Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Living with Heart ❯ Living with Heart ( Chapter 17 )

Living with Heart

Act XVI

It was with a heavy heart that Squall scanned the compiled psyche evaluations. He could practically smell the fresh ink that was printed on crisp pages, the false dates of years past mocking him for being such a fool.

Tossing the files onto Cid's desk, Squall folded his hands in his lap. “So what led to my insatiable need for being fucked by older men? Was it my depression or my self destructive tendencies?”

“It was just another illness, a need to feel wanted,” Cid said with a rub to tired eyes. “I have a cabinet full of just as many signed evaluations and police reports from your arrests.”

“So, I wasn't even good at not getting caught?” Squall scoffed at the cover up. Nodding in understanding, he waited for whatever came next. There was little he could and nothing that would make things better.

Cid Kramer had years of experience under his belt. With so much time to set it all up, Squall was surprised that this was only now held over his head.

Staring blankly at the mahogany wood desk, an upgrade since the Headmaster's return, Squall continued to keep silent. He had nothing to say, not even a final word of protest. At the moment, his focus was on the burning ache in his chest. The letters in his jacket pocket felt as if the parchment were made of led, weighing heavily on his body.

“Your room is waiting for you,” the older man said after the silence became too much. “This does end you know, I didn't bring you back to start anything again.”

Squall stared. While it was some consolation to know things had changed, he was hardly grateful. Standing, he turned to leave.

“I am sorry Squall, even if you don't believe me.”

Ignoring the Headmaster's sincere words, Squall continued to walk from the office. It wasn't until the elevator doors dinged closed that he knew where he intended to go.

As much as he was prone to keeping his problems to himself, he felt compelled to seek out the one person who understood what was going on.

----------

“That little shit,” James cursed as he ended his search of Squall's rooms and concluded that the brunet was not there.

After sparring with the boy, it was very difficult to believe the room wouldn't have been torn up if someone had come in and taken the Balamb Lion. There were no signs of a struggle, nor were there any signs that anyone had entered or exited at all. There was only one door in and out, which he'd been stationed at. That meant Squall had left of his own accord.

The windows were an obvious escape, especially for a trained mercenary.

He couldn't help but repeat the mantra of one of the basic rules for becoming a guard, the voice of one prick of an instructor gruffly sounding in his head. `You don't have to like who you guard, but they have to like you. You can't protect someone who doesn't want you around.'

Squall Leonhart didn't exactly need his protection, but it was still his duty to give it. Following the boy outside of Esthar was not what he was supposed to do, but out of loyalty to the President, he felt obliged to go above and beyond expectations… even if that made him a damn babysitter.

With the possibility of about a four-hour head start, he wasted no time in making the necessary calls to try and track the President's son down. Tarners Platform was the first likely place he'd find Squall, or at least a leading reference to how far the kid had gotten.

Given the time frame of the visit from Quistis Trepe, the threat made involving the boy's return to Balamb Garden, and the phone call that seemed to have shaken Squall up, he'd be a fool not to know where the boy was going to end up.

---------

With determination in his hazel green eyes, Laguna stormed into Kiros' office with one purpose in mind. Hoping to make a forceful entry, he attempted to push the door open quickly, but wound up falling inward as it was opened from the inside at the same time.

“Whoa!” the President cried as he crashed into his lanky advisor, grateful that one of them wasn't a klutz and managed to steady them both.

“Laguna,” Kiros greeted with an odd mixture of concern and nervous edge.

Smiling sheepishly, the longhaired man straightened. “Sorry,” he apologized. The next moment however, his expression hardened to a near scowl. Remembering why he was there, he stated firmly, “I'm going to see Squall.”

Dark eyes stared at the determined man in dismay. “Lag-”

“No,” Laguna cut off. “I don't care what you say. It's been three days since I last saw him and I haven't slept a wink. I won't stay long, maybe just have breakfast with him.” Secretly he hoped to have a lot more than just breakfast, but he couldn't tell Kiros that for obvious reasons.

