Save You
Game: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairings: Seifer/Squall
Summary: Squall just wants to save him.
Warnings: Deathfic, language, drug use.
A/N: First time poster to this community, so I hope this little fic meets expectations. Uh, kinda depressing, just a warning. This is a semi-song fic, written to the song Smoke Baby by Hawksley Workman.
"Seifer come back in."
The blond doesn't move, doesn't respond at all and Squall comes up along side him. The cigarette held in the too thin hand has burned down to the filter and he knows that Seifer is gone again. Lost in his mind, in whatever fucked up place the sorceress sent him to. She's dead and she's still haunting him. It's been three months since the end of the war, three months since he'd killed her. He thought he'd saved Seifer when they freed him, thought that everything would go back to normal but instead, somehow he'd broken him. He wasn't the same man he once was. The egotistic bully had been replaced with something that was barley human. That ate only when the food was placed in front of him, who would lie in bed and stare at nothing until he was told otherwise, that disappeared in his on mind for hours at a time.
He'd been trying so hard to make him better, to fix him.
He tried goading him at first, tried to make him angry, make him react, their roles reversed. Instead he made the man cry and break a little more. Then he switched it around. He loved the man like he had always wanted too, back when he was sure he was hated and it seemed to work. Except the nightmares that kept him up, kept them both up. The ones that came during the day too, like waking dreams. Alcohol helped, helped them both deal with it and the drugs stopped the dreams. But it wouldn't work forever and the others where worried, suspected something. They wanted to send Seifer away to been taken care of 'properly', they wanted their Commander back. Sober.
Well fuck them.
But sometimes he thinks, knows he's never been quite this close to Hell before and it almost scares him.
Seifer's back now, and the blond sways in place from the alcohol and cocaine still evident on the coffee table, his face oddly flushed from the cyanide that Squall had slipped into the white powder, his eyes glazed over but knowing. Knowing something wasn't right but couldn't collect his thoughts long enough to work it out. Taking the man's hand, he leads him back to bed, lays him down and cradles him in his arms. Feels his breathing slow, feels him gasp and sputter for breath, feels as it finally stops.
And all he can think is that he'd finally saved him.
Reaching over to the side table, he grabs the small capsule and swallows it and he lays back down with the still blond in his arms, and lets it all take him away.