Title: A Needless Apology
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Gippal/Baralai
Prompt: Fear
Summary: There are times when dreamless sleep is fervently yearned for.

It was the fourth night in a row now.

Baralai could see the thousand-year-old organ again. It emitted a terrible light, its fragile, magical pipes seeming to be made up of pyreflies. And then his fingers—against his own accord—played the organ as though the instrument was a part of him. Skillfully, his fingers danced in a daunting rhythm, playing a tune over a millennia old that Baralai had never heard before.

But why? What made Baralai of all people destined to become Shuyin's final puppet?

The Den of Woe—Pyreflies had attacked Nooj—but only because Gippal was quick enough to duck. If Gippal hadn't ducked, who would be the one playing the dramatic, tragic piano piece? Would it still be Baralai?

Why, Baralai pleaded. Why must this scene keep replaying over and over again?

He knew what was coming next. Gippal's voice rang out clearly, and Shuyin twisted Baralai's body around to see who was speaking. He could feel his mouth pull into what must have looked to Gippal like an overjoyed grin.

"Baralai!" Gippal was armed, but his arm holding the gun remained close to his side. "Can you still hear me?!"

Yes, Baralai could hear Gippal. Yes, he wanted to answer back. But Shuyin distorted Baralai's face into a psychotic, pleasured expression. No matter how hard he tried, Baralai was unable to stop himself from cocking the gun. He couldn't stop himself from aiming. And what was most terrifying of all, Baralai couldn't close his eyes and turn away. He watched, for the fourth time this week, his finger hook itself around the trigger and pull.

And for the forth time this week, the bullet penetrated Gippal's shoulder, and once more Gippal stumbled back and collapsed on the ground.

Baralai sprung straight up in his bed, both of his hands clasping in front of his rapidly beating heart. He closed his eyes and hesitantly flexed his hands, never feeling more grateful for being able to perform such a simple, everyday skill.

Slowly, Baralai sank back into the bed, staring out the window and at the sun just beginning to cast a pink glow over Bevelle. Even if Shuyin was controlling his body at the time, that didn't change the fact that it was Baralai's body that cocked the gun and shot his best friend.

Hours passed by and eventually, Baralai decided he ought to get up and perform his Praetor duties instead of vegetating in bed. He showered and dressed, the dream of the past few nights constantly on his brain. The sound of the gunshot still echoed in his ears.

When he was groomed and ready to exit his room, he took a deep breath and pulled open the door—and to his surprise, he saw Gippal standing there with his hand hanging in the air.

"Hey, Baralai! I see you're up early as usual." Gippal smiled and playfully punched Baralai in the shoulder. "Did I come too late to catch you before work?"

Baralai shook his head and smiled, the mask of the Praetor automatically washing away his worried features. "There's not much to do these days, other than paperwork."

Gippal nodded and frowned. "Yeah. I know what you mean. I haven't been on any digs out at Bikanel for a while, and it was only recently my workers at Djose told me they were building some sort of super-powered Machina monster."

"I'm sure they were unsuccessful without your help," said Baralai encouragingly.

"Yeah, well," Gippal waved his hand dismissively and cleared his throat. "Yuna wiped out their machine five times. I told them to quit foolin' around and to build something useful, like an airship or something."

Baralai hid his mouth behind the sleeve, remembering to laugh as he said, "Why? So you can come to Bevelle and visit me more often?"

"That's a pretty good idea, considering you look like an Unsent at the moment."

Baralai didn't appreciate the joke. "I've been working late these past few weeks, trying to get as much paperwork done as possible." The lie came easily—after all, he had told it many times. Thankfully, Gippal's expression softened into an understanding look, and—for the moment—he believed Baralai's story.

"Why don't you take a break? It's not like Yevon's gonna leap up and fly away if you come to Djose with me." Gippal stretched and folded his hands behind his head. "Besides, I really don't enjoy those older Bevellians staring at me when I come to visit you. Most of 'em still wanna shoot me on sight."

