Far Reach
by
Lavande
1. Tame This Mind
So when will this end, it goes on and on,
over and over and over again.
- Sick Cycle Carousel, by Lifehouse -
"We're all one ship," Gippal muttered under his breath as he made his way to his rooms at the New Yevon Headquarters in Bevelle. Well, now they were the headquarters of the Spira Union, as Youth League and the former Order of New Yevon so pompously had decided to call themselves. Oh, and the Machine Faction, kind of. Not that they had asked him or something.
"Let's start a new journey," he went on, his tone mocking, bitter. Established personnel cleared his way as he stomped down the long marble corridors, their startled gazes following him. None of them had ever seen 'that crazy young Al Bhed' with anything but a lazy smile on his face, so the well and truly pissed off man rushing past them was something of a surprise. Damned if he cared.
He had reached his quarters, and really not too soon, either. Shaking with anger, he stared at his hands. "A new course, for all of Spira, together," he spat, and drew in a deep breath. "Together… well, fuck!"
With a violent kick, the door to his rooms flew open, banging against the wall. He stormed inside, slamming it shut, at the same time knocking a slender vase from its position on a delicate side table. It shattered on the cool white marble floor into hundreds of satisfyingly tiny pieces, glittering bluish in the light of the sun that streamed in through the large panorama windows. The young man booted the side table for good measure, watching in grim approval as it tumbled across the room. Feeling a little better, Gippal took another deep breath, and let out a sigh. Anger faded, leaving room for disappointment as he dropped heavily onto the beautiful, if a bit uncomfortable, sofa that was the centrepiece of his living room.
They hadn't even asked him. Youth League and New Yevon had already decided on a political course for Spira, distributing the positions of power amongst their ranks.
And they hadn't even asked him. Not once. Not carefree, charming Gippal with his one eye and his chaotic ways. Leader of the Al Bhed Machine Faction, by the way, and leader of the Al Bhed, once Cid decides to step down, thank you soo very much.
Everyone knew he was the designated heir of Cid's 'throne', that he would take over once the old man decided to retire. Everyone who knew anything about the Al Bhed, that is. But, funnily, nobody seemed to care about the Al Bhed. Oh, they could fly along on that great ship that was Spira's future. Just not in any position that counted, and he really had thought his friends knew better than that.
It stung.
Engineer. That was the place he had chosen for himself all those years ago, when the days were full of death and desperation, but somehow more innocent. And it seemed that 'engineer' was all he was expected to be. All his whole people was expected to be.
Just keep 'em up and running, boys, and we'll give you a warm handshake for your efforts. Well, let's see how you manage to run your Spira Union when there's no one around fixing your machina.
But that wasn't fair. They were trying to rebuild a world, and here he was, pouting like a little kid. So what if they couldn't see past their friend's antics to see the capable leader who had built the Machine Faction from scratch, and against Cid's will – at least in the early days, before he had proven himself. So what if he had to fight just that little bit harder, as always, to get his people the credit they deserved?
So what if a certain ex-praetor seemed too taken in by the 'pilot' of their little ship to notice the engineer standing in the wings?
Because that was the real problem, wasn't it? Might as well be a man and admit it.
Gippal propped his elbows up on his knees and buried his face in his hands. Nooj he could handle, the man had never taken him seriously anyway. But Baralai… Baralai had been his best friend, back in the days of the Crimson Squad, and he'd honestly thought that would never change. More than that - now that he was being honest with himself, he might as well be completely so. There had been a time when he'd hoped they could be more than that. More than friends. More than… more than this. It had certainly seemed so after Vegnagun had been defeated and Shuyin driven from the body that wasn't his. Baralai had looked around in confusion, spotted him, and smiled, and Gippal's heart had skipped a beat or two. And in the days following the infamous 'We are a ship' speech back in Luca, there had been an easy companionship between the two of them that had him almost sure that there was something going on, even if he had shied from giving a name to the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him whenever his gentle, dark-skinned friend was near.
But now Paine was back, good old Doctor P, and suddenly Baralai had only eyes for her, completely ignoring a first bewildered, then hurt, Gippal. Evenings that had been filled with friendly banter, with catching up on those last two years, instead were reserved for hanging out with the serious young woman, with 'showing her the home town' and other stuff that apparently hadn't been worthwhile when it was him the time would have been spent with.
That stung, too.
Sure, the withdrawn Paine made a much better partner for the equally closed-off ex-praetor than a hyperactive Al Bhed, but hey, opposites attract, right?
Right?
Damn…
Well, another day, another failure. Story of his life.
Gippal sighed as he let himself fall unceremoniously onto his bed, bouncing on the thick mattress. Well, not a complete failure. While Baralai hadn't so much as looked at him outside of the conference room, at least he had managed to convince Nooj that a representation of the Al Bhed in their new government was not only desirable, but necessary. Together they had established a ministry of science and research, to be built up and headed by Nhadala, his right hand in Bikanel. Then there had been the issue of paying the Al Bhed for machina maintenance. Much as they wanted to help the other people of Spira rebuild their homes, they really weren't a bunch of do-gooders. So from now on, service would be requested, rendered, and paid for.
Amazingly enough, that last part had actually been Nooj's idea. In his little temper tantrum yesterday, he had obviously done the man injustice, and he was sorry for that. Come to think of it, while it was true that Nooj didn't really view him as an equal, neither had 'The Undying' ever underestimated him. He had forgotten that. And they had been friends back then, he knew. Not very good friends, never the best, but friends nevertheless. He had forgotten that, too. Well, kinda funny, if you thought about it. Supported by a guy he had thought didn't even really like him while being abandoned by one he had taken to be his pal, his buddy, his chum. He knew he was wallowing in self-pity now, and it took some effort to snap out of it. Think of the good part. You got the Al Bhed a piece of the future today.
Staring at the ceiling, Gippal didn't find the slightest trace of satisfaction inside himself. Or accomplishment. Or anger at the fact that Baralai had not even joined the discussion, instead just raising his hand in agreement when Paine had done so. He was getting so tired of this, of trying to get attention, of trying to be worth the loyalty and companionship of someone who didn't care, probably never had. Tired of being the one on the outside. Tired of being so damn lovesick.
Just… tired.
Maybe it was time to go home.