A/N: Another follow-up to "One More Confessional". Relates to "My Last Confession". Set about five years after the end of the game. One-shot.
Painkiller
A knock on the door of her quarters interrupted Paine's dinner. She had been half-reading as she ate, but mostly she'd been admiring the view of New Home through her windows -- the city at sunset was a beautiful sight, shimmering with heat escaping the desert sands, lights winking on in buildings and along the moving walkways.
The knock came again, more insistent this time. "Zicd y minute," she called out as she put down her fork and rose from the table. She opened the door and saw Gippal standing there, holding his hands behind his back.
"Hey Paine," he said. "Sorry if I'm interrupting anything; can I come in?"
"Of course," she replied, pulling the door wider. "Have you eaten?"
He shook his head. "No, but that's okay. I'm not hungry." Paine shut the door behind her old friend as he entered her rooms.
"Something to drink, then?" She took a step toward the small kitchen.
"No thanks." Her guest stood quietly in the center of the room, a lost look in his single eye as Paine noticed two things simultaneously -- a stiffness in Gippal's manner that was rather out of character for him, and that they were both speaking Spiran rather than Al Bhed. She hadn't spoken Spiran in so long that she'd almost forgotten what it sounded like.
"What's wrong?"
He glanced at the ceiling. "I have news."
"Bad news?"
"Yeah." He took a deep breath, then leveled his gaze to meet Paine's eyes. "There's no easy way to do this so I'll just say it. Nooj is dead."
"Oh." And total silence fell as Paine swallowed hard, the lack of sound a dull roar rising in her ears. She stood stock still, the world a blur before her eyes, the heart beating in her chest the only sensation left. Then she shook her head a little and the room fell back into focus. She looked at Gippal, who was still staring straight at her, concern written on his face. "How?" she asked.
"There was a vicious pack of bandits ambushing travelers on the Moonflow road," he said. "Nooj led a small group to take them out. They succeeded, but Nooj was shot and killed. He was the only one of his party even injured; really unlucky."
Paine crossed her arms and looked at the floor, then glanced back at Gippal. "Or really lucky. Maybe."
He was silent and still at that. "Yeah," he said after the moment passed. "Maybe." Then he took a step toward Paine, close enough to touch her but without reaching out. "Are you okay?"
She considered the question for some time. Nooj had been out of her life for four years; the relationship wasn't working, hadn't been working for months, and so she'd walked away. It had been the hardest, most painful decision she'd ever made, but it had also been the right one. But how did she feel about knowing that he was gone for good?
She decided on an answer. "Not really," she said. Then she took Gippal's hand, gripping it. "But I will be."
Gippal sighed and squeezed back, his posture relaxing. "I'm sorry. I'm so vilgehk sorry. For all of it, but especially for not seeing the signs until it was too late."
Paine shook her head. "It was too late the day he set foot in that cave seven years ago. There was nothing you could have done, nothing any of us could have done."
"Maybe not. But I've been the closest thing he's had to a friend for so long. I should've known he was trying again, kept a closer eye on him. And I've found myself wondering lately: That cloud of pyreflies came at me first, remember? But I ducked, and it got Nooj. What if I had protected him instead of getting out of the way? Maybe if Shuyin hadn't taken him from you, you could have saved him, brought him back into life. It was happening, Paine. For a little while there, he wasn't Taydrcaagan anymore. If you'd had more time..."
Paine grabbed his other hand and pulled him to face her directly, glaring straight into his good eye. "Tyshed, Gippal, don't you dare blame yourself! Yes, it was bad luck that Shuyin took Nooj just then. And that's all it was. You saw a threat and protected yourself. That's what people do. You couldn't have known what the long-term consequences would be. Don't let his fantasies about sacrifice and honor convince you otherwise."
He shook his head and dropped his gaze. "Even if you're right, that doesn't make this any easier."
