hyne-awful things. With no other fucking point than to break him." He lowered his head to rest his forehead in his hands. "He was there for three days." He clenched his teeth, tried to push down the self-loathing.
Taken aback by the grim look on Seifer's face, the implied horror of what he'd just said, Fujin felt her throat constrict. This had to be one of the reasons why Seifer almost hadn't come back to them; why he'd almost given in to despair.
"HER," she countered loudly, unwilling to even entertain the notion that Seifer had done something like that of his own accord. It had Ultimecia's brand of cruelty written all over it. "ALWAYS KNEW. SQUALL DIDN'T. HURT YOU. REVENGE."
Seifer winced, once more remembering the blank, cold look to Squall's eyes when they'd fought. It hadn't been a look of hate or anger. It had been a look of detached resolve. Of duty. "He's not capable of revenge, Fu. He's a hero through and through. Not a single bad bone in his body."
"HERO?" Fujin snorted, getting worked up. "ABANDONED YOU. LEFT YOU FOR DEAD." She clenched her jaw as one bitter memory after another forced its way to the surface. "RAI CARRIED YOU." She shook her head before spitting out the next words. "DIED. NO PULSE. ALMOST LOST YOU."
Seifer grimaced at Fujin's distraught words. He'd never wanted to hear them, had always cut her off whenever it had seemed like she'd bring up things he'd rather keep buried. Looking at Fujin now however, seeing the toll such prolonged silence had taken on her, he had the uncomfortable realization he hadn't only been blind to Squall's feelings.
"…I don't remember," he said uselessly. He hadn't known just how close he'd come to dying. He sure as hell had never asked.
"AFTER WAR. YOU. NIGHTMARES," Fujin plowed on when Seifer for once didn't immediately shut her up. She needed him to understand why she could never accept Squall. "SCREAMED. HIS NAME." Everything inside of her wound tight at recalling those long nights. "FAILED YOU. DISCARDED YOU."
Frowning, Seifer tried to remember anything from that time, but it was mostly a blur. He remembered having nightmares and lots of them but he'd had no clue he'd screamed. Fujin had been the one to watch over him, to see him at his worst. No fucking wonder she hated Squall's guts, even if her reasoning was flawed as hell.
"If I screamed out his name, it wasn't because of what he did. It was because of what I did," he said grimly. "I hate what I did to him. After D-District, I tried to end it right then and there. After the war I wished I hadn't come to. I couldn't face what I'd done." Nor could he face Fujin right now, ashamed of even having toyed with such suicidal thoughts when she'd fought so hard for him.
Fujin flinched at hearing the ugly truth finally spoken out loud. She'd suspected as much, but in the end she'd respected Seifer's need to pretend as if nothing was wrong. She'd been too afraid to force the matter. So afraid she could still lose him just when they'd finally been safe. That old fear took hold of her again, wrapping its cold fingers around her heart.
"NOT YOU," she reiterated strongly, needing to get it through his thick skull.
Holding Fujin's gaze, Seifer let her faith in him suffuse and comfort him. She'd always believed in him. Had always supported him. "I know. Finally. Like I said, he showed me."
Fujin breathed in deeply and steadied herself. "CAN'T FORGIVE."
Seifer winced at the harsh judgment, realizing his own hypocrisy for wanting to fight Fujin on the matter when he'd told Squall the exact same thing only a day ago. Hearing it said back to him like this, a sense of trepidation took hold of him. Squall hadn't deserved that. He didn't deserve any of this.
He needed to make Fujin understand. All of it.
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him," he admitted softly. "After what I did to him in D-District… landing at the bottom of Shennard Canyon seemed like a good option. I stole a humvee and tried to drive myself right off that edge. It was one of the rare moments when I was in control… one of the memories Squall got to see at Ellone's." He stared at the flames, swallowing hard. "Somehow he managed to throw the steering wheel around. Save me. I thought it was Ultimecia denying me an escape at the time."
Having trouble parsing everything Seifer had just laid on her, Fujin stared at him. He looked dead serious, as if he hadn't just told her the most horrible, unlikely story. Seifer had tried to kill himself and Squall had stopped him. She couldn't believe it, nor the incredibly tall tale Seifer had tried to explain it with. All she could see in her mind's eye was Squall lunging at Seifer again and again. Ready to maim. Ready to kill.
Seifer's voice cut through her frantic thoughts. "He only did what he had to during the war."
Fujin shook her head, unable to reconcile what Seifer was saying with what she had witnessed during the war. "CHANGED. MAYBE. BACK THEN. PREPARED TO KILL. COULD HAVE SAVED."
Seifer frowned, then picked up a dry stick and added it to the flames. Fujin's implication was clear. She thought Squall could have saved him if he'd wanted to. He wasn't so sure himself. Even if Squall had questioned his behavior after D-District, it would have been difficult, near impossible even. No… the true question was why Squall had given up on him. The more he thought about it, the less certain he felt.
Snippets of hateful words, demeaning and humiliating, floated to the surface of his memory. He'd mocked Squall during those days of torture, had shown nothing but contempt for the man. What reason had Squall had not to believe all the crap he'd been spouting while Squall had been bound to that wall? Back at Garden he'd never tried to be Squall's friend. Whenever the air between them had gotten too friendly, too laden, brimming with something, he'd had the knee jerk reaction to push Squall away with a sneer and a harsh word. Sometimes with his fists or gunblade.