"A break from work?" Baralai considered the option seriously. Perhaps it would put an end to those nightmares that found their way back home nearly every evening. "That sounds like a good idea."

"Good!" Gippal pumped his arm—the one where Baralai clearly remembered shooting towards—and grinned mischievously. "You can leave now, right?"

"Now? What…?" Baralai shook his head sternly. "Of course not! I'm still the Praetor, and I do have a lot of responsibilities—"

Of course, Baralai should have known that Gippal wasn't the listening type. Gippal grabbed Baralai by the sleeve and forcefully pulled Baralai along toward the entrance of Bevelle.

"Gippal, what are you doing?! I don't have anything packed!" But his attempts at reasoning were completely ignored by the blond Al Bhed. Gippal was lucky Baralai had told the guards previously to allow Gippal full access to Bevelle, and that he was one hundred percent trustworthy. Baralai made a mental note to change that number to ninety-nine percent.

As the two drew closer to Bevelle's entrance, his calm Praetor mask fell apart, and he stared with wide eyes at the airship he was being dragged toward. "Gippal!"

Gippal laughed and finally let go of Baralai's sleeve and let him walk on his own. "This thing was buried under two tons of sand. It wasn't running when we dug it up, but I did a little of this and a little of that, and well… Here it is!"

"Oh," said Baralai in an airy tone. "I thought you were going to tell me you built it yourself," he added in a playfully sarcastic manner.

"Hey! You're gonna be the first non-crew passenger member, so be grateful!"

"I am grateful…" Baralai trailed off awkwardly, causing Gippal to quirk an eyebrow in curiosity. Baralai caught his slip and tried to cover for it. "This airship is the third one to be discovered in the past five years, if I can remember correctly."

Gippal nodded, but his green eye never left Baralai's face. "Yeah. The Highwind, the Celsius, and the Gippal."

Baralai crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. He never realized how difficult it was to act normal when painful memories were constantly barraging him. "Isn't that a little narcissistic?"

Gippal tilted his head up a bit and stopped in front of the stairs leading up inside the airship. "Would you rather I call it the Baralai instead?"

Baralai's brows knitted together. "What? Why?"

"Well, if you're not up for that name, I've got a third and final option." Gippal walked to the top of the stairs and turned around to face Baralai. He pointed directly to the Praetor and smirked. "Welcome to the Gippalai airship."

Baralai stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stared up at him. "…No."

"What? You didn't like the Gippal, and you're too humble to let me call it the Baralai, so I'm calling it the Gippalai!"

"Won't Nooj and Paine feel a little left out?" Baralai took a tentative step on up on the stairs.

"Nah. Besides, I can name the next airship we find and/or build the… Uh… Well, I guess their names don't go together quite so well."

Baralai laughed softly and followed Gippal inside the airship. "You're so strange. Not that I ever considered you to be normal."

The inside of the airship was beautiful—old, worn, and clearly needing a good scrubbing—but beautiful nonetheless. Baralai took a few steps, walking in a circle and taking in the sights while Gippal stood with his hands on his hips, a proud smile lingering on his face.

"So the engineer has finally gotten his hands on an airship…" Baralai carefully produced an appropriate, congratulatory smile. "It's a very nice piece of work, I must say."

Gippal nodded approvingly. "I'm glad I've got my navigator. Nooj and Paine won't be able to claim their rightful positions 'til next week." He scratched the back of his neck, looking a little disappointed. "Still, we're halfway there!"

"Indeed we are."

Gippal gave instructions to the pilot—Mad'c kad dra Gippalai pylg du Djose!—but Baralai was too mentally exhausted to bother to translate. He assumed it meant to take off toward Djose, since the airship catapulted into the sky.

Baralai sat in one of the passenger chairs, doing his best to enjoy his first time on an airship. But every time he closed his eyes, he could see the organ, his hands playing of their own accord, and the bullet smashing its way into Gippal's shoulder.

"Hey, 'Lai… Baralai!"

