Author's Notes: This was actually written a very long time ago, but I just now got around to posting it. It was supposed to be a five-songfic one shot, but I decided to break it down into five chapters instead. I already have the first three parts written out, which will be posted about a week or two apart from each other whilst I start work on the next chapters. Anyways, leave me some nice thoughts. Squall will merely blink at any flames received. Let me know what you think! Oh yeah, I don't own Final Fantasy or this music. Sue me and get...... a lot of wasted time...? Eheh, heh. Oh yeah, this was originally written for Zencreation wherever in the hell she is. O.o;;;
Warnings: This is a pretty messed up story I have here... attempted suicide that is pretty damn graphic at times... major Angst!Squall here... this is also a YAOI, Squall/Seifer specifically, so if any of this makes you squeamish, then I suggest you leave now and spare us both... Later chapters will continue the Angst!Squall and will also add alcohol abuse, language and what have you. You are warned!
Flashbacks are in italics
((((()))))
The winter here's cold and bitter,
it's chilled us to the bone.
We haven't seen the sun for weeks,
too long, too far from home.
I feel just like I'm sinking,
and I claw for solid ground.
I'm pulled down by the undertow,
I never thought I could feel so low,
and, oh, darkness, I feel like letting go.
If all of the strength and all of the courage
come and lift me from this place.
I know I can love you much better than this:
Full of grace, Full of grace, my love.
It's better this way,
I said,
Haven't seen this place before.
Where everything we say and do,
hurts us all the more.
If all of the strength and all of the courage
come and lift me from this place.
I know I can love you much better than this:
Full of grace, full of grace.
I know I can love you much better than this.
It's better this way.
Sarah McLachlan "Full of Grace"
"Squall, get up!"
He sat with his back against the wall, exhaustion and emptiness written clearly upon his worn face. He hadn't eaten or slept in weeks, and it was finally catching up with him, taking its toll upon his body and mind. He was beginning to fade into the shadows, to become nothing. He was disappearing slowly, but surely. It was just a matter of time before he simply stopped existing, stopped breathing. He was almost positive of it and it hurt.
"Come on, Squall! You need to get up!"
The words haunted him, dancing throughout his mind and playing games with him. He could not shut them up, no matter how hard or how long he tried. He just wanted them to go away, to stop and leave him in peace and quiet for five minutes. Something, anything. But... nothing came, nothing helped. They continued haunting him, mesmerizing him for all he was worth.
"Squall... something happened to Seifer..."
"They... they found his car a couple of miles out of town... Hyperion was a few feet away from it... they searched the area and the town, but... I swear to you, it's like he just... disappeared."
He felt so damn old. All of his strength had been drained from him. The only thing he had left was the never-ending ache in his chest, that gaping hole in his stomach. He was tired... he was so damned tired... if only he could sleep, could rest for a few moments, no matter how brief they were. Then... then... everything might be okay, it might hurt a little less, maybe he could breathe for once instead of gasping for air all of the time like a fish on dry land.
"... they say it doesn't look good... people just don't vanish out of thin air... they think something happened to him... maybe he encountered someone who had resentment for him left over from the war... there was a cliff nearby, you know... three thousand feet into the ocean... they're going to start looking there tomorrow, but they say there's really not much hope... the ocean is awful big and one body doesn't add up to much..."
He allowed his gaze to move upwards, towards the cracked ceiling. He wanted to cry, to scream, to do something, but... he couldn't. He just couldn't. A tear every now and then was all he could manage. He just felt so hollow, so empty... like a mere shell, he wasn't even real anymore. It was all just a figment of someone else's imagination; he was just a figment of someone else's imagination. Someday, they'd wake up, and his nightmare would finally end. He had to believe that, he had to hold onto that idea that one day it would all stop hurting, that everything would end and he would be rewarded for all his suffering with darkened solitude, quietness, absolutely nothing at all. If he didn't believe in that, then...
He looked over at the counter beside him, the metal reflecting in the light, leaving a bright shine of silver across the wall.
Tiredly, he reached his hand up, grabbing the object and holding it to his chest. He felt like such a coward, a mere child trying to play adult games. He was tired of everything, himself most of all. He didn't know what else to do. He had never felt like this before... he had deal with a lot in his life, more than any other human being might have been able to handle, but this... this was just too much... This was something he couldn't deal with, something he couldn't handle. He was just too weak. For all his words and utterings of not needing anyone, of being able to handle everything, he was a spineless coward. A chicken who ran when the going got tough, who turned his back on people again and again at the slightest hint of a challenge. A little boy who walked away from it all and didn't call want anything back until it was out of his grasp, much too late.
His eyes slid shut.
"Squall... there comes a time in your life... times passes and you... sometimes, you just have to... oh, fuck, Squall... I don't know what to say... it's been almost a six months since he left... you can't keep going like this... you're killing yourself... you have to move on, Squall... for your sake as much as his, you have to move on... are you listening? Squall, pay attention to me, for Hyne's sake... I'm trying to help you, here..."
