(no subject)

[balthier-strahl.livejournal.com]

Who: Squall, Balthier and Fran
What: Squall gets hurt
Where: Centra Ruins
When: Daytime
Rating: R


Squall ran on ahead of the three Keyblade Masters, running up the flights of stairs, slaying whatever Heartless crossed his path, and the occassional Tonberry. It wasn't long before he found himself on the top platform. Within minutes he found himself swarmed with Heartless. A pool of black and yellow around him. He hacked and slashed his way through the crowd of Heartless, unable to see the floor beneath him, unable to see the fast approaching ledge. He jumped back from a swiping cclaw, only to be met with thin air. He didn't remember much after that, the falling was a blur, the soaring pain of a jagged, rusted, metal bar plunging through his body barely registered. He wasn't sure how long he had been there. His body was fast going into shock, bleed pouring from the wound. He panted hard, one hand curling around that metal bar to try and ease the bleeding, the other fumbling for his cell phone, only to drop it from his hand. He gritted his teeth, using what energy he had left to shout for the three boys.

The Strahl had been flying smoothly through the air but when Balthier spotted the Ragnarok, a smile came to his face, though a moment later, he noticed the swarming blackness that was seething all over the ruins. Mayhap they needed a hand? Anchoring the Strahl to the ground, he slipped his gun onto his back and strapped his finest sword around his waist. Without a word to Fran, he slid down the chain of the airship and made his way around the building. Though he was stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide at the sight of a long, bloodied pole with Squall impaled at the bottom of it. Running over and skidding to his knees, his hands shook as he checked for a pulse. "Squall!!"

Squall's breathing was slow and laboured, every breath painful. His hands clung to the wound and to that pole. He looked deathly pale. He was struggling to stay conscious. He could no longer feel his legs, and the parts of his body that he could feel felt so cold. At the sound of Balthier's voice, he blinked his eyes open, blurred and unfocused. "Seems my angel has come to show me the way, hm?" He spoke, coughing up blood.

"Shut up! Don't say that!!" He growled. Trying to keep a cool mind, Balthier stood and drew his sword. Taking a deep breath and pressing the edge of the blade to the bar, he closed his eyes and focused all his strength as he brought the blade back and slashed clean through the metal, sending the bar flying. Sheathing his sword and pulling off his shirt, he lay it on the ground before resting an arm each under Squall, above and below the impaling wound. "This will hurt..." he murmured, lifting Squall off quickly, almost retching at the sound of his flesh and guts as he removed him, laying him on the shirt and tying it tight around the wound.

Squall gritted his teeth as he prepared himself for the pain, but nothing could prepare him for the agony that hit him. He let out a scream of pure pain, his vision going white. He panted hard, coughing up more blood as his hands instantly returned to the gaping wound as Balthier tied his shirt around it.

His mind had gone blank and he was working on instinct as he pressed a hand to the wound, casting his strongest magicks over him as he sent a Curaga, Regen, Shell and Protect all Squall's way. "Nhh... shit..." he wasn't even sure what to do now and he scooped Squall up, holding him as straight as he could, trying not to put strain on that wound as he carried the teen towards the Ragnarok. There was no way he'd get up the anchor chain with Squall in this state.

Squall cried out in pain as those magicks washed over him, causing him to retch, curling up a little. Everything hurt so much. Another pained scream escaped him as he was lifted, bloodied hands clinging to Balthier.

Carrying Squall to his bed aboard the Ragnarok, he trembled as he ran to the cockpit and slammed his hand on the comm button that would call to the nearest airship. That, being the Strahl. "Fran!! Fran, get aboard the Ragnarok!! Squall's hurt, please, come quick!!" He all but shouted before running back to Squall and trying to think of his next move.

Squall panted hard, struggling to catch his breath as more blood trickled from his mouth. He was so cold and so pale, his hands shook as he held his stomach.

Fran all but thrust Krja into Rinoa's arms without a word, before sliding down the anchor chair, dropping the last few feet to the sand, before running aboard the Ragnarok. "Balthier?" She called as she borded, following the stench of blood to Squall. She swallowed hard at the sight. "What happened??"

Balthier, by then, had a cold, wet towel pressed to Squall's wound and was covered in the teen's blood. "H-he was impaled on a spike, I have no idea what to do!!" He growled, trembling as he held the towel with one hand, the other petting through Squall's hair. "C-come on, Squall... you'll be okay. I promise. I promise..." he whispered.

Squall, by this point, was drifting in and out of consciousness, his eyes not focused on anything, his hands falling limp against his sides.

"He bleeds. Inside." Fran murmured, pulling the towel away, retching at the stench of blood. "Bring me a bowl of water. and some kind of bind - string, cotton, whatever you can find. Even if you have to pull it from clothing."

Balthier shifted to stand and headed to the bathroom, getting a bowl of water and a reel of thread, bringing them to Fran. "Is there anything else you need?" His voice shook as much as his hands and his eyes were filled with tears.

Squall slipped into unconsciousness once more, his breathing slowing, his pulse barely there.

"Comfort him. Talk to him." Fran said, slicing his wound open further with her claw. She dipped the towel into the bowl of water, wiping away as much blood as she could, trying to find the source of the flow. She slipped her hand inside the wound, whispering a Curaga spell before taking the thread, pulling off a long length. She slipped a hairpin from her hair, tying the thread onto it as a makeshift needle as she began to stitch up the worst of the injuries.

Balthier settled beside Squall and pressed a kiss to his forehead, petting his hair. "It's alright, angel. We'll help you..." He pressed tender kisses over Squall's cheek and lips, trembling the entire time. "I've got you, Squall. You are safe now. Please... do not die, I couldn't stand it, Squall... don't die... please..." he whispered, only loud enough for the young teen to catch every word in his ear.

Squall panted hard, clinging to Balthier's hand.

"We must get him back to Balamb. He needs proper medical attention. My stitches will only hold temporarily." Fran murmured as she fixed the boy up as best she could in the current circumstances, pressing another Curaga to his wound.

Balthier gave a single nod. "You take the Strahl and fly her there. I will check the Ruins for the Keybladers and bring this airship home." He shifted away from Squall, kissing him lightly. "Stay strong, my angel." He whispered.

Fran shifted to stand, leaning in to steal a firm kiss from Balthier, cupping his cheek tenderly. "May the wind carry you home quickly." She whispered, before turning to leave, making her way back to the Strahl.