route_1065 | If we could sit together a moment

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If we could sit together a moment

Who: Squall Leonhart and Firion
Where: The Dark Cave
When: Wednesday
Summary: Firion finally finds Squall in the Dark Cave and they have a chat.
Rating: PG to be safe?
Log:
After talking to Zidane, Firion approached the Dark Cave and, true its name, it was very dark inside. He reached into his pack and pulled out a flashlight, turning it on and going inside. This world's technology still made him gawk sometimes. It had taken him awhile to figure out how a flashlight even works. A torch without a flame? He didn't get it and in the end, never did. He just new he needed those battery things whenever the light wouldn't turn back on.

He was lucky to have Wild Rose with him as she was the most effective against all these rock Pokemon, but still, he didn't find Squall. Worse still, he got lost. It had been a long time since he had been in this cave and the last time he had another companion. Firion sighed dejectedly, where could Squall have gone? And why did he leave his Pokemon?! It was almost suicidal! No, it was suicidal. He knew Squall liked to be alone but they had all been effected by those nightmares and they all knew Squall had gotten the worst of it all.

"Damn it, Squall," He murmured, crossing his arms, flashlight still in hand. He didn't pay attention during that split second of no light and luck was not on his side. The ground abruptly dropped off. With a startled yelp, Firion felt down the ledge. He was lucky it was hardly more than a five feet, but the staggered way he had fallen meant he found himself sprawled on the ground, knees skinned and scraps on his hand from trying to catch himself. But, it could have been worse and that was the good. "Ow..."

Well, his flashlight had survived, at least. Firion stood up and went to grab it.

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The sound of something falling drew Squall's attention, but for only a second. Whatever it was, it was far away from him to pay it really no mind. It meant nothing, was nothing. He was in a secluded section of the cave, a portion where few traveled. Only other pokemon dared to bother him and his two 'guards' took cared of them easily. Whatever felled, it didn't concern him. The only thing that concerned him was what he was doing.

The bite of sharp stone across his forearm and the consequent pain was liberating. Squall sighed softly in the darkness. It took him a day (or maybe two) of constant sharpening to get an edge. An edge that can easily cut through his skin and draw his blood, just like had had almost done to Firion, to the others when the fog was still rampant. when he was out of control, when he became a weapon designed to destroy everything around him--like he was originally trained to be.

He was a mercenary. A soldier. A weapon.

His control should have been better than that. He should have known better, should have stopped himself from harming anyone--from hurting Firion. It was only a miracle that he didn't go after the others, Warrior and Cecil. A blessing, almost. Squall scowled.

This sojourn was about atonement, punishment. His arms and knuckles were bruised (bloodied) from constant attacking on walls and rocks. His legs were equally injured. Diablos, his Duskull, and Pandemonium (Drifloon) watched his progress, occasionally using their own attacks on him. Though it took Squall too long to convince them to attack him.

He had to get stronger. And this was the only way he knew how, to train his body, to hone his skills. He had been lacking, he hadn't been able to keep up his training and that, that had to be the reason why he succumbed so easily to the mind control of these two pokemon.

They were strong, yes, but he had to be stronger than them. He had to. He was trained to be one of the strongest and most skilled SeeDs ever since he first enrolled into Garden. It was his purpose, his mission to become stronger, to be strong enough so...

Sis wouldn't worry about him.

At least that was his reasoning back then, now it was completely different. He had to be strong enough for her, for Rinoa's sake. Now that she was her own Sorceress, he had to be strong enough to be her knight, to protect her like he promised he would.

Slicing his arm with a sharpened edge stone, attacking the walls of the Cave and the stalagmites with his bare hands--all of it was part of his training, to make him remember to never forget. Even if the memories faded, the scars on his arms from the stone would make sure he would always know (instinctively) what he did. All of this 'training', this atonement, was something he always would do, it was a part of his nature to go off and punish himself this way.

One of the reasons why Cid never punish him for whatever rule-breaking Squall committed; Squall did a better job of punishing himself. Better than anyone else would, could.

The fact he trained in complete darkness was completely intentional, just like the wounds he inflicted on himself. The wounds he had to make damn sure no one would see whenever he left this place. Not any time soon, for sure. maybe in the future when he finally felt ready to face the world.

His emotions were still raw, his mental shields still not fully up. Isolating himself, in this darkness, was the only way for him to cope with what he done but the guilt still nagged at him. Probably will always nag at him. Firion was his ally, his... friend.

Squall shouldn't have attacked him. But he did and that meant... he could attack anyone else if he ever succumbed to another's control at anytime. Someone like Rinoa.