Baralai's eyes snapped open. Gippal's hands were on his shoulders, and he was staring intently down at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry…" His hands automatically clasped together in front of his heart. Hesitantly, he glanced around, only to find that the airship was no longer flying. "I fell asleep," came the obvious statement.

"You sure it's just being overworked?" Gippal brushed his index finger along Baralai's cheek. "You look kind of sick. Maybe this little break will be good for you."

Baralai did his best to nod professionally. "I'm sorry if I offended you by falling asleep. Staying up so late and doing the, ah… paperwork… It really takes a lot out of me."

Gippal shrugged his shoulders, taking note how Baralai kept his eyes on the old shot wound. "It's fine. Really, 'Lai. I just want you to enjoy your little vacation. If you're still tired, I can get you settled in at the temple."

Against, in Baralai's opinion, his better judgment, he accepted Gippal's proposal. Even though it was early afternoon, Gippal led Baralai into the always familiar temple. It was a little disheartening to realize the Fayth was no longer here in Djose, either, to sing the now unneeded song.

Gippal chatted about the Machina Faction's latest finds, but none of them were as large or as important as the airship now known as the Gippalai. He talked about the fun things he and Baralai could do after his nap—spherebreak, killing off a few stray fiends, and if it would make Baralai happy, Gippal even offered to take Baralai down into the Chamber of the Fayth so Baralai could pray there—even if the Fayth no longer resided there.

Eventually, Gippal left Baralai alone in the room the two would be sharing for what seemed to be the next week. Baralai hoped that the slight change in scenery would keep the nightmares away, but as he settled into the unfamiliar bed and closed his eyes, he knew that it wouldn't help at all.

Over and over again that afternoon, and all through his unfit sleep, Baralai saw himself fire the gun, saw the bullet pierce through Gippal's armor and flesh—saw him then collapse to the ground. Again, and again, and again. Baralai thought he would go insane if he witnessed that dream once more that afternoon, but just as his nightmare restarted again, he heard Gippal's voice—although it wasn't as clear as the Dream-Gippal's.

Gippal was singing that familiar tune Baralai had been missing. It was strange to hear it from Gippal's mouth. After all, Baralai wasn't sure if Gippal or any of the other Al Bhed sang along with the rest of Spira on the day they had tried to unify and calm Sin.

But Gippal's Hymn of the Fayth eventually broke through, and slowly, Baralai managed to rid his conscious of the nightmare and open his eyes. Déjà vu hit Baralai all over again as he saw that intent look on Gippal's face. It was the look Gippal had often used when he used to address Nooj about wanting to die.

Gippal stopped singing when Baralai opened his eyes, and instead said, "Talk to me."

Baralai sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Just a bad dream."

"Ah," said Gippal. "Like that bad dream on the airship and the bad dream you probably had before I went to knock on your bedroom door?"

Baralai was determined to keep up the charade. "I'm just a little overtired."

"I haven't heard reports of exhaustion causing nightmares." Gippal jabbed his index finger into Baralai's chest. "If anything, you should be dreaming less if you're that exhausted. Those old books about the brain talk about dreaming less when you get less sleep."

"Those books are probably outdated," Baralai retorted.

"Will you just tell me what you keep dreaming about?"

Baralai stared aside. He didn't have the energy to pull his face into a believable expression of a carefree mask. "It's nothing. Really."

"It must be something if you keep having it all the time." Gippal sat on the floor and rested his hands on his knees. "And you seem to be having bad dreams all the time."

For a while, Baralai was silent. He wrung his hands out of nervousness, but stopped as soon as he noticed how it looked like a nervous habit. Instead, Baralai tried to change the subject. "We should see what Nooj and Paine are up to. We can invite them on the Gippal."

"It's the Gippalai," Gippal corrected, "and that little trick of yours isn't going to work. I'm not some random Bevellian or Yevonite trying to pry information out of you. I'm your friend, remember? I'd tell you if something was bothering me."

Baralai shook his head defiantly. "There's nothing wrong."

Gippal sighed and resorted to trickery. He stretched widely, careful to make full use of his once-injured shoulder. As expected, Baralai's eyes lingered where the wound had once been, but his gaze quickly shifted when Gippal quirked a brow. "This doesn't have anything to do with that bullet wound, does it?"

