So I woke up this mornin' thinkin' I might do somethin' a little different. See, I've been... on vacation... for a while and I've got another as yet undetermined stretch of time to go, and there's only so much doin' nothin' a body can stand before the stir crazy sets in... starin' at the same four walls for days on end and all that.

It ain't so bad bein' sedentary for a spell when you know there's an end to it. You kick back, recharge, catch up on your crosswords, daytime talk shows, or that stack a' books you've been makin' bigger instead a' smaller... you know how it goes. And then, after a few days, you go back to work. Or school. Or whatever.

Everybody gets the same feelin' right about the same time durin' some well deserved time off - "Man, I wish this could last forever". No you don't. You'd be good with another week or so, but forever? That's a... well, that's a fuckin' long time. To do nothin'. And that's why, even though you bitch and moan about it, you're kinda glad to get back to the routine.

Bein' aimless ain't always the cakewalk it appears to be. Songs and movies like to romanticize it, but even slackers, grifters, and bums gotta work.

Now, I ain't one to complain about havin' not a lot to do, but that's all tied up with how I make my livin'. Killin' people ain't hard for me, but I make up for it by enjoyin' my down time. I make up for takin' a life by livin' some extra.

Which brings me back around to my point. Doin' somethin' different. Trouble is, I'm at a bit of an impasse with myself over how I could best spend my time.

I s'pose I'll have another beer and make some kinda half-assed effort to tidy the place up while I contemplate my options.

I'm about a third of the way through the beer and a sixteenth of the way through organizin' my music when I hear a knock at my door. I ain't expectin' company, so I stop what I'm doin' and wait to see if they knock again. I might be out - I usually am - for all they know.

Another knock.

"Who is it?"

"Squall."

Well, color me surprised. I get up and open the door. "C'mon in, Pretty Boy."

I get a cocked eyebrow as he walks in.

"What brings you out to my neck a' the woods?"

"Heading to The Bar for a beer. Thought you might want to come along."

I lose my grin when it hits me what this is about. "You'da called if that were all it was. Just say your piece so I can tell you to fuck off."

To his credit, my response don't really seem to come as a shock to him. He just nods a little and gets right to it. "None of us have seen or heard from you in over a week. What's wrong?"

"That it?"

"That's the abridged version, but yeah."

"Good. Now fuck off."

He looks me straight in the eye for a few seconds and then leaves. Just like that.

Squall and I have a rapport, y'see. We understand how to talk to each other when neither of us really wants to talk. I appreciate the efficiency of that arrangement.

.

Selphie breezes in like she owns the place. I almost make a comment about how knockin' is still good manners, but since I gave her a key a little while back, I reckon it's better to keep that one to myself.

"Howdy, pardner."

You'd think she'd be real close to gettin' tired a' that joke by now. You'd be wrong.

She walks over to where I'm sittin' on the floor and gives me a kiss. "Bet you're wondering why I'm here, huh?"

"I'll bet vital parts of my anatomy that Squall sent you."

I don't give any inclination that I'm movin' any time soon, so she takes it upon herself to plop down in my lap. "I can't come see you on my own?"

"Well, you ain't been by before now and seein' as he was here yesterday, I figure he asked you to try an' get me to open up."

She tilts her head to the side a little and just looks at me for a few seconds. "He did ask, but I was gonna come anyhow. I was getting..."

"Bored?"

"Curious."

I've got no clue what she means by that, but I figure she'll fill in the blanks without me askin'.

"Are you avoiding me because you're tired of me already?"

Selphie treats most conversations like horses and tact is a saddle - it ain't strictly necessary as long as you don't mind a bumpier ride.

"What? Darlin', no."

She's got an expression on her face that falls right square into that tiny little space between 'I understand you've got things on your mind' and 'you shouldn't be around the sharp things'. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"I don't believe you."

I know what concern sounds like in somebody's voice, an' I ain't gonna say I wasn't a little touched by hearin' it, but that don't change the fact that nobody likes to be called a liar to their face. "Well, if you already knew the answer, why'd you ask the question?"

She gets frustrated at that and stands up. "Don't be like that. I'm being serious."

I lean back onto my palms and watch her pace for a bit. "How 'bout you tell me what's on your mind?"

"I'm worried about you."

"Don't be."

She wants to huff and puff and stomp around - that's the act she puts on when things ain't goin' her way - but she knows that now ain't the time, so she makes do with tracin' the pattern on my countertop. "Don't you want to know why I'm worried?"

"Other than thinkin' I'm ditchin' you?"

"Yeah."

"Nope." She goes rigid at that. Nothin' like bein' an asshole to take the wind outta somebody's sails, but I was tellin' the truth. "Look, just leave me alone for a while. I ain't sick, I ain't lookin' to down a quart a' drain cleaner, and I ain't in the mood for company."

She gives me the same look Squall did. Same unspoken conversation, too, just in Selphie's words this time. Then, she lets herself out and shuts the door behind her.

This is the problem with bein' me, by the way. There ain't nothin' I can do that's outta character for me until I do somethin' that is. And believe you me, as soon as that somethin' occurs, that bandwagon of people that just wanna help me, save me, support me fills up faster'n a church on judgement day.

