Futureloop
Chapter Nine - Childhood Trauma
By Devi Dee
Author's Notes: Yeah, so I can't write dialogue for kids very well. So fuckin' shoot me. Also a chapter of Light Relief; so I couldn't resist a wedding scene, so shoot me. I decided to keep Ellone around until Squall turned six for simple reasons of plot. If this doesn't gel with your own interior timeline, tough. This chapter gets kind of saccharine in parts... In fact, people with a family history of diabetes might want to skip over it entirely; yes, it does indeed get that bad. Apologies a thousand times, but once I started I just... couldn't... stop... Aarrgghh! I think I'm gonna need another Ultimecia scene soon just to make up for it. Kurse all khildren! Mwah hah ha hah haaa! I turn you all into gingerbread! Bake you in oven and eat you all up! Hahahahahaha!
Futureloop
Chapter Nine - Childhood Trauma
By Devi Dee
It all started with the blocks. Once upon a time they had been brightly coloured and smooth, but years of rough play and being left outside and in the sun had faded the colours and chipped the edges. They were in every single shape and size our small minds could have ever wanted -- cubes and rectangles mingled with cylinders and arches and pyramids -- and with such wondrous building materials it was no wonder the castles they produced were nothing short of fantastic in the eyes of those who built them. There were as many different styles as there were builders. Zell's were always neat and perfectly constructed. Quistis' sprawled out large and low, each block a different house with a different family and a different story. Selphie built huge towers and walls whose sole purpose was to be knocked down again. Irvine made elaborate mansions with swimming pools and topiary hedges. And Seifer? Seifer always built up. Huge monolithic constructions full of garrets and turrets, the top-heavy construction making them lean at crazy angles -- though never toppling -- feathers and string and brightly coloured pieces of paper hanging out between the cracks. All his castles always had at least one wing.
We wouldn't see anything else like them for a long time, and by the time we did, none of us were in any mood to reminisce.
Time isn't linear; it ripples, back and forward and out and in. Echoing as it bounces off itself. We wouldn't understand that until much later, either.
On this particular day, while the storm clouds gathered ominously outside, a fight was brewing. It was cabin fever, more-or-less, brought on by two months of bad weather; of wind and rain and lightning and freezing temperatures. We were all somewhat on edge.
It started when Zell got it into his head to give Seifer pointers on how to construct a castle the 'proper' -- or, in other words, Zell -- way. Seifer did what we all agreed was a marvellous job of not pummelling the other boy's head into the floor up until, in a demonstration of just how unsturdy the construction was, Zell knocked over one of the emerging castle's turrets. So Seifer decided to return the favour, demonstrating just how unsturdy Zell's head was by hitting it with the biggest, pointiest wooden block he could lay his small hands on.
The room held its breath. Two, three, four...
Exactly on queue, Zell burst into tears. And Seifer was collecting more blocks.
If Matron found out, she'd confiscate them and that wasn't going to be good for anybody.
"Leave him alone," I snapped darkly, rising from where I was hunched over in the corner.
Seifer narrowed his eyes, lazily tossing a block up and catching it again. "Or what?"
"..."
He growled. "Talk!" he screamed, and the block went flying at my head.
I caught it easily, but didn't drop it. The others had all stopped what they were doing, watching intently. This was shaping up to be good.
"..."
"Why won't you ever talk to me?" Childish rage boiled over and suddenly I was thrown against a wall. I cracked him across the jaw with the block I was holding before he bit down on my hand, forcing me to drop it. Breathing hard, I kicked him off, sending him rolling across the carpet as he screamed a string of child-like curses. Even at the tender young age of six he still had quite a mouth.
As soon as he'd stumbled to his feet he was on me again, biting and kicking and slapping; pure instinctive rage, lacking any of the style and training we'd both eventually receive.
If Matron found us, we'd both be in trouble.
So it was time to take this outside.
I ran for the door and managed to make it out before he caught up. He stopped the heavy wooden thing before I could slam it back in his face and we tumbled down the back steps, a tangle of flailing limbs.
This wasn't just about the blocks. It was never that simple.
We were throwing clumps of wet, muddied sand at each other by the time the storm broke; already a long way away from the shelter of the orphanage, our clothes ripped and torn. Despite all the fighting, we had very few cuts and bruises, most of which had been inflicted by the landscape. It would be wrong to say we were only playing, because we were both deadly serious -- this time as in every time -- but we weren't out to do permanent damage, just prove a point. Who was better, who could come out on top.
