Christophe woke suddenly, the image of Carli's limp body still fresh in his mind. Slowly, he realised he had just dreamt it. She's gone…

He cracked open his eyes further, squinting in the light that seemed bright to him, though in fact the nearest window had its curtains drawn, and the lights were off. It was only the early morning light that peeked around the cracks in the curtains that was blinding him.

Christophe grunted, shifting his body and feeling everything ache. He was sore, and his leg hurt worst of all. Surprisingly though, it felt better than it had before. The pain, however, was dull, as his wits felt. God knows how many drugs they've pumped into me.

There was movement beside him, and Christophe managed to open his eyes fully. His brother had his arms folded on the bed beside him, his head resting against them as he'd slept. Christophe waking up had woken him too.

Cortes opened his eyes, blinked blearily a few times, and then seemed to realise Christophe was awake. "Christophe?" He sat up from the bed, waking himself up completely.

Christophe couldn't help grinning, realising his brother had probably stayed all night for him. "Hey…"

Cortes fought a smile for a few seconds, but then just gave up. "Hey… how're you feeling?"

"Like crap…" Christophe smiled. He decided he was too low in the bed, and tried to push himself up further.

It wasn't so much pain that stopped him, but an overwhelming feeling of weakness. His muscles shook, and his body collapsed back under him as he let out a moan. He suddenly felt cold, and he was shivering.

"Hey…" Cortes took his hand. "Don't push yourself."

Christophe just nodded, gripping his brother's hand until the chill passed.

"Look, Christophe…" Cortes said. "I'm sorry I was such a jerk last time. I just… I felt you had betrayed me when you took off to join the Sphere… I couldn't see how that could help us. I should've trusted you…"

"Aran… it doesn't matter…"

"It does… I was…"

"No it doesn't!" Christophe growled. "Don't blame yourself, it's my fault. It's always been my fault!"

"Chris…"

"I didn't think of you, I didn't think of my crew, I didn't think of anyone but myself! I never do; I never have! It's just… hurt people…"

"What are you talking about?" Cortes frowned. "Christophe, you blew up your ship for me and my crew. That is the most unselfish thing you could do… it was a lot better than the way I was acting…"

"That's not… Aran… I really messed up…" Christophe looked away from his brother, trying to catch his breath after his outburst.

Cortes looked down at Christophe, and then moved a hand to grip his brother's shoulder. "Christophe, what happened?"

Christophe still didn't look Cortes in the eye, staring at some point across the room. "It doesn't… matter."

"Aye, it does. Look, you must've come halfway across Skyland to get here; I'm sure you could've found some hospital along the way, but you didn't. I'm right here, right now, but I cannot help you if you don't talk to me."

Cortes' attitude towards him was far different than the last time Christophe had come to Puerto Angel. But Christophe had come, even though he didn't know how Cortes would react; whether he would accept him or push him away. Now he didn't doubt his brother really did care about what had happened to him, but he still found it difficult to tell him. "Before the Sphere captured me…" he started anyway. "I was travelling with this girl, called Carli. We bought a ship together, because we both didn't have much money. It was just a business thing. But… I guess we could've gone our separate ways earlier… we should have, but we didn't." Christophe drew in another breath, his chest heaving. "We tried to take down a water carrier. It was my idea. And the Sphere caught us. They wanted me… but they didn't need her. The Guardian took me on his patroller, and tried to get me to tell him where Puerto Angel was. But… he just killed her."

"Christophe… I'm sorry…"

"She didn't do anything to them! It was my fault… I shouldn't have convinced her to go…"

"It's not your fault," Cortes said, taking his brother's hand again. "You didn't kill her… the Sphere did."

Christophe wanted to argue, but suddenly he didn't have the strength. He slumped back deeper into the bed, just drawing in air. His body was starting to shake again. "Aran… I'm… tired…" His eyes slipped shut.

Cortes was watching his brother sleep again. He let his hand slip from the man's shoulder. Then he just groaned, and hung his head.

----

"Can't help you if you don't talk to me"? Well, he talked to you, and you still can't do a damn thing!

I can't bring people back from the dead.

He'd made sure Christophe was sleeping, and made sure the nurses were looking out for him. Mahad had wandered in, and offered to stay with him whilst he slept, if Cortes wanted to leave for a bit. Cortes guessed the boy may have noticed how flustered he looked; he'd been pacing around the small hospital room, trying to keep as quiet as he could, but unable to stay still.

As much as he wanted to stay with his brother, Cortes had been glad to get out. Right now, he needed his own space.

For once, Cortes didn't feel like taking his problems to the Vector. He didn't find himself on the bridge of the Saint Nazaire either. Instead, he ended up beside the S22, still parked outside Mahad and Lena's house.

He looked up at the ship, and hated it. It was built to destroy, and nothing more. Despite this thought, Cortes found himself activating the door hatch, and entering the Sphere ship.

Inside was now clean. The body of the Guardian had been removed, as had been the Brig, and blood cleaned off panels. The only signs left of what Christophe had been through in here were the blast marks up the walls. The S22 simple awaited the pirates to decide what to do with it. Despite its design intention, the ship itself didn't really care who operated it, or what was done with it.

