Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Living with Heart ❯ Living with Heart ( Chapter 9 )

Living with Heart

Act VIII

Squall sighed, lolling his forehead against he windowpane, feeling the pellets of rain drumming down against the glass.

“Has it begun?” Laguna questioned from across the room in concern, dropping the report in hand to stand and make his way to Squall's side.

A weak smile ghosted across Squall's lips. “No,” he lied, not wanting to cause unnecessary worry.

“Don't lie,” Laguna reprimanded. Slipping his arms around the young man, he drew the brunet against his chest.

Unable to maintain his composure, Squall broke down. Doubling over, kept from falling only because Laguna gently lowered him to the ground, he began to cry. It hurt so badly. He was overwhelmed with the hollow depression left within his heart.

“Shh,” Laguna soothed, “It's alright, I'm here.” Sitting on the ground, he drew the boy's curled form against him. Leaning against the wall near the window, he remained with Squall's body between his legs. The boy furled against his chest while delicate hands grasped at his light blue dress shirt for dear life.

“Don't leave me alone,” Squall pleaded, his voice sounding hoarse as his throat burned with the need to shed more tears. He couldn't even begin to try and stop the embarrassing act of sobbing like four year old when his heart hurt so badly. A vice gripped the beating organ, demanding that it cease it's perpetual pumping. There was a cold ache inside of his chest that seemed to be tearing about in the process of stripping him of every warm emotion and secure feeling he had.

Every good feeling he ever had was taken within moments, the onslaught hitting him all at once, just as Dr. Odine had warned. Despair was all he had left. He was alone again, surrounded by darkness just like after defeating Ultimecia. Only now, he didn't have his sorceress to come save him. He needed her. “Rinoa!” he cried out, calling for her to come back.

Laguna felt his own eyes prick with tears, his heart hurting each time the brunet called out for his ex-girlfriend. “This isn't what I wanted,” the President hissed against Squall's thick mop of hair, slowly rocking forward and back as he clutched to the young man in returned desperation. “Hyne, I didn't want you to suffer.”

The raven-haired man's declarations were for his own sake only, Squall being too consumed by despairing sadness to hear him.

Eventually, Squall wore himself out, shallow breathing signaling a fitful sleep. With great care, Laguna stood and managed to carry the young man the short distance to the bedroom, setting the unguarded form on the soft structure.

Making quick work of stepping out of his polished dress shoes, he then lost his belt before working on the brunet. The jumble of belts was absent, thankfully. He unlaced the SeeD's heavy boots, wincing as they clunked to the floor, making a ruckus that might wake the boy. All that was left was the questionable option of taking Squall's bulky black hoodie off. It looked comfortable enough, but the stark contrast against pale skin and the excess material made the former Commander look so fragile that he feared this battle of the knight's soul would shatter the beautiful youth.

He didn't bother with the covers, simply rounding the other side and gently crawling the width of the large bed. Once again, he drew the brunet's form to himself. Not feeling particularly sleepy, he placed a few kissed to the Squall's forehead and began to pet the boy's hair, a habit he'd formed when dozing in bed with the young man.

He prayed for the hours to pass quickly, hoping that in sleep Squall found relief. His hopes were dashed shortly though, as the boy started crying out, thrashing in fits.

--

In nightmares, the single most potent fear that Squall had was abandonment, being alone when he sought the warmth of a gentle touch, a chaste touch.

Memories surfaced in his mind. Being in the orphanage, wondering why his mother had left him, not quite understanding what death meant. Losing the only familiar person, realizing too late that he'd loved his sister. The constant confusion, never being given the answers he searched for about her disappearance. Being trucked off to Garden, taken from the familiar faces he'd come to know.

Cid had chosen him because of how he looked and how detached he seemed. He'd been a small child, generally seeming at least a year younger than he actually was.

He'd been nine when Cid had carted him away from the orphanage. On occasion, he'd return, never allowed to speak with the other children about where'd he'd gone. For a while, he'd only been exposed to Norg.

Cid Kramer, in a desperate act to keep Balamb Garden open for the sake of his beloved wife had catered to the Shumi's every whim. Norg had a particular fetish for the young, and Cid just so happened to have a wife who ran an orphanage.