Now, it makes me happy knowin' that my friends wanna do what they can if I need somethin', an' I ain't tryin' to make it sound otherwise, but it pisses me off when nobody seems to think I've got the gumption to take care a' my own self from time to time.

.

I'm standin' here starin' at my sax. I kinda wanna play a little somethin', but I kinda don't. I reach up and stroke my chin... when the hell was the last time I shaved? Well, I'll just have to take care of that before I go anywhere, I s'pose. I head into the kitchen and grab a beer. Runnin' low on those. I wonder if I can get the store to make a delivery?

I lift the bottle to take a swig and somebody decides that right then's a good time to knock on my door. It ain't. The sound gives me a start and I spill some of the beer down my shirt.

"Shit."

Instead of a second knock, I get a voice instead. "Hello?"

I ain't feelin' overly polite, so rather than ask who it is, or even tell 'em to just come in, I walk over and throw the door open. I'm already speaking before I even finish turning the knob. "What the f-" I'm more'n a bit thrown by who it is.

"Hey, you're home. Cool."

"Zell?"

He looks around behind himself. "Um... yeah. Are you-"

I shut the door in his face. I take a long pull from the beer and sink to the floor with my back to the door.

He knocks again.

"Go away, Zell."

"I need to talk to you for a minute."

"Shuttin' the door in your face should'a been a clue that I might not be in a talkin' mood."

"C'mon, man. Please? I just want a little advice."

There ain't no way I heard that right, but I don't get a chance to ask Zell to repeat himself. I just start laughing. And not tiny little chuckles, either. Big, loud, where-the-devil-is-this-comin'-from laughter. I stand up and lean on the bar so I can get more breath. I can already feel my face goin' red. It keeps up for a good solid couple a' minutes before I can start breathin' right again. I turn to look at somethin' movin' off to my right. It's Zell. Guess he tried the handle and found out the door wasn't locked. Soon as I set eyes on him, I start up again. Not quite as loud this time, but I'm cryin' from shuttin' my eyes so tight. And Jesus, my sides hurt.

Zell slides onto a barstool and waits for me to get this outta my system.

I'm still not done, but I try an' speak anyway. "You get points for surprisin' me, that's for sure."

"Thanks...?"

"Now get out."

Bless his heart, he looks so confused by that statement. "But..."

"Nope. None a' that. Out."

"But I-"

"I said 'out'. An' I meant now." I step over to the door and open it. "An' tell the others I'm done bein' nice about askin'."

Zell swivels to face me. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm tired a' this bullshit, alright? Tired a' bein' worried over an' checked up on. Can't you get it through your fuckin' heads that I'll be fine if you'll just leave me alone?"

He doesn't move. He just sits there lookin at me. Not starin', mind you... Lookin'. "I'm not checking up on you, man. I actually want your-"

"Advice? Help?"

"Well, yeah."

"Why? Why me? Why my advice?"

He furrows his brow, like he's really confounded as to why I'm askin'. "Kinda figured it'd be obvious..."

I s'pose lettin' him finish would be the right thing to do, but I ran outta 'right' a while back an' I wasn't too keen on stoppin' to pick up some more just yet. "Lemme tell you what's obvious. It's obvious that spendin' your entire life takin' care of others don't mean squat. It's obvious that makin' friends, makin' people happy, makin' a difference - even to just one person at a time - is a fuckin' useless thing to do."

"Hey, I-"

"There ain't nothin' like takin' the time to build yourself up into exactly who you wanna be, only to have it blasted all to hell in the blink of an eye. An' for what? All because some crazy bitch decides to compress time so she can have her own fuckin' version of a perfect existence. I was trapped in some god forsaken nowhere place without another living soul anywhere. You know what that is for me?"

Zell just shakes his head.

"That's it. That's the end. That's death." I slump down onto my couch and let out a sigh that seems to take all my anger with it like water down a drain. "Ain't no excuse for havin' a life if you can't live it. An' there I was... complete and whole, surrounded by emptiness and absence."

"So... Then what?"

"Then nothin'. I gave up. I must've fallen asleep at some point, an' when I woke up, I was back here... back from the dead. Everything after that happened so fast, I just went with it, y'know? The party, seein' everybody again, realizin' that we saved the world an' all... But then it all calmed down. Went back to normal. An' that part didn't get to me, but soon as I had a few minutes to myself, I thought about how quick I threw in the towel." I close my eyes against the sunlight comin' through my windows.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"What?"

"What you just said. It doesn't make any sense. How do you know how quickly you did anything? Time didn't exist then. It could've been... well, years... before you gave up."

I hits me all at once how tired I am. I ain't talked this much in... Jesus, how long? Point bein', I kinda want to get all upset at Zell for tryin' to be reasonable, but I ain't got nothin' left. "So?"

"So... it sounds like you're holding yourself accountable for something you might not've even done."

"Still don't change the fact that I gave up."

"No, it doesn't. But if you finally gave up after, like, four lifetimes of trying, doesn't that count for something?"

"When time stops, there ain't no difference between four lifetimes and four minutes."

