Adult-FanFiction.org : Final Fantasy

Whispered Screams	By : AngryAngel Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 6957 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
"I said 'no ice'!"
"Oh, right. My bad,
dude."
"Yeah, whatever. Hope
you'll at least manage not to mess up the daiquiri. Dumbass."
Scowling, Seifer leaned
onto the booze-splashed bar counter before him. It was sticky and smelled
accordingly disgusting, but the blonde was all too willing to accept that. He
had finally managed to get away from Rinoa and Irvine, if only for a few
minutes to buy a couple of drinks. He had to get drunk fast, or else he wouldn't
make it through the night. Thankfully, he glanced upon the driver's license in
his hand.
'At least I'm old
enough to buy this crap.'
Heaving a mute sigh, he
glanced around the jam-packed club. Disco lights were flittering from every
wall and ceiling, causing the blonde to feel dangerously epileptic. The dance
floor was crowded with kids that were getting down to some club music, but
Seifer felt no urge to join them. Somehow, this day had been nothing short of a
disaster. First his sleepless night, then his fight with Squall (which had been
followed by waves of guilt) and now his splendid night out with Rinoa,
Michelle, Irvine, some guy named Trey and another girl called Dari. Frankly,
Seifer wasn't exactly fond of either of them. Well, not tonight anyway.
They had met up at the
club, "7th Heaven", and Seifer had been extremely glad that Rinoa
lived close and had decided to share a ride with her friend Michelle. At least
that way Seifer didn't have to pick her up and spent time with her in the small,
confined space of his pick-up truck. Just the mere idea sent shivers up his
spine.
People were piling up
along the bar left and right of him, pushing and shoving like the little kids
that they were. Seifer glared at them warningly and thus ensured that they wouldn't
dare to bump into him a second time. With an impatient groan, he turned back to
the pimple-cheeked bartender.
"Do I have to mix
those drinks myself, or what?" he scathed, waving the $20 bill in his hand
languidly before his face.
"Uh, no man, you're
all set. One margarita, one strawberry daiquiri and a beer."
"Took long
enough."
As he slapped the money on
the counter, not even minding that the drinks only added up to about $12, he
did wonder why he was taking out his anger on every poor bastard in his
immediate environment. After all, it wasn't this guy's fault that he had just
blown all his chances of ever hooking up with dear little Leonhart.
The thought elicited a
bitter taste in his mouth, but Seifer washed it out effectively by downing his
margarita in one quick gulp. His throat was burning dryly, but he rather liked
that feeling. Sighing, he flicked up his disturbingly green gaze to fix the
bartender once more.
"On second
thought," he cooed with a wry smirk, "Make that two
margaritas."
The young man arched one
eyebrow wearily, but quickly discarded his concerns over Seifer's eligibility
at the sight of another $20 bill. The blonde was handing them out like candy.
About two minutes later,
Seifer wove his way through the crowd of clubbers, balancing a fresh margarita,
the daiquiri for Rinoa and the beer for Irvine in his large hands. He only
cussed at the kids blocking his path about once or twice.
His group was located
towards the back, in some dark, smoke laden corner. Surprisingly, Rinoa had
turned out to be quite the chain smoker. Seifer didn't really give a fuck.
First of all, he himself had quit only a few months ago, and secondly, he had
no intentions whatsoever of coming anywhere near Rinoa's mouth - not in a sober
state, anyway. Once he'd be drunk, he couldn't care less either way.
"Seifer! Over
here!"
He resisted the urge to
roll his eyes at Rinoa bouncing up and down, waving at him frantically while
her breasts threatened to pop out of her baby blue tube top. Not that Irvine
next to her seemed to mind the sight at all. Quite contrary, Seifer saw him
checking the brunette girl out from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat.
"Here, Seifer!"
'I know you're
over there, dumb bitch. I'd know even if you weren't jumping around like
a playmate on crack.'
He quickly shoved the beer
into Irvine's hands and the daiquiri into Rinoa's, only to take another large
gulp of margarita.
"Thanks,
sweets," Rinoa purred, smiling suggestively as she slurped in a mouthful
of daiquiri through her curly straw.
"Sure," he
mumbled in response, leaning against the wall between her and the cowboy to
avoid catching an entire eyeful of her sucking skills.
For a lack of better
things to do, he cast a long look around. Michelle was still working on her
soda, while Trey and Dari were nowhere to be seen. Not that Seifer minded -
Trey had looked like a full out jackass, and sure had behaved like one, too.
Then again, he was now stuck with these three all on his own and that idea
didn't appeal to him the slightest bit.
"What happened to
Dari and Trey, anyway?" he asked lazily, cocking his head into his neck to
take in the last of his drink.
"Probably making out
somewhere," Rinoa explained with a shrug and placed her chin upon his
shoulder, twirling her glass in her slender fingers. "They've had the hots
for each other for a while now."
