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Mooby Land, Saturday Afternoon

So. Squall's father had come for Parents' Weekend, again.

Squall still thought he was a moron, but he had gained some grudging respect for the man. Plus, he was trying to be nicer to people. So they were going out to lunch together, to talk. Somewhere not too formal -- it was just going to be a casual sort of thing.

Perhaps Mooby Land hadn't been the best of choices. Still, it was something, right?

"Are you enjoying your hamburger?" Squall asked.

(For the guest, but Mooby Land is open for all your dining needs.)

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Mooby Land. They were sitting at a plastic purple table, eating hamburgers wrapped in paper, and Squall was looking at him like he was trying to remember how to be nice to people.

So, naturally, Laguna was fighting to keep from laughing.

This was much better than last year. It was too easy to take it as a slap in the face and walk away discouraged. He had a son, and his son had met him for lunch, in the most ridiculous place imaginable. Laguna was tempted to buy them both hats with that insipid cow on them.

"It's great," he said, brightly. "Do you come to this restaurant often?"

Squall looked around. "...Not really," he admitted. "And I think this is the first time I've dined in instead of carrying out."

He tried to figure out what that look on Laguna's face meant, and examined the room again. He hadn't remembered the gold-and-purple decor being quite so garish. "We should have gone somewhere else, shouldn't we?"

Laguna couldn't resist, at that point. He threw his head back and laughed.

"It's lovely," he said. "I see how much you think of me, son. I had no idea I ranked highly enough for all this."

Squall didn't laugh, and just looked uncomfortable. This place fit what he actually thought of his father, but he was trying to be nicer to people!

"It's not a Presidential palace," he acknowledged. "But I don't like places that are too formal..."

"And you're not all that fond of me," Laguna filled in, trying to cover the stab that went with that. "I don't have the right to complain about that. But I'm not sure how to make that one right when you won't let me."

He hadn't known about his son for the first seventeen or eighteen years. He wasn't surprised that Squall wanted nothing to do with him now. But it would help if he gave him an idea of how to change that.

"...I don't know," Squall admitted. "I'm not sure what you want from me. It's hard to not resent you."

He shrugged. It was easier to take a bite of his hamburger and chew it than to try to add more to the conversation. He wasn't sure whether or not things were going well right now, and wasn't sure whether he wanted them to.

"I'm not sure what you want from me, either," Laguna said. "I'm sure you do resent me. If it weren't for all the mistakes I made, you could have had a different life. You should have grown up with me, in Esthar. Or in Winhill. Anywhere."

It was hard, talking about Winhill. Sitting somewhere ridiculous like this didn't help. Laguna sighed.

"I want to be part of your life."

"The orphanage wasn't a bad place to grow up." If Laguna was feeling guilty about that part of it, he shouldn't. "At least, not until Sis left." He shrugged. "And if I'd grown up somewhere else, I'd be a different person. I like being me."

As for Laguna... "You're going to be part of my life no matter what," he pointed out. "At least, as long as you're still president."

Laguna smacked his hand on the table. "It was no place for you," he insisted. "You're my son. You should have had a family. You're my family."

He exhaled, messily. "I don't want to be part of your political life. I want to be part of your life. Not just because you're my son, but because you're Raine's son, too."

And because the boy seemed sad, and broken, in ways that hurt Laguna's heart. This was all his fault.

"I was okay without a family," Squall insisted. He was, too. Perfectly fine without a family.

"...Tell me about her?"

Well, maybe not entirely fine.

Laguna settled back. It seemed wrong to talk about Raine in a place like this. He should insist on taking Squall for a walk somewhere, out where there were trees.

If he did, his son might bolt.

Better here than nowhere.

"She was too good for me," he said with a smile. "Everyone knew it. She lived in this little town. She ran a bar, and she lived by herself, even though everyone in her town thought she should settle down and marry some local shlub and pop out a few kids. She had this big heart. She liked to take in strays and broken things. Like Ellone. Like me."

Squall nodded. "And... she was worth staying in Winhill for?" he asked. "Even though your duties were elsewhere?"

Army deserters: not high on Squall's list of people, even though he sort of was one himself.

It had taken months for Laguna to recover his health, and the war had seemed very far away, while he was recuperating in Winhill. But that wasn't what Squall was asking.

