Rescue Me

Author's note: I started writing this a little while off and I like to think that my writing has improved since I began, so if it seems a little disjointed in the next chapter or two, it's just me trying to get back into it and stuff. ^-^

Rescue Me
Chapter 4
Where To Go From Here.

As could be predicted, the drive to Balamb went uneventfully, the scenery passing by his window going unnoticed by the stoic brunette male. He even drove without the radio on, allowing the silence to enshroud him and allow him to plan ahead.

With his decision having been a rather spur of the moment thing, he had no idea where he was going to stay or how far he’d be able to go, though he did have a considerable amount of money from his wages, seeing as he never found much to spend it on, aside from polish for Lionheart, or the odd belt that caught his eye to add to his collection.

One thing was for certain though.

He would not be going to Esthar, staying as far from Laguna as he could get. If he couldn’t deal with his friends worrying about him, there was no chance of the commander being able to take it from his father too.

With one destination ruled out, Squall parked the car down by the port, casting an icy glare at whoever decided to try and approach him for whatever reason. He was clearly in no mood to socialise, as ever, and he was still weakened by his attempted suicide, though it wasn’t worth thinking about if news of his exploit was leaked to the public, who knew what they’d think of him then.

Sighing in annoyance, the brunette commander picked his way up the hill, past the hotel and along to the station, checking the store as he passed for anything of interest. It came as no surprise to find nothing of any real use in the shop, though out of habit, he bought a potion or two, not that he’d probably need it, but he bought them anyway.

That done, Squall continued on to the station, still unsure of where he was going, and that wasn’t like him at all, he usually knew every detail about whatever he was doing so that he could carry out a task with expert precision. Just by the fact that he didn’t know where he was going signified that he was not the same person that had fought against Ultimecia with pride and determination.

He was a shadow of his former self, lost in the hell that he’d saved with nothing to make his life seem worth living. Sad but true.

With the sorceress defeated, Garden had been reduced to taking contracts that involved solving petty disputes between the resistance factions in Timber, defending tiny villages from monsters that weren’t even worth drawing Lionheart on and other such menial tasks that were simply a waste of SeeDs elite service.

Purchasing a ticket at the booth, the commander dismissed the unspoken question from the cashier as he was handed a ticket to Galbadia. Deling City.

The place was big enough for him to just disappear into the crowds; there were enough dodgy bars and such in the backwater areas of Deling, as there were with all major cities, so he could just fade into the background seeing as not everyone knew him to be the saviour of the world.

That was his plan. To hide out in the seedy areas of Deling for an unknown length of time.

It obviously wasn’t much of a plan, but it would have to do for now, and as the brunette leader climbed aboard the train, he glanced over his shoulder to check that he hadn’t been followed, though if he had, he was certain that he would have heard his friends before he saw them. Satisfied that he was escaping undetected by his companions, Squall lowered himself onto the plush couch in the SeeD compartment and rested his forehead against his hand, in his familiar thinking posture.

He didn’t have long to wait before the bland voice of the announcer could be heard over the intercom. “Last call for the train to Deling City! I repeat, last call for the train to Deling city!”

A minute or so later and the whistle went on the platform, announcing the departure of the train and Squall was whisked away from Balamb.

The solitude of the train compartment was bliss when compared to the constant bustling of Garden’s physician around his bed when he was confined, and he couldn’t help but wonder about the havoc he’d no doubt caused back at the military academy. The establishment would be in chaos, troublesome students running riot, timid kids getting picked on, Quistis fretting over everything...

Squall couldn’t help but think that maybe they deserved it. They had piled everything on him, and now they could see just how hard it was for one man to keep control over everything without damn near suffering a mental breakdown. The thought of the inevitably ensuing chaos back at Garden did not raise his spirits, the brunette commander wasn’t one of those who cared little about the appearance of Garden, he preferred it neat and tidy, so that things could easily be found and everything was presentable.

Lightly massaging his temples to relieve an ever-growing headache, the brunette closed his eyes and sighed heavily. By choosing Deling City as his destination, he was getting closer to Rinoa again, even staying in the same city as her was unpleasant for him, just knowing that she was living it up with another man because Squall wasn’t worth the wait made him wish he had never laid eyes on her to begin with. He wasn’t a jealous man, but it still stung like he couldn’t believe.

He had nowhere else to go though. He’d be too well known at Dollet, so he couldn’t go there, Timber was where he first met Rinoa and he’d be damned if he hid there. Winhill was small and he’d be recognised, his location given away too easily. Deling was technically his best option, even if Rinoa was there. Besides, it was too late to change his mind now, he was on the train to Deling and so that was where he would have to stay. Accommodation might be a problem though, he would have to create an alias so that he couldn’t be traced.