“Laguna,” Kiros tried once more, attempting to capture the President's attention before he listened a longwinded rant about how much the raven-haired man needed Squall and loved the boy oh so dearly.

Stopping just before the beginning of his lecture on why love was so important, Laguna gazed at his friend expectantly. Mouth parted, he felt inclined to listening after detecting a slight note of urgency. Closing his mouth, he turned and glanced at the open door. “Where were you heading?” he questioned, feeling rising alarm at Kiros' inability to quickly speak. Kiros never hesitated to find the right words.

“I was on my way to find you,” Kiros said at length. He silently cursed Squall for putting him in this situation. Worse yet was the possibility of what it all meant. The top possibility on his list was that the boy had left Laguna, which would surely break the kind man's heart and leave him to pick up the pieces.

“Well you found me,” Laguna pointed out.

“Squall's gone,” the dark skinned advisor all but blurted out. “Lieutenant Foler just called. The guard assigned as detail already left.”

“Left where?” Laguna questioned with rising panic.

“To look for Squall,” Kiros answered.

“How could this happen?”

Not wanting to express his views just yet, Kiros managed to keep the distain from his voice. “The boy's been trained. It's easy enough to leave when you have the codes to the gates and no one suspects anything.”

“He left on his own?” Disbelieving eyes stared at the tall advisor, not willing to believe a scenario that didn't involve Squall being dragged off in an unconscious state. It was odd how he felt no form of relief over the lack of force used.

“Yes,” Kiros stated firmly as if it were the only logical conclusion. “Laguna, I didn't want to say it, but this isn't exactly a surprise.”

“What do you mean?” the President bit out defensively, immediately assuming his friend was insulting his lover.

“Nothing,” the taller man copped out, unable to bash Squall for the obvious hurt it would do to Laguna.

“Do you have a problem with Squall?”

“Aside from the obvious issues?” Kiros questioned with a note of sarcasm.

“Yes, aside from the obvious issues. I'm not blind. I can see that you don't approve of my relationship with him.”

Shaking his head, Kiros refuted the accusation. “I'd never disapprove when it makes you happy, but it's hard to ignore what he is and what's going on right now.”

“Say what you mean,” Laguna ordered, his anger getting the best of him. It wasn't so much anger toward Kiros as it was anger at the new trouble that had arisen. Why couldn't things have gone smoothly for once?

Taking a calming breath, Kiros shook his head. Stepping back, he turned and made his way back to his desk. Now that Laguna was there, there was no point in leaving.

“Where's Ward?” Laguna asked. “He was the last one to see Squall, maybe he knows something.” Stalking over to his advisor's desk, he stood in a looming manner, forcing himself to be the focus of dark brown eyes.

Before Kiros could reply, a sharp knock came from the open doorway. Surprised, both men quickly shot looks toward the large man filling the entire doorframe. Ward gave a curt wave to the other two before entering.

“Squall?” Laguna questioned with panicked expectancy, as if the burly member of parliament could pull the boy out of his back pocket and declare it all some mistake.

Frowning, the ragged scar that traveled the side of his face contorting, Ward shook his head.

---------

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Seifer greeted with a smirk. As his eyes raked Squall's form up and down, the pleasantness he found was obvious.

Scowling, Squall assured, “I didn't come here for that.”

“Then enlighten me,” the blond said as he moved out of the way, beckoning for the younger man to enter.

“Cid called me back,” the brunet replied darkly.

Chuckling, Seifer stalked towards the kitchenette after relocking the automated door. “It's a sad day when Cid Kramer can outwit you. Either that old bastard is getting better or you're just no good once you've gone all soft and mushy.”

Glaring at the man's retreating back, Squall chose to ignore the implications in that statement. “False documents that basically say that I'm some street whore and mentally insane are keeping me here,” he informed with seething anger.

“Well, you are kind of a whore,” Seifer called out. “Though, I imagine it's an insult to say you worked on the streets.” Stepping back into view with a beer in both hands, he grinned in a manner that was both disarming and slightly comforting. “Your clients are certainly cleaner than most and a hell of a lot richer.”

