Guardian

She cried when she saw me walking up the pier.

I saw her before she saw me. She looked like an old flower, neglected to the point that she was withering of her own accord. Against the sizzling colours of the sunset, she was insubstantial and pale.

The boy, Tidus, was holding on to her skirt, and was shifting from foot to foot. He tugged on her skirt, and she looked away from the blazing skyline and saw me.

I probably looked hideous. My face was obscured by a ragged scar, and my clothes were ripped and dirty. I could feel the tickling trickle of blood flowing underneath my armour, but ignored it as best I could.

I don't know how, but without a word, she reached a conclusion. Her hands shook, and she slowly sank to her knees.

I saw a bird fall from a nest once, when I was young. It just lost all its energy, said the man in charge of the temple. Lovebirds die when they lose their mates.

Tidus tried to comfort her, but she pushed him away, hiding her face.

A lump formed in my throat as I saw her bony hand push her son away. It was such a selfish gesture.

I stepped forward, and Tidus glared at me, his bright blue eyes shining. His stare was accusatory, trying to be fierce, but there was turmoil behind it. Like his father. So like his father.

"Who are you?" Tidus demanded, standing defensively in front of his mother. "What do you want?"

"My name is Auron." I stopped, my heart pounding. Jecht didn't tell me it would be like this. "I was sent here…"

"By my husband?" She stood up, her voice whispering out of her mouth like a quavery flute. "Jecht sent you, didn't he?"

"He… did." My own voice was small.

"He's dead," she whispered. "He's dead."

"I… I don't know," I replied. "He said to come find you."

She stood up, her head still hung low.

Tidus frowned, and turned around. "Mommy, don't listen. This guy doesn't even know stupid old dad."

He grabbed her hand, and she wrenched it out of his grasp. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked resolutely to the end of the pier. Eight steps. She paused a moment, and then hopped off.

"Mommy!" Tidus ran to the end of the pier, and looked down. I assumed she was swimming away, but his panic suggested otherwise. "Mommy, what are you doing? You're not even trying!"

I hurried to the end of the dock, wincing at every step. The water was lapping fiercely against the pier, and a foam of bubbles was all the evidence that she had jumped.

"You made her jump!" Tidus kicked my shin, and tugged at my robe, little fists frantic.

I looked from him to the water, and, after dropping my sword on the deck, I jumped in after her. The water slapped me full across the face, and I sunk like a stone. I could see her watery form coalescing in a swath of bubbles and flowing fabric. I swam to her, and grabbed her around the waist, kicking hard off the bottom and swimming upward with her in tow. Jecht would have done this with much more grace and efficiency. She was a dead weight, and seemed to subconsciously want to drown me. I choked, and swam one handed to the pier where Tidus seemed to have alerted someone to the problem. More capable hands took her from me, and it was all I could do to cling to the pier. I could feel the wounds on my body opening under the bandages, the water was red all around me. Was it my robe… the sunset…?

o-o-o-o-o-o

He doesn't even know he's dead.

He is though, or he wouldn't be here.

Is that right? His mind seems to think he's still alive.

Of course it does. He wouldn't be bleeding if it didn't.

o-o-o-o-o-o

I coughed, and sat up, my head spinning. I feel like I drank my entire bottle in one go. My mouth felt like it had cotton stuffed in it. A rhythmic swaying of the room made me feel nauseous. What happened-?

New bandages covered my body, and I was sitting in a dark room. There was light from down a hallway, and a murmuring of voices.

"You're lying!" Tidus' voice, followed by a chorus of 'shh'.

"No!" He cried again, and I could hear his feet stamping against the floor boards. His steps got louder, and he ran into the room. He saw me, and his face twisted into a furious expression. "Why did you have to come here, huh?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean-"

"It doesn't matter!" Tidus spat. "I don't need you! We don't need you! Get out!"

I nodded, and stood up. My armour was on the table next to the sofa I had been lying on, and I gathered it and my bottle, which was still full. Good. I was going to need that. My sword was leaning against the wall by what I assumed was the front door.

A wave of dizziness spun my steps, and I stumbled, putting my hand out to catch my balance against the sofa. I misjudged the distance, and crashed head first into the nearby stair. I cursed, damning the loss of my eye. Some warrior.

"Tidus!" A voice hissed. "What are you doing? This man needs rest!"

"I'm going," I said. "He asked me to go." I pushed myself up, still feeling incredibly dizzy. I was fairly certain there was a stair-shaped indent in my forehead now.

