Convergence [2]: Blood Roses

Hands on the altar for a charming spell,
Be sincere with persuasion.
Go ask your goddess if you've served her well.
She'll be climbing higher now.
-- Splashdown


~ 11 ~


Seifer found Rinoa in the centre of the unnatural jungle clearing, her chest heaving from her sprint. She was pristine despite the sweat-tangled ropes her hair had become, despite the pale crisscrossed scratches on her arms and the exhausted quiver of one knee. "Is it true?" Seifer asked, unnaturally nonchalant. Whatever time Squall decided to give him alone with her would be used as efficiently as possible.

Rinoa abandoned her halfhearted battle stance to a slump. "Is what true?"

"Is it true," Seifer casually clarified, "That you want nothing to do with me?"

The sorceress chose a frustrated nose-scrunch (she had at least one for every mood). "All I'm looking for is a fight," she said evenly, adding narrowed eyes to get her point across, "Don't complicate this."

Seifer shrugged and swung his blade from his shoulder to return it to his hip. "Judging by the looks of you now, you wouldn't be able to handle it."

Rinoa blinked a few times, opened her mouth, and didn't make a sound. Instead she strode over to a strategically placed pile of steel beams and hopped up onto the highest one to let her boots dangle above the grated floor like dead weights from her shins. "I should have known you'd make this as impossible as you do everything else," she told her shoelaces.

"You're the one who rampaged through here without a thought about how much it would exhaust you." Seifer sidled over with steps that would have been quiet had he not needed to cross a patch of steel to get to her side, "Without a thought about anything but your urges."

Rinoa flashed insulted eyes at him, "You don't know what it's like to starve like I have."

Keeping her in directly in his sight, Seifer leaned an elbow a foot away from her on the same beam. "A starving stomach can't handle a full meal, and a longing sorceress can't handle the freedom you've been given. You should have known better."

"Put a table of food in front of someone who hasn't eaten in weeks and see how much better they know," Rinoa grumbled, her lip pulled up in a very childlike snarl. "It's not my fault."

"You need help. I can help you. Squall can help you."

Rinoa shuddered and turned her head away to hide behind her hair. "He doesn't want to, and I don't want you to."

"Why?"

"I can see right through you. That's why."

"You think I'm here for me?"

"For all I know, you could be using me to get closer to Squall."

Seifer laughed quietly, and meant it. "I've gotten close enough to him on my own, thank you. I might be selfish, but I'm not incapable. It would be easier to say you've come between us."

"Then get the hell out of here. Heavens, don't let me get in the way."

"And what'll you do?"

Rinoa shrugged off the prod, sniffing quietly.

"I know what's going on in threttretty head of yours," Seifer empathized, "I know. You have no idea how much reading I've done."

The sorceress' laugh came out sad. "Yes I do. All the books you tried to get me to read. Couldn't understand that I didn't give a hoot about your obsession." She ed, ed, chewing on her lip out of Seifer's view. "If I'd only known I'd end up living it."

Seifer's voice dropped right to a whisper. "A war's raging in you."

"I can handle it."

Boy, was she ever starting to sound like Squall. Her feet became pendulums. Seifer refused to follow them with his eyes, sure she was trying to distract him. "Like you handled it today?" If Rinoa had taken that as the taunt it wasn't meant to be, she would have lashed out. Her feet swung a little harder and she pushed her hair behind her far ear, but that was all. "Whoever I was two years ago, that's not who I am now. I think you know that."

She nodded slowly, just to contradict it a second later, "That doesn't mean this job is right for you."

"I was born for it."

"Stop." Rinoa's knuckles whitened to snow atop the rusty red of the beam. Her legs fell dead. "I changed my mind. I don't want to fight you anymore. Go away."

Rinoa's presence crawled into the back of Seifer's throat. Her prickle walked across his forearms. He didn't even question whether she knew what she was doing. "It'll take a lot more than that to scare me off," he replied to her silent threat -- rather than frighten him, all it really did was urge him to cross the line of patience he'd drawn.

If Seifer's lack of fear surprised her, she didn't show it. "Mm, how much more?"

"More than you're capable of."

Rinoa hissed a short laugh. "You haven't seen a fraction of what I'm capable of."

"If that's true, why are you the one terrified?"

