fic: Round The Garden Go
Jun. 18th, 2017 11:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Round The Garden Go
Series: FFVIII
Character/pairing: Squall/Rinoa
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3442
Author's Note: for Sarah. Happy Father's Day!
Squall opened up a card left on his pillow. It had a watercolor picture of a small child fishing with their father. Happy Father's day! He groggily brushed at his eyes. Another joke, or was she subtly pushing him to reconnect?
There wasn't really a card for you weren't in my life, I lost my memories, and I only reconnected with you via dreams. As Rinoa had said many times: Hallmark needed to step up their game.
"Ehe, your hair is always so cute when you wake up. You're the king of bedhead."
She leapt into bed with him. Squall had been pulled into impromptu pillow fights many times, simply because it was Rinoa's whim at the time. The sheets were a swirl of blue and white around her.
"Oh, you saw it. Good."
"Is this a reminder? I'll give him a call, I guess."
Ellone had pushed him to reunite with a stranger. Squall tried to put Laguna, the man he had only known through dreams, into the frame of 'father' but it never quite fit.
"You thought it was for him?" Rinoa smiled enigmatically.
"You think I should send Cid a card?"
"Open it up," Rinoa said.
Surprise, you're going to be a daddy. Happy future Father's Day.
The card fell to the bed. Squall could only stare blank at the inked words, and little smile left beside it.
If it was a girl, she might inherit the powers of a sorceress. Cities might come to take her, she would need a knight, and even then, she might fall to the magic that coursed through her veins.
What kind of father would he be? Rinoa had pulled him out from his isolation, but a child?
She traced her fingers across his jaw. "You always worry so much. Is this the part where you need to brood? Let me know if you need a hug; I'll be downstairs making cupcakes. By the way, you're going to have to deal with human interaction in a minute, so get your worrying over before the party starts."
"Already?" Squall said.
"I can't wait to tell them all," Rinoa said.
Squall laid back and stared up at the ceiling. A father. He was going to be a father. Everything felt unreal, like he was slipping into a dream world again. Except this time, he had a tether. He had her.
*
The apartment was too small to house everyone, so they ended up on the curb. He could only hear snippets of other people's conversations through the sound of passing cars. Heat made a mirage rise up past the grates.
Zell still had cupcake crumbs on the corner of his mouth, and down the front of his black pants.
"I'm going to be the Godfather, right?" Zell broke into a big grin. "I'll teach the kid how to be a champion hot dog contest winner, and I'll teach 'em the coolest moves. Like---" He did a backflip, and almost crashed right into a hot dog stand. A red cloth sign fluttered in the breeze. In black letters, it boasted 10% off.
"I'll take ten! Hey, Squall, you want one? Who am I kidding, you never want one. I'll just eat your share."
"Energetic as ever..." Squall muttered.
He could just imagine Zell chasing after a child. He could teach them back flips, and hold them tight without the faint discomfort. Zell would be open about his emotions and affections. But could Squall?
Just because he'd managed to open up to Rinoa--at least some of the time--didn't mean it would happen again. It could've been a fluke.
Squall heard a giggle, and looked up, broken away from his thoughts.
Selphie must've heard beforehand of what was to come, as she wore a yellow dress with cupcakes on it. She lifted up a perfectly iced cupcake, and smiled. "A baby and a wedding coming up? It's such a happy ending! I can't believe you're beating me to the altar. You are marrying her, right? If not, then I'll make Irvine provide the shotgun--right, Irvine?"
Irvine tipped his hat. "Always a pleasure."
"Maybe this time he'll actually manage to shoot," Squall said.
Selphie burst out laughing. "Talk about shots fired."
Irvine just pulled his hat down.
Selphie tugged on his coat. "Hey, you big lug. When are you going to catch up? They're beating us!"
He didn't hear Irvine's reply. Like drifting into another world, the thoughts took him. It was't an ending; it was a beginning. But Squall didn't say that. He just considered a cupcake. Each taste was sweet, with a faint hint of spice underneath. He'd kissed her and caught a hint of that same taste.
A memento from her mother. A favorite recipe saved away in a photo album. He closed his eyes. He could almost feel the memories seep through, like a waking dream.
