Archive of Our Own

Time was inconsequential here.

At some point Squall had fallen asleep, or lost consciousness; he couldn't be sure. He had opened his eyes to discover that he was sitting, his folded arms resting on one knee and pillowing his head, with no recollection of ever settling down in that position. Straightening up slowly while rubbing his stiff neck, he was puzzled to find himself in a vast wind-swept desert blanketed by a tempestuous grey sky. At first he had been relieved, thinking he had somehow gotten out and landed, of all places, somewhere in the Kashkabald desert. However, a second look around him had instantly quashed any hope that this was his world, or that anything alive belonged here at all, for that matter.

The sky and the ground were unnaturally blurry and indistinct on the horizon, merging and melting into one another continuously. The clouds were swirling and billowing violently everywhere above him, so fast that they appeared liquid. A bone-dry breeze blew gusts of fine sand in lazy dust devils that irritated Squall's eyes, coated his tongue and made him cough constantly. As far as he could see, the desert was entirely flat and featureless. He'd tried locating the position of the sun, to form some sort of plan to move forward, but never could find it. The clouds were too thick and flowing too wildly; and the level of light among them appeared equal everywhere he looked.

Standing up and giving his surroundings a last careful look, he sighed heavily, picked a direction...

...And started walking.

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The parched earth crunched under his boots, the only sound except for the moaning of the searing wind. There was something he thought he kept hearing in it; a laughter. Ultimecia's laughter. High-pitched, deranged and maniacal, always just far enough away to be nearly indecipherable, and never clear enough for him to be sure. It made him constantly on edge and almost paranoid that maybe, just maybe, she was still not dead, but tracking and watching him, always just outside of his field of view. Waiting for a second of inattention.

(There's no way. She had all the opportunities when I was out earlier. There's just no way. Unless... she's got another motive and needs me alive? No, no. I saw her. With Matron, she... she definitely died then.)

He stopped walking and really strained to listen, to prove to himself that it was not what it seemed, merely a trick of the wind. Or his mind.

The latter possibility did little to alleviate his anxiety.

There it was again. Still frustratingly unclear. With a short exhale of annoyance, Squall resumed walking.

The wind blew, the clouds swelled and shrank and spiralled endlessly.

Squall was loath to admit that he had been somewhat hopeful still. He had escaped the dark empty void somehow, and this place had seemed like an improvement at first. But as he walked and walked, his face hurting, his eyes watering, his throat raw and his leg muscles cramping, without any hint of a landmark or change in the environment, a deep despair slowly consumed him. He could not guess how much time had passed, was half-convinced it could not even exist in this place.

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That muted laughter, unnerving, screeching, riding on the tails of wind gusts.

He felt so entirely numb and hollow, he was unsure why he even kept on walking. He noticed with disinterest that he didn't even remember where he was trying to go, and something about that should have upset him, but he couldn't find it in him to care. Still, he kept walking. It was better than doing nothing, he supposed. He hated doing nothing.

(Have to go... home? Home. Yes, that's it.)

He stopped, wobbling for a moment before he coughed and spat a glob of brownish thick saliva on the ground. His ribs hurt and he wheezed every time he took a moderately deep breath, but he started walking again nonetheless.

(Where is home? Is Balamb Garden home? The orphanage?)

(Rinoa...?)

He tripped on his own feet, caught himself just before he fell.

He had the distinct impression now that wind laughed and the sky mocked him. The heat was unrelenting, unbearable, making his clothes stick uncomfortably to his skin. Sweat poured from his forehead and stung his eyes, his damp hair stuck on his cheeks and temples. He was so tired, and so unbelievably thirsty.

Removing his jacket and gloves, he discarded them without a second thought behind him, afraid that if he stopped walking now he wouldn't be able to ever start again afterwards. Next he dropped his utility and bullet cartridge belt, both empty, heavy and useless. It helped, a little bit. He put a hand on the handle of his gunblade, its weight cumbersome as always, but comforting, as always.

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The light was too bright, and he wondered if it was stronger than it had been before. Were there even nights and days in this place? He was cut off his musings when he stumbled once more, light-headed, dizzy, suddenly nauseous. He barely caught himself again, walked on, swallowing back bile.

Slowly, one step at a time, one foot in front of the other.

(Not a desert... a deserted place. Not a desert, a deserted place. Not a desert...)

(Dying of exposure at the end of time.)

He laughed, the sound harsh and a little unhinged, his pale lips cracking and burning.

The horizon, far in front of him, always so indistinct and hazy. He took one step forward, it took one step back, scorning him. He wondered somewhat indifferently if he had even moved at all since he'd woken up here.

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Arms dangling at his sides, head lolling in exhaustion, Squall could barely advance anymore. His eyelids were fluttering, focusing with great difficulty on the tips on his boots. Left... right... left... right... He staggered and faltered, spending most of his dwindling energy simply staying upright instead of actually moving forward. Stuck in a strange daze halfway between consciousness and sleep, his mind was slipping, his body somehow still on autopilot. His fingers and forearms were tingling painfully, his heart was beating in his throat, and every step sent a jab of pain from his heels all the way to his thighs.

He stopped abruptly, puzzled, when he noticed the sky in front of his right boot. It took him a few seconds to realize he was teetering on the edge of a chasm with no visible bottom. The pulsing, churning stormy clouds were filling his field of vision completely.

(That's inconvenient.)

Emotionless, he turned slowly, his neck and back painfully stiff, and was prepared to walk back the way he came without a thought. When he was met with a similar cliff edge a few meters behind him though, that is when he finally realized just what this meant.

(No. I have... I have to keep walking...)

He looked around, completely defeated, and understood that he was standing on a minuscule stretch of desert suspended in the vast grey abyss of the sky. There was nowhere to go. End of the road.

(How is this possible...?)

He collapsed on the ground heavily, exhaustion and despair catching up to him as if walking was what kept them at bay. The muscles in his thighs and calves were twitching painfully, pins and needles pricked his feet and he could not feel his toes anymore. He coughed, dry-heaved, spat blood again, tried to breathe deeply but could only rasp.

Nothing left to do but wait for the end.

(I'm so sorry, Rinoa...)

(At least you're safe. Everyone made it, right? Of course you all did.)

(Of course I couldn't. Right when I finally wanted to, right when... right when this life had gotten its hold on me, it just-)

He let out a shuddering sigh, wiped his brow to get the sticky hairs out of his eyes. There was no use lamenting the cruel irony of his fate. After all, he reminded himself bitterly, his destiny had been fulfilled. He had been the perfect little chess piece and accomplished every thing that had been demanded of him. He hoped. Despite everything, he still hoped he had done good. And that was maybe the thing that crushed him the most; he'd die without even knowing for certain that he'd succeeded.
He tried to reach Rinoa once more, extend his consciousness to hers... but again, the bond was severed.

He would have cried if he'd had any moisture left in him.

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Rinoa ran through the budding flower fields behind the orphanage, panting heavily, her lungs burning. Searching, squinting in the twilight, yelling Squall's name, kicking up fresh dew with each step.

They were supposed to meet here. They had promised. Everyone had ended up here and reunited, and it hadn't been long before the Ragnarok had landed nearby, piloted by Ellone and Laguna. The reunion had been as joyful as it had been short-lived; just where was he?