"How would you say I treated Squall at Garden?" he asked, already afraid of the answer. "Be honest."
Unable to follow the leaps Seifer was taking, Fujin hesitated at the unexpected turn in conversation. She wanted to say it didn't matter how he'd treated Squall, but the lie halted on her tongue. "OBSESSED," she offered instead.
Seifer snorted at the half-assed reply. "That's all?"
Fujin frowned, remembering all too well how she'd tried but failed to temper Seifer whenever he'd been in the grip of one of his worse moods. Anyone who got in his way used to pay the price on those days, but Squall… Seifer had gone out of his way to hunt the cadet down and take out his frustration on the guy. Anyone else and she would've called it harassment, but in the end she hadn't cared all that much. She'd liked the way Seifer had made her and their little posse feel untouchable. When they'd walked the hallways of Garden together, she'd liked the way the other cadets had parted for the three of them. It brought a curl of distaste to her mouth to remember it now. The blind arrogance of youth.
"If you won't say it, I will," Seifer spoke into the incriminating silence. "I was a Hynedamned bully."
"…MAYBE," Fujin conceded unhappily. "NOT CRIMINAL."
"How was he supposed to tell the difference?" Seifer said with a frown, his voice growing more severe. "After all that, he was supposed to trust me? While I fucking tortured him?"
Fujin's lips drew into a tight line as Seifer cornered her with his twisted logic. She told herself it hadn't been like that. Back at Garden Squall could've just walked away, but he'd met Seifer every step of the way. He'd returned plenty of bruises and black eyes as well. A rare few times Squall had even been the agitator, when Seifer might've let things rest. "SQUALL. HELD HIS OWN. EQUALS. SHOULD'VE KNOWN YOU."
Seifer shook his head as Fujin voiced the eerily familiar sentiment that Squall himself had uttered just the day before. It was convenient to believe Squall and him had both been just as bad. Two bastards in a fucking pod. But deep down he knew better.
"He went through hell," he said, for the first time trying to imagine what it must have been like for Squall to be tortured by someone he'd grown up with.
He prodded at the memories of D-District he'd tried to bury for so long. Squall's tears, the involuntary jerks of Squall's body and pained gasps. The stench of piss and the sound of slowly dripping blood. They'd both known there'd been no point to the torture; no worthwile information to extract or secrets to obtain. They'd even been taught as much back at Garden. Most torturers did what they did to satisfy their sadistic urges; not to gain knowledge. The words Ultimecia had put in his mouth as he'd sent the electricity flowing definitely hammered that point home. She'd gained nothing from the ridiculous line of questioning she'd insisted on, but everything from making him Squall's torturer.
It was still such a fucking wonder that Squall could even stand to be around him. He sure as hell wasn't able to forgive Edea, let alone think about his one-time Matron without a shudder of disgust, even if Ultimecia had been the one behind the wheel, calling all the shots. In the end it didn't matter who pulled the lever or held the knife. There was no erasing the consequences of going through something like that. No way to shut out the memories when you closed your eyes. He had no fucking clue how Squall had managed such an impossible feat.
Dread ran through him as he finally forced himself to consider Squall's side of things. He'd always felt too guilty to examine what D-District might have done to Squall on a deeper level, always focused on his own damn hurt and shame while squaring Squall's pain away as something that had happened in the past, over and done with. But Squall was just as human as the rest of them.
Did Squall sometimes startle awake in the middle of the night, bathed in sweat, still feeling the sting of electricity? Did his heart erupt in a loud thunder when a sudden smell or a sound transported him right back into that torture chamber? Did Squall feel as small and powerless as he did when remembering the war? He couldn't fucking stand the thought.
He tried to imagine events the other way around, if Ultimecia had taken Squall instead of him. Him coming to in a prison. Guards bringing him to a torture chamber only for Squall to walk in and take charge. He grimaced. He couldn't imagine Squall speaking the poisonous words he'd spoken himself. No. Ultimecia would've taken a different tack with Squall. She would have amplified Squall's taciturn side until all that was left was a cold demeanor and even colder glare. Squall would've been stern and sparing in his words while interrogating. He would have let the pain do the talking.
Would he have believed Squall capable of it?
He swallowed hard as he realized the answer. If Ultimecia had been as subtle with the escalation of Squall's behavior as she'd been with his… he would have. No doubt about it. He wouldn't have stopped to think things through. He definitely wouldn't have bothered lingering on fond past memories or old attachments. He would've fallen into a rage and would have opted for revenge. He would've fucking hunted Squall down afterwards and made him pay. He couldn't believe how Squall had managed to go down a different path. Somehow the man had come out of the war and Time Compression looking for explanations and wanting to help him. Who the fuck actually came out of torture with the resolve to help their tormenter?
He'd let Squall down in so many ways. Too fucking blind. Too fucking self-centred.
Fujin watched with a deepening frown as Seifer kept staring at the fire in silence, the man's hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. The haunted look that had taken over Seifer's expression scared her even more than the lack of words. She'd seen this too many times in the past. "SPEAK," she demanded, needing to shake him from whatever troubled him.
"I messed up," Seifer confessed, dropping his face into his hands. "I focused on the wrong damn thing." He shook his head. "I was so fucking obsessed with my own shit that I didn't even consider what it's been like for him." He raised his head to meet Fujin's gaze squarely. "You saw him at the end. That final battle wasn't revenge. His eyes were fucking empty by then. I just never saw it for what it was."