*
"I told daddy, and he says you have twenty-four hours to produce a ring before he invades the country. He may not be a General anymore, but he has plenty of connections still," Rinoa said.
"You've reconciled with him? I thought you said you never wanted to speak to him again," Squall said.
"I don't want our little one to not have a grandpa. Already, the baby won't get a chance to meet her grandmother."
Rinoa looked down. She reminded him of the sadness he'd seen hidden away in portraits. "At least there's still mother's albums to show the baby."
"The stores would be closed at this hour. We'll go looking tomorrow," Squall said.
"You already gave me your necklace. That's enough."
Enough for the feel of sunshine in his life? Enough for the breadth of hope, of warmth and love filtering through?
"I want to see you smile."
She tapped his nose. "Silly. You make me smile all the time. It doesn't take sparkly things. But, I'm not going to fight you for the right to not have gifts." Rinoa rolled over, and kicked her heels off the side of the bed.
"I better go call dad. It'd be a pretty rude awakening to wake up with tanks beating down the door."
"I'll say," Squall said dryly.
She stole one last kiss, and jumped out of bed. Rinoa was like a sudden summer storm. He would barely get the warning of thunder before she came into his life, dousing away all his fears and insecurities with her laughter and whimsy.
Squall smiled, despite it all. Somehow, Rinoa always managed to make him smile.
*
"How about this: you, me and the stars," Rinoa said.
"A trip out?"
"A wedding," Rinoa said. She smiled, full of whimsy and joy. "Just imagine it. We could be married before tomorrow."
"You don't want something big?" Squall said.
Squall was the wallflower; she loved parties. Talking and laughing deep into the night.
"If we do it this way, we could have two weddings. Dad feels bad, and wants to pay." She twisted her dark hair between her fingers. "He was always like that. He couldn't be there for recitals, for my birthday, for so many things--so he'd buy my forgiveness. I guess old habits die hard."
Squall had no comfort to add. Her relationship with her father was strained in a way he couldn't mend. Empty words were useless. The best he could do was put his arms about her.
She smiled up at him. "I'm okay. You know, It'd be fun, though. The baby could visit for our second wedding. We'd get two honeymoons." Rinoa smiled mischievously.
It wasn't a long drive. White lights across his face, the faint blowing of flowers, old an old memory, or dream. He could never be sure. The auditorium looked like the place they'd first danced. The glass was spread out so the stars shone through. She wore a sundress covered in daisies.
Rinoa mischievously. "I'm good, but I'm not that good."
He took her hands, and swore forever. This time, out loud. He'd thought those words, known it deep in his heart long ago, when he'd taken the mantle of knight.
A shooting star soared above them.
"How lucky, just like then---Make a wish," Rinoa whispered.
As she leaned in , he mouthed the words you and forever.
She put a finger to his lips. "Don't tell the secret, or it'll never come true."
But it already had, he thought, as she took his head and led him back to a world where they were now husband and wife.
*
"Let's keep it a secret," Rinoa said.
"Our wedding?"
"The baby. Why worry and feel bad? We'll just paint the nursery yellow and love whatever we get."
And nothing summed up Rinoa more: smiling in the face of a possible apocalypse, in a sundress covered in daisies.
*
Months passed. Stacks and stacks of photographs filled the cabinets. He'd find them, left like dust on the counter. She wanted to capture each moment in time.
Their apartment was filled for baby showers and rehearsals for the second wedding, and sometimes, just because.
Rinoa painted a watermelons and smiley faces and goldfish bowls on her growing stomach, and took pictures. Every little moment was kept pristine, and put under glass. She stocked up on little onesies, and rattles with pastel animals over them. Catalogs filled with cribs were left beside the bed. There were so many choices, it became overwhelming.
"Do you see which one you like?"
Squall shook his head. He'd barely even had any input on the decorating of their house. Rinoa had found old things, and made them new. Wood shavings and the scent of fresh paint every night when he came home.
Even the couch they sat on, covered in a design of black and regality, was completely a different shade, but Rinoa was fond of remaking things. He was no exception.
"It's easy. You just close your eyes, and flip to a page. Then you take whatever you chose. See? Easy-peasy."
She could take impulsive leaps in life, while Squall stood at the edge and considered all the dangers.