She tried reaching through their bond, for the hundredth time now it seemed, she had stopped counting. But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. She stumbled through the clusters of daisies and dandelions, her feet tangling in the long grasses, her breath catching in her throat, but she would not stop. Every movement in the corner of her eye, every nocturnal animal dashing, disturbed by her frantic hunt, had her gasping and hopeful, then crestfallen and closer to despair. She yelled his name again; startling a flock of birds from a nearby bush, which startled her in turn and she tripped on her own feet, falling on her knees in the foxtail grass.

Punching the ground in frustration, she let out a sound that was halfway between a scream and a sob, succumbing to the panic and dread she had started to feel the second she had awakened near the fallen pillar. She couldn't ignore the obvious; he wasn't here. Something... horrible had happened to him, she was sure of it. Did he get trapped? Lost? Was he injured? A multitude of scenarios played out in her frantic mind, and none of them were any kind of positive.

As she was crying softly, hidden away between the long grasses, she noticed a firefly landing on her hand, greenish light blinking softly. Then another, a few feet in front of her, lazily flying around. She stood up, wiping her eyes and sniffling, and discovered the whole field was alight with them. She gasped softly at the wondrous display; the moon was shining bright in the darkening sky, stars winking behind passing clouds, crickets and night birds calling in a beautiful spectacle of life being reborn. It smelled of approaching summer on the breeze, of new beginnings and blooming love.

He was supposed to be here.

A surge of anger swept through her spontaneously. She was suddenly furious at the world, this outcome, fate, herself, at him even. None of this was fair. They had succeeded. They'd made it. Together. She could not accept that this was how it was going to end.

''You don't get to do this!'' She yelled into the immensity of the sky above her. ''Not after everything we've been through! Now you come back and you learn to love, and trust and- and be happy!'' Her voice faltered, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. ''You learn to hope and dream about the future...'' She sobbed quietly.

There was that sudden weird sensation deep in her stomach again, that tight coil of energy building up and ordering to be let free. A precursor to the complete unfolding of her sorceress powers; she had felt this strange phenomenon already before, yet it always took her by surprise with its intensity and urgency.

It felt... different this time though. As if something had just unlocked inside her. As if she had just spontaneously discovered an even deeper well of magical abilities that she definitely did not possess before this very moment.

She was a sorceress, the magic seemed to be reminding her, and Squall was her knight, and she'd be damned if she couldn't use her powers to somehow locate him. So Rinoa took a deep breath, swallowed back her tears and steeled her resolve, the magic inside her reveling in her newfound determination and fuelling her further. She stared at her palms; the deep red patches covering them. She'd done much worse. This was nothing. She could do this.

''Okay Leonhart. If you won't come back, I'll bring you back myself.''

With a sound like a thunderclap Rinoa's wings stretched out fully behind her, and from them hundreds of feathers started loosening themselves, floating up, scattering away as if with a mind of their own. She beat her wings vigorously so more could disperse with ease; she wasn't even sure what exactly it was she was doing but again, she trusted her instincts. And she had done this before, she suddenly realized, when Squall was stuck with Griever, albeit on a smaller scale. She had brought him back. Although he had physically been with her then, she was confident she could tweak the magic, potentiate it to match her demands.

If she didn't know where he was or how to reach him, then she'd just have to reach everywhere.

And so the ivory-white feathers of her wings drifted off throughout the vast continent and beyond, across mountains, deserts and plains. Through Timber, Balamb, Galbadia... into well-worn paths and unnamed ones, over forgotten ruins and neon-lit skyscrapers. And then into the distant past and future alike; through every possible iteration of this world, from every choice, be they inconsequential or cosmos-shattering, in this place and time, in every possible timeline, carried on a ghostly breeze only they could latch on.

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Squall opened his swollen eyes, realizing with astonishment that he was still alive.

He'd fallen in and out of consciousness for what seemed like days, sitting and slouched over his knees, even now refusing to just lay down in the dirt. Every time he awoke, the unyielding heat, the swirling sky, the wind, the sand, the laughter. Always the damned laughter.

Did it seem closer somehow?

(Did you... bring me here? Before you died?)

His weakened senses slowly came back to him, the various aches in his body registering gradually. His tongue felt like coarse sandpaper against the roof of his mouth, his ribs like a painful vice around his lungs every time he inhaled. He could feel his heartbeat throbbing in his temples, irregular and frantic, and dark spots danced in his vision whenever he turned his head, however gentle the motion.

He'd really thought this was it, this time. That he'd finally stop waking up. He had been wrong a dozen times or more already. He'd stopped counting. His fate had other plans it seemed.

Something caught his eye in the eddying vortex above him. Something shiny and fluttering, gently descending toward him.

(A white... feather...?)

He reached out a hand and the feather landed lightly, exactly in the middle of his open palm. He curled his fingers over it, feeling an overwhelming sense of déjà-vu and confusion. He had been in a frighteningly similar situation before, he was sure of it.

(White feathers... wings...)

(Blue.)

(...A blue duster?)

(Rinoa!)

He blinked and was suddenly stumbling in a field of blooming flowers. A wave of nausea assaulted him as he was momentarily stunned by the abrupt change of scenery. Had he done this? Was this real? The sun was setting, streaking the sky with oranges and reds, igniting the long undulating grasses with its glow as far as the eye could see. He knew this place, but could not remember its name. His whole body screamed with the pain of suddenly being upright again, but he pushed the sensations aside when he spotted her.

She was there, just out of arm's reach, the warm golden hour highlighting her silhouette. Her back was to him and she didn't move, even when he called out her name, his voice hoarse and full of relief.

He called her name again, louder in his mounting agitation, and when she finally did turn, he discovered in horror that he couldn't recognize her face. It was indistinct and blurry, dream-like in its odd way of withholding information. He tried to recall her features, recall the first time he'd seen her.

He felt himself falling backwards, far deeper than the ground he'd been standing on.

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There is music. Shuffling feet. A ballroom. A cream dress. Staring across the dance floor, at him, but her face still a mystery to him.
He sees brief flashes of her hanging off a cliff, then her in what seems like a space suit, but always her face stays hazy. He feels like he should know who that woman is, what the color of her eyes is, the way her lips move when she calls his name.

What is her name again?

What is his name?

He sees a blond boy with a sneer that makes his blood boil, but he just can't remember ever seeing him before. There is a great circular building, evoking dread and familiarity in equal amounts, and then there she is again, swaying slightly on her feet, an inhuman quality in it, and it is only dread he is feeling now though he cannot explain why.

He tries to go back to the ballroom. He replays the memory again, but her outline is mirrored with this other memory of her, ominously moving from side to side; a puppet with invisible strings. He knows, somehow, that that is not her. Once more, he ruminates on that key moment, and this time when she turns he can discern her eyes looking at him, but just as quickly the memory slips through his grasp, and this other one plays out more clearly: the sneering blond boy, shoving her forward brusquely.

From the beginning. Again. The music. The coldness of the pillar he is leaning on, the tang of champagne on his tongue. She turns.

Nothing.

Once more. He has to remember.

If he could just remember her face, he'd know her name.

He focuses hard. He can almost distinguish the color of her eyes.

Emptiness.

Again. He ignores the blond boy, he is not important. Only she matters, whoever she is.

The cream dress. The jet-black hair. Her index finger pointing up.

Up at the starry sky.

Up in space. Lost. Gasping for air.

A dance floor. Shuffling feet. Music.

