Hurt

Disclaimer: the characters and places contained herein do not belong to me and I make no claim or money from this. I can’t even claim responsibility for most of the idea because it came from both Race Ulfson and the song “Hurt” covered by Johnny Cash.

With many thanks to Pixie for betaing, Acid Rain and Astraea.

This fanfiction is dedicated in its entirety to Race Ulfson, also known as the beta babe who usually previews all my stuff and tells me where I’ve screwed up.


Hurt.
For Race.


Far away as I shoot across the sky
Far away to the corners of my mind
Sooner or later it will slowly come back to me
Dishwalla – Far away


Zell unfastened the handcuffs before he let Squall into the SeeD car. He didn’t think Squall would try to escape now, even if he was going back to a possible disciplinary procedure.

Somehow he couldn’t bring himself to look at the pale shadow that Squall had become in previous years. Even as Squall slipped inside, taking his usual position on the couch, Zell couldn’t look at him.

It wasn’t his Squall sitting there. That wiry creature wasn’t the Commander he’d admired any more, and it certainly wasn’t the handsome figure he’d followed into battle without question back when they’d been tasked with saving the world.

He’d watched Squall get lost in a bottle. He’d seen him fall apart and had been forced to stay on the outside while Squall slowly died behind his crumbling walls and cracked ice. None of them had been able to say anything to help him at all; he’d even tried to, wanted to die. And now Seifer had stepped in and managed to achieve what none of them had in only a matter of days?

It made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Why him?" Zell asked finally. Surely Seifer, no matter what they had once had together before the war, couldn’t be forgiven for what he’d done to garden. To Squall himself.

Squall didn't seem to hear at first, his blue grey eyes opening slowly and turning to look at Zell. Somehow he'd always felt as though Squall could have seen straight into his soul with those eyes, if he'd bothered to look. Perhaps not now, but back when he was still the focused and precise commander of the most powerful mercenaries in the world. He really had fallen quite some way.

"Why Seifer, you mean?" Squall shifted in his seat, unable to prevent a wince as his shoulder protested the movement. Seeing that brief frailty in a man who had ignored broken ribs during the war just so they could keep going another couple of miles was killing him. Of course, Squall had been junctioned then. He'd had Shiva to give him strength and now he had nothing left at all.

To not be able to prevent that brief grimace, even now meant that it must have been agony for him. And seeing it was just as hard for Zell himself. However he was under strict instruction from Cid himself not to heal Squall until he'd been fully debriefed and examined by doctor Kadowaki.

Zell found himself nodding, though he really didn't want to know any more.

"Sometimes I wonder about that myself," Squall mused. "He annoys me, he's arrogant, he's controlling and I love him more than I can say. Maybe it's because he doesn't expect me to be a hero. Maybe it's just because he makes sense to me."

"He sure as hell never made sense to the rest of us."

Squall gave him a half smile, weak and tired, and lifted his good shoulder in a short shrug. "Whatever."

Watching the brunet as he cradled his injured arm against his chest, brushing his fingertips against the cool silver choker around his throat, Zell sighed. The report that had come in from Galbadia General played on his mind, of someone being bought in by a SeeD who’d fitted Seifer’s description. When he’d seen it he’d had to read it three times just to be sure he hadn't imagined what he'd seen.

The description of the patient had been Squall, word for word. Even the dyed black hair, something he'd done for the undercover mission the last day he'd been at Garden. Zell hated the way that colour had washed Squall out. The blood work up in the report had been alarming enough to send him to Doctor Kadowaki for an explanation. She'd been the one to take it to Cid. When Squall returned, he would have a lot of explaining to do. Not only for that but for the problems his arrest had caused.

Zell found his gaze drawn to the bracelet fastened around his wrist. A gift from his girlfriend, a long time before.

He felt guilty, that he hadn't been able to solve whatever problems had driven Squall down this path. "Why?" he asked softly, his hands balling into fists in his lap. "Why'd you change so much? Was it because you were lonely?"

"Will it make you feel better or worse if I say yes?"

A humourless grin twisted Zell's lips. "Worse, I think."

"Then I'd better not answer," Squall turned on the couch, stretching his legs along the seat and leaning back. He looked tired, even more pale and drawn than usual. There were dark circles under his eyes, and Zell was half sure he looked just as bad himself; since he’d arrived at the police station he’d had little sleep either.