Thinking back to those frantic moments, filled with the overwhelming need to run to Seifer's side, Fujin had trouble keeping Seifer's gaze. In her memories she could only see Squall hounding Seifer with nothing but disdain, but her truth and experiences clearly differed from Seifer's.
"WHAT?" she asked, forcing herself to try and understand.
"Trauma," Seifer deadpanned, his chest tightening as he finally realized the meaning of the blank rigor that had overtaken Squall's face. In all their years of fighting and arguing, despite the man's cold reputation, Squall had never once looked so lifeless. Especially not whenever they were fighting. But during that final battle… Squall hadn't even released a single cry of anger as Seifer had cut past the man's defenses. The perfect unfeeling soldier, eyes detached. "I've been fucking blind to it. He's been doing everything he can to help me, to ease my guilt, and all this time… he never even fucking flinched taking on all that guilt himself. And I let him. I couldn't even give him the same things I need. Forgiveness. Fucking closure for a change." Seifer shook his head and scoffed at the promise he'd made himself to be the best Hynedamned boyfriend ever. He'd done a shit job of it so far.
"Shit Fu. All I've done is take, take, take." He got up from the log, looked back over to where Squall had headed off and sucked in the cold night air. "I'm going to make things right." Impatient to make good on his resolve, he looked Fujin's way and fixed her with a firm gaze. He couldn't bring Squall back here if all that waited for the man was more disapproval. They needed to move forward. Move on. "Promise me you're not going to lay into him again. He's got as little blame in this as I do."
Fujin tried to curb her resentment, a tough reflex to battle. She wanted to protest Seifer's statement that Squall was blameless, but she could no longer ignore everything Seifer had told her either. Everything she'd witnessed. Just hours earlier her friend had been the happiest she'd seen him since the war, in fact more happy than she could ever remember seeing him. Carefree and with an appetite for life she'd sorely missed. Somehow Squall had been able to give that back to Seifer.
Whether it was love or something else, she didn't have the heart to keep hurting her friend.
"PROMISE," she offered reluctantly.
"I'll hold you to that," Seifer said soberly before turning his back to her and trotting off into the dark forest.
Fujin watched until long after he'd disappeared from sight. Their conversation hadn't brought her the clarity she'd hoped for, the picture Seifer had painted refusing to align with her recollections of the war.
There was much she hadn't been made privy to. She couldn't be sure whether it was because of Ultimecia's paranoia or because the sorceress had wanted to isolate Seifer from any friends he might've called on. Perhaps both. Raijin and her had been sent away often, far from Seifer's side. They'd never seen the full depths of the depravity Ultimecia had forced on her knight.
Torture. Hyne. And there were the rumors Raijin and her had overheard, circulating among the Galbadian soldiers. She'd never heard them use Seifer's name, the soldiers instead speaking of 'Ultimecia's lapdog' with a palpable note of fear when they'd believed no one was listening in. She'd seen the smoke plumes in the distance while waiting for Seifer and a band of soldiers to return from a small village that Ultimecia had demanded to be raided. She'd never had the heart to go investigate.
She shuddered at the memories, her heart aching for Seifer. If it had been Ultimecia's aim to completely cut Seifer off from anyone who might've helped him, the sorceress had very nearly succeeded. She knew with absolute certainty that Ultimecia would've set Seifer on Raijin and her as well if they'd shown even one shred of disobedience. But they'd been smarter than that. They'd played the long game, biding their time.
Why hadn't Squall? If someone would've been able to save Seifer, it would've been the SeeD Commander.
She tried to summon the same old hatred that had sustained her the past few years, but it faltered and petered out as new facts clashed with her previously incomplete picture of the war. She hadn't known Squall had been made to suffer at Seifer's hands like that… The cold and pitiless picture of the SeeD Commander she'd nurtured in her mind all this time failed to match the man Seifer had brought along on their trip. She couldn't recognize Squall anymore. Maybe she'd never really known him.
All signs seemed to indicate that Squall actually cared about Seifer a great deal, even if it still seemed absurd to her. She didn't understand how anyone could go from fighting someone to the death to sharing their bed. Seifer hadn't willingly fought Squall, but Squall had no such excuses. She'd heard him say it himself.
But war had a way of making people do things they normally wouldn't. That was a truth she'd experienced herself intimately. Raijin and her had done questionable things—criminal things—just to be able to stay by their friend's side. They'd managed to avoid outright murder, but they hadn't exactly left the world better off either. Whatever Squall had done, he might have had his reasons. Reasons that made horrible actions seem necessary.
She frowned at herself, the evil caricature she'd fashioned Squall into falling apart the more she pondered it. Culpability and justice really were in the eye of the beholder, and Squall could've easily taken the high ground as the SeeD Commander who saved the world. Only he hadn't.
The truth was a complex, convoluted thing.
Hyne, how she hated that realization. In a way hatred was an easier emotion to embrace than the powerlessness and grief that had haunted her since the war. It had carried her through her most difficult days. Part of her didn't want to lose that focus, that anger, afraid of what would be left in its wake.
Too tired and frustrated to force all the facts into a bigger picture she could understand anymore, she let out a sigh and stared at the stick she'd been poking the fire with before tossing it onto the campfire as well. Getting up from her log, she stretched her stiff shoulders and glanced towards the tents behind her. Raijin's distant snores traveled through the night air, the irritating sound bringing a kernel of warmth to her chest and beckoning her home into his arms. It was the only place she'd ever known peace. She didn't know what she'd do without him.