Slowly Rinoa's legs began to swing again, an off-balance rhythm she probably wasn't aware of. She sat up straight, bundled her hair in one hand and twisted it, throwing it over her far shoulder. Her head cocked at a distant tree, her features slack. "What else am I supposed to be?"

Quite a question, but it would have to be considered at a later time -- after Seifer's. "That's not an answer."

Rinoa silently scraped the rouge from her bottom lip with her teeth in what looked like a nervous habit. Seifer wished, just for a second, that he could remember if it was. "Do you even know the answer?" he pressed.

A lit cigarette hung between Rinoa's lips in no time. She dragged feverishly once, twice, and finally rested the heel of her hand on the girder beside her. "I know I won't let them go."

"You have to."

Shocking, how quick Seifer was to understand exactly who she was referring to. She drew a breath from her cigarette again and threw her shoulders back. "Why?"

"For your own good, and you know it," Seifer replied, more coarsely than planned, "You're the one who reached for me in the first place. It isn't fair of you to make me take all the initiative now."

Rinoa readied a retort and lost it, memory smoothing the angry lines around her eyes. Hopefully peace was coming to her, finally, because the game she was playing was getting tiring. "I scared Angie away," she mumbled. "All I have, and he's afraid of me."

He's not all you have, for fuck sakes. "Do you blame him?" Seifer prodded, ever still, ever calm, tension growing in his shoulders. It was time for Rinoa to deal with this, not change the subject.

"Not at all." The sentence came out of her in a listless breeze. Noticing a light sheen in her eyes, Seifer squinted and found exactly what he feared: that if something wasn't done, she would cry. He fucking hated thaltholthough details escaped him, he could feel the weight of unlabelled memory -- her tears were the only ones that had a chance at turning him soft.

And then it was too late: too much introspection on Seifer's part gave her time to do the same. Fat crystal gobs squeezed straight down her cheeks to darken her shirt from cottony black to midnight in lopsided ellipses. "Fuck," Seifer mouthed, wondering absently how long it had been since she'd been held, and cringing. "Give up this inner turmoil bullshit, will you? Both of you are enough to make me sick." The wet spots upon Rinoa's chest continued to multiply. "You're wasting your time, not to mention mine."

Probably fearing that he was threatening to leave, Rinoa proved that it had been as long as Seifer thought. She gushed a single sob and, dropping her cigarette in a way that showed she had forgotten she held it, tumbled from her perch and right into Seifer's chest.

Despite being twice her size, he had to keep himself from staggering backwards with the force of it -- of her mind tripping a switch and stabbing an icepick into the back of his head. Why did he always have to be the one people crashed into? He wasn't any good at this crap. And why the hell hadn't he brought those painkillers with him today? Oh, yes -- because he'd awoken almost too empty to even bother showering before tearing off to 'escort' Mr. Leonhart. That was it.

Gods, was she ever small, her little fists wrapped up in each side of his trenchcoat collar while she used his shirt as her very own tissue. "Squall's here," she quietly informed, and she was right.

His arms taut with indecision, Seifer turned just his head. Squall's eyes dropped right to the ground. "Come here," Seifer called quietly, the words striking Rinoa almost rigid enough to make him hold her back. Squall approached on imaginary shards of glass, his boots clattering awkwardly over the few metal patches he crossed.

When Squall was within three feet of them, Seifer took Rinoa's shoulder -- much smaller than his palm -- and pushed her away to take her chin and gently aim her face at Squall. "Look," he commanded. Squall forced himself to do so, wishing he had pockets big enough to shove his hands in, and Rinoa's lashes floated downwards to hide the red in her eyes. "How can you be afraid of this?"

Easily, if Seifer was referring to the fact that she was crying. Meek, trembling, flushed with tears on top of the silent shame they brought her -- she had always been a natural when it came to hiding her powers. Squall didn't want to see any more of it, so he looked at Seifer, then back at her again to avoid the expectation on his face.

Rinoa to dee deep breath and a small step backwards, just far enough for Seifer to let go of her chin. A determined swallow brought her voice back. "Squall?" Squall acknowledged her with a nod. "I, um..." She stared at her vigorously wringing hands and shuddered her way through a few more tears, "I--"

"Let's just get this over with, okay?" Squall interrupted in a long whoosh of breath.

