Burned Out

As the dragonship climbed the sky, night fell around it. The raw tint in the air matched Ragnarok's armored hide as it roared past a landscape of looming clouds, their celestial halo tainted by the light of a grieving moon.

Squall wondered how long the bloody haze would last. Would the moon ever shine silver, again? It didn't seem like a useful question, but colors had been on his mind of late, and he was sick of seeing red.

Heavy metal doors closed behind him, blocking out most of the light. A narrow window in one corner of the empty storage room was the only beacon in the darkness. As distasteful as he found it, he walked in the direction of the glow. He did not, however, step into it.

He slouched in a shadow beside the cold strip of glass and pressed his face into his palm. ...Now what?

There was no chance to contemplate; he'd been followed. The doors ground open, revealing Rinoa's silhouette. “I'm probably bothering you, aren't I?”

His head felt too heavy to lift, so he trained his eyes on her instead. “It's fine.”

She stepped into the room, far enough to trigger the door to close behind her. She stood in the dark for a few moments, watching him. “I know I've said it before,” she said quietly, “but...thank you. For coming for me, again.”

I almost didn't. Squall found the strength to lift his head, though the only expression he could offer was one of bleak confusion. If no one had spoken up...would I have left you there?

She tried again. “Do you think they'll come after us? Esthar?”

That was easier: a direct question, and he felt the answer in his teeth. “If they do...” His face hardened and he prickled, heat rising in his throat. “We're not goin' down without a fight.” But even this simple bluster took effort, and spent energy he did not have. His shoulders quivered.

Rinoa held up a staying hand. “I won't ask you to hand me over to them again. That was...stupid of me.”

Released, Squall's gaze lost its focus, though he didn't quite look away. “It was understandable,” he said after a moment. “That stuff you said, about no one wanting to be around you? I was thinking about it, when you left.” He paused, fidgeted. “I've had enough important decisions made for me to know...it sucks.”

“Did you feel better when you decided to come back, anyway?”

Once again her words fueled him, and he burned the resulting passion in a single sentence. “I never felt better about doing anything in my life.”