He tackled me into the sand just before we reached the lighthouse, thunder and lightning splitting the sky as if in response to the two little boys tearing into each other on the rocky Centra shores. He had me pinned down, straddling my hips, one hand raised behind his head in a fist, the other against my chest, bracing him upright. This was going to be it. I was going to walk away with a bloody nose and him bruised knuckles; a victory as hollow as every other.
I closed my eyes, waiting for a blow which never came.
Instead I felt his hand move against my chest, feeling something underneath the worn cotton of my jumper. He reached down the front of my clothes, emerging with a heavy platinum chain which glinted in the storm.
Griever.
He looked at it for a while, a strange expression softening his features momentarily. It was gone in a flash and the snarl was back. He jerked on the chain roughly, causing me to emit a small whimper as my head was jerked up off the sand. "Where'd'ja get this?"
The truth
("You.")
sounded stupid, even to my ears, so I just said nothing. A flash of lightning split the sky behind him, the thunder rolling close on its heels, and in that instant our entire worlds changed.
He replaced Griever gently against my chest before reaching down inside his own jumper to reveal what would, one day, be a tight-fitting steel choker. At the moment it hung loosely against his boyish frame, but it was still unmistakable.
Suddenly those dreams didn't really seem like dreams anymore.
Another flash of lightning and by the time the thunder rolled away I was sitting up, face buried against his chest and arms wrapped tightly around his waist, all the while thinking of a twilight-soaked desert and a man who always seemed sad, even when he laughed. Seifer seemed surprised by the suddenness of the outburst, but eventually returned the embrace and we just sat there in the wet sand, rain and tears soaking our bodies, for what seemed like an age before I realised we were both shaking with the cold. Well, mostly the cold.
We broke off the embrace reluctantly and rose, knowing we had to get somewhere dry. But the orphanage seemed very far away and the lightning very close, so we opted for the next best thing, climbing up crumbling steps and into the disused lighthouse where we huddled under some old, moth-eaten blankets until we fell asleep in each other's arms -- Seifer spooned up against my back, me gently suckling on his fist -- until the storm cleared and Matron came to take us home.
We didn't get into nearly as much trouble as we had expected. At the very least we'd thought the blocks would have gone, and Seifer and I expected to be doing extra chores for weeks for fighting, but none of that ever happened. As if Matron had come to understand something when she found us curled up together inside the lighthouse, had seen the tentative bonds that were beginning to develop between her two most stubborn and antisocial wards and hadn't wanted to shatter them by sending us into bickering over whose fault it was that we were spending all our free time washing dishes and scrubbing floors.
Besides, we both came down with a nasty flu that had us laid out for two weeks. I probably would have minded more than I did, but it was hard to get too upset when I had a warm, cuddly Seifer-sized shape next to me the whole time. One who told exciting stories about dragons and fair maidens and gallant heroes, and one who -- finally -- didn't seem to mind the fact that I didn't talk very much. And every night we'd fall asleep in each other's arms and dream of a vast, dusty wasteland and the kind eyes and warm arms which waited for us. Sometimes we'd wake up and the bed would be full of chalky red dust, and Matron would look at us strangely, but never said anything.
Eventually we both recovered and went back out to play with the others. The bad weather had blown over, being replaced with crisp clear days which were no less cold despite the bright sun beaming down on us. Things went, mostly, back to normal. Seifer would still pick on Zell, Zell would still cry, I would still intervene and it would still wind up in a vicious fight. Except now when we finished I would always find myself drawn into a tight embrace as Seifer -- using that arcane, child-like magic -- would proceed to kiss all my cuts and bruises better. And Matron would look at us strangely, but say nothing because we were both still so young and the attentions were nothing less than entirely innocent.
It didn't occur to either of us that we were doing anything strange until one day in Spring when Selphie decided to have a wedding.
She had spent all morning with Irvine out in the big fields of wildflowers picking enough white petals to fill a large basket, and when they returned she had a huge grin plastered across her face as she announced that we were all going to get married. Zell had protested loudly, saying that girls were gross and that he was going to have no part in anything that involved him coming within a ten mile radius of one. So Selphie had appointed him the priest, and Zell had seemed satisfied with that after he'd been informed that priests weren't allowed to get married. Selphie, of course, nominated herself to be married to Irvine who seemed to think this was a fine idea, thus leaving Seifer and Quistis as the other couple.
Upon hearing this, Seifer looked up from where he'd been using soft toys to re-enact the Second Sorceress War and wrinkled his nose. "I'm not gonna marry Quisty," he announced in typical Seifer fashion.