Black sleeves rushed over Rinoa's eyes, but she didn't lift her head. Only Seifer saw the smile break across her lips. She cupped her hands in front of her. "Are you sure?" she asked quietly, her voice steady. Her crying withdrew just as quickly as it had started.

"Of course he's sure." Smiling too despite the pain in his head, Seifer raised his eyebrows at Squall. "Aren't you?" Squall nodded again.

Across the clearing, before the entryway to the untouched zones of the training centre, Zell crouched silently on his heels and fell back onto his bottom soon after, his ankles having shaken up quite a protest. This was big. Squall hadn't said whether he wanted him around for it or not, so he made it what he wanted it to be. If he needed an excuse to be there, standing guard was it.

"Then show some respect," Seifer ordered, placing a hand on Squall's shoulder. He was about to bring Squall down with a shin across the back of his knees when Squall knelt down of his own res, br, bringing a voluntary Seifer with him.

Not quite sure what was going on at the moment, Zell stretched forward but didn't succeed in getting a better look. Rinoa with beams behind her, Seifer and Squall on their knees before her, all still and silent -- so when he heard faint voices behind him, he heard them perfectly. Refusing to allow anyone to interrupt, he took to his feet and scurried stealthily into the next area, a finger over his mouth and his other hand waving about for attention.

His eyes went nearly as wide as Quistis' when he spotted her companion: a brown-haired woman dressed in green with a flimsy sarong wrapped around a heavier skirt, shoes with dainty heels, and no weapon: exactly what one shouldn't wear when venturing into a makeshift jungle. Zell almost shouted -- he hadn't seen her in ages.

"Rea Rin Rinoa asked, aloof with new mischief. Squall barely heard her over the drumbeat in his ears and Seifer the pain in his, but they both managed to nod once in time. "Thank the gods," she replied, tipping her head back.

Her wings sprouted forcefully, majestic and huge, visibly shaking her body with their vigor for freedom. Their few muted flaps upteupted the heavy atmosphere enough to blow Squall's hair out of his face, and he flinched before thinking.

"Hyne, that felt good," Rinoa groaned at the treecover. The few white bits of down she had shed floated to the ground and vanished as soon as they settled. Her two longest feathers -- one on each wing -- had darkened to a black more inky than her hair, and her companions gaped at the new stripes in silent surprise. "Dead Knights," she explained softly, "It happened when I lost my firsts."

Permanent scars in memory of failure. An image of Ultimecia flashed into Squall's mind's eye and he averted his physical ones to no avail -- Rinoa's wings stretched forward, past her shoulders, encompassing the men before her almost fully. "Touch them," she offered with a hint of frustration, expecting them to have already known. They'd both been through this before, after all.

Brown leather replaced the finger that had covered Zell's mouth, cutting short the gasp he emitted at the sight of Rinoa's wings. He nodded and Quistis dropped her hand, smiling for the first time since Zell had beckoned the women to follow him. The explanation Zell wanted to give was given instead by what they saw, and the one he wanted to hear would just have to wait until later. He pursed his lips to remind them to stay shut and settled down between the ladies to watch.

Seifer was the first to reach out inside their magical enclosure, his fingertip brushing soft feather spines as though trilling piano keys. He would have breathed a sigh of relief had he not been so sure of himself. Rinoa swatted his hand away after only a few seconds of contact and received a hurt look. "Imagine getting an itch inside your brain," she scolded, "That's what that feels like." Smirking, Seifer obeyed, dropping his arm back to his side.

Squall's turn. Although he wasn't surprised by the result, he was admittedly disappointed. His hand brushed right through the feigned reality of the feathers, bringing their pale tint with it when he withdrew. It curled like smoke before being slingshot back in place in slow motion.

"Try again," Rinoa urged, groping for any part of him she could latch on to. She'd used this before -- namely, to draw out Squall’s insomnia until she got her way.

"Give me a minute." Squall took a deep breath and tried his darndest to sort out his thoughts, to separate the past from the present, memory from reality. This very feeling had slowly but surely eroded their binding until he used his last stepping s and and slept with her.

"Okay," Rinoa allowed, impressively patient.

It didn’t bring them to higher ground as he’d hoped it would -- he awoke the next morning to find her as shallow as ever. To find that he'd failed. That it was over, and was never meant to be restarted.

its okay. They don’t intend to hurt you.