Wanting to lash out at the blond, Squall fought to remain silent. Extending his hand for the beer, he snatched it from the offered hand and shot the taller man a harsh glare. “I don't know what to do,” he admitted grudgingly, his lips forced to form the words.

For a brief moment, jade green eyes stared in awed disbelief. Seifer failed to consider himself as being worthy of someone Squall would continually come to for help, regardless of all they'd been through together. The instance with Rinoa had been slightly different, a matter of needing an experienced knight, and he hadn't placed any stock in having a repeat of it.

“What does daddy dearest have to say?”

“…” Squall didn't want to think about how Laguna calculated into everything. He was at a loss just figuring out what to do with himself. He hated feeling lost, alone in the dark without a clue which direction would lead him to an exit. Worse yet was that for the first time, he'd thought things were going to be okay, that being with Laguna was going to work out.

“Oh fuck,” Seifer cursed. Twisting the cap off his bottle, he bent it in his strong grasp before walking around to the couch and tossing it onto the coffee table. “You didn't even tell that bumbling fool,” he stated without doubt.

“He's not a fool,” Squall spoke evenly. With a sigh, he uncapped his beer and took a swig. A small popping smack sounded as his lips left the opening, which was indicative of his current need for alcohol and not his usual quiet manner of consumption.

Joining the former knight on the plain red couch, Squall began to doubt his decision to seek Seifer out despite already feeling mildly better. It was just nice to have someone who knew everything that was going on. It wouldn't be nice if anyone else knew, but one person seemed to be the right number.

“What are the odds of me getting a quickie out of this?” Seifer questioned bluntly. He laughed at the kick directed his way, easily blocking the halfhearted attempt. “Hey, I have needs here too. Rinoa won't shut up about getting married. Just before you came knocking, she hung up on me after I said I wasn't having any demon children with her.”

“Give me a few more beers and I might consider it,” Squall mumbled, smirking slightly at the unintended insult. In all honesty, he'd never needed to be drunk to sleep with Seifer. However, aside from his utter lack of sex drive at the moment, he was quite certain that being in a committed relationship meant not sleeping around.

Groaning in complaint, Seifer leaned over the single cushion that separated them. Ruffling thick chestnut hair, he chastised, “How can I screw your tight little ass when you give me that?”

Knocking the offending hand away, Squall sought another large sip of his beer. It was dark beer, not his preference, but he wasn't complaining.

In silence, Seifer backed off and let the former Commander drown his sorrows for the time being. He wasn't really in the mood for anything that night, especially if it involved coercing a depressed Squall into it.

After nearly ten minutes of unbroken silence, Squall stood up with an empty bottle in hand. Intent on getting another, willing to reimburse Seifer later, he was surprised at the large hand that grabbed his wrist.

“Before you get wasted, would you rather spar?”

Shaking his head, Squall tugged at the loosened grip and walked away. Though he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't up for a good fight, he was in no mood to pick up his blade.

Remaining awkwardly still for several moments, Seifer stared at the vacant spot beside him. Squally-boy not wanting to put in a little training or even just swing that blade around to relieve some frustration had never happened before.

Solemnly, the blond stood. The situation seemed more serious than he'd initially thought. Casually following the same path the brunet had, he leaned against the doorframe to the small kitchen. “You're in love with that guy aren't you?” Though he suspected long ago that Squall was serious about President Loire, he'd never imagined the abused lion would fall in love so quickly.

Straightening up from the open fridge, Squall quirked a brow at the odd reference of Laguna being just some `guy'. “I'm just not in the mood to spar right now,” he replied coolly.

“That doesn't answer my question,” Seifer returned.

“Well it's a stupid question,” Squall shot back, feeling rather embarrassed at such a pathetic dodging technique.

Scoffing, Seifer just shook his head. “Get me another one too before you come out,” he requested before turning and walking back to the couch. His singles dorm room wasn't big, but it was good enough for him. A small kitchen, a little sitting area, a decent bedroom that fit more than just a narrow twin bed, and the greatest aspect was the personal bathroom. Making rank really paid off.