It was a difficult thought to entertain that Squall might mean something similar to Seifer. Something indispensable, crucial to Seifer's happiness.
She forced herself to look at their gunblades stuck into the ground side by side, standing vigil by the fire. The open flap of their tent fluttered in the wind, revealing the intimate sleeping arrangement within. Evidence after evidence, piling up, daring her to ignore the truth any longer.
She walked over to zip their tent closed, barring any wild animals from entering, before heading to her own tent. The next few days would bring their own answers, one way or the other. She'd keep an eye on Seifer and Squall, with perhaps a more open mind than she'd started off with.
A truce for now. For Seifer's sake.
[Roshfall Forest, Greater Obel Lake Area, Saturday, 1st of November, 4:36 am]
Shiva debated her options as she silently watched Squall from within. The past few days had been a great strain on her lion, but she knew all too well his reluctance to accept her advice when he wasn't yet ready to receive it. Usually she was prepared to wait out his stubborn streak, but not this time.
Concern filled her as she followed the meandering of Squall's thoughts, each one lingering on a worse memory than the last, threaded together by a heartache so raw, it pulsed through her as well. His feet carried them deep into the dark woods, his eyes unseeing, his heart in turmoil, so she carefully nudged his steps, becoming his guide and compass when he no longer cared himself where he ended up. She had done so many times before in the past, keeping a watchful eye while he wandered aimlessly, trying to outrun his own thoughts. All futile attempts, but she accompanied him nonetheless.
Her lion was capable of such deep feeling, a troubling thing when combined with the deep stupidity he sometimes managed to display as well. A tremendous gift had entered his life, beyond anything she'd ever hoped for him, yet he was intent on rendering himself unworthy and unloved.
With a little push inside his mind, she made him take notice of the small clearing they'd stumbled upon and the faint moonlight that slanted through the high treetops. She pulled his attention to a rocky formation overgrown with moss, coaxing him to sit and rest. He chafed at her ministrations, aware of them for the first time since they'd set out, but eventually he complied.
Unfortunately the view of the moon only brought about distorted memories of the previous night. The bittersweet closeness of the evening on the hill had been tainted with foreboding, the tentative hope he'd felt in the golden one's embrace replaced with regret.
She would've smiled at the dramatic flair of youth, but her lion had been through more than most. Any optimism had been weeded out of him at a young age. She'd come too late into his life to remedy the harm that'd been done. She'd been unable to protect him from the war as well. She'd watched on as he'd moved through life joylessly, the weight of responsibility driving his every action.
The leap of his heart when he'd first spotted the golden one again had come as the greatest relief. The guilty wander of his gaze and his growing passion had been a welcome surprise. He wasn't meant to be alone.
And so she shooed away the thoughts of war and reminded him of the promise that had been spoken.
Warm breath. A stubbly cheek pressed against his neck. Strong arms pulling him close. We're sticking together this time.
Her lion didn't take kindly to her attempt, trying to push her away, but she conjured yet another happy memory. He had so few of them, shining inside his mind like precious gems. She was careful not to corrupt and hollow them with her touch now that she'd learned how.
A small hand curling into his, pulling him along the beach. Safe. Home. Together.
"Stop it."
She didn't listen to his plea, spoken out loud into the night. If he was determined to torture himself with the worst of his past, she'd counter him with the best.
The clash of gunblades. His blood singing with adrenaline. The elation of the dance he could only dance with his golden one.
He became angry, immediately displacing the memory of the exhilarating spar with the gruesome battle they'd fought. More blood than he'd ever claimed. More pain than he'd ever inflicted.
So stubborn. So quick to forget what really mattered.
Hot lips roving his. Insatiable hunger. Deep thrusts rocking his body as the golden one claimed him, those emerald eyes burning for him.
Griever stirred at her efforts and let out a roar of approval, congratulating her lion on such a vigorous mate. A worthy match.
"STOP!" her lion yelled, grabbing his head as if he could yank them and the memories out of it. They both knew he wouldn't. "Stop," he repeated more softly. "What I want doesn't matter."
She chided him for even uttering such sad words, punctuating her displeasure with a sharp little chill that brought frost to his breath. She'd been inside the golden one's mind and had experienced his concern and regard for her lion. She'd seen the lust in his eyes and had pricked his jealousy. But most importantly, she'd felt the beginnings of something true and loyal. A wealth of feeling that matched her lion's.
I don't want that life anymore. I want you! You're the only thing that makes sense anymore.
He wavered at the memory she'd infused with the fledgling feelings she'd glimpsed inside the golden one's mind.
When I realized you'd gone... It hurt more than last night. I couldn't fucking think.
He resisted the urge to glance back the way they'd come, to where he'd left the golden one behind. But instead of rising to his feet as she'd hoped, he managed to compound his feelings of guilt. Always hurting his golden one, always disappointing.
Griever growled at such defeatism, undermining her delicate efforts and urging her lion to simply claim his mate and be done with it. Once part of the pride, the golden one would be safe and protected.
The complications of human love were lost on the brute, even if he did have a point.
Her lion was ignoring them now, pulling his thoughts away from them in a way he shouldn't have been able to. He'd learned that trick a while ago; a sort of flattening and lessening of himself, until he was so numb not even his guardian forces could reach him.