"I wonder if the little one will look more like you, or me...Maybe it'll be a mix of both of us. Do you have any ideas for a name? I'm sure you'll want to name the baby something cliche like Hope or Dawn, right? Or maybe Summer." Rinoa smiled.
"...You pick the name."
"You don't even care about our child's name?" Her face turned into a deep frown. Squall wrapped his arms about her before she could storm off.
"You're doing most of the work. You should get to pick the name."
"You're doing a lot of work too. You're worrying for two. In fact, I think you're worrying for about ten people. I guess you can't help it. You're sooo good at worrying, after all. That and brooding. You deserve a gold star."
Rinoa pushed herself up off the bed, and pulled out something hidden away in the nightstand beside the bed. A little packet of gold stars. She peeled one off and stuck it right on his nose.
"A nice start, eh? I've got a whole thing..."
She got up, and pulled something from the back of the closet.
"I was setting up a chore board. Actually, it was going to be a surprise. Well, here it is. Surprise!"
Rinoa placed five stars under Squall, whose tasks were listed as "brooding" and "worrying."
"It's a bit early for that."
"It's never too early. We could get a height chart, too," Rinoa said dreamily. "Then mark it with stars for every inch the baby grows."
Squall was still overwhelmed. There was so much to being a father. He had just barely managed to learn how to be happy. How could he be a good father when he had only years of loneliness and pushing people away to offer?
Rinoa rested in the crook of his arm. He'd try for her.
"I was thinking...maybe I'd name the baby after my mother."
"And if it's not a girl?" Squall said.
"Julian is a nice dignified name, too."
"Did you want to pick the middle name?"
Before he could respond, Angelo jumped up into bed, and nestled against her stomach. Rinoa laughed. "Silly Angelo! I think they'll be friends. See, Angelo already senses the baby. He's saying hi."
She scratched behind his ears. "Good boy, Angelo! Maybe we'll name the baby after you. What do you think about it, you big boy?"
Angelo let out a little yip.
"See? He likes the idea. Julia Angela, or Julian Angelo."
Rinoa let out a gasp.
Squall tensed, and instinctively reached to pull her closer, to protect her. "What? Is something wrong?"
"Feel it--quick--"
She pushed his hand to her stomach.
"See? The baby's kicking. Maybe Uncle Zell is teaching our little one bad habits," she said.
He rested his head against her stomach. His palm was splayed out, to feel each pulse of movement.
"I hope this little bugger is cute, because carrying them around is a little tyring. I can't even see my shoes anymore."
"It doesn't matter, you're not different," Squall said.
"While it's sweet of you, I know I'm different." She rested her hands on her stomach. "But change is a good thing."
Slowly, she began to sing the nostalgic words of a lullaby.
Look at the snow
round the garden go
we'll all be dancing
until our noses grow cold!
The kicking stilled. Had the baby really heard her sing, or was it a coincidence? Rinoa placed her hand over his.
"My mother used to sing this to me. It's one of the few memories I have of her. I watch tapes of her performances, but sometimes it doesn't feel real. Like it's someone else's life."
"Dad says I got her genes like that, but I don't know." Rinoa laughed to herself. "Nobody's lining up to hear me sing."
Squall had heard the story before, but he didn't stop her. "I'd buy a ticket."
"Of course you would. You're my fiance. You have to say that."
"I'd say that even if I'd we just met," Squall said.
Rinoa laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. If we just met, you'd go off to to a corner to be a wallflower. And I'd drag you out to the dance floor again."
What even would his life be without her? Squall didn't want to even think of it.
*
His arms were filled with bags. Plastic covered with platitudes. He sat them down in the kitchen, which seemed smaller than he remembered. A few cabinets, a tiny stainless steel sink, He put away foods he'd never considered, but what Rinoa suddenly craved. Avocados and celery, ice cream and salty chips, each in their own space.
Squall heard something in the living room, and rushed to investigate.
"You're home--ugh."
Rinoa moved the regal gold-hued chair to the left. She sat down, and wiped her forehead in exhaustion.
"What are you doing?" Squall said.
"It all was just wrong," Rinoa said.
"...And it's right if you move it a few inches to the right?" Squall said.
"I don't know. There's just this weird antsy feeling. Come, sit with me."