Squall was perfect for the job. Aside from appealing to the greedy and disgusting creature that had once been an honorable member of the Shumi tribe, Squall rarely talked and that meant no one would find out.

For the first several years, Cid had been beyond remorseful, never able to meet his eyes. As time passed and Norg's attachments grew, the voyeurism and minimal fondling turned into quite a bit more.

Squall had been fourteen when it first happened. Norg had been upset about all the left over kids from the orphanage coming to Garden, accusing him of liking to spend time with them more than the rich and powerful Shumi. In anger, and probably repressed desires, Norg had taken him. It had been a rape that was sheer torture for a virgin Squall, never able to look in the mirror again for years without shuttering at his own weakness. In part, that loathe for weakness had made him the fighter that defeated Ultimecia.

Cid had been horrified, stumbling in at the most inopportune moment after it had already happened. Squall had been roughly handled, needing Kadowaki's attentive care for an entire week before being able to leave the bed.

The resident doctor had certainly been furious, frightening Squall with the level of hate in her voice when speaking to the Headmaster. Suffice to say, he'd never been allowed to see Norg in private again. But, he'd still been sent back.

Somehow, his warped dealings with Norg made him qualified to attend the fetishes of others. It just sort of became an entire maelstrom of being controlled and used. Time apparently healed Cid's wounds of guilt, the man beginning to solicit him to any official he thought might enjoy his special services.

Being a common whore was nowhere in the SeeD contract he'd signed, nor was it mandated as a required course as a cadet. But, Squall found that his life gave him a unique disposition, that at least it couldn't have gotten any worse. Not many SeeD could remind themselves of that and truly feel comforted by its truth.

The one thing that had kept him from simply jumping off the nearest balcony had been his rivalry with Seifer. There was an entire meaning to their relationship that no one knew about. The arrogant blonde had eventually pried into his past, managing to piece a few things together before confronting him and making him talk.

It had been the talking that had given him relief. At heart, he and Seifer were possibly the closest of friends. Seifer was ruthless at times, understanding just how tough life could be. The sex between them was nice, and oddly comforting. He was never forced to do it. Seifer was the only person he'd slept with voluntarily, initially doing it for that exact reason and continuing to do it because it felt good.

Squall's life had been about pleasing others, in every way, shape, and form. He'd been conditioned to do what he was told. However, the war had given him a sweet taste of doing what he wanted, not answering to any one and not having to resort to prostitution to bargain. Instead, he'd been able to flex his skills, developing what had begun as a very weak fighter's soul.

To go back to the way things had been before the war was terrifying. Squall didn't want to be sociable, or friendly, or a fucking slut. He wanted silence and the chance to prove that he was best placed in the field, not the bedroom.

Above all else, being alone made him tremble. Being alone with the hollow feeling that everyone has disappeared and wouldn't ever come back. He feared this more than his fourteen year old self feared Norg.

It was a weakness, one he'd never admit to. If he saw everyone walking away, he'd press his lips firmly together and keep his silence. Given the general pattern of loss in his life, he always assumed it would continue. Keeping people far away meant that when they finally left, he wouldn't fall apart. He didn't need anyone. He didn't depend on anyone. He was self sufficient, capable of carrying out every order given without question or help.

But the war turned everything around. He was given the wonderful reprieve of forgetting everything. By the time he became Rinoa's knight, he knew nothing of his time with Norg and nothing of the majority of people he'd slept with. Being the Commander hadn't been fun, but Cid had been nowhere in sight and he'd been in a position to take orders from no one.

Losing his rank and realizing everything might go back to the way it had been wasn't unbearable. What was unbearable, especially after losing his sorceress, was that all his memories came back.

--

There was silence and warmth. Slowly, Squall opened his eyes. Foggy grey-blue orbs searched for focus. It took the brunet a moment to remember what had happened and realize where he was.

It was warm because he was held closely to Laguna. The silence was only a quiet room. There was the lulling sound of rain, still pouring down in torrents. The winds had shifted, no longer angled against the pane. The dim light and shadows made him wonder what time it was. Last he knew, it had been morning, another storm system settling over their area.