His eyes opened once more, glossy with tears that would not fall. He looked down at the razor in his hand, held carefully with the blade pointed away from his open palm, oddly enough so that he wouldn't cut open his hand. A sigh wracked through his body. Maybe it was the cheap way out, the plan he had toyed with for a few months though never really given serious thought to until lately, but at least it was a way out. That's all he wanted. An escape from the pain, from the hurt. He just wanted to be free. The means to acquiring that escape were beyond him now as far as he was concerned.
He stood up shakily, his legs weak from the lack of nutrition, and set the razor carefully back down on the counter, glancing at it for only the briefest of moments before he turned his attention elsewhere. He then began to take off his clothes with much effort, thankful that he had stopped wearing so many belts a long time ago. Hyne knew he wouldn't have had the strength to take them off at that moment. He barely had the strength to continue standing, his mind and body were crying out for sleep, trying to rebel against him, making him both light-headed and nauseous.
He lifted his head for a moment as he pulled off his shirt and caught himself in the mirror. He blinked a few times. A person he no longer knew stared back at him. Maybe that was why everyone was so worried about him... he looked like he was dead... Like he had already left the land of the living and his body was merely stuck behind in some freak of nature accident. 'Well, might as well make it right...' he thought wryly to himself, shaking his head ever so slightly. If he looked dead and felt dead, he failed to see the point of keeping his body going.
When he was finally undressed, he turned the water on, carefully grabbed the razor once more, and eased himself into the tub.
The warmth of the water rushed over him, sending a slight jolt to his shivering body. He had lost so much weight... he was always cold these days. He didn't even have Shiva to protect him from it anymore. He had unjunctioned her not too long after Seifer had disappeared, when he realised that, for the life of him, he could not hear Seifer speak. He could remember that Seifer had a deep, rich voice, but he could not pull up the voice in his mind. If he tried to replay some of the things Seifer had said to him, it all came back in his voice. That disturbed Squall more than anything else had. He had put Shiva away, hoping the lack of GF's would stir his memory, but almost a year later and he still could not recall. He'd give his own life to hear it again... well, that wasn't really offering much, in retrospect. He was going to give his life anyways.
"Dear Hyne! It's been a year now! Look... we love you to death, we really, really do... but this cannot continue! You have a job to do, responsibilities, obligations! How long do you expect us to continue doing everything for you?"
He knew this was the right thing to do, the only thing to do. He wouldn't be anyone's burden anymore. He wouldn't be the cause of others' worries and despairs. Most of all, he wouldn't be his own cause of misery anymore. He was in a funk, in a hole so deep he didn't even know if there was a light at the end of the tunnel and he had had enough of it. He just wanted peace and quiet, the silence that only came with death it seemed. He longed for it, craved it. It was something he had to have.
He held up the razor to his wrist gingerly, biting at his lip in both concentration and slight fear. 'Are you sure this is what you want? Surely, there must be another way-' He silenced the voice in the back of his mind and forced himself to think of the task at hand. 'I've come this far, I can't stop now. I've backed out of almost everything else in my life, it's time to break that habit once and for all.'
He pushed down on the blade, wincing slightly at the sharp sting. Down, harder, harder, until the crimson began to well up. He dragged the blade down, tearing a ragged line down his flesh. The line criss-crossed with all of the other lines on his arms, vague attempts at having control over something in his body. To him, it looked like a canvas. That was it. His skin was nothing but a giant canvas, and he was the artist. He could do whatever in the hell he wanted; and somehow, he found the marks beautiful. In this sick, twisted way, he was proud of them. Proud of the control he had, proud of the pain he could give and take.
He began to feel light-headed as the blood steadily streamed down his arm, dripping into the bath water, creating some kind of grotesque collage of both cleanliness and death; new beginnings and old retreats. He shook his head to break the feeling. He still had a job left to do.
He switched hands, the razor now in his other hand. It felt odd, but he ignored it, bringing the razor to his non-bleeding wrist. Again, he pressed down, until the blood began to well up and rain down upon the water. Another ragged tear, he never had any idea that skin was so... tough. Maybe it was supposed to be easy and flawless, but he found he was once again having to bear down harder to get it to cut through. Maybe using his gunblade would have been easier... 'No, it's too big and bulky... a dagger might have been better... more romantic, or some other stupid notion like that... whatever... it's too late now, I've already started...'
After a few moments, the cuts deep and long enough for him to feel he had actually accomplished something, he wearily lifted his hand and placed the blood-stained razor on the side of the bathtub. His grip was slack and his aim was off, so the blade slid right off the white porcelain and fell to the floor. The sound of metal against tile seemed to ring throughout the room, making him wince slightly. He eased himself down further and further into the tub until his entire body was submerged in the steaming hot water.