She nestled deep into his arms. She'd been more emotional in the past few months. The books said this was common, but Squall couldn't quench that one last anxiety.
Squall had read books to prepare him, but all he could see was the clouds. Everything that could go wrong, the statistics of loss.
"Is this because you want to move?" Squall said.
"Sometimes I think I want to live in a little cottage. Like a storybook, with white picket fence. Living the cliche. But sometimes, I think I want to stay here, in this little apartment. We had so many memories here. Or maybe I want to go where the baby will be closer to their grandfather. Even if he makes me mad a lot."
He stroked her hair in long, soft motions.
"I guess it doesn't really matter, as long as you're with me."
These were the exact words he'd meant to say. It doesn't matter where I am, as long as you're with me.
"We can worry about it tomorrow," Rinoa said. "There's always tomorrow."
After the war, they'd meant to travel, but ended up in an apartment near the old compounds. Plans to travel were put off, for there was always tomorrow. Until their life changed, and tomorrow changed.
*
In his dreams, Ellone looked down from a sea of flowers. Her hands were spread out, just beyond his touch.
"I can't wait to meet you again. I can't believe how much you've grown. And now, you've got a little one coming...how sweet."
Squall tried to reply, but only petals came out. Ellone looked back, with a smile. "Take care of her," she said, and disappeared into the blooms. No matter how long he looked, she never resurfaced.
*
He awoke to a cry like an alarm in the night.
It was a flurry, a rush, like the wars he'd been in. The lights on the way to the hospital, the sudden whiteness, her hand tight in his as he walked her in.
And now, with Rinoa in the hospital room, Squall felt like he was sleepwalking. He began to see parts of them, their little family of war. Irvine down the hall, with a jello cup, and Selphie at his elbow.
Squall put the coins in the vending machine. With a few bursts of noise, it rolled down. Squall sat down, only to find a companion in the brilliant whiteness, and sounds that shook his senses.
"Did she break your fingers?" Zell said. He had a line of mustard and ketchup over his mouth, like a mustache.
"I just needed a drink," Squall said. Hospitals were where life and death met. The white walls were like the reflection of a marble graveyard.
Squall closed his eyes, and tried to steady his breath. He had to be strong for her. Zell chattered away, but he didn't listen. He rose up, and left Zell by the vending machine, and walked back towards the hospital room.
"Geez, some things never change," Zell said.
*
"Are you okay?"
Squall tried to not let the cutting feeling that he'd put her in this situation overwhelm him.
Rinoa winked. "Science is magical. And the stars, they're so pretty..."
"She's having an interesting reaction to the epidural. The doctor thought it might be reacting to the magic in her body," Quistis said.
Squall looked alarmed.
"...She'll be fine. She's a strong woman." Quistis gave Squall one last glance, and nodded. "I'll let you be."
"...Sorry. I needed a drink."
"I missed you, knight of mine." Her eyes closed. He took her hand.
"I won't go again, I promise," Squall said.
Rinoa smiled. Soon there would be doctors, and a blur of motion that felt like falling into someone else, like the dreaming by day where he'd lost himself.
But for that moment, it was just them, hands clasped tight.
*
Tomorrow came with a cry, a proclaimed it's a girl, and the dizzying feeling of a child placed in his arms.
The doctors and nurses had left. And now, it was just his wife, and his daughter. Two beautiful words he was getting used to.
"Julia Angela Leonheart," Rinoa said. "I think that's got a lovely ring to it."
One day, it might be the name of the Sorceress that people cowered from. The best he could do was protect her as much as he could.
"Don't tell me you're worrying already," Rinoa said.
"I'm a dad now; worrying is my job," Squall said dryly.
Rinoa laughed. "Now that's just a whole other kind of dad joke. Ironic and dry all at once. See, I knew you were a genius."
"We made her together," Rinoa said.
It was three of them now. All Rinoa saw was a sunny future, but Squall saw the clouds. The troubles. As if by instinct, Rinoa reached out to touch his arm in comfort.
"You don't have to do this alone, you know? That's your problem. You always see all these problems which could happen, and forget that there's people to help out."
"...Good thing you're there to remind me," Squall said.
"You're right. I'll always be there to remind you," Rinoa said.
