OMG Like, double update! Yay! So if you clicked the get to last chapter button thingy, then click back one more or you'll miss out lol

I had to, because I have no internet and home, and I'm not sure when I'll be able to use it again. Sucks to be me.

Disclaimer: I dont own a thing. I'm poor like that.

"Zidane!"

"Oh God!"

"I-Is he all right?"

"Zidane, talk to me!"

"All right, everyone, back!" Baku's voice rang out over the rest, and he pushed at the crowd with his long arms. "Give the boy some air!" Zidane groaned weakly, and his eyelids fluttered, looking at the world through slitted eyes.

"... Hey." He finally managed to groan out weakly, his vision swimming slightly.

"Hey." Baku replied. "How are you feeling, Zidane?" The blonde groaned, his eyes closed again.

"Like... an airship... fell on me." He finally managed to get out, and it was true. Every bone in his body ached, a harsh throbbing seeming to encase him, a steady flash of pain with every heartbeat, except his lower half, which felt numb. He wasn't yet conscious enough to recognise this absence of feeling however, to weak to even keep his eyes open.

"Bwahahaha!" Baku chuckled. "I think you'd be a little less injured by that, my boy!" He would have clapped him on the shoulder, but thought better of it. Far from hurting his ears, Baku's deep, booming laughter soothed Zidane. He was still largely unaware of what the heck was going on. Where was he? What happened? And where was...

"Where..." He took another breath, the ability to talk in complete sentences was as sapped as his strength. "Am... I?"

"You're in the village of the Black Mages." Vivi finally spoke up, his voice trembling. "You were brought here after being rescued from the Iifa tree."

"Oh." Zidane finally opened his eyes again, struggling to get his head around everything, trying to focus. "Where... Dagger?"

"She's in Alexandria." Marcus spoke up. "She doesn't know about you being alive yet. We didn't think you were going to make it."

"Want... See her." Zidane mumbled, his had still aching profusely.

"You will." Baku silenced the others with a look. "But you have to get better first. Or at least, a little more healed." Zidane gave a little half-nod, then sunk into a fresh silence, his hand in Mikoto's lax.

"What..." He needed to know. "Happened... Kuja."

"He's dead." There was no emotion in Blanks voice as he retold the story. "Died as the tree collapsed, we think."

"... Oh." Zidane had visibly slumped and Mikoto squeezed his hand tighter.

"You were in the tree for almost three weeks before we found you." Marcus added. "We'd almost given up hope."

"... Hurts." Zidane acted as though he hadn't heard Marcus. "Tired..."

"Zidane's right." Baku stood up. "All right, everybody out. Marcus, you go with Vivi and get those Mages in here. See if they have any potions that can dull the senses. The rest of you, go and get some rest if you can." It was not yet sunset, but all except Blank and Ruby were exhausted. There were various nods of agreement, and soon Baku and Zidane were the only souls in the room.

"How you feeling?" He asked as the room was finally emptied. Zidane gave the barest ghost of a smile, eyes closed again.

"Sore." He mumbled. "Must look... Horrible."

"Well, you were stuck at the bottom of a tree for almost a month then spent a week passed out in some sort of coma." Baku kept his tone easy and light, to keep Zidane's ragged spirits high. "Not many people could still look good after all that."

"How... Bad?" Zidane was starting to wake up a little, as the fog on his brain started to clear, and he opened his eyes again, this time keeping them open.

"I'm not gonna lie to you." Baku said bluntly. "You're very, very, lucky to be alive. Fractured eye socket, nasty head wound, broken collarbone, cracked ribs, part of your tail is crushed, badly broken arm, and..." With this, he stood up, concern etched very clearly in his face.

"Wh-what?" Zidane managed to groan, watching weakly as Baku walked over the foot of his bed, and pulled at the blankets on the tail end. "What... you doing?"

"Just tell me if you can feel this." Zidane's feet were exposed in the air. Baku tightly squeezed his right foot, looking questioningly at Zidane.

"No..." Confusion started to flood Zidane's features. "Can't..."

"All right." Baku forced him to keep his features calm. "What about this?" He grabbed a dagger at his waist, gently running the point up and down the underside of his left foot.

"N-No..." Zidane's stomach started to churn. What was going on?

"Okay." He replaced the dagger, and refolded the sheets. Just as he did so, the two Mages entered the room, one carrying an array of glass bottles and jars of strange substances.

"I see he is awake." Mr. 64 nodded impassively. "How is he?"

"All right." Baku forced himself to keep his voice steady. "No... No feeling in his feet." He kept his voice lowered, trying not to worry Zidane.

"Ah." Mr 64's tone was grave. "I'm going to give him a painkilling potion, and hopefully, he'll go to sleep. He needs all the rest he can get at the moment."

