capeandcowllogs | my life is one big identity crisis

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my life is one big identity crisis

WHO: Squall and Soldier Blue
WHERE: Some City school lot
WHEN: 8/8, just before the sun sets
WARNINGS: These men are just too pretty someone is going to scowl or dazzle your face off somehow
SUMMARY: Blue quit looking like people other people know you obviously can't deal with it
FORMAT: NO

Flying helped.

In the world he had been pulled from, flying was the byproduct of danger and necessity, never indulged outside of obligation and the role he was set in as Soldier. There was no celebration of power outside of the Shangri-La, and even that was subdued and hushed under the shadow of a government that would eradicate them on-sight.

In the City, the push and pull between native humans and those torn from their own worlds hardly dented the celebration of power and diversity. In ways, the conflict inspired greater pride. Others flew in plain sight regularly, much to Blue's amazement, and slowly learning to embrace the chance - to fly, not flee - had given rise to one of his favorite pastimes. Alone or with the company of Yusuke's grand bird Puu, rising above the swell of voices and feelings like a second thermal gave him a temporary-but-accepted feeling of peace and relief. When the contradictions and conflicts of City life threatened to suffocate, he flew, leaving his tangled thoughts weighted down on the ground.

But gravity was always waiting, and the escape was only temporary. He knew, and shame always came to greet him as his feet returned to the ground. It was the same then, descending as a slow, pale glimmer onto the vacant lot, chain-fenced and darkened. Summer left those places quiet more often than not, and it was well past closing time for the businesses nearby. There were fewer eyes to see, and even in a City full of capes and creatures, some humans still hadn't broken the habit of ignoring the sky as they went about their day.

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Squall just couldn't seem to fill the time. Having a job helped, and his unexpected promotion to head of security meant that it was actual work and not just hours of tedious guard duty, but even with that, there just wasn't enough to keep his mind occupied against the inevitable downward spirals.

When he wasn't working or sleeping, he walked the City. There was no real purpose to it, but it was better than sitting alone in his apartment with nothing to do but think.

It was purely by chance that he was cutting across the vacant lot in time to see Blue descend from the air, and the sight was enough to stop him short, distracting him from the endless circles of his own thoughts.

...Huh.

He had only begun to settle into those troubles anew when the sensation of being noticed tugged at him and drew him outward. His head lifted, and his eyes went to searching in the dimming light, seeing the color of thought and feeling much brighter than the source itself.

But that one was a stranger. Blue's mouth thinned into a faint frown, feeling a twinge of apprehension. Old habits die hard, they say; and even the overabundance of acceptance could shake him of that feeling of exposure and scrutiny, especially when it was very one-on-one. Unexpectedly one-on-one, at that.

He should have been more observant, more careful. He did not know what kind of reaction to expect, what course of action was best. He could only react after the act, if any. He could hope for safer outcomes, though.

The immediate outcome was a long, silent interval of staring at one another. Squall said nothing, watching Blue steadily with a guarded expression. Behind those eyes, though, his mind was active, thoughts revolving busily along: that he'd just seen Blue fly was only moderately interesting (wings might have held his attention longer), but there was something nagging just at the edges of his memory that didn't quite seem to want to come loose.

"...hey," he said, after an extended silence. Not much of a greeting, but at least there was no threat to it, just a certain low-level wariness that came from regarding everything unfamiliar as a potential danger, until proved otherwise.

Blue began to turn toward him at the sound, lifting his head higher as a sign of regard. The unspoken ebb and flow of thought, fast and slow with the effort it took to dig out forgotten things was not unnoticed, but held his interest more than anything else. There was no familiarity in it, however, and now Blue's searching was in the physical realm - his face and voice, posture even. His brow furrowed faintly with the effort, second-guessing, and yet...nothing came to mind. It must have been a mistake.

The silence after that single sound had stretched well enough; Blue swallowed, shoulders dropping slightly.

"I didn't intend to intrude," he said. "If I did, I apologize. I will leave."

"You didn't. It's fine." It wasn't his empty lot; why should he care if anyone used it as a landing pad? Still, he watched Blue closely, eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what it was about the man that tugged at his motheaten memory.

(A flicker surfaced, of facing down sword and shield, and the flare of the cape: "Are you ready to know true strength?")

Squall frowned and shook his head, the short twitch of movement of a man trying to shake away a mosquito that's whining at his ear.

The glimmer of insight caused Blue to stiffen, frowning deeper and watching the boy shake it away.