Once his mind felt oriented, he reminded himself that everything was in the past, only brought to surface because the knight within him was trying to prevent the loss of his sorceress, making it seem like he needed her.

The fresh memories continued to wash over him. He hadn't been able to remember most of it for the longest time. He'd completely forgotten about Norg. It had been a merciful benefit of Guardian Forces.

He could clearly recall every unwanted touch and caress given by Norg's long spider like fingers, every stomach-churning gaze the elder Shumi gave his small body. He remembered the petrifying fear of realizing Norg was displeased that he'd talked to Quistis and Seifer on their first day in Garden. He remembered the blinding pain as he was split brutally, torn by the purse holder's inhuman sex organ.

He distinctly remembered the shame he felt when Cid found him. The look in the Headmaster's eyes, horrified at what had happened. He'd lain motionless on the cold metal floor of Garden's under level, whimpering in pain before Norg's high throne like chair. He recalled that for some time after he did nothing but replay the day through his mind.

It had been a solid week before he'd been forced to speak again, his absolute silence not tolerated. It had been alright for a while, Cid or someone else always accompanying him to see Norg. He never quite understood what had happened, not until a year or so later.

Now, he shivered in disgust. He wished to have Shiva back, more so now than ever before. He knew his mind was full of unwanted memories, memories that his loving Guardian had taken from him and locked away. It had been a constant worry that they'd come rushing back all at once, but he'd managed to forget even about the thought of his memories coming back.

Two weeks at the Loire Estate and he wasn't sure he could even spell his name correctly. He wasn't a knight anymore, Seifer taking his place. The blonde had been right, Rinoa was a different woman around him. He was involved with his father, pathetically repeating past mistakes of forming attachments. And he couldn't get images of Norg out of his mind.

Perhaps he could blame everything on losing his sorceress. But, he'd only have to explain his actions if he returned to Balamb. At that moment, with everything bottled up inside of him, he wanted nothing more than to stay with Laguna in Esthar for the next fifty years.

Taking a few steady breaths, he ground himself with the present. He felt the body heat given off by the President and the solid feel of arms around him. Regardless of the heavy weight in his chest and the unwanted images of his younger years, he felt oddly at peace. Burrowing his face in the crook of his father's neck, he instinctively sought out that warmth and presence of another person.

He hadn't expected to enjoy being with Laguna as much as he did. He figured the sex would be good, and it had been. But, to find himself endeared by the man's goofball behavior, even laughing at moments when the President would say something entirely ridiculous, had been surprising.

“Hey,” Laguna murmured, shifting back to better look at the brunet. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine,” Squall assured, not letting the older man move away, following the movement to press closely

Laguna chuckled, conceding to the boy's want and tightening his hold and raking his fingers through silky strands of chestnut hair. “Do you need anything? Food, water, the bathroom?”

Squall frowned at his apparent reliance upon the older man. He wondered when he'd become so attached. It would be over soon, wouldn't it? Yet, Laguna didn't seem to tire of him. In fact, if anything, the longhaired President seemed to regard him with higher esteem and longing. “Just you,” he whispered softly, attributing his dependence to his current state.

Swallowing thickly, Laguna forcibly refrained from squeezing the younger man too tightly. He'd known it from the first night and every moment thereafter. He was in love with Squall, hopelessly in love.

Like Squall, he'd disregarded their blood relation. He doubted he'd overcome completely, not seeing it plausible that he'd magically forget, but he was able to ignore. It was hard to dwell on how wrong their relationship was when every sense told him it was good. Going against the social order seemed to be going along with his human nature, doing what felt good even if the rest of the world would shake a finger at it.

Only time would tell what would happen to them. Laguna had the distinct impression that Squall was holding back, a small part of the young man never giving in to the desire to be with him. It was with great satisfaction that he felt a change in that attitude. Even with each passing hour, he thought he saw those stormy blue eyes gaze into his with reflected love. And with the blonde SeeD's threat, he was assured there was definitely something stirring within his lover.