"Yeah, and here's
poor me, 'not supposed to be flirting'," Irvine complained and let himself
flop against the wall as well. "It's torture man, torture!"
"Who said you weren't
supposed to be flirting? Your mom?" Michelle snickered invidiously, which
of course erected a fit of giggles from her friend Rinoa.
"No, not his fucking
mom. A chick he likes," Seifer could hear himself explaining - why, he
didn't even know.
"Well, she
sounds like a bitch!" Michelle retorted.
Seifer licked the salt
from the margarita off his lips, but said nothing. He could have told Michelle
that she wouldn't be able to tell a bitch from a smart girl even if she was
slapped in her make-up smothered face with the difference, but he decided to
just let it go. He didn't remember why he had agreed to this evening in the
first place, but he was nonetheless determined to have a good time... somehow.
Unfortunately, Rinoa had
suddenly decided to share her infinite wisdom with the crowd.
"'Chelle's so
right," she declared, brushing some stray strands of hair behind her ear
as she leaned against Seifer's arm. "We're young, we're supposed to be
having fun, right? Now, how can you have fun when you're supposed to play all
prude? That's like, so stupid. Just flirt with whoever you want, Irvy.
It�s not like she�ll ever find out, anyway."
"You think?"
Irvine asked stupidly, and Seifer wanted to bitch slap him for it.
'What a dumbass,' he groaned inwardly. 'This
broad's got jelly for brains and he takes her words for pearls of wisdom.'
"Sure do," Rinoa
sang and threw Seifer a suggestive look.
'Great. Just what I
needed. Rinoa on a hormone and daiquiri high.'
"Talking about
fun," the brunette girl continued slowly, her pink lips curving into a
wicked smile, "Let's dance, Seif!"
"Don't you wanna
finish your drink?" he tried weakly.
"Tch, no! Duh. I can
do that later. Come on!"
Before he could have
resisted, she had already taken the empty glass from his hands and placed it
along with her own on a nearby table. As she began dragging him out onto the
dance floor, he couldn't help but stare at the extremely short, white skirt she
was wearing - or rather, the seemingly endless legs that she was flaunting so
openly. She definitely wasn't hard to look at, he had to give her that. If only
she'd shut the fuck up for once, she'd at least make a good lay. Lately, Seifer
had found himself to be particularly fond of the "silent type."
He thrust a hiss of air
through his teeth and twitched at the memory of Squall as he was being pulled
through a crowd of wildly dancing teenagers.
If his thoughts kept
propelling back to the brunette boy like that, it was a sure sign that he really
needed to get drunk.
And thus Seifer did
exactly that - he drowned his problems and guilt in a number of beers and
margaritas that he soon lost count of. He ground up with both Rinoa and
Michelle on the dance floor, finally releasing all his bottled up frustration
to some fast techno beat. After a while, he didn't even mind the girls'
annoying chattering anymore, nor was he bothered by Irvine's constant whining
about Selphie; in fact, he didn't even hear any of it. He danced, drank and
eventually kissed Rinoa between cigarettes in one of the many dark corners of
the club - until the brunette girl suddenly declared that she needed fresh air.
By then, it was already
past 11:00 p.m. and Seifer was definitely buzzed, but he didn't consider that a
bad thing by any means. He wasn't drunk to a point where he couldn't walk
straight anymore, but was instead feeling rather wired up and giddy inside. The
night was pretty warm and clear, when him, Rinoa, Irvine and Michelle stepped
outside of the club. The dark haired girl was clinging to his arm in desperate
need for support, her heels scraping across the cement as she tried to keep
from stumbling.
"Oh, this is sooo
much better," she sighed and leaned her head against Seifer's shoulder,
smiling as she took a deep breath.
The blonde grinned at her
lazily and ran his hand across her enticing ass.
"Is it?" he
asked lasciviously.
"Yes," she
purred. "Let's go for a walk, there's a park right around the
corner."
"You sure you can
walk?" Irvine inquired, one of his hands intertwined with Michelle's.
Apparently, the cowboy's
"prude" days had ceased before they had even begun.
"Yes, Irvy, I
can!" Rinoa replied defiantly. "Just watch."
A bit wobbly on her legs
and her high heels in particular, she slowly proceeded down the sidewalk.
Seifer gave a curt snort of laughter and followed her, holding on to her waist
as she led her three companions to the dimly lit park a few blocks down the
road. The area was beautiful and appropriately snobbish looking for the
exquisite neighborhood. Black, cast iron street lanterns lit a pebbled path
that wound through perfectly trimmed rows of trees, bushes and exotic flowers.
Rinoa was giggling at Seifer's side, while Irvine and Michelle were walking
behind them and talking about something unimportant. The curly-haired blonde
girl was the only one completely sober, though she didn't necessarily act like
it, either.