He was truly afraid for his friend. Seifer had tortured Squall, tried to destroy the world… and Squall had kissed Seifer as though nothing at all had happened between them.

It seemed as though there were nothing he could do about it just yet, however. Squall Leonhart was, if nothing else, stubborn to a fault. He was also – much to Zell’s constant disappointment – completely in love with Seifer Almasy.

Squall sighed softly. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his good arm carefully around himself. His injured shoulder continued protesting that meagre movement and he tutted quietly to himself. He wanted to rest, sleep with the soft, repetitive, even clatter of the train’s wheels upon the tracks soothing him towards slumber.

He allowed his mind to wander, distant thoughts of Seifer keeping him awake. Of course, he had admitted enough to get Seifer off the hook and centre the blame on himself. Since it was a SeeD job, there was a certain amount of understanding between the gardens and the “real authorities” – usually if you let us do our jobs we’ll let you do yours – and he’d been placed under Balamb’s care for his punishment. Though what that entailed exactly, he had yet to find out.

Why Seifer? The question was more troubling than Squall had first thought. Perhaps not troubling exactly but he couldn’t come up with any more reason than because it felt right.

However, perhaps that was all he really needed.


The heat and the constant fall of water felt so good as Seifer turned his face to the pounding spray. However, no matter how hot it was, it couldn’t take the chill from his skin any more.

The last time he’d showered, days before now, he’d been with Squall. He’d touched Squall, tasted him, felt his body tight around his fingers as his lover had spilled into his mouth. He’d been happy, even if it had only been for a short while.

However, as usual, Squall Leonhart had managed to screw him up completely with barely any effort. All he had to do was breathe and Seifer could fall for him, head over heels. Their history, their rivalry, their love was as close to perfect as he could imagine it. If only everything else would stop getting in the way, he knew for sure they could be happy together.

Garden was their biggest problem. The rules and regulations that had placed restrictions upon their relationship had hindered them, as well as Squall’s own reluctance back then. Now Squall was a different creature, a different opponent altogether and was being snatched away from him – by garden – yet again.

It made him angry enough to slam his fist against the tile of the shower wall, growling wordlessly. The brief flash of pain bought him some clarity, and he sighed, shutting the water off and reaching for one of the stiff hotel towels.

Suddenly life had decided to remind him how little control he had over it really. It had kicked him, knocked him down, made him hurt and torn Squall from his grasp. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to go after Squall, go and take him back from the world that could wind up killing them both.

He would give Squall time to come back to him. Two weeks. Time to deal with whatever Balamb Garden was trying to throw at him this time. Then – if hedidn’t come back – Seifer would waltz in, smack Xu around for taking Shiva from Squall in the first place, and rescue his lover like the damsel in distress Seifer knew Squall was.

Well, he was a knight after all. Retired or not..

Drying off, he crossed to the bed. It was amazing how a matter of mere days could destroy his life.

With Squall so far away, he felt… empty. Lost. The double bed seemed so large when he had to sleep in it alone, so much so that he would have given anything to have Squall back – even if it meant saddling himself with that cranky, pissy bitch Squall had been the first night he’d awoken. It seemed so very long ago, so much had changed between them and so much had happened that it felt like months, not days, had passed since he’d bought Squall home from Galbadia General.

Glancing down at the Griever ring as though it could offer him some answers or comfort, Seifer sighed again. “I need you,“ he whispered. Even that admittance sounded hollow in the otherwise empty room, though he meant it with all his heart. I miss you, Leonhart.’

Griever held no answers for him. He slid the ring off and placed it carefully on the bedside table, too afraid of losing or damaging his sole remaining tie to Squall to wear it while he slept, then crawled between the sheets.

Stretching out on his back, pulling the covers up as high as he could, he stared at the ceiling. Four years of being alone had only made those few nights with Squall seem all the sweeter. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so alone, so tired, so empty as he did at that moment.

Rolling onto his side, his eyes caught the glitter of Squall’s ring in a pool of moonlight from the hotel window. Griever’s face, permanently twisted into a silent roar, seemed to stare at him, mocking him. Asking him where his true owner was. A sudden chill had him tugging the blankets beneath his chin and he turned away from the ring, eyes closed tightly.