An empty space.

No. She had been there. He was sure of it.

The laughter, closer now, maniacal, deranged. Between his ears, ringing.

Two rings. They seem important. A winged lion. His name. He couldn't remember his name.

A woman with flowing blond hair and glasses, an energetic man with a tattoo on his cheek, a beaming, petite woman in a yellow dress, a tall, smirking man with a cowboy hat.

A woman in a blue duster sweater, panic in her brown eyes as he falls away from her, down, down, shards of ice filling his vision. She extends a hand to catch his. Too far.

Who are these people?

The snout of a gigantic dragon-shaped spaceship framed by the moon, impossibly big and close, in the cold empty expanse of space.

The girl with wings on her back, laughing as the wind tugs at her hair against a backdrop of clear blue sky, as blue as her duster, his breath leaving him at the sight, unfamiliar emotions bubbling up in him.

He is falling again, and she is still reaching out to him, and a sound escapes her lips in a scream, a sound he does not recognize.

She is standing, completely alone in a ballroom. Had there been just the two of them?

Turning to him, walking over to him. Hazy, blurry. The memory rewinding, replaying.

Again. And again. And again.

The laughter slowly morphing into one long, breathless, anguished scream.

The girl with the wings stumbling, falling into him, and he spreads his arms wide but all he catches is dust, clogging his throat and stinging his eyes like shards of glass.

Shards of glass exploding towards him, the space suit helmet's face shield shattering, revealing her face, her chestnut eyes, full of terror and death, her mouth frozen in a silent scream, in an image so crisp and clear and complete that his blood runs cold.

And somewhere deep inside he knows this has happened to her, that he has been witness to it. Maybe not this version of him, but he doesn't know who he is anymore. A thousand scenarios of her demise play out simultaneously before his eyes, each one of them carrying that frightening feeling of déjà-vu. The shattered helmet. Her hands slipping off a cliff edge. Her skin white and frozen for eternity. Her eyes a reptilian yellow, his own trembling hands as they drive the blade through her chest. Her lifeless body fused to the torso of another. Her scream as claws and fangs rake her flesh with ease.

He sees himself then. The strike of a blade across his brow. The fires of hell burning his skin. A pillar of ice below his clavicle. The sneer of the blond boy and the electricity surging through his muscles. A wave of bullets and the trampling of a great mechanical spider. The girl with the wings, eyes a cold yellow as she strikes him down with the mere touch of her hand upon his chest.

A million instances of his death. Her death. Their deaths, sometimes entwined... often not at all.

An empty ballroom.

He still can't recall her name, despite her face finally being crystal-clear.

His vision blurs as tears stream down his face freely, and he screams, a strangled sob between terror and grief, heavy with the weight of a lifetime's worth of restraint. He's at the end of his breath but still he screams even though he has no voice, even when he feels his ego slipping away, the very essence of his being slowly erased. There's not much left already but he tries to hold on, a remnant of the default mode of his brain clawing on maddeningly to survival, his mind dissolving into one last emotion, the most primal of all: fear in the face of inescapable death.

He forgets how to breathe.

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Rinoa ran across the dusty plain, clutching Squall's jacket close to her chest. It felt to her like she hadn't left the flower fields behind the orphanage at all, that as soon as one of her feathers had connected with him, she'd merely stepped sideways somehow. She wasn't entirely sure how she had done it; through sheer power of will was her best guess. She could feel his presence in her mind, see his location as though he were the North and she a compass. Speaking to him through their bond had yielded no results and she feared the worst. But he was there, right there, a little further. It did not matter what state he was in, if she could just reach him, she would set things right.

There, in the distance, she finally spotted him when the gusts of wind and sand abated. She could distinguish his silhouette, lying inanimate on the ground. Picking up the pace, she found him inert, a fine layer of dust coating his body, eyes closed and mouth slightly agape. A tight knot formed in the pit of her stomach.

She fell unceremoniously to her knees next to him, propping his head up in her arms and wiping the sand gently from his face and hair.

He was cold, despite the oppressive heat of this strange desert.

She whispered his name, a plea and a prayer in equal measures, her own tears staining his cheeks. She had been too late. The realization left her reeling, utterly defeated. He had been stuck here, waiting for her, all alone... and she hadn't come in time. The sobs that racked her whole body then were the only sounds besides the quiet moan of the wind.

A sudden tingle then, deep in her belly. Tickling, flaring, bubbling up until it threatened to overpower her completely.

Magic.

Her fingertips felt like static and she briefly wondered if the powers coursing through her had a mind of their own and she was, once again, just a vessel for their agenda. She found she didn't care one bit right now, as it seemed like her goal was also theirs. She'd gladly offer whatever it is the magic in her demanded if it meant bringing back Squall.

But cheating death? Had there ever been such a thing? Was it even possible for a sorceress? And if it was... what did that make her? The implications of such immense power frightened her.

She put an abrupt stop to that train of thought.

No. She would set things right.

She wasn't sure if this newfound resolve came from her or the magic itself, found that she ultimately did not care. Her skin prickled all over, her forearms were numb and her lungs on fire... and it felt amazing.

She cradled his head and upper body close in a crushing, protective embrace, burying her face in his neck.

COME BACK! YOUR SORCERESS COMMANDS IT!


What started as a sigh on the wind picked up in intensity until a powerful whirlwind sprang up around them, raising walls of sand and grit from the ground, increasing in speed and size until even the storm clouds were being violently blown away. In the vortex's wake, ever pushing outward, green grass and innumerable flowers sprouted, filling the air with colorful floating petals and a refreshing spring breeze.

Rinoa whipped her head up and gasped in amazement. A warm midday sun was shining in a blindingly blue sky above her, driving the last of the grey desert world to oblivion. She turned around slightly, still holding Squall's lifeless body close.

She could spot the orphanage in the distance and, farther still, the distinct silhouette of the Ragnarok. They were back, somehow. She couldn't believe it.

But she didn't have time to marvel at the scope of her new powers for long, because Squall stirred slightly in her arms. Her heart soared and tears filled her vision as she saw him open his eyes slowly, blinking in confusion. She whispered his name lovingly, her smile radiant and tears streaking down her cheeks.

''Squall...'' He echoed weakly, toneless, still blinking and unable to focus properly. He looked puzzled, frowning as he seemed to try to make sense of his own name. His gaze when he finally locked eyes with her was devoid of any recognition.

Rinoa's stomach dropped, her face falling in quiet frozen panic. Immediately she wondered if she had done something wrong, if she had messed up somehow because she wasn't even sure how she had accomplished any of this, and these powers were all so new and so volatile and-

Squall lifted a quivering hand, touching her cheek hesitantly, his fingers surprisingly cold.

''You...'' He whispered, clenching his jaw so his teeth would stop chattering. ''Your... n-name...''

''Rinoa.'' She answered, her voice breaking, tears falling for entirely different reasons now.

''Rinoa...'' He repeated, testing the word in his own voice. ''Rinoa.'' He tried again, firmer, visibly struggling to establish any connection between the name and woman above him.