"Pshh, Seifer,"
Rinoa suddenly murmured between fits of pointless laughter, "How about you
and I go to your place when we're done here?"
"My place?" he
asked dumbly, still trying to keep her from falling or twisting her ankle.
"Mm-hmm... I told my
parents I might sleep over at �Chelle�s, so... they won't miss me."
"Hmm... Sounds good
to me, babe," Seifer agreed, smirking inwardly with satisfaction.
Like he was going to turn
down an offer like that.
"Oooh, there it
is!"
He blinked in confusion at
Rinoa's happy outcry and soon discovered the reason for it - a small
playground, hidden in a glade that was surrounded by huge, seemingly ancient
trees. A large sandbox was shimmering softly in the light shed by the lanterns,
and a pair of swings was moving gently back and forth in the currents of the
night breeze.
"I love this place, I
always came here as a kid!" Rinoa declared with rapture, before she
suddenly struggled free from Seifer's embrace and stumbled towards a fairly
tall jungle gym.
The blonde watched her as
she clumsily climbed up one of the many ladders, pulled herself up onto a
wooden platform and ultimately waved at them from atop a dangerously swerving
bridge, assuming something like an Amazon's pose as she thrust one fist into
the air.
"Ha-ha, I made it!
See? I'm up here!" she managed to shout, before she started to laugh again
and almost fell over the thick rope that served as a railing for the plank
bridge construction.
Seifer could hear Michelle
and Irvine stepping up next to him, and they were staring at a drunk Rinoa with
equally dumbfounded expressions on their faces.
"Uhm... what's she
doing up there?" the cowboy inquired blankly while tipping his hat into
his neck.
"She gets really
silly when she's drunk," Michelle explained with a shrug. "You might
wanna get her down though, Seifer. She's wearing really high heels
tonight."
"Yeah...
fine..." Seifer agreed in defeat. "I'll get her."
He walked up to the jungle
gym, still smiling, and he could hear the sand grating beneath the soles of his
boots. Rinoa was watching him with interest, somehow keeping herself up
straight as she held onto the railing of the bridge.
"Hey, Rin,"
Seifer shouted, "Come back down. Let's go."
"Nuh-uh! You gotta
catch me first!"
Laughing, she tripled over
the bridge, sticking out her tongue at him as she did so. Seifer heaved a deep
sigh. He was still feeling adventurous, but the cool air was starting to clear
his head a bit. He wasn't really in the mood to chase Rinoa all over a fucking playground,
but what choice did he have? She seemed determined enough to stay up there all
night.
"Alright, I'm getting
ya," he threatened.
"Go ahead and
trrryyy!" Rinoa lilted happily.
Seifer walked up to the
nearest ladder and curled his hands around the cold metal rungs to start
climbing it, carefully placing one foot before the other - until he suddenly
stopped and looked down, his face twitching with disgust.
"Ah, great."
His hands had slipped
across something very gooey and sticky. Apparently, it had been smeared all
over the sleek step of the ladder and was now coating his fingertips. It felt
gross enough, reminding Seifer immediately why he usually chose to stay way
from places like this. He didn't necessarily want to know what exactly said
nasty gunk was, but he moved his hand into the light of the nearest street
lantern all the same. He expected slug slime, dog crap or dirt from the bottom
of some runt's shoes, but what he found was something entirely different.
"What the..."
He stared blankly at the inside
of his hand, not understanding why the sheen of liquid he found there was so
violently red in color.
'Red...? Why red?'
He rubbed his fingers
together slowly, blinking once or twice against the dimness of the light. He
knew what he was seeing, but it didn't make any sense.
"Blood...?"
'Why blood...? On a
playground? What the fuck�s going on...? Did Rinoa hurt herself? No... can't be
Rinoa's. She used a different ladder. But then how...'
Finally, he raised his
confused gaze to where the ladder split and trailed off towards the part of the
jungle gym that Rinoa was occupying, and to a small, open-faced house that was
just a little ways off to his upper right side. Carefully following his
instincts, Seifer ascended the rungs until he was just high enough to catch a
good view of the little hut's interior. He didn't even know what exactly he was
looking for, but somehow he had a bad feeling about this.
This was definitely blood,
and chances were it did not belong to an animal.
He glanced into the house,
which was barely touched by the lantern's cone of light, but at first he did
not see much anything. It was dark, and little else but that. When his eyes got
used to the darkness, however, he almost lost hold of the ladder.
Somebody was sitting inside the house,
curled up to a ball and hidden between the impenetrable shadows. Seifer gasped
silently as the whole entity of that picture hit him.
There was a person
hiding in that hut!
