Before you read this story, please read its prequel, Broken Wings

"If you didn't care what happened to me and I didn't care what for you we would zigzag away through the boredom and pain occasionally glancing up through the rain wondering which of the buggers to blame and watching for pigs on the wing . . . ."

Pigs on the Wing, Part 1 Pink Floyd

Prologue

Water.

Water was the first sound she heard as she awoke, and she wondered for a brief moment where the sound was coming from. With a sigh, she opened her eyes to the dim light afforded by the tiny cabin porthole. Even this little light was enough to sting her sleep tender eyes, bringing tiny tears to their corners. For just a moment, she wasn't sure where she was.

She sat up and pushed away the arm that encircled her waist and caught a glimpse of sandy blond hair peeking out from under the blanket. Normally, she'd wake him too, but she felt like being alone, before the children woke and began clamoring for breakfast.

A glance around the cabin reminded her of where she was and all that she'd left behind five long years ago. There, against the closet door, a gunblade, scarred by countless battles. There on the desk, the travelogues and maps, the CB radio and the stacks of books on diving. It is the photos, however that draw her attention. In the first, six children smile back at her with accusing eyes. It's as if they know she's abandoned them, so she turns her eyes to the second photograph. This one is no easier to take in. The same children, minus one, but plus herself, all older and just as accusing. Her comrades and friends. The people that had fought to save her life twice. It was a happier time. Sometimes, she wished she could go back and stay in that time forever, but the reality of it was that she now had two small children who needed her. She'd been gone long enough. Maybe they'd forgotten all about her.

She arose from the bed and dressed for the day in shorts and a tank top, still thinking of her friends. The photos would have to go. She didn't know why she even bothered to leave them up in the first place. They were only reminders of how badly she'd messed things up. Carefully, she took them down and placed them in the closet where she wouldn't have to see them anymore. She couldn't handle the guilt she felt when she looked at them.

Quietly, she opened the door and tread down the hall to check on the children. They were still asleep. She gave each one a kiss on the forehead and left them. They would be awake soon enough.

Up on the deck, she took in the beauty of the morning by herself. She wouldn't have it any other way. It was hard to appreciate such a view when the children were busy fighting over a toy and her companion couldn't find something that was right in front of him, should he care to move things out of the way before he gave up. Not that they were a burden, because they weren't. They were the best thing that ever happened to her. She hadn't expected to fall in love again, nor had she expected to start a family and love them so completely. They were not her burden. The memories were the burden.

The day had dawned clear and bright, cloudless and warm. It was going to be another hot day. No matter. She didn't feel the heat anymore. In fact, she rather enjoyed it, preferring to feel the sun against her already deeply tanned skin than to feel the chill of winter.

She leaned against the railing and looked at the waters below. Just yesterday, she'd spent a couple of hours beneath the surface. The reefs below were home to the most bizarre aquatic life she'd ever seen, and she'd been reluctant to come up, preferring to stay beneath the water. She hoped to spend a little more time below today, but they were running low on supplies and would have to move on soon. Food wasn't the problem. Upon the ocean, they had plenty to eat, but the necessities like soap and dry goods, their supply wouldn't hold out much longer. Besides, the oxygen tanks were almost empty. Too bad, really.

She pulled up the lobster traps to check if anything had wandered into them overnight, and was rewarded with four large lobsters. She dropped them into a bucket and set them aside. That was dinner for tonight.

A pair of strong arms encircled her from behind as she stared out at the endless sea. "Morning, beautiful," he whispered in her ear and placed a kiss on her sun bronzed cheek. "Sleep well?"

"Well enough," she replied without emotion.

"You know, Balamb is the closest port," he said. "Maybe we should stop there for supplies instead of trying to make it to Dollet."

She shook her head and said what she always said when he suggested they stop in Balamb. "Let's just keep sailing for the rest of our lives."

The girl couldn't believe how suddenly her date had gone from romantic to psychotic. They'd been laughing and joking only a short time ago, and now he'd taken what she would have willingly given him anyway. She felt used, dirty, and he laughed at her tears and mocked her terror. He really was as cold and heartless as the other girls had said.