"Whose voice-?" Blue caught himself asking aloud, unchecked. He halted, his head starting to drop, looking up through his bangs. He knew better than to eavesdrop, yet all the same...it was so natural, so impossible to avoid when it was right there. And--

Some excuses weren't good enough for such delicate things. He knew that, too, and expected the worst.

Squall's thoughts jerked to an abrupt halt at the question, and then raced on again along much more focused lines. 'Whose voice?' Did he mean the memory - and if he did, how could he know? - or was there something else at work here that Squall had no way to understand?

He gave Blue a long, hard, wary look, but something in him remained reluctant to label the man as an enemy.

"...who are you?"

He lifted his head and met the stare with something softer, eyebrows starting to bend with the hint of apology. Anything more, he thought, and he would seem a haphazard danger. Or simply weak. There was plenty of reason to assume so regardless, but...Blue wanted no more enemies or suspicion.

"Blue," he replied, no hesitation. Do you know me, too? almost escapes him, but his mouth purses shut. He couldn't see familiarity twisting in the air, not brightly or at all.

Blue. The name didn't resonate at all in Squall's memory. There was no weight of significance to it that he could tell. It had to be a coincidence, he decided eventually, though it didn't really do anything to settle the feeling of being off-balance.

...he'd never known the Warrior's name to begin with; the man himself didn't even remember it any more...

"Sorry," he said gruffly. "I think you just - remind me of somebody."

Stupid messed-up memory.

It was different than the others who recalled him - the other him. The him he might or might not become, depending on who was asked for insight. Blue was never wholly certain of the truth of that...but it mattered not at the moment. The conflict was in the man, not directed outward.

He could relate.

Blue took a single step forward, one hand lifting and settling carefully against his chest. "I'm not offended," he said. "But...who? That somebody. Do you recall?"

Squall's frown deepened with the effort of putting his jumbled memories into some kind of order.

("Can you carve out your path without the help of others?")

"Not very much," he admitted, eventually, tersely. "Somebody I fought alongside. The Warrior of Light." Not an actual name, but more than a title - at least, more than just a figurative title. Being on the wrong end of the flood of light that poured off that shield was one of the clearer memories, and how it hit like a freaking truck. But there was no resentment to go with the memory, just a certain faint, grudging respect.

The echo of words...were not like any Blue himself would have said. He knew that much. Soldier he may be, will be, might have been, but he was never called warrior. He was a little relieved of it, to be mistaken instead of recalled where he never knew (yet), as seemed to be his lot more often than not. Yet for this man's sake, he was not wholly satisfied. He understood the discontent that came from hazy memories far too well.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, bowing his head. "We've never met before. Not that either of us can tell. And I don't know of anyone with that name."

To that, Squall shook his head. ""I didn't figure. It's fine." It wasn't fine, but there was nothing either of them could do about the fact, and no reason to expect this man to know anything about someone a world away who he vaguely resembled.

("Do not forget - none of us are alone.")

Shut up, Squall told the voice in his memory, frustration spiking sharply enough that Griever stirred with a quiet rumble in the back of his mind.

Blue's head lifted quickly at the sharp command - not directed at him, of course, but it was hard not to have heard it. The agitation that emanated from him was impossible to overlook; Blue pitied him, and understood.

Yet, as a stranger, it was not his place to interfere at will. He knew that. If there was a way to help, though, he wanted that. For this person. It was what pushed him to speak up again, words chosen with care and spoken gently.

"I could hear it," he said. "That person's voice. The one you recalled. I heard it when you did."

As before, Squall's thoughts yanked sharply to a halt, and all of his attention focused hard and unwavering on Blue. "You - could hear my memory?" Confusion, and the first breath of alarm, shivered underneath the words like a wave just on the verge of breaking.

Blue had to tread carefully. He nodded in silence, lifting a hand to point at his temple. "It is in my power to hear. You thought it loud enough to be heard." His pause was not enough to allow reply, quick to try and subdue mounting alarm. "Deeper thoughts, things that you protect...I do not hear those. I will not pry. I do not even know your own name."

The reassurance was enough to keep that breath of alarm from building into the full blare of fight-or-flight, but it did nothing to prevent Squall's mind from rushing along, seizing at details of what Blue said and worrying at them.

How am I supposed to not 'think loudly'? 'Things that I protect'... as if I can do that. It left him feeling horribly self-conscious, vulnerable, too aware of the weaknesses of his own heart, imagining his defenses as not much more than a cracked and brittle shell.