'What the fu--'
The wrapped up body seemed
to be moving slightly, but Seifer wasn't entirely sure. He couldn't see much
except for the back of the person's head, which was covered in a mess of dark
hair, and something white... white shapes that stood out like beacons even in
the darkness. Imprinted upon the figure's sweater, they were oddly shaped
crosses that shifted as the person curled his arms more tightly around his
knees.
'Crosses... white
crosses... Wait a minute... I've seen this before, I--'
When he finally
remembered, Seifer let go off the ladder.
He landed ass first on the
ground with a thud, cursing at the hurt that seared through his tailbone at the
rough contact with the sand pit. He quickly forgot all about the pain, though,
when he relived what he had just seen. His breathing stilled to a crawl as he
stared up at the bottom of the hut in a frantic blank.
'Can't be. It can't be
him. I gotta be hallucinating. This isn't--'
"Seifer, are you
okay?"
"Hey man, you
alright? What happened? Why'd you fall?"
Apparently, Rinoa had
already descended from the jungle gym, because he found her crouching next to
him, creasing her brows with concern as she stupidly checked him for broken
bones. Irvine had walked up behind him and was readily helping him upon his
feet.
The blonde's mind was
working on light speed as he brushed the sand off his jeans and tried to stay
calm. He could not believe what he had discovered up there. That was Squall's
shirt he had seen, and Squall's hair, and Squall's...
He froze when he suddenly
recalled the blood covering the palm of his hand. Quickly, he clenched it to a
fist, hiding it behind his back. He didn't know what to do and his head was
spinning painfully with the adrenaline and the alcohol, but he did know one
thing: if that really had been Squall, then Rinoa and the others could not see
like this, hiding like a shameful little child on a playground. Seifer had to
get rid of them somehow.
"Seifer, what--"
"Let's go," he
commanded sharply, before spinning around and trudging off towards the pebbled
path.
The other three exchanged
confused looks, but quickly followed Seifer's lead. The blonde was charging
down the tree-lined trail, only barely restraining himself from falling into a
sprint. His heart was pounding in his chest with every step that he took and his
breathing had altered, taken on an erratic rhythm.
"Seifer! Seifer,
wait! What the... Irvine, make him stop! Seifer!"
Rinoa was calling out to
him, but the blonde slowed down only marginally. The shock had cleared his head
from the buzz that had been fogging it, but he still couldn't manage to think
one straight thought.
'Maybe it wasn't his
blood. Maybe it wasn't even Squall. Maybe I'm making all of this up. Maybe it's
just the booze getting to my head. But what if it is his blood? I should
have stayed; maybe he's badly hurt. But he was moving... why would he be hurt,
anyway? He wouldn't be hiding in the top hut of a jungle gym if he were. Unless
he hurt himself while trying to get up there. But that's bullshit; it's a
fucking playground. But then why... Fuck. I have to get rid of them so I can go
back and check to make sure.'
They had reached the
street, and Seifer was heading towards the parking lot where they had left
their cars earlier that night. Somewhere behind him, Rinoa was screaming like a
mad banshee, but he didn't pay her any mind until she and the others had
actually managed to catch up with him and the brunette girl grabbed his arm.
"Why are you going so
fast?" she yelled at him, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and anger.
"I'm going
home," he stated evenly, avoiding her eyes. "Alone."
"W-what? But why?
What's wrong all of a sudden?"
"I changed my mind,
that's all."
"Why? Because I was
playing around a bit? Come on, don't be such a--"
"Look, Rinoa, just go
home, alright? Go with Michelle, or go with Irvine for all that I care. I'm not
taking you."
"But you're drunk,
you can't drive!" she exclaimed, her voice high and off pitch.
Snarling, he looked down
upon her and swiped his arm out of her grasp. He couldn't believe that he had
been making out with her only about a half hour ago. Just what had he been
thinking?
"You didn't seem to
mind that when you were still planning on coming with me," he replied
coldly.
"Seriously man, why
the sudden rush?" Irvine cut in.
"I gotta go home and
fucking take care of something, alright?"
"But--" Rinoa
piped up helplessly.
"No,
Rinoa."
With that, he hit the
remote lock for his truck, opened the door and hopped into his seat, starting
the engine before he had even bothered to fully close the door again. Irvine, Rinoa
and Michelle watched him dumbfounded as he pulled out of the parking lot and
onto the road, quickly disappearing around the bend of the next corner.
By then, Seifer had
already forgotten all about them. Of course he wasn't going home. He had
to get back to that playground without the others noticing. Fortunately, most
parks had more than just one entrance or exit, and so did this one. After
driving around the area for a few minutes, carefully keeping watch for any sign
of his friends' cars, he found another cast iron gate that obviously led into
the park.
He stopped in a dimly lit
alleyway, almost surprised by the sudden silence that surrounded him as he
pushed his door ajar. An owl was hooting in a distant treetop and the wind was
rustling through the leaves, but other than that, it was perfectly quiet.