Although surprise threw Squall's eyes wide, the pulse he'd forgotten was raging began to calm immediately.

Sis?

I'm right here. Only a few feet away. We'll talk when this is over.

Squall threw more questions at her than could be mentally worded. She silenced, and it took him a moment of feeling betrayed to realize he didn't immediately need the answers.

"Are you alright?" Rinoa asked, "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have brought you into --"

"I'm fine. Everything's fine." Chewing his lip, Squall tried again. He dropped his hand the instant he felt resistance press against his fingertips. Rinoa was smiling at him, a fact he was aware of without looking at her.

"Good boy," Seifer congratulated, inadvertently helping Squall win the battle with his own smile.

Zell tugged anxiously at the hem of Ellone’srt -rt -- he couldn’t see or hear a damn thing. When she finally looked down, he squinted at her and mouthed, ‘What’s going on?’

Ellone smiled her petite smile and clutched the brown book she held a bit tighter to her chest. ‘Patience.’

A puddle formed in Rinoa's joined palms. It grew slowly (without slipping away between her fingers or sloshing over her thumbs when gravity dictated it should have) into a glassy pool rippled only by the circles of her pulse. Sorceress ice was nothing but enhanced water in this state, purer than any found elsewhere.

Seifer couldn’t tear his eyes from the makeshift cup moving towards Squall’s mouth: it was plain. Rinoa's fingernails were unpainted, shortened by habitual biting; her hands adorned not by jewels and silk but minor nicks and pale skin. Humble, honest. Real.

Rinoa's fingertips pressed coolly against Squall's lips. He drank hesitantly, but the eagerness with which it was done didn't matter. Power took to this water like static electricity to a balloon. A little kick, but perfectly fit for drinking, easy to swallow, which Squall did only once before bowing his relieved head. Everything to follow was just beginning, but this was over, and he was glad for it.

The sound of a muffled cough to his right woke him from his induced peace. Seifer held the back of his hand over his mouth, eyes squinted shut. Rinoa looked equally pained, and Squall couldn't for the life of him figure out what was wrong, or more accurately, didn't want to.

"You failed," Rinoa explained, her voice cracking. Seifer shook his head hard and dropped his hand.

"No I didn't," he replied adamantly, "I didn't. Just a--" he swallowed, "Headache."

Well, that wdd. dd. "You don't look good," Squall observed, surprising himself with how much he actually cared. "Better not back out of this."

Seifer fell back beneath the curtain of his smirk, but he couldn't hide the light sheen that had broken on his forehead. "Let me try again."

Rinoa exchanged worried glances with Squall before granting Seifer's request. He didn't sputter or even flinch, tense and still all the way through.

The pain broke on the waves dashing into Seifer's mouth, leaving his mind sharper and more lucid than before it had come. He couldn't help letting the sound of his own taunting laughter echo through his mind to help chase his demons back into hiding.

Seifer had won, for now, at least. He bit back the few laughs that tried to escape into the open.

The remainder of the water vanished from Rinoa's hands, leaving them dry. Her wings pulled back, folded behind her, and disappeared. The cicadas restarted their song.

"One more thing," Rinoa said, somehow locking both of their gazes before they could turn and look elsewhere.

"Anything," Seifer replied. Squall looked on silently -- he was a Knight again, and it didn't even feel weird. The only thing that felt weird was how un-weird it all felt, like nothing had changed at all. Something told him this ease wouldn't last long.

Rinoa grinned -- almost dirtily, very disturbing -- and daintily took a chin into each of her hands.

"This isn't part of the ritual," Seiwarnwarned approvingly as he and Squall were turned to face one another.

"Oh, I know." Rinoa crossed her arms, "I just think it's hot."

Zell managed to muffle his own gasp this time as he watched them kiss. Romantic, that was, slow and teasing and a lot hotter than anything Rinoa had probably expected to see. Rinoa actually caught Zell's look for a moment, her eyebrows reaching a comical altitude before she turned back to them to see the end of it.

A hand squeezed Zell's shoulder, bringing his attention to the sympathy on Quistis' face -- she must have misinterpreted the awe slackening his features. "I know how you feel," she offered, and frowned with surprise when Zell smiled.

"No, you don't." Zell countered, topping off the reassurance with a baffling wink.


