I awoke, cold and confused.

When I first opened my eyes, I was greeted by the harsh sights of chrome and tacky, 80s styled drapes and seat cushions. The couch I was laying on was obviously not made for comfort, and I was pretty sure that my neck would never be the same after my nap. A soap opera in Spanish was playing softly on the old TV in the corner, where a tired looking woman sat drinking coffee and staring off into nowhere.

It took me a moment to recognize where I was, and the moment I did I felt a sickness in the pit of my stomach. I was in a hospital waiting room.

The memories of earlier flooded back to me in a flash, the intensity of the moment I saw Cloud on the ice -

I had to stop there as I choked on my own spit. I remembered what happened, there was no need to torture myself when I didn't know where Cloud was or what had really happened at the skating rink. I spared a glance at the woman sitting near me, who seemed to be in the same condition as I was. Worried, alone, and afraid. I quickly wondered who she was waiting for. A sister, a cousin....a husband.

I suddenly realized that I couldn't sit here anymore. I had already foolishly wasted time by sleeping, an unsuccessful attempted at curing the throbbing I felt behind my eyes. I stood up quickly, which startled the woman who in turn got up to pace the room, and thrust open the glass doors until I walked blindly around the hospital area. I looked for anyone I felt I could talk to, anyone that seemed as if they would be willing to help me. I eventually settled for a counter with a remotely unstressed looking woman typing absentmindedly slouching behind it.

I hastily gathered my composure and approached the counter, attracting the woman's attention. She sighed and looked up at me, the circles under her eyes crying for peace to finally get rest. "May I help you, sir? Do you need the remote to the television?"

Why this woman could even fathom that crappy daytime television was on my mind right now I don't know, but I inhaled calmly and shook my head. "No, ma'am, I was actually wondering if you could tell me where someone I need to visit is located? He came in here earlier today, his name is Cloud Strife."

The woman tapped a few things into the computer, much too slowly for my impatience at the current situation, until she finally seemed to come upon the correct room assignment. "Cloud Strife, room 237B. He's on the second floor. Unfortunately, Mr. Strife is in critical condition at the moment and is on a strict family based visitor schedule. What relation are you to Mr. Strife?"

"What kind of idiotic rule is that? Of course I should be able to see Cloud, I'm his -"

I stopped. Fuck.

The scenario ran through my head. "Of course, ma'am, I'm his gay lover. Please lead me to his room now."

I closed my eyes. "...Never mind. Please, just....let me know when I can see him."

My heart was aching, the pain resonating through my whole body. Why did such a rule even exist? Cloud is my family. He's my life, my everything...

I think my life constitutes as a family member.

Not only that, but Hollow Bastion doesn't promote or allow gay marriage. What if something like this were to happen again? I had no idea where Cloud was, what kind of condition he was in, whether he was alive or dead...

I almost collapsed as I made my way back to the waiting room. Disoriented, I sat again in the indentation I had made in the plastic seat cover, sinking down until I didn't have to support myself anymore. Until I didn't have to feel or think or concentrate.

The tears welled over of their own accord, streaming down my face in unholy amounts. I tasted the salt and moisture, not really caring that I was sitting in a room that was now full or a few more people sitting with the woman who was pacing just a few minutes before. None of them even seemed to have the slightest interest in me, save for one who watched my entire pathetic progression of metamorphosis into a lifeless lump.

I cried until the moisture finally stopped itself. My eyes couldn't take losing anymore fluids, so I just slumped in my plastic seat. Waiting.

I was just about completely out of my state of consciousness when the man who had been staring at me before sat down quietly in the seat next to me, almost completely silent expect for the squeak of the cheap plastic. It was enough to grab my attention, but the only movement I made to acknowledge his presence was to turn my head slightly to glance in his direction. He was a solemn looking man. Not really upset, but not happy by any means. He just seemed to be there, going through the motions of life. His choppy, silver hair flashed lightly in the fluorescence as he shifted to look at me.

"Hello," He said casually.

It struck me as odd that he started the conversation so normally when we were all obviously not in a normal situation. He didn't seemed phased by the situation of a grown man weeping as he cleared his throat and began again after I failed to answer.

"My name is Zexion. I hope you don't mind my introducing myself." He gracefully turned and held his hand out, an obvious invitation for me to shake it. I contemplated shrugging him off again, but then realized that anything that could possibly get my mind off my current situation couldn't really be a negative thing.

I propped myself up straighter, taking his hand in a firm grip. "Nice to meet you, Zexion. I'm Squall." The whole interaction was rather awkward, but at the time I couldn't have cared less. He smiled by pulling the corners of his mouth slightly upward, his eyes still sullen.

"It's my pleasure." He paused before casually starting his intended conversation, which I could have assumed from the start. "May I ask why you're here?" It was a simple question, and I knew he wouldn't have minded whether I told him or not.

Something about the way he sat, the look behind his grey eyes, and the strength I felt in his grip reminded me of Cloud. I answered slowly.

"My...friend is currently in ICU, being treated for something that I'm not quite sure of yet." I exhaled, trying to be as politically correct with my word choice as possible.

"Something about your aura at the present tells me that this person is more to you than just a friend." I looked at Zexion, surprised by his blatant comment. I sighed, realizing that caring about the thoughts of a complete stranger were ridiculous given the situation. "...You're right, actually. He's my lover."

Zexion just nodded. "I see. I'm very sorry." I watched him speak, his facial expression remaining the same. But something about how he said it made me realize that he wasn't tossing bullshit at me to make me feel better. He really meant it. So I figured it was my turn to ask. 'What about you?"

"My sister is currently in labor with twins."

His answer took me by surprise. His lack of excitement was confusing. "Is that...a bad thing?" He shook his head, his eyebrows creasing slightly. "No...I just figured that...well, being happy in a place that's causing many people so much pain seems a little odd, doesn't it?"

I had never really thought of it in that context. The same place that took many lives away from families and friends also gave life. The destroyer is the creator, The Shiva is the Brahman. It didn't seems to connect in my head.

"Well, thank you, but congratulations on your sister's labor." I attempted a smile. He remained sullen.

"I lost a lover in this hospital, four years ago."

My smile dropped. That sick feeling I had felt the moment I had woken up returned.

"...I'm very sorry..." It was all I could think of to say. As soon as he said it my worst fears seemed to come true in my mind.

"I'm not letting you know this to worry you or make you concerned for your lover's well being. I'm sure he's doing very well. I lost my partner to a disease that we knew was coming, for a very long time. As soon as he was diagnosed we were told he didn't have long to live, a few months maybe. I'm sharing this with you because I want you to know that I understand your pain. The pain of not being considered family enough to be with your loved one in their time of pain. I wasn't allowed in the room when he died. He died alone, none of his family in the area to be with him in time."

I stared in disbelief at Zexion's composure as he spilled his story to me, a complete stranger. Although his story was horrific and awful, I felt a sort of comfort coming from his smooth tone. He understood. The first one to understand, ever.

Before I realized what I was doing, I grabbed Zexion around his small shoulders and pulled him against me, hugging him.

"Thank you." I whispered. Finally, someone had understood.