What's Left Of Me

Author's Notes: A whole week! I am ashamed! Nonetheless the thrid chapter is here!!

So, remember when I said I wouldn't rush this chapter? I did anyway. I'm sorry if it seems that way . . . again.

In case, my dear readers, you haven't noticed, every chapter title, including the story title, is the name of a song. (That's just how I roll). So I'm going back to the previous chapters and starting with this chapter will be posting a link to the lyrics of the song used. I of course, do not own any of the musical content or lyrics.

The Running Free - Coheed and Cambria http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/coheedandcambria/therunningfree.html

No lemon in this chapter, but there IS an unintentional minor Squall/Irvine moment, and maybe some Kiros/Laguna if you squint . . . oops.

So, I think that's all this time. Per usual, reviews are welcome, flames will be iced and delivered to you on your birthday cake. :D

ENJOY!!

III


March 17th -- 4 P.M.

Squall Leonheart squirmed uncomfortably in his dress garbs. The navy blue, bordering black material was scratchy, and it was unbearably hotter than his normal attire. He hated formal gatherings, and he was barely recovered from his encounter with the Abadon, and now he was expected to play nice with the Presidential Party as they danced and drank the night away.

III

Yesterday, 1 P.M.

Irvine Kinneas sat at the foot of Squall's infirmary bed, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Squall knew he was being unnervingly quiet.

"Something wrong?" Squall sat up on the bed, wincing a bit when he stretched his back.

A moment of silence passed, then "You're lucky you're able to move, you know?"

Squall sighed. "...Yeah."

"You're not bothered by that?!" Irvine was standing now, flailing his arms about. "You wish you could have just stayed asleep, don't you?"

"..." Squall swung his legs off the side of the bed and joined Irvine. "I wish you wouldn't worry, actually..."

Irvine scoffed. "Please, who would take care of you if I didn't?" He cupped the commander's chin gently, despite his flustered emotions.

"Irvine, don't . . . don't beat yourself up. It wasn't your fault." Squall pleaded.

It was too late, however. Irvine's lips descended on Squall's.

It was a chaste, loving kiss, one that Squall was unworthy of, he felt.

Squall placed his hands softly on Irvine's chest, pushing him lightly away. "I wished I could care for you as you do for me, Cowboy."

Irvine bowed his head, releasing Squall's chin. "I wish you wouldn't."

Squall gave him a puzzled look.

"You see, I wouldn't want to be the reason of your injuries." He smiled at him sadly.

Squall nodded, resting his head on Irvine's shoulder, allowing the cowboy to embrace him.

"Could I have this dance?" Irvine whispered.

Squall lifted his head, tilting it to the side as he looked at Irvine. "Excuse me?"

"Well I'm not going to be able to ask you at the ball. Figured I could indulge myself while I have the chance."

Squall nibbled on his lower lip, adverting his eyes from Irvine's. He nodded slowly, however, placing his hands in the Galbadian's and allowing him to lead.

There hadn't been much space, given the quarters they were in, but it worked somehow, and it made his partner in crime happy.

After a few minutes, Irvine bowed his head to him. "Thank you, Lion."

Squall couldn't help but sacrifice a small smile. "The pleasure was all mine."

III

He removed his dress uniform, instead wearing his normal leather pants and bomber jacket. It was just a stupid dance, something to celebrate the defeat of the threat to Esthar. He ran a hand through his freshly shampooed hair, messing it up to his liking, then stood in the mirror. He looked decent, he thought, and maybe, just maybe, tonight, after the lights went down, and the unstoppable rain was all the noise he needed, he would crawl under his sheets and dance with Laguna Loire to a rhythm much more pleasing.

III

March 17th -- 5:13 P.M.

Laguna straightened the collar on his dark blue dress shirt and smoothed the crinkles on his brown slacks. He flashed the mirror an award-winning grin before donning his fancy black shoes.

He felt refreshed. He was going to see Squall for the first time since he had been rudely aware of his presence in his country.

Laguna, out of respect, decided against meeting him in the infirmary. How would that have gone? 'Oh, Squall Leonheart. I've been having dreams about you for months now, explicit dreams at that . . .' No, not going to happen . . .

He went against pulling his long raven hair into ponytail, instead leaving it to curve at his facial features. He vaguely reminded himself of what he looked like when he was 27 in Winhill; those had been the days!

A knock on his door alerted him it was time to make his appearance at the ball. His idea, of course, was only to meet the boy of his dreams face to face. That his squad had defeated the Abadon that threatened his beloved Esthar was only more the excuse.

"Come in!" he called, looking himself in the mirror again.

"Laguna! We're going to be late! It won't look good if the President is late for an event." Kiros was standing at the in the middle of his bedroom, dressed in a fancy feminine looking red long sleeved shirt that shimmered in certain lights and black slacks that almost covered his black boots.

The president smiled faintly. "You look dressed to impress, Kiros. Anyone in particular you're looking to allure to you tonight?" He winked playfully at his advisor.

Kiros scowled at him, taking in the other's appearance. "No, but perhaps you are?"

Laguna fought to keep the small-ish grin from forming on his lips, but to no avail.

"There is!" Kiros exclaimed. "Who?"

With another devilish wink, Laguna darted passed him and through the door, stopping to look charmingly over his shoulder. "That's my secret."