Selphie pouted. "Aww, meanie. Why not?"
"'Cause! I'm marryin' Squall."
At the mention of my name, I looked up briefly from the book Sis was reading to me. So, Seifer was going to marry me? I mulled this over for a while, deciding there were probably worse fates in life, and went back to the story, tugging on Sis' arm, trying to get her to continue. But she wasn't, instead too busy trying to stifle her giggles. I pouted.
"You can't marry Squall," Quistis said, putting her hands on her hips in her typically bossy fashion.
"Why not?" Seifer crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. He'd made up his mind to do something, and nothing short of the Apocalypse was going to change it.
"Because," Quistis explained pointedly. "He's a boy. You can't marry another boy, you hafta marry a girl."
"Oh yeah! Says who?" Leaving the impression that Seifer was going to find out just who these people were and tell him exactly what he thought of them.
"You just do. It's the law."
"Well, I don't wanna marry a girl. Girls're weird."
Zell chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully, mulling this logic over in his head. "If Seifer gets to marry Squall, then I wanna marry Irvine."
"Okay!" the boy in question had piped up cheerfully, detaching himself from Selphie and winding his arm through Zell's instead.
"Then who'm I gonna marry?" Selphie pouted.
Irvine thought about this for a moment. "You can marry both of us!" he decided.
"Yay!" She immediately reattached herself to Irvine's arm. Zell looked at her dubiously, but decided it was okay as long as he had Irvine there to keep the girl germs away.
"No no no!" Quistis stamped her foot irritably. "That's even worse! You can only marry one person at a time."
"Okay! Then I'll marry you!" Selphie giggled, wrapping her arm around the bemused-looking Quistis.
Sis was almost in hysterics, and she still hadn't resumed the story. I sighed and began reading the book myself, eyes pulling painfully across the words, oblivious to the fiasco unfolding around me.
"No," Quistis' protests were getting more and more feeble against the weight of opinion. "Two girls can't get married. Who... who'd wear the suit? You can't have two wedding dresses!"
"I'll wear a suit!" Selphie immediately volunteered.
Eventually it was decided that it was okay if two boys or two girls got married, as long as one was wearing a suit and one a dress. Irvine demonstrated that he wasn't at all afraid of a bit of cross-dressing and immediately began going through the big dress-ups box looking for something suitable. Since I had made the mistake of not paying attention to what was going on, I found that Seifer had nominated me for the position of bride when he snuck up behind me and pulled something black and satiny over my head.
"There!" he announced. I looked up and noticed he was wearing a old jacket which looked more like a trenchcoat on his small frame. I also noticed there were feathers tickling my nose and I looked down to discover I was wrapped up in one of Matron's old cocktail dresses. "Come on!" he announced before I could protest, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me up. Deciding that resisting probably wasn't worth the effort, I allowed myself to be dragged over to the others; taking my book with me as I did so. Everyone else was dressed in a similarly motley assortment of clothing. Zell had grabbed the black velvet cape and was wearing it proudly as he clasped the hand of his 'bride', who'd gone all out, right down to the high-heeled shoes and long strings of plastic pearls. Selphie had on a moth-eaten but ornately worked jacket which we would all, eventually, learn to recognise as part of a Balamb SeeD uniform, and Quistis had wriggled herself into what looked suspiciously like someone's old twin set.
"But who's gonna be the priest!" Selphie had exclaimed when she realised there was nobody left.
"I will," Sis piped up, rising to the box and rummaging around until she found an old scarf which she draped reverently around her shoulders. She took her place in front of our group and proceeded to clear her throat importantly. "Wait," she said. "We need a book! When Raine and Uncle Laguna got married the priest read out of a big book."
Deciding that this was my big chance to get some more of my story read, I handed her the one I was holding, pointing to where I gotten up to.
"Okay!" she cleared her throat again. "Dearly beloved, we are all gathered here today to join these people in holy marriage. Marriage is a sacred bond, ordained by Hyne, so that a person in a suit and a person in a dress may live together happily ever after. To show this I will now read aloud from the sacred Blathnorg's Caverns, a Choose Your Own Adventure Book. Ahem... 'Up ahead you see a twisted road. A small track leads off to the west. To continue down the road, turn to page 247. To investigate the track, turn to page 18.'"
"Take the track!"
"No, tracks are scary! Stay on the road..."
