The Other Chosen
by Your Undoing
Plot Summary: Something is happening to Zelos, and he can't bear to tell them.

Author's Note: SPOILERS. Obviously. If you haven't finished the game… seriously, I don't know what the hell you're doing reading this stuff. Anyway, if you choose to fight Zelos at the Tower Of Salvation, he reveals that he has wings. That means he must have undergone the transformation into an angel at some point along the journey. So here's a oneshot that I just had to get out regarding that interesting little tidbit. Don't think about it too hard, it's just sort of fluff.

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It had been two weeks now since Zelos had stopped denying it.

For a while he had been able to pass it off as sickness—he was under the weather, he just wasn't hungry… the strain was finally getting to him, of course he wouldn't be able to sleep… he had always been a restless sleeper anyway…

But now he couldn't feel.

He hadn't been releasing any seals. So why was he transforming? This wasn't supposed to happen. This couldn't happen. He really, really, really didn't want this to happen…

But it was happening.

"Why the long face?"

Zelos jerked his head up, the steaming cocoa in his mug sloshing over his fingers with a splash. He looked down at his damp gloves and wondered if his hands were blistering underneath from the boiling water. He couldn't feel a thing.

"Ow," he said dully.

"Ugh. Zelos, really…" Sheena grumbled, tossing him a napkin.

He wasn't quite sure why he didn't tell them. He supposed it was because he had led his whole life this way—covering up his pain with an obnoxious façade. Why get serious now? It would cause problems—once one secret was out, the rest would soon follow… and he refused to go there. Besides, didn't everyone have enough on their minds without the problems of the Idiot Chosen?

"Hello?"

He stared blankly back at Sheena, who was now waving a hand at him from across the campfire.

"Hi," he said slowly. She narrowed her eyes at him.

Come on now Zelos. Snap out of it. Snap out of it or she'll suspect something.

"Though I'm flattered by your attention Sheena, the staring thing is getting a little creepy," he said, his lips curling up in a sly grin. He felt sick at how quickly these remarks came to him nowadays. His mask had slowly become his true self.

Sheena blushed and looked away. Her eyes strayed over the lumpy forms of the others, all dreaming peacefully in their sleeping bags scattered about the campsite.

"Why aren't you sleeping, anyway?" she asked after a moment. "You love sleeping. And it must be midnight by now."

Because I can't. "'Cause I'd much rather spend time with you, gorgeous!"

She rolled her eyes.

I make myself sick.

He had enough to feel terrible about without slowly losing his humanity. Why was this happening to him? He supposed the angels had power over when the Chosen's transformation took place. Technically, they could bestow their 'powers' whenever they liked… it just made more sense to do it at each seal. So why was this happening now? Why was it so important for him to become an angel that they threw tradition into the wind and just activated some sort of switch inside him? Was this--

"Seriously, what is wrong with you today?"

Sheena was staring at him again. Clearly, she had said something; and it had gone through one of his ears and out the other.

"I—uh," he stammered. "I was so captivated by your beauty that I didn't notice you were saying anything! Hah hah!"

She wasn't buying it.

"Are you… alright?" she asked slowly.

No. "Yes," he said stiffly. "But now I'm going to sleep."

Wordlessly, he rose and walked over to his sleeping bag. He could feel Sheena's eyes on his back, but he didn't turn around. For once, he was too tired to play the stupid, stupid role he had cast himself in long ago. Idiotic, vulgar, spoiled, egotistical and disgusting. He couldn't do it for another second.

He laid down slowly, careful not to look back at the campfire—where he was sure that Sheena was still watching him. With a reluctant sigh, he closed his eyes.

Please. Please, let me fall asleep. Let this all just be a mistake.

Ever since he had stopped sleeping, Zelos had started doing a lot of thinking. What else was there to do? It had gotten to the point where whenever he closed his eyes, he saw his own personal flaws lain out before him like some sort of twisted slideshow. And there was no way to escape it. No 'off' button. No getaway to the oblivious world of dreams. He was stuck with himself, and all he had done, for as long as it took for the angel transformation to be complete. Then, he supposed he would die. The shame would disappear. Along with the lies. The stupid, screwed up world he had half created, half been born into would be gone.

He wasn't sure if there was a single moment in his life that he could be proud of.

It was hard to remember the last time he had cried. Now, more than ever, he wished he could.

Damnit, he wished he could.