Squall grimaced at the tone the former knight used. Had he become so pathetic that even Seifer wouldn't stoop low enough to picking on him? Seifer found pleasure in making fun of ugly babies, which left him in a very sad category indeed.

Green eyes stared forward, even when the dark brown glass of his bottle was offered, held at the side of his resting head. Casting an upside down glance at the sulking brunet, he assured, “It's okay for guys like us to fall in love. Just because there are people like Rinny spouting off nonsense about it, that doesn't mean some of the shit ain't true.”

“There's nothing fairytale about it,” Squall mumbled, jostling the drink to make the blond take it.

Rolling his eyes, Seifer took the offering with a huff. “Of course there's nothing fairytale about it, he's your fucking dad for Hyne's sake. Still, all that love shit can be kind of real.”

“Kind of real?” Squall repeated with sarcastic disbelief.

“Look, I'm no poet about it, but it's like this… Rinoa is a real whining sap most of the time. Beyond her good looks, I haven't a damn clue why I put up with her. I can honestly say that it must be love.”

“You're her knight,” Squall pointed out simply, his voice oddly indifferent despite the curious nature in which his eyes studied the man spouting off advice.

“Not for the time I spent with her in Esthar. I wanted to wring her little neck most of the time, but I still wound up taking the plunge with her.”

Turning away, Squall thought about it. “It still wouldn't change anything,” he said after a few moments of consideration.

“If you really love the poor fool, then you gotta tell him about your past eventually.”

Shaking his head, Squall corrected, “He already knows everything.”

Seifer resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, too afraid that it would make him more like his stoic rival. Reaching out, he smacked an unsuspecting brunet upside the head.

Jerking away, Squall glared venomously. “Do you have a death wish?” he questioned darkly, not at all above inflicting sever damage in return of something as minor as a small smack of the head.

“You're a fucking idiot, you know that?” Seifer accused hotly. “You come here all moping and get me all concerned, and then you tell me that your fuck buddy father already knows everything.”

Frowning, Squall continued to glare without understanding what the problem was.

“Why the hell are you here?”

“…”

“You're unbelievable, you know that?” the blond said as he lurched forward and stood up. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Mildly offended at that point, Squall glared while trying to understand what Seifer was getting at. He was inclined to think that the older boy was just being an ass as usual, but that didn't seem to fit the seriousness in which the blond was taking the situation.

Pacing behind the couch, Seifer kindly clued the oblivious brunet in on a few common sense details. “You're here because Kramer has leverage on you. The only reason it's leverage is because he could threaten to let your latest boyfriend about it… if your boyfriend already knows, then why the hell are you even here?” He spoke slowly, purposely rubbing in that it was a very simple matter that was easy to comprehend.

Angry and resentful of being talked down to, Squall coldly glared while waiting for the ex-knight to finish his condescending speech. “Cid is threatening to tell Quistis and the others. This has nothing to do with Laguna, Cid doesn't even know about that.”

“And you came here just because your friends would find out?”

“…”

“I knew you never wanted them to know, but come on Squally-boy, this is just sad. Who cares if they know? You'll be all the way in Esthar.”

“You don't understand,” Squall hissed defensively. “They can't know.”

Shaking his head, Seifer tried to sympathize, but found he just couldn't put himself in the boy's shoes. “They're big kids now.”

“It's not about that,” Squall said, unable to express exactly why he felt so adamant about them never finding out. He'd promised himself long ago, when he first began to understand what was so wrong about it all, that he'd never let others find out.

After watching grey-blue eyes fall to stare at the floor, a hollowness in them that gave him a vague remembrance of a similar time before. “You're still this ashamed?” he questioned gently.

With a sardonic expression, Squall shifted in place to better look over the back of the couch. “What else am I supposed to be? Should I be proud about it?”

