the escaped logician (cadence) wrote in ironman7, @ 2007-08-21 21:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | cadence, final fantasy viii, week 1: prompt 1 |
Final Fantasy VIII (Zell/Squall) [week 1 - prompt 1]
Title: Something Dear
Author: Cadence
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 400
Summary: Sometimes Zell worries that he won't remember this.
Zell wakes up bolt upright and panting. He knows he was dreaming, somehow, but he doesn’t remember any of it. It’s not the first time.
Squall grunts, the next bed over. “Y’alright?”
“Yeah,” he says, shakily, then breathes and tries again. “Yeah, great. Go back to sleep.”
Zell lies back down, but he’s far too wired to sleep now.
Suddenly it occurs to him that the GFs are like this, kinda. They destroy memories, dammit, and sometimes he wants to scream and ask why the things are still in all their heads, except that he knows the answer. They need them.
Just, sometimes, that doesn’t seem like enough. Sometimes he worries. He worries that he’ll wake up one day and not know why they’re trekking around the world. And worse than that – it’s ridiculous, that anything could be worse than that, because forgetting what they’re doing could mean the end of the world. But worse than that, in Zell’s mind, is the idea that in a few years he might not remember this. Not that they saved the world, even if they manage that, but this, just the feeling of banding together, of having a real mission, a focus, and a group of people who all understand that as well as you. He could forget about that, about them, even about Squall.
“Zell,” Squall says, muzzily but sternly, and Zell jumps. “Settle.”
He realizes he’s been turning back and forth repeatedly for a while. “Sorry, man.” He holds himself still with effort, hands clenched in the bedsheets.
Because the other thing is, worrying about all that seems stupid when they could die tomorrow. That prospect makes it seem like a pretty damn good idea to go over to Squall’s bed and press him into the mattress, to stifle any stupid protests with a kiss. He might not even get kicked out; Squall might even not protest. There’s been a certain raw look in his eyes for the past few days that says he might not. But there’s just no way that wouldn’t ruin them, their team, and he can’t risk that. He can’t. Not now.
He realizes his eyes are focused hard on the dark blob that he knows is Squall, and he forces his eyes shut.
Sometimes Zell worries that he’ll wake up and look at Squall and forget why he can’t do anything.
Sometimes Zell wishes he would.