Author's Note: Just wanna thank Seshat for loving this fic and beta’ing for me and Koorime for reading it and pointing out I needed to fix the Emancipated and Emaciated parts..*hugs to ya both*

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any of the characters, just the idea of what will happen…well actually they boys own that, they tell me about it. So square if your listening…the idea…you can’t have…it’s mine…possession is nine tenths of the law. Or so I heard *Grin* Oh and the song is Queensryche’s Silent Lucidity. Awesome song and the inspiration for the fic.

The Dreamers

Chapter 1

By LaughingWolfGirl

Hush now, don't you cry
Wipe away the teardrop from your eye
You're lying safe in bed
It was all a bad dream
Spinning in your head
Your mind tricked you to feel the pain
Of someone close to you leaving the game of life
So here it is, another chance
Wide awake you face the day
Your dream is over... or has it just begun?

I- will be watching over you
I- am gonna help to see it through
I- will protect you in the night
I- am smiling next to you...

- "Silent Lucidity" - Queensryche

He stood on the edge of the wall, looking out at the people hustling and bustling to and fro, like rats scouring for food. He watched from tired cynical haunted eyes, hidden as he was in the shadows of the alleyway. His tattered and torn jacket, stained and worn hung limply from thin shoulders. His jaws clamped shut tight, keeping his silent screams to himself. He was a pitiful ragged looking man; his cheekbones hollowed out along with his emaciated body, showing the lack of meals that had fallen to him.

He continued to watch, a snarl appearing upon what was once generously full lips. His hatred of all those well-fed, well-nourished people was all the nourishment he needed at the moment. Hunger was a long time friend of his and he had passed the stage of needing to heed any rumbles in his concave stomach. He turned his face away from the people and leaned with his back against the wall, smelling the vile smells of stale urine where someone or several some ones had used this wall as their private bathroom. Such smells were beyond him now; they were so common place that he didn’t even register them anymore.

He sighed and turned to his right, walking further into the shadows to the farthest reaches of the alley. Seeing a huge tattered brown cardboard box, home sweet home, he had fashioned it in such a way as to give him a form of shelter to sleep in at night. Well most of him anyways, his knees, calves, ankles, and feet stuck out. But while he lay in there he could pretend he was somewhere safe, somewhere warm, somewhere wanted.

He slowly took his filthy torn trench coat off, almost reverently, and folded it, bending down to put it in the box. The entrance to the box was on its side so he could crawl in. He crawled on his knees and looked to his makeshift home. He had found some rusted nails and put pictures from magazines people had thrown away, up as portraits of a forgotten life upon his walls. It gave his box a sense of home, at least if you didn’t’ look to close, seeing the tears or wrinkles across the pictures. He curled up in a fetal position, his cheek upon his arm, the other hand stretched out towards one particular picture.

He sighed while touching the face of the man there, the pads of his fingers lightly caressing the cheek, following down to the lips, and he remembered what it had been like to actually touch another person, in fact this very same person from the picture. And once that thought process kicked in there was something akin to a jolt going through his body, as if startled, eyes seeing through his own, looked upon their own face.

“I’m dreaming again aren’t I?”

right.”“Of course, I was never really real, I never walked the corridors of Garden, never tormented anyone. Squall; shut down, it’s my turn!”

He closed his eyes, those beautiful hauntingly green eyes and smiled. It was Seifer’s turn.

Gunmetal grey eyes snapped open, a smirk gracing an unfamiliar face. He sat up, tossing the hair out of his eyes carelessly. As he stood, he stretched his arms above his head, feeling the slow burn of muscles that he wasn’t used to. He looked down at the body that was his and yet wasn’t. He smiled. Today was going to be a good day.

He walked over to the lavatory and looked at himself in the small mirror above the equally small sink. He sneered and thought to himself…

“You would think, as Commander that they would give us a bigger place, better accommodations than them giving us the same as everyone else.”

“So very true, tedious, but true. So…I think I will go stuff my face with food, be off Squall, it’s my time now.”

