The information dealer it turned out they were in the caves to see, a wizened moogle woman who had an air of knowing everything that reminded Vaan of Old Dalan, turned out not to be much help. She gave them directions to some church that she claimed might have a more exact idea of where the Cache was, and let them know that, while nobody else had come to her looking for information about it, she had heard whisperings of the name 'Glabados' here and there, but that was all she had to offer.

Vaan thought that Balthier hadn't needed to look so smug at the confirmation that other people really were after the treasure and Vaan just hadn't heard about it.

By the time they got back to the Strahl, Vaan felt like his body had developed a fine covering of scum. He'd never spent so long in a place so packed full of people before; the next time he overheard a tourist complaining about how crowded Rabanastre was he'd be tempted to give them directions straight to the caves so they'd have a chance to learn what crowded really meant. Worse, the place had stunk of unwashed bodies, smoke from both tobacco and poppies, rotting food from the occasional vender who was lazy about throwing out things that had gone rancid (especially since Seeqs, with their iron stomachs, would buy and happily eat anything that hadn't developed mold or maggots), and a thousand other scents that Vaan hadn't even been able to recognize. The smell of it all seemed to cling to him until he wanted nothing in the world more than a shower; he'd never cared all that much about getting dirty, but stinking was another story entirely.

He couldn't head for it immediately, though. On their way back out of the cave he'd stopped here and there to get Penelo a bunch of trinkets and doodads, with one or two for Ashe as well. He hoped they would help buy him forgiveness for the vanishing act he'd pulled. Before he did anything else he went over each of them in the light to make sure the vendors he'd bought them from hadn't ripped him off, or if they had that they'd at least done so with baubles that would still make nice gifts. He was pretty sure he was safe, since Balthier or Fran had yanked him away every time they'd spotted him heading for a seller who they'd known was a conman, and warned him to be cautious if they knew nothing at all about whoever's wares he was looking at, but it didn't hurt to double check.

It was only after he'd done that, then found a safe place to stash them, that he finally grabbed the spare clothes Balthier had lent him on his second day there and headed down to the small shower room in the belly of the ship.

When he opened the door it was immediately obvious that he'd been beaten to it when he was hit by a burst of steam and the sound of running water. He squinted through the fog, knowing that he was about to be very embarrassed if it turned out that Fran was the one he'd walked in on.

But, like he had hoped, it was Balthier that he made out across the room. The man's back was to him, his head bowed under the spray of hot water, one hand scrubbing at his hair as he used the other to brace himself against the wall under the nozzle and keep some of his weight off his bad leg. It was the first time Vaan had seen him naked in over a year, and he tried to ignore the way his breath caught at the sight.

His eyes found the spot where the scars on Balthier's neck had always disappeared under his collar and followed them down, discovering that the ended just after curling over his shoulder, not marring nearly as much skin as Vaan had feared. He let his eyes keep traveling over that pale, nearly unmarked flesh, not allowing himself to feel ashamed about peeping when he knew this might be the last chance he'd get to stare openly at Balthier's naked body, then he blinked when they reached his left arm.

Though that side of Balthier's face and, from what Vaan could tell from his back, body had been untouched by the flames that had burned the right side, a few inches above his left elbow they started again, worse than all the others and stretching all the way down the rest of the arm.

Vaan had never asked Balthier about his burns. It hadn't seemed worth it after the man had been touchy about explaining what had happened to his leg. It wasn't like there was a big mystery to how he could have gotten burned when the last place Vaan had known him to be was inside a giant airship that kept having parts of itself explode after a madman had swiped a bunch of vital parts from it to make himself a giant dragon-suit. But there had been a few things Vaan had wondered about now and then--why half his face was mostly untouched, why Fran had escaped unburned when Balthier had said she'd been unconscious--and like a burst from the blue he suddenly thought that he knew exactly what had happened.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Balthier starting to turn around until it was too late to even try dodging back out the door and pretending that he hadn't been standing there staring. At least it was a little gratifying to see the momentary look of surprise that flashed across Balthier's face before he suppressed it, letting Vaan know that he really had managed to sneak up on him this time. Of course, it would have been more gratifying if it hadn't been an accident.

"Did you need something, Vaan?"

"Uh... shower," Vaan replied, waving the spare outfit he was holding to illustrate what he was saying.

Balthier stepped out of the spray of water and reached for a towel. "I see. Well, I'm done here so I'll leave you to--"

Before he could slip away again, before he could even cover himself up, Vaan cut him off by walking over and grabbing his arm, not caring that he was close enough to the shower now for stray drops to splatter on the clothes he was wearing. "I get it now," he said, smoothing his hand across the scarred skin he held. "You were protecting her, weren't you?"

There was no question of which 'her' he meant.

"Not well enough, as you may have noticed from her ear," Balthier said in confirmation before pulling himself away. "Now, I'll leave you to your shower."

"Or you could stay," Vaan said quickly. He shucked off his shirt and tossed it outside of the reach of the shower's spray, then went to work removing his pants. "Why don't you stay?"

"Don't sell yourself short, Vaan! I'm certain it's safe to credit you with enough wit to shower safely on your own, for all that the the amount of dirt you track into my ship at times suggests otherwise." He gathered his own clothes and cane from where he'd left them and made his way out the door, still only wearing the towel he had wrapped loosely around his hips.

Vaan narrowed his eyes, full of frustration. "What the hell are you so afraid of that makes you keep running away from me?" he yelled after Balthier, then slumped against the wall, knowing by then that he wasn't going to get an answer. He let his head fall back to thump against the tile and covered his face with his hand. "I just don't get it," he said tiredly.

With no more conversation to distract himself, his mind was drawn inevitably back to what he'd been thinking about before Balthier had noticed him there. Now that he'd finally put two and two together he could picture what must have happened to Balthier and Fran in his mind, vividly and horribly.

Balthier, with his leg shattered and Fran out cold, wouldn't have been able to run from the explosions and the fires caused by them any more than he could have crossed the desert once things finally quieted down. His only choice would have been to find someplace to hide until the flames died down. Someplace low to the ground so they could get under the smoke, probably someplace near one of the fortresses ventilation shafts since they didn't end up dying of suffocation anyway.

But the cover it provided must have been imperfect, and of course Balthier would have chosen to give his face to the flames instead of lying the other way. There wouldn't have been much hope left for them at all if their feet had been burnt too badly to walk on. Though probably whatever they'd been under would have been long enough to cover him completely, but Fran was so tall...

Vaan could see them clearly. Balthier shielding Fran with his body, the left side of his face pressed into her hair--probably already sliced off almost to the scalp; hair like she'd had would have gone up like an inferno if the fire had hit it--his left arm wrapped tightly around her head. Balthier holding himself steadfast even when the flames drew close, because Fran was in no position to protect herself if he gave in to the desire to pull away.

Balthier burning.

Suddenly the water pouring down on Vaan seemed unbearably hot, and he yanked at the tap until it ran frigid.