"Yes," he said. "I had duties, and I had always wanted to travel and write, and there was an entire world outside of Winhill. But all of that faded away whenever I looked into her eyes. She was all that mattered."

Squall... completely understood. He nodded in agreement. That was exactly how he felt about Rinoa.

All the same...

"...but not enough to go back to her, once you'd rescued Ellone?" That was the part that hurt. Laguna had loved Ellone enough to risk his life rescuing her, but not enough to go home and raise her afterwards. And he hadn't known he had a son, but Squall felt that same abandonment of Sis applied to him, too.

Laguna couldn't talk about this here. Not losing her. He had tried, but the garish purple and gold decor was mocking him.

He stood up and took his tray over to the garbage cans, beckoning with his free hand.

"It's a beautiful day out," he said. "Let's go for a walk."

Squall nodded, and followed him out. The gold and purple was unsettling him, too. This had been a bad choice of restaurants, on his part. He'd remember that.

Outside, the air was crisp, and it gave him a chance to think before responding.

"You asked earlier about duties," Laguna said, slowly. "I fought Adel, not because I gave a damn about the war, but to get Ellone back. In doing so, I started a revolution. The people of Esthar saw me as a leader. They rallied behind me."

He started walking, not caring much which direction he was headed in. Towards the trees, away from the street.

"Ellone wanted to go home. Esthar needed me. No one else had the power to pull the groups together to work on unifying Esthar into a country again. So I made a decision. I bundled Ellone up and sent her back to Raine, with a note explaining that I would be home soon. I had been away ... months. I didn't know how many. It killed me to stay away longer, but Esthar might have collapsed without me. I thought it would only take a few weeks to get the group in some semblance of order. I could have a suitable replacement picked out by then, and Raine would know I was on my way."

"But you didn't go back," Squall grumbled. "You chose Esthar over Ellone and Raine."

(And me.)

Laguna closed his eyes.

"That isn't how it happened," he said. "I was making progress, in Esthar, and I waited to hear back from Raine. I decided I'd get her return letter, pack up, pick the most competent underling that very day, and turn the mess over to him. I would have fulfilled my duties, and I'd go spend the rest of my life with my wife in Winhill, and never worry about Sorceresses or soldiers or wars ever again."

He had actually packed in advance. He never allowed himself to settle into the office. Waiting for her to write back was arbitrary, but it gave him something to tie his end-date to. More importantly, he didn't want to leave before he had heard back. What if Winhill had been under siege, and Raine had taken refuge in Deling City? The worst thing would be for Ellone to be stranded in Winhill, making her way to the capital, a runner on its way to Esthar, while he departed on his own.

"The note that came ..."

He could have recited it, word for word. Even after all these years. But he doubted he'd be able to say any of it right now.

The worst part wasn't just that the whole thing sounded reasonable. The worst part was that it was probably just what Squall would have done.

"Whatever!" he grumbled. "Fine. So... what do you want, now?"

Laguna wasn't done. If Squall wanted to hear the ghosts of the past, so be it.

"I asked about Ellone. They said she was well cared for. I asked if she could come live with me, and they said no, she had a home. I should have pushed harder. I know that now. But I thought they meant that she had family. Raine wasn't blood. Maybe with the war settling down, an aunt or uncle had turned up to claim her. And ..."

He stared off into the trees. "Raine was gone," he said. "So I threw myself into my work. There was no point to going back to Winhill. Raine was gone. Ellone didn't need me. So I'd stay, and be President. I never went to her grave. Not until Ellone took me, last year."

Squall mulled this over. He'd heard all of it before, but... he hadn't really listened. "So, you're blaming the people of Winhill? It's their fault that you left us alone?"

"No," Laguna said, taking a seat on a conveniently-placed bench. "No. I blame myself. And you blame me, too, and I understand that."

Squall sat down next to him. "So... what do you want from me? I can't just pretend that everything's all better now that you're here."

"I know," Laguna said. "I'm not expecting you to call me Dad or ... anything like that."

He'd like it. But he knew it wasn't likely.

"Tell me where we can start."

Squall shrugged. He had no idea what to do from here. This was entirely strange for him. "...Maybe we already have."

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Mooby Land, Saturday Afternoon

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