And so on, and so forth. Eventually, we made our way successfully through Blathnorg's Cavern, and upon emerging on the other side we were all pronounced married. Selphie reached into her basket of now-wilted flowers, tossing the browning petals up into the air to a rousing chorus of 'Here Comes the Bride', and it was in this state that Matron chose to walk in an find us all.
"By Hyne, what are you children doing? I hope someone plans on cleaning up all those petals and Irvine why on earth are you wearing my shoes?"
"We got married!" Selphie announced happily, gripping onto her still dubious spouse. Irvine and Seifer followed suit. "See, I was gonna marry Irvy and Quisty was gonna marry Seifer but he said he'd rather marry Squall and then Zell wanted to marry Irvy so I decided to marry Quisty but she said you can't do that 'cause you gotta have a boy and a girl to get married so then we decided that if some of us wore dresses an' some worse suits then that was okay!" It all came out in a big, long rush. Matron just raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
"I see. And what about Ellone?"
"I married them," Sis announced proudly.
Matron who, to her credit, has a mind as broad as two planks, just looked at us all and shrugged. At least nobody was fighting. "That's nice children. Well, it sounds like you all had fun. Now how about we clean up all these flowers and get ready for dinner?"
"Yes ma'am!"
The wedding didn't re-enter my mind until I was back in the desert again, sitting safely on the dream-Seifer's shoulders, my hands twining in his hair.
"Sei-Sei?"
"Mm?"
"D'you... are you gonna marry Squall? Your Squall, the big one?"
Seifer's foot skidded on the ground. "Now what make y'ask that?" he finally said.
"'Cause, me'n my Seifer got married today," I said shyly.
He gave a small snort of laughter. "I remember that," he said, still not answering my question.
"So...?"
"So..." He shook his head, shaking me about a little as he did so. "I dun think so."
"Why not?"
"Can't. 'S against the law for one."
So, Quistis had been right. "But why?"
"I dunno. People jus' tend t'get upset about when guys get together wit' other guys."
I frowned. "Why's that?"
A shrug send me bouncing upwards momentarily. "'Cause people're idiots, I guess. Some folks jus' dun like same sex relationships."
'Same sex relationships' sounded scary. My notions about sex were vague at best; all I knew was it was something adults were supposed to do when they were in love and wanted babies. But you needed a man and a woman to do that -- well, as far as I was aware you did -- so where did that leave us?
"Do you love Squall?" I asked finally.
He sighed, resignedly, his voice taking on that strangely sad note it always did when we talked about my older self. "It's... complicated. But yeah, I guess so."
"Would you get married if you could?"
A long pause. I could tell Seifer was mulling over the question, trying to phrase his answer in a way that my five-year-old brain could process. "Pro'ly."
"But you can't?"
"No."
"Because it's against the law?"
"'S right."
"And stuff that's against the law is bad?"
He tensed. "Usually..."
"So, does that mean it's bad for you to love Squall?"
He stopped walking abruptly, picking me up off his shoulders and depositing me in front of him, crouching down so our eyes were almost level. "No, it ain't. And don't let nobody ever tell you that it is, al'right?" His hands were heavy on my shoulders. "Y'love whoever y'wanna love."
"Al'right," I said. Something in those sea-coloured eyes suggested that now was not the time for further argument.
"Good kid." He picked me back up, and we spent the rest of the night walking in silence.
My sixth birthday just so happened to fall on the coldest, stormiest day that winter had seen so far. The orphanage never got a lot of snow, but it would squall at us for days on end, the wind and rain and sea lashing at the cliffs and the little stone building, trapping us inside. It was on one such day, almost a year after Seifer and I discovered we shared the same dreams, that Matron decided to throw me a surprise birthday party. Everyone had been sneaking around for the past week and had I been more sociable I might have taken offence or discovered that something was up, but I wasn't so I didn't, instead simply going about my business. Thus it was indeed a huge surprise when Sis came to find me the afternoon of my birthday, a barely concealed grin on her face.
"Squall, you gotta come see!"
"See what?"
She tugged on my sleeve. "Just come!"
Who was I to argue with Sis? So I dutifully followed her into the darkened dining room.
"Sis... It's all dark, I can't -- "
"Surprise!" The lights snapped on and everyone leapt out of hiding, wearing silly hats and showering me with confetti and streamers.
I just blinked and continued to look at them sullenly.
"Happy birthday Squall!" said half a dozen different voices.
"It's... my birthday?"
"Trust you t'f'get yer own birthday!" Seifer brandished a plate full of something white and fluffy in my face. "Look! We get cake!" When my eyes focused on the plate under my nose I had to admit that, yes, it was indeed cake. It had strawberries on it. There was also plates of fairy bread and cupcakes and chocolate and jellied snakes and those mini sausage roll things which everyone hates but are always present at parties.
