Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Square does.

A/N: This switches a lot between different time periods, as a lot it is stuff Gippal is remembering. So if the time and place suddenly switches and you're like, "Gwaaa! WTF?!" that's why. I'll warn you ahead of time when it's going to do that in these A/Ns. I wrote this because I am shamelessly in love with the Gippalai pairing. I've been an occasional reviewer on this site as Zanieey, but this is my first fic posted on here (though not my first fic written).

Chapter One – Awakening

Gippal's chest hurt. It felt like someone was sitting on his ribs, he supposed, as he scratched his stomach idly and gazed at Baralai's restless form on the cot next to his.

Worry. Baralai. The two were intertwined more closely than Gippal usually let on.

Whenever they were separated, he became acquainted with a kind of pressing pain, a twinge. It always happened when he saw something he wished Baralai could see with him. He felt it the moment Baralai was shot and when he left "in search of the truth."

He felt it now.

"Ohhh…" Baralai moaned, his fingernails digging into the rough fabric he was lying on. Sweat glistened on his face, but he was shivering violently. Gippal watched his pretty mouth twist into a frown and thought of other times. How easy it had been, to just kiss that frown away…

They had to rest on cots in the engine room, for lack of anywhere else to go. Rikku was none too happy about having to drag these cots out, but they were necessary after Baralai fell unconscious and Gippal was "badly injured." (He had scoffed at this description of it. A little blood here and there never hurt anyone, he continued to insist.)

Gippal placed a cool hand on Baralai's feverish forehead, reassuring him quietly. "Shh… Ed'c ugyo… Ed'c ugyo… (It's okay… It's okay…)" He doubted Baralai could hear him, but there was a small chance he might. More than anything, he knew he was telling himself that things were going to be okay. The truth was that Gippal wasn't really sure. And it scared him.

A harshly drawn breath caused him to direct his gaze toward Baralai once again. He started and gripped Baralai's arm. Then his eyes opened, the first time Gippal had seen them awaken from sleep in so long… Two months. They had both been devoted to work, and then Baralai had been forced into the Farplane.

"Gippal?" Baralai's eyes, an indescribably warm brown, were weary. "It's so…cold."

He willed himself to smile. "What're you talking about? We're in the engine room. Hottest part of the ship."

The dark lashes fluttered, head shifted.

"Baralai? …Hey, you okay?"

"I think… What…happened?" he questioned unsteadily.

Gippal knew he was worried, most likely wondering about what he could have done while Shuyin possessed him.

"You passed out when the ship landed to pick us up. It was after we destroyed Vegnagun. I had to carry you, y'know." He grinned, brushing strands of white hair away from Baralai's eyes.

"That's not what I meant." Still serious. But then, "Wait, you carried me?!"

"Yeahhh, is that a big deal?" Gippal was really smirking now. "You embarrassed or something?"

Baralai appeared to be suspicious. "Did you volunteer?"

"Yeah."

"I knew it. You did it just so you could grope me." The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, and he looked up expectantly.

"Baralai! I did not!" Gippal exclaimed hotly. He attempted to glare…but failed and began to laugh.

Baralai did the same, leaning against him. It was like old times… The laughter was quick and easy, effortless. But it was cut short when Baralai's fingers drifted up against the bandages around Gippal's waist.

"Oh." A breath. "I did this."

"No." Gippal shook his head. "No, Vegnagun did."

"It was me playing the piano." His eyes avoided Gippal's, casting downward.

Gippal's fingertips found his chin and gently lifted it up. Baralai had to meet his gaze now.

"He controlled you." He slipped a hand under the arch of Baralai's back and tugged him toward his own body, seeking contact desperately missed. They were now close enough for Gippal to breathe in his ear, part of Baralai that Gippal considered to be perfect. Actually, in Gippal's opinion, there wasn't much at all about Baralai that wasn't perfect. The things some regarded as imperfections were just something more to comprehend, something more to find beauty in.

"I hate to hurt you," Baralai whispered. "Please understand that I would never –"

"I know."

It had been awhile since he could remember inhaling Baralai's scent like this, and the very thought brought other memories to mind. Baralai had once told him that his scent was that of the sand and the sea and also the air just before the sun set. He could recall telling him in response that Baralai's own smell was warmth, comfort, clean laundry (although they had been traveling in the desert for months), and something else, a sort of subtle spice underneath it all.

"I missed you," Baralai murmured, turning his face so that it lightly rested on Gippal's.

"I did, too." His words skittered across Baralai's ear, melting into the skin with the softest glance of lips…

Baralai shivered.

"Mmm… You cold?" Gippal held him tighter and let a tiny smirk press into Baralai's neck. He knew Baralai wasn't feeling so cold anymore. In fact, he was well aware of the real reason for that shiver.

"No, I'm not as cold anymore." There was a moment of silence before he uttered the exact same thing Gippal had been passing over in his mind. "It was a mistake to try and act like my past never happened. Paine tried the same thing, as did Nooj… I can't ignore who I am."

"I never could, either, even after I was so sure Nooj had stabbed us in the back like that. I used to be worried that if I ever met up with Paine or Nooj again, I wouldn't even know who they were anymore," Gippal confessed. "…And their eyes would pass over me like I was nothing."

"So was I. But now I see nothing's really changed at all…"

"I see the same thing you do, then." Gippal clapped a hand each on Baralai's forehead and the back of his neck, pulling his face forward so that their noses almost touched. "You're still feverish," he remarked, changing the subject, though not on purpose.

Baralai smiled. "Yes, Mama."

"That's Mama Gippal to you."

"Heh. I can see you in an apron."

Gippal couldn't resist. "You want to see me in an apron." He was just teasing him now like they always did.

Baralai laughed. "No. I don't. I really don't."

Laughing. It reminded Gippal of so many places and people. His hand grazed across a bullet hole in the back of Baralai's coat, and he was reminded of other times.

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A/N: Next chapter will be a desert-filled trip down memory lane, just because I love those days of the Crimson Squad. I'll try to make it longer, I swear. But actually…this chapter is kind of an intro to the rest of the story. Yep, that's my excuse for the shortness.