literature

Indelible - Section 2.2 (Draft)

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“I don't know what I'm doing here,” he said at last.

She reminded him, “You wanted to talk.”

The fleeting intrusion of comfort gave way to another surge of fear. His body reacted mechanically to the emotion, muscles relaxing deceptively, trigger-ready, alertness hardening his eyes. He pulled in a steadying breath. Talk about what? I can't think of anything. No, I can't explain anything I'm thinking. “Lost what I was gonna say.”

Rinoa bowed her head for a moment, shuffling her feet. “I wanted to talk, too.”

“So, talk.” It came out harsher than he'd intended. Hurriedly, he answered her frown, trying to soften his voice before it could freeze on him again. Say something. “Say anything.”

She began slowly. “All day, I've been thinking about...when I found you.” She leaned forward a little. “When you woke up.”

He tried to recall the moment she spoke of, and wondered if he looked as sick as he felt. I can't remember.

“You were almost gone,” she was saying. “For a little while, I was afraid you were.”

Then he did remember, but with relief came a staggering sense of guilt; why had there been any delay at all? The bottom of his throat ached. He shifted restlessly. He kept his eyes open to ward off any other image but Rinoa's face, let her words rouse the fight in him. “I'm here now.”

This brought her smile back, softer and tempered with worry. “You still have trouble remembering some things.”

“I remember,” he returned, too quickly. “It just takes me a second. It's getting better.”

She nodded once. “All those Guardian Forces we used, it happened to all of us. But the rest of us have recovered.”

“That thing blasted most of mine to hell. It hit me harder than the rest of you.” That's an excuse.

“That thing...Griever?”

A hollow pain tightened around Squall's chest. He made a strained noise at the suddenness of it, leaned his face into his hand. Violent images greeted him when he closed his eyes. Come on. He cut the air defiantly with his other hand, rejecting the leering fangs, the blood red claws... “That's not Griever. I don't know what it was.”

“Okay. I'm sorry.”

Breathing deep to try and clear the confused visions, Squall leaned once more against the door frame. Get it together. Rinoa was reaching for him, but she stopped when he looked at her, her hand halfway to him. Nothing's wrong... She said his name, but he didn't hear her, only saw her lips move as he stared at them through his fingers, wrestling with the panic pounding in his ears. Why is that so hard to believe?

“What's happening?”

He could hear her again, at least. Slowly, he let his hand down by his side. “I'm all right.”

“Then why do you look so scared?”

What's she getting at? “I don't--”

“They haven't really stopped, right? The nightmares?”

Squall looked to the side.

“Squall?”

What am I supposed to say? “Yeah,” he snapped. “You seem to think you already know the answers, so why are you asking?”

Rinoa curbed a hurt frown, her hand slowly retracting as she took a moment to compose herself. When she spoke again, there was tangible sorrow in her gentle tone. “I just want you to tell me what's happening to you.”

“Nothing.” Stop lying. He stared at the floor for a moment, then with great effort, finally met her eyes again. His voice was quiet, contrite. “I don't know.”

Rinoa waited expectantly, pointedly patient. When he offered nothing else, she reached for his hand. He let her take it, closed his fingers tightly around hers.

The connection helped. He always forgot that it did, and she always came to him first. He was grateful for that, but he wondered how frustrating it must be. She'd never complained. He wondered why.

“I was so relieved,” she told him, “when Dr. Kadowaki said you would recover. That first week in the infirmary, you didn't always make sense. You didn't want to go to sleep. You were terrified of it.”

It was terrifying. “My head was screwed up.” It's still screwed up. “You helped,” he added. “Staying by me, it helped.” Then, quieter, “Thank you.”

“My back still smarts. Stupid infirmary chairs.” Rinoa rubbed at her shoulder, but did not let the complaint distract her for long. “You've been so quiet, since.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Whatever comes to mind.”

His eyes fell to their clasped hands. None of it would be very pleasant to talk about.

