Setting: Starts on the farplane right at the end of FFX.

Plot: Auron-centric. Lots of flashbacks planned, including pilgrimage scenes and pre-FFX Zanarkand type stuff. Auron comes back after the perfect ending of FFX-2. Stuff happens. I'm making this up as I go along.

This is my first fanfic EVER, so please R&R. You will find no Mary Sues in my writing, and I'll keep it as high-quality as possible. No stealing, either. If you want to read other wonderful FFX and FFX-2 stories, check my favorite stories list in my profile. I'm a total addict.

Prologue: Of Death

So, this was what it felt like to be dead. Really dead.

Auron looked at his hand-- or rather, looked through it. The final scene of Tidus' story shone though the semi-transparency of Farplane flesh, and Auron's good eye widened at the sight. It was, without question, a very sentimental ending. The father and son slapped hands as soon as they saw one another, and then without missing a beat, they hugged. Like always, Tidus became overemotional, blubbering "I hate you" over and over until it was indistinguishable from the "I love you" of Yuna's voice still ringing in their ears. The blonde buried his face into his father's shoulder, halfway between laughing and crying. Standing on the other side of the pair was Braska, smiling at the two, hands clasped calmly behind his back.

"Still consider your boy a crybaby, Jecht?" he asked, walking slowly around the pair towards a still-stoic Auron, long flowery robes trailing behind him. The reason for Braska's question shone on Jecht's face. When he and Tidus looked at each other, two dream-ghost men covered in equal measures of saltwater tears, they burst into laughter that echoed across the Farplane.

Jecht was the first to change the subject. After all, so what if Tidus had happened to inherit his crybaby tendencies from an over-emotional father? "Well, Braska, at least you're not alone anymore, huh? Got all three of us jackasses on your case now," he said with a wide grin.

"Quite the contrary. I have not been alone for quite some time. Though I must admit, I have missed my guardians. And it is good to meet the one who's captured my daughter's heart." With a calm smile, Braska raised a hand to the group, leading the three of them deeper into the heart of the Farplane. "Let me give you the five-gil tour." Though Tidus had to giggle at Braska's antiquated terminology, the three followed behind, Jecht keeping an arm around his son as if he'd never see him again.

Auron dragged behind, hiding a disappointed scowl behind his collar - which was, luckily, only as transparent as most of his body and not simply see-through to the ghostly flesh. Giving his friends a sneak peek at his privates was not at all appealing. The scowl remained, however, despite that small comfort. Somehow he'd expected this moment to be more... monumental. His death had already been much like his life, though things were always a little colder, a little more painful. On Spira, and even in Zanarkand, he still continued to grow old. He continued to rest and eat, breathe and sleep. He'd even gotten morning wood, for Yevon's sake, and that was one of the most annoying parts of actual life in the first place. It led him to wonder just how much of an end death could possibly be. Even here, he felt his own form holding him in, felt the soft, almost furry brush of pyreflies on his skin. His non-skin. Whatever bubble kept his essence together whereas other souls disappeared, rested forever. It was almost impossible to distinguish life from death, even in this place of death.

"So Braska," Jecht half-shouted, interrupting the course of warrior-monk's thoughts, "what's with this whole dead thing? I mean, I still feel like I'm a hot-blooded young stud. Just now I don't have a monkey named Yu Yevon on my back. What gives?"

Auron chuckled. "I was wondering the same thing myself," he murmured, eliciting a snicker from Tidus.

"When were you a hot-blooded young stud, old man?" questioned the boy, ducking the glove Auron had pulled off and thrown at him in anticipation of the remark.

"I was young once. Which reminds me... how is it that I have aged, and neither of you have?" Auron lowered his sunglasses, and rubbed at his scar. The wound had healed over just a few weeks after he'd made his slow crawl down Gagazet, once he'd found Yuna's future Ronso guardian. And then the contact with Sin, the sudden yank from reality that had pulled him into dream Zanarkand, where he'd continued to experience life in the same way he'd experienced it in Spira.

