I, uh... Wow. This is a weird feeling. I don't think I've ever actually finished a multichaptered fic before, unless you count those things I wrote in like sixth grade. Back then, though, I could barely grasp the significance of finishing something that I had put my heart and soul and blood and sweat and tears into, let alone something that had taken almost three years of my heart and soul and blood and sweat and tears.

But here it is. The very last chapter. I'd like to think I wrapped everything up, but I literally wrote about ninety percent of it in one sitting so I'm not really sure. OH WELL. The editing will come later. All that matters is that it's finally done.

It's been a rough ride, very bumpy and filled with hiatuses and long breaks and writer's block galore - oh, dear GOD, the writer's block that plagued me in some parts of this fic - but it's finally over.

Disclaimer- I don't own Pokemon.

Uh-oh.

That was the only thought pervading Latios' mind as he stood there, hand melded to Giratina's armored cheek, taking in the shock and – what was that, fear on her face? In the past, such a sight would have elicited a smile and a teasing remark from him; but in this context – his having just returned, after ten days that she had likely spent moving on without him – he found only uncertainty plaguing him.

Tentatively, he lowered his hand. He'd thought that coming here first was the best course of action – didn't want to confuse his sister too much, because as far as he knew she still thought he resided in Turnback Cave now – but now he wasn't so sure. From the look on Giratina's countenance, she had probably just adjusted to not having him around as a translucent, azure-furred shadow. Not so translucent anymore, though, he thought with a barely-restrained smile.

He hesitated, then raised his head and looked her right in the eye. "Hi," was all he managed, pathetically. Maybe he had started this whole thing all wrong; after all, a barbed jibe, however teasing, was more than likely the last thing she wanted from him after –

But then the face he had come to adore so much was contorting into a furious expression, one that not even living with her or witnessing her at meetings had prepared him for, and he found himself yelping as she drew her entire bulky body up into an imposing stance.

"Where the hell have you been?" she demanded.

Latios recoiled in midair at the raw anger blazing in her eyes and on her face, visible even with the mask there. "Uh…" he began, not knowing how to explain it. Darkness had overtaken him back in Turnback Cave, when the pain had become too much for him to handle and even his stubborn desire to remain in this world yielded to the promise of release from that anguish. The next thing he knew, he had awoken just outside the cavern, to the feeling of something tickling at his nose. He'd raised his head, wrinkling his nose up against the blade of grass that had poked him, and, upon looking around, realized just where he was.

And, he recalled with a sigh, what exactly I had to do first. Let Giratina know I'm okay.

And that he was alive. Though with the disbelief that he saw mingling with the obvious ire on her face – almost as though she wanted so badly to believe he was there, warm and alive and real, in front of her – he saw that she probably knew about his new state already.

Alive. The word had never tasted so sweet, swirling around in the back of his throat as it was. It made the former phantom of his heart increase its activity and beat even faster with happiness – that, and just being with the creature standing in front of him.

However, even that bliss was dulled by the slight fear that teased his senses at just how pissed off she looked. Understandable; he had only just figured out exactly how long it had been since that strange darkness had oozed, sleep-like but for the agony it heralded, over his vision. But fast on the heels of that knowledge came guilt, at how he had made her wait like this.

Because, he couldn't help but think, she does care about me. However grudgingly.

He found himself clinging to that fact, the fact that even though she probably didn't return the feelings he had for her – the last thought before he had passed out, and the first thought after he had awoken – she did still feel the warmth of friendship regarding him. At least that was a start.

Although that's probably over because of this…

"Come on," Giratina spat, thrusting her face into his. "Tell me why you just now decided to come back. After I spent a week and a half feeling grief I should be immune to at this point, after –"

Latios frowned. "It wasn't something I could help!" he interrupted.

Giratina plowed on, oblivious to his interjection. "After making me believe the cycle of life and death isn't permanent after all, you have to tell me why the hell you're here, after a week and a half of this… this…" She groped for words, panting audibly in a way that filled the gap-like silence, anger making her briefly incoherent. "This complete and utter crap that you put me through!" she finally gasped. Seemingly drained by her outburst, she stared down at the ground, her forehead practically brushing his as she angled her head down.

The eon dragon's heartbeat ramped up considerably at the almost-contact – now that it had its full range of motion back it was spiking all the time, though that might just be because of who exactly he had gone to see first – but he forced himself to calm down and answer her question as best he could.

"I…" He stopped, opened his mouth, closed it again with a muted groan. As much as he hated admitting it, he had no idea why fate had chosen now, of all times, to drop him back into the world of the living. However, he knew he had an obligation to at least give Giratina the reply she deserved, uncertain though it would be.

"I don't know," he confessed honestly. She raised her head and gave him an openly hostile look, but he quickly pushed one claw over her mouth before any annoyed quips could issue from her. Surprisingly, his impulsive attempt to silence her worked; her eyes got wide, then narrowed again in a silent request for him to give her a good reason not to push him away.

Last chance, those eyes said, and Latios had to take a deep breath before continuing. Calm down, think it through, don't let her know how much you love her.

"I really don't know what happened," he repeated. "All I know is that one moment, I was sitting in Turnback Cave; the next… it felt like something was tearing me apart. Literally." He could still remember the imaginary talons ripping and clawing at him, threatening to rend his very being in two; just the memory made him wince. "The pain was so bad that it knocked me unconscious… I guess. If you could call it that."

He tacked on the last part mostly for Giratina's benefit, because a multitude of emotions were beginning to cross the basilisk's face. Hostility lingered first, then was replaced by contemplation, which was quickly eclipsed by shock and then – what was that, guilt? – when he mentioned the near-crippling pain. He thought about asking her about that last emotion, but the expectation that pulled the guilt aside told him to keep going.

His semblance of a confident tone faltered considerably as he heeded that silent command. "The next thing I knew, I was waking up here, just outside Turnback Cave. And…"

And then he had to stop, give his head a little shake, huff in a Giratina-ish manner with the force of his annoyance toward his sudden hesitation. Because why should he hesitate at telling her this, just telling her that he had felt he owed it to her to see her first after he had ripped down her walls and disturbed her solitary life and turned the fire in her heart into nothing more than a simmering spark?

Because it's a step away from the big, fat, glow-in-the-dark line between explanation and love confession, that's why.

"I just thought I should talk to you first," he finished lamely, dropping his hand back down to his side. "Uh. Yeah. That's all, really."

Arceus, when had he become a schoolgirl in love? The thought was so thoroughly reminiscent of Giratina that he nearly chuckled. Just as some of his mannerisms had transferred to her, so her little cynicisms had passed onto him.

Giratina appraised him for a moment, and he found himself searching her face desperately for… something. What that was, he didn't know; certainty, maybe, or understanding, or perhaps even a glimmer of bliss that he had come back to her.

What he did not expect was for her to lift her gaze to his and utter two choice words he had never imagined she would speak.

"I'm sorry."

Latios narrowed one eye. "Okay?" he said, embedding a chuckle in his voice so as not to sound spiteful, even though now he was confused as all hell. No pun intended. "What for?"

Giratina shrugged, closing her eyes and looking down at the swaying grass beneath them again. "I broke the Soul Dew," she muttered.

That got Latios' attention. Praying he had heard her wrong, he peered closer, trying to beat back the part of him that was currently roiling in dread. This explained the guilt, at least; though he didn't want to think that negatively. "Pardon?" he croaked out.

Giratina's head swung up, and she opened her eyes to fix an acrimonious glare on him – a look that fit the early period of their relationship perfectly, but that seemed so unfitting for at least how Latios thought they were that he actually floated a ways back, trying to escape the anger in her eyes. "I said, I broke the Soul Dew!" she shouted. "I went to Arceus to ask for a way to bring you back, and he said breaking the Soul Dew would be the only way to put you back together and bring you back to life again. And I said yes, because I thought, hey, the freaking god of everything knows what to do, why should I not trust him? I was willing to do anything if it meant you were happy again. Even if… even if it meant you left me forever.