She buttoned her pants and sniffled. All she wanted to do was go back to Garden and go to sleep. She wanted to forget about this and get on with her life. Her studies weren't going well anyhow, and she knew she needed to buckle down and focus on her exams rather than spend all her time dating, something a Cadet shouldn't be doing anyhow. But everyone did. Everyone snuck out to meet secretly these days. She'd been stupid to think that nothing would happen.

"I can't let you leave here," he said and unsheathed his gunblade. "Not alive anyway. You'd tell someone what I did to you."

Terrified, the girl shook her head, no, but he came at her, the gunblade ready to cut her down. Instinct took over and she got to her feet and sprinted away from him, too frightened to scream. No one would have heard her anyway. That was the sad thing. She should never have agreed to a picnic in the woods, where they might become lost or worse, killed by ax murderers. She'd had no idea that it was he that was the ax murderer.

Barefoot, she ran through the woods, branches and leaves cracking under her feet. Something had cut her, and it hurt, but she didn't care. All she could think about was getting to safety because she was certain he would kill her. She wasn't ready to die yet. Not yet. Not yet...

Suddenly, she tripped over a log that she didn't see and she fell forward, her face in the dirt. Her breath left her and she struggled to get up, but the cuff of her pants had caught on something.

"There you are," he said with a grin as he appeared among the trees. "You didn't think you could get away, did you?"

"Please," she cried, as she struggled to free herself. "Just let me go. I won't tell anyone, I swear!"

He chuckled and brought the blade down. She felt her face split open, from forehead to chin and she let out a shriek of pain. "I won't. Please," she begged.

"It's nothing personal," he said, then giggled as if he were mad.

The blade came down again and again, and all she could do was lie there and tremble and pray that someone would help her. She didn't notice anymore the way he giggled and chattered to her, all she knew was the pain as he slashed at her over and over.

She was already dead when the tip of the gunblade pierced her heart.

The red dragon before him snarled and saliva dripped from it's sharp, monstrous teeth. It thought he would be it's next meal for sure, however, he had other plans for it. His mighty blade came down upon the beast's flank, and the steel weapon wedged it's way into flesh and bone. The dragon let out a furious groan and lunged forward, it's jaws snapped and it shuddered with rage. The young warrior was tired of the battle, and he summoned Shiva to finish the creature off.

Shiva should have been enough to kill the beast but still it had a little fight left in it and it breathed a cloud of sulfurous stench at him, leaving him without sight. Still, he had a few Blizzaga spells left and he immediately cast one. Though he couldn't see his target, he knew he'd made his mark when he heard the sound of ice shattering. The dragon roared and then fell to the ground. It was dead. Finally.

His shift was now over. He returned to camp, exhausted from a day's work. He didn't bother to eat or shower, he merely fell upon his cot and drifted through errant thoughts as he tried to fall asleep.

He found he could no longer remember what she looked like, the girl he still longed for. He remembered her name, but for the life of him, could not picture her laughing brown eyes. An unfortunate side effect of the GF, perhaps, but maybe it was for the best that he forget about her. It had been five years since he'd last seen her in person. It was expected that her memory would fade.

Did that mean, too, that he might soon forget how much he'd loved her and how much it had hurt when she'd left? He hoped so. Forgetting would be a welcome thing. Maybe then he could begin to rebuild himself, once she was gone from his memory.

It had been so long since she'd left. She'd promised to return, but she never did. He'd waited by the front entrance, hoping against hope that it might be the day that she walked back into his life. She never had. There had never been a letter or a phone call to say that she was all right. Only one post card in all those years. A picture of some resort town in a part of the world he'd never visited...Costa Del Sol, was it? It had been hastily written and signed, as if it were an afterthought. But not a word since. That was four years ago in August.

As he slipped into much needed sleep, her name rolled on the waves of slumber, repeating over and over inside his head, like waves upon a long forgotten beach.

Rinoa.

Come home.

Notes

So...here it is...the prologue. I've had to change the rating on this story from pg13 to R because it contains some rather violent and sexually oriented content. Not that any of it will be explicit, mind you, but just to be safe .

I'm going to warn you know, this story is much darker than Broken Wings, and the writing style is much different. I did away with the first person present because I could not write the story the way I wanted to using the same format. Still, I hope you enjoy it, and I hope I haven't lost any readers because of the content or the changes...I'm very proud of this one. I think I've done some of my best writing with this story, and I hope you enjoy it...