An orphanage. Zell, Seifer, Quistis, Selphie and Irvine. Edea's warm smile. His small hand in Ellone's. Balamb Garden. Seifer and Quistis and Zell again and exams and grueling training. Wounds and failures and successes. The familiar feel of a Gunblade in his hand. Ifrit and Shiva and Quetzalcoatl. Headmaster Cid and Selphie again and Dollet and graduating to a SeeD. The graduation ball, Rinoa, Timber and Deling and Laguna and Kiros and Ward. Irvine again, and the inaugural parade. Ultimecia's fiery eyes on Edea's impassive face. Ice and pain and Seifer's sneer and the smell of skin burning. Trabia Garden. Norg and Galbadia Garden and Fisherman's Horizon and being made Commander. Rinoa's lifeless body. White SeeDs, Watts and Zone and pain blooming on his cheek. A long walk, full of secret truths falling on deaf ears. Esthar and Odine and Lunatic Pandora and the Lunar base. The Lunar Cry and Tear's Point and Rinoa's unnatural yellow eyes.

The endless void of space.

The Ragnarok and Rinoa's warmth and The Plan and Adel. Ultimecia's mangled body and Griever snarling and time compression.

Edea's gentle smile. Again. The incredibly unsettling dual memory of looking into his younger eyes and those eyes looking into his older ones.

Walking. For years and years. Walking and forgetting, one step at a time, one memory at a time. Until there was absolutely nothing left to forget.

Every single one of his memories clicking back into their rightful place in his mind, restored from the hunger of the Guardian Forces, like all the pieces of a giant puzzle being brought together at once with exact precision.

She witnessed the spark of recognition suddenly light up his widening eyes, as it seemed everything flooded back to him in one great rush of memories. ''Oh Hyne... Rinoa!'' He gasped in total shock.

He cupped her face in both of his hands, astonished that she was real, his entire body now shaking with violent spasms. From his trembling lips came deep quick breaths, and Rinoa was worried that he was hyperventilating. Wanting to warm him she turned to grab his jacket, which had been tossed to the side earlier when she had knelt next to him, but Squall instantly started panicking, breathing even more shallowly and reaching frantically for any part of her he could hold onto. There was a frenzied look in his eyes that terrified her.

''No, no, p-please. I can't f-f-forget again, don't go, please.'' He uttered with difficulty, in between full body shivers. ''Don't want... t-to forget.''

Rinoa was dumbfounded. Just what had happened to him back there, lost in time? Seeing him in this state shook her to her core. She felt helpless, wanting to heal him but knew it wasn't something physical, wasn't something she could just magically make disappear. She pulled him upright in a siting position and he flung his arms around her desperately, holding her tightly like she was his only anchor to safety in a storm. Embracing him firmly, trying to warm him up, she cautiously brushed his mind with hers. Taking deep breaths and quelling her own panic at his state, she tried suffusing him with a sense of calmness and affection.

She perceived his fear and hysteria through their bond and it nearly overtook her with its intensity, but when his breathing slowed a little bit she knew she had been successful in turning the tide, if only slightly.

''Shhh... I'm right here, I'm not leaving.'' She cooed, rubbing his back gently.

''Rinoa... I f-forgot... I forgot... everything. Piece by p-piece. Couldn't... remember you. Couldn't leave.'' He explained with difficulty, stuttering and frantic. ''But I-I... remember n-now. Hyne, my... my whole life... Rinoa, it hurts so fucking much, I can't-''

He was sobbing.

Unabashedly, earnestly, without any attempt at restraint or self-control. Just the primal reaction of someone, not quite a man yet, not quite a boy still, expressing anguish and grief in the simplest, rawest way a human being could convey.

So strong were his emotions that Rinoa couldn't help new tears flowing down her cheeks too, yet still she cradled his head into the crook of her neck, determined to share this burden with him and carry him through it. She could only guess at the horrors he'd been through, forgetting everything that made him who he was and fading into nothingness, only to be brought back and have the totality of his memories thrust back into his consciousness in a flash. By his violent reaction, she realized that there must have been a strange kind of peace and comfort in not knowing about his own life for a couple of minutes; a blank slate free of the scars of past traumas. The notion crushed her and she felt in equal parts immensely sorry for him and utterly useless in alleviating his pain. He would need time, probably a lot of time, to integrate his memories back as a part of him again.

''It's okay, I got you. You're safe, I promise.'' She whispered in what she hoped was a soothing voice, between sobs of her own. She felt foolish for saying such inane platitudes in the face of such extraordinary circumstances, all the while bawling her own eyes out no less, but she sensed his distress actually lessening with her words. She figured it probably wasn't really about the words per se, but the general feeling of comfort that he desperately needed right now.

But still she could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his skin cold and clammy, his body shivering like a leaf against hers. He was clearly in some sort of shock and she was eager to get him to Balamb Garden's infirmary as soon as possible. She hoped he could stand or better yet, that someone would stumble across them in what had originally been a collective search for him around the orphanage. Rinoa was anxious about how much time her trip to that 'other place' had taken, though if the Ragnarok was still there it couldn't have been that long. Hopefully.

When he suddenly fell quiet and she felt him start to slump against her, slowly losing consciousness, fear crept in and she knew she had to move fast now. Mercifully, as fate would have it, Laguna was the one who found them right at this moment. He was stumbling through the long flowers and grasses and stopped dead in his tracks.

''Rinoa!? Thank Hyne you- wait, you found him!'' He exclaimed in disbelief. ''How- Hyne, is he okay?'' He quickly realized that Squall certainly was not, and for a moment Laguna stood locked in place at the sight. His knees almost buckled under the weight that had settled in his stomach, and he felt nauseous with the whiplash of emotions he had felt throughout this insane roller coaster ride of a day. He thought back to the last time he had seen Squall alive and well; when time compression had begun.

Yesterday. It had only been yesterday.

Back then, the group seemed to have been frozen for a moment before suddenly blinking out of existence. The effect was jarring but neither he nor Ellone had had any time to wonder about it, because the Lunatic Pandora had started to lurch to one side dangerously. As they both quickly boarded the Ragnarok and took off, they'd had just enough time to witness the giant crystal structure crash and sink into the ocean.

Without a second to catch their breath, an emergency distress call from Edea was received from the ship's communication system. She had felt a great ripple and tear in the fabric of space-time. At the old orphanage. And they should head there right now.

Laguna couldn't believe it. They'd all just left into time compression. But then again, nothing could surprise him anymore. He'd had enough head-splitting musings about time and fate and the future and the past to last his whole lifetime. He'd just been glad they made it back. So relieved Squall had made it back.

But then Edea mentioned she had only felt five energy... signatures. Auras. Whatever, he hadn't really listened by that point, he was too terrified. The only thing he could think about was not him, please not him.

He felt horribly selfish for having this reaction, but by Hyne if anything had happened to him he... Well he didn't actually know. His brain was mush and he was running on pure adrenaline and his leg was cramping painfully and they couldn't get to the orphanage fast enough.

And then, well, of course it had to be him.

Yet now here he was, pale and unconscious in Rinoa's arms, looking so lifeless but for the occasional shiver that racked his whole body. And the sight made Laguna forget how to breathe, until Rinoa's voice broke him out of it.

''He's really not okay. Please get the others, we'll have to move him.'' Rinoa tried to gently extricate herself from Squall's arms but he woke up slightly, tightening his grip on her and mumbling panicked nonsense before passing out again. ''I can't leave him.''

Without a second to spare Laguna was gone, heading back towards the orphanage and shouting for anyone to hear. Faintly she heard someone reply, she wasn't sure who, but her attention quickly returned to Squall when he started to come to once again.