~* O0 o 0O *~


Training centre creatures had a special gift -- a learned tendency to stay away when unwanted that had become instinct long ago. That may have been what kept them away from the group as they conversed, though more likely, it was simply a matter of having seen Rinoa's wrath and knowing better.

If the monsters were truly smart, they would have understood her silence and realized how unthreatening she had become, seated with her back against steel and her face hinting at an airy smile. Angelo, who had returned to her side not three seconds after she sat down, looked equally content. If he were a cat, he would have been purring.

Seifer had assured Squall at least six times already that he hadn't anything to worry about. The exhaustion she was stricken with was natural after what she'd done to herself, a fact Squall already understood. He still couldn't help looking over at her, hoping to get a nod from her at least once, while listening to Ellone explain her unplanned appearance and apologize again for breaking into his thoughts in direct breach of the agreement they had made.

It was a rare thing to see Ellone angry, and when she was it was far from obvious, so much so that she had to proclaim it aloud. "I'm so angry at him!" she repeated, pausing her pacing. "I swear, Squall, if he'd told me --"

"You would have looked for us," Squall assured quietly, shifting. The log propping him up was far from smooth. "I know. I'm sure Laguna had his reasons for not saying anything."

"Namely, he's overprotective," Quistis interrupted from behind the broad shoulder she had been reading over. "How long's it been since he's even allowed you to come with him to see us?"

Seifer, oblivious to the conversation around him, turned one of The Sorceress and Her Knight's heavy pages, and Quistis eased her face into her reading glasses.

"Since last summer," Ellone replied, "He only brought me this time because I screamed at him. And if he finds out I just used my talents on Squall he'll drag me right back."

Zell made a taken-aback sound, "You screamed?"

Ellone smiled down at him, "I can when I have to."

"Thank Hyne that little Dorian boy has Laguna distracted. Without him, I wouldn't have been able to bring Ellone with me," Quistis added, "And Seifer, you haven't said a word to anyone yet. I think you owe me a 'thank you.'"

Seifer grunted and turned another page, and Quistis gained a look that confirmed she was convincing herself not to kick him.

"How long are you staying?" Squall asked, forcing indifference into his tone as he stole another sidelong glance at Rinoa. She was sitting much too far away, outside the lopsided circle he and the others formed. He would have said something about it had Angelo not been so vigilant.

"As long as I can." Ellone sat down beside Squall, Zell's knee bouncing subtly to her other side, "... If that's alright with you, Mister Bigshot." The tease nearly brought a smile out of Squall, who dragged his eyes back from Rinoa to stare at his own knee.

"Of course it's 'alright with me,'" he replied, "Though Laguna's gonna have your head for running away without telling him where." It was too easy to imagine him scouring the halls in a panic, thinking someone had stolen her away again. "... Maybe you should go let him know you're okay."

"I left him a note, said I was taking a nap. No worries."

Mumbling something intelligible, Zell stood. "I'm gonna go find something to beat the crap out of." Spotting Squall's warning glance, he grinned and added, "Chill. I won't take out more than five before I go, deal?" He took off before Squall could agree.

Ellone leaned close to Squall's ear. "I knew he always had a thing for you," she whispered, and he had to follow her eyes to Seifer to figure out who she was talking about.

"He didn't," Squall replied quietly.

"How do you know?"

Squall shrugged. It was a good question. He wanted to change the subject. Fortunately, Ellone did it for him: "You know what makes me the most angry?"

"Hm?"

"That Laguna wasn't willing to let me risk a tiny bit of my own safety to tap into you and find you. And that risk only exists if anyone in the world's interested in me, and if they can tell when I'm using my gift. No one's been able to sense it before." She sighed out some of her frustration, "As I already told Quistis on the phone --" Quistis looked up at the sound of her name, and quickly returned to her peering "-- I don't know how he got it into his head thomeoomeone might, but now that the idea's there, he won't let it go."

Squall had wondered about that favouritism -- briefly enough to keep it from bothering him. "It wouldn't have made a difference. I wouldn't have been able to tell you more than what everyone else knew."

"You could have told us you were alive."

And how would that have helped? They would have kept searching for his body if he wasn't. "Doesn't matter. We're alive, and we're here." Squall would have had someone to talk to, though. Someone to keep him sane, keep him from embarrassing himself with Seifer's gunblade. But then, that same someone might have checked up on him at a very inopportune time -- and with the thought he realized that was far too costly a price to pay for the company of conversation. "It all turned out fine."