She tried to thrust a few more happy memories at him, but they skidded off his defenses. None of her efforts sufficed. After all, memories were only a dim reproduction of the real thing. Only the golden one stood a chance of drawing her lion out of this gloom.
The golden one had taken his sweet time as well, conversing with the fiery small woman instead of pursuing her lion right away. A mistake she didn't look on too kindly. Casting her sensory awareness wide until she sensed him, a few miles to the southeast, she sought his attention with a frosty breeze.
He didn't notice right away, too consumed by his search, ranging farther away from her lion instead of closer. Adding sharpness to her chill touch, she coaxed a few shivers from him until he finally halted and looked about the forest warily with his junction amplified sight. She froze the leaves of the underbrush to his right, frosting them white. The moment he drew closer to investigate, she pushed up a few ice crystals from a shallow pool of water that sat a small distance away.
The golden one's eyes widened in understanding, his feet carrying him more quickly to her next marker of white frost creeping up a tree. Coaxing him along the right path, she sensed with satisfaction how he added speed to his trek now that there was no more need for tracking.
She was careful not to alert her lion, afraid he'd flee the moment he caught on to her ploy. Any other time he would've noticed by now, attuned as they were to each other, but the wall he'd retreated behind worked both ways, allowing her to guide the golden one with slight frozen touches here and there, just enough to lead the way. She waited for him to draw closer. She could sense the night critters scurrying away from his path before she could finally hear his distant footsteps.
Her lion truly had grown too used to her standing vigil. Without any warning from her, he remained unaware of his golden one's approach until it was too late. The sound of branches snapping beneath boots finally started him from his daze. He stiffened and turned his attention to her with a displeased stab of betrayal. She chided him with a chill huff and withdrew her icy touch from the world, letting herself sink back into the deepest reaches of her lion's mind. It was the golden one's turn now.
Squall frowned at Shiva's sudden disappearance and slowly looked up to find Seifer standing between the trees, a junction fading from his eyes as they turned green again. The man's labored breathing betrayed his earlier haste, but now he lingered at the clearing's edge, as if waiting for permission. Squall's heart skipped into a faster beat, the numbness that had pervaded him making way for a sharp stab of shame. He hadn't expected for Seifer to chase him down like this. He had thought he'd have more time before he'd need to pull himself together again.
Relieved to finally lay eyes on Squall, Seifer crossed the remaining distance between them more calmly. He hadn't known what to make of Shiva reaching out to him like that and had broken into a run on instinct. Looking at the man now though, he highly doubted Shiva had intervened at Squall's request.
Lowering himself to sit on the large rock next to Squall, he softly nudged his leg against Squall's. More than anything, he wanted Squall to know they were in this together.
Squall fought not to flinch at the touch of Seifer's thigh against his. He could sense the man's wary concern, the tension in the air. He'd come to recognize this kind of silence between them and this time the fault was entirely his. Now that the immediacy of his nightmare had faded, he felt embarrassed at how he'd fled. No wonder Seifer was looking at him like he'd fall apart any moment. He hated being coddled like this. Hated being this weak. He had to snap out of it. Push it all down and away.
"I would've headed back in a while," he deadpanned. "You didn't have to come find me."
Seifer sighed as she scratched at his stubble. Squall had never looked fondly upon interruptions when retreating into his head and this time clearly wasn't any different. "I know," Seifer admitted. "But I won't let you keep beating yourself up."
Fighting a frown, Squall tried not to be taken in by Seifer's kindness. He didn't deserve to be comforted and he was too tired to face the past anymore. He just wanted to hide. "I overreacted. That's all." He looked in the direction of their camp, avoiding Seifer's gaze. "I'm fine now, so let's go."
Instinctively grabbing hold of Squall's wrist as the man moved to get up, Seifer realized he was already on thin ice. "Please, just sit." Breathing in the night air more calmly when Squall eyed him warily before sitting down again, he considered where to even start. Squall was reluctant to trust by nature and mere words had never impressed the man much.
"I've been thinking about the war, about everything that happened," he began, unsurprised by the stiffness that single line instilled in Squall's pose. "I didn't realize how much guilt you carry because of the war. I mean, you won. You were on the good side. You're the fucking hero." He shook his head at how he'd bought into the SeeD Commander mythos as well. "I wanted to believe you got through the war okay, not the fucked up shit you've had to live through instead."
Hero. Squall doubted there was a word he detested more. "My life suits me fine."
Seifer raised an eyebrow at the defensive retort. "I don't buy that. Not for a second. You deserve far more than you give yourself credit for and I'm going to make damned sure you get it."
Thrown off by the unexpected sentiment, Squall glanced beside him with a frown. Seifer's inconsistency made his head hurt with the effort of trying to understand the man. "You don't need to do anything for me."
"That's where you're wrong," Seifer countered, holding Squall's gaze. "Everyone makes mistakes, Squall," he said softly. "Hyne, I happily signed away my soul for a fucking shot at fame and power. Ultimecia didn't take over an unwilling mind at the start." He hated admitting it, but they needed this honesty between them. "When you stayed to get answers about the war, you listened and when push came to shove you decided to help me. You freed me of my guilt because you saw what it was doing to me." From the very start, Squall had been there for him, selfless and steadfast. He couldn't say the same for himself at all. "Your nightmare tonight. Seeing you like that… I know you hate what you did. That you'd fight for me now. That's all I need to forgive you."