“No,” Seifer said with a nod of understanding. “But, at this rate, you'll always be that little boy who bawled in my arms when I finally wore you down and made you tell me everything.”

“I never cried,” Squall defended.

Chuckling, Seifer grinned at the edgy tone. “You wanted to,” he stated with unhidden amusement.

“But I never did.”

“True enough,” the blond conceded.

“I told Cid I'd never tell anyone, but I guess that makes me a fool for even trying.”

“Not a fool,” Seifer said. “Just desperate.”

With a nod of agreement, Squall locked onto the blond's intense green eyes. “I am in love with him… my own father.”

“It's completely fucked up, but it seems to suit you just fine,” Seifer said with unbiased humor. For a silent moment, the ex-knight steeled himself for what he was about to do. After that night, he was afraid he'd have to consider Squall more of a friend than a rival, which could seriously hurt his reputation. “If I do you a favor, then I get as many blowjobs as I want for the rest of my life.”

Scowling, Squall questioned, “And what sort of favor could you do?”

“I might just know a guy who knows a guy and so forth. If you give me a couple days, I might just be able to dig up a little dirt on Cid and some of your well to do customers.”

Surprised, Squall's face became a neutral mask while his eyes stared with a glint of hopefulness. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

“If I told you, I'd have to kill you.” With a wide grin, Seifer handed his beer off. “Drink up, I'll be back later.”

Awed and shocked, Squall remained motionless on the couch. Was Seifer serious?

“You can thank me later,” the blond said as he shrugged into his long grey trench coat. “I'm serious about those BJs. If I call you at one in the morning and you're in the middle of getting screwed by your old man, I expect you to come all the way back here just to go down on me.”

Lips parted as if to speak, Squall kept his silence and simply watched as his rival made a hasty exit. He didn't know what to think. If anyone could manage to obtain proof of anything, Seifer was probably the best candidate.

Considering he wouldn't be able to make a single phone call without being monitored within Garden, and that his friends were probably being watched as well, someone such as his rival didn't seem very likely to go around asking questions for his sake.

---------

Helpless in his aching worry, Laguna paced his office restlessly. While he understood that he couldn't go riding off on a white horse to try and bring Squall back, he would have done so if he weren't under surveillance.

At the thought shattering ring of the telephone, the President practically lunged across the room and onto his desk to answer it.

“Hello!” he spoke a bit loudly in his over zealous anxiousness. “Squall? Lieutenant?”

“Mr. President,” Lieutenant Foler greeted. “Garrison is currently outside of Balamb Garden. Eye witness reports place your son at the train station less than six hours ago.”

“Is he okay, is he safe?” Laguna asked quickly, his voice nearly cracking as he spoke with a lump in his throat. Tears threatened to come as his need to know what was going on and to have Squall safely in his arms became too much.

“As of yet, we remain uninformed on the circumstances of your son's presence in Balamb Garden. Garrison is capable and determined to resolve this quickly and quietly. I understand the need to bring the boy back without a hitch under the precarious suits with the adoption.”

Swallowing thickly, Laguna nodded his understanding before adding the necessary vocal reply. “Thank you Lieutenant. I await your next call. Please keep me informed of any changes.”

“Yes sir, Mr. President.”

Hanging the phone up, Laguna felt his legs go weak. Seeking the aid of his chair, he collapsed into the cushioned leather seat. Staring off blankly for several long moments, hazel green eyes eventually became blurred with unshed tears.

Foremost in his mind was Squall's safety. Yet, there was a nagging worry apart from his lover's well being. Kiros words had become progressively clearer the more he thought about it.

He never doubted his best friends over anything, which is why the assumptions Kiros was under hurt so much. To think that Squall had left because he was finished using him was the most painful scenario he could possibly imagine, apart from his lover's death.

He wanted to trust the boy, but facts couldn't be denied. Squall had left willingly. Not only that, but after so much talk about never wanting to return to Garden, that was exactly where the former Commander had gone. Back to Cid Kramer, back to where the poor boy had always gone after having relations with persons of political power and money.