He gritted his teeth against the feeling of insecurity, face settling into a wary mask. "...Squall."

"Squall."

It fit too well, from where Blue stood. His mouth tugged faintly at the display that surfaced when he had explained. No. He'd make things worse, wouldn't he? It was much closer to the reaction he always expected.

He took a step away, head bowed.

"I understand." He did - to a degree. As much as a Mu could. But being naturally inclined to share emotions would always shade his perceptions of those who did not. His reassurances wouldn't fix everything; that kind of power alienated as much as it knit together.

"I don't see much than I'm offered," he explained, raising his gaze. "Because you sought to link me to that person. It's the same as if you had spoken it aloud, to me. And all the things you link to me, I hear and see. The rest...I don't seek out. I won't."

He wanted to knead all of the uneasy feelings in front of him by hand, but he could not. He let his shoulders sag a little with his breath before lifting his head. The hand that had pointed came to rest on his chest.

"But I feel the unease, too. And I understand. I hope you can believe me when I tell you I have no wish to harm you, or take anything from you. It's just my nature to see and feel things like this."

That's not what I'm worried about. The thought took shape before Squall could stop it. More and more, it wasn't fear of Blue tying his stomach into cold little knots - just the old familiar fear of being judged and found wanting.

He looked away at some point on the ground off the side, no longer able to meet Blue's eyes. "If it's just how you are," he said, voice a little above a mumble, "it's not something you can help, right?"

And that thought gave Blue a curious expression, though he spoke nothing of it. His mouth pressed into a thin line in the short silence that followed, finding no simple way of quelling that mounting unease. But then, this wasn't someone like Yusuke he was dealing with; why should it be simple?

"That's right," he confirmed. "Though I am aware of how it can make others feel. I am the one who approached, and I can leave you be without question." The corner of his mouth turned the starts of a wan smile. "But I will take the voice with me. If I ever hear it aloud..."

Squall bit down hard on the rush of almost wistful emotion that welled up in answer to that half-finished sentence. "Don't worry about it," he said. They'd agreed to go their separate ways in pursuit of their mutual goal; it wasn't as though it would be any different here, so what was the point of even thinking about the possibility of him showing up in this world?

...even if it'd be nice to think someone out there had my back...

Shut up, Squall told himself firmly.

Familiarity, that's what. Blue's brow furrowed faintly as the color of mood changed again. That, too, familiar in its own ways.

"Are you...alone here?" he asked. "In this world."

Alone. Squall let out a long, slow breath.

"...pretty much," he answered after a long silence. There was Terra, but... that was a complicated situation, and not helped by the state that his memory was in. Nobody really familiar. A few people he wouldn't mind fighting alongside, but nobody he could claim to be supporting him from a distance. Even his immediate employer had vanished, leaving him promoted but essentially on his own again. "I'm used to it."

Blue's brow wrinkled with sympathy. Being alone was a tragic and frightening thing to a Mu; he had met others who claimed to relish solitude, and in aspects that was true, but...human nature was very keen on connections. Not as deep as the links he could make, but even so. The need to be known, or simply heard was strong.

"You shouldn't have to be," he murmured, eyes downcast. But only for a moment, before flickering back up, speaking up, as well. "Though...it's better that way, sometimes. For a little while, I think. But even so. There should...be someone there to listen to you when you need it."

"Call on us any time. We'll be waiting."

Rinoa's voice in his memory this time, and with it a stab of loneliness that slid in under Squall's breastbone like a sharp, cold blade. He'd given up on insisting on being alone, but reaching out, making that kind of connection with people... it wasn't something he knew how to do any more.

"It'd be nice," he said quietly. "But it can't be helped."

"It can," Blue assured, a weak, almost apologetic smile on his face. He had imposed a great deal already, yet he felt moved to offer more. Out of sympathy? Perhaps. Or simply the understanding that came with feeling alone.

"I know your name, and you know mine. We're both strangers to this world, but we've been given means to communicate throughout. All you would need to do is call."

The offer frankly baffled Squall, and confusion creased his scarred brow. To just reach out like that - he couldn't seem to do it himself, and though he knew that other people could, he still didn't understand how.

"Why?" he asked, some of that helpless confusion creeping into his voice. Not why should I, but why would you?

The smile continued to play on his lips, finding a new light. "Why not?" he prompted in return. "You deserve to be heard and understood as much as anyone does."

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my life is one big identity crisis

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