"Spira itself," replied Braska. "If you remain on Spira despite death, if you have some purpose to which you must attend, your body decides that it is still utterly whole, though your soul is pulled toward the farplane."

Jecht grabbed his shoulder and massaged a kink out, cocking his head to the side. "But what about Auron's ten years in Zanarkand? Or other people there? I mean, I think we had at least one or two undead walkin' around. And I don't mean fayth."

Braska shrugged. "I'm thinking it's the same thing with Zanarkand. Those who become fiends, however, are probably the opposite. Their bodies are dead, likely buried, and it is their souls that decide they've remained whole. In either case, of course, they're wrong. What's dead is dead, and bodies like Auron's, or souls like fiends', are just kind of confused about being alive. You follow?"

Tidus paused in their walk and scrunched up his forehead, jaw going slightly slack in thought. After moments, his mouth snapped shut, and he halfway raised a hand, dashing to catch up to the group. "I don't get it, Lord Braska."

"Now there's a surprise," joked Auron, with a chuckle. "Jecht, did you drop Tidus on his head when he was little?"

"Well..."

Tidus stomped and waved his arm in mock anger. "Hey! Cut it out, man, I'm not that much of a ditz!"

"No, you're a blitz," Auron corrected.

"Huh?"

Braska smiled. For some reason, he could see why his daughter would like this kid. "Tidus, they're just kidding you. You probably don't get it just because I'm blowing smoke from my rear end." His smile got even bigger when Jecht started guffawing at his rare breach of decorum. "Seriously, though, this is all the stuff I've come up with floating around here for the past ten years, waiting for my guardians to show. Waiting for my baby girl to save the world. That kind of thing"

Jecht rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it. I've kind of been in the same crap situation, you know. Locked up inside Yu Yevon's funky shell. And I mean funky. As Sin, I really freaking stank. You know how much a big thing like that sweats?"

"What I don't understand is," said Auron, bringing them back to the previous topic of conversation, "Neither Tidus nor Jecht are technically dead. You're both figments of the imaginations of dead souls. So it's a bit peculiar that you're here at all."

"Hey. Yeah. Hm. I'm, uh. I'm not really sure why that is. Or what's going on." Tidus stretched his arms out at his sides, then let them fall to slap against his hips. "Wish the Bevelle fayth were here to help me out. That'd be handy. I really want to see Yuna again, but like, I don't want to wait until she's dead. That'd totally suck."

Braska chuckled. "Why don't you spend your time here making a theory about your existence? I'm sure it won't be too long before the fayth comes to explain things to you. And then that can be the first thing you tell Yuna about if you ever get to go back."

Jecht barked out a laugh. "That'd be something, wouldn't it? Coming back from the dead when you're not really dead in the first place."

Tidus nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His normally carefree eyes were squinted in concentraiton, and he chewed on his lower lip while the older men continued to walk. Silence overtook the group until Braska reached a place in the farplane that looked like a quiet garden. It reminded Auron of Macalania, with its dark silence and the silent crystalline flutter of shining things. There were more pyreflies here, and one flew straight through Auron's body, coming out on the other side and zipping around in front of his eyes before floating away. The unreality of it made him shiver. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation. More soft than anything. But it was...

"Unsettling. Isn't it?" Braska chuckled and held out a hand, where several more of the tiny lights settled, winking in turns like Yevonmas decorations. "More unsettling than anything since these pyreflies aren't actually the same creatures we knew when we were alive. These are dispersed souls. The dead who have ceased all conscious thought. They look like pyreflies for the same reason pyreflies are attracted to the farplane: the matter they are made of is quite similar. I don't know much about them, but they're very... calming." He smiled. "I think it's this calming feature that makes other souls decide to cease conscious thought and rest. Some of them can form once again, if there is a need, of course. Most never do. Some even collect in human-shaped masses, tiny fragments from souls long gone, and fly into Spira. These masses are most attracted to fertile women."

Jecht smirked. "Heh. I would be too. Bow-chika-bow-bow!" The dark-skinned blitzball player wiggled his shoulders in time to the beat he'd made, channeling the spirit of porn music. Tidus caught it and laughed, and even Auron smirked behind his collar.