Perhaps he was in the same boat as all those other perverted men, hopelessly in love with an untamable lion who had flawlessly pulled the veil over his love-struck eyes.

Slamming a fist down on his desk, Laguna grit his teeth at the idea that none of it had meant anything. The only person he could accept the truth from was Squall. He'd get Squall back and even if it turned out that it was all a lie, and he'd do his damnedest to keep the boy there. He couldn't let go, not ever.

There was a sick lurching his stomach as he realized he'd pay any amount or even relinquish his title as President. Squall was a dangerous creature of beauty and sensuality, ensnaring him so completely that he'd do anything to have him back.

-----------

“You're Leonhart's shadow, aren't you?” Seifer questioned evenly as he casually took a shot of whiskey.

“Where is he?” James questioned as he slid into place, sitting on a stool beside Ultimecia's former knight.

“I'm meeting someone here, I suggest you not scare them off if you intend to retrieve the President's only kid.”

“I'll decide what to do after you tell me what's going on,” the sandy blond guard returned after flagging the bartender. “I'll have what he's having,” he said with a nod to the young man of decent stature at his side.

Tutting, Seifer nudged his shot glass forward in request of another. “Drinking on the job,” he said disapprovingly. “No wonder Leonhart evaded you so easily.”

Waiting for the bartender to finish pouring their shots, James began to miss the quiet and the non-antagonistic nature of his dark haired charge. Though too silent, at least he didn't feel like wringing Squall's neck after only a few minutes of being in his presence.

Ignoring the ordered drink, not intending on actually consuming it, the older man gruffly questioned, “Where is he?”

“You followed me all the way to Deling City, obviously assuming I know something, yet you don't know where Leonhart is?”

“I have not seen him for myself,” the bodyguard stated simply.

“Nor will you,” Seifer assured with a grin. “He's not around here,” he explained with amusement.

“Don't play games boy. Whatever contact you're meeting can be easily scared away.” Finding that it would likely take far longer than expected, James lifted his shot and downed it easily. He couldn't risk appearing out of place.

“My contact involves a business that should prove beneficial to Loire's son, so I suggest you not fuck it up.” The blond knight's tone was both light and threatening, an odd mixture suggesting that the young man hardly needed harsh words to assure anyone of his seriousness.

“Is he at Balamb Garden? Is he safe? Tell me that much,” James insisted, knowing it was the President's greatest wish to have the boy back, but a close second was at least knowing Squall was safe and unharmed.

“He's probably drunk and killing my liquor stash, but aside from alcohol poisoning, he's right as rain.”

“What are you doing here? Who are you meeting? And how does it help Squall?” James questioned with a cool tone, rationally seeking information as if it were any other interrogation.

Scoffing at the older man's presumptuous tone, as if he'd automatically start spilling everything, he replied, “I'm drinking here and that's all you need to know.”

“If I'm not assured of whether you are a danger to my charge, make no mistake that I will blow your cover and not rest until my job is finished. There are other ways of finding what I need.”

Green eyes narrowing, Seifer dared a sidelong glance at the sandy blond man. With a broad form that would give Raijin a run for his money, dark eyes of near black stared resolutely at him. The world was filled with annoying pricks that wouldn't back down. While he could have waited all night, he was pressed for time and rather reluctant to not pull through for Squall.

“Buy me a beer, Dollet's dark brew, and then we'll talk,” Seifer ordered.

With waning patience, James once again flagged the bartender away from the growing crowd all along the bar. Most people were coming and going, two men sitting for a more permanent stay going unnoticed.

“Find a table for three,” Seifer said quietly once the beer had been delivered and the older man had set down the appropriate amount of gil. He felt confident that he didn't have to express the need for a secluded table, away from prying ears and bright light.

Alone again, it was some time later that a nervous hand tapped the ex-knight on the shoulder. Immediately Seifer turned, green eyes scanning the busy bar to place Squall's bodyguard before settling on his guest. With an assuring grin and firm nod, he said, “We have one extra for tonight. I don't know how much he knows, but he's on Squall's side.”