''Squall, you have to stay awake, just a little longer. We'll get you to Balamb Garden.''

''...M'trying.'' He mumbled. ''Think... m'gonna be sick.'' He no longer stuttered, but his words were slurred, like trying to speak while half-asleep. He pulled back from Rinoa, turned slightly, but still held her arm as if fearing she would immediately disappear if he let go entirely. She put a hand on his chest to steady him as he dry heaved, swaying dazedly, but nothing ever came up.

When it was over he slowly turned toward her again, and the thousand-yard stare she beheld when he locked eyes with her chilled her to the bone. He parted his lips, seemingly on the verge of speaking, but his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out once more. Only this time his whole body went completely limp, his hand letting go of Rinoa's arm as she struggled to keep him upright.

Zell was the first to arrive, out of breath and surprised only for a second to see them both back. Swiftly he knelt beside Rinoa and assessed his friend's condition, putting two fingers on his wrist with one hand. With the other he pulled one of Squall's eyelids up and muttered a string of expletives. The others arrived in turn and he wasted no time, ignoring the audible gasp from Ellone.

''Irvine, fore-aft carry, you at the head, right now.'' He ordered as he gently laid Squall down on the lush grass. Rinoa stood up and moved back a few steps, giving them space but her eyes never left Squall's face, mind still reeling from that frightening look he gave her.

''Yep. Fuck.'' Was Irvine's succinct response as he rushed to grip Squall under the armpits, while Zell positioned himself between his legs, grasping under his knees. Quistis' hand on Rinoa's shoulder brought her back to the present with a start.

''I... I brought him back, Quistis. I set things right. This isn't supposed to be this way. I brought him back.'' She babbled quietly, eyes welling up again. Quistis wasn't sure what Rinoa meant exactly when she spoke of 'bringing him back', but considering that they had searched this area extensively already and had found nothing, and then Rinoa had inexplicably disappeared... she could only guess that Squall must have been lost somewhere in or outside time, unable to get back on his own like they all did.

''We won't give up on him. It's Squall, he will pull through. Stay with Zell and Irvine, just in case. Selphie, Ellone, President Loire and I are going to rush back to the Ragnarok, get everything ready so we can depart as soon as you guys are in. Are you okay?'' Quistis tightened her hold on her slightly, both to break her out of her shock and comfort her. ''Hey, Rin, will you be okay?'' She repeated, insistent.

Rinoa swallowed the lump in her throat, nodded sharply. ''...Yes. I'm good.''

Quistis nodded in turn, before breaking into a run after Selphie. Rinoa then noticed Ellone a little farther away to her left, her hands on Laguna's shoulders, and how she seemed to be giving him more or less the same speech Quistis had just given her. Laguna was rubbing his thigh, grimacing, before taking a deep breath and nodding but still decidedly distressed.

She wondered at that for a second, but then;

''We'll get him back safe, don't you even worry!'' Selphie shouted from afar, already hightailing it back to the ship with the rest of the group in tow.

On the count of three, Zell and Irvine lifted Squall up and were quickly yet carefully heading toward the Ragnarok, Rinoa following close beside them. The trip back was devoid of any conversation, the atmosphere tense as the boys concentrated on the path back, manoeuvring the uneven terrain as fast as possible.

They tried everything to heal him while aboard the ship, but no potions, remedies, phoenix downs, para-magic or even pure magic had any effect, just as Rinoa had feared. Everyone in the group except her was reminded then of a very similar situation, only with their roles reversed, but they dared not bring it up.

Squall did not wake up at any point during the entirety of the trip back to Balamb Garden, which was still stationed near Fisherman's Horizon.

----------------------------------------------------


As usual, sounds were the first things he perceived when he finally came back to his senses. Hushed conversations, far away, jumbled. The soft squeaks of sneakers on polished floors, walking with purpose. The rhythmic beeping of various machines. Distant coughing. A pen, noisily scratching on paper. Close. People talking. Two. A woman and a man.

Slowly words started making sense to him again, and he listened, albeit detached, still not quite all there.

''...possible heat stroke. Severe dehydration and traumatic shock. His blood pressure was critically low as a result, along with-''

The haze in his brain dissipated suddenly, a wave of adrenaline flooding his body as he realized two things: he had no idea where he was and most importantly, Rinoa was definitely not here.

(Was it a dream? Did I really not just talk to her!? Did she die in space!? No! She was there, she was holding me, I remembered her. She was real. She was alive. Hyne, what is real? Where am I!?)

His mind was going a mile a minute, ignited with fight-or-flight hormones and panic as he inhaled deeply, forcefully, trying to catch his breath. He sat bolt upright and took in his surroundings at a glance; he was in an infirmary bed, in Balamb Garden's infirmary. His eyes locked onto those of a stunned Dr. Kadowaki for one interminable second...

...and all hell broke loose.

Squall swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up awkwardly for a second before taking a resolute step forward. The IV tubes he hadn't even realized were hooked up to his forearm pulled him backwards painfully but he yanked them out in one swift motion. Blood spurted in a short arc, staining the floor and his grey hospital gown in long dark streaks.

''Hey, hey!! Stop, what are you doing!?'' The man beside Dr. Kadowaki, a nurse by the look of it, sprang into action at once and moved to block Squall's way, hands up in a calming gesture.

Squall was absolutely not deterred and punched him square in the face without a moment's hesitation before continuing on his way out. The nurse fell heavily on his back with a grunt of equal surprise and pain. As Squall made a beeline for the infirmary's hallway, Dr. Kadowaki stepped away from his path and hit a button on a panel on the wall. Before he could take two steps out into the corridor, two uniformed men had turned the corner and tackled him, struggling to restrain him properly.

''Let me go!! I have to see her!'' Squall screamed, blindly punching and kicking at the security guards.

''Fuck! How is this twig so strong!'' One of them exclaimed as they were joined by the nurse and finally, the three of them were able to restrain Squall long enough to bring him back to his bed, not without a fair amount of frantic struggling still. They secured his wrists and ankles to the bed's railing with straps and the nurse quickly set about extracting a liquid from a vial with a syringe.

''He shouldn't even be awake right now. This isn't normal at all! Up the dosage all the way to the next plateau, Nevek.'' Kadowaki stated, astonished as she set about re-arranging the numerous machines around her agitated patient. The needle went in and Squall winced, looking pleadingly at Dr. Kadowaki as she put a hand on his forehead in a soothing gesture. Looking into his eyes, she had the distinct impression that he seemed to have aged 10 years in the span of barely two, when she last had seen him as a patient.

''Please, I need... to see... Rinoa...'' Squall managed to mumble in a brief moment of clarity, between hysteria and the medicine knocking him out cold.

The doctor and nurse waited with bated breath for a full minute, making sure Squall had really gone under and that his vitals were good. When his breathing finally stabilized, everyone seemed to release their breaths at once. One of the security guard had a bleeding split lip and the other was trying to stop the flow of blood from his broken nose. Nevek himself already had a deep red mark on his upper cheek that would soon turn into a black eye. Dr. Kadowaki sighed deeply.

''Nevek, take a breather and go put some ice on that cheek. I'll fix up those two gentlemen and clean our dear Commander's arm.''

''You're sure?''

''Yes, then I'll have to leave for a little while... to fetch someone, if you don't mind.''