"Got it." Baku nodded, then turned to the young bandit. "Zidane, I'm going to go for a bit. The Mages will take care of you, all right?"

"... Kay." Zidane nodded, and closed his eyes. Baku swallowed deeply as he left the inn, stepping into the late afternoon air. He saw Blank and Ruby, talking quietly on a little grassy space, and made a beeline for them.

"Yer don' 'ave good news." Ruby said solemnly at the look on Baku's face. The chief bandit sighed, and shook his head as he sat on the grass with a thud.

"Zidane... He can't feel anything in his feet." Baku reported, watching as Blank stilled, and Ruby placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, being stricken herself. "He's... paralyzed." He said the last word somewhat faintly, staring at an indistinguishable point in the distance.

"So... That's it then." Blank's voice was very slow, and he tried his hardest to keep it steady, clutching at the hands on his shoulder. "He's... Not going to walk again."

"Blank, we don' know that." Ruby protested. "He migh' be fine in a month o' so. Righ' Boss? Ain' that whut yer said?"

"Uh, yeah." He nodded, although in reality he actually felt vaguely sick. "Something along those lines."

"I want to see him." Blank burst out strongly, staring to get to his feet. "I want to-"

"Blank, I don't think that's a good idea." Baku protested, pulling Blank back onto the earth. "Not right now, I-"

"N-no, I'll be all right." Blank tried to reassure the man. "I won't flip out, I swear. I'll be steady, and all that you said. I promise."

"No no, I don't mean it like that." Baku waved his hand. "I meant that he's getting drugged and put to sleep by the Mages. He's in a lot of pain right now, and they want him to be sleeping as much as possible."

"O-Oh." Blank relaxed. "Okay then. I thought you meant I couldn't handle it."

"I know you can handle it." He stood up, and clapped a hand on Blank's shoulder. "I'm glad t' see you got a hold of yourself again."

"Well, thanks." Blank nodded. "I just... I don't know what was wrong with me, to be honest."

"I do." Baku said seriously. "It was just stress and tiredness and fear. Don't think anything of it. You knew Zidane best, of course you were going to hurt the most from this. Everyone knew that."

"Ah." Blank murmured. "Well, thanks, I guess. I just needed bringing down to earth."

"Aint that right." Baku cuffed Blank around the head. "Look, I'm gonna go doss down for a bit. And I need a good sleep. Don't you dare wake me unless it's important, all right?"

"You got it." Blank nodded as Baku stamped off. As soon as he was out of earshot, the man sighed deeply, resting his head on his drawn-up knees.

"Blank." Ruby said, unsure of what to say. Normally, she would have teased him, but of course this was serious.

"I think I still am cracking up." Blank muttered, his voice still slightly muffled. "I just feel so screwed up. And man, poor Zidane." He felt as though there were no words, really, to express just how bad he felt for his newly-crippled friend.

"Yeah." Ruby sounded just as morose. "Poor, poor Zidane." She sniffed a little, and Blank turned, looping an arm laxly around her shoulders.

"Hey, I thought the Boss said none of that." Blank smiled weakly. "Come on, Ruby, chin up. It's going to be okay. I'm a lot more relieved than I thought I would be, now that he's awake. Don't you see? He's not going to die. He might not ever walk again, and that's so sad the thought of it makes me feel sick, but he's alive. And talking."

"Listen ta yer." Ruby sniffed, but Blanks weak cheer was infectious, and she smiled. "Talkin' as though yer weren' the worst of all a few days ago."

"I know." Blank groaned. "And I'm still so angry I want to beat the snot out of him, trust me. But the happiness and relief us just overriding that, right now."

"That's somethin', at least." Ruby sighed, and rubbed at her moist eyes. "Lets' go huh? See t' others."

"All right." Blank agreed, and stood up. He extended an arm, and helped Ruby to her feet. As she straightened, she was very close to Blank, and something in her face, her eyes, gave the impression that she wanted to embrace him, perhaps, or something even more outlandish, but a moment later, she coughed, and turned away, heading back towards the village, leaving Blank with a blush on his face so wide it stained his ears.

"An' jus' whut are yer two doin'?" Ruby asked, her hands on her hips as she stared into the room. Cinna looked up from the mixing bowl in his hands, looking rather sheepish.

"Baking." Mikoto withdrew her head from the oven, which she had just added fresh wood to. "Cinna's teaching me how to make South Gate Bundt Cake."

"Ooooh." Wanting to keep Zidane out of her head for a moment, Ruby pulled up a chair at the table, watching Cinna mixing the batter cautiously. "I didn' realise they ever released t' recipe."

"They didn't." Cinna admitted. "I'm sorta winging it here. Is the oven hot enough, Mikoto?"

"As it ever will be." She took a seat next to Ruby, watching as Cinna spooned the dark mixture into the tin. "Will it be nice?"