Squall soaked it all up. He was addicted to the tender care Laguna always gave him. It was the sort of spoiled treatment he found to be foreign. Even after he explained to the man that he greatly enjoyed the sex, pain and all, the President continuously fretted over his condition each time. The man was both kindhearted and stern, strong yet susceptible.

For Squall, the older man was a colossal oxymoron, and it was something he'd come to appreciate.

The former Commander's attachment was growing, already enough to qualify as dangerous. He needed to push away, distance himself. He felt insulted that this man just walked into his life and managed to become close to him in such a short amount of time. Seventeen years without any serious attachments and it only took Laguna fourteen days.

As Squall continued to press close, finding that he was unable to pull away even when he told himself it was for the best, he became angry over his weakness. If he were to keep from losing his mind, he'd need to junction Shiva again. He needed to forget. It was his only way to cope. Forgetting about his time with Laguna would be the only way he'd be able to go back to Balamb, which he'd have to do soon.

The possibility of not returning still held a gut wrenching fear for him. A life without Garden was a life cast in shadow, he didn't know what it would hold. He wanted to be a fighter, a mercenary. But Seifer was right, Cid wouldn't keep him in the field.

News of Rinoa and Seifer would be breaking soon. Squall felt on the verge of losing his sanity, possibly another side effect of Rinoa leaving, or just everything coming at him at once.

The new pair would be returning to Balamb, they might even have already made it. Cid would be phoning. The worst part about it all was that Squall felt hesitant to even mention that he had successfully won Laguna's favor. It was the reason he'd been sent there, but as the man held him and stroked his hair, he began to doubt his ability to follow orders.

For longest time, Squall remained thusly in Laguna's arms. It was a whole different experience, a side to a relationship he'd never really enjoyed before. Laguna was the only one he found himself doing it with. Doing something for himself as a change of pace.

It wasn't all about the happiness and contentment of his partner. The motorcycle may have been enjoyable for Laguna, but it had certainly been meant for his own pleasure. Now, as the older man stayed with him, doing everything he wanted, he began to wonder if he'd ever have this again. Would anyone ever hold him like this? Would anyone care if he'd been handled too roughly during sex? Would anyone care at all?

“You care about me,” Squall mumbled quietly against the man's light blue shirt.

Laguna couldn't deny it anymore. He'd sensed that Squall was wary, something within the brunet that shied from becoming too involved. And, it honestly seemed ridiculous to feel so strongly after so little time had passed and still not knowing much about the boy.

“I'm in love with you Squall,” Laguna stated solemnly. Fatherhood be damned, he was in love with the young SeeD.

“No,” Squall whispered in dismay. Struggling to break away, Squall quickly removed himself from the bed.

“Squall!” Laguna shouted in alarm, stiffly scrambling to follow. He'd been lying in one position too long, his age catching up with him

“I need to be alone,” Squall said, scouring the floor before spotting his boots. After grabbing them, he didn't bother putting them or looking back. Once he was out the door, he began running, not even registering that his guard followed.

Laguna would be damned if he was letting Squall just run off like that. “Thomas,” he said to the second guard outside the door.

“Sir,” the tall bodyguard replied.

“Tell James not to let him leave the estate,” Laguna ordered before running off to catch up. This was almost picturesque of what Seifer had warned him about. Declaring his affections only to have Squall literally run away. Maybe it was too much. After such a short time together, the brunet might think him insane for being so serious.

The blonde's other cautionary words echoed in the President's head. He had to follow, not let something like this turn him away.

The moment Squall felt the rain against his skin, he was reminded of why it was actually best not to care. The memories of being left behind were all too fresh, overwhelming him once more as when first struck by his loss of Rinoa. Odine said it might take days, sporadically hitting when he was weakest, driving him to true desperation for his sorceress.

He should have stomped the need for love out of himself long ago, hating the pain it caused him now. He wanted more than anything to be back in Laguna's arms, but he wouldn't do it. His longing for it was a big enough weakness.

It was because of his dependence on others that he felt so hollow, so cold.

Near the top of the long stoop of stairs, the area he'd first wandered to on his first day there, he fell to his knees, oblivious to both the rain and the futile attempts by his guard to bring him back inside.