And he knew, as long as both of them lived, she would.
Series: FFVIII
Character/pairing: Squall/Rinoa
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3442
Author's Note: for Sarah. Happy Father's Day!
Squall opened up a card left on his pillow. It had a watercolor picture of a small child fishing with their father. Happy Father's day! He groggily brushed at his eyes. Another joke, or was she subtly pushing him to reconnect?
There wasn't really a card for you weren't in my life, I lost my memories, and I only reconnected with you via dreams. As Rinoa had said many times: Hallmark needed to step up their game.
"Ehe, your hair is always so cute when you wake up. You're the king of bedhead."
She leapt into bed with him. Squall had been pulled into impromptu pillow fights many times, simply because it was Rinoa's whim at the time. The sheets were a swirl of blue and white around her.
"Oh, you saw it. Good."
"Is this a reminder? I'll give him a call, I guess."
Ellone had pushed him to reunite with a stranger. Squall tried to put Laguna, the man he had only known through dreams, into the frame of 'father' but it never quite fit.
"You thought it was for him?" Rinoa smiled enigmatically.
"You think I should send Cid a card?"
"Open it up," Rinoa said.
Surprise, you're going to be a daddy. Happy future Father's Day.
The card fell to the bed. Squall could only stare blank at the inked words, and little smile left beside it.
If it was a girl, she might inherit the powers of a sorceress. Cities might come to take her, she would need a knight, and even then, she might fall to the magic that coursed through her veins.
What kind of father would he be? Rinoa had pulled him out from his isolation, but a child?
She traced her fingers across his jaw. "You always worry so much. Is this the part where you need to brood? Let me know if you need a hug; I'll be downstairs making cupcakes. By the way, you're going to have to deal with human interaction in a minute, so get your worrying over before the party starts."
"Already?" Squall said.
"I can't wait to tell them all," Rinoa said.
Squall laid back and stared up at the ceiling. A father. He was going to be a father. Everything felt unreal, like he was slipping into a dream world again. Except this time, he had a tether. He had her.
*
The apartment was too small to house everyone, so they ended up on the curb. He could only hear snippets of other people's conversations through the sound of passing cars. Heat made a mirage rise up past the grates.
Zell still had cupcake crumbs on the corner of his mouth, and down the front of his black pants.
"I'm going to be the Godfather, right?" Zell broke into a big grin. "I'll teach the kid how to be a champion hot dog contest winner, and I'll teach 'em the coolest moves. Like---" He did a backflip, and almost crashed right into a hot dog stand. A red cloth sign fluttered in the breeze. In black letters, it boasted 10% off.
"I'll take ten! Hey, Squall, you want one? Who am I kidding, you never want one. I'll just eat your share."
"Energetic as ever..." Squall muttered.
He could just imagine Zell chasing after a child. He could teach them back flips, and hold them tight without the faint discomfort. Zell would be open about his emotions and affections. But could Squall?
Just because he'd managed to open up to Rinoa--at least some of the time--didn't mean it would happen again. It could've been a fluke.
Squall heard a giggle, and looked up, broken away from his thoughts.
Selphie must've heard beforehand of what was to come, as she wore a yellow dress with cupcakes on it. She lifted up a perfectly iced cupcake, and smiled. "A baby and a wedding coming up? It's such a happy ending! I can't believe you're beating me to the altar. You are marrying her, right? If not, then I'll make Irvine provide the shotgun--right, Irvine?"
Irvine tipped his hat. "Always a pleasure."
"Maybe this time he'll actually manage to shoot," Squall said.
Selphie burst out laughing. "Talk about shots fired."
Irvine just pulled his hat down.
Selphie tugged on his coat. "Hey, you big lug. When are you going to catch up? They're beating us!"
He didn't hear Irvine's reply. Like drifting into another world, the thoughts took him. It was't an ending; it was a beginning. But Squall didn't say that. He just considered a cupcake. Each taste was sweet, with a faint hint of spice underneath. He'd kissed her and caught a hint of that same taste.
A memento from her mother. A favorite recipe saved away in a photo album. He closed his eyes. He could almost feel the memories seep through, like a waking dream.
*
"I told daddy, and he says you have twenty-four hours to produce a ring before he invades the country. He may not be a General anymore, but he has plenty of connections still," Rinoa said.