Still slightly bemused, and not at all sure how old I was supposed to be, I was ushered to a seat between Seifer and Sis as everyone began hoeing into the food. Even Matron was putting away quite a sizeable amount.
I was halfway through a bowl of stewed fruit when a large black box was deposited in front of me. It was tired up with a huge red bow, the card attached to it proclaimed it to be 'To: Squall', followed by a list of everyone at the orphanage under the 'From:'. I just stared.
Sis nudged me in the ribs. "Go on, open it."
"Yeah! I wanna see what it is."
"I bet it's something real cool... like a bike!"
"Nuh-uh! It's too small. I bet it's a train set."
"Uurrgh, how bo-oo-oring! I bet it's a book. A really big book."
Cautiously, I pulled at the ribbon, then ran my small hands over the smooth surface of the box. I had no idea what it could be. I gently lifted up the lid and peered inside.
A pair of golden eyes peered inquisitively back. I could just about make out the glistening of a nose underneath. The rest was entirely black. Tentatively I reached in, my hands finding something soft and furry. I pulled it out and looked at it.
"Wow! Cool!"
It was some kind of cat, almost like a lion but somehow... not. Despite being soft and cuddly, it still had small plastic fangs and seemed to be just on the verge of biting my face off should I prove to be an unworthy owner. I released the breath I didn't know I was holding.
"That's so-oo awesome, Squall! What'cha gonna call it?"
I didn't even have to think, because I already knew. Had known, I realised, before I'd even opened the box.
(be good to 'im, 'cause 'e 'sa cranky bastard)
"Griever."
And as I said it, just out of the corner of my eye, I though I saw Matron snap her head around sharply, looking at me with what I could have sworn was fear. It was gone as quickly as it had come.
"'Griever'?" Zell pouted. "That's a stoopid name. You gotta give him a cool name, like.. like... Fang, or... Leon or sommat."
"His name's Griever," I said, defiantly. I touched the fabric of my shirt, feeling the heavy chain underneath.
"Well I think Griever's a great name," Sis said defiantly as I clutched the toy to my chest.
Everyone agreed that if Sis thought it was a good name then it was, indeed, a good name.
The party continued for several hours after that, which nobody minded because it meant we got to stay up late and not do any dishes. It wasn't until we'd all gone to bed and the lights had been put out that I felt the familiar warmth creep in to snuggle down beside me. As usual, Seifer had brought Wark -- his slightly battered stuffed chocobo -- with him, and with four of us now inhabiting the bed it was beginning to get a little crowded. I shuffled over a bit until there was enough room for everybody.
Eventually, I heard the small whisper in my ear. "Squall?"
"Mm?"
"Happy birthday."
I just gripped onto him a little tighter.
"Squall?"
"Mm?"
"I... I got'cha a present... But'cha hafta close y'eyes."
I did so obligingly, feeling him shift his weight so he was closer, so close I could feel his warm breath on my lips. And then I could feel his lips on my lips, and my eyes flew open momentarily, only to flutter shut again as I leant into the kiss; an innocent caressing of lips. I marvelled at the gentle shivers it sent down my spine, provoking a warmth which started somewhere deep inside and travelled through the rest of my being. At his soft taste, still slightly minty from the toothpaste he'd used not so long beforehand.
I don't know how long it lasted, possibly only a few brief, heartfelt seconds, then Seifer pulled away hesitantly. "There," he said, almost as if daring me to challenge him over it.
I just nuzzled up against his chest, still flush with the strangely pleasant warmth, and promptly proceeded to go to sleep.
Things were good for a while after that, even if Matron was beginning to look altogether too worried all the time. Long strings of strangers came and went. Sometimes, Matron would have to use her magic to hide us all. It should have been frightening, but at the time it seemed like a great game.
That was, at least, until I woke up one day to find Sis gone.
It was also the day I finally met myself; standing out front of the building, talking to Matron about something complicated. I knew he was me because of the scar -- like the one my dream-Seifer had, only sloping the wrong way -- and the Griever pendant he wore around his neck. Seifer had been right; he was scary, and he did wear an awful lot of belts. He recognised me when I approached, and all I saw in his eyes a kind of shame and hostility I couldn't quite yet comprehend. So I didn't even try, instead declaring that I was going to go look for Sis and running off into the fields of wildflowers, needed to get away from those cold eyes and their dead glare.