"So I go, and I do it, and now your sister hates me, which I can understand, but the worst part is that for a while there? I thought it didn't work. You up and vanished, and it hurt, Latios! It…" Here she gulped in air, and Latios felt a surprised sound tear itself free from him at the sight of something beginning to brim in her eyes. "It hurt much more than I thought it would. I thought I knew grief, but I didn't really know it until I actually lost something I cared about, and then it was like I didn't even care about anything anymore. All because of you.

"You know," she said, a self-deprecating chuckle marking the sudden lowering of her voice, "the funny part is that at the beginning of all this? I barely cared about you at all. Knew you lived in Alto Mare and were incredibly, stupidly overprotective of Latias, but that was all. And then you had to go and get yourself killed, or at least get your spirit thrown in Turnback Cave, and I had to deal with you. I thought I'd be all right, because even though your situation was so weird I'd never cared about other spirits before, so I shouldn't start now. But then you started pestering me and following me everywhere and I couldn't shake you at all, mentally or physically."

Latios blinked a couple of times, taking the time that she had eased up in her ranting to think. Something within him, something like hope, stirred inside him at her confession of his always plaguing her mind; that and embarrassment at recalling just how thoroughly he had shadowed her around the cavern that first day. But he pushed down both due to their pointlessness – she still probably didn't care enough to reciprocate his love, and the past was the past – and sighed. "I see."

"No," the basilisk growled, "you don't see. You don't see anything at all besides the fact that you got to come back and see me again. Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I'd finally started getting my life back to how it used to be, before you fell into it and twisted it all around? And maybe you coming back was the last thing I wanted, after I'd finally gotten over making the mistake of destroying the one thing that reminded anyone else of you?"

It was a lie. She was lying and they both knew it. And Latios felt that hope begin to twitch within him again, because a tiny chance still remained that his feelings weren't totally unfounded after all, as impossible as it seemed.

"Well, actually," she went on, her voice threatening to break with the force of her restrained tears, "not the only thing. That topaz crystal, the one that looks like your sister's eyes? It's still in the cave. I kept it safe for you, because I knew that if you came back you'd want to know it was safe."

"Are you serious?" Latios asked, surprised into replying immediately. "You think I came back here just for a stupid jewel?" Even though warmth suffused his body at knowing she had gone to that extent just to make sure of his happiness, the desire to prove her wrong in this regard – to let her know that he was here for her, not for some paltry reminder of the other Pokemon he so desperately wanted to see – overcame that warmth and pushed him on.

"Giratina," he said, laughing a little, "that's not why I'm here."

"Really?" she retorted instantly, almost petulantly, not even frowning a little at how he had pulled such a reflexive snarl out of her. "Then why?"

"You know why," he said, narrowing his eyes and floating closer again. His mind seemed to take a deep breath and set upon how best to phrase what he wanted to say, but his heart felt strangely bereft. Like the burden of assuming she would never love him back had just lifted, helped by the knowledge of the lengths she had gone to just to bring him back to this world, even if it meant letting him go for good.

Besides, he mused dryly, even if I'm wrong and she doesn't feel the same way, she already went to so much trouble to bring me back to live. So it's not like she'll kill me or anything.

An odd, strangled noise ripped free from Giratina's throat at his approach, and she drew back a ways in midair, her wings curling up in obvious discomfort. "No, I don't," she said, but the tremble in her voice belied her words.

Latios rolled his eyes. Leave it to Giratina to cloak herself in the safety of denial until he had to practically scream it in her ear. "For Arceus' sake, Giratina," he chuckled, both mildly annoyed and amused, "think for a second, would you? Why else would I go see you first? I felt like… like I owed you something. For coming and messing up your life the way I did." In spite of himself, a bit of bitterness crept into his voice on the last part; but he forced himself to eradicate the feeling and push onward. No turning back now.

"And…" He hesitated, raised his hand up to her face again, almost lowered it when she floated further back, still staring at him with horror and – yes, that was hope he could detect on the very fringes of her countenance, it had to be.

Forcing himself to keep going, he completed the journey that, in retrospect, had gone on since that very first time he had entered her dreams and begun to see her as more than just the foul-tempered, socially inept, insult-spewing, clever, strong façade she had thrown up for the sake of facing the world. Like that day in the cavern when he had returned from Alto Mare to find her grievously injured, Giratina froze as his claws tentatively brushed her cheek, only to find courage and settle completely there moments later. And just like before, she failed to pull back and admonish him with every bit of acid she was capable of, this time not out of blood loss-heralded exhaustion, but out of… something else, he hoped. At least, from the way she was almost unconsciously leaning into his touch.

Maybe her enjoying the contact finally cemented it: finally pushed the doubt out of his heart for good and made way only for boldness and the desire to get everything out in the open. Maybe her fixing a gaze of expectation, albeit mildly reluctantly, on him finally spurred him to fulfill that anticipation. Either way, his heart was screaming in his chest and he knew he had to do this now.

"I came back here because…" Arceus, Latios, you've gone through death and back again and you can't tell the one you love that you love her? He took a deep breath before just throwing all caution to the winds and saying it.

"I… cherish you a lot. As my friend. I mean, uh, wait!" he hastily added when Giratina huffed and her look of almost tender curiosity morphed into exasperation. "I meant, um… I wanted to let you know I cared by coming back here first. And…" Oh, Arceus. This wasn't going well at all.

"How about I go first?" Giratina asked dryly. Intensely grateful, Latios nodded, inwardly wondering why he had become so incoherent.

"Right." Looking mildly gratified, she took a deep breath, her eyes slipping shut for a moment before opening again. Although she kept the gaze that she leveled to meet his fairly neutral, Latios liked to think he knew her well enough to recognize the hint of nervousness in those wine-colored eyes.

She was nervous, and he found the breath catch in his throat at the very notion that he had done it. In the past he had accomplished that much – the day he had refused to let her human form out of his arms came to mind first – but never before had the sight of her uneasily twitching her wings and bringing one to wrap around herself in an insecure gesture had the same disquieting effect on him.

Before he could wonder whether or not to tease her or say something to break the tense silence, though, she beat him to the latter.

"At first I thought it was just because I'd never had a friend before and didn't know how to feel." Her words came so quietly that he had to strain to hear; once he picked them up, though, his eyes widened. She had begun fidgeting again, he noticed, and simply inclined his head in a request for her to continue.

"But… I don't know, something changed."

"Obviously," Latios couldn't help pointing out wryly.

Giratina glared at him. "Will you just let me finish?"

He raised his hands in a palliating gesture, allowing the smile twitching at the corners of his lips to complete its journey across his face. "Fine."

"Thank you." With a huff, she gave a shrug, her temporary aggravation fading and allowing that uncertainty to make its reappearance at returning to the crux of the discussion. "I… something changed. Because of you, and you being here. Like I said before, you following me around and talking to me all the time didn't really help much."

Latios took the brief lull in her monologue to sigh. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I must've really been a pain in your ass."

"But that's just it!" He nearly cringed at her sudden spike in volume, but thankfully managed to hold himself steady. "You should've been a pain in the ass to look after and talk to. I thought you would be. That you'd just be like another spirit in the cave and go around pissing and moaning about everything you'd lost. But," she chuckled a little bitterly, "I guess I forgot legendaries were different.

"And you were different. Not just because you made me feel things – things besides duty and obligation and detachment from everything around me. Not just because you made me feel happy for the first time in about a thousand years."

The feeling of hope and anticipation gave a mighty twitch in his heart at her open confession of at least this much.

"But because," Giratina went on, her voice becoming almost ragged again and if he didn't know any better he would say she was trying to hold back tears, "you weren't quite dead."