----------------------------------------------------


It was a little past eight when Rinoa was awoken from her fitful nap with a start. Angelo, who had been sleeping peacefully at her feet, also jumped in turn. Rinoa was certain she had heard her name being called clearly, but found herself alone in Squall's room, nothing different from when she had entered it a few hours ago.

The minimal amount of sleep she had managed to glean had been plagued by nightmares she couldn't even recall now. She remembered being utterly unable to calm down at first, breathless and on edge, and then suddenly being so sleepy she all but slumped down to the pillow from where she had been leaning on Squall's bed, her back against the wall.

She sat up, still unnaturally groggy, her left forearm throbbing with a strange dull pain that she couldn't explain. Looking out the window and stretching; she noticed the sun was setting on the horizon, giving the room a warm golden glow and a feel of coziness despite its sparseness. The sheets still smelled faintly of him, even though he hadn't used this space in so long, and the scent comforted and tortured her in equal measures. She attempted to connect with him through their bond once more, and was crestfallen to find that he still wasn't responding. She tried to convince herself that it was nothing to worry about; he was sleeping, recovering, receiving the best care possible... but no matter how much she rationalized the situation, she could not help being sick with worry. Yawning deeply to calm her nerves, she replayed the events of the last few hours in her head, trying to make sense of the new problems she'd soon have to face, with Squall by her side or not.

Clenching her jaw, she brushed the latter possibility away, refusing to envision it.

Squall had been handed over to Dr. Kadowaki's care as soon as they'd arrived, and as much as the whole group wanted to stay in the vicinity, she had to shoo them away lest they all disturb her work and the other patients. Standing dejected in the quad, unsure what to do with themselves, everyone had been surprised to hear each of their names spoken on the school's intercom, summoning them to the Headmaster's office.

Rinoa couldn't help noticing the looks they all got as they had made their way to the elevator. As far as the world knew, Zell, Quistis, Selphie and Irvine (and Squall, of course) were heroes who had struck down Adel once and for all. But what she was most painfully aware of were all the stares that she got from the other students. They were uneasy, suspicious, distrustful. Other SeeDs they crossed paths with seemed to her openly hostile.

So everyone knew. Well, at least she wouldn't have to hide or lie, she supposed. She was the one who freed Adel from her tomb.

But did they know about her possession? About Ultimecia?

Would it change their minds if they did, knowing that in the end, she was still a sorceress?

People feared sorceresses, and with good reason. And higher-ranking SeeDs... they knew their true purpose.

Selphie's hand slipping in hers had broken her out of her dark musings.

''Hey, fuck 'em. They don't know shit.'' She spoke in muted tones with a wink and a smile, easily guessing what was bothering her. Rinoa laughed under her breath, taken aback by her friend's crude thoughts on the matter.
''Yup.'' Irvine agreed, walking up to Rinoa's other side.

''Absolutely.'' Quistis agreed in turn, glancing back at Rinoa and smiling reassuringly.

''I'd like to see one just try and say something mean while I'm near.'' Zell declared passionately, punching his fist into his palm to further prove his point and bringing up the rear, effectively completing the protective circle around Rinoa.

Words could not express how thankful she was for her friends, her family now really, found in the unlikeliest of places and under the most outlandish of circumstances. She could only smile as her eyes welled up, and she wanted to express gratitude but feared the tears would just start flowing if she did. She was exhausted, frazzled and fraught with worry, the events of the day seemingly catching up to her right then. She muttered a quiet, broken thanks and that was more than enough for everyone.

When they entered the Headmaster's office, everyone was surprised to actually find Cid back in his usual chair. When he got up to meet them, Quistis, Selphie and Zell wasted no time carrying out the formal SeeD salute, with Irvine simply standing at attention, and Rinoa trying her best to emulate Irvine's rigid military pose as best she could despite feeling positively foolish.

''At ease, everyone.'' Cid began with a quick dismissive gesture. ''I... have to ask first and foremost: Have you succeeded?''

Rinoa had to quell the surprisingly strong wave of anger that came over her by clenching her jaw and biting her tongue. She understood that the fate of their reality had depended on them taking down Ultimecia, but the more emotional part of her was furious with Cid for not inquiring about Squall's health first. Squall, who had dedicated his whole life to Garden, following every order and performing admirably, who had had the title of Commander thrust upon him at eighteen while this man ran and hid.
She understood that ultimately, for SeeDs, the end justified the means. But she didn't agree with it. Especially not when it came to Squall. It was always harder when it was about someone close, she supposed.

''We have, Sir.'' Quistis was the one to answer. ''Ultimecia, the sorceress from the future, has been eliminated.''

Cid visibly sagged at her statement, sighing audibly in relief. He stumbled to the front of his desk, leaning on it with one hand as if he needed something solid to hold onto, feeling like a great weight had just been lifted off his shoulders. Then he started laughing.

A quiet, nervous, near-manic laughter that had the group cast side glances at each other in complete confusion.

''It's over... it's finally done. It... it worked.'' He whispered to himself in shocked disbelief, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

''...Sir? Are you well?'' Selphie asked hesitantly.

''Ah... yes, yes, I am. I apologize.'' He replied, regaining his composure and straightening up. ''We'll have a thorough debriefing once Squall is healed and feeling better. Until then, you all have permission to rest and recuperate.'' He paused, gathering his thoughts. ''You also must not make any mention of Sorceress Ultimecia to anyone outside Garden. As far as the general populace is concerned, you stopped the return of Sorceress Adel.''

''Understood.'' Quistis answered for the lot of them.

''Miss Heartilly, I'm afraid that for your own safety, I can't in good conscience let you leave Garden for now.'' Cid explained, turning to Rinoa with a sad smile. ''The narrative that has been agreed upon by Esthar's president and me is that it was Sorceress Adel who possessed you to free her, and upon her defeat you inherited her powers and became the next sorceress. It'll have to do for now, until we figure out how to proceed next.''

Rinoa nodded weakly, her head suddenly spinning. She didn't know if she should feel safe or alarmed by essentially being made prisoner inside a Garden as a sorceress. But her friends were here, with her. Squall was here. She had to believe she would be alright.

Besides, where would she go?

Cid looked at each of them in turn, a fond but somewhat bittersweet smile on his lips.

''I'm proud of all of you. What you achieved and the insurmountable odds you faced... You are already viewed as heroes, and rightfully so. Please do remember to honor this title and act like it.'' He cast a meaningful glance and smirk toward Zell and Irvine. ''Dismissed. Miss Heartilly, a word please.''

''Thank you, Sir!'' Zell, Quistis, Selphie and Irvine replied in unison, before giving a final formal salute and quietly, reluctantly exiting Cid's office.

Rinoa felt eerily exposed, now alone in the large office space with the Headmaster. She was still debating if she should attempt another awkward salute, or address him as 'sir', or just forego any try at mimicking some form of military training when he smiled warmly at her.

''There were some things I wanted to ask you about, without the others present...'' His smile was replaced with a look of concern when he noticed Rinoa's rigid posture and guarded expression. ''You look like a deer in headlights! Please don't be so nervous.''

''Am I in danger?'' Rinoa blurted out, unsure how to phrase her worries without offending the Headmaster but deciding to just be honest about her fears. Cid cleared his throat, measured his words.

''Not here at Garden, no. This I can assure you. You are a welcome guest and a memo will be sent out promptly to all students and personnel about the situation. Should problems arise, disciplinary measures will be taken.''