"Hopefully." Cinna murmured, setting the tin into the oven, and closing the door. "But hey, we tried, didn't we?" Blank, who was standing in the doorway, smiled. "You look cheery."

"I'm trying, like you." Blank teased, but took the other seat next to Ruby. "Baku spoke to us." His expression darkened, and he looked down at his hands. At his left, Ruby rested her head on folded arms, knowing what was coming.

"And?" Mikoto's knuckles were white. He'd never realised before just how much it was affecting Mikoto, but on further thought, of course it would. Zidane was her only real link to this world, was her brother. She may have only met him recently, but had been very aware of his existence all of her life. She was also very young, he realised thoughtfully. She couldn't have been older than thirteen, although in Genome years, that could have meant anything, in his opinion.

"No feeling in his feet." Blank relayed Baku's short message. "Paralyzed." Cinna closed his eyes, stricken, and Mikoto bit down hard on her lower lip, clearly trying to keep her composure. Guilty at causing such distress, Blank leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. In just six short words, he'd turned the cheer and happiness in the bright little room to a depressing gloom. It just didn't seem fair.

Dagger was in another dream.

Of clouds, a deeper purple, which seemed to enclose her tightly. She stood on a little hill, more of a mound, the earth barren, and bare. She looked down, less surprised than she would have like to have been, to see a long black dress, the full mourning garb, dressed on her thin frame. A black veil stretched over her face. Even her handkerchief was black.

She started to walk, in the direction the clouds chose, which parted way for her. After a very short while, she found herself in a clearing. The clouds dissipated completely, and she eventually saw it was in her own castle.

The cemetery.

Grabbing tight handfuls of her dress, Dagger continued to walk, drawn like a magnet to the centre, where a tall white marble statue had been erected. A powerful warrior, wielding a weapon that was only the stuff of legend. Zidane.

She gave a muffled sob. Below the statue, stretched out on another block of white marble, lay the dead thief himself, hair freshly washed and combed, and wearing the traditional robes of the King of Alexandria. Dagger slowly walked towards Zidane, but as she was a few steps away, she paused, eyes widening.

He was ancient.

Well, ancient, was a harsh word, but he appeared much older. His blonde hair was streaked with grey, heavy lines set around his mouth and eyes. There was a crown on his head, of delicate gold set with emeralds and sapphires. Confused, Dagger took a step back, eyes falling on the proud golden plaque that stood underneath the tall statue. "Zidane Tribal, seventy-fourth King of Alexandria. Fell gloriously in battle at the hands of Burmecian rebels in the thirtieth year of his reign, aged forty-eight." Daggers' voice died in her throat, and she fell back, holding a hand to her mouth. "Wh-what is going on?"

"This is one path your life may lead." Dagger froze, and looked up to the sky, but all she saw were the same deep purple clouds, turbulent and stormy. The rich, golden Voice continued, unabated. "For even if he lives, and all you desire shall come to pass, happiness is fleeting."

"Wh-What do you mean?" Dagger cried out, returning her gaze to the dead King. She longed to reach out and touch him. "Is this a prophecy? Explain yourself!"

"I do not have to explain myself to a mortal such as you." The Voice hardened, and Dagger bowed her head, slightly embarrassed. "This is no prophecy. This is one of the many paths of life which you may lead. You are one of the very few, which Fate has not directed from since before birth. Indeed, you have already directed your own future, from the moment you broke your mothers trust, and fled the castle, under the guise of being kidnapped."

"I-I do not understand." Dagger breathed. "Are you to say that I'm the one who has to save Zidane?"

"Far from it." The Voice directed the young Queen. "Zidane is another being outside the jurisdiction of Fate. His future was determined, as was yours, before birth. His destiny was that of death and destruction of the Gaian people. Now that that future has been broken, he has direction of his own life."

"Do you know what will happen to him?" Dagger's finger caressed Zidane's silver-stained locks.

"In the near future, I have some idea."

"Is he alive then?" Dagger dared to hope, turning her tearful face back up to the sky.

"Yes." It was a directive Voice, firm and authoritarian. "But do not fill yourself with hope. He is at the doorway of death. And even if he survives, he will still have the hardest challenge of his life to face."

"Wh-What do you mean?" Dagger pleaded, wiping at her damp cheeks. "What can be harder than overcoming the greatest threat the world has ever faced?"

"Overcoming his own body." The Voice stated, the girl more confused than ever. "Our greatest challenges are never external. They come from within. Zidane's most horrible prison will be the confinements of his broken body, shall he live."

"I-I still don't understand..." Dagger sniffed. "What confinements?"