With a smile, Braska shook his head. "Not quite. More like... Little bits of you, and me, and lots of other souls out there, once a newborn is conceived, it calls us all. And little pieces, little tiny fragments that look like the pyreflies down here, they form up and go fill the babe in the womb with life."

Auron nodded. "That makes sense. So lots of different older souls... become one new soul. Each birth is truly the birth of something new, but the farplane doesn't fill up with soul particles. I suppose."

"Yes, that's what I think," said the summoner.

"Reincarnation?" Jecht asked, sitting down to lean against a tree that glimmered like cut obsidian. "I always thought that was a bunch of mumbo-jumbo. Y'know, phoney as Yunalesca's silicone-enhanced tits."

"It may be. No one really knows, save Yu Yevon. Now that he's dead, though, the fayth are working on drawing out his secrets." Braska grinned. "And as Tidus and Jecht know, they can be very... persuasive. Since they've rested so long, they're quite active down here."

"Wha?" Tidus asked, stunned out of his reviere.

"Nothing, kid." Jecht sighed, and began tracing small patterns in the dirt of the forest ground. Then again, who could tell what the hell this ground was made from? Everything else in this garden was beautiful and stark, like cut stone and gems. And all of it very, very cold. Even the ground looked like nothing more than granite dust. "Ehh. This is depressing."

"Why's that, Jecht?" asked Braska. The High Summoner moved to the tree and kneeled, keeping his robes from getting caught on his soft boots and tripping him.

"I just. Well. I don't really think I'm interested in hanging out here so much. You know? I mean... my wife's not here because she was never real. I think I'm ready to rest. Maybe I'll dream something good. And like ol' Braska said, we can come back if we're needed. In case either Spira or little Yuna ever needs our help again." The former blitzball star smirked and folded his arms, laughing suddenly. "Or maybe I could go look up those nice fertile womens. Va-voom!"

Tidus snickered and shook his head, suddenly becoming very interested in a plant that looked like it had been made from pure emeralds, yet bent and blew in a mysterious wind he could not feel. His brow furrowed, but this time, not in thought.

Auron nodded, pulling down his collar. "It's true. If Yuna is ever in need, we can all become ourselves again and help her. Maybe minus a few soul particles, if Jecht really feels the need to become a baby again. Not as though he wasn't before."

"Har har har." Jecht rolled his eyes, but grinned, punching Auron's shin playfully. "I helped save the world, you know."

"Yeah, after almost wrecking it."

"Shut up." Jecht smirked.

"No, you shut up!" Auron smirked wider.

"Children..." Braska interceded, holding up his hands, and when Jecht stuck his tongue out, the summoner fell over laughing.

Jecht's decision was sudden, but somehow, the time seemed right. They were ready. Auron looked up at his old friends, then walked over and kneeled next to Jecht and Braska. In an unprescedented display, pulled the both of them into a tight group hug. Tidus, who had curled into a ball and was humming the Hymn of the Fayth, looked up towards Jecht and Auron with tears in his eyes.

"Crybaby," Tidus' father and foster-father said in unison. Braska lay a hand on the young man from behind, and murmured, "Take care of my daughter. I'm sure you'll meet again." There was a gravity in his words that the boy could not understand... That is, until he looked over his shoulder. The child with the soul of a dragon had appeared, and before Tidus could finish crying, before Jecht could finish hugging his son, the blitzball-playing dreams that were Tidus and Jecht simply vanished. With a bow to the two remaining men, the dark-skinned child walked away, wiggling his toes in the granite dirt of the forest floor, before laughing and running off.

"That was..." Auron balked. The fayth, of course. That fayth had summoned Tidus and Jecht both. He had been responsible. He must have created a part of both of them, and his dream simply returned to him. "Yuna won't be alone for long."

"Naturally," murmured Braska, smiling. Suddenly, his wife walked out from behind the trees. Silently, she took his hand. Silently, they disappeared into a thousand tiny lights, and Auron was alone.