With his heart beating
almost into his throat, he roamed the backseat for his first aid case. He had
never used it before, and he could only hope that it would stay that way even
through the night.
Finally, he found it, and
he lost no more time after that. The idea of Squall possibly being hurt caused
his skin to break out in goose bumps. Nothing of what he had told the brunette
that morning had been true; he wasn't sick of him, nor did he think of
him as a whiny little bitch. Somehow, he had just lost his nerves, and he was
suddenly very afraid that he would have to pay for that mistake.
He locked his car and
entered the enveloping darkness of the park, silently following the lead of the
lanterns. He had no real idea where he had to go; he could merely make vague
assumptions based on the direction where him and the others had first commenced
their little walk. He was clutching the black, plastic case of the first aid
kit tightly in one hand - the one that was still faintly streaked with drying
blood.
The sound of his own
footsteps was echoing in his ears, but he drowned it out instinctively as soon
as he finally spotted the familiar clearing of trees with the playground set in
its center. He sent a mute thank you to the black, star spangled sky, knowing
full well that he could as well have searched the grounds all night and never
found this spot again.
Quietly, he crossed from
stones onto sand and approached the jungle gym, his mouth suddenly dry and
coarse like sandpaper. He didn't know what he would find up in that little hut
- whether he would find anything at all. The inside of his hand was growing
clammy, and he almost dropped the case as he was trying to ascend the wooden
ladder.
His breath was coming heavier
with every rung that he conquered, until he had finally reached the end.
Gulping, he pushed himself upwards, and he only barely managed not to tumble
face first onto the floor.
The person was still
there.
Mechanically, Seifer drug
his body over the ledge of the hut and inside. The ground beneath him was of
smoothly sanded wood, but even there the blonde quickly discovered a few, tiny
speckles of blood.
Slowly, he leveled his
gaze with the motionless figure that was sitting only an arm's length away from
him. He doubtlessly remembered the black shirt, the white crosses, the dark
blue jeans and the black leather boots from that morning.
That hair, he would have
recognized anywhere.
"Squall...?" he
asked tentatively, his voice unnaturally shaky.
The brunette was leaning
against the wall, his legs drawn close to his chest and his arms wrapped around
his knees. His face was turned away from Seifer, buried in the crook of his
left elbow.
Silently, Seifer set his
first aid case onto the ground.
"Squall... it's me.
Seifer."
Hesitantly, the blonde
pulled one of his own legs to his chest and skidded over the floor to sit
across from the motionless figure. He laced his brows together in concern,
unsure of what to do next.
'Maybe he fell
asleep...? What if he's unconscious?'
"Squall?" he
repeated, more urgently now. "Are you awake?"
When he again received no
response, he hesitantly extended one arm. His fingers were gradually reaching
for the brunette's leg, but...
"... Leave me alone."
He started at the sound of
Squall's voice that shattered the silence, and he immediately withdrew his
hand. Seifer suddenly realized that he had been holding his breath all this
time, and he exhaled very gingerly as his hand clenched back into a fist. Squall
still wouldn't even look at him.
Finally, the blonde
cleared his throat and rubbed his thigh in distress. His palms had somehow
become very sweaty.
"Uh... I... I was
wondering if you were okay," he murmured, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"There's blood everywhere."
"I don't care."
The blonde bit his lip in
anxiety, not entirely sure what to make of that statement.
"Is that your
blood?" he asked slowly.
Squall didn't answer him
this time. Seifer could see that he was shifting in his seating position and was
wrapping his arms tighter around his legs. The blonde didn't quite know or
understand why, but somehow that nervous silence and those stiff movements were
answer enough.
"Where are you
bleeding?" he inquired calmly, willing his voice to remain steady.
"I'm not
bleeding..."
"I don't believe
you."
Another moment of silence
ensued, rendering Seifer hesitant of as to what to do next. He wanted to
approach Squall, but he didn't know how. He didn't want the brunette to flip
again, not when he was possibly hurt. He had no idea where Squall was bleeding,
or why he would be bleeding in the first place. Why wasn't he at home or at a
doctor's if he was injured? Why was he hiding out there in the darkness? Why
was he sitting like that, looking like a frightened little kid? Why was he
holding his arms at such an awkward angle against his knees, why--
'... Oh my god.'
Finally, it hit him.
Once more, Seifer extended
his arm, but this time his hand trailed to the spot where the blonde presumed
Squall's wrists to be. He didn't even have to search. As soon as he felt the
brunette's cool skin against his own, he wrapped his fingers around the narrow
limb and pulled it towards himself.
"No! Ouch..."
Beneath his thumb, Seifer
could feel the lacerated flesh and the warm sheen of blood covering every inch
of it. Squall had winced and gone stiff at his touch, causing Seifer's breath
to hitch.