"I shall not tell you his story, any more than I shall tell him yours." The Voice actually sounded rather stern. "This path which you see has become the least likely, as time wears on. He will become the King of Alexandria, and indeed, the most powerful that the kingdom has ever seen. He will then begin to 'share' this power with the surrounding nations and spread his jurisdiction over the Mist Continent, and eventually the world. But the time he is forty, he shall be a powerful and bloodthirsty tyrant, the entire planet of Gaia completely under his thumb."

"N-No!" Dagger shouted angrily. "Zidane would never let that happen! He's not like that!"

"I said one path, my child. And as time wears on, this path grows thinner. Soon, it will diminish completely, one way or another. I do not see this happening."

"Then, why show this to me?" Dagger cried. "Why not show Zidane as a good King, dying of some illness when he's very old?"

"Because, you need to be aware." The Voice, although strong, ringing heavily throughout the scene, was still incredibly calm. "Part of Zidane's rise to power is the complacency of his wife. You." Daggers' mouth was partly open in surprise. "You will be so ignorant, so blind to him and trusting, like all of his loyal subjects, that you would not realise until it would be too late. You must know that this is still possible. You are the rightful ruler of Alexandria. It is only by sexism and politics that Zidane may become King beside you, instead of some Queen Consort. You must be aware that the seed of evil is inside him. It was planted inside him, at the very early stage of creation. The bloodlust and hunger for power, to dominate and rule Gaia, was bred into him on purpose. It may have been almost beaten out of him by the young Kuja and replaced with a love for the Gaian people by the Bandit chief, but it still exists. And it still may prove to be his downfall."

"B-But he wouldn't." Dagger argued. "His love for Gaia, for me, for its' people, is much too strong for that! It doesn't matter what was put into him at birth, what matters is now! And Zidane would never hurt Gaia! He was the one that saved it!"

"Ignorance." The Voice said calmly. "This is your only chance, and you must heed my words. I am not saying that the moment Zidane becomes King, he will wage war. But the power will awaken that lust for control within him. It will be down to himself, if he will be either a cruel tyrant or a wise, just King, but if he succumbs to the former, his death will better the people of Gaia."

"Wh-What are you saying?" Dagger burst into fresh tears, and flung herself onto her knees. She clutched at the body of the elderly Zidane, her tears falling upon his cold, lifeless skin. "I could never kill him!"

"Not even to save the world?" The Voice had a low, threatening rumble to it. Dagger shook her head strongly, not letting go of Zidane. "You would sacrifice the world if it meant Zidane stayed by you."

"I-I wouldn't have to." Dagger pleaded. "I would change him, make him see the light, remind him of all the good times he's had, how hard he tried to save Gaia from being ruled by a cruel tyrant."

"You say this as though he would still love and care for you." The Voice said plainly. The colour drained from Dagger's cheeks, and she looked down at Zidane's lifeless face.

"O-Of course he would!" Dagger protested. "He would always love me! Just like I would love him forever, no matter what he turned into!"

"Power changes people." The Voice said gravelly. "Look at your mother." Dagger fell very quiet, her hands shaking. "You are not heeding my warning, young Queen. This future may not happen. I am not sure of the future yet. I do not know what is Zidane's path, or yours. But I am warning you, Queen Garnet. I am reminding you that a time may come where Zidane will show a motion that is not kind, the cruel overpowering of a group of rebels or protestors, perhaps, of the nasty punishment of those who do not pay taxes, a tightening of laws. But if that moment comes where Zidane forces his power and control a little too forcefully on his people, you must put your love for him aside, and do the deed. For sure, after he did such a thing, it would be only a matter of time, before he stopped loving you."

By the time the voice had finished, Dagger had her arms around Zidane, deeply breathing in his scent. The front of his magnificent robes was damp with her tears, but they had now faded, and Dagger was hardened, and resolute.

"You don't know him!" She burst out savagely, still embracing this elderly image of Zidane tightly. "You have no idea what he's like! He would never hurt me or anyone!"

"I am all-seeing and all-knowing." The Voice said stoutly. "I know better than you the workings of Zidane's mind. I am not saying this will come to pass, it seems less likely every day, but you must still remember this. It is not often that I appear to people, Queen Garnet. This warning is grave. Watch your King carefully, or he may be the destroyer of Gaia, just as Garland intended."

With that, the clouds lowered, and began to swirl around her. Crying out, Dagger tried to clutch the man tightly, but he slipped through her fingers, like melting butter, and succumbed to the maelstrom of deep purple cloud.

Garnet's eyes snapped open without a cry.

Although a lump pushed at her throat, she forced it down, closing her eyes as she sat up, hugging herself tightly. She thought she could still smell Zidane, feel his soft hair through his fingers, his cold but strong and slender body clutched close to hers...

He's gone. Hopelessly, Garnet sank back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The dream still ran through her head, every word of the strange voice running through her head. It was just another dream...

"No."