He opened his eyes, the world above him looking almost angelic through the watery haze that clouded his vision. His eyes stung slightly as the water began to gain a pinkish tint to it, but he didn't care. It would finally be done; he would finally be released. "Find a way." They had said. And so, as far as he was concerned, he had.
His eyes closed again.
A soft smile played upon his lips as images flashed through his mind. Fine, he was dying. He was allowed to dwell on his memories, to savour each one of them before he left for good. They were mostly memories of Seifer, of their time together... of his beauty and grace. Seifer... the blonde, arrogant bastard who he loved more than life itself... and the one who loved him... maybe, if he was dead, they'd meet again. He sure hoped so, otherwise would any of this really have a point? Would it all be in vain? It was something he didn't want to think about.
"Hey, you know what I was thinking? Me, you and a vacation for two weeks. C'mon, whadda ya say?"
"Seifer, I can't just get up and run off whenever the mood strikes me. I have-"
"I know, I know. Tons and tons of paper work and an entire army of people who couldn't wipe their own asses unless you were there to hold their hands."
"...Seifer."
"How 'bout just a week then? C'mon, Leonhart, think of all the fun we could have....... Just the two of us...... all alone with no one to bother us..."
"As tempting as that idea sounds, I really do have responsibilities that I must take care of first."
"Aaah, to hell with responsibilities! Get Quistis to take over everything for a while. I'm sure the Instructor won't mind. I think she gets off on work or something. Being in charge and what not."
"Seifer..."
"You know you want to, Squally boy!"
"... You're not going to give up until I agree, are you?"
"Damn straight!"
"......... Fine, fine. You win. We'll go on vacation for a week, but just for a week. After that, we're returning here and you're going to help me with the paperwork for a week."
"Psfh. Fine. You drive a hard bargain, you know that?"
"... You know you like it, Almasy."
"Oooh, score one for the Ice Prince."
It had been the best week of his life, admittedly. Nothing but sun, Seifer and himself. They hadn't needed anything or anyone else. Everything had just been... perfect. They hadn't gotten bored once.
"Love you, Squall."
"Love you too, Seifer."
"Mm... this is nice... just being alone, not having to worry about anything, being able to relax... isn't it?"
"Mmhm."
"We've really gotta learn to do this more often, you know?"
"Yeah, we do."
"You're a sad man, Leonhart. You gotta learn to have a bit more faith in both people and yourself."
Squall's eyes flew open instantly, coldness washing over him. There was no way in hell-
"You can't just leave me hanging like this. You think I'm going to just let you be a little bitch and take the easy way out after all the shit we've been through? Fuck that. Sit your dumb ass up."
He complied silently, his body seemingly working on its' own. His eyes flew around frantically, trying to see through the haziness that encircled his vision.. That voice. The voice he hadn't been able to conjure, hadn't been able to recall to save his life. The one that had haunted him so damn much.
Deep and rich, like it had always been. It was almost melodic, through everything he had found that voice to be lulling, relaxing, even when raised in anger.
But... where was he? He knew he had heard Seifer speak, but for the love of Hyne, where was he?! He couldn't see anything, couldn't seem to get his eyes to focus properly.
Squall let out a small, startled gasp as everything suddenly went dark around him. No, no! This couldn't be happening! He felt his eyes slam shut of their own accord, even as he struggled against his sudden and overwhelming weariness. Seifer... Seifer had come back to him! He had come back! Just like he had promised he would! He couldn't die now, he couldn't give up! Seifer had come back to him! He had to get his eyes open, he had to see Seifer, to tell him he was sorry, that he had been a fool! He inwardly screamed to himself as he felt his body relaxing, slipping back down into the water. There would be no escape, no sweet release now... he had been a coward, like always... once again he had taken away any chance for hope, redemption or happiness... not anyone else, but him... He was left only with the bitter knowledge that if only he had waited just a little bit longer, everything would have been okay. If he hadn't been such an idiot, if he had just stuck it out, hadn't given up faith in both himself and Seifer, then perhaps things could have been differently, perhaps he would have been able to spot the blonde, to rush into his arms like he wanted to, so happy that things had worked out after all, that he had really shown up, true to his word.
He struggled for a few moments, fighting against the sleepiness and darkness that had nearly completely overcome him. It was like trying to swim against the tide, though, and he felt himself drifting further and further away, everything getting darker and darker until he couldn't see at all. In his mind, there was only the shouts of his thoughts, terrified and angry. The world around him had grown completely silent, had left him. Then, he went still, his thoughts dwindling down to nothing. Limp.
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Additional Notes: I don't know why, but even after revamping this chapter, it's still rather short and not up to my par. O.o The other chapters are longer and more to my liking, but this one just refuses to cooperate with me. Please don't tell me about Squall being OOC, because it's Angst!Squall, therefore, IC just very, very..............angsty? I like my Squall to be a bitch, thank you... Anyways, feed me nice thoughts! Give Squall a reason to march on!
Squall: ::blinks::
Seifer has such a potty mouth... X.X