Cortes sat down in the pilot's chair, and looked over the control panel. Again, the ship appeared designed to kill. The weapon controls were easier to reach than the communications systems.

Cortes stared at the panel for a moment, anger building within him, until he eventually just slammed his fists into the machine's interface.

He knew how much it hurt to loose somebody you really cared about. He'd fought against the Sphere long enough that a part of him coldly knew that was just the way things were. The Sphere killed people, they broke up families, they stole and took everything from you they could. To expect anything different was foolish.

Despite knowing this, every time Cortes lost someone, it still hurt him. It hurt like the first time it had happened, and always would. Even when you promised yourself you wouldn't let them hurt you like that again.

Cortes knew Christophe was feeling this now. He was probably still in pain, and he was still fighting sickness. He didn't need that hurt on top of it all.

And Cortes could do nothing for him.

Cortes exhaled, attempting to calm himself, and stared at the Sphere screen in front of him. It displayed a small sphere symbol, rotating slowly, and flickering as the ship's systems idled.

"Why do you have to do this?" Cortes snarled at the screen. He pounded a fist against it, failed at causing it any damage, and then instead stood up and turned on the sidewall.

He hit it three times before he realised that this wasn't going to help Christophe either. He hit it for a fourth time, this time not as hard, then just let his fist slide down it, his knuckles stinging.

Cortes drew in deep breaths. Just don't let him hurt anymore…

----

Christophe sat up in bed, leaning his back against the wall behind him. Mahad was currently across the other side of the room, standing on a chair, boisterously re-enacting his last encounter with the Sphere.

Christophe was doing everything he could not to burst out laughing. He was finding the story far more amusing than impressive.

"And then, like fifty patrollers were coming at me! But they didn't scare me, so I flew at them…" Mahad made a motion with his hand, one that nearly carried his point of balance right off the edge of the chair. In fact, one of the chair legs almost lifted off the floor before Mahad rebalanced and continued, not even seeming to notice he had almost ended up with his face in the floor.

Christophe stifled himself again. He had the feeling a laughing fit would just exhaust him, and probably hurt too much to be worth the effort.

He was feeling better than he had previously though. When he'd awoken, finding Mahad now at his bedside, he'd managed to sit himself up without the feeling of weakness that had overcome him when he'd woken to find Cortes there. His leg still hurt him, but at least he didn't feel so sick. Just a little bit tired.

Despite feeling tired though, it was difficult to feel like going back to sleep with Mahad making a fool of himself in front of him.

"And then they…!"

"You're awake…" Cortes stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. He had possibly been there for a few moments.

Mahad started at Cortes' voice, and this time overbalanced, waved his arms in the air in an attempt to rebalance, than partway through that realised that it wasn't going to work, and instead half jumped – half fell – off the chair he'd been standing on.

Christophe snorted, then finally burst out laughing. Only for a moment though, because then he was out of breath.

"Are you alright?" Cortes asked. He looked a little worried, and walked over to his brother's bedside.

"Yeah…" Christophe drew in a breath, smiling. He wasn't sure if Mahad had actually been serious about his story, or had just been trying to entertain him. Either way, it had worked.

Cortes put a hand on Christophe's shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. He hadn't expected to see his brother so lively, so soon. Guess he is fighting. And surprisingly, I think Mahad is helping.

"Sorry…" Mahad muttered, pulling himself up off the floor and leaning on the bottom of the bed. "I got a bit carried away…"

"It's… okay…" Christophe smiled, still trying to get his breath back.

"It's alright, Mahad," said Cortes, his hand still on his brother's shoulder. "Thanks…"

Mahad shrugged. "No problem. I'll… leave you guys alone." He turned and left, then stopped in the doorway. "Oh… I blew up all the patrollers… in case you were wondering…"

"Go, Mahad!" Cortes growled, waving him out the door with his free hand. When Mahad had disappeared, he turned back to his brother. "You sure you're okay?" he asked again.

"Yeah… You don't need to leave someone to baby sit me, you know," Christophe smiled. He'd nearly gotten his breath back now, although he still looked tired. "You don't need to stay here all the time either…"

"I know. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay." Cortes pulled up a chair next to his brother's bed, and sat down. "I know you've been through a lot…"

Christophe shrugged. "I'll survive. I always do."

"I'm here if you need me though… I know I can't do anything. But I'm still here."

Christophe looked at some unidentifiable point on his bed sheet. "Thanks, Aran."

"I know we haven't been the best of brothers…" Cortes continued. "I know I haven't. But I'm going to try and change that…"

Christophe looked up at him, and forced a smile. "Hey, you're already doing a pretty good job. Thanks, really."

Cortes smiled back, looking a little embarrassed. Christophe seemed to be bouncing back. He'd been really worried for a little while. And he still knew his brother wasn't okay yet. Some things never really stopped hurting. But he was pretty sure he was going to be okay.

Guess I can't help it. I really do care about him, whatever he's done wrong in the past.

A/n: Yeah, probably not the best ending, but yes, that is the ending. If I continue this all it will end up as is spiraling angst. I have other things I need to write. Hope you enjoyed anyway. :)