Garnet sat bolt-upright in bed, heart hammering. "H-Hello?" She called out softly, not wanting to attract the guards just outside the door. "Wh-where are you?"

"It was no simple dream."

She stared from left to right, but all she could see was a bird on the windowsill. A bird? At this hour? She stared very hard at the small white bundle of feathers.

"Heed my warning."

It was the bird! She started, but before she could move another inch, the bird gave a light little chirp, and fluttered off into the night.

Whatever that Voice was, it can't be true. Garnet pushed her short hair behind her ears, and drew her knees up to her chest, staring at the wine-red sheets. I know Zidane! And he is a good person, the stoutest of heart I've ever met. He would not be consumed by power like that, not him.

Could he?

No. Garnet shook her head. And besides, the Voice said it may not even happen. That there were too many possibilities. She sighed deeply.

So he is alive then. Slowly, she stood up, and started to walk across the room, almost dreamlike in her step. When she reached the window, she stared out at the scene, which was graced with a strong, almost full, moon. The castle gardens, the river, the tiled roofs of the few houses that were actually built, the winding cobbled streets, and further out, the vast forests, cliffs, and meadows of the Mist Continent. He was out there, somewhere. Probably still on the Lost Continent. She shivered, for the night air was cold, but did not rush to grab a robe.

Perhaps I should send some troops to the Iifa tree. She swallowed. He may still be trapped there, somehow able to stay alive for so long. He cannot die! Not while there is still a chance! She bowed her head, letting out long breaths of air. Yes. Hardened with resolve, she straightened, and turned, grabbing her heavily quilted night robe from its hook on the wall. As she pushed open the bedroom door, the two guards started to attention.

"My Queen!" They said in sync, saluting.

"I am going to speak with Beatrix and Steiner." She said, putting on her most regal airs. "If anybody shall ask, say I was struck with a sudden hunger and went to the royal kitchens." The pair nodded, watching as she turned, and made her way silently along the royal corridor of the castle. Down one flight of stairs, up another, turn a corner, run down this hall, down another flight of stairs, and along another corridor, and she stood at the door that led to the shared apartments of Beatrix and Steiner.

"Hello?" She pushed open the door, but the sitting room was empty, a few embers smouldering in the fireplace. She rushed to the bedroom, and knocked impatiently on the door, not wanting to burst in on the sleeping pair. After a few moments of silence, she knocked again, this time harder, and a thump, followed by several muffled words met her ears. Finally, the door was pushed open, and a tired Steiner answered the door, in his nightclothes.

"Yes, what- My Queen!" He took a step back in surprise. "What is it that brings you here? What is wrong?"

"What's going on?" Beatrix finally joined the pair, eyes widening at the sight of Garnet. "Garnet, what's wrong?"

"I-I..." She licked her lips. "Zidane's alive." She said firmly. "He's alive, but he's dying. Somebody has to go and rescue him!" Steiner and Beatrix exchanged looks.

"My Queen, it's late." She said kindly. "Who told you this? What happened?"

"It was a dream." Garnet rushed over that. "Please, we must-"

"A dream, like the night before?" Beatrix had the tone of one talking to a small child, and it was maddening for Garnet. "They're all simply just tricks of the mind, they-"

"This one wasn't!" She would have stamped her foot if she was a very little bit younger. "This was no normal dream. I spoke with... I don't know who it was... But he said things... Things my mind couldn't make up. And then when I woke up, he appeared to me in a bird. How can that be false?"

"You've had a rough few days." Beatrix said softly, taking Garnets shoulders and starting to cross the room. "And not a good nights' sleep. You were probably still dreaming. Garnet, Perhaps if-"

"NO!" Garnet shouted, pulling herself free. "Listen to me, you two. This wasn't a dream! I dreamt that I was at Zidane's grave when he died as a King at forty-eight! It was a vision of the future! Or... What could be the future." She looked away, felling vaguely ill at the thought. "Please, you must listen to me..."

"How about we all sit down, and you start at the beginning." Steiner suggested, directing Garnet to the comfortable sitting-room chairs. "Maybe Beatrix and I will understand better if we hear the whole story."

"Well... All right." Garnet relented, although she was bursting to send some soldiers to the Iifa Tree. However, she retold the story as best as she could remember, which was almost exact, so vivid was her image. As she explained how Zidane was at risk of becoming a cruel ruler of Gaia, Something tightened in Beatrix's face, and Steiner's brow furrowed. By the time Garnet had finally finished her tale, she was nearly hoarse, and her hands trembled in her lap. Beatrix leaned back in her chair thoughtfully, and Steiner cautiously reached forward, patting Garnet's knee rather awkwardly.

"If it means aught, I can't see Zidane succumbing to such evil either." He said gently. Garnet looked up, her expression brightening.

"You mean you believe me?" She asked. "You don't think I'm addled with sleep, or mad?"

