Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy, or Squall, or Seifer, don't sue me!
Warnings: Yaoi , shounen-ai , ANGST
Syci: Please don't kill me! -Hides- I know i've been EXTREMELY LAZY, especially since i'm on maternity leave, but, but, well, I'm out of excuses, enjoy the chapter!
Squall ran his fingers over the handle on his coffee cup, leaning back on his couch. He had allowed Seifer his bed after he'd arrived, trying to prove his worthiness as a host. It had been two days since he had spoken with Kadowaki and Squall was exhausted. Not because of Seifer, the man hardly spoke or acknowledged anything in anyway.
His current state of exhaustion was due to his inability to sleep.
Sleeping and dreaming are the ways in which the heart speaks, and his had become rather loud and unforgiving since he took on Seifer.
He was terrified , relieved. He hated him, but he loved him.
He could not sleep.
His subconcious had already begun to ignore his concious paranoia and delve into what it could be like, if he just gave in, if he surrendered to his heart.
He had taken that temptation away from himself.
He made sure that when he slept he would not awake, alone in the same place as the man he loved.
Because there would be nothing to stop him then.
And thus his problem now. It was three in the morning. Having already had this problem for two days, he was beginning to fall into a routine. When he came home he drank coffee until the first few hours of the day, then he would go to his office and do all the paperwork he had to do that day. Then he would sleep in his office for as long as he deemed safe, and return to Seifer, rested, but not fully.
A sudden noise jarred Squall from his thoughts. He looked around his living room, finding nothing.
"Probably just the rain." He said quietly, standing and walking to the window. He watched as the rain slammed itself down on the concrete of the blacony. It had downpoured for six straight days now. The funeral for Raddins had been postponed until the weather cleared up.
He began to walk back to the couch when he heard it again. He placed his cup on the endtable and walked towards the noise. His hand came to rest on the doornob to Seifer's temporary room. Slowly he turned the handle and opened the door.
Seifer was walking down a black brick corridor. The horrible sense of deja vu was sending shivering tendrils up his spine.
It was almost silent. His boots tapping on the stone with each stride. He could almost hear a bell tolling in the distance.
He followed the lanturns through the maze of a dungeon. The end of the labyrinth leaving him at the top of a spiral staircase leading farther down into the shadowy depths.
As his foot hit the first stair, he knew instantly where he was, and he knew that he did not want to be here. His mind screamed at him, trying to get him to turn around, to leave, but his feet continued down, tapping, clicking, on the cold stone stairs. He tried to close his eyes as he came to the last bend because he didn't want to remember, he didn't want to see it again.
He walked into the room as it unfolded around him. He saw the jailcells.
Tears began to fall from pained eyes that would not close as they viewed the people, former friends, that lay shackled and broken in the cells.
There was Selphie, uncharacteristically silent, having slumped in her bonds. Irvine, barely two feet away from her in the same cell, straining against his shackles. Screaming and calling to her as he tried to get over to her.
Seifer continued down, turning his head away from the scene. His heart pounded in his chest as he continued down the line, passing similar cells with similar situations. His movements slowed as he came to the end.
He knew who's cell it was. He'd recognised the screams the moment he had hit the staircase.
He knew what was causing them.
Slowly his steps shortened and his body began to turn. Knowing full well what he would see, he tried once more to close his eyes, but they just became wider with fear and tears. They continued their violent streak down his cheeks as his eyes found the source of the screams, the same screams a whisper from past ghosts.
"Squall." He whispered
His hands closed around the iron bars as he saw a slightly younger Squall pant and bring tear filled eyes to ... Seifer. The younger Seifer. The Seifer that was slowly slicing a blade along Squall's chest, with malice burning in his eyes. Seifer fell to his knees against the bars as he watched himself slide a dagger through Squall's arm. Squall screamed in pain, thrashing as the muscles continued to tear, blood dripping down his arm from the wound. Seifer knew what would happen next, he mimed the words as the left the mouths of the speakers.
"Why are you doing this!" Squall groaned out.
His counterpart grinned and leaned in close.
"Because I can." He grabbed the dagger and twisted it harshly.
Squall shrieked and fell the short distance the shackles allowed , evidently passing out from pain.
Seifer found his hand coming to his mouth as he choked back a sob.He stood and backed himself into the other wall.
"Now do you understand?"
Seifer jumped and turned.
There was the girl, silver hair falling about her shoulders. Red eyes searching him curiously. She lifted a slim finger and pointed at his hands.
He followed her gaze and looked in sorrow as he watched blood drip from them onto the cold stone below.
"No, no! It wasn't me! I wouldn't... my thoughts weren't to hurt them, but I wasn't me, those weren't me thoughts, It wasn't me!"
"Then who was it?" She grabbed his hand and led him throught the iron bars as if they weren't even there. The other Seifer backhanded Squall across the face before ripping the blade from his flesh and leaving the cell. The girl watching him for a moment before walking up to Squall and placing a pale hand on the newly bruised cheek. She looked back to Seifer.
He could hardly move, or think, or anything. He was almost broken.
She lifted Squall's bloodied hand up with his own and they watched.
A single drop of blood simultaneosly left his and Squall's fingertips and contiued their fall to the floor.
"Who was it then." She asked looking at him as if he would hold the answers to life's questions.
A hand on his shoulder renched him from his past nightmare.
Hated it? Loved it? Supressing the urge to throw tomatoes? Whatever, just give me some feedback.
And I know that I TOTALLY SCREWED UP THE PLOT OF THE GAME. Seifer was dreaming of the Desert Prison by the way. But I DON'T CARE. -Flaunts Creative License-
Hope you enjoyed!
tbc