To Damion, the boy who has been set free.

He could not move. One moment of vulnerability was all it took, and he was trapped. A strong arm wrapped tightly around his neck, not enough to constrict his breathing, but enough to keep him pressed firmly against the one behind him. Another arm pinned his arms to his sides, stopping him from reaching his gunblade, from reaching anything that might turn the tables. He was well and truly trapped, and he could not move at all.

"Surrender, Leonhart," a low voice whispered into his ear, "because I'm not letting you go."

His eyes darted wildly, thoughts racing. The voice had been insistent, intolerant for any resistance. Yet, it carried no hint of aggression; no malice, no threat. Just a quiet voice, instructing. And it worried him, as he remained held fast. He was tense and rigid against his captor, but otherwise did not struggle.

At last, the one behind him turned him around; turned him toward the cliffs that he had just been walking toward. And he was walked toward them, slowly - one step at a time. They reached the edge, and still he was pinned to the other.

"Look down," the voice instructed. "Look out into the distance."

He looked - he could see the town below him. He could see the houses he had rebuilt with his own hands. He could see the pavements he had laid into place himself. He saw people, going up and down the street. He saw men that laughed and joked. He saw women that were chatting idly in a relaxed manner. He saw children shrieking and running carelessly after one another. He looked upon the town, and saw everything that was below him.

"See what you have done, Leonhart. Take a good long look at those people. Take a good long look at what they have.

"Look, Leonhart: look at what you have done for them. Look at your life's masterpiece."

"...it's nothing," he finally replied, his own voice husky to his ears. "I could have done more for them. For this. This isn't-"

"You are looking away," the voice interrupted firmly. "Look at it. Look at what is before you. Look at what is beautiful, Leonhart.

"Look, and understand: it is beautiful. It is what you poured your heart into, and that alone makes it beautiful."

His chest hurt, and he found breathing to be more difficult. The hand that still wrapped around his neck had not tightened, and yet it had not slackened either.

"The people love you, Leonhart, for giving to them what they had lost."

And then the hands slackened, and turned him around. Blue eyes burned into his own. Burning through the barriers between them...burning right into his unguarded soul. Still, the voice continued to speak, and the fire was searing in his very being.

"We love you, for being the driving force behind this restoration, for being the shoulders that bore each burden, for being the one to guide us forward.

"I love you, for all that you have done, and for all that you will do. I've loved you since you were a little boy who was not afraid to be Squall. I love you who is filled with so much fear that you became Leon. I love you for all that you are, and all that you will become."

There was a pause, and when the pause came to an end, the voice was softer now. More gentle.

"Stop shutting us out, Squall Leonhart. It's time to open that last door to your heart. I love you, Squall, and I'm coming in."

It hurt to breathe so much more now. He could hear himself gasping for breath audibly, his voice hitched as he shook. Again, the one who held him captive before wrapped those strong arms around him. Trapping him...protecting him...embracing him...

As he felt something warm trickle down his face, he finally relaxed against the other body. And the two of them, one who had been lost and one who had found, stood there on the cliffs.

"Surrender, Squall," the one who had found whispered, his own tears falling freely as the one who had been lost continued to tremble in his arms.

"Surrender...because I'm never letting you go."

This one was based on a true story that happened not long ago, but only a few hours ago. When Damion told it to me, I admit to breaking down and crying. I wrote this based on what he told me, along with listening to Josh Groban's You are Loved.

I love you, too, D. More than you can imagine. Take care of yourself, kid.

EDIT: ( for a more detailed explanation of what happened with Damion, you can check out the deviation under the same name in my dA account, through the link here:
http : / / zeffncompany . deviantart . com / art / Dearly - Beloved - 93641549 )