He scowled, slashing at his forearm once more, using the pain to get rid of that line of thing. He'll get stronger. He had to. Didn't the saying go like 'a strong body, a strong mind'? If he trained his body long enough, his mind should be stronger as well. Right?

Firion moved the flashlight all around, trying to figure out where he was. Unfortunately, he could hardly get his bearings from this and continued moving forward. What the light shined next on made him gasp in horror and run forward. "Squall!!" He shouted, quickly moving past the Ghost Pokemon to kneel down to his friend.

It didn't take long to figure out that Squall hadn't been attacked by other Pokemon. Most of his wounds came from himself. He saw the sharpened stone and reached for it. "What are you doing?!"

Squall winced when the light hit his eyes. The yelling of his name made him flinch again before letting out a soft growl when his ally came closer. There was a reason why he left that note, he wanted to be alone. For however long he wished. Didn't they understand that? If Firion was here, no doubt Cecil and the Warrior wouldn't be far behind.

"Firion," he spoke evenly as the weapon-master knelt next to him. When Firion reached for the stone, Squall immediately tucked it into one of his pockets.

"What do you think?" The SeeD scoffed, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

His arms were littered with new and relatively healed thin lines of injuries--none of which were anywhere near the old faint burn scars on his wrists, but would that matter much to Firion, Squall didn't know.

He only wore a simple gray t-shirt. His jacket set aside with the few things he brought with him, along with his gloves. All his injuries were laid out in front of Firion. If Squall knew he was going to have company, he would have put on his jacket.

The only thing he had on his was his scarf, so he took that off and took hold of Squall's arms, his tone brooking no argument. "Why are you hurting yourself? Do you have any idea how worried everyone is and all you've been doing is sitting here doing this?" He dabbed at the wounds, he ignored the burn scars since those looked old enough anyway. That would be for something Squall to explain.

Right now, he had the cuts to worry about. "Damn it, Squall," He muttered. "You have not listened to a word anyone has said to you, have you?"

Squall grunted, looking away from Firion, "This wasn't all I was doing." He was training. He was only taking a break from last session when Firion found him. In the distance, Diablos and Demon hovered nearby before passing through the walls to amuse themselves. Obviously, his pokemon wouldn't be of any help for him when dealing with Firion.

He sighed heavily, pushing Firion's hands off his arms. "They'll heal. You don't have to do that." All injuries heal, with time. The physical ones at least.

"And what else were you doing?" He grabbed Squall's arms again. "They'll heal better when I have tended to them."

Firion was both worried and angry at Squall. How could he do this to himself?! He sighed heavily himself. "We have all been looking for you. How could you leave your Pokemon behind like that? That note was hardly much and now you are sitting here cutting yourself? For what purpose?!"

"Training." He shrugged off Firion's grip. "Maybe but you still don't have to do that." Tending to his wounds, Firion shouldn't be doing that, no one should. Let them fester, let them get infected. I don't care. He wanted them to heal over, to scar over. He didn't slice his arms deep enough for him to bleed out. He knew better than that.

"They're reminders," Squall answered after a moment of silence to Firion's last question. "So I don't forget." And forget he would, eventually. It was a consequence of using Guardian Forces back home but if he had physical reminders, he might still be able to remember what made him cut himself. Might.

Obviously when he left this cave, he was going to need to buy a journal. The one he had been using for the Conflict was already full, written text of his thoughts and feeling throughout the Conflict and toward the end of the War back on his world.

As for Firion's other questions, "I knew you guys would take care of them." The Mouse would no doubt start to cling to them and easily be accepted into one of his allies' parties, right? As for the Dragon, the dragon was strong enough to protect them if they needed it, them and the mouse. He didn't need his other pokemon with him to see what he was going to do to himself after he left.

Just like he didn't want anyone near him to see what exactly he would do if he was left alone after a traumatic event. "Didn't want you all to worry."

"Tr-Training? Training for what?!" Firion asked, sitting back and struggling not to strike out. And when Squall said they were reminders, it was all starting to make sense. "Don't forget what? That someone made you attack me? How many times do we have to tell you that we don't blame you?! I don't blame you!"

With a final small cry, his hand flew, slapping Squall across the face as hard as possible. "Do you have any idea how many people I have already lost?! The war, the conflict, I am always at risk of losing people. But then, I found myself here and most of my friends have arrived and now because of something a Pokemon did to you.. you would willingly hurt yourself and keep away and all you can say is that you didn't want to worry us? That you are doing this to remind yourself of a crime you didn't commit? Shame on you!"