What he didn’t realise until he reached Deling station was that he’d drifted off, the announcement of his arrival over the intercom waking him from his light slumber. That was definitely not right, he had not inadvertently fallen asleep since he was a kid, he was not in complete control of his body and the thought unnerved him, made him uncomfortable. However, he had a choice; he could either try again to commit suicide, try and get better to live a different life or he could continue to neglect himself and slowly succumb to the pull of death.

Leaving the decision unmade, Squall exited the train and stood on the platform, debating this time over which direction to take. Whichever way Caraway’s Mansion wasn’t he supposed, and struck off in the opposite direction of Rinoa’s home.

It didn’t take long of walking at a steady pace before he noticed his surroundings becoming less well kept, houses falling into disrepair, the pavements not swept, bars and illegal clubs becoming more frequent the further he got from the centre. Glares were sent in his direction as well as some inviting glances, scantily clad females beckoning to him to join them in a darkened alley, or an abandoned house. Even in his sickly state he still somehow managed to hold a hint of grace and beauty that attracted the observer.

The sun was setting at his back, casting a long thin shadow out before him as he travelled along the backwater area of Deling City and he soon came to a stop outside a run-down hotel, the lights of the name were buzzing and flickering, some letters were missing and the interior looked very much like an incredibly dreadful attempt to make the place look regal and important.

It would do though, and the brunette commander signed in under the name ‘Leon’ and some random surname. With the key to his room in hand, he ascended the stairs and soon entered the dingy little hotel room. The wallpaper was peeling from the walls and the carpet was stained with Hyne knew what, but the bed sheets seemed okay, so he rested Lionheart across a chair and sat on the edge of his bed to do what he apparently did best, think.

There was no question that Quistis and the gang would be running themselves ragged looking for him, posting his picture on the computers for those who didn’t recognise him. He was safe here though, even if he was recognised, his location would not be given away, the people there knew that if you came to this kind of place, you didn’t want to be found, so they respected the brunette’s wish to remain missing.

He knew at the back of his mind though, that he couldn’t stay there forever, he had to move on, either face up to what he’d done, face his friends, or try again to end his life, and currently, neither option seemed very appealing. No doubt if he tried to kill himself again, someone else would come to his ‘rescue’. He wouldn’t remain hidden forever, he’d be found out eventually, and then it would be even harder to face those he’d left behind. So what should he do? He certainly wasn’t going to return to Garden, that was out of the question. So that left another attempt at suicide. He’d have to let himself deteriorate again a little though, in the now unlikely event that someone found him, he’d have a better chance of surviving if he tried again so soon.

In light of this decision, he thought about going down to the bar across the road to see if he could drown his sorrows in alcohol, something that under normal circumstances he would never have even considered. ‘Squall’ and ‘alcohol’ didn’t go together, it just wasn’t heard of, but he went down to the bar anyway, Lionheart left in his room.

Soon enough, after a stroll across the road and into the bar, ‘Leon’ was sat alone at a table with a glass of Bacardi. It wasn’t the strongest alcohol on offer, but he didn’t want to get drunk so quickly, and considering he hadn’t eaten anything for days, had only nutritional supplements pumped into his body, the likelihood was that just a couple of glasses of the Bacardi alone would be enough to loosen him up.

He gazed around now and again at his surroundings, the dingy interior of the bar that had stains of liquid across the tables, stains that he didn’t really want to think about because there was all number of things that could have caused it. The thought was enough to make the brunette feel sick to his stomach, but he’d put himself here, he had to make do with what he’d now got.

His dulled grey/blue eyes travelled over the few patrons inside, noting their unkempt appearance, how they reeked of alcohol when they passed his table, and he kept glancing at the door as if expecting a search party to enter and force him back to Garden. He was getting paranoid in his ill-health. He frowned at that, it wasn’t something he should be feeling, paranoid. Squall Leonhart did not get paranoid. He planned and prepared everything to perfection, allowing for every kind of extraneous variable imaginable.

He was becoming a different person and that was not something he was comfortable with. He wasn’t the type to do things on impulse and so his whole situation made him pause to think about what he was playing at. He had to start thinking things through again, though he could blame his irrational behaviour on the bloodloss from his attempted suicide.

Now he was trying to move the blame from himself. Something was seriously wrong with him; he always accepted the blame for something that was his fault.

There was no longer any constant in his life, everything was up in the air and he had nothing to turn to that wouldn’t change, not even himself any more. He needed something or someone who wouldn’t change, who was predictable and could be depended upon.

So why was it that Seifer came to mind?

Seifer wasn’t any of that. But still his thoughts lingered on the blonde gunblader and would not move on from him. Maybe he did need to see Seifer again. For closure of his existence if nothing else, seeing as the male, branded a traitor, had not been seen since Ultimecia’s demise.

And coincidentally, who walked in at that particular moment, causing Squall’s dulled eyes to widen in disbelief?

Why Seifer of course.