"You've reconciled with him? I thought you said you never wanted to speak to him again," Squall said.
"I don't want our little one to not have a grandpa. Already, the baby won't get a chance to meet her grandmother."
Rinoa looked down. She reminded him of the sadness he'd seen hidden away in portraits. "At least there's still mother's albums to show the baby."
"The stores would be closed at this hour. We'll go looking tomorrow," Squall said.
"You already gave me your necklace. That's enough."
Enough for the feel of sunshine in his life? Enough for the breadth of hope, of warmth and love filtering through?
"I want to see you smile."
She tapped his nose. "Silly. You make me smile all the time. It doesn't take sparkly things. But, I'm not going to fight you for the right to not have gifts." Rinoa rolled over, and kicked her heels off the side of the bed.
"I better go call dad. It'd be a pretty rude awakening to wake up with tanks beating down the door."
"I'll say," Squall said dryly.
She stole one last kiss, and jumped out of bed. Rinoa was like a sudden summer storm. He would barely get the warning of thunder before she came into his life, dousing away all his fears and insecurities with her laughter and whimsy.
Squall smiled, despite it all. Somehow, Rinoa always managed to make him smile.
*
"How about this: you, me and the stars," Rinoa said.
"A trip out?"
"A wedding," Rinoa said. She smiled, full of whimsy and joy. "Just imagine it. We could be married before tomorrow."
"You don't want something big?" Squall said.
Squall was the wallflower; she loved parties. Talking and laughing deep into the night.
"If we do it this way, we could have two weddings. Dad feels bad, and wants to pay." She twisted her dark hair between her fingers. "He was always like that. He couldn't be there for recitals, for my birthday, for so many things--so he'd buy my forgiveness. I guess old habits die hard."
Squall had no comfort to add. Her relationship with her father was strained in a way he couldn't mend. Empty words were useless. The best he could do was put his arms about her.
She smiled up at him. "I'm okay. You know, It'd be fun, though. The baby could visit for our second wedding. We'd get two honeymoons." Rinoa smiled mischievously.
It wasn't a long drive. White lights across his face, the faint blowing of flowers, old an old memory, or dream. He could never be sure. The auditorium looked like the place they'd first danced. The glass was spread out so the stars shone through. She wore a sundress covered in daisies.
Rinoa mischievously. "I'm good, but I'm not that good."
He took her hands, and swore forever. This time, out loud. He'd thought those words, known it deep in his heart long ago, when he'd taken the mantle of knight.
A shooting star soared above them.
"How lucky, just like then---Make a wish," Rinoa whispered.
As she leaned in , he mouthed the words you and forever.
She put a finger to his lips. "Don't tell the secret, or it'll never come true."
But it already had, he thought, as she took his head and led him back to a world where they were now husband and wife.
*
"Let's keep it a secret," Rinoa said.
"Our wedding?"
"The baby. Why worry and feel bad? We'll just paint the nursery yellow and love whatever we get."
And nothing summed up Rinoa more: smiling in the face of a possible apocalypse, in a sundress covered in daisies.
*
Months passed. Stacks and stacks of photographs filled the cabinets. He'd find them, left like dust on the counter. She wanted to capture each moment in time.
Their apartment was filled for baby showers and rehearsals for the second wedding, and sometimes, just because.
Rinoa painted a watermelons and smiley faces and goldfish bowls on her growing stomach, and took pictures. Every little moment was kept pristine, and put under glass. She stocked up on little onesies, and rattles with pastel animals over them. Catalogs filled with cribs were left beside the bed. There were so many choices, it became overwhelming.
"Do you see which one you like?"
Squall shook his head. He'd barely even had any input on the decorating of their house. Rinoa had found old things, and made them new. Wood shavings and the scent of fresh paint every night when he came home.
Even the couch they sat on, covered in a design of black and regality, was completely a different shade, but Rinoa was fond of remaking things. He was no exception.
"It's easy. You just close your eyes, and flip to a page. Then you take whatever you chose. See? Easy-peasy."
She could take impulsive leaps in life, while Squall stood at the edge and considered all the dangers.