He didn't even realize tears were falling until he sat back and pressed his hands to his eyes. After a few moments to steady his breathing, his throat beginning to hurt again but he ignored it for now.

"I care for you. We all care for you too much Squall," He finally murmured, taking his hands away and hugging himself. "Didn't you learn nothing during the Conflict?"

His head didn't move after the slap made his neck turn toward the right. The pain in his cheek was welcomed. He deserved it, in a way. Listening to Firion's tirade, Squall bit back a sigh and forced himself from shrugging. Firion was always one of the more emotional warriors from the Conflict, he knew that but he never experienced the Weapon Master's first hand.

Not until now. Firion was laying out everything on the table, so to speak. Everything the weapon master felt, he was yelling it at Squall. It was something, Squall wasn't used to. He never thought much about emotions, having spent so long trying to be a literal Ice King. At least until Rinoa happened.

During the Conflict, he was forced into survival mode, falling back on years of conditioning to try and keep his emotions at bay. His only intention bent on finishing his mission, on finding his crystal and heading back home (if he had a home left; just because they defeated Ultimecia, it didn't mean that his time was stable, that he could go back to Balamb and find everything alright and normal).

Slowly, he turned his head, staring at Firion for a moment. "It's not a matter of you blaming me. It's about me blaming myself." His lips twitched lightly (wryly), "I was used, abused--manipulated. I did something I shouldn't have. My control should have been better. And yet, these things..."

He jerked his head toward his ghost pokemon, "They took that all away from me. They slipped under my defenses and made me attack an ally, a friend. I prided myself on my strength but I wasn't strong enough. In the end, I wasn't strong enough to stop myself.

"Don't know why you care about me. I was never that nice to you, any of you. We only fought together for the same cause. Nothing else, nothing more. We never traveled together, either, Firion. And you care about me? Why?"

"Then Light and Cecil should be blaming themselves as well," Firion replied back, a bit harsher than he intended. "Light's own Pokemon was the cause for him seeing Darkness. No one was strong enough during this whole ordeal! I could not stand to watch you in your nightmare and I was helpless. I couldn't help you."

And that had hurt. It hurt a lot more than the bruises on his neck. Firion's eyes narrowed at Squall. "It's because you are my friend. You are a comrade and thus my friend. It doesn't matter if we didn't travel together, I just... I still do."

Firion cared because he was afraid of losing his friends again. Which was a bit backwards as most would push people away with that fear. But he wanted to know them and care for them as long as possible and as hard as possible. He reached out to take a hold of Squall's shirt and pull the teen toward him, wrapping his arms around him soon after. "Please, don't hide yourself away from us."

Squall stiffened, unused to anyone (except Rinoa) hugging him outright. His eyes widened before he awkwardly raised his arms and to return the hug. At least that's what someone was supposed to if they were hugged, right? The feel of someone's body warmth next to his was comforting but awkward. Very awkward, but it wasn't something that Squall was willing to admit he disliked.

It was different when his fire type pounced on him for a hug, at least those were 'hugs' that he got used to after a while. But this was another human hugging him. A person who wasn't Rinoa. Or Zell for that one time in D-District but that was acceptable. They were thankful for him saving them. Though with Rinoa it was more than just thanks. It was a statement of showing she cared for him, deeply.

"You don't know me," Squall commented after a moment of silence, "You don't know anything about me but you consider me your friend."

"I don't have to know everything about you," Firion murmured, pulling away after a few moments of more silence. "I know enough."

He was silent again and ripped his scarf in half. This time, simply reached for Squall's arm and wrapped the more damaged part with his scarf. Taking the other arm, his eyes brooking no argument, he did the same. Once tied off he looked into Squall's eyes. "Please, stop hurting yourself and come back. We all miss you and we are all terribly worried. We are also here for you. That is what means to be a friend," He smiled softly. "We will be with you during your troubled times every step of the way. I know you want to become stronger and you can, I'll help you. But this is not the way.

Please?"

Squall glanced at his wrapped injuries before looking at Firion in the eye again. "I'm not hurting myself." At least that's now how he saw it but he was being honest. Firion bared enough of himself that Squall knew he had to return the favor and before he knew it, the words just kept coming (almost a bit too easily for him; as if he really wanted to tell all this to someone for some time). "I'm making sure I don't forget."

It wasn't just about the pain, though it was that, too. It was him trying to remember, to make sure that he'd never forget, no matter how many times the GFs took his memories. The scars would remain and that's the only thing that mattered. "Memories are... easily forgotten in my world. When I go back, if I go back... I need physical proof of promises I may forget. Promises of being stronger, of being able to protect those I cared about.