"Don't be ridiculous!" The new person, an older woman said. Her voice was like a twig snapping. She approached me, and lifted me up with surprising strength. "Get back on that sofa, young man, or you'll have a worse time of it than you already do."

She pushed me down on the sofa, and I finally got a look at her face. Like an old apple, but still ripe in the cheeks.

"Gemma, he's weird, and I don't want him here!" Tidus stood beside her, his hands balled into fists.

"Tidus, that is enough out of you. This man just saved your mother." She cleared the hair from my face, and readjusted what felt like sticky paper against my forehead. "You could do with being a bit more grateful."

"But he-!" Tidus cut himself off. He turned to me, and looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on my scarred eye. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "It's fine. I'm… sorry too."

Gemma pursed her lips, and uncorked a bottle with a pop. "Drink this, and don't you try to stand up again until at least the morning."

I took the bottle with a trembling hand. Trembling. I'm pathetic. I downed the bottle, and handed it back to her.

"Lay down," she ordered, and I obliged. With a fluid movement, she draped a heavy woollen blanket over me, and tucked it in on the sides.

She sat in the chair beside the window, and took out a pipe. Tidus hesitantly sat at my feet, squished between the arm of the sofa and me.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"My name is Auron."

"And you are from?"

I paused, wondering what I should say. "Bevelle."

A puff of smoke clouded around her, and then whisked out the window. "And you met Jecht there?"

I felt Tidus stiffen, and he crossed his arms.

"Yes, we were… comrades."

"He's dead?"

"I don't know."

"He sent you here? You don't seem in good condition. If you made it here, and he didn't, he must have been worse off than you, and you've got a foot in the grave."

I didn't know what that meant, but I took it to be a bad thing. "He told me to look after his son."

"Are you going to?" Gemma asked, looking at me appraisingly. I tried to return her stare, but my eyelid drooped.

"To the best of my abilities. I'll guard him with my life."

"You hear that, Tidus?" Gemma tapped her pipe in the nearby ashtray. "You've got a guardian."

Guardian… the word thrummed in my mind. I could see them, silhouettes standing before the pearlescent light of Sin.

A shrieking roar, and Jecht was different, thrashing black and red against the swirling forms around him.

And Braska… he smiled at me. He was pure, shining brightly as he commanded Jecht. Our friend… His Final Aeon.

"Take care of my son."

"Thank you, Auron."

"My son, in Zanarkand. He's such a crybaby."

"Thank you for being here with me in the end."

"He needs someone there to hold his hand, see?"

"It's… it's over. I brought the Calm, didn't I?"

"Take care of him, will you?"

"Thank you for being my guardian."

I didn't realise my hands were clutching my face until someone pulled them away. My fingernails raked against my skin, and something wet was on my palms. A low cry held long in my chest croaked out of my throat, and I felt tears burning in my eye. "No… I can't do it… But I have to protect…" I failed them, my friends, and I'm still here and I can't help them and I failed. No. I'll keep him safe. The promise seared through me, and I cried out. "I promise, Jecht!"

"-that bottle, yes, thank you, Tidus."

Glass touched my lips, and I parted them, eager for anything that might end the feeling strangling me. I swallowed thickly, grabbing at whatever was holding my hands down. Small hands. I relaxed, and they squeezed tightly.

I'm not a guardian.

I'm too weak.

o-o-o-o-o-o

He doesn't belong here.

He's seen too much sadness. These people won't understand.

I don't think we can make him leave.

You're right.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Morning eased into the room in a haze of dusty sunlight. I opened my eye and closed it again, mentally adjusting to the brightness. The rocking of the room was gentler than last night, though not particularly comfortable for me. I felt almost unbearably warm, the soft breeze that washed over my face was refreshing.

My body was heavy, I couldn't move the weight of the blanket. I looked down, and realised why the blanket felt so heavy.

Tidus was sleeping on me, draped over my legs with his head on my chest. The sofa was certainly large enough to accommodate both of us, so he didn't look uncomfortable at least.

I retraced my thoughts, remembering the night before. I was saying things, rambling. Something sent me back to Spira in my memories.

Small hands anchored me.

Someone walked by, behind the sofa, taking great care to not make too much noise. Based on the gait, I guessed it to be Gemma.

"It's not long now…" Her voice was low, and the deep rumble of an old man's voice answered.

"She seems relieved. We went over the will. She said it'll all go to the boy. And that he's supposed to be his guardian. Something about how it was her husband's wish." The old man sounded sceptical.

"I suppose it must have been," Gemma said. "There's… something wrong with him. I feel almost certain Jecht is dead."

