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Entry tags:
FFVIII: Hold On To What You Have
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: None
Warnings: Angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Fathers and sons. Part of Scenes From A Warzone.
"So you're going off to fight," Laguna said. He looked older, somehow. Squall realised he could finally believe that this man was his father -- could shed the last vestiges of disbelief. "I didn't think it was going that badly."
Or maybe, Squall thought -- maybe it was that he realised, then, that in hard times, you hold on to what you've got. It was a lesson well-learned, he thought, though that didn't make it any easier to step forward and actually hug his father. "I'll be fine," he said, awkwardly. Reassurances. He'd never learnt to be good at those. "I can't sit behind a desk and watch. It's -- different, this time. It's like the sorceress already knows what we're going to throw at her."
For a moment, Laguna occupied himself with trying to crack Squall's ribs with the force of his hug. For once, Squall tolerated it, breathing shallowly and finding himself smiling at the absurdity of it -- him, with a father, being hugged so hard it hurt. The absurdity of how it made sense.
Laguna pulled back. "Maybe I should follow your example," he said, half wistful. "Go out with a bang. I'm sure I can still use a gun, and I think Kiros and Ward would welcome the action."
An ordinary son would have told him to stay back, out of the way. Squall half considered doing exactly that -- but fuck conventional parent-child roles. They'd never done it like that before, after all.
"Maybe you should prepare for the possibility," he said, quietly. "Before the battle comes to you."
Laguna said nothing, for a moment. There were suddenly depths in his eyes that few people ever expected. He reached up and put his hand on Squall's shoulder, squeezing tightly. "Do you think we're going to win?"
He was tired of lying. "I don't know."
There was a heavy silence. Laguna squeezed again, surprisingly serious. "I'll see if I can get my favourite gun modified to carry those new shells. In the meantime -- no heroics."
Squall smiled. It was an unfamiliar gesture as it was, and more so since the war had started. "I've never been as much of a hero as people think I am."
Pairing: None
Warnings: Angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Fathers and sons. Part of Scenes From A Warzone.
"So you're going off to fight," Laguna said. He looked older, somehow. Squall realised he could finally believe that this man was his father -- could shed the last vestiges of disbelief. "I didn't think it was going that badly."
Or maybe, Squall thought -- maybe it was that he realised, then, that in hard times, you hold on to what you've got. It was a lesson well-learned, he thought, though that didn't make it any easier to step forward and actually hug his father. "I'll be fine," he said, awkwardly. Reassurances. He'd never learnt to be good at those. "I can't sit behind a desk and watch. It's -- different, this time. It's like the sorceress already knows what we're going to throw at her."
For a moment, Laguna occupied himself with trying to crack Squall's ribs with the force of his hug. For once, Squall tolerated it, breathing shallowly and finding himself smiling at the absurdity of it -- him, with a father, being hugged so hard it hurt. The absurdity of how it made sense.
Laguna pulled back. "Maybe I should follow your example," he said, half wistful. "Go out with a bang. I'm sure I can still use a gun, and I think Kiros and Ward would welcome the action."
An ordinary son would have told him to stay back, out of the way. Squall half considered doing exactly that -- but fuck conventional parent-child roles. They'd never done it like that before, after all.
"Maybe you should prepare for the possibility," he said, quietly. "Before the battle comes to you."
Laguna said nothing, for a moment. There were suddenly depths in his eyes that few people ever expected. He reached up and put his hand on Squall's shoulder, squeezing tightly. "Do you think we're going to win?"
He was tired of lying. "I don't know."
There was a heavy silence. Laguna squeezed again, surprisingly serious. "I'll see if I can get my favourite gun modified to carry those new shells. In the meantime -- no heroics."
Squall smiled. It was an unfamiliar gesture as it was, and more so since the war had started. "I've never been as much of a hero as people think I am."