"Wait! Laguna!' Kiros called after him as he closed the door behind them. Like they were teens again, Kiros pestered him all down the halls of the palace. "Come on! You can't keep secrets like that from me!" Laguna however, wasn't going to budge, simply offering a sympathetic look towards his long time friend.

After a bit, Kiros had left him be, changing the subject. "I hear the students from Balamb recovered nicely. The one only ended up with a few scrapes and a broken arm, however, the leader is lucky to be alive, much less walking around and attending a ball."

Laguna agreed. "I read over the reports from Dr. Odine. He recons that because of the use of their GFs they were able to regenerate faster."

Kiros nodded, keeping next to his president. "But the squad leader may never fully recover."

"I know," Laguna answered sadly, "If he takes another blow like that in battle, or anything, really, he could be paralyzed for the rest of his life." It was hard for him to digest that. Here he hadn't even met his boy wonder and he was already having to think about the possibility of causing him further injury.

"Or worse. Dr. Odine had also stated that where his spine was chipped is a very dangerous area. I was pretty positive that he said another back injury could cause that part of his spine to split up to his medulla, which in turn would cause severe head trauma, or death."

Even though Laguna had read that part of the document, his mind had refused to take in that information. His features fell slightly, enough for his good friend to notice.

"It's not fair, Kiros." He vented. "Such a young man, with the hardened heart of a warrior and scars to rival many others', and he probably hasn't even had the chance to love yet."

Laguna was only mildly comforted by the slender hand on his shoulder. "Unfortunate indeed."

Thankfully as they turned the corner to the ball they skipped the awkward silence that was sure to follow after the chain of comments, instead finding two Esthar security guards rushing towards them.

"President Loire! We've just received word of an intruder on the palace grounds!"

Kiros and Laguna shared a rather bored look before the latter swept passed them. "Gentlemen, we have a fully staffed militia, three ex-Galbadian soldiers, and a squad of mercenaries from Balamb Garden. Surely we should be safe." He took hold of one of the elegant gold door handles, looking over his shoulder. "Please, don't let the guests know." With that, Laguna was through the double doors.

A classical waltz played as Laguna cascaded down the white marble steps to the ground floor. He picked up a glass of champagne, bringing it loosely to his lips as he was greeted by the crowds. Quickly, he scanned the area. White and gold decorations glittered the hall, balloons, ribbons, sparklers, etc. Crystal chandeliers reflected radiance from all directions, a complete contrast to the dark grey sky pelting the earth below with persistent rain. The dance floor was littered with couples dancing and mingling. Finally, the fountain, Laguna's favorite part of the ballroom, was stationed in the center of it all. All white marble came up from the floor and morphed into two swords clashing as they rotated about each other, water spouting from the tips as well as the pool surrounding. Through all of his efforts, however, there was no sign of Squall.

Laguna busied himself despite this, speaking with the Balamb students, (and secretly learning bits and pieces of his erotic fantasy lover, like how he dislikes big events, and is pretty much the loner of the group), and socializing with other presidential party members that he normally wouldn't talk to unless absolutely necessary. Not that he didn't like them, but talking to them was so time consuming and dull, two things Laguna was not a fan of.

The grey skies turned black, the music began to pick up, and the president of Esthar found himself indulged in a mixture of champagne and punch. Kiros, who had caught up to him not that long ago, kept him company as Laguna kept watch for a certain Balamb Lion.

"Have you found her yet?" Kiros voice broke through Laguna's concentration.

He cursed mentally but smiled at his friend nonetheless. "Who said it was a her?" he slipped. He cursed aloud now as Kiros chuckled into his hand.

"Laguna Loire, back on the prowl and wants a fine young lion. What a story!"

"KIROS!!" Laguna hissed. He glanced around anxiously, scouting for any prying eyes or ears. "You knew?"

Kiros offered him a smile. "You're easier to read than a children's book, my friend."

When Laguna saw no possible traces of disgust in his advisor's eyes, he returned the smile.

"I think I'm going to get a bit of air." he told the darker man as he stretched up over his shoulders, satisfied with the popping sound his joints had made.

"Do be careful, Laguna. There hasn't been any word that the intruder has been apprehended." Kiros cautioned.

Laguna waved a hand of dismissal as he walked out of a set of double doors, and into the black rainy night. he stood under an awning; the air was fresh, despite the constant downpour.

As the president looked up into the nightly cloud cover, he couldn't help but feel played. Squall was here, in his home, and yet the commander has been a no show to an event that was put together for him! A pang of emptiness stung him in the chest, and he brushed his fingers through his long hair.

A rustle of grass drug Laguna from his thoughts. His eyes snapped to his right, finding a tall, dark figure dressed in black.

'The intruder?'

A sick part of Laguna wanted the distraction, to take his mind from the Balamb squad leader. He crept across the pavement under the awning, the figure moving slowly in front of him until he was nearly feet away.

Laguna pounced; the figure was against the outer wall of the palace with one of the president's arms across his chest, the other raised into a fist in case of resistance.

He smirked with triumph as the intruder's body hit the wall with a soft groan.

"L-Laguna?!"

Laguna Loire froze in the obsidian rainfall. It was the same voice from his dreams. He looked down into icy blue eyes, shocked, surprised, and lonely, and Laguna imagined he looked something similar.

Without letting his hold of the boy go, Laguna only whispered , too stunned to do much else after he had taken in the full facial feature of the 'intruder'.

"Squall?"