"His clothing… that sword. I've never seen anything like that around here. That's something you might see in a museum."

I coughed, unable to hold it back any longer. I heard both of them suppress a gasp, and Gemma padded over to the sofa, placing the back of her hand on my forehead.

"Still burning up, hm? I think you need some food," she said, and gently shook Tidus' shoulder. "Good morning, you. What do you want to eat?"

"O'meal," he mumbled, burying his face in my chest.

"Well it's good he took such a shine to you," Gemma said, busying herself in the kitchen. "He's emotional, that one."

"No, I'm not!" Tidus sat up, pushing painfully on my ribs. I must have visibly winced, because he scrambled off me, blushing. "S-sorry!"

"It's fine," I said. I sat up too, easing backwards, and leaned against the back of the sofa. "I'm sorry to be such a burden."

"We were already well-equipped to deal with something like this," Gemma said. I decided I liked her matter-of-fact tone. She reminded me of my teacher.

Breakfast was a largely silent affair; the old man, whose name was Abel, kept giving me suspicious looks. Anything he might have said was quickly intercepted by a warning glance from his wife.

Afterwards, they accompanied me upstairs, to the top of the houseboat for some fresh air. It was a peaceful day, with the odd seagull dipping down into the bay and people fishing off the pier. I was reminded of Besaid, until I looked behind me and saw the monolithic cityscape. My red robe was hanging on a laundry line, along with my pants and belt. Looking around briefly to make sure I wouldn't be scolded for moving around too much, I stood, and plucked my robe from the line, sliding it over the thin shirt I had been given. Instantly, I felt more comfortable, and sat back down, combing my fingers through my hair.

After a few minutes, I decided to find my belongings, particularly my comb. As I descended the stairs, Tidus tore past me, with tears in his eyes. He huffed over to the side of the boat, and sat, with his back to me.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's Mom," he said.

"Is she all right?"

He pounded his little fist on the deck, hostile once more. "Why should you care?"

"If she dies, I wouldn't know what to do."

This was the wrong thing to say. Young death was an anomaly in Zanarkand. It was a peaceful life, with a peaceful end at a ripe age. In Spira, death was something that was ordinary, accepted as much as the sun and the sea.

"Don't say Mom is gonna die!" he cried, getting to his feet.

"I apologize," I said, but he was already leaving. I stood in the stairwell for a time, looking over the deck to the bustle of life beyond this houseboat.

I returned to the living room where my little area had been established, and found my comb after a moment of searching. After a few minutes of clumsily combing my too-far-gone hair, Gemma entered the room with a large pitcher and a defeated look. She clicked her tongue when she saw me, and shook her head.

"I can't do anything for someone who won't even try," she said. "Your arrival killed her hope."

I swallowed, and put my hands in my lap. "That was not my intention."

"I know. I'm just frustrated." Gemma took the comb, and began straightening out the matted mess of my hair. "She asked if you would take care of Tidus after… well. You know. Abel and I have been looking after them for the past month or so. Making sure he goes to school on time and such. But he needs someone at home."

"I see."

"You're going to try, aren't you? To be a good guardian?"

That word… I wish she'd stop saying it. I blinked quickly, trying to ignore the images that flashed in my mind's eye. If I had just been stronger… I could have done something.

"Auron, please! Just run away!"

"I can't leave you, not now!"

Rocks blasted upwards as the thing that was Jecht thrashed against Sin, throwing his sword and hacking into it. Braska lost his footing, and I grabbed his arm, hoisting him out of the newly-formed hole.

Sin screeched, and a blade of Sinspawn slashed in front of me. Braska leapt in front of it, pushing me aside. The Sinspawn cut through his robe, and blood splashed backwards, a few drops stinging my right eye. "Please, Auron. Please, run away from here!" His voice was frantic, and his eyes were too blue.

"My lord, I can't! I'm your guardian!"

Someone was pulling me away from him, stop it, stop! I have to go to him! I was being dragged away, but kept reaching for him. I can't let him go by himself.

He smiled and turned away.

"Please, get a hold of yourself," Gemma's voice. Right. It's over.

I shook my head, and took a deep breath.

"That's right, let go," she said. I looked up, and felt my hands on my face again. It felt like my fingertips left bruises. I relaxed, and she guided my hands down. "It's all right. You're safe here."

I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. They shouldn't be doing that. Drops landed on them. My vision blurred. I remembered.

Gemma moved away from me for a moment, and then I felt a soft cloth on my face. "Something terrible happened," she said.