"No," she agreed quietly. The friends stood together in silence, holding hands to share their grief and their strength, both heads bowed, as if in prayer their world's long-overthrown god, a god that neither had believed in.
Finally, they both lifted their faces, eyes meeting again. "There's going to be an assembly in his honor in Luca in a few days," he said. "Want to come?"
"No," she replied immediately. "Thank you, but no. So you're going?"
"Yeah. Lai has to be there, it would be bad form for him to skip it. He shouldn't have to go alone."
"It's good of you to be there for him. So how is he taking it?"
Gippal shrugged. "It can be hard to tell with him always playing the politician. But he let the mask slip some when we got the news, so I think he's pretty upset -- he never quite let go of the hope that they'd reconcile someday. Now that'll never happen, and he seems more than a little lost. I'm actually going back to Bevelle tonight."
Paine managed a smile. "So the two of you are making another go of it?"
"Sure looks like it. Hope springs eternal, right?" He let out a small laugh. There was an edge of bitterness to it. "Life would sure be easier if I could keep away from him. But I can't. There's always that slim chance it won't be a disaster this time."
"Maybe this is the right time. Maybe you need each other right now." She squeezed his hands again. "Share your pain with him, Gippal."
"I do." He glanced back to the floor. "Like Nooj should have shared his with you."
It was Paine's turn to shrug. "He tried, but he couldn't. You know that." She dropped Gippal's hands and moved to look out the window, lost in the darkening sky and memories of Nooj. It took a minute for her to register that Gippal had come up behind her, wrapping arms around her waist to pull her into a hug.
"You sure you'll be okay?" he asked.
Paine was unable to speak through the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat, but she nodded.
He planted a brotherly kiss on the back of her head. "E muja oui."
She laid her arms over his and tightened the hug. "Dryhgc."
-x-
Night had nearly fallen by the time Gippal left. He stayed long enough for a couple of drinks, and he and Paine toasted Nooj's life and death as well as the three remaining members of the Crimson Squad. Then he had to go, back to Bevelle and the waiting Baralai.
Paine took the remainder of the bottle up to the roof of her building. Her quarters were housed in one of the tallest structures in New Home, so she could see most of the city laid out before her. Tonight she faced west, the very last streaks of daylight fading as the stars came out, the distant twinkles in the sky mirrored by the machina stars of the streets and apartment windows.
Years had passed before Paine could really enjoy a sunset again, before she could watch the sun sink beyond the horizon while the sky caught fire without thinking of the Mi'ihen Highroad. She took a healthy gulp of alcohol as she settled on the roof ledge, then set the bottle down at her feet.
"Druikrd E sekrd veht oui ib rana." (Thought I might find you up here.) The words came from behind her, and Paine turned her head to see Buddy coming through the door to the fire stair.
"Hey."
Her friend and sometime-lover -- they were in an off phase right now, but their friendship stayed constant whether or not they shared a bed -- pushed up his goggles, revealing green eyes filled with sympathy. He sat on the wall ledge next to her and dropped an arm around her shoulders. "E nyh ehdu Gippal uh rec fyo uid." (I ran into Gippal on his way out.)
Paine looked away from him and out over the cityscape. "Cu ra dumt oui drah." (So he told you then.)
"Ra tet." Buddy lightly stroked her arm as he switched to Spiran. "This is probably a stupid question, but how are you?"
"It's not a stupid question." Paine took a deep breath and contemplated the scene before her. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "I've been bracing myself for this news for so long. Now that it's finally happened and I don't have to dread it anymore, I don't quite know what to think, or to feel."
He ruffled her hair, which she still kept short and spiky. "It'll come. Give yourself time."
"I suppose." She turned to him. "I thought I wanted to be alone, but I'm really glad you're here." She slipped a hand around his neck and kissed him. He returned the kiss, his familiar lips soft and gentle and so different from the firm, generous mouth of Nooj. She had always known that she would never feel the heat of Nooj's kiss again, but now the finality of that knowledge came crashing down on her, and suddenly she realized that tears were running down her cheeks.