Nervously, rusty brown eyes glanced about, none too subtly searching for the so-called extra. “Do you trust him?” came the whispered question.

“In this matter, he's not going away either way. But, I trust him enough. He's working for President Loire, his name is James Garrison.” Standing, Seifer casually walked away and parted the crowd for his guest to follow.

Curious dark brown eyes watched at a portly person dressed in a long trench coat and bowler shaped hat approached, a face downcast and in shadow. It was quite apparent that the knight's supposed contact was not trained in subtlety.

Pushing the beer over to the edge of the small square table, James waited for the two to take their seats.

“I don't like the idea of speaking with total strangers,” a soft voice stated before a hand was offered in greeting.

Leaning forward, James clasped the hand, feeling the skin that was far from roughened like a soldiers. Getting a good look at the person's face for the first time, he was mildly surprised to find it a middle-aged woman whose eyes were painfully burdened with obvious knowledge.

“James Garrison,” the guard spoke in introduction, curiously casting a glance to the all-knowing blond knight.

“I'm Milla Kadowaki, resident doctor at Balamb Garden,” the woman stated quietly as she shifted to sit more comfortably.

“What is this about?” James questioned solemnly, staring into secretive green eyes, wondering just how much he didn't know.

“This, you persistent thorn in my side, is about blackmail,” Seifer said with a smirk as he directed his remark to the guard.

Nervous hands unbuttoned the suspiciously done up coat before reaching inside. Carefully, Dr. Kadowaki withdrew a manila envelope. “I thought I'd seen the end of it when I spoke with Mr. Seagill not that long ago. He never promised to do anything, but it was certainly implied.”

“Never assume anything,” Seifer chastised lightly.

Heaving a nervous sigh, the older woman admitted, “I shouldn't be so frightened of this. After all these years, being fired isn't much of a threat anymore. I originally only worried about being nearby to help him, but it never did any good.”

“He's perfectly fine,” Seifer assured with confidence.

Shaking her head, the doctor disagreed. “He's never been fine. That poor boy.” With a hand going to her mouth, she took calming breaths to fight back her overwhelming guilt of never taking an active hand sooner. “There are pictures and several DNA tests, but it's all just samples of unknown men. I can't prove the identities of his partners, except for Norg.”

Calmly, James ignored his utter confusion and decided to hear what he could before asking questions.

Once assured that he wouldn't be interrupted every two seconds by a confused guard, Seifer stated, “The Headmaster has these reports that peg him for a street whore. If we don't have proof of who he's been with, then your files will only support Kramer's.”

Scowling with silent fury, Kadowaki glanced at each face present. “I loathe that man to my very core,” she stated with pursed lips.

Considering the declaration of hatred did nothing to help, Seifer ignored it. “Do you have any friends, any colleagues that could evaluate Squall, maybe do some whacko hypnosis shit and prove what really happened?”

“Confessions under hypnosis wouldn't hold up in court, and I imagine Cid knows that,” Kadowaki commented.

Thoughtfully tapping his fingers on the worn wooden table, Seifer carefully examined the situations and sought different roads they might explore. Frowning, he scratched the back of his neck before speaking, “That time I went to Dollet for him, the staff of that house seemed to know exactly what was going on. There have to be witnesses that are keeping quiet.”

“We'd never find them,” Kadowaki stated with an air of desperation.

Not knowing the details, James input, “If you need proof and don't have any on past incidents, the most logical thing to do is set up another exchange and get it then.”

“Do you even know what we're talking about?” Seifer shot angrily, annoyed that the guard would interrupt without knowing everything. Worse yet was that it was a solid idea.

“I can wager a guess,” James said firmly, sickeningly suspicious of what they were talking about.

Shaking his head, Seifer silently vowed to use Squall's talented mouth every chance he got. This was almost more trouble than it'd be worth. If he didn't need his rival's pansy ass in top shape for sparring on occasion, he'd have ignored the younger man's plight.

TBC…