He turned around facing the shower and turned the diamond-like plastic faucets, turning up the hot water completely. He scratched at his chest thoughtlessly, running his hands over the smoothness; he caught himself touching the nipple with his pinky, causing it to harden slightly. He smiled derisively at his actions. Even now he was trying to get his hands on Squall’s body.

He put all thoughts from his mind, determined to enjoy the shower, vicariously as it was. Got in and felt the heat pouring down on him in torrents. He lifted his face and put his arms on each side of the shower head, the spray from the water hitting him in the face while the rest of the water hit him upon the chest. He closed his eyes, this is what his body missed, the touch of water upon his body, the cleanliness of feeling sins washing away.

He began to fall asleep, could feel the heat lulling him to sleep, to close his eyes and dream. But the rumbles of his stomach pulled him back just as Squall was going to step in.

“ah ah ah, Squally-boy…not nice, we agreed it was my turn to live the good life.”

“Hey I’m not stopping you. Go do as you like.” Squall replied coldly.

Seifer finished washing, in a hurry now to satisfy his hunger. He got out and took the fluffy black cotton towel, slowing his movements, feeling the softness against his skin; breathing deeply while he ran the towel over himself several times, even after he was completely dry; just feeling a hedonistic rush. He threw the towel on the floor, knowing it would piss Squall off when he took over once more. Squall was such a neat freak and when Seifer had control he always made sure to leave things looking like a small tornado had hit.

Seifer walked into the bedroom and went through the bureau drawers pulling out a white t-shirt and the black pants that Squall favored…he grimaced at Squall’s fashion sense; he was going to have to go shopping and get stuff that he liked. Let the others wonder what the hell was going on with Squall’s fashion sense. The idea appealed to him greatly. He dressed quickly, leaving off the wealth of Squall’s belts, smirking at the “harrumph” he heard in the back of his mind.

“Aww what’s the matter Squall, don’t like that I refuse to wear all your

bondage?”“Whatever.” Was the only response, leaving Seifer chuckling at the predictability that was Squall.

“Well I’m off to the cafeteria...anything special I should know?”

“Meetings with Cid and the faculty later at ten, after that look in the appointment book on my desk.”

“Shit…meetings huh, wow, this sure is the good life ain’t it.” Was the mocking

reply.“Rather be in the box?”

“Fuck you!” Seifer growled in anger at Squall.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” Squall replied softly.

“Yeah well make sure it don’t happen again!” the quick retort was full of anger but also hurt.

Squall simply dropped it and said nothing more. It was easier that way.

Seifer put the finishing touches on his wardrobe and walked to the door, taking one last look in a mirror to make sure he didn’t look to unusual, well more so. The lack of belts would be telling, but no one would dare say anything about it.

He stalked down the corridors, walking like he always walked, eating up the ground with every passing step, not even realizing that Squall never walked like this, Squall’s walk was more deliberate, less like stalking. He received a few funny looks but other than that nothing else.

He walked into the cafeteria, surveying everything and everyone with a bit of a smirk and sneer all rolled into one, till he came upon a blonde crest of hair; his favorite victim. He was always able to get a rise out of the chicken. His grin was feral and he went to grab a tray, haphazardly putting the food carelessly upon his tray, taking nearly one of everything.

He walked over to Zell’s table and sat down, watching the boy eat his prized hot dogs. And he couldn’t resist…”Hello Chicken-wuss” he said laughing a bit when Zell nearly choked upon his hot dog.

“What did you call me?” Zell said with a growl, but then confusion ran across his face…he expected to see Seifer and saw Squall sitting there in front of him. It threw him for a loop; Squall was wearing a smirk, something that just didn’t seem right on his face.

“Squall did you call me that?” he asked tentatively so not wanting to believe it.

“……Did I?” Seifer replied, though he made sure his face and tone of voice were void of emotion.

Zell dropped it, didn’t want to even think of it. He must have been having flash backs of Seifer for some strange reason. The funny thing was everyone knew Seifer was dead. Well it was a given, he had never been seen after the time compression, oh there had been random sightings but they were never true; just gossip, pure conjecture.

He shook his head as if to clear it. He must have been imagining things.

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