"That doesn't sound like a normal dream." Beatrix said thoughtfully. "And after everything we've seen, all those strange things, I'm willing to believe that Fate itself appeared to you in a dream, warning that Zidane has risk of eventually following the evils he was born to commit."

"S-Steiner?" She looked hopefully at her most trusted advisor. "Wh-What do you think?"

"I think it is a bit beyond me." He groaned. "But I also think Beatrix is right. It does seem very conceivable."

"Oh, you two!" Garnet jumped up, and hugged them both. "I hoped you would believe me!" The old fire inside her had returned. "Then we must send troops at once to scour the Iifa tree." She clasped her hands together. "They can aid Tantalus in their search, if they are still there." She added. "And then... Then we can finally rescue Zidane! I knew he was alive, I just knew it!" Beatrix and Steiner shot each other uneasy looks.

"I'll go and get a squadron sorted." Steiner stood up, then looked down at himself. "After I get dressed." He added, and returned to the bedroom, leaving Beatrix with Garnet.

"And you have to go to bed." She warned the girl. "All of this fragmented sleep is bad for you."

"I don't think I could sleep." She said truthfully. "I just... I'm too edgy to sleep. All I can think about is him..."

"All the same, you should try." Beatrix advised wisely. "Run along back to bed now, and try to squeeze in a couple of hours. I myself will get ready, all right?" Garnet eventually nodded, and left the apartment, leaving Beatrix to open the bedroom door, which she closed softly, and leaned again heavily.

"What do you honestly make of this?" Steiner looked over at Beatrix, half in his armour.

"Honestly? I think that really is a vision." Beatrix opened her own wardrobe, pulling out her favourite cream-coloured dress. "And that we should heed it."

"What part?" Steiner said lowly, fitting his breastplate. "The part where he may still be alive, or where he could be a cruel ruler."

"The latter." She said rather regretfully, changing out of her nightclothes. Steiner blushed, and looked away. "Oh, Adelbert, stop. Nothing you haven't seen before." She teased, making him blush.

"Yes, but..." He sighed. "I know he may be naught but a thief, and I was the harshest critic of him, but I never saw anyone with truer resolve. He's the genuine thing. And that is so hard to find now."

"I know." Beatrix sat on the edge of the large bed, staring at the floor. "And I applaud him for it. I do. But it just seems to freakishly conceivable..."

"I know." He muttered darkly, pulling on his shoes. "But Beatrix." He turned to regard the woman. "Two months ago, I would have given my life to make sure that rogue would never get the crown of Alexandria. Now I feel I'd give my life to make sure he achieves it."

"Aren't you nice." Beatrix smoothed out her clothes as she stood up, staring at her reflection in the mirror. "So, are you going to send some troops?" Steiner, who was about to leave the room, paused.

"Wh-what do you mean?" He frowned. "What on earth are you suggesting?"

"Nothing, I suppose." She looked down at the top of the bureau. "I'm just wondering where they would be better stationed."

"I know." Steiner said quietly. "And, to be honest, I have my complete faith in that band of thieves."

"Never thought I'd hear that." Beatrix said somewhat mildly.

"No, I mean it." Steiner said seriously. "Look at all the effort they went through to rescue that man who saved us in the Petrified Forest. Do you not think they would do the same for Zidane?"

"I think you finally grew a heart for the lower classes of Gaia." She smiled, setting down her brush, her hair neatly done. "But, I agree." She looked thoughtful. "I mean, the size of the Iifa tree... could you think of any Alexandrian soldiers who would plunge into its' depths?"

"No." Steiner shuddered in remembrance. "It's a truly hellish place. I wouldn't even go in there."

"Exactly." Beatrix swallowed. "If we went troops there, they wouldn't do a thing, no matter how much we commanded them."

"But we promised the Queen..." Steiner said slowly. "You can't..."

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." The General unbuckled her sword from around her waist, her mind made up. "We'll simply say we sent a group. She doesn't know exactly how many soldiers we have. She'd never know."

"We cannot deceive her like this!" Steiner shook her fist as Beatrix kicked off her shoes.

"It will be better, in the end." Beatrix said gently. "Or, we could simply say we sent a group who returned after a few days of inspection, saying that the Tree was just too perilous to enter. If it's at a risk of more life, then she will not force them."

"... True." Steiner finally agreed, his shoulders bowed. "All the same..."

"Look, I personally can't see how Zidane could even be alive." She was a dreadfully practical woman. "A month, without medical care, food and water? Not even he could survive that."

"You didn't know him as well, then." Steiner muttered. "Because I did, and I know that he would not succumb to this so easily."

"Oh, Adelbert, it's not easy." She stood behind him, her arms wrapped around her shoulders. "That is no small feat. To be trapped and badly injured for so long... No one could survive that. I know that keeping a facade for the Queen is vital, but personally..." She trailed off, her opinion clear.