Latios nodded; he had heard this part when he had eavesdropped on her conversation with the Houndoom spirit, ten days and an eternity ago. "And that was when you went to ask Arceus how to bring me back, right?" he asked, secretly surprised at how calm he sounded when inside, his chest was constricting both with pain at seeing her so close to tears and with eagerness at what he thought was coming next.

He forced himself to push both feelings aside and listen. This was Giratina, after all; she might not love him at all.

She could only manage a nod, her eyes slipping closed again as she took a deep, tear-torn breath. The distressing sight became too much for him and his restraints broke.

"H-hey, what's wrong?" Latios asked, floating forward anxiously.

"You know what," was the half-muttered response.

He sat back on his haunches in midair, folding his arms and giving her a skeptical look. "No, I don't, otherwise I wouldn't have asked."

Her eyes opened, and she gazed at him with overly bright, shockingly calm eyes. He had to admit the lack of anger bemused him a bit; it seemed like her rant from earlier had drained her, rendering her unable to do much more than eye him with a flicker of a spark in her stare. "I shouldn't have done it at all," she whispered, voice trembling. "I shouldn't have even believed the cycle of life and death had a loophole in the first place. But you made me screw everything up. You made me believe that."

Latios inhaled, exhaled, repeated again, absorbing her words. "And why did you believe that?" he asked, voice dropping to a barely audible level.

Giratina chuckled, a pathetic sound that made him wince and reach out; but she shied away before his hand could make contact. "You're really gonna make me say it?"

His hand dropped back down to his side.

Yes, every muscle in his body screamed, you need to hear this, but he shoved the desire pulsing white-hot through him to an untouched corner of his mind and merely laughed. "They do not love that do not show their love," he quoted. Almost immediately, the Shakespeare recitation contest floated into his mind, and, recalling the stark difference between then and now – her words biting and annoyed, his trying to draw out the playful side he knew lay beneath that façade – he couldn't help but laugh again.

Because here it was – the proof that he wasn't entirely hopeless after all.

Giratina opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Even through the tears now coursing freely down her cheeks, she still managed a slightly contemplative expression, one that looked slightly comical in light of said tears.

Latios blinked. "You don't know where that's from?"

She just waved a wing at him in an imitation of a human raising their finger for silence. After a moment, she let out a growl of surrender. "I guess not."

The azure eon dragon couldn't help but smirk at the pout that had settled on her countenance. "Two Gentlemen in Verona, but that's not the point."

Her indignation deepened at the not-so-subtle reminder, but almost an instant later it was gone, replaced by hesitation. "Right," she murmured.

Latios' smirk widened at the uncharacteristic anxiety. "I'm waiting."

"Shut up," she barked at him, in a tone that was clearly supposed to wipe the grin off his face. Predictably, it did not work; in fact, it had the opposite effect: widened his smile and made the feeling of pure bliss in him amplify to an almost uncontainable level.

"I… I like you, okay?" she said.

"Just 'like'?" Latios tilted his head to the side.

With a huff, she moved forward. Latios had a split second to detect the dark shapes moving toward him before her wings had laid themselves rather tentatively against his shoulders. "Okay, fine. Since you won't leave me alone about it…"

"No, I won't," Latios interrupted seriously. "I need to hear this from you, Giratina. I came back to life so I could hear you say this."

Oh, man, that must've sounded bad, flashed across his mind when Giratina drew back a little ways, mild dread etched onto her face. "B-but I won't leave," he quickly amended. "I won't go back to that dark place I was in for the last ten days. This time, I'm back to stay."

And, precarious as the situation was, he fervently believed every single word. Even if that shadowy place beyond death called for him, he wouldn't yield to its demands.

"Good." Giratina gave a single, brisk nod. "Good," she repeated, though with a little more warmth in her voice this time.

She appraised him again, this time with the same nervousness that had marked her throughout almost this entire encounter. Latios felt the soft, ragged wings tighten almost imperceptibly on his shoulders, almost as if reassuring herself of his vow. Smiling a little, he reached up and crooked his wrist to place one hand against the wing on the same shoulder. Giratina inhaled just a bit sharply as his claws lightly stroked the surface.

Just like the day they had first realized he had a chance of coming back; that this situation had a chance of existing at all.

"Want me to go first?" he asked, echoing her prior words without a trace of mockery.

Giratina nodded, not looking intensely relieved like he must have when she had given that exact inquiry. "Yes," she breathed.

"Fair enough." Latios fixed his gaze on hers, allowing every bit of hesitation and anxiety and doubt to pass from him.

"I came here first to say I love you," he said. The words tasted bittersweet on his tongue, and he briefly wondered why, before remembering that he couldn't stay with her in Turnback Cave anymore. He would have to go back to Alto Mare to stay with his sister again, to protect Alto Mare even without a Soul Dew. The thought upset him far more than he would have anticipated, and he strengthened his grip on her wing. "I love you," he repeated, louder this time. Arceus, but this was going a lot less awkwardly than the slow build-up to this moment would have made him believe.

Giratina tensed, her entire body freezing at what she had expected to hear from him from practically the moment his hand had settled over her cheek and he had told her to calm down. So many emotions rushed through her – doubt terror hunger everything that came with those three words placed together – but at long last, her sputtering heart settled on one thing.

Happiness.

Something that had eluded her for millennia, until the protective, strong, overly teasing, erudite, patient dragon in front of her had woken up in Turnback Cave and changed everything.

It was cliché as hell, but her heart lifted at knowing he felt the same.

"Well," she said with a chuckle, "lucky you. It would seem I love you back."

"Oh, come on," Latios laughed, taking his hand off her wing and brushing it over her face, leaving pinpricks of fire in its wake. "That's not gonna cut it."

Giratina narrowed her eyes. "Well then, what will?"

"An honest-to-Arceus 'I love you, Latios.'" His smile seemed contagious, and she found herself repeating the expression, with the genuine pleasure that he had claimed to love so much that last night before his disappearance.

Only now that she knew her impulsive actions in Alto Mare had had pleasant consequences after all could she put what had happened that night into one innocuous word.

"Fine then," she said, hating how she was obliging him and giving in for only an instant before her heart crumpled her pride. Another anomaly for her that Latios had brought: her pride stepping down, however briefly.

She let one wing rise from his shoulder and touch his cheek. Not surprisingly, the same soft fur that covered the rest of his body – that much she recalled, although before he had carried the icy breath of the dead instead of the warm cadence of the living – greeted her touch, and she found herself leaning into it, knowing beyond this moment that he would have to leave soon and stay with Latias again. Tamping down the pain that filled her at the thought, Giratina sighed.

"I love you. Latios."

The words came a lot more easily than she had anticipated, considering all the weight and significance behind them. However, they seemed to suffice for Latios. He grinned and leaned forward, and for a moment, Giratina found herself holding her breath, frantically wondering how he thought he could kiss her with their size differences –

But then his head landed against the top plate of armor that stretched around behind her back, and his fingers settled against her chest just beneath it. "That's better," he whispered against her.

Giratina rolled her eyes. "Idiot," she mumbled, sweeping one wing around to hold him closer.

From the entrance to the cavern, a certain lupine spirit smirked as it looked on, before turning on its heel and bounding back inside.

"Latias!"

Latios didn't know why, but the strange urge to call out I'm home! crossed his mind, albeit briefly. However, he pushed down the powerful impulse and simply looked on, the same uncontrollable grin that had seized him in Giratina's presence quirking his lips upward again at her likely reaction to seeing him again. Knowing his little sister, she would be happy more than anything else to know death had had less of a hold over him than anyone had first assumed.

Not angry, like Giratina was at first. He recalled, with a surge of warmth, how they had spent the time talking and catching up with one another, without releasing the other from their hold. Maybe it was because his body heat now mingled with hers instead of creating the contrast of fire and ice, but he had found himself much more comfortable in her embrace than before.

That, or the fact that before, he hadn't known if she returned his feelings, and now that he did, he felt bereft. As though a weight had been released from his shoulders.