Across the way, Seifer blinked hard. Reading was giving him an altogether different headache than his usual. He'd need glasses eventually -- and had decided long ago that he wouldn't get them until he was blind.

"A-hem."

Seifer opened his eyes to find a pair of glasses hanging from a cluster of fingers before his face. After smacking Quistis' hand away, he closed his book and snapped, "I can see, I'm just tired of you reading over my shoulder like a damn giraffe."

Quistis slipped her glasses back into her pocket. "You always squinted at the overhead projections. Don't try to tell me it was only because you refused to sit anywhere but at the back of the classroom."

Although the invitation to squabble was tempting ('The greater the distance from you the better'), Seifer had something more important to concern himself with. Unfolding the sheet of paper he had rescued from the elevator floor, he turned to Squall. "Pen," he demanded, holding out his hand.

Squall crinkled the line between his eyes before the word struck home and, unperturbed by Seifer's rudeness -- Quistis always got him into a mood -- dug out the battered ballpoint he had placed in his back pocket for exactly this reason. Seifer eyed it with interest, pausing to roll it between pointer and thumb. The cap was gnarled and twisted, pitted with impressively deep tooth marks. "Developing quite an oral fixation, aren't we?"

Squall's eyes bored holes in Seifer's back as he walked away.


~* O0 o 0O *~


Zell didn't mind. He knew that deep down and inside out because he'd tried as hard as he could to make himself mind, just because it was so weird no car care. Well, no, that wasn't true. He cared, just not in the way he was supposed to.

Rinoa had been reading to the others for who knew how long and Zell, who had only been listening for an hour in his shadowed kitchen chair, wasn't bored -- also weird. They weren't either. There was Squall, stretched out between Seifer's knees on the sofa, and there waiferifer with his chin beside Squall's ear, both of them studying Rinoa like every syllable dropped another vital piece of the world from her painted lips.

The only thing that regularly moved besides Rinoa's mouth and the turning pages was Seifer's hand, lazily enough atop Angelo's head to make it seem he had forgotten he was petting him. An incredible thing, how easily Angelo had warmed up -- he'd just marched on over to them as soon as they sat down and bumped his nose into Seifer's dangling hand. Seifer waited for Rinoa's permission and a few more nudges before he allowed himself to respond. He hadn't stopped yet.

Rinoa was a good reader, Zell had to admit. The stories were ancient, the language centuries old and positively easy to make boring, but Rinoa seemed to understand every complex sentence and uncommon word in perfect context, lilting and hushing in perfect harmony with the words on the page.

Any hope that the texts would restrain Squall and Seifer from idolizing Rinoa too much was unfounded. The book did that itself, as though it had been written by a woman with a horrendous case of PMS and a deplorable disrespect for the needs of men in general. It had probably been written by men who were Knights themselves.

Adingding to it, Rinoa was the chalice that bore their lives. According to it, as far as Squall and Seifer were concerned, they were sitting before Hyne herself, and they themselves only existed to serve her. When Rinoa came upon declarations like those (repeated to the point of propaganda) she would giggle or grin her way through them, and Seifer would make some kind of sarcastic sound. Squall was a statue throughout, though Zell was sure it wasn't a facade -- Squall just had plenty to think about.

Zell didn't mind because when the night was over and everyone else left, he was the one with whom Squall would share his bed. His was the ear that would be filled with whatever was running through Squall's head as he sat in statuesque silence. Zell hoped for that, at least, and he hoped that by listening he would be able to get a little bit closer to understanding what they were all going through.

They had taken quite a burden onto their shoulders, expected immediately to perfect the equilibrium of knowing when and how to protect her from the world, and the world from her, and her from herself. When Zell silently reconfirmed his devotion to being a strong shoulder in case it was needed, he opened that promise to everyone presently sitting before him.

It wasn't that he would ever have turned Seifer or Rinoa away if they wanted to talk; he hadt tht thought before that Squall was the only one who might need him. Mahe whe was wrong, still, and the others would do just fine on their own, especially Rinoa. But Zell was the only one who saw the occasional pained expressions on Seifer's face, the way he would close his eyes or bow is head every time Rinoa mentioned something about dreaming or about the ties bound to grow between them that were incomparable to any felt between 'common' people.