Rinoa interrupted his brooding. “You still aren't sleeping.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I can tell. You always look exhausted.”

Sighing, he let go of her hand, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze as he stepped around her. “I sleep when I have to,” he conceded. He paced towards the window, where he stopped, staring out at the water. “Anytime I stop moving, it gets worse. So I do what I can to keep myself busy. I keep track of what I have to do every day, not that there's much. Spend time with you. ...That's most of it.” Arms folded over his chest, he focused on the soothing glow beneath the water, trying to make out the spokes of the propulsion ring.

“Most? Is there something else?”

“I try not to think about anything else...” He trailed off, shook his head, dismissing the consequences.

“So it's normal, everyday stuff,” Rinoa mused, “or lose yourself in what happened.”

He relaxed his arms and half-turned, stared at her from the corners of his eyes. “Something like that.”

“Does it help that I'm around?”

“...I think so.” I want it to help. It seems like it should.

She dared to approach him again and laid her hand on his arm as she had in the lobby. She felt him stiffen this time, heard his breath catch. It had been an increasingly common reaction of late. “I barely touched you,” she said gently.

“Sorry.” He shied from her worried look. “I'll probably do that sometimes.” It felt familiar, this awkward dance of concern and discomfort. He'd been through it enough to know his own pattern, and he was sorry already, having some idea how difficult he was going to be.

Rinoa didn't seem intimidated. Still holding his arm, she led him to the window, sitting down on the bench beneath it. Drawn by her gravity, he slouched as he sat beside her, staring at the floor, having difficulty looking at her, or making any expression at all.

She put her other arm around his back, carefully hugging him sideways. “Is this okay?”

“It's fine.” So far, he was only shaking himself apart inside. He tried to wait for an answer, but the pause was too maddening. “Should I be doing something?”

“Like what?”

He shook his head, feeling stupid. “I don't...” I don't know how to do this. I'm not in the best state of mind right now. “I don't even know what I want to do.” I should want something. I should have something in mind. I don't. I'm just blank. Three short, toneless laughs escaped him suddenly. “I'm pretty boring.”

He felt her breathe in deeply. “A lot has happened,” she said. “I don't expect anything back from you. Not now, and not ever. Okay?”

Never? Squall finally looked at her as he turned her statement over in his mind. “That's a pretty big sacrifice.” His surprise was evident; but at least, for a moment, he'd felt something though his fog.

Rinoa's eyes strayed in thought—in shame? He wondered—and she started to speak, but foundered several times. “It's important,” she said at last. “I don't want to say it in a way that upsets you. I've been thinking about it ever since they brought us back. Squall...remember when--” She shook her head at herself in frustration. “Um, bear with me.”

He nodded, expression grim, heart in his throat.

It had been courage, not words she had been searching for; they came out all at once. “Remember when I said that being around Seifer made me feel I could take on the world?”

He looked at the floor again. “Yeah,” he answered finally, his tone flat.

“That feeling was temporary. Without him around, it went away. It wasn't me.” She pressed an indicative hand to her collar. “It's like that for most people I know, and how they make me feel. It's a little scary, when you think about it.”

Relationships are transitory. Squall felt himself curl inward a degree or two. When someone you know leaves, whatever effect they were having on you starts to fade. Eventually...the only thing you can remember is that there's a void where something else used to be. He was still as stone, trying suddenly and desperately to remember places, faces, even monsters, anything to overwrite a too-vivid landscape of cracked, endless ruin. It was a fight every time, just to put the image away, and his mind droned on relentlessly, as if taunting him. You can't reach for what isn't there. You can't breathe in a vacuum. He shuddered, swearing he heard the sound of cracking glass. He shook his head, held his breath; finally the vision evaporated, and all he saw was the edge of his bed not far in front of him. He focused on Rinoa's voice when he heard it again, used it to pull himself back to earth.