"Ugh... let go..."
And Seifer did. He had
gotten his answer, and he didn't like the outcome of it at all. In fact, he
hated it from the very bottom of his heart.
Squall was curling up to a
ball again, pressing both of his hurting wrists against his legs - there was no
doubt in Seifer's mind that the other limb looked just as bad as the one he had
just examined. He could merely stare at the brunette, too shook up to say or do
anything. He couldn't believe it. Squall's skin had felt so... destroyed.
Like someone had slashed into it multiple times with a meat cleaver.
'No... Not someone. He
did. This is what he's been hiding under those goddamned wristbands all this
time. I'm such a fool.'
Slowly, Seifer pushed
himself onto his knees and crawled over to the brunette until he was perched
right in front of him. Squall was breathing flatly and seemed to be trembling.
Very gently, the blonde laid one hand on the other youth's shoulder as he bent
over him, before using his other to take a hold of Squall's chin and carefully
tilt it upwards.
The brunette's face scared
Seifer much more than the blood and shredded skin had. Darkness had drowned out
all the blue in Squall's eyes and slicked them with tears instead. Squall's
skin was so pale that Seifer started to worry over the amount of blood that the
brunette might have already lost. There wasn't much splattered about on the
jungle gym, but who knew where Squall had been before.
Where he had done this to
himself.
"Squall," Seifer
said, his voice firm but gentle. "You need help."
"No," the
brunette replied, the word weak and almost inaudible.
"Yes," the
older objected unyieldingly. "I have a first aid kit here. I'm gonna stop
the bleeding."
He pulled the black case
closer, but never took his eyes off Squall. The brunette looked upset, but too
frail to offer much resistance. Then again, it wasn't really defiance that
Seifer read in his dark grey orbs - more like shame or fear.
"Don't worry,"
Seifer clumsily tried to efface his worries. "It's alright."
Of course, it was
everything but all right. Seifer knew why people cut their wrists, or at
least he thought that he did. People did this to commit suicide � they did it
because they didn�t want to live anymore. He figured that this wasn't the first
time that Squall had hurt himself, but that didn't make it any better. The
entire concept of it scared the shit out of Seifer, and he wasn't even ashamed
of admitting it.
'Don't panic... you
found him in time. He'll be all right. He will be. I'll make fuckin' sure
that he will be.'
With a few, swift
movements he had opened the case and produced a couple of sterile bandages. For
the first time in his life, he was genuinely thankful for the fact that both of
his parents were doctors and had taught him all the necessary first aid basics
as soon as he had started driving. He wrapped the brunette's wrists up nicely,
ensuring to add an extra roll of bandage each for pressure.
Neither of them spoke a
word while Seifer was funneling all his concentration to this task. He didn't
care that he smeared blood all over his own hands, but Squall was watching the
scene with a strange blankness in his eyes. The thought of struggling against
what Seifer was doing didn't even occur to him. He simply stared at the blonde
in awe, studying the serious expression that was dragging on his bronzed
features and the gentleness of his touch.
"Okay," Seifer
sighed eventually, examining his work. "This should help for now."
The two boys gazed at each
other mutely, devoid of any further words. Suddenly, all the bitterness and
anger that had echoed between them that morning was forgotten, and all that was
left was silence. Seifer did want to say something, but he was still too
confused and shocked to trust his voice to hold, and Squall felt too ashamed to
try and explain his actions.
Not that there was any
kind of explanation that Seifer would have ever understood.
Finally, Seifer managed to
change his focus to something other than Squall's almost translucent face.
Outside their hut, the night had grown even darker and colder, or perhaps he
only imagined that. Either way, he suddenly had a distinct idea of what to do
next.
"Let's go," he
murmured, closing his first aid kit with a click.
"Go...?" Squall
repeated, his voice swaying audibly as his brows slid low over his eyes.
"Yeah. You think I'm
going to leave you here?"
"Come on. I'll help
you down."
This time, Seifer managed
to descend the ladder without landing square on his ass. Instead, he leaped
lightly to the bottom, where he stood patiently and looked up to the hut,
waiting for Squall to follow his example.
"Come on," he
repeated, already preparing to climb the ladder once more.
But finally, the soles of
Squall's boots appeared over the ledge and the brunette edgily lowered himself
onto the ladder, his hands wrapping around its sides. The white bandages stood
out against the darkness like headlights. Seifer immediately stepped up beneath
Squall, ready to catch him in case he would slip or let go.
"I'm not gonna
fall," the brunette suddenly stated weakly from up above, a faint trace of
his usual stubbornness shining through the mesh of hurt.
"Of course not,"
Seifer replied calmly, but did not move an inch from his position.