I was crying by the time I reached the field, calling out Sis' name over and over again until I eventually broke down, falling to my knees in the flowers and sobbing uncontrollably.
Those eyes... Why had I looked like that? Why was I so angry?
That's when I heard the moan, followed by a long string of rather unflattering curses, most of them self-directed.
I could hardly believe it.
Gasping, I scrambled towards the all-too familiar voice and found him lying there in a pool of blood and crushed flowers. He looked awful, smelt worse, and had different hair, but it was him, it was Seifer; my Seifer, the one from my dreams. He was here, with me.
"Sei-Sei!"
"... the hell?" came the response as he suddenly found himself beset by a small child who was latched firmly around his torso.
"Sei-Sei, you came!"
"Squall?" came the tentative response. He dragged himself painfully into a sitting position, trying to focus on me with concussed eyes. "Well, shit... how y'doin' kid?" He gave me a broken smile.
"Sis is gone." Tears began stinging my eyes again.
"Hey hey now, don't cry..." he leant forward, pulling off a bloodied glove to gently wipe the tears away. His fingers were rough and calloused, but gentle. It felt strange to feel him touch me outside of the dream. Strange but nice somehow. "You'll get t'see yer Sis again."
I turned saucer-sized eyes up to him. "Really?"
"Fuck yeah," he sighed. "In fact, she's why 'm here."
"Really?"
"Yup. She says she'll come lookin' fer y' eventually. So inna meantime, you gotta be strong without her, al'right?"
"Al'right." I set my jaw into a determined line and got a ruffle of my hair for my efforts.
"Good kid." He was hit by a sudden coughing fit, doubling over in pain.
"Sei-Sei!"
He waved me off, and eventually the coughing and trembling subsided. "Aw, hell... Gonna be feelin' that one fer a while... Y'messed me up pretty bad..."
"...me?" I wondered if I'd heard him right. I'd done this to him? Why would I...
I remembered those eyes again; cold and dead and alien. I shuddered.
He seemed to notice, and squeezed my shoulder affectionately. "'S okay. Y'just did what'cha had to. But... stuff's good now. I think..." He looked off into the distance, back towards the orphanage. "Look, Squall, I can't stay here much longer. No matter how much I want to..." It was the single most coherent sentence I'd ever heard from him, and I was amazed to notice a single tear running down his cheek.
I gripped onto his hand tightly. "Don't go."
"I hafta... Can't... can't exist twice in the same time... The Lady'll kick me two miles from Sunday if I try, so I gotta go home now."
(the Lady)
There was something about that sentence that I didn't like. I bit my lower lip nervously.
He turned back to look at me. "But I guess I'll still be here really, hey?" Another broken grin. "So you be good, al'right?"
"Al'right."
"And be strong; fer Sis. Y'grow up good an' strong so y'can help her when she needs y' again." Pain and bitterness, but also resignation. He wasn't angry at anyone but himself.
"Al'right."
"Good kid. Gi's a hug."
I did one better, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. He looked a little surprised, but eventually just grinned. "See y'round, Leonhart."
"Bye..."
He closed his eyes, raising his arms up to the sky as if waiting to be picked up in giant arms and whisked away from everything. And he was, in a way, eventually just fading out until he was nothing more than a burn on the back of my retinas which vanished like so many ghosts when I next blinked the tears away.
He was gone, all the remained was a bloodied patch of broken flowers. I stared at it for a while.
"Gotta be strong. For Sis," I repeated, nodding curtly. Well, if that's what it took, then that's what I'd damn well do and let's just see anyone try and stop me. I marched back to the orphanage, covered in blood and tears but with a newly determined set to my jaw. My older self was still there when I returned, and I fixed him with a glare every bit as fierce as the one he'd given me. I think that threw him a little, and I allowed myself a small tinge of satisfaction. Matron noticed as well, and she gave me a funny look but didn't say anything. Much later I'd begin wondering exactly how much of everything she knew beforehand, but at the time it barely registered.
I rounded a vine-covered pillar, taking myself out of eyeshot and earshot of Matron and the older me. I saw Seifer there, intently watching the conversation. He registered me as I passed, eyes widening a little when he saw the blood caking my clothes.
"Sis...?"
I shook my head, instantly calming his rising panic. "You."
His eyes flicked to the older Squall briefly, and I nodded. He snorted. "I'll get'cha back f'that."
I nodded. He would, too. But not right now. Right now he was content to stay where he was. Besides, I really needed to get inside and find a change of clothes. Serves me right for hugging a bleeding man, I guess.