Hovering above the garden of Alto Mare, Latios allowed himself to descend in midair, still keeping himself somewhat hidden so as to properly surprise Latias when she came to see the source of the voice calling her. The incident from outside Turnback Cave – just the idea of hearing those three beautiful words coming from Giratina, directed toward him – still felt surreal, even hours after the fact.

I got lucky, though, Latios reflected with a sigh. She could have just as easily flung me away and denied me. Hell – we both got lucky that it was mutual. Because how often did it happen in the real world that two Pokemon – or humans, even – found it in themselves to not only reach out to and love each other, but to say at least that much?

Romantic comedies notwithstanding, of course. Even Latios knew how deeply those things tricked people.

He shook these thoughts free and refocused on searching the garden he knew so well. Arceus, but that urge from earlier had returned with a vengeance. Because he was home, back to the place he had matured in, at first with his father and his sister, then just Latias by his side. There was the crack on the stone path leading to the fountain, created when Latios himself was practicing his psychic powers and gone just a bit out of control; just beyond that lay the ferns where Latias loved to lay back and sunbathe; and there…

Even though Giratina had told him about it, Latios still felt his brows furrow in a confused frown when he saw the lack of dark blue Soul Dew resting in the fountain, before he remembered. Giratina broke it trying to get me back, he recalled. He moved closer to get a better look, feeling a sort of morbid curiosity. The spray of the fountain drenched him as he halted, but he welcomed the feeling – how long had it been, since something besides fog or Giratina's touch had caressed him? – and stared at the empty placeholder. He reached out, let his claws rove over the well-worn stone surface. It felt… odd. Like having just lost a tooth and poking around in the socket.

Even though he felt grateful for what Giratina had done, his frown deepened nonetheless. Couldn't she have found a… less reckless way to bring him back? After all, the last time the Soul Dew shattered, Alto Mare almost got flooded. Remembering the incident that had caused his death the first time, Latios shuddered and immediately decided to stop reminiscing in that vein.

"Latias!" he called again, worry beginning to seep into his heart for the first time. Mentally, he went over where she could possibly be. Giratina had told him there wasn't a meeting taking place today, so Latias could not be at the Hall of Legends; and lunch had passed a little while ago…

"What the hell?"

The breathless gasp from behind him made Latios turn, his eyes narrowing both in recognition and exasperation at the familiarity of the source. None other than the green worm Rayquaza hovered there, amber eyes huge and jaw practically hitting the concrete as he took in the azure eon dragon who he had believed dead until about ten seconds ago. The expression of pure shock was so incongruous with the normal expression on Rayquaza's countenance that Latios found himself smirking.

"What's wrong, Rayquaza?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Oh, wait."

"Why…?" Rayquaza began, only to stop. Swallowed, took a breath, tried again. "Is this what Giratina meant?"

"By what?" Latios blinked, genuinely curious.

Rayquaza just shook his head, staggering in midair and pressing his palm against his temple, as though just seeing Latios there stimulated a headache. "She said… destroying the Soul Dew was the only way to bring you back."

Confusion flared in Latios' mind at the odd look on Rayquaza's face, as though the emerald dragon wasn't quite revealing everything. Before he could ask about it, though, he heard the voice his entire body had cried out to hear again practically since the moment Giratina had first fixed him with a near-sadistic look and told him he was dead.

"Ray? Ray, where are you?"

Her voice grew louder as her red-and-white shape came into view, shadowed as it was by the multiple trees around the perimeter of the garden. Even though her neck was craned down slightly, preventing Latios from getting a good look at her face, he still strained forward to get even a tiny glimpse of her. Even from here, she seemed thinner than he remembered; was she feeding herself properly? At least her fur had the same luster about it as ever, so she was taking care of herself on that front. Her gaze was focused on the stone path beneath her as she kept speaking. "I found a great place for us to go get lunch," she was saying, "but we'll have to assume our human forms again so you can fit into the restaurant. You remember what happened last time?"

Last time? Latios thought, wistfully. What all have I missed?

Rayquaza sighed. "Yes, Latias, I remember what happened last time," he grumbled, not even correcting her on using the nickname. Before, the notion would have pissed Latios off beyond all rational thought; now, though, seeing how happy the green worm made his sister, Latios could only muster up a tiny, indulgent smile. "Latias," Rayquaza went on, his lips twisting up in an odd manner, "you may want to look over here."

"Look over…?"

She trailed off when she glanced up and caught sight of her brother.

Latios' grin widened at the way her almond-shaped eyes got huge and her arms fell limp at her sides. "Hi," he said.

For a moment, she could only stare at him, her jaw working silently. Both Rayquaza and Latios watched her, the former with a wry smirk and the latter with a growing sense of expectation. Because he knew his sister so well, he could read every single emotion that flashed across her eyes: shock, disbelief, hope, certainty, and finally…

Happiness.

"Latios!" she shrieked, propelling herself forward in a red-and-white blur. Latios had a split second to brace himself before she collided with him with full force and pushed the air out of him. "Oh, thank Arceus you're alive! Wait, you're alive, right?" She moved back, her pupils flitting down to look at the ground before landing back on his face again. "Oh, good, you have a shadow," she breathed, her almost silly grin filled with both bliss and intense relief.

"What does my having a shadow have anything to do with it?" Latios laughed, pressing his forehead against hers and wrapping his arms around her neck.

Latias pouted for a moment, then smiled again and tightened her grip on him. "Never mind that. Just…" She shook her head, clearly not knowing what to say that would convey just how relieved she felt.

Latios closed his eyes, letting the warmth of this reunion wash over him and buoy his heart, making a peaceful feeling flow through his veins. Now, he thought, everything would be all right again. Now that he had seen his sister and the one he loved again.

Suddenly reminded of something, he opened his eyes and drew back just a bit, though not moving away from Latias' hold. The crimson eon dragon eyed him with a bit of confusion marring her pleased expression. "Latios?"

"I owe you an explanation," he said.

Latias cocked her head to the side, clearly confused.

"Damn right you do," Rayquaza grunted from behind them, startling both eon dragons; in their moment, they had almost forgotten he was still watching them. At both pairs of respective crimson and gold eyes on him, he cleared his throat awkwardly and shifted in midair, making the patterns on his coils move. "Of all Pokemon, why send Giratina to bring you back?"

Rayquaza's abrasive demand made Latios have to remind himself this was a happy moment; he didn't want to ruin it by antagonizing the one she possibly loved. No matter how tempting it is, he thought, and briefly marveled at how he hadn't even balked at the possibility of his sister having terrible enough taste to love Rayquaza.

"First of all," the azure eon dragon said, unable to keep an edge out of his voice, "I did not 'send' her; she came on her own free will. Second of all, um…" He grinned as Latias swatted him playfully, giving him a not-so-subtle reminder to go easy on Rayquaza. "I kind of love her."

That surprised both of them. As he took in the way his words had clearly wiped the aggravation off Rayquaza's face and Latias' widened eyes, Latios reflected on the lack of difficulty he had had in repeating the confession from outside Turnback Cave. Then again, he had already told the one Pokemon that needed to know it most; even though he valued Latias' opinion, he could not care less what Rayquaza felt, so maybe that kind of balanced it out a bit.

Latias recovered first. The grin returned to her face, and she tackled her brother again, nearly knocking him to the ground; only a bit of hasty balancing kept him from doing so. "I knew it!" she squealed. "As soon as Giratina said she actually cared about bringing you back I knew that had to be what was going on – next time I see her I'll have to congratulate her!"

Latios had to smile at her naïveté, at her assuming that because he loved Giratina, she then had an obligation to love him back, like two magnets attracting. Life didn't work like that; too many times, love went unrequited. Ironic, then, considering she had cast the same spell on Rayquaza and didn't reciprocate.