“I think it's easy,” she was saying, “to feel the need to constantly reach out to people, just to make sure they're still there. Without the feedback, they seem to fade away. But...it's never been that way with you.” She squeezed his arm a little. “You stay.”

He blinked, surprised once again. It was easier to breathe, to answer. “…'Stay?'”

“Well...” She pulled one knee up. “Seifer made me feel powerful. Zone and Watts made me feel heroic and brave. With you it was different. You kept making me demonstrate everything. I used to think you wanted to cut me down.” She smiled, fell forward again, tilted her head so she could see his face. “It turns out there's a lot of power in being made to speak for yourself. Even when I hated it...” She toyed with the rings at her throat. “You don’t let the way you want things to be get in the way of how you see the world. As frustrating as that can be sometimes, I admired you for it...and it’s something that gripped me. I’d never tried to hold myself to that kind of standard, before. I had to answer a lot of hard questions...to make sure I wasn't just falling in with other people.” She smiled again. “I know what I'm really about, because of it. I don't have to rely on contrivances to feel confident. ...That's something you did, Squall.” She answered his skeptical expression with a proud nod. “You brought me out, the best parts. You never even had to touch me to do it. You were just yourself.”

The tightness in his chest eased the rest of the way. He breathed out and stared at the opposite wall, his tone far gentler than his words. “So what's your point?”

“What I'm trying to say, is...” She hesitated, went on carefully, “You're not denying me anything by not falling all over me, or not wanting to. When you were in the infirmary, I had a lot of time to think, and I realized...what's most important to me is that you're in my life, somewhere. We don't have to be lovers. I won't try to make you into someone you're not.” She focused again to meet the intense look he turned on her. “But I want to be here. You shouldn't have to face what's happened to you alone.”

He was still, quietly absorbing what she’d said to him. He sat up a little more, in doing so leaned his shoulders into her arm. “This isn't so bad, you know.”

She managed a small smile as she let go of a held breath. “But still hard on you?”

“A little. That's okay.”

Her voice quieted. “Is it what you wanted, when you came in here? At all?”

He looked at the floor again, but he didn't slump. “I think so.” He breathed deep, testing the weight of her arm, thinking how strange it was that a comforting hold like that could twist his guts up in so many knots. “You know, it was easier, before,” he said after the chill passed.

“Before?”

“Ultimecia.” The name dripped with his contempt, and he moved on from it quickly. “Maybe it was the urgency of everything.”

He went on, and Rinoa let him, listening; he was finally talking, more than he had in weeks.

“We might've all died,” he said quietly. “Or been her slaves. Nothing was certain, so it was easier. Go after you, keep you close, say what I meant to say.” He exhaled sharply, shrinking forward, his hand going to his face. “It was the perfect excuse.” Just for a while... Holding onto you was safer than letting go.

“Nothing's certain now, either. We have time to figure it out, right?”

That's it. “That's the problem.” He let his hand down. “There's more time, and more time means more chances for something to get screwed up. Given enough time, most things do.” He was staring at the floor again. “It's impossible to see that far out. I don't have any idea how to make it a sure thing.”

A cloud passed near the Garden, pitching the room into shadow for a held breath. When the shadow passed, Rinoa's eyes were still there, having never left him. “You're an all or nothing kind of guy, aren't you?”

He remembered to breathe. “I guess you could say that.” He weathered three more involuntary, silent jerks of painful laughter. “I'm messed up.”
Sorry the update took so long, but this snippet is much longer than the last, so hopefully the added content makes up for the wait. My goal is to have this story beat by the new year, although I'm not promising anything just yet. This second section is the meat of it, so it will be posted in chunks as I finish them. As stated before, I'll probably hold the last piece of it until I post it on FFN and AO3. 

Things getting a bit more intense in this part. Enjoy(?).

Read from the beginning:
Section 1 - Indelible - Section 1 (DRAFT)
Section 2.1 - Indelible - Section 2.1 (Draft)
© 2014 - 2024 LunaManar
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