Squall's frown deepened, his heart clenching painfully. However much he wanted to, he couldn't let himself accept those treacherous words. Especially not when he needed so desperately for them to be true. He knew what he'd done, what he did and didn't deserve.
"You don't believe me, do you?" Seifer asked quietly when no response came. Squall's pained gaze darted away again, the man not saying a word to contradict him. Seifer sighed. He wished he could take back his words in Wendel; that he'd handled things better earlier in their tent.
"How could I ever fucking blame you? Hyne, you were just a rookie when Garden put you in charge. Your first Hynedamned mission was an assassination that turned into a war. They made you responsible for winning that war when you were seventeen years old and right at the start of it you were fucking tortured by someone you grew up with." It sounded insane when spoken out loud like that. Infinitely unfair, rivaling his own shit luck in life. Looking Squall's way, studying the grim set to the man's face, he wished he could've protected Squall from all of it. "They didn't teach us how to deal with shit like that. They just needed the job done. Neither of us had any fucking control over what happened to us."
Squall drew in a deep breath as he remembered the immense pressure he'd been under. He was more accustomed to the weight of command these days, but back then… He'd gone far beyond his own limits during the war, yet still he'd fallen short. Whatever lessons he'd learned, he'd learned too late. "I still should've helped you. I should've done better."
"Same goes for me," Seifer said firmly. There were so many ways they both could have done better, but regretting them now would only make the path in front of them all the harder. "Fuck the war. Fuck what it made us do. It's not who we are anymore and I won't let the past fuck this up for us. If you can look at me and not see what I did to you, then to hell with it all, I'll do the same and only see what's right in front of me."
Squall had to look away. He didn't know where Seifer kept conjuring this will to fly in the face of everything that stood between them. Could forgiveness truly be as simple as making a decision? His own feelings rarely abided by any rational choices he tried to impose on them. He couldn't forget Seifer's pained expression when he'd told the man the truth either.
"Whatever you think you see… don't make promises you can't keep."
"I won't," Seifer promised, aching at just how small Squall's voice sounded. It wasn't right for Squall to ever feel undeserving of anything, let alone forgiveness. "What I see is you, Squall, and you're fucking amazing."
When Squall just avoided his gaze instead of acknowledging him, Seifer knew he had to double down. "Shit, Squall, you managed to forgive me for the fucking hell I put you through, for all the mistakes I made long before Ultimecia came along. Why can't you let me do the same?"
Squall frowned at the hurt lacing Seifer's voice. Seifer meant every single word. He always did. Not allowing himself to forget that fact, he reminded the man. "Just yesterday you said you can't forgive me."
"Yesterday I was a fucking idiot. I didn't realize what I should have seen right away. Neither of us came out of the war unscathed. Your scars run just as deep as mine. I was too fucking blind. I let you help me without thinking about what it was doing to you. I can't do that anymore."
"Anything I did for you, I did for myself as well," Squall said with a shake of his head. "I'm more selfish than you think."
Seifer huffed softly at the ridiculous statement. "Good. I want you to be selfish."
"Don't joke about this."
"I'm not," Seifer shot back, his words gaining more volume. "You always put yourself last. I want you to take what you want for a change."
Faced with Seifer's dogged intensity, Squall was quickly running out of patience. "I had a nightmare," he said tiredly, too afraid to put any real stock in Seifer's kind words should the man ever take them back. "I'll get over it."
"I don't want you to get over it. I don't want you to suppress the hell out of it. I want you to believe me." Seifer brought a hand up and ran it through his hair. "I've had my head up my ass until now," he said with a snort. "I figured we were doing well, working through our shit, but it's been my shit. Yesterday was the first real time you let slip some of how it was for you and I… I was useless," he admitted, hating how he'd failed so completely. "But I think I understand now. D-District impacted—"
"My nightmare had nothing to do with D-District."
Seifer studied Squall at the sharp interruption. It reeked of denial. "It's got everything to do with D-District," he said emphatically. "It's where everything went to shit. At the time you didn't know about Ultimecia's powers. What she could do to people. All you saw was me."
"It wasn't you."
"We know that now. But I still remember every last fucking awful thing I did and said to you." On top of the excruciating pain he'd dealt, his words had been spiteful and hateful, designed to tear Squall apart.
Squall grimaced at the admission. With his friends it had been disturbingly easy to hide what had happened to him, but there was no hiding from the one other person who'd been in that room with him. It was so easy to recall the sneer to Seifer's lips, the disgust in poisonous green eyes. The arrogant voice that had sounded so much like usual.
You don't think you actually mean anything to me, do you? That I care what happens to you? Well surprise, surprise Puberty Boy, I don't give a shit if the next shock is the one that kills you.
Seifer had laughed at his confusion, taking the time to explain his amusement. That familiar face, leaning in for a closer study as he writhed in pain, the older boy's nose curled in distaste as if smelling something particularly unpleasant. Seifer had always known him so well. Much better than he'd ever felt comfortable with during their cadet days. He'd known just what to say to cut deep.
Nobody will even notice when you die in this shithole. I mean, who'd give a fuck, right? Sure, you make a decent enough punching bag, but that's all you've ever been good for. You should be fucking grateful I beat some of that weakness out of you.
Forcing down the old pain that surged forward at the memories, Squall didn't manage it quite as easily as usual. He felt Seifer's eyes on him, fearing the devastating effects of the man's words. Seifer had always had that power to lift him up or ruin him. Now was no different.