"But he was so..." Steiner trailed off, and eventually relaxed into the hold the woman had on him.

"I know." She said softly. "Get some more sleep. We'll make a pretence that we have sent troops before down. Do not worry, she wouldn't suspect the latter."

"I cannot believe we have been reduced to blatant lies." Was all the man could morosely reply.

It was a few hours from dawn, when Blank, who had only just eased into a fitful doze, snapped his eyes open, immediately wide awake. Although the others had made a unholy din of snoring since a couple of hours after sunset, they were exhausted, while Blank, who had slept the day away, still felt very refreshed. Creeping out of the bed, careful not to disturb Ruby, who was snoring up a storm herself, Blank pulled on his gloves and shoes, slipping quietly out of the house, and into the outside world, which was bathed in the soft, silvery hue of moonlight.

It was really so beautiful, that it just took his breath away. Blank sighed as he stared at the rippling waves of water of the stream, throwing moonbeams about itself, the soft, dewy grass almost milk-white under the light, the gently rustling of the silver-coloured trees. After a moment's thought, he turned, and started to head towards the Inn. Doubtlessly, Zidane would be asleep, drugged up to his eyeballs, but with nothing else really to do, and daylight a long time coming, he made his way towards the squat building. As he pushed open the door, and then made his way into the bedroom, he blinked, surprised to find it filled with low, golden lamplight. What was even more confusing was the figure of Zidane, who was wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey." Blank blinked with surprise, and took a seat on the bed beside the badly injured blonde. "I thought you would be asleep."

"They tried to." Zidane's voice was startling clear, if a little weak. He shifted his gaze from the ceiling, to look at Blank. "I-I can't."

"Why not?" On an impulse, Blank grabbed Zidane's hand, squeezing the fingers tightly. Zidane gave a small, sad smile, although his lower lip trembled, and he gave a weak grasp back. "Zidane? What's up?"

"I-I'm... I'm paralyzed." The words almost refused to leave Zidane's mouth. He couldn't say anything more, but the heart-breaking anguish and pain reflected in his blue-green eyes spoke volumes.

"I know." Blank tried to keep his voice steady. "They realised a little bit before you woke up." Zidane swallowed, and closed his eyes."You all right?"

"No." Zidane weakly shook his head. "I-I... It's... just running through my head... Everything I-I'll miss out on."

"Maybe you shouldn't." Blank suggested. "Try to think on the positives. You're alive."

"Alive and crippled." Was Zidane's weak reply. "Wh-what's the point..."

"Zidane, don't say that." Blank swallowed. "It's a shock, I know but-"

"Of course it's a damn shock!" Zidane burst out, his voice shaking. "I-I'll never walk again, B-Blank. I-I... I c-can't..." He closed his eyes, very tightly, and gritted his teeth, but Blank saw the tears leaking from his eyes. He let out a long, shaking breath, trying so hard to regain his composure. "I-I..."

"It's okay to be upset about it." Blank said gently.

"B-But, being upset... H-how does it help? I-I... I just feel so lost..." Zidane gulped deeply, his lower lip trembling violently.

"And that's okay too." Blank was trying to console the blonde, but was actually doing a very bad job of it. "Hell if it were me, I'd-"

"Look, just shut up!" Zidane burst out savagely, and with a burst of strength he didn't know he had left in him, he sat up, and grabbed Blank by his shirt. "I don't care what you'd do! It's not you that's crippled, it's me! It's me and it's my entire fault, because I was so arrogant and proud. I had to be the hero one last stupid time!" His voice died in his throat, and Zidane panted with the strain. He was clinging to Blank at this point, rather than holding him, his half-starved frame shaking violently. Blank was so overcome with an immense sorrow and pity for one of his closest friends, that he simply wrapped his arms around Zidane's broken body, in a tight, brotherly embrace.

"It's okay." Blank murmured. In reality, it was far, so far from okay, but poor Zidane was so tired, so worn out and overcome with grief and self-loathing, half the bones in his near-emaciated body broken, that he collapsed into the comfort of Blanks' arms, dissolving into hopeless sobs on the red-headed mans shoulder. Blank only cradled him as one would hold a child, any rage and anger he had against Zidane dissipated - for, no matter how angry Blank was at Zidane, the blonde's hatred and fury towards himself was a hundred times worse. At that point, Blank realised that, for all the camaraderie and bravado, deep down, he was actually nothing more than a scared, fragile boy who was still crying out for the familial bonds he'd never had, with someone, anyone.

"B-But..." Zidane was able to control himself, if but for a few moments, to talk. "I-I couldn't leave him... I-I just couldn't... I had to try, he's my brother."