"Written word can be erased, destroyed, even changed and manipulated, but physical reminders never fade." He smiled slightly, wryly at Firion, "This is the path I've chosen, the path I've only knew for a long time.

"And I've... I've been alone for an even longer time. I only know how to take care of myself and protect others. I'm not... Not used to having others worried about me. Being there for me. At least until toward the end of the War. Then the Conflict happened."

Squall shrugged, "I'm fucked up. Right here." He tapped the side of his head, "That's the truth and what you think you know about me... Might not be really true. I don't even know who I am.

"I'm just the person people want me to be, expect me to be." His childhood perception of what Ellone wanted of him, what the Headmaster wanted to see from him, what Seifer expected from his rival, what his teachers assumed... Even what Rinoa wanted from him had shaped him and his personality over the years. It was just easier to do what others dictated.

He only had one desire, to be truthful. To become stronger. Everything else was negotiable.

"What I've been doing. What I've been trying to do... is trying to rebuild the Squall I was before all this shit happened." Because that Squall was safe and comfortable. He knew how to treat others if he was that Squall but having everyone, or at least those he fought with, talked to know his vulnerabilities, know his weaknesses, know that he's anything but the strong gunblade wielder they thought they knew in the conflict--

It was hard to piece back his old mask. It didn't help that the cracks were already forming long before the Conflict began, when Rinoa started to show him that there was more to life than SeeD, Duty and Missions despite the dire circumstances that surrounded them during the War.

Training like he had been ever since he disappeared was the first step to rebuilding his mask. Inflicting injuries to his arms was another step.

"Scars fade," Firion murmured. "Everything fades over time. Memories, pain, even wounds. Paper will yellow and crumble. But you don't fade."

He smiled softly. "May I take a guess at who you are then? You are Squall Leonhart. A teenager like myself, a child in many's eyes, but a warrior nonetheless. You've gone through enough pain that you only know how to take care of yourself, like you said, and thus you want to protect others as well from what you had to endure. But you don't want to show weakness. You remain stoic and emotionless as best as possible, to hide those weaknesses you believe you have. But you still care. At least, that is what Zidane and Bartz have said. And I can see it. You would not be down here beating yourself up because you hurt someone you did not care for.

"You say you are the person everyone wants you to be but you also want to rebuild your old self, but I believe you are on your way to becoming a little of both. Regaining what you lost is difficult, but it is not impossible."

Firion grunted and crawled over to the wall, to lean against it next to Squall. He grimaced lightly when doing so and lifted his pant leg, his flashlight revealing skinned knees. "I just cannot seem to get away from being injured," He laughed ruefully, they were not bleeding too bad so he lowered the pant leg and looked back to Squall. "I suppose that will be my own physical reminder about when I went to look for you and fell off a ledge instead."

He sighed softly and leaned his head back. "Squall, I believe we all have gone through pain in our lives. Light remembers nothing, your world makes you forget things, Cecil was split into three, and I am just a rebel who lost both sets of family to a tyrannical monster. All we can do now is move forward. We are in a new world with endless possibilities. Maybe a new dream can come forth for you, a dream you can strive for that isn't simply trying to bring back the old you but a new you, that is strong and anything else you want to be. Maybe you will return home tomorrow, but your experiences will still shape you, whether you remember them or not."

Another meaningful look. "You got it?"

"Scars don't fade if you know what you're doing." And repeat the action every once in a while but he wasn't going to tell Firion that. Rubbing one of the burn marks on his wrists with his fingers, he glanced over at Firion's scrapped leg before commenting, "It's easier to pretend you have no emotions. Easier for others to expect nothing emotionally from you but a job well done. For a while, that's all I thought I wanted but then..."

A faint smile touched his lips at the memory but Squall shook his head, waving the mental image away. It was a good thing she wasn't here to see him. No doubt she'd bash his head in, telling Squall everything that Firion had already done.

"It's not about dreams for me. Dreams were... are more of Seifer's thing. For me it was purpose and the mission. Promises worked too. I don't promise things easily, Firion but I always keep them. And there's a promise I still need to fulfill. One I'm not sure I'll be able too, now that I'm here."

The more time he spent in this world, the less likely he thought he'd be able to go back home--back home to Rinoa.

Firion chose not to comment on the first sentence. As long as he didn't see anymore wounds, fresh or otherwise, he would be fine. Firion sighed softly. "Pretending isn't the way to becoming the real you."

He smiled again, a little, "But maybe a dream could suffice for now. The dream that you fulfilled your promise. Believe in it and it will come true."