With the thought of Rayquaza came a sense of reluctant duty to the emerald dragon, and, hesitantly, Latios peered around his sister to look at Rayquaza. He still looked ineffably stunned, but when he saw Latios watching him, he quickly composed himself and huffed. "Hey," Latios said, a little belligerently. Even though she couldn't see who her brother was addressing, Latias somehow seemed to know, for she shoved him again and drew back enough to give him a hard stare.

"Sorry," Latios muttered, significantly cowed, before returning his steady gaze to Rayquaza. "Thanks," he said, after a moment. "For looking after her."

"Whatever," Rayquaza grunted, turning away and folding his arms. "I only came here because Arceus asked me to."

Of course. But you only agreed to it because you wanted to. Latios left those thoughts unspoken, however, and instead chose to gently detach himself from his sister's embrace, not taking his eyes off Rayquaza. Feeling the azure eon dragon's eyes burning into his scales, Rayquaza glanced back, only to give a very visible start. Confused, Latios looked over at his sister, only to see she had adopted a rather hurt expression.

"Ray…" she choked out. "Don't… don't say that…"

Rayquaza sighed loudly, throwing up his hands in surrender. "Okay, fine, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"

Immediately, Latias' agonized mien faded, replaced by relief. "It's okay!" she chirped, wrapping both her arms around one of his and stretching up to nuzzle his face. Growling in half-hearted disgust, Rayquaza made only a single attempt to move away before accepting the contact. "Oh!" Latias said suddenly, angling her head back down again and meeting her brother's eyes. "Can Rayquaza come back here every once in a while?"

Even though she kept her voice neutral enough in the question's context, Latios caught the pleading look in her gaze and felt something inside him surrender. Because among that desire, that need for him to agree to her proposal, he caught a glimpse of tenderness spark in the golden sea of her eyes. She does love him, the azure dragon realized, and felt only an instant of anger and protectiveness before that faded. He had put her through so much already; the least he could do was let her live her own life, the life she had already begun in his absence.

She could survive without him, and while it had undoubtedly begun rather unsteadily, having him back didn't change it.

So Latios found himself going against every single value he had and acquiescing. "All right," he said. "Sounds good."

As Latias promptly leapt up high in the air, squealing with unbound happiness, Latios and Rayquaza met each other's gazes. They watched each other for a moment; then Rayquaza gave a single, brusque nod, as if acknowledging that if he ever broke Latias' heart, Latios would have to pay him a little visit up in the Sky Pillar.

The two of them would never see eye to eye, true. But their love for Latias gave them at least one similarity, and Latios would honor it.

It was funny, he reflected, even as he smiled at his sister's enthusiasm. The part of his mind that spurred him to let Latias do what she liked sounded a lot like Giratina.

It was almost like everything had come full circle, Palkia reflected as he waited at the top of the Spear Pillar, shuffling a little uneasily and gazing up at the star-ridden sky. Not too long ago, he had sat at the edge of this very peak, waiting for Dialga to arrive; this time, though, the roles had reversed, emotionally at least, and the situation changed: now he waited anxiously to hear her response to his feelings, and she regarded the whole thing with impatience. Just recalling how he had behaved the night all of this had started – annoyed, at first completely unreceptive to whatever she might have had to say – made present Palkia wince. He let the self-deprecating contempt peter off, though; he knew he had to muster up every bit of sincerity that lay within him if he wanted Dialga to see.

Taking a deep, albeit shuddering breath to calm his already-frayed nerves, the space dragon flexed his claws a few times and closed his eyes. For perhaps the umpteenth time tonight, he went over the speech he had spent the entire flight here preparing, the words that, he fervently hoped, conveyed his emotional turmoil and how much he wanted it gone. I love you. I'm sorry I hurt you. And if you don't take me back, then I understand.

But even those words, earnest as they were, allowed room for Dialga, ever the quick-witted legend, to slip some sharp comments between each phrase. Like so many times over the last ten days, Palkia swore he could hear her scoffing in his ear, feel every bit of acid she could manage to coat her words with.

I love you.

Well isn't that convenient.

I'm sorry I hurt you.

After you got freaked out at seeing what you can do to me, right?

And if you don't take me back, then I understand.

Good thing I've got an open invitation from you.

Imaginary as the biting remarks were, they still stung Palkia's heart, and he opened his eyes with a sigh. Knowing his luck, this wasn't going to go well at all, and he would likely walk away – if he could even walk at all after this – with the most important organ on his human form missing for even daring to entertain the notion of her forgiveness.

And yet…

Giratina's words about Dialga still loving him echoed in his head, and he found himself clinging to the basilisk's opinion with all the conviction left in his tired body, despite the very small part of him that was pointing out how he had never put stock in the literal bitch from hell's comments before now. For one thing, her confession about Latios soundly disproved the latter theory; and for another, Palkia knew Giratina would never say something she did not mean. If she believed he still had a chance, then he would, too.

I'm still all right.

Why, then, did the feeling seem so half-hearted to him?

Shaking his head, Palkia groaned aloud in a way that sounded almost obscene in the night's silence. His hand made its way up to his head to massage his temple in a vain attempt to stave off the sudden headache that had found purchase inside his skull. At least her actually agreeing to come here tonight soothed that ache, if only slightly. Frankly, it still bemused him that she had acquiesced to this request in the first place; but he found himself casting aside that wonder, for now.

"Hey."

He jolted and whirled around – a little too enthusiastically, he thought with a surge of mild embarrassment – at the sound of the voice he had unconsciously strained to hear all night. The silvery moonlight shone down and glowed off the steel surrounding her face and body, illuminating her approach as she trotted across the Spear Pillar to him. Staring at Dialga, Palkia suddenly realized just how starkly the moon illuminated her countenance, allowing the exasperation to become that much more apparent.

He swallowed, his heart beginning to race and near burst through his chest. Don't screw up, don't screw up…

And yet with all the conflict in his mind he couldn't think of what to say. As Dialga halted in front of him and angled her head to the side in an expectant gesture, and he saw not a hint of even the slight, grudging friendliness that had always marked her gaze when it landed on him, something inside him seemed to constrict. And suddenly, every thought was tripping over each other, rendering him speechless.

"Uh…" he managed intelligently. Oh, Arceus, this was not going well at all.

"Yes?" Dialga prompted, narrowing her eyes.

Oh, crap. He could tell by the annoyed twist of her lips that any trace of what had led her here tonight was starting to fade, facilitated by his lack of coherence. "I needed to talk to you alone," he blurted out.

"Well, obviously," Dialga said scathingly. "I gathered that much when you almost flew into me over the Cerulean Cape and demanded I meet you here the next night."

Her words resurrected the memory of his clumsy near-collision with her, along with how he had basically just spewed out his demands and then left, sent both humiliation and annoyance toward her rippling hotly along his spine and in his cheeks. She didn't have to remind him of that. "W-well, could you please just listen to me?"

Dialga sighed, her prior scorn immediately deflating visibly and allowing the same weary obligation she had carried at having to speak to him at the last meeting to take over. "Why am I bothering with this?" she murmured, shaking her head.

Before Palkia could do anything other than open his mouth, she lifted her gaze to meet his, a slightly difficult task for her due to their height difference. "All right," she said levelly. "I'm listening."

Although her voice sounded calm enough, Palkia could pick up the resignation in her eyes, as though she already planned to scowl at any attempt he made at reconciliation and destroy whatever hope he had of at least recovering their old relationship. Beyond that, though, lay… something else. Something that, he knew, had nagged at her and gently persuaded her to hear him out tonight.

Last chance, that something seemed to say, and it was a testament to Palkia's newly-increased self-control that he didn't stutter out something idiotic and fly off like he suddenly wanted to right then and there.

He took another deep breath to compose himself – in, out, in, out, until the churning in his stomach got a baby step closer to ceasing – before speaking. And his heart screaming in his chest made it a bit difficult to talk, but he managed to push that aside.

