--Chap 13--

Squall sat up quickly, nearly braining himself on the metal of the top bunk above him. He was subconsciously clutching his face, his fingertips pressed against the rough skin of his scar, shaking his head.

It didn't happen like that. His mind was reeling, screaming that phrase over and over again.

It didn't happen like that.

It didn't happen like that.

IT DIDN'T HAPPEN LIKE THAT!

Damn the Heartless. It hadn't happened like that, and now it seemed as though all of his fights against the Heartless were causing his nightmares to twist his memories.

Memories were all he had left of her. He was not going to let them be tainted by the nightmares, by the stress of fighting against the monsters that had stolen her away from him.

"You're awake."

Aerith was standing at his bedside, her trademark smile on her face. It was forced now, lacking her usual lovely easiness. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hands were outstretched slightly, drawn back apparently in surprise. "You were…shouting in your sleep--her name." She cocked her head sideways, looking at him closely. Her gaze was so intent on his face—on the troubled, tired look on his face—that Squall averted his eyes. "Are you okay, Squall?" she questioned. He flinched.

"I'm fine," he lied, still rubbing his scar. Aerith sat down carefully on the bunk, squeezing in beside him as he twisted his body to let his legs drape over the side. He hissed a little as his wound pulled at the movement.

"After all this time, do you think no more of me than that?" she inquired. "I'm not stupid, you know. You lost a lot of blood—at the very least, you have to have some vertigo."

"…Whatever." That startled a chuckle out of her.

"I haven't heard you say that in a long time, Squall." He grimaced again. She lifted a hand, "I napped long enough to get my strength back. Another Cure--"

"No more spells," he muttered. "That mouse knocked me out last time."

"That mouse's name is King Mickey, and he saved your life." Her voice was kind and quiet, not at all as denigrating as it might have been a few hours before. With a short nap had come the revival of her normal, tranquil attitude and she was back to acting the way she always did—levelly.

"You had us really worried there for a while."

"I wasn't all you were worried about." Now it was she who grimaced; Squall's voice lowered as his head did. "I'm…….sorry Aerith. For everything. I know how much he meant to you-"

"-Don't." Squall looked up at her from the corner of his eye, not wanting her green orbs to meet his own. "You can't…no. You're the mean one, remember?" He almost smiled at the old epithet. Almost. "Besides, none of this was your fault. None of it was any of our faults."

"…Grow up."

"What?"

"I said, 'grow up.'" There was the old animosity, the old ice. "This isn't a fairy tale, Aerith, and there's no happy ending waiting on the horizon, no sun behind the clouds. In case you hadn't noticed, the clouds are pitch black." He wasn't trying purposely to hurt her—the cloud metaphor was out before he realized it—but helplessness was not an emotion Squall Leonheart was used to coping with.

A slim hand was patting his knee.

"You have demons, my friend." The girl stood, giving him a forlorn smile before turning to ascend to her own bunk. "You really shouldn't try to fight them alone." Squall frowned, hand still tracing the old rigid line over the bridge of his nose. He let her words sink in, and then swung his legs back onto his bed with an involuntary grunt of pain. It didn't take long for his breath to even out and deepen a little.

He wasn't awake long enough to hear the soft tears falling to the sheets above him.

…….The Beginning…….

…well, that's it folks! The End! …Or is it? I have more in the works, please R&R!

-K-

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