Buddy wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, murmuring soft reassurances in Al Bhed. Paine found herself sobbing, hardly able to breathe, overwhelmed by the loss she finally allowed herself to feel after four years of stoic denial, releasing all the worry and fear she had been carrying. She buried her face in Buddy's neck as she cried, his hand tracing slow circles on her back.
Time passed. The sky turned completely black, bright stars glittering in the moonless canopy. When Paine was spent, she let out a sigh and looked up from Buddy's embrace, her hands on his shoulders. "Dryhg oui."
He nodded, lightly stroking the hair at her temple.
"Fyed rana; drana'c cusadrehk E ryja du tu." (Wait here; there's something I have to do.) Paine disentangled herself, then stood up and walked across the roof to its eastern ledge, pulling a square of paper out of a pocket -- she had long ago abandoned her leathers for a more practical jumpsuit, which had pockets everywhere. For the last several years, this item had lived in a box with a few other souvenirs of the past she allowed herself: a single sphere from her Crimson Squad days, a necklace her old lover Berrick had given her, a few trinkets to remind her of Yuna and Rikku, Gippal and Baralai. But she had pulled out this keepsake especially for tonight.
Slowly, she unfolded the yellowing page, taking great care not to tear it, and scanned the words written there: a recipe for a strong painkiller, a remedy that would ease even the most severe aches, written in a formal script, the hand clearly that of someone who had been trained as a priest of Yevon in the old days. The instructions described the plants and minerals used in making the medication, the method of pounding and mixing that would create the right texture, and the correct proportions of the ingredients, along with a stern warning about overdoses.
Nooj had taken these pills, long ago, during the weeks that the four friends had traveled together as Squadron Five, the cream of the Crimson Squad. Baralai had come up with this formula to relieve the pain caused by old battle injuries and the difficulties of living with machina limbs. When it became clear that the teammates might soon be scattered, Paine had asked Baralai to instruct her in making the medication, and he'd given her this document. She had never used the knowledge it contained -- the shooting on the Highroad had separated her from Nooj shortly thereafter, and when they reunited two years later he claimed not to need the drugs, despite all the evidence to the contrary: his constant small grimaces, the slowness of his walk at the end of a long day, an ever-present tightness to his features. Paine saw, but she gave up on confronting him about it. He thought he was being strong for her. She could never make him understand that she loved him more for his human weaknesses, not less.
Still, she knew the directions by heart. And she had held on to the paper as a talisman of sorts. She would never need it, but she'd kept it. Just in case. She wasn't even sure of what.
Paine rarely had much use for magic. She admired the skill in others, but she preferred a more tangible weapon, a sword or a gun, something she could feel in her hands. But during her time with the Gullwings, she and her companions had experimented with mage dresspheres. A few spells she had retained, and she called on one now, reaching deeply into herself for the essence needed to cast just a bit of fire. She could summon no more than a small spark, but that was all she needed -- it caught a corner of the paper and quickly began to spread, the flames licking up the edge. She held on to the opposite corner of the page as it burned. Eventually fire became too hot, and she dropped the paper off the ledge of the roof. An updraft caught the charred paper and threw it up into the air, where it twisted as the fire consumed it. Soon it was gone, the ashes scattering on the wind and disappearing into the darkness.
"Goodbye," she said, her voice soft.
Buddy walked up behind her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Better?" She nodded. "You don't have to bear it alone, you know. Not tonight, not ever. I'm here for you."
"As my friend?" She turned and faced him again, resting a hand against his chest.
Buddy cocked his head to the side. "Yc frydrajan oui haat sa du pa." (As whatever you need me to be.)
Paine contemplated him for a moment, then kissed him again. And the pain of a love forever lost began to recede as she found refuge in the comfort of a friend's arms, a shelter against the cold desert night.