"I… at first, I thought I didn't love you. So when you confessed to me the last time we were here, I lied and said I felt the same, because I didn't want you castrating my human form if I told the truth."

"Why?" Dialga asked, even that single query filled with desperation and the desire to just hear its revealing counterpart. "As much as it would've hurt to hear the truth, when I found out you lied…"

When she only trailed off and tore her eyes away, clearly not wanting him to see the way they had steadily grown brighter, Palkia took that as an invitation to continue. "It just hurt more, right?" he asked, quietly. Not looking up, she just nodded, and he felt the minor increase in resolve that her speaking up had given him falter. No, don't think that way, just keep talking, he told himself determinedly.

"Well, that's the thing," he said, unable to keep from giving a self-deprecating chuckle. "Like I said, at first, I thought I really didn't feel the same about you that you did about me. But… then I told you the truth, just before Arceus sent us off to that patrol at the Lake of Rage." The notorious event before that patrol had crowded out said patrol's memory in his mind, but now Palkia found himself reminiscing on that day: splitting from Dialga to walk around the lake in their human forms; the red Gyarados taunting them; taking the monstrous snake down with their respective signature attacks…

Just remembering their display of teamwork sent an unexpected stream of resolve through his veins. The look on Dialga's face, half-hidden though her movement of angling it down had made it, suggested she was remembering too, if the slight smile was any indication. I can do this. "And I started noticing stuff about you, stuff I'd never noticed before. So, before I knew it, I…" He hesitated, before pushing the newfound bout of nervousness away; he had gotten this far without her exploding, after all. "That lie started becoming the truth."

At this, Dialga raised her head, gazing at her counterpart through wet eyelashes. The sight distressed Palkia and made tears prickle at the back of his own eyes, as they had done so many times in the past at both the notion and the sight of the rare display of weakness from her.

Before he could stop himself, he had strode forward and wrapped his arms around her neck, doing the best he could with the foot of height or so she had over him. He could feel her start more than hear it; it shook through his body with the same force it must have taken to tear it from her throat. However, she didn't push him away, just stiffened in the embrace.

Hearing only her ragged breaths beside his ear, Palkia kept going, suddenly heedless, his chest feeling battered at this point. "And… and that was why it hurt so much, when you didn't talk to me, and I thought I didn't have any hope left for at least seeing you and getting to talk to you and hearing you insult me. It bugged me, you know? I started hearing you everywhere I went, too –"

"Palkia," Dialga interrupted, a little sharply, he thought, "that's enough."

He drew back, tilting his head back to gauge her reaction. Terror that he had said too much seeped into him, but as he took in the look in those tear-bright amber eyes, that tentative hope in his heart rose up all the more strongly.

Because he could see she was just as desperate for all this to have a happy ending as he was.

A smile curved across her lips as she spoke. "I still do, you know."

Palkia blinked, lost. "Still what?"

Dialga huffed, a sound whose dramatic effect was deadened slightly by the half-sob mangling it, and rolled her eyes, spurring a few more tears to streak down her cheeks. "You said I felt the same way about you. That should be present-tense."

Palkia's jaw dropped. "So…?"

"Are you going to make me say it again?" The temporal dragon fixed her gaze on him, her smile widening just a tad. "I still love you. Idiot."

The insult sounded tacked on just for good measure, so Palkia found it in himself to dismiss it. He also found himself not giving a damn that she had adhered to her normal policy of tempering an actual compliment with a pejorative, because Giratina was right and that optimistic corner of his mind was right and he wasn't a completely lost cause after all.

"That… that's great!" he cried, throwing his arms around her again. Clearly he had put more force into the hug than he had intended, because she actually staggered back, all but pulling him down into the fall that would have likely resulted had she not straightened just in time.

"H-hey," she spluttered, and Palkia swore he could feel the part of her neck that was pressed against his cheek grow warmer, a fact that made him smirk into her shoulder. "I wasn't finished."

His smirk immediately faded. "So…?" he repeated stupidly.

Dialga sighed, the noise escaping into the summer-warmed night air. "That doesn't make everything okay, though. You still hurt me, remember?"

Palkia closed his eyes, his eyelashes brushing against her with the movement. "Yeah," he mumbled. How could I not?

"Oh, calm down," his counterpart said, her voice beginning to shake with the patented influence of tears, although now whether or not they originated from happiness or sorrow escaped him. "It's not as bad as you think. I just… I think I need time before I can trust you enough with something this important again."

If you don't take me back, then I understand.

This scenario had occurred to Palkia, but he hadn't anticipated the agony that it would bring him. He tried to remind himself he should be damn grateful she had accepted him in the first place, but that didn't stem the current of pain that washed over the barely-healed cracks in his heart and stung like lemon juice in a wound.

He pulled back, stepping away from her so he wouldn't have to crane his neck to see her face. The amber eyes he had come to adore so much carried no sense of duty to let him down as gently as she knew how, only a desire for him to just understand.

And, as much as it pained him, he did understand. He could empathize with her all too deeply. Hell, if anything, she had had a more patient reaction to him than he had dared anticipate. But he knew how things had to be.

I want to be with you, but that'll have to wait.

So he forced a smile onto his face and nodded. "I get it."

At once, the tense aura of pleading desperation about her dissipated, and her shoulders slumped in a breath of relief that she had clearly held while he contemplated her decision. "Good," she sighed. Abruptly, though, a serious expression came over her and she appraised him anew. He wondered just what was going through her mind right now. Reluctance, at taking him back even in this manner? Wonder, at how deeply he had changed from the immature dragon she had fallen for before?

Happiness, at knowing she could serve as a confidante and non-judgmental conduit for him to pour his less-than-acceptable emotions into?

But isn't that what love is? The ability to confide and understand, but also the ability to empathize?

"This isn't forever, you know," Dialga whispered, moving closer and pressing her flank against his. "Me getting my trust back, I mean."

"Yeah," Palkia answered, interrupting whatever she would have said and reaching out to embrace her again. "I know. And I'll wait for you to trust me again."

I'll wait for as long as it takes.

He left that unspoken, though it was implied. Couldn't afford to sound like a lovelorn schoolgirl even this late in the game, after all.

"Well, this is certainly an unexpected miracle."

Arceus' opening remark was emitted amongst a rather triumphant chuckle, and Palkia slid his eyes across the room to where Latios had reclaimed his pedestal next to his sister. Latias had a breathless grin on her face as she butted her brother's shoulder, all her fire and happiness having returned with him; the azure eon dragon just smiled and ruffled the fur at the top of his sister's head before glancing back to the god Pokemon at the front of the room.

Palkia still could barely believe it. When he had stepped into the Hall of Legends alongside Dialga, Raikou and Celebi had immediately snatched the two of them up and pulled them toward the front of the corridor, ignoring the two dragons' demands as to what exactly was going on. Palkia himself had just been about to give in to his impatience and walk off entirely when they had cleared the large group of legendaries surrounding the source of their friends' awe and he caught sight of dark blue alongside golden-clad gray.

And Latios, floating alongside Giratina, had turned to face the shocked newcomers and given them a blithe smile. "Come to join the party?" he'd asked, cocking his head to the side. "I don't know if you've heard, but I'm not dead anymore."

While Dialga had clamored over Latios' words and asked him just what had happened, Palkia found his gaze drawn to Giratina, curious despite himself about how she had reacted to this. She had been observing Dialga and Latios talking with a look of vague, yet genuine, amusement quirking her lips upward, but when she detected Palkia watching her she had looked at him. Wine met crimson, and Palkia had surprised himself by not immediately recoiling from her gaze.

It was strange, though. Now that he had gotten a taste of – he wasn't sure how to put it – her humanity, she failed to intimidate him anymore.

She had broken the eye contact first, by just giving him a single nod.

Returning to the present, Palkia still felt a wave of disbelief that echoed how he had felt at seeing the Pokemon he had believed dead. Arceus continuing to speak, though, forced him back into the conversation.