Bad memories, probably; that, or frustration at not being able to remember at all. The whole lot of Seifer's claims smelled not-quite-right, but Zell wasn't about to bring up the issue for clarification. If Seifer did, fine. Not that he would.

When Rinoa finally placed the ribbon that hung from the binding between the pages and closed them on it, gradual realization hung heavy for a cluster of moments, each individual afraid to make the first movement and confirm that it was over. Rinoa finally did so, placing the book on the cushion near Squall's feet and moving from her armrest perch to her own feet with some of her usual grace abandoned. She stretched her arms up over her head before she spoke. "It's late," she said, then glanced at the lit stove clock for accuracy and struggled through a yawn, "Almost midnight."

"You're leaving?" Squall asked quietly. His tone was pleading, but not enough to make him regret using it. Watching her had been enjoyable. Listening to her speak, even when he occasionally lost track of what shs sas saying, was addictively hypnotic. He wasn't ready for it to end. "Already?"

Seifer chuckled against Squall's back. "It'll get easier," he assured, finally taking his hand from Angelo's head to rest it atop Squall's midsection beside his other. "You remember. It got easier for you before, didn't it?"

Sure it had, but this wasn't the same. This passion was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time -- Squall just needed to watch her, and hear her, and have her nearby every hour of the day. But not touch her, not in any way. He was unworthy, and it was an ironically satisfying feeling, because she was there despite the fact. "I don't know if... if I can --"

"You didn't understand how it worked before, Squall," Rinoa's voice was sympathetic, but she didn't sit back down. "Neither did I. We both jumped in without a clue."

"Remember the second poem she read?" Seifer continued for her, "About the young couple that engaged in the union because they thought they were falling in love?"

Squall nodded and tipped his head back. According to the text Seifer was referring to, that was a big no-no; though that specific case took place in an altogether different time (if it had actually taken place at all), and had ended in a dual suicide.

This wasn't supposed to be so difficult. Squall had thought the last time he felt like this that it came from himself, because of Rinoa, not because of her magic. What he felt then was not supposed to come back, but here it was in its near entirety.

Still, Squall refused to cheapen the time he'd once invested by blaming it on getting on his knees to drink some water. Some of the attachment had been brought on by who she was. Rinoa had helped him, and he her. They'd done one another a lot of good before his title of Knight even came into play.

It was just that, three quarters of an hour ago, he had been taught that they probably wouldn't have lasted nearly as long as they did without the extra influence, and because of that influence, were bound for failure anyway.

The news was sobering, and it had brought some peace, but Squall still felt drugged. This involved so much more than marginally enhanced divining skills. He wasn't sure he was ready -- so unsure that he almost wanted to give in to panic.

"I'm feeling it too, in case that helps." Of course she was. So was Seifer. Squall already knew that. Rinoa reached over and stroked Squall's hair a few times, "Time apart is the best thing."

As soon as she said so, it was. "Yeah." Maybe being in her presence was what made it hard to imagine her gone. Squall didn't know, nor could he pinpoint exactly when that mental switch flipped over from vague crn trn to practical obsession. "Get some sleep," he instructed no one in particular. They would all go to bed, and dream, and let their brains sort out this new truckload on their own and, if the stories had been worth the time spent listening to them, everyone would wake up rebalanced in the morning.

"I should escort you," Seifer offered, then corrected, "We should. The halls are --"

"Empty," Rinoaliedlied, "And I have Angelo." That she did. She was at the door with her dog by her side in a heartbeat. "By the way, I don't want you to think my challenge is cancelled just because I was tired today," she said with a smile as the door slid open for her. "I want you both to show up well rested tomorrow."

"Someone has to make sure you don't turn the training centre into a crater," Seifer half-joked. Rinoa crinkled her nose at him, a humorous gesture this time. Squall pushed up and creakily stood as soon as the door sliced her from his view.

"Bed," he mumbled, looking forward to sleeping the feeling away. If he was only ready for one thing, it was letting his brain sort out his thoughts without his anxiety to hinder it. Zell wasn't in the kitchen when he passed through, leaving Squall to figure he'd gotten bored and gone off to sleep early.

It wasn't until Squall was in his hallway that he felt Seifer following him, unless he had known Seifer was there along and just took a whio reo realize he wasn't supposed to be. Even that was tough to discern. "What are you doing?"