Balling his fists, he angrily hit the hard stone, furiously punching the unforgiving slab of solid rock as if it had been the cause of his predicament. He felt like he was losing his mind. His priorities were so blurred, he scarcely knew if returning to Balamb or staying with Laguna was more important. He needed to leave, but he couldn't. Was it duty that compelled him to return home or fear of a life unknown?

The damn bastard of a goofball had managed to needle inside of his heart, wrapping it in thorns so that leaving would mean tearing it out.

“Squall!” Laguna cried, nearly sliding past the glass doorway while running in his socks across the polished marble flooring.

With an icy glare, Squall stared over his shoulder at the man accusingly. “This isn't how it's supposed to be,” he spat.

“James, would you please wait inside,” Laguna requested, unable to figure a way of talking without mentioning what was between them.

Reluctant to comply, James was obligated. The sandy blonde guard joined the President's detail Thomas, leaving the door open just in case.

“Squall,” Laguna said firmly, stepping closer, “Don't run away from me, from us.”

“There is no us!” Squall shouted, feeling the tearing of the sharp thorns as he steeled himself for what was to come. It was inevitable.

Hurt by the brunet's words, Laguna stilled. He stared at the damp haired boy, uncaring about his own state within the pouring rain. Figuring all along that Squall had trust issues, never easily opening up, let alone exposing his heart, Laguna assured, “I love you, but that's only how I feel. I don't need you to return anything to me. Give me time to win you over.”

“No,” Squall muttered, shaking his head, hating how sweet and assuring the offer was. Swallowing back a wave of tears, he was unable to distinguish between what might have been his dying knighthood calling for Rinoa or his heart wrenching over breaking everything off with Laguna. “It was just sex,” he stated, “That's what I do.”

Hazel green eyes narrowed. “What do you do?”

“I seduced you,” Squall said, “I didn't mean to, but it happened. I wanted your favor, for you to deal exclusively with Balamb Garden. It was always about you being the President of Esthar.”

“That's not true,” Laguna declared as if an order.

“It is,” Squall said, turning his head away, staring off blankly. Chuckling at the irony of this game he'd been taught to play so well backfiring, he prayed to Hyne that he might receive his Guardian Force at that moment. The jostling movement of his forlorn laughter acted like a gateway, his chest instead shaking with sobs. “Love me now!” he challenged to the older man.

“Hyne, let me forget!” the brunet shouted angrily, wanting to go back to his old self, the man that didn't care or feel. “Shiva!” he begged, continuing to sob.

All at once, the winds whipped about, the temperature dropping.

In disbelief, Squall stood up and gazed at the familiar Ice Queen he'd known for so long.

Shiva's dark blue lips smiled kindly at the pale boy. As the rain turned to snow, she extended a hand, gently caressing the young SeeD's cheek. “Little one,” she greeted.

“You came,” Squall said, relief flooding him.

“Yes,” the otherworldly Guardian agreed.

Squall knew she would lock his memories away, each and every moment he wanted to forget. Every instance when Cid sent him out, his time with Norg, and above all else, his time with Laguna.

With a regretful look towards the longhaired President, he took a brief moment to say goodbye, knowing that the former soldier deserved so much better.

“I'm sorry,” Squall said sincerely, “It wasn't supposed to turn out this way.”

“What way was it supposed to turn out Squall?” Laguna asked angrily. “Why have you summoned your GF?”

Squall shook his head. “I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you, and you were supposed to get bored,” he admitted. “I'll leave, within the hour.”

Alarmed, Laguna cried, “You can't leave!” Reaching out, he tried to take hold of the brunet, but Squall stepped back. “I don't care about what started it,” he assured, “I still feel the same way, don't leave.”

“I'm a coward Laguna,” Squall explained, “You deserve so much better than someone like me.”

“Wait,” Laguna said desperately, “What are you doing?” he watched with growing trepidation as the boy stepped closer to the Ice Queen herself, her presence still unexplained.

“I'm forgetting everything,” Squall admitted with shame. “I won't remember our time together,” he added gently, selfishly taking the easier way out, not caring about Laguna.

Laguna felt the air stolen from his lungs, watching in horror as the GF disappeared, knowing the Ice Queen had been junctioned.

TBC…