"The only conclusion I have come to," the qilin said, wonder obvious in his voice as he gazed at Latios, "is that the force of both halves of Latios' spirit energy colliding caused a clash between both Soul Dew and spirit. Obviously the spirit came out victorious, for here he stands in front of us."

"So wait," Raikou suddenly interrupted, drawing every gaze to him. The thunder tiger was eyeing Latios with curiosity and wonder, an expression that induced a wry smile and a mildly uncomfortable look from the azure eon dragon. Latias gave her brother an encouraging nuzzle at that. "If Latios is here, then what happened to the Soul Dew?"
"I was getting to that," Arceus said, a bit of an edge to his voice. Palkia risked a glance over at Giratina and saw her staring at the god Pokemon with undisguised interest on her features.

While Suicune elbowed her counterpart and gave him a hard stare, and he shrugged sheepishly, Arceus began to explain. "The only concrete explanation I can think of is that…" He paused, his green eyes roving over the room, before continuing, slowly, as though forming his explanation carefully. "When those two halves collided, even though one had to emerge the victor, the defeated half couldn't just disappear. My guess is that, if the worst case scenario had occurred, the Soul Dew would have returned to Alto Mare and held Latios' spirit. As it is now, though…"

Those omniscient emerald eyes landed on Giratina, and Palkia realized this explanation was, really, meant for her and Latios alone.

"Since the half that held Latios himself is here before us, he himself is the Soul Dew," Arceus finished.

Silence. Then the room exploded in murmurs of shock and bemusement and growing understanding. Dialga leaned over to Palkia, the plates along the side of her head nearly brushing the side of his head in the process, and raised her voice to be heard over the din. "Latios is the Soul Dew? Now I've heard it all," she remarked, her eyes wide.

Palkia nodded, moving his gaze from Giratina – who had a look of dawning understanding on her face – to his counterpart. "Giratina said Latios had gone away for a while," the space dragon called to Dialga, "but I didn't think it was because his two halves of himself were fighting or whatever."

Dialga gave a single nod of acknowledgment. "Look at Latios," she said suddenly, nodding to the azure eon dragon's pedestal. Following her gaze, Palkia spotted Latios sitting back on his haunches, a look of ineffable shock on his features. Beside him, Latias gave him a worried frown, nudging him to try and rouse him.

"He looks so surprised," Dialga went on. "Freaked out, I guess."

"Why would that be?" Palkia asked, tilting his head to the side.

That earned him a tiny glare from Dialga. "Do you even know how important the Soul Dew was to the inhabitants of Alto Mare? And they already revere Latios enough as it is. If they somehow figure out that Latios himself is the Soul Dew, they won't let him leave town at all."

"Oh." Palkia blinked.

"What?" Dialga shouted; apparently, he hadn't spoken loudly enough for her to hear him, close even as they were.

"I said – ugh, never mind!" Palkia huffed. As fate would have it, though, Arceus chose that moment to stomp his hoof on the edge of his pedestal for silence, roaring "Silence!" as he did so and effectively startling the hell out of everyone.

As quickly as the anger had flared in Arceus' voice, it had vanished, replaced by the unnatural calm that always held sway over the qilin. "Thank you," Arceus sighed. "As I was saying, Latios may be the Soul Dew, but that does not necessarily bind him to only stay in Alto Mare."

Across the room, Giratina straightened in renewed interest.

"As a legendary," Arceus went on, "he is safe to wander as he wishes, while still extending his protection toward the town."

A tiny sigh of relief was heard from Latios' direction.

A beat; then Arceus clumsily shifted the subject. "Now then," he said, "on to other matters…"

Palkia took that moment to allow the god's words to fade to a buzz in the back of his mind and casually look over at Giratina and Latios. The former had relief scrawled onto her countenance, but once she noted the eyes on her, she quickly plastered her typical detached annoyance over it; and as for the latter…

The latter had a tiny, serene smile on his face.

Palkia really couldn't blame him. After all, death may have tried to take the eon dragon, but, it seemed, not even that could eradicate a legendary from the world for good. The fact was an obvious one, but the reaffirmation of it sent a surge of almost ridiculously strong resolve through Palkia's veins.

"Hey," Dialga said, lightly butting his shoulder and nearly goring his pearl with the action. Palkia barely managed not to wince at the narrowly-avoided accident as he looked at her; at his counterpart, the one he had had the emotional strength to realize he belonged with. "What are you thinking about?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. Stuff."

"Well, don't," the temporal dragon whispered, giving him a hard stare. "At least pretend to listen, will you?"

As he gave her a perfunctory dismissing response and she shifted her gaze back to Arceus, who was still talking about only he knew what, Palkia allowed his own crimson eyes to rest on her. Death had visited his life recently, too, hadn't it? The seeming death of her love, and the death of his denial toward his own love for her.

A requiem for the living, he realized. An apparent death becoming filled with life again.

And suddenly, he understood Giratina's comparison all too well.

His selfishness likening Dialga's love to Latios' status had been accurate after all.

I love you, he thought as he watched Dialga pad toward the door.

She felt his gaze on him and turned, appraising him with mild impatience. "Palkia? Are you coming?"

The annoyance in her gaze roused him, reminded him he couldn't just stare at her forever, and forced him to nod. "Yeah," he said, trying not to sound strained with all he was leaving unsaid. Now, he thought dryly, he understood how she had felt all those years, hiding her feelings for him.

And you were just oblivious enough not to notice.

He shoved that voice down and refocused on the present. You told her you would wait for her, he told himself, and you have to. You have to.

No matter what happened, he would adhere to that promise.

Giratina met Latios and his sister just outside the meeting room, fighting the mighty urge to push her way past Groudon and Kyogre as she did so. Maybe it was just her, but she thought the blue whale was glaring at something further down the hall rather venomously; following Kyogre's gaze, the basilisk saw Palkia trailing after Dialga and fought back a smirk. Clearly, some of Dialga's friends still held some animosity toward the space dragon for having effectively shattered Dialga's heart in his claws.

Making a mental note to track down the space dragon and ask how things had gone with Dialga – for Giratina figured he had probably talked to his counterpart already; the fact that he still had all his limbs intact told her that much – Giratina tapped Latios on the shoulder with one wing and smiled as he turned around. "So, Soul Dew," she said, her grin widening at the eye-roll the nickname earned, "you heading home after this?"

"Okay, first of all," Latios said, narrowing one eye and folding his arms, "please don't call me that. It freaks me out enough already. Second of all, yeah, we're heading home." He glanced at his sister. "Aren't we?" he asked, without enmity in his voice.

Latias shrugged, a little evil smirk of her own coming across her face. "Oh, I don't know," she sang, dancing around her brother in midair. "I… may or may not have already made plans with Rayquaza this afternoon."

The revelation disturbed Latios quite obviously; he gave a rather violent start, one that nearly unbalanced him in midair, before collecting himself rather forcibly, as though reminding himself he had already reconciled with his sister's feelings for Rayquaza. "Okay," he said, the word coming out as more of a question. "And you thought it'd be okay to not tell me… why?"

"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud," Latias laughed. "I'd let you be alone with Giratina any day of the week."

Both Giratina and Latios' eyes widened at Latias' suggestive tone; the basilisk actually let out a startled murmur before looking down at the ground, her pride twitching as heat rushed to her cheeks at all the implications of the crimson dragon's remark. Latios composed himself more quickly and elbowed his sister. "Yeah, but you're my baby sister. That's different," he protested in a high-pitched voice.

But Latias just laughed and floated off, to where Rayquaza waited at the end of the hall. As Rayquaza swept Latias closer with a flick of his tail, Giratina saw the green dragon's eyes dart up to Latios. For a moment, the two of them surveyed each other; then Latios nodded, and Rayquaza did the same.

"Wow," the basilisk couldn't help commenting, following Latios as he began to move toward the exit. "I guess you don't hate Rayquaza as much anymore."

