Summary: Laguna meets some interesting characters, all the while trying to make it through his journey. No one said it would be easy.

A/N: It actually started out as something serious, and then I bothered trying to make Laguna sound dorkier than I usually make him which meant meme-inserts...Can you catch them all? And then he meets Jecht, and my thoughts began to spiral down from there. I'm not sure if I can continue Papa Can't Preach without ruining it, so I'm holding off until exams are over and I can make a meaningful next installment. Fine, yeah?

I don't think this is any good, but here it is. I'll likely edit it later.

People-Pleaser

60 seconds...

There are exactly 60 seconds in a minute, even a very long one, Laguna remembers for no reason at all. Except, maybe, for the fact its dizzy and painful, and he really needs to focus on something if he intends to get out of here in one piece. Or alive.

Preferably both.

He thinks he can see a double rainbow somewhere, but his trust in his sense of sight is a bit shaky at the moment, like his legs, so he's ignoring that and trying to make sure everything's working inside and out. No wires sparking, no 'oh, did I forget something important?' and trying to crawl back over to find a missing spleen or something. Body and mind. And all that sort of stuff. Maybe he should try that Zen thing that was a fad a while ago in the upper districts of Esthar. His secretary was recommending it and everything-Ouch.

But that's not the point.

He's being beaten within an inch of his life. Kiros isn't dancing and telling him to pick his ass up and do something while backing him up with those fancy foot-skills and knives. Man, the things that guy could do with a table knife and turkey in the kitchen...Ward isn't throwing around that ridiculously huge and shaking the earth up like he's a vengeful Guardian Force intent on smiting all earthbound creatures in his rage-heh, poetic-like those brothers in that cave by Galbadia. Whatever happened to them…?

It's just him trying to pick up his impossibly heavy arms, fumble with some bullets, and aim Rags at the thing that is mercilessly taking him apart piece by ever-loving piece like a boss.

He's all for challenging himself, for pushing himself past his limits, going beyond the impossible, in order to make it back home to Raine and maybe so he can also tell a story that will draw that quiet impressed look from her that lasts long enough for him to feel...but that's something of a tangent, which he usually loves, when he isn't getting the crap beat out of him like he's a piñata filled with tons of candy at a 5-year old's birthday party. A super-evil-powered 5-year-old. Totally, for later when he's got some actual victories under his belt.

Which this is totally not.

He breathes in what he can as Rags tears up the ground in an effort to track the little demon half-blindly with one eye closed to protect it from the blood seeping down from a cut he got right above it, dodging every so often and finally lamenting that his hair, far from regulation, has finally gotten him trouble when his head is jerked painfully backward by one of those child-crystal-monkey-something-or-others. It hurts…

And he's slammed down on the ground, chest heaving, and looking death in its small, devil-ninja-monkey-magic-thing eyes. The guy's not even up to his chin, and he'd be in his corner of doom and gloom all about it all if he had the time, vitality, and confidence to do it. He notes that the eyes, or the places where they should be, are green, likely really green-maybe-emerald, and laughs hoarsely when he starts thinking about Winhill and how much he'd like to see that green instead.

"Hey," Laguna greets, actually coughing a bit in between syllables, blood trickling down from the corner of his mouth and pit-pattering on the rocky ground in a drum-beat fashion. "How ya' doin'?" He hopes those are some awesome last words, something that sums up everything about him without leaving anything important out. Words, words, words are important. He'd say something cooler, but those green eyes are getting brighter and the edges at the corner of his eyes are getting darker and he's having trouble thinking of anything at this point. He giggles as it catches up to him, a little kid taking him down when he's without his friends-he really misses them watching his back-and so easily without him even being able to act like a proper Cosmos Warrior and help out like he promised he would do-

And then the crystal-thingy lets go.

"Oh." Laguna whispers, his eyes wide open as he slumps to the ground in complete exhaustion and defeat. "I really need to get a potion." Things are getting hazier the longer he keeps his eyes open, but he can't remember why he wanted them open in the first place since he's so tired-

And as some other guy jumps in and starts beating into the little crystal-monkey-ninja like he was born to do it, which is more than Laguna could ever say, he smiles and hums before he blacks out and hits the ground.

"R'nt eye-h Lu-key."