He didn't know how much
blood Squall had lost, but he didn't trust the brunette's steadiness one bit.
He figured it best to get Squall to a hospital and have him checked out.
'But first he has to
get down here.'
Seifer watched patiently
how the dark haired boy was slowly descending the rungs, feigning strength that
was no longer there. His wrists in its white wrappings were shaking noticeably.
His feet, however, didn't
slip until only about a meter and a half were separating him from the firm
ground.
Squall's ankles hurt as
they hit the sandpit at an acute angle and he almost bit off his tongue at the
impact. Somehow, he had managed not to fall, but the simple reason for that occurred
to him as soon as he felt Seifer's hands on the iron ladder beams, right
beneath his own. In fact, even the blonde's arms and upper body were pasted
against his like a second skin, granting him the steadiness that his own
muscles couldn't quite come up with anymore.
He stood frozen for a
moment, feeling Seifer's chest rising and falling against his back, his mind
eradicated of any kind of thought.
"Are you
alright?" the blonde asked him, his breath hot and vibrant against
Squall's cheek as he edged closer.
The shorter boy nodded
slowly, heat flushing through his body as he stared at the sand to his feet.
Seifer's scent seemed to envelope him like his arms already were. He smelled of
alcohol, cigarettes and some flowery perfume... probably Rinoa's. He had heard
both of them earlier on the playground, fooling around. Where was Rinoa now,
anyway? Why had Seifer come back? After everything that had happened that
morning, what did he even care?
The questions were causing
Squall's head to spin violently and he groaned under the sensational overload.
'He's... too close...'
As if Seifer had guessed
the brunette's feelings, he suddenly retreated from Squall's rigid form. He had
dropped the first aid case when he had seen Squall falling and now bent down to
pick it back up. All the while, he was watching the other youth from the corner
of his eyes, but Squall seemed okay for the time being. Except, he was still
holding on to that ladder...
"Squall?" Seifer
asked calmly, one step bringing him back to the motionless body. "You sure
you're alright?"
"Y-yeah."
Frowning, the blonde
looked over his shoulder into the darkness of the park that was only broken by
the faint light of the lanterns. He seriously wondered whether the hurting
brunette would make it.
"I didn't park very
far from here," he explained quietly. "I can carry you there
easily."
"No..."
Squall slowly stepped away
from the ladder, fighting against the droning sound in his head that threatened
to throw off his equilibrium. He knew that Seifer was watching over his every
move, and though the concept did anger him, he was also sort of... grateful. A
strange, alien thankfulness for the fact that he wasn't alone out there
anymore... that somebody actually cared. At the same time, it frightened him
and he felt ashamed. There were so many different feelings and emotions
struggling within him for recognition, he had no idea how to handle them or
which one to devote his undivided attention to.
"You sure?"
Seifer inquired behind him. "You're light, it's really no big--"
"I can walk."
"... Alright."
Seifer attached himself to
Squall's side as he led him off the playground, never letting him out of his
arm's reach.
"It's this way,"
he said, pointing down one of the many narrow paths.
Squall said nothing, but
continued walking. He was feeling light-headed from the blood loss - something
he was all too used to. Perhaps he had gone a little too far this night, he
wasn't sure. His aching wrists were accusing him of insanity, and they were
probably right. In some twisted way, that thought almost amused him.
"Not far
anymore," Seifer informed him quietly.
The brunette didn't even
know why he was following Seifer. Maybe because he knew he couldn't make it
home on his own two legs anymore, or maybe because Seifer had looked at him
so... genuinely shocked. It had been an understandable reaction, naturally, but
Squall had certainly been surprised at the lack of disgust in Seifer's
eyes when the blonde had found out the truth - when he had touched his
mutilated wrists. Why hadn't Seifer freaked out? It was the least that Squall
would have expected from him, or anyone for that matter. After all, he had once
been told that the practice of cutting oneself was sickening.
Silently, he agreed.
Squall stopped brooding
when Seifer finally ushered him out of the park gate and towards a familiar,
bright red truck. For some strange reason, another thought suddenly stirred in
Squall's mind, and he blamed it on his defense mechanisms that worked
flawlessly even when his body did not.
"You want to drive...?"
he asked, looking at Seifer for the first time since they had departed from the
playground.
The blonde angled his head
down to him, gazing at him out of those impossibly green eyes. Those emerald
depths, paired with his already swerving mind, were enough to cause Squall's
temples to spasm. Groaning, he rubbed at them in the faint hopes of easing the
pressure.
"Yeah, I do. What
about it?" Seifer asked, studying his twitching expression. "What's
wrong? Feeling dizzy?"
"No..." Squall
lied, biting down upon his teeth. "And you shouldn't drive... you're
drunk..."
"Maybe I am, but
you're about to reel over," Seifer stated with a soft shrug. "Guess
we're shit out of luck."