Seifer swallowed down the hurt Squall's pained silence instilled in him. He had to make Squall understand. "I can't blame you for believing the disgusting things I did or said. I treated you like shit at Garden, never gave you any reason to believe I wasn't capable of something like that. I never showed you I actually cared about you, that you were one of the few things that kept me going."
Frowning at the unlikely admission, Squall glanced sideways only to find a sincere gaze meeting him head-on. Seifer hadn't needed anyone back at Garden. Squall had been barely tolerated, for the sake of spars only. Seifer had complained often and convincingly about the perceived lack of quality he was getting from their spars, stating he would've transferred to G-Garden ages ago if it wasn't for the grudge the instructors held against him. Hearing those words over and over, he'd fooled himself into believing he felt the same way. In that moment it was hard not to believe them still.
At least Squall was looking at him now and for once Seifer was determined not to make this about himself. Like Ellone had said, they needed to talk to each other. He'd denied Fujin resolution for so long, only now understanding what it meant for her to talk things through. Even though Squall would heavily deny it, he knew Squall needed the same. "What was it like?" he asked softly, forcing himself to keep Squall's gaze even though he knew the answer would sting like hell. "To see me like that?"
Unsure what Seifer hoped to achieve with that terrible question, Squall felt a shimmer of resentment at the composed manner in which it was asked. He'd tried so hard to avoid tearing open old wounds, to give Seifer what he needed. "Don't ask me that," he pleaded, his headache gaining a sharp edge.
"I have to," Seifer said solemnly. "I'm not ever letting this shit sneak up on us again. It's the only way forward."
In that moment Squall understood why Seifer had lashed out at him back in Winhill when pressed. He got very close to hypocrisy but managed to swallow the harsher words. "You were there," he managed thickly. "You saw."
"And you know what it did to me," Seifer replied evenly, assaulted by the memory of desert sand lashing in his face, the ravine rushing closer and closer… He drew in a deep breath and steadied himself. "Was it… easy to believe her version of me?"
"No," Squall denied with a sharp shake of the head, not wanting Seifer to think he'd forsaken the man lightly. "It was incomprehensible."
"But?"
The gentle but relentless questions burrowed into Squall's memories, rendering them raw and fresh. "The way you looked at me… I thought I'd misread you. Misread us." His voice choked on the words. Despite everything, a part of him had clung to those rare but sincere grins. The times Seifer had lent him out of print copies of gunblade literature and had made subtle earmarks at the pages with Squall's favorite models. The nights ending with them lying side by side, sprawled on the ground and panting after a satisfying spar. D-District had turned all those moments into the delusions of a lonely mind. "I realized I was alone."
Gaze dropping to the ground, Seifer almost couldn't find it in him to continue. Somehow it was harder to know that Squall had grasped the connection between them. To know he had hurt Squall even more than he'd ever imagined. That he'd mattered to Squall and then had proceeded to string him to a wall. "And after D-District?"
Squall shook his head, as if he could deny the past that simply. After D-District, he'd been surrounded with more people than ever, yet he'd never felt so alone. So utterly unprepared for the war he was expected to win. "I tried to do what I could… I… I had to change. Become the commander everyone needed." His words pinched off after every sentence, sounding too much like excuses. "I didn't want to think about you anymore. I couldn't let myself—"
Wrapping an arm around Squall's back, Seifer pulled him close. "I know," he said lowly after a pregnant pause, giving Squall's shoulder a squeeze. "You were hurt. Badly." He absolutely hated how blind he'd been, how long it had taken him to finally see the truth. "I never understood how you could look so detached during our last fight… as if it didn't matter who you were fighting at all. But I get it now. It's how I dealt with my own shit too. Denied it all, refused to face it. That's why I left Fujin and Raijin's place. I couldn't face the constant reminders."
Ducking down his head, reminded of his own flight just that evening, Squall swallowed hard. Somehow Seifer was still talking to him, the man's body heat pressed close to his side. He couldn't bring himself to look at Seifer, afraid to see the lie in the man's expression when his words were so gentle. "Did it work?"
"Yeah, for the most part. There were still times when I couldn't forget," Seifer admitted. Nightmares, triggers, memories resurfacing; he'd never managed to fully leave his past behind however hard he'd tried. "I figured out ways to distract myself. Sex, work, drugs, whatever made those thoughts disappear."
Squall wasn't surprised by Seifer's reply. That was the impression he'd gotten, having seen glimpses of Seifer's life. His return is what had upset the man's careful balancing act. He'd brought his own unfinished business and demons right to Seifer's doorstep. He hadn't coped at all, but he'd found ways to keep ahead of his own past.
Seifer looked at Squall, tried to gauge the man's expression, but it was mostly obscured from view by the man's wild locks. "How did you get through?"
"Missions. A lot of them," Squall replied quietly, skirting the other crutch he'd relied on heavily.
Seifer nodded. Turned out they were far more similar than he'd ever imagined, but it was time for new habits. Better habits. They had each other now. "Next time," he spoke softly, drawing Squall's attention to him with another squeeze of his arm. "Don't run. Let me help."
Squall faltered, wanting to point out the man hadn't been in a very helping mood back in their tent, but he couldn't force the words past his lips when Seifer's arm was still wrapped tightly around his back. Seifer hadn't distanced himself or lashed out even once. No blame had ensued despite all the difficult topics. Used to Seifer's haunted gaze and harsh voice whenever the war came up, this was… different.