"Following you," Seifer pointed out pointlessly.

"Go home. That's what she said." The clipped sentences didn't want to leave Squall's mouth -- that was why they were clipped. "Time apart." Seifer didn't say anything. "If it's good for her, it's good for us."

"That's a different story. We don't have with her what we have with one another." Squall tensed his shoulders up, wanting more than anything to pull Seifer into that bed and fall asleep with a body on either side of him. "... But you're right. I should have been the one to say it first."

"See you tomorrow," Squall muttered, refusing to look at the blond in the hall for fear of being unable to look away again and searching for the one in his bed with eyes unadjusted to the darkness. Seifer backed away silently, and Squall found it very difficult to click the door back into its jamb.

Contrary to Squall's prediction, Zell awaited him wide awake. "How y'feeling?" he asked, already facing the door.

Squall threw his shirt aside in an awkward motion and climbed thoughtfully out of his pants. "Lopsided."

Taking his turn to be thoughtful, Zell shuffled backwards to give Squall room. "What's that mean?"

"I don't know." Squall almost purred when he slid into the pocket of warmth Zell had left for him. "Maybe I'll know tomorrow," he added, his voice already laced with sleep. He could smell Zell on his pillow. Different shampoo than his, he remembered. Then he remembered that morning's shower and pressed his face a little harder into it.

The mattress tipped as Zell moved close and, before thinking about it, Squall rolled onto his back and held up an arm to stop him. "Not tonight."

"What? I wasn't --"

"I know." Squall didn't want to be touched at all. Not even by Zell. He tried not to sound bitter as a cool dampness spread somewhere inside him. "I don't want..." he began, but he could see Zell's eyes enlarging with disappointment even though his own were closed. Okay, compromise. Not all-out cuddling, but it would have to do. Squall was starting to feel a little sick anyway.

He guided Zell's arm near to his belly, and Zell seemed to react with instinct, fitting his hand exactly where it had been the last time Squall needed it. "You sure you're okay?"

Squall waited a little while, pretending he was considering his answer. "No."

"Can I do anything?"

"You are."

When the figure-eights of Zell's fingertips finally stilled, time stilled with them in a very familiar, very unwelcome way. Squall lay with his head to the side, watching veils of winter cloudcover tease at the moon without ever quite leaving it bare. Each time it became just bright enough to show on the walls, Squall would tear away to watch them highlight a sleeping face whose owner deserved much more attention than he could give.

Squall was thinking about Seifer, even more than about Rinoa, and not about Zell. Maybe that was why he felt such a deep need to watch him, to make up for his straying thoughts with a fixed gaze. And then, of course, there was the simple fact that Zell was so pleasant to look at.

It was odd -- though the others occupied his thoughts, Squall couldn't run through any particular memory or imagined scene to look forward to tomorrow. It was just them, everything and nothing at once in an all-consuming way that buzzed nonsense words and would have been dull to anyone able to read his mind.

Sleep tugged at his eyes, but he refused to close them for a reason he couldn't explain. If he did, he would have fallen asleep, but he couldn't.

"Go see 'im," Zell mumbled warmly.

Squall jumped, just a little twitch of the muscle under Zell's fingers. "How did you know I was awake?" He should have known Zell was a good actor, what with the impressions he constantly entertained himself with in his earlier teens.

"You breathe different when you sleep. I was waitin' for you to fall asleep first." Zell's eyes opened, glinting as the moon placed a little star in one corner of each. "Go see Seifer," he clarified, soft with peace rather than sadness, "He's got something I can't give you, and you need it right now." Squall opened his mouth to speak, but Zell wasn't done. "Third lift to the right when you get outta yours."

Squall covered the hand on him with his own. "Only if you know... Only if you know you have something he can't give me either."

"'Course I know that." Zell's smile added another star to his lip. "Otherwise you woulda got rid of me forever ago." He slowly wrenched his hand back from the warmth that flanked it, "Get out, right now. Don't make me turn that into an order, because it would be damn weird."

If Squall hadn't known better, he would have accused Zell of using reverse psychology on him. The words just made him want to stay. He gave Zell a two-handed melting type of kiss and whispered a "thank you," wishing he knew how to refer to more than this gift of permission.

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