When Baralai didn't answer, Gippal got up from the floor and sat on the bed instead. "I'm not mad at you or anything because of that."

"I know you're not mad," said Baralai slowly.

"Well, then?"

Baralai sighed and crossed his arms, avoiding eye contact. "I shot you. Just like Nooj had shot us in the back, I did the same thing to you all over again."

Gippal wasn't quite sure of what Baralai was saying. "Yeah, but that wasn't your fault. Shuyin did it, right?"

"It was my body," Baralai argued. "It was my gun, my arm, and my finger that pulled the trigger."

Gippal sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Shuyin was controlling your body, just like he was controlling Nooj back then in that cave. How could I be mad at you for something you had absolutely no control over?"

"That doesn't matter!" Baralai flinched when he realized his voice had reached a volume louder than he had expected. "It still happened," he said in a quieter voice. "Even if I'm not entirely at fault, it was still me who shot at you. I could have killed you. It took weeks for that wound to heal."

"But," Gippal interjected, "it healed. It's fine, Baralai." He rested a hand heavily on Baralai's shoulder. "Is that what you've been dreaming about?"

Baralai knew there was no point in trying to hide it any longer, and so he nodded. "It's every night now—every single blessed time I close my eyes. I see myself shoot at you, trying to kill you, over and over again."

Gippal frowned and tried to imagine if it were him having those dreams. "I'd be crazy by now if I had that dream every night."

Baralai laughed vaguely. "I think I'm getting there."

"Well, listen." Gippal stood and gently pushed Baralai back down onto the bed. "Don't feel bad about what happened. It was not your fault. My friendship with you hasn't been weakened at all. In fact, I kind of feel a little bit sorry for Shuyin."

"Gippal…?"

"Hm?" Gippal lowered himself to the floor again and kneeled beside Baralai's bed.

"I'm sorry for what I did." Gippal opened his mouth to argue, but Baralai continued, "I know you said it wasn't my fault, but I still felt the need to apologize."

"…Apology accepted, then." Gippal tapped on the bed with his index finger for a few seconds before looking at Baralai. "Feel better now that you've gone and apologized?"

"A bit."

"Then close your eyes."

Baralai didn't want to, but he was tired after so many nights of interrupted sleep. He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and waited.

"Ieyui," sang Gippal in a soft whisper. "Nobomeno…"

Baralai laughed appreciatively. Gippal sang the Hymn several times until he was sure Baralai was sleeping, and even then he sang it twice more. He continued to kneel there for several hours, always ready to take action if it looked like a nightmare was nearing.

When Baralai opened his eyes again, the room was flooded with sunlight. It was midmorning, and Gippal had fallen asleep in his kneeling position. Baralai smiled and nudged him awake.

"Mm…" Gippal yawned and groggily stared at Baralai. "G'mornin'… Sleep well?"

Baralai nodded. "I did. Thank you." He tilted his head and stared seriously at Gippal. "But why did you sleep here? It couldn't have been very comfortable for you."

Gippal half-laughed and half-yawned. "I was making sure that no nightmares were going to get past my watch. But I guess I fell asleep. I really did mean to go to my own bed after I was sure you were okay."

"Ah… I'm sorry."

Gippal stretched and stood up. "Nah. It's fine. But no nightmares, right?"

"Not a single one."

Baralai had to admit—even though he didn't have a pleasant dream, it was nice not to be haunted by those painful memories again.

--

A/N: Well, this is my very last story as a seventeen year old. Tomorrow, I turn eighteen. (July 18th, 2008.) That means I get to read all the Gippalai smut ficlets legally! Not that, uh, I ever did that stuff before. Heavens no. Yaoi? What's that?! Heheh. Anyway, I hope this little (…okay, my oneshots are never short like they should be) ficlet is pleasing to someone. And wildejoy, what do you think of this one? (You'll read it, right?) Did I do a better job this time? If not, tutor me! Please?