A brazen question rose to his lips, making him feel traitorous for even daring to ask it of Seifer. He hated the hope that surged in him even as he readied himself for disappointment. "Do you really forgive me?"
Determination rising at the softly spoken question, Seifer unwrapped his arm from Squall's form and pushed up from the cold rock. Squall looked up at him with a furrowed brow, but he simply lowered himself onto his knees and planted himself squarely in Squall's line of sight. He drank in the lines of Squall's face before seeking out deep grey-blue eyes, willing them not to look away.
"Yes," he said without hesitation, his gaze boring into Squall's. "Easily."
Something painful twinged and shifted inside Squall's chest at Seifer's unwavering reply. The old pain sat with him for another few stubborn seconds, but the open, expectant look on Seifer's face made it increasingly difficult to hold onto. If Seifer had truly let go, then what purpose was there in keeping these wounds alive?
He swallowed hard and raised a tentative hand to rest against Seifer's ribs, where his gunblade had once cut a deep gash. The rent flesh and the white of exposed bone in his nightmare still played in his mind's eye. During the real fight he'd never stopped long enough to assess the damage he'd done.
Aware one of his larger scars from the war snaked its way across his skin right where Squall had gently placed his hand, Seifer lifted one of his own hands to rest on top of Squall's. He would never hold the war against Squall ever again, but it was obvious Squall would still be struggling with this, with the harm he'd inflicted. Just like he would always struggle with D-District. That was the brutal reality of their past, but together they would work their way through it. Unable to stand Squall's sorrowful expression any longer, he surged forward and claimed Squall's lips.
Squall let himself be drawn in by the warmth of Seifer's mouth against his, thawing out any remaining resistance. He was overwhelmed by a confusing mess of feelings when Seifer squeezed his hand without even a hint of rebuke before the man's touch moved on to caress his cheek and card through his hair. His throat closed up as they kissed each other deeply, something huge welling up inside him, pressing against his chest like a dam reaching its breaking point. Moving down from the rock he'd been sitting on, he fell to his knees before Seifer and pulled the man to him as they kissed.
Seifer locked his arms around Squall, eagerly returning the sudden intensity Squall infused their kiss with. He could feel Squall's fingers gripping the back of his shirt, clinging to him, tugging him close. The sound and feel of Squall's soft gasps filled him with aching resolve.
Breathless, he kept kissing and touching Squall. All that existed was the man in his arms. The most amazing yet self-deprecating man he'd ever met. He brought a hand to the back of Squall's head, his fingers burying in thick, lush hair. Squall's hold on him tightened, the salty tang of tears joining the taste of Squall's kiss.
Seifer's chest constricted. He hated having brought Squall to this point. That he'd been so blind to Squall's plight. He poured all of his emotion into their kiss but it wasn't enough. Pulling back to rest his forehead against Squall's, he deeply inhaled the warmth of Squall's breath. He still couldn't believe that out of all the people on the fucking planet, he was the one who got to be close to this man. And until Squall got tired of him, he would stay by Squall's side. "I'm here for you. Always."
Squall shivered at the heated statement, its impact fluttering through his stomach as viscerally as any of Seifer's kisses. He should've feared the reckless abandon with which he drank in those words, but he was beyond any capacity for self-censure. His true desires ruled him as years worth of pain purged from him with involuntary aftershocks, pushing silent tears down his cheeks.
Mercifully, Seifer didn't comment, drawing him into another passionate kiss that drowned out the wild churning of his feelings or any shame he might've felt. He'd made so many mistakes, habitually hiding every defeat and disappointment behind a mask only Seifer had seen through. Only Seifer could make him feel safe even as he stood naked in a tempest. He held on tightly and kissed Seifer until he felt shaky and drained.
Pressing a few slow kisses to Squall's lips as the man calmed in his hold, Seifer savoured each and every one. This night had been necessary. He hated seeing Squall burdened by the past and would do everything in his power to stop it from ever reaching this point again. He placed a last kiss against Squall's cheek, then pulled back from their embrace. The vulnerable look that met him froze him into place. Squall's walls had been heavily fortified when he'd arrived at the clearing, but they were completely gone now. No more hiding.
He ran his thumb along Squall's cheekbone reverently, lingering for just a moment before pushing himself up to a stand.
Feeling his own exhaustion resurface, Squall took the hand held out to him and let himself be pulled to his feet. A small gesture neither of them had ever indulged in back at Garden lest it be misinterpreted as an insult or weakness. Now it came as easy as breathing.
Seifer gave him a smile, soft at the corners, sending his heart beating faster, before the man turned and led them back towards camp. Seifer's hand still didn't let go of his own. They left the moonlit clearing and stepped back into the forest with a quick junctioning to sharpen their sight and lift the darkness, but already the birds and woodland critters were stirring awake, the sky beginning to brighten slightly beyond the high treetops.
As they walked, leaves and branches rustling underfoot, he couldn't help but remember that long ago walk from the cliffs back to the orphanage, after Seifer had fallen from their cave down onto the rocks. They'd walked in darkness then as well, their one flashlight broken during Seifer's fall. Just like that terrible night Seifer had come back for him.
Just like then, he wasn't alone. Just like then, he hoped.
~ o ~
A/N: Lots of love to you all! Hope you are all safe ::heart::