"It's all I knew for a long time." And eventually, all he knew was the mask. It was for the most part who he was or who he tried to be. It wasn't until Rinoa that he started to actively try and remember how it was to be affected by things, how he could let his emotions start to show without needing an outburst here and there.

"A shield between me and the world." The wall that separated him from feeling hurt by pretty much everything. It numbed him from the world and he preferred that numbness to emotional pain.

When the Conflict started, he fell back into his mask, unable to cope with the idea that he was taken from his world to fight in a Conflict that didn't concern him. At least until he knew that Ultimecia was on the other side of the Conflict, then it was all about eliminating her. The mask was all he needed to deal with the constant fighting and battles. When Bartz told him to give him back his feather, Squall wasn't sure what the wanderer wanted from him but--a promise was a promise and in time, he considered Bartz and Zidane a friend.

The rest of warriors were just allies for him to fight with. He never once thought they might have thought him as more than just another ally. That they considered him a friend.

"Dreams can be manipulated and used to control you." Didn't Ultimecia use Seifer's dream against him? "I rather keep to promises, thanks."

"So can promises," Firion said softly, looking at his knees with brows furrowed. "Promises were more of Leon's thing."

They were never sure what made Leon change sides, but he had always promised to protect Maria and Firion, because they were family. But then he wasn't there. He was fighting with the Emperor, trying to kill them.

"Leon, huh?" The irony didn't escape him. The idea that there was another person with a portion of his name who had the same belief about promises that he did was strange but not completely impossible. Didn't Aerith said that the he reminded her of the Leon from her world?

"Promises are oaths. Hard to break, hard to betray but there are sometimes... loopholes you can make use of if you need to bend the rules."

Squall shrugged, "To be honest, if Ultimecia was never part one of our enemies, I could have easily been yours. Back during the Conflict. If it meant I could go home as soon as possible."

Good and evil, they were only shaped by the perception of what a person thought. What could be deemed 'good' could be just the opposite for someone else. It was all relative to what someone thought. "I would have fought you all without hesitation--if Chaos told me that he would send me back to my world if I destroyed you all."

"He was like a brother to me, after my parents died and his parents to me in," Firion replied.

He listened to Squall tell him about what would have happened were he on Chaos's side and found himself resting his chin carefully on his knee. He wasn't going to argue with Squall the merit of a promise and a dream. "Mm, maybe," He murmured. "Except you would have found out much sooner than we had that the Conflict was nothing but a never ending cycle that Garland and the Emperor perpetuated over and over. Would you still have stayed on their side or would you have changed sides to try and get home faster?"

He shrugged, "If I knew what they were planning... I probably would have tried to take care of them myself, rather than ally myself with you and the others. But that's speculation, what happened, happened. Predestined? Who knows. As much as I hate to admit it... Time is sometimes linear in some cases."

In a weird way, his entire life was a huge time paradox due to Ultimecia's interference. If he didn't fight her, she would have won but because he did, he was sent back. Sent back to Edea's orphanage when he was still a child who lost his sister and inspired Edea to create SeeD, to know that it was that little kid who went looking for his Sis that saved the world.

"Everything is mere speculation at this point," Firion said. "All we can do now if move forward with what we have. We are all in yet a new world, rather than our own, and so far, you and I need to get home but are unable to do so just yet. In the mean time..."

He sighed. In the mean time, do what?

"Let us just focus on the here and now. We are in no way going to break our promises or forget our dreams, this will simply be another journey to fulfill them. Bruises, cuts, scrapes, and all," He turned to Squall and held out a pinky finger, smirking lightly. Maria used to make him do this all the time. "Promise?"

He stared blankly at Firion's hand and the extended finger. "A journey designed by some kid's imagination with creatures we have to tame. Right."

Squall rolled his eyes before sighing softly. "I am not doing a pinky swear with you."

That made him laugh and finally switched it to a normal offering of a handshake. "Then we will shake on it. A child's imagination or not, we are here for better or worse."

It was tentative but Squall did shake Firion's hand once with a nod before letting go. Leaning back against the wall, he watched his pokemon chase each other through the cave before asking "Why do you need to go back to your world?"

For Squall's case it was more to find out what part of his world still needed to be rebuilt, what he needed to do as a Commander of SeeD to help his world heal after everything Ultimecia had done. Assuming that even if he was brought back to that moment, to that island, that he could go back to his own time.

Cosmos only said the crystals were supposed to give them hope. They all assumed the crystals would take them home but what if that wasn't the case? He ended up here, didn't he? Squall groaned, bumping his head against the wall in frustration.

All this thinking was starting to give him a headache, another reason why he was constantly trying. It kept him from thinking too much.

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