Who knew where his lover was now, or what he was going through with Garden. He was not in control of the situation… and it was killing him.

Silently he begged Squall to come back safe to him.

‘Or… hell, Leonhart. Just come back.’


Squall’s head throbbed evenly, a dull ache that made him feel worse and worse as the hours dragged on. His shoulder was fortunately numb, still cradled carefully in the sling that Kadowaki had wrapped him up with some twenty four hours before. They had not been permitted to heal him with magic – after his return to Balamb Garden, Cid had wanted to ensure that he did remain on the school grounds until he could speak to the wayward SeeD – and it had been a good thing.

When Kadowaki had opened him up she’d found the damage had been worse than first assumed by Galbadia General. His clavicle had splintered in that first attack; his muscles and ligaments had been torn by the shards and the heavy blows. As it had been left for days before the first touch of magic, it would have to heal on its own now or he would never regain the strength he had possessed before that night in the alley.

Twice they’d had to cut into him, removing slivers of bone and glass, wiring his clavicle to keep the destroyed bone together. He was looking at six months before he could pick up Lion Heart again. He deserved it, and he readily admitted that. Having been trying to kill himself indirectly and directly for almost four years he was no longer worthy of holding the blade. Six months without her was nothing for what he had done.

Seven days. It had been seven long days since he had left Seifer behind at the Deling City police headquarters. Seven days since he’d kissed the man goodbye, one week since he’d pushed the griever ring into Seifer’s palm so that he would have something to remember Squall by. Staring down at his bare hands, he realised that he felt more naked without the silver ring than without the leather gloves he usually favoured.

The heavy choker around his throat however, was almost as reassuring as an embrace from Seifer Almasy himself.

After only days in the tall, arrogant and handsome blond’s company, he was already so in love with the man that it was killing Squall to be parted from Seifer. The feeling was frightening – the familiar need and desperation for Seifer’s company and Seifer’s body was horribly strong. With the painkillers, interviews and the debriefings he’d barely had any time to himself in which he was lucid. And despite trying several sources, he had been unable to contact Seifer.

Squall wanted to hear Seifer’s voice so badly. He wanted to bury himself in Seifer’s embrace and hide there forever. He wanted to feel Seifer’s pulse hot and strong beneath his fingertips but he was a thousand miles away and it felt like there was an ocean of time keeping them apart.

He wasn’t sure why he’d fallen so quickly, so easily back in love with Seifer. Squall half believed he’d never truly fallen out of love with his rival, even if he had expected to hate him too much to ever need him so badly again.

Seifer had changed. He was still dangerous, perhaps even more so now because of the tenderness of his touches – the gentle sweetness to him that belied his swift hot temper. Squall knew that if Seifer left him this time, it really would kill him.

If he hadn’t already left, of course.

He’d sworn to return as soon as he could but every day that he couldn’t contact Seifer was like a knife in his heart. He feared the lack of contact would make Seifer believe he’d deserted him.

“Squall?” Quistis interrupted his thoughts, making him look up at her. “Cid’s ready to see you now.”

Giving her a half smile to show his thanks, he rose to his feet. “Well, here goes.”

“You look better, Squall,” she smiled. Her hair was down today – long silky waves of burnished gold that softened her features, making her look all the more beautiful. Squall regretted making her cry, hurting her over the last few years of his life. “You look… I don’t know. Content.”

“I guess I am,” Squall replied. Quistis was the only one he’d told of his plans just yet. Not that he didn’t trust his friends but the fewer people who knew; the fewer people there were to attempt to change his mind.

“Good luck.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, then turned and headed into Cid’s office.

The room was dull, the day outside overcast. The sky was a mass of gunmetal grey clouds, holding the threat of rain. Cid sat at the huge desk that had briefly been his own the desk lamp casting a pool of harsh yellow light onto the headmaster. He was reading what looked to be a copy of Squall’s report on the mission.

When the door shut behind Squall with a soft click, the older gentleman looked up and gestured to the chair opposite his desk. “Take a seat, Squall.”

If he hadn’t felt so exhausted he probably would have refused, but he feared he would be falling down if he didn’t sit. Perching on the edge of the seat, he sat bolt upright and watched Cid passively.