"You smell like a
liquor store... and I've seen you drive when you were sober."
"Alright then. Want
me to carry you? It's either that or the truck."
Squall stopped massaging
his forehead and glared daggers at Seifer instead. There was no humor in the
blonde's eyes, though - apparently, he was dead serious. Sighing, the brunette
dropped his hands to his sides.
"Fine. Drive."
"Good," Seifer
nodded in satisfaction, "At least we got that out of the way. Now you just
gotta tell me where the next hospital is."
Seifer hadn't quite
expected for the younger boy to suddenly take a half step back from him, his
eyes wide and flaring white around the rim.
"I'm not going to the
hospital!" Squall thrust out, the hard and yet shaky tone of his voice
leaving little room for arguments.
He was downright scared.
In an attempt of a
soothing gesture, Seifer raised his hands, but he couldn't keep his face from
crumpling to a disapproving frown.
"Alright, alright
already! Don't freak out on me," he sighed. "... Why don't you want
to go to the hospital?"
"Because I don't need
to see a doctor," Squall explained reluctantly. "I'll be fine."
"Right. Of course.
'Cause you've done this before," Seifer stated dryly, but not without a
hint of bitterness to his voice.
Apparently, the brunette
could find no appropriate response to that, because he dropped his head in
silence. His long, dark bangs fell smoothly into his face and hid it from view,
and somehow, that picture quenched Seifer's frustration instantly.
"Where did you think
I was going to take you...?" he finally asked gently.
"I don't know...
home..."
"Home? You want to go
home looking like this?" he inquired, the quietness in his tone
taking the sting out of the question.
At the same time, he
pointed at Squall�s haphazardly bandaged wrists, though he knew well that the
brunette couldn�t see the gesture.
"... No..."
Squall admitted wearily.
"Didn't think so,
considering you were hiding out here in the darkness."
Squall fell silent again,
but Seifer had already begun to think of a way to solve this problem. His list
of options was running thin, and the one that appealed to him the most would
probably cause the brunette to flip. Then again, he decided, it was at least
worth a shot. One way or another, he had to do something, because he was
certainly not willing to leave Squall out there in the darkness.
No way in hell.
"Alright," he
started confidently, "Get in the car. I have an idea."
The other teen finally
raised his head back up, meeting Seifer's enthusiastic gaze.
"Where are we
going?"
"My place."
"Your--?" Squall
started, his eyes widening once more.
"Yeah," Seifer
nodded.
"I'm not go--"
"Alright, look. It�s
either the hospital, your place or my place. I'm not leaving you out here,
period. So if you wanna avoid being asked a bunch of nosy questions over why
your wrists are looking... the way they're looking... you might wanna come with
me to my apartment and at least let me patch them up properly."
Before Squall could have
shot down the idea entirely, Seifer simply stepped up to him and fixed him with
a look that was burning with determination. The brunette remained silent, but
stared back at Seifer with thinly veiled mistrust. He had to admit, however,
that the blonde had made a valid point. Returning home at this hour would prove
problematic, as his mother was probably still awake. He had told her that he
would go to the club and party with some friends, but instead he had done this.
If it hadn't been for the cutter he had found in his pockets, perhaps he...
sighing, he narrowed his eyes. What did it matter? What was done was done and
he'd just have to deal with the consequences.
Just like he always did.
Originally, he had planned
on simply waiting until his mother had fallen asleep and sneak back into his
room then, but Seifer would likely make him go home right now. Maybe hanging
out at his place for a little while wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Then again...
"What about your
parents?" he asked slowly.
Seifer merely smirked
complacently.
"I live alone.
There's no one at my place you'd have to be worried about except for my
dog."
"... You have a
dog?"
The blonde frowned a bit
at the incredulity in Squall's voice, but he was also slightly perplexed by the
sudden interest that the comment about his dog seemed to have elicited. Squall
was chewing on the corner of his bottom lip, his arms crossed tightly before
his chest, but there was definitely a spark of curiosity in his eyes that
hadn't been there before.
"Yeah, I do,"
Seifer answered, then cocked his head aside. "Don't tell me you're afraid
of dogs now."
"... No."
And to Seifer's great
surprise, the brunette suddenly turned around and circled the truck, very
slowly, eventually walking up to the passenger door. Then, he simply stood
there, waiting for the blonde to shut off the alarm and unlock the car.
Mechanically, Seifer complied with the mute order and hit the buttons of his
remote control. Arching one eyebrow, he watched how Squall opened the door and
wordlessly slid into his seat, not heeding the blonde out on the sidewalk with
a single look.
Sighing to himself, Seifer
slowly shook his head.
"... You sure are a
strange guy, Squall Leonhart. Just what am I gonna do with you...?"
- 8
- 9
- 10
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Whispered Screams