"No." Blank's voice was so low and irate; he winced, and checked himself. "No." He repeated in a softer tone. "He wasn't your brother." Blank still held Zidane, the blonde so frighteningly tiny that he felt as though he might slip away in his arms. "He might have been made just like you, but so what? Your real brothers are here. Me and Cinna and Marcus. We always have been, Zidane. We're all a family."

With that, Zidane broke down again, his nerves shot to pieces. Blank pushed back a few tears himself as he held Zidane, waiting patiently until his agonized sobs had died down, and all that was left was a harsh, shallow breathing. Slowly, Blank eased Zidane back into the bed, and straightened up the blankets, Zidane sniffing quite pathetically.

"I was angry with you." Blank admitted, taking Zidane's hand again, the Genome glad of the comfort. "I actually declared that I wasn't going to feel sorry for you in the least." He lowered his eyes in embarrassment, that he could ever feel so cold towards the man he had just declared his brother. Zidane squeezed his hand weakly.

"I-I don't want pity." Zidane mumbled, but despite the optimistic words, there was a dullness in his eyes, like a little light in there had been snuffed out. It was the heartbreaking, hopeless shadow of defeat. "I-I... I want..." He looked down at his useless legs in disgust, and let out a low moan, sinking into the pillows. He wanted the strength to scream and shout and break things, but instead, the turbulent emotions remained harboured in his chest, stewing in his own pain and self-loathing.

"It's not gonna be forever." Blank swallowed, his mouth dry. "I-I mean, they say that it might not be permanent..."

"Might." Was all Zidane could mumble, looking more depressed than Blank had ever seen him. This was a stark change from the barely-conscious, bleary man that had woken just a few hours before. The truth was; the shock of the news, that he was paralyzed, kept his mind active and racing. "Kids are out of the question." He mumbled after a few minutes of silence.

"A-Are they?" Blank squeaked. Zidane nodded weakly. "O-Oh, man..." For Zidane had always loved children, and confided to Blank that he was so excited to have his own children, a boy and a girl, a boy he could teach to fight and steal, and a girl he could spend hours and hours telling stories, legends of the land, fairy-tales, and escapades of his own colourful life to. "How?"

"Waist down, Blank." Zidane seemed to be having trouble talking. "Wh-What else is below the waist, other than the legs?"

"O-Oh." Blank swallowed, never thinking of that before. "Y-you mean..."

"Yeah, I'll never sleep with anyone, have kids, walk, go to the toilet by myself..." Zidane would have probably started crying again, if Blank didn't tighten his grip on the blonde's hand.

"It's going to be all right." Blank tried to console his close friend. "Look, you have us. We can give you all the help you need-"

"I don't want help!" Zidane cut over the red-headed man. "I-I want my back fixed! I want feeling back! I-I..."

"Zidane-"

"N-No!" Zidane wrenched his hand free of Blanks'. "I-I don't want any 'Zidane'. I-I don't want you sit there saying it's going to be all right. It's not."

"Zidane-"

"What did I just say?" Zidane's eyes flashed. "You know what, Blank? Go away! Just... Just get out of here! I don't want to see you or anyone!" The effort of yelling, as weak as it was, had sapped him of almost all his strength, but he managed to glare at Blank. "I mean it." He muttered through gritted teeth. "Go!"

"... All right." Blank didn't push the point. Zidane was getting himself worked up, and he didn't want the blonde to hurt himself. "I'll go. But Zidane, being angry at everything won't help."

"I have a right to be angry." Was all Zidane muttered in a low, savage reply. Without another word, Blank then turned, and closed the door, shutting it behind himself, leaning against the wood heavily, feeling sick with pity for his poor brother.

As soon as he was alone, Zidane buried his face in his pillow, trembling. He was cold with fury, but not towards Blank, but himself. He screamed, weakly, into the soft cushion of cloth and feathers, hands clenching at the pillow. He really wanted to throw it, but didn't have the strength. Instead, he rolled partly over onto his side, shuddering as his legs followed the motion of the rest of the body, rolling like dead weights. They no longer seemed to be a part of him. They were parasitic, useless things. Part of him, a large part, wanted to cut them off. Instead, Zidane bit down on the pillow, hot, angry tears forming in his eyes and slowly dampening the sheets. His good arm was beneath him, the bad, broken one folded on the sheet before him. He tried to keep it as still as possible, as every movement from the arm sent a fresh burst of pain blossoming up his arm. His broken collarbone also twinged with each movement, his ribs ached, his head throbbed, and he couldn't feel anything below his waist.

And yet, despite all of this injury, not for a fleeting moment, did Zidane ever feel sorry for himself.

Awwwh. Cue sad angst and melodrama for all.

R&R? And both, two please, I mean I put a lot of effort into this, so I'm sure you can take a couple of second just to say you likes it (or didn't)