"I wonder if the little one will look more like you, or me...Maybe it'll be a mix of both of us. Do you have any ideas for a name? I'm sure you'll want to name the baby something cliche like Hope or Dawn, right? Or maybe Summer." Rinoa smiled.
"...You pick the name."
"You don't even care about our child's name?" Her face turned into a deep frown. Squall wrapped his arms about her before she could storm off.
"You're doing most of the work. You should get to pick the name."
"You're doing a lot of work too. You're worrying for two. In fact, I think you're worrying for about ten people. I guess you can't help it. You're sooo good at worrying, after all. That and brooding. You deserve a gold star."
Rinoa pushed herself up off the bed, and pulled out something hidden away in the nightstand beside the bed. A little packet of gold stars. She peeled one off and stuck it right on his nose.
"A nice start, eh? I've got a whole thing..."
She got up, and pulled something from the back of the closet.
"I was setting up a chore board. Actually, it was going to be a surprise. Well, here it is. Surprise!"
Rinoa placed five stars under Squall, whose tasks were listed as "brooding" and "worrying."
"It's a bit early for that."
"It's never too early. We could get a height chart, too," Rinoa said dreamily. "Then mark it with stars for every inch the baby grows."
Squall was still overwhelmed. There was so much to being a father. He had just barely managed to learn how to be happy. How could he be a good father when he had only years of loneliness and pushing people away to offer?
Rinoa rested in the crook of his arm. He'd try for her.
"I was thinking...maybe I'd name the baby after my mother."
"And if it's not a girl?" Squall said.
"Julian is a nice dignified name, too."
"Did you want to pick the middle name?"
Before he could respond, Angelo jumped up into bed, and nestled against her stomach. Rinoa laughed. "Silly Angelo! I think they'll be friends. See, Angelo already senses the baby. He's saying hi."
She scratched behind his ears. "Good boy, Angelo! Maybe we'll name the baby after you. What do you think about it, you big boy?"
Angelo let out a little yip.
"See? He likes the idea. Julia Angela, or Julian Angelo."
Rinoa let out a gasp.
Squall tensed, and instinctively reached to pull her closer, to protect her. "What? Is something wrong?"
"Feel it--quick--"
She pushed his hand to her stomach.
"See? The baby's kicking. Maybe Uncle Zell is teaching our little one bad habits," she said.
He rested his head against her stomach. His palm was splayed out, to feel each pulse of movement.
"I hope this little bugger is cute, because carrying them around is a little tyring. I can't even see my shoes anymore."
"It doesn't matter, you're not different," Squall said.
"While it's sweet of you, I know I'm different." She rested her hands on her stomach. "But change is a good thing."
Slowly, she began to sing the nostalgic words of a lullaby.
Look at the snow
round the garden go
we'll all be dancing
until our noses grow cold!
The kicking stilled. Had the baby really heard her sing, or was it a coincidence? Rinoa placed her hand over his.
"My mother used to sing this to me. It's one of the few memories I have of her. I watch tapes of her performances, but sometimes it doesn't feel real. Like it's someone else's life."
"Dad says I got her genes like that, but I don't know." Rinoa laughed to herself. "Nobody's lining up to hear me sing."
Squall had heard the story before, but he didn't stop her. "I'd buy a ticket."
"Of course you would. You're my fiance. You have to say that."
"I'd say that even if I'd we just met," Squall said.
Rinoa laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. If we just met, you'd go off to to a corner to be a wallflower. And I'd drag you out to the dance floor again."
What even would his life be without her? Squall didn't want to even think of it.
*
His arms were filled with bags. Plastic covered with platitudes. He sat them down in the kitchen, which seemed smaller than he remembered. A few cabinets, a tiny stainless steel sink, He put away foods he'd never considered, but what Rinoa suddenly craved. Avocados and celery, ice cream and salty chips, each in their own space.
Squall heard something in the living room, and rushed to investigate.
"You're home--ugh."
Rinoa moved the regal gold-hued chair to the left. She sat down, and wiped her forehead in exhaustion.
"What are you doing?" Squall said.
"It all was just wrong," Rinoa said.
"...And it's right if you move it a few inches to the right?" Squall said.
"I don't know. There's just this weird antsy feeling. Come, sit with me."