I nodded.

"You were supposed to protect someone."

I nodded again.

"But you couldn't," she said, catching my tears with the soft cloth.

I tried to reply with dignity, but the 'I couldn't' that left my lips was pathetic and cracked.

"But you made it here, didn't you? You're going to protect the boy?"

"Yes."

"Good," she patted my cheek with her wrinkled hand, and stood up. "Then I'll protect you. I'll avoid that word."

"Thank you…"

"You're welcome. Now hang on, I have to redress that wound on your face. You're going to have quite a scar if you keep tearing it back open like that."

I sat still, closing my eyes, and letting the sound of the ocean and the birds soothe me. Maybe this is where Jecht sat when he wanted a quiet moment. Perhaps just like this.

Gemma made short work of the redressing, and then picked up the comb as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

I can't keep slipping away like that. I have to keep it together. I keep failing, Jecht, I'm sorry.

"Beautiful hair you have," she said, interrupting my thoughts. "Black as night. Too bad about all the grey, hm? You wear it well, though. Kind of a silver fox. Not like Abel, he didn't even get that stage. It all fell out when he turned 50." She laughed to herself. "But don't mention it, he's pretty sensitive. He used to be handsome like you."

I remained silent, but she seemed unbothered.

"You were some kind of historian, I take it? Why else would you have the sword and the odd clothes, hm?"

I wondered if she was giving me an out, some way to explain my oddities. "Yes… I did a lot of travelling before I arrived here. I met Jecht on my travels, and he sent me here."

"That's right," she said approvingly, combing from my scalp to the ends of my hair. "There. Back in order, though a bit greasy, sweetheart. I'll tie it back."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

A few hours passed before Tidus returned, with a scraped knee and dirt on his clothes. Gemma was already preparing dinner, and tutted at his appearance. "I might as well start a hospital, huh?" She pointed at me. "You there, sweetie, there's some antiseptic and bandages in that case. Fix him up, will you?"

I obliged, putting my book down. Tidus shuffled over to me, and sat down. His face was grubby, and it looked like he'd been crying. I said nothing, except to ask him what antiseptic was.

He showed me the little bottle of clear liquid. "It's to make cuts better, but it hurts."

"I see. Do you drink it?" I asked, squinting at the label.

"No. Are you dumb?"

"I've never seen this before."

"You're weird."

"I know."

"You put it on the cut or whatever."

"I see." I poured some on a piece of gauze and dabbed his scraped knee. He hissed, but remained still. I could see Gemma watching us closely. She was probably passing some kind of judgment on me. Favourable, I hope, if I'm going to keep this promise.

He put the sticky bandage on himself, and then scurried off somewhere.

"Make sure you wash your hands!" Gemma called after him.

There was a silence, and I picked up my book again, back to the chapter about famous Zanarkand monuments.

"He trusts you already," Gemma said. "He seems prickly, but he's fairly naïve, that one. He's guarded around most people, so it's nice to see."

"I want to be someone he can trust. I made a promise."

"You seem like the type to keep a promise."

"I hope to be."

Abel was absent for dinner, and Gemma left shortly afterwards, stating something about having to make arrangements with a man about Tidus' mother. No one had spoken her name in front of me. Jecht rarely did, and whenever he did, he'd smile slightly with the shape of her name.

My bones ached, and I lay down on the sofa with the Zanarkand history book. Gemma had put some water and a bottle that she said had a potion for dreamless sleep, in case I had a nightmare or something. She also mentioned not to use it if I didn't need it, since it was quite expensive.

That explains the blurry sleep of last night, at least.

Late in the evening, I became aware of Tidus in the doorway, watching me. I waited for him to do something, pretending I hadn't noticed his presence.

He floundered for a moment, and then stepped into the room. "My room is cold," he announced.

"Did you need a blanket?" I looked around, the only available one was across my knees. "Here." I offered it, but he didn't move to take it.

"Can I… sleep where I slept last night?"

I blinked, and then nodded, adjusting myself to make more room.

He stepped over me, and then settled in, resting his head against my chest. "Auron."

"Yes?"

"I was making sure I knew it. How do you spell it?"

I spelled it out for him, and he nodded.

"Easy, five letters, just like mine. You have more vowels than me, though."

"Yes."

He began fiddling with the metal ring on the front of my robe, flipping it back and forth between his small fingers.

"Auron, can I ask you a question?"

"I won't lie to you."

"Is my dad dead?"

"…I don't know."

He didn't reply, and I couldn't think of anything else to say.

We fell asleep.