''Is... Is this a... 'keep your friends close but your enemies closer' kind of thing?'' Rinoa asked warily.

Cid actually looked hurt, his tired eyes full of sympathy. ''No, not at all. I know you are aware of the true purpose of SeeD but it's... more complicated than that. Once Squall feels better, I will explain everything. In the mean time, you are safe here, I promise.''

There was a brief pause where Rinoa simply looked at him, gauging his honesty, until she ultimately decided to let go of her doubts and softened her stance. What cemented her decision was simply that Squall was here, and she'd never abandon him, no matter what.

''...Okay.'' She relented.

''Thank you. Now, speaking of Squall... I was told you were the one who found him in the fields behind the old orphanage, after having been gone all night and morning, is that true?''

Rinoa was confused for a second. Had she really been gone that long? But then she remembered it was twilight when she stepped sideways, as she had come to refer to it, and then about noon when she was back again, with Squall in her arms. The whole journey to that place beyond time and back seemed to her to have taken half an hour at most, yet almost 16 hours had actually passed.

''...Oh, uh, sorry. Yes.'' She realized she had been lost in thought for a long moment, still feeling drowsy and strangely sluggish. Yet the understanding that she had literally lost a chunk of time out of her life left her quite disturbed. ''He didn't... make it back on his own, like we did. I was the one who brought him back. I- I'm not sure how I did it.'' She clarified.

''I see. Did he speak to you about anything he might have seen, before falling unconscious?'' Cid asked, seeming to choose his words carefully.

Rinoa felt an anxious pit in her stomach again; something about these questions felt not quite right and just plain bizarre. She wanted to leave this office, had the urge to run back to the infirmary and just stay by Squall's side. Cid clearly knew more than he was willing to tell about what had happened to him and she wished he didn't have to be so damn cryptic. She nevertheless thought back to Squall's odd, awful ramblings about forgetting everything, the way his whole body seemed to slowly shut down as if he'd been through something so traumatic his mind simply could not process it. And that dreadful, frightening look in his eyes...
''N-No. He just... No, nothing like that.'' She stammered, unsure if she should reveal any more and ultimately settling against it.

''Very well. That is all, thank you.'' Cid had definitely caught her hesitation but decided not to press the issue further. For now. ''Oh right, here.'' He shuffled some documents around on his desk, picked up a keycard and handed it to her. ''Squall's room. You can use it until we sort out a proper place for you. You will also find Angelo waiting for you there. She has become quite smitten with our pilot Nida while you were gone, I have to say!''

After thanking him profusely, Rinoa opened the door to the hall only to bump straight into Irvine. And Selphie. And Quistis and Zell. All suspiciously, comically looking like they had just been trying to eavesdrop.

''Everything okay?'' Irvine asked seriously nevertheless. ''We were pretty worried.''

''Oh, yeah, it's fine, it was nothing.'' She made a dismissive gesture, not wanting to dwell on it. ''Thank you so, so much guys...''

''Hey, it's nothing at all!'' Selphie pulled her into a tight hug that Rinoa hadn't realized how much she needed until that point.

''We were gonna grab a bite to eat, you coming with?''

Rinoa nodded, wiping her eyes discreetly.

After a silent, rather tense communal dinner at the cafeteria, where students seemed unsure if they should cheer them on or leave them alone, everyone had agreed to simply go to their rooms to wait for updates, and try and get some sleep.

And Rinoa had at least managed that in the last hour, if a bit sporadically. Angelo had re-positioned herself, now somehow taking most of the available space on the bed, sighing and content. Rinoa ruffled the fur on top of her head playfully, grateful to have her companion by her side again.

There was a firm knock on the door.

Jumping in surprise once again, Rinoa straightened her rumpled clothes quickly, confused as to who even knew she was in here. For a fleeting moment she imagined Squall standing on the other side of the door, waiting for her to greet him. She instantly felt silly, but couldn't deny she desperately wanted it to be true.

Fear crept up from her stomach when she opened the door and came face to face with Dr. Kadowaki. Before she could open her mouth to ask the dozen questions that were all fighting to be spoken first, the stoic doctor raised a hand in a silencing motion.

''He's okay. But there's been an incident. Come with me, we need to talk.''

The halls of Balamb Garden were mostly empty at this late hour, which Rinoa was thankful for. Dr. Kadowaki wasted no time recounting the earlier unfortunate events as they both made their way to the infirmary at a brisk pace.

''He did what?'' Rinoa exclaimed incredulously.

''Dinged my intern in the eye pretty bad too. Took three men to restrain him long enough so we could get more sedative into him. One guard even had a broken nose...'' Kadowaki trailed off, still astonished by what had transpired. ''Rinoa. This young man has been through the wringer, to put it lightly. He was not in good shape when he was admitted here. At all. Yet it took three healthy, fit men to wrestle him down. He should not have even been awake, with the amount of sedatives we'd previously put into him. What is going on?''

Rinoa took a second to process what she had just been told. Then it finally dawned on her. ''...Oh. Since I'm... I mean, he- Actually, I think it might be because... he's my knight.''

Dr. Kadowaki rubbed her eyes and forehead vigorously with one hand, trying to chase away her exhaustion.

''Figured as such. That would have been very useful information to have beforehand.'' She sighed deeply.

''Wait, you're... you're aware of what that means?''

''Of course I do. I've been working as a doctor here since Garden's been built, closely with Headmaster Cid and his wife. I've authored several research papers on the effects of sorceress magic on a knight.'' Kadowaki explained somewhat exasperatingly. Rinoa felt awful, smacking her forehead mentally at not having the presence of mind to disclose this important fact earlier.

''I'm so sorry, truly. I didn't think... It's all so new to us still, and I was-''

''-Quite distraught, yes. It's okay, I understand. Luckily nothing overly serious happened.''

It all clicked into place for Rinoa then. Of course she had been feeling panicked and agitated earlier, and then inexplicably sleepy. Squall's mind had been firmly closed to their bond since she brought him back, but so strong were his emotions and physical state that they had still seeped into and influenced her. She berated herself internally for not realizing this sooner and felt awful for not immediately rushing to his side, doctor's orders be damned.

They turned the corner then and entered the main reception room of the infirmary. Rinoa fidgeted with the hem of one of her arm warmers, anxious to know if she'd finally get to see Squall. Why else would the doctor have brought her here, considering what had happened?

''So, listen. During this whole ordeal he kept asking for you. When I cleaned him up later on he partially woke up, again, and still he asked for you. In still quite the agitated manner might I add. So I'm gonna bend the rules here and let you stay with him. We can't keep him high as a kite forever and at this rate he'll be going through my entire stock of sedatives. The boy has to rest, stay calm, and keep whatever we're sticking into him into him.'' Kadowaki explained, taking a seat at her desk and giving Rinoa a level stare.

''I understand, thank you so-''

''Second door on the left behind you.'' Kadowaki interrupted, picking up a pen and resuming some paperwork with a half smile.