She nestled deep into his arms. She'd been more emotional in the past few months. The books said this was common, but Squall couldn't quench that one last anxiety.
Squall had read books to prepare him, but all he could see was the clouds. Everything that could go wrong, the statistics of loss.
"Is this because you want to move?" Squall said.
"Sometimes I think I want to live in a little cottage. Like a storybook, with white picket fence. Living the cliche. But sometimes, I think I want to stay here, in this little apartment. We had so many memories here. Or maybe I want to go where the baby will be closer to their grandfather. Even if he makes me mad a lot."
He stroked her hair in long, soft motions.
"I guess it doesn't really matter, as long as you're with me."
These were the exact words he'd meant to say. It doesn't matter where I am, as long as you're with me.
"We can worry about it tomorrow," Rinoa said. "There's always tomorrow."
After the war, they'd meant to travel, but ended up in an apartment near the old compounds. Plans to travel were put off, for there was always tomorrow. Until their life changed, and tomorrow changed.
*
In his dreams, Ellone looked down from a sea of flowers. Her hands were spread out, just beyond his touch.
"I can't wait to meet you again. I can't believe how much you've grown. And now, you've got a little one coming...how sweet."
Squall tried to reply, but only petals came out. Ellone looked back, with a smile. "Take care of her," she said, and disappeared into the blooms. No matter how long he looked, she never resurfaced.
*
He awoke to a cry like an alarm in the night.
It was a flurry, a rush, like the wars he'd been in. The lights on the way to the hospital, the sudden whiteness, her hand tight in his as he walked her in.
And now, with Rinoa in the hospital room, Squall felt like he was sleepwalking. He began to see parts of them, their little family of war. Irvine down the hall, with a jello cup, and Selphie at his elbow.
Squall put the coins in the vending machine. With a few bursts of noise, it rolled down. Squall sat down, only to find a companion in the brilliant whiteness, and sounds that shook his senses.
"Did she break your fingers?" Zell said. He had a line of mustard and ketchup over his mouth, like a mustache.
"I just needed a drink," Squall said. Hospitals were where life and death met. The white walls were like the reflection of a marble graveyard.
Squall closed his eyes, and tried to steady his breath. He had to be strong for her. Zell chattered away, but he didn't listen. He rose up, and left Zell by the vending machine, and walked back towards the hospital room.
"Geez, some things never change," Zell said.
*
"Are you okay?"
Squall tried to not let the cutting feeling that he'd put her in this situation overwhelm him.
Rinoa winked. "Science is magical. And the stars, they're so pretty..."
"She's having an interesting reaction to the epidural. The doctor thought it might be reacting to the magic in her body," Quistis said.
Squall looked alarmed.
"...She'll be fine. She's a strong woman." Quistis gave Squall one last glance, and nodded. "I'll let you be."
"...Sorry. I needed a drink."
"I missed you, knight of mine." Her eyes closed. He took her hand.
"I won't go again, I promise," Squall said.
Rinoa smiled. Soon there would be doctors, and a blur of motion that felt like falling into someone else, like the dreaming by day where he'd lost himself.
But for that moment, it was just them, hands clasped tight.
*
Tomorrow came with a cry, a proclaimed it's a girl, and the dizzying feeling of a child placed in his arms.
The doctors and nurses had left. And now, it was just his wife, and his daughter. Two beautiful words he was getting used to.
"Julia Angela Leonheart," Rinoa said. "I think that's got a lovely ring to it."
One day, it might be the name of the Sorceress that people cowered from. The best he could do was protect her as much as he could.
"Don't tell me you're worrying already," Rinoa said.
"I'm a dad now; worrying is my job," Squall said dryly.
Rinoa laughed. "Now that's just a whole other kind of dad joke. Ironic and dry all at once. See, I knew you were a genius."
"We made her together," Rinoa said.
It was three of them now. All Rinoa saw was a sunny future, but Squall saw the clouds. The troubles. As if by instinct, Rinoa reached out to touch his arm in comfort.
"You don't have to do this alone, you know? That's your problem. You always see all these problems which could happen, and forget that there's people to help out."
"...Good thing you're there to remind me," Squall said.
"You're right. I'll always be there to remind you," Rinoa said.
And he knew, as long as both of them lived, she would.