“I have to say I’m a little disappointed in you, Squall,” Cid flicked through the pages of the folder in his hand. “I understand that you had to indulge in the product to get close to the dealers and the manufacturer but… promiscuous sexual activity is not something we can indulge in. What were you thinking?”

“Regulation four zero eight, section B. Any regulation can become null and void in the pursuit of a mission target,” Squall said, his gaze locking coldly with Cid’s. The guardian forces may have taken the majority of his childhood memories and the recollection of some of his burgeoning relationship with Seifer before the war, but his knowledge of the SeeD regulation handbook was almost unsurpassed. “I could see no other way of working my way into their circle as quickly. I gained access to the list of exchange locations through that.”

“I was referring to the situation involving Seifer Almasy,” Cid frowned, setting the report on the desk and folding his hands over it. His eyes were pinched by creases, his brow furrowed in his concern. “That wasn’t anything that could benefit the mission. He is a known criminal Squall; there were warrants out for his arrest.”

“Actually sir, I was the one who negotiated the cancellation of all outstanding warrants after the war. He wasn’t causing any more trouble and I’m glad I did it.”

“But… he tortured you.”

Squall smiled softly and shrugged with his good arm. “He was being controlled by the sorceress and if anyone was going to punish him for his crimes it should have been SeeD. You can’t punish someone from following orders any more than you can punish Edea for being a vessel for Ultimecia.”

Squall’s left hand curled into a loose fist, his thumb stroking the skin that should have been covered by his Griever ring. He couldn’t help but wonder what his hardened criminal was doing right at that moment.

“Seifer Almasy is dangerous. We cannot…” Cid began, faltering when Squall’s gaze turned harder, crueller and colder.

“If you punish him, you’ll have to punish Edea as well Sir,” he growled. Squall was painfully glad that he had left his weapon elsewhere, he was exhausted and his temper was almost as short as Seifer’s.

‘Besides, the only threat he poses is to my patience and anyone he cooks for,’ the brunet added silently.

“Squall,” the older man attempted to interrupt.

“Are you reacting like this because you don’t trust him or is it just because we are both male?” Squall scowled when he saw Cid flinch, and shook his head. There was the real reason, and it disgusted him.

“Perhaps we should discuss a way for you to move forward in your SeeD career, Squall. Doctor Kadowaki feels you should be allowed time for your shoulder to heal naturally,” Cid smiled, a weak and futile attempt to retain Squall’s flagging trust that failed miserably. “I was thinking of a teaching position. To get you out of the field.”

Another desk job. Another chance to tuck him safely away, out of sight. It was too much this time.

“Whatever,” Squall said. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he drew out an envelope with ‘Headmaster Kramer’ in neat type on the front. It was an awfully unassuming little item considering it was worth around sixty thousand gil.

“What’s this?” the headmaster asked as he opened the letter and scanned it quickly. “Squall… are you serious?”

Standing, Squall glared at the man he’d once thought of as a father figure. He had made his mind up the day he’d returned to garden and the things Cid had said only served to reassure him that he was making the right decision and he would not be swayed. “Painfully so. I quit, sir.”

“But… but…” Cid stuttered, struggling to find the words. “You can’t. No one ever quits SeeD.”

“First gunblade master. First one to leave. Aren’t I a prodigy?” Squall tugged his jacket back onto his injured shoulder, ensuring it would not slide off. The sling made it awkward and he felt unwieldy wearing it but he was feeling the cold and he didn’t dare leave it off. “I’ll be off the premises by five.”

“You can’t just leave, Squall!” the elder man protested again. His face was flushed with anger as he rose to his feet, his hands slamming hard onto the wooden desk top with a hollow thud.

“Yes, I can,” Squall growled, turning and heading for the door. “You have no right to place any sort of limit on my life outside Garden – whether I am carrying out missions or not. I will not tolerate that. If you have anything further to say, I suggest you speak with President Loire.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“If I wanted to threaten you, Cid, I’d have told Kadowaki where to stuff her advice, healed up and bought Lion Heart with me. Goodbye, Cid. You can deposit my pay final paycheque as usual.”

As the heavy patter of rain sounded against the window suddenly, the dark clouds finally coming through with their promise of a downpour, Squall stalked out of the office and slammed the door hard behind him.