----------------------------------------------------


Closing the door softly behind her, Rinoa immediately caught sight of the straps restraining Squall's wrists and ankles to the bed, despite the only light being a discreet bedside lamp amid the numerous machines. She made her way toward the head of the bed, noticing that a high-backed arm chair had been moved next to it for her to sleep in. Unsure about what exactly to do now that she was finally here, she sat down and just watched Squall attentively, her eyes now well adjusted to the gloom.
She thought at first that he was sleeping peacefully, but now realized that she could not have been more wrong. His brow was furrowed, some of his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. His breaths were deep but irregular, his jaw tense and his legs twitching every now and then. She wanted to touch his hand, take it in hers and go from there, and noticed that he had it balled in a tight fist.

His whole body jumped when she lightly put her palm on it, gently working her fingers between his to try and break the tension in his muscles. Gradually his grip softened, and his head turned toward her slowly, groggily. His eyes opened in two narrow slits as if even the weak light was too much to endure.

''Hey you.'' Rinoa whispered with a smile, tightening her hold on his fingers.

Squall wasn't sure if she was really there. He felt like it had been an eternity since he last saw her, and even then, he could not be completely sure he hadn't dreamt the whole thing up anyway. He had been caught for the last few hours between a deep dreamless sleep, a light nightmare-ridden rest and a confused, half-awake daze where his thoughts seemed stuck in molasses. He tried moving his other hand, tried to touch her face just like he had done in the flower fields and prove she was not an apparition but the restraints prevented it. He blinked a few times, puzzled, as if only now noticing them.
Immediately he gave them a few sharp tugs, attempting to break free and Rinoa could sense his mounting panic. She stood up and leaned over him, putting a hand on his chest and the other on his cheek in what she hoped was a soft but firm effort to calm him down.

''No, Squall, please... I'm right here. It's okay.'' She murmured in a soothing tone, which to her surprise worked almost instantly. The way he softened, closed his eyes and leaned into her palm both warmed her heart and broke it. He looked so... vulnerable, was the only word that came to her mind. It was not a word one would often associate with Squall, not at all actually, and seeing him like this made her feel completely powerless.

''Don't... leave me.'' He spoke hoarsely and with difficulty, as if struggling to form clear words.

''I won't. I promise.'' She answered, and the way he said it made her suspect he wasn't only speaking about this very moment. She reached out to him through their link, wanting to comfort and ease his troubled state, but he physically flinched, his eyes snapping open in alarm.

''No, please. I can't-'' His voice broke and his eyes welled up, and Rinoa's stomach dropped at the sight. This was too much for him right now and she was momentarily reminded of a time before their bond, when they butted heads daily and he refused to share anything even remotely emotional with her. It seemed to her such a long time ago and yet she knew this was all still so novel, even if the bond had appeared to settle so naturally between the both of them.

She couldn't be offended by his rejection. In fact, she got the distinct feeling that he was so distraught right now he was simply defaulting back to old patterns. Safe habits. But it still felt like lost progress.

''It's okay, I understand. I'm sorry.'' She ran a hand through his hair and he calmed down again, closing his eyes while an escaped tear streaked his left cheek. He turned his head away from her in a feeble attempt to hide it. She acknowledged his need to protect his pride somewhat, and instead set about undoing the knots of the straps at his ankles and wrists, rubbing each of them tenderly to relieve the discomfort. As soon as he was finally free, Squall turned on his side, away from her. He was silent, but she could see his back heaving with suppressed sobs.
Feeling absolutely helpless and wanting to give him space, she instead set about rearranging the blanket around him, bringing it up to his shoulders and covering his feet properly. Again, she could only wonder at what exactly had happened to him back there. She was just about to sit back down on the chair when to her surprise, he spoke faintly.

''Just... stay close to me.'' His voice was soft, trying so hard to mask his current emotional state. ''...Please.''

Rinoa's heart broke all over again at this desperate plea, those same words that had come to mean his growing affection for her in the past. He might not have remembered it, but the first time he had spoken those words to her like an order were during Edea's assassination attempt. He had been bound to her through their contract and she had been so... naive, was the only term that she could find to describe herself. He'd saved her from an extremely foolish mistake that could've easily cost both their lives. He had been infuriated and annoyed as he barked those words to her, his stare and voice full of venom.

The second time... the words had been uttered softly, longingly, with a hint of possessiveness that she'd never before heard in his voice. He had changed his mind; refusing after all to let her go to be frozen in stasis for the greater good. She still could not grasp just why he had been so illogical about this, how un-Squall-like he had been. And when she expressed doubt at her ability to control her sorceress powers or to prevent a future possession, he'd dismissed her concerns. It definitely would have been safer, at least until he could formulate a solution... but no. Those words again, hanging on a promise of trust and hiding a growing love beneath them.

Now though... now they were whispered quietly, on the exhale of a sigh heavy with exhaustion and fear. And where the first time, the words came from a duty to protect, the second time came from a desire to protect. But now, Rinoa understood, it was a plea to be protected.

She wasted no time, didn't care if it was the meds making him especially sensitive and loopy; anything he needed she would be happy to provide. Especially now. So she slipped into bed next to him. Nestling close, she molded her whole body against his back as she reached an arm over his chest in a protective embrace. Her breath tickled the nape of his neck and he shivered with a sigh when she put a light kiss there. No more than a few minutes later she could feel his deep regular breaths against her body, hear him snoring lightly.

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Rinoa came to later that night, awakened by the spasmodic jerks in Squall's limbs as he was in the throes of yet another nightmare. She wasn't even sure how much time had passed, the blinds having been closed shut and no sign of a clock anywhere that she could see. She rubbed his back softly, planting kisses on his neck and shoulder lovingly until he settled once more.

She drifted in and out of sleep, each time wondering if minutes or hours had passed in between the strange nightmares that hounded her. Dreams of space, mostly. And of Ultimecia's cold calculating eyes. Soon she questioned whether time was even passing at all in this never-ending night. So she laid awake, concentrating on the steady rise and fall of Squall's chest under her hand. She was determined to soothe and comfort him each and every time he was having a nightmare.

''I'm lost.'' He spoke suddenly, on the brink of delirium, his voice cutting the heavy silence and darkness like a blade. Rinoa wondered if he was sleep talking, because he couldn't possibly have known that she was awake right now to hear him utter those words, so full of hopelessness and fear. Ultimately it did not matter, she pulled him even closer to her body, her arm firmly across his midriff and he held on to her hand like a tether to sanity.

''It doesn't matter.'' She began, softly near his ear. ''I'll always find you. And I'll bring you back. Every time. As many times as it takes.'' She tried to convey with only her voice the extent of her unwavering resoluteness without resorting to their bond, and when he turned around to face her she knew then he hadn't been just talking in his sleep.

His eyes searched hers, pleading, questioning, hesitant. Laying a hand on his cheek, she brought her forehead to his, determined to make him see she was serious.

''If you can believe in one thing, believe this.'' She added quietly.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears and he also put his hand on her cheek softly, mirroring her, always mildly bewildered that she was really there. With the one simple answer he breathed out, Rinoa's heart swelled with love and hope.

''Okay.''

Trust. Progress that had not been lost after all.

She still desperately wanted to understand what he was going through, but for now this was enough. She was well aware that his gravest wounds were not physical, and that what he'd been through in that empty pocket outside of time had broken something inside him. Something that had already been holding on by a thread for so, so long. No endless wealth of magical prowess could fix that, and the only thing she could ultimately do was to be there for him as he worked it out himself and shared it with her, at his own pace.

Not as a sorceress, but simply as Rinoa.

She knew it would take a while. A lifetime, maybe.

But it was fine, they had all the time in the world now.