"You're a stubborn bastard, aren't you?"

"Have you met me?"

"Look, man, I see where you're coming from with all of this, but it's over. It's done. Trying to recreate your own personal hell to avoid talking about a mistake that you didn't even make is just... dumb."

I borrow a page from Squall's book and cock an eyebrow at him.

"What?" he shrugs. "It is."

"Thanks for reducin' all my pain an' misery down to somethin' where the appropriate response is 'Yeah? So's your face.'"

"You're welcome."

"That was sarcasm."

"I know."

I shake my head and I feel my grin comin' back. "Y'know, it ain't like I'm fallin' apart at the seams. I'm still takin' care a' myself. I shower, keep the place clean, eat when I'm hungry, an' sleep when I'm tired."

Zell gets up and walks around the bar into the kitchen. "You got any soda in here?"

"You mean tequila?"

"No."

"Then no."

"Mind if I have a beer, then?"

"Help yourself."

He opens one and comes over to sit in the chair next to the couch. "Are you telling me that you're happy like this?"

"Not really."

"So you're unhappy, then."

"Not really."

"Are you fucking with me right now?"

"Not really."

"Dude..." He rolls his head back and runs his hand down his face.

"It ain't as easy as all that. Bein' alone is... I like the quiet. An' I miss everybody now an' again, so I think about goin' out, but I end up talkin' myself out of it."

"Why?"

I shrug. "Dunno. I reckon I ain't got the energy. Bein' around people speeds everythin' up, y'know? An' when I'm alone, I'm settin' my own pace."

"You're letting the world pass you by because you're afraid the world's gonna pass you by? Now that's depressing."

"How's makin' fun a' me s'posed to help?"

"Oh, come on. You, of all people, have to realize how full of shit you sound."

Well I'll be damned. Funny how you can tell yourself somethin' over and over an' it'll always sound reasonable, but when a different voice says the same thing, it makes a new kinda sense.

Zell leans forward, elbows on his knees. "You do realize that you aren't the only one, right?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Every one of us came back... damaged. You were just the only one that decided to become a hermit."

I don't say anything, mainly 'cause that thought actually hadn't occurred to me. I figured that everybody else was goin' on about their lives. I'm the one they come to for help most times an' since no one was askin' for my opinion, they must a' been doing alright. By the time Squall came by, I was pretty stuck in my rut. "You seem to be doin' good."

"I guess. Some days are better than others, but the 'betters' are starting to outnumber the 'others' more now."

I nod. I'm still lettin' all this sink in. I was tired before, but now I'm exhausted. Gettin' all that crap outta my head an' off my chest wears a body out. I wanna ask how the others are holdin' up an' - just 'cause I'm curious - what manner a' demons they've been plagued with, but I've slid sideways an' passed out almost before I finish the thought.

I don't dream at all. I never really had nightmares after I got back, but my dreams were more... active than usual, an' I kept wakin' up feelin' like I'd never even gone to sleep. This is just a deep, heavy, comfortable sleep. An' when I wake up, I actually feel rested.

I'm a might confused, 'cause I ain't got a clue where I am, but once all my senses catch up to my body bein' awake, I realize that I'm in my bed an' not on the couch. I'm still dressed, so I guess Zell must'a carried me in here after I fell asleep. I get up and make my way out of the bedroom, an' sure enough, there's Zell sittin' on my couch as comfortable as you please.

"Have a good sleep?"

"Yeah, actually. Really good." I head for the kitchen and start makin' some coffee. "I feel better'n I have in weeks."

"I'm glad to hear it."

I look at the clock and do some math in my head. "Was I really out for sixteen hours?"

"Yep."

"Damn."

"Yep."

"You been here the whole time?"

He turns to face me with an utterly deadpan expression on his face. "Be pretty crappy of me to just leave after all that."

I can't help but smile. "Makin' sure I didn't have some sort a' violent outburst in my sleep, too, yeah?"

"Well, there's that, but it seemed to me that if you woke up with no one else around, you'd just go back to being a shut-in. And that didn't strike me as the best plan."

I lean on the counter and take a good hard look at him. I can honestly say that I never gave Zell all that much credit before now. He was always there if you needed backup, and he'd sure put you to shame in a fight, but he seemed to embrace his inner goofball a bit too much, you know? When he wasn't fightin' it was like he was afaid to take himself too seriously. "Did you really come see me 'cause you needed advice?"

He laughs. "Yeah. I really did."

"Still need it?"

"Not really. Letting you go off about stuff more or less gave me the perspective I needed."

"How'd you get to be so good at takin' care a' people?"

"Dude... I'm a martial artist. Everything I do is about balance. And while it's pretty easy to keep centered when it's just me, it's a little harder when all my friends are spinning off into their own little worlds."

I let all of that settle for a few minutes before I speak. "So I'm thinkin' 'bout doin' somethin' a little different today. How about I go get changed and we head out to The Bar?"

"They serve soda at this bar?"

"You mean tequila?"

"No."

"Well, they probably do, I've just never seen it."

"Do you ever go anywhere that has anything to drink other than tequila and beer?"

"Not if I can help it."

"Fine. I'm in. Go get changed."