"Huh?" When she gave him an exasperated look, Latios laughed, a little hastily. "Oh, right, that. Let's just say we have more in common than I thought."

"Like how you're both obsessed with Latias?"

Latios' eyes widened. "Uh… yeah, pretty much. How'd you know?"

Giratina chuckled. "Latios, the world already knows. That's why it was so funny to hear you insult him all the time."

Latios frowned indignantly at her words. Giratina just laughed.

"So," she said, once her amusement had faded just a tad, "are you going home?"

His frown deepened, but quickly vanished as he curved his neck down thoughtfully. "Hm. Maybe. I'm… kind of tired," he admitted.

She could understand that. Coming back to life, along with having one's peers clamoring in shock at one's coming back to life, tended to bring exhaustion down on one's head.

Still…

Immediately her pride set upon tearing her hesitation apart, insisting she had an obligation to return home and watch the underworld, to make sure the spirits didn't raise too much hell – no pun intended. But her heart, the emotional part of her, the part that made her a sentient being, pushed that aside.

"I know I should be getting back, too," she murmured, "but I…" She broke off with a small growl, knowing what she wanted to say, but not quite knowing how to phrase it without sounding like an idiot.

Fortunately, Latios heard what she was leaving unsaid. "I'll take you on a tour of Alto Mare," he suggested. "Let you see the part that isn't the garden."

He reached out, hesitated, then seemed to decide to throw all caution to the wind and brushed his palm against her neck. The contact made her shiver and feel warm all at once, a sensation that induced more contentment than irritation.

"Sounds good," she said softly, not flinching away.

Latios stared at her for a moment, then smiled and shook his head.

Giratina blinked, then narrowed her eyes, momentarily confused. "What?"

"Nothing," the azure eon dragon chuckled. "Just… I love you."

Hearing those words amplified the fire and ice that his claws on her had introduced, and she looked away, suddenly embarrassed to the point of speechlessness.

She heard Latios laugh under his breath and swung her head back around, fully intending to give him a good glare; but the look in his eyes made her relent.

She could yell at him later.

"Hey, Giratina!"

The loud call from above made the Bibarel she was stalking jerk up in the grass and bound off, terrified, into the ferns. Giratina straightened and snarled to herself; another prospect for breakfast, gone. She craned her head up, a furious remark percolating on the tip of her tongue, only to blink when she saw Palkia of all Pokemon lighting down in front of her.

"Why the hell are you here?" she asked, more curious than annoyed, even though her stomach was crying out even more loudly now.

Touching down and allowing the longer blades of grass to swing up to his knees, Palkia gave her a taken-aback look. "Hello to you too," he said.

Giratina narrowed her eyes, wondering why he didn't immediately quail and stutter out something about being lost; then she remembered how much of her heart she had revealed to him on that stupid patrol and felt her aggravation increase. Of course. Arceus had probably put them together on purpose, too, that damned white donkey.

Pushing the knowledge that she had probably completely destroyed her reputation in Palkia's eyes aside, she inclined her head to him. "Whatever. Hi. Morning. Now why are you here?"

Palkia didn't look mollified in the slightest, but spoke anyway. "I, uh… wanted to tell you how it went with Dialga?"

That made Giratina blink. Oh yeah, she remembered, that was his little issue that night. Considering a week or so had passed between then and now, and she had seen them talking so genially to one another at the meeting yesterday, she figured he had talked to her already. "That's right," she said, beginning to circle Palkia, who followed her rather anxiously with his eyes. "All right, I guess I am kind of curious. What happened?"

He shrugged, still watching her. "It… actually went better than I could have expected." A rather stupid grin crossed his face at his words. Surprisingly, Giratina's annoyance at the sight came only from how idiotic it made him look, and not the reason behind it. She supposed now that even she had fallen to the beast known as love, she could understand his ridiculous happiness.

"So?" she prompted. "Are you guys together? Holding each other every night? Reciting sappy poems and getting gooey over them?"

Palkia's grin turned sour at her wry remarks, and he gave her a rather petulant glower. "No!" he protested, making Giratina smirk.

"So what happened?" she asked, hardly believing how interested she was in the outcome. Maybe because Palkia, in his ignorance, so resembled her before she had figured out not even she was immune to the feeling that made martyrs and dreamers and heroes out of mundane beings.

The space dragon sighed. "Well, she does still love me," he offered.

"Get to the point."

"All right, all right! Geez…" Palkia hesitated, then apparently decided to just come out and say it. "She does still love me," he repeated. What, is there an echo in here? Giratina thought, but remained silent, only flipping the underside of one wing up in a silent invitation for him to get on with it. "But we're not… together, exactly. She said she needs… time, to trust me again."

The basilisk took in his words, words that emerged laden with obvious bewilderment that she, herself, did not experience. As much as it clearly hurt Palkia – the pained undertone to his confession, along with the raw look in his eyes, revealed that to her – Giratina knew the reasoning behind Dialga's decision. After all, the last time Dialga had extended a proverbial hand to Palkia, had so tentatively offered everything she was and had to him, he had all but crushed that hand under his feet and thrown her heart across Sinnoh.

"Well," she said, her voice fairly even despite her nigh inability to muster optimism, "at least she said that much."

Palkia let out the breath he had been holding and turned away. "Thanks," he muttered sarcastically.

Oh, for Arceus' sake. Giratina seized his shoulder with one wing and turned him around to face her. "Do you love her?" she demanded.

Palkia stared at her with surprise overtaking his prior irritation. "Yes," he answered, finally, slowly.

"Then you can wait," Giratina said. A flicker of movement just beyond him caught her eye, but she forced her stomach to calm even at the notion of food and refocused on the space dragon's face. "I waited for the one I loved to come back to life, even though I knew it probably wouldn't happen. But hey, look – it did."

As she surveyed the growing reassurance on Palkia's face, Giratina thought back on everything she had done with Latios. Finding him that first day; having him follow her incessantly; rousing him only with the false news that Rayquaza and Latias had gotten together; helping him move the topaz crystal that so reminded him of everything he had lost; firing Shakespeare back and forth at each other; the tender look in his eyes when they had first realized he was a solid spirit, not translucent like the others, and he had stroked her wing; how he had begged her to cloak him in the Mist of Between so he could go see Latias; the way he had held her human form in her arms as she had bled all over the pillar behind them; his annoyance at her balking at taking her jacket off in front of him; hearing him say he loved her smile; finding out the way to bring him back; spending those days without him; finding him outside the cave; hearing he loved her.

And she found it in herself to genuinely believe Palkia could experience the same thing, and allowing that belief to be conveyed in her next words.

"If miracles like life from death can happen," she said with a smile, "then you're in good shape."

So many emotions flew across Palkia's face then: surprise, suspicion, nostalgia, then finally realization. Giratina wondered if he, like her, was remembering all the days he had spent with the one he loved.

Then he gave a nod. "You're right," he said, with a deep breath. "Thank you."

Giratina smirked, letting her wing return to her side. "I try."

As he gave another nod and turned to go, she returned to her hunt for breakfast, though not without some introspection marring the simple desire for food in her heart. If she could glean a miracle from something as bleak as Latios' death, then Palkia could, too.

And she couldn't hold back a breathless grin of her own.

Life and death. Death and life.

It should just be a cycle, endless. Timeless. Unbreakable.

But something came along, and shattered that belief. Someone did.

A requiem for the living.

And I don't regret a bit of it.

And neither do I.

It's a funny thing about writing a fic like this. It makes you step back and think. About people, about life and love and all that good shit, and everything in between. And I know how melodramatic I'm getting, but I just needed to get all of that out.

Thank you so, so much to everyone who's reviewed and supported me throughout this fic; I really do appreciate it. And even to those who have faved without reviewing; thanks to you too.

Now do what authors like me love you to do and REVIEW!