Self-Mutilation
By: Wolfemann and Pink Lemonade
Disclaimers: FF9 and associated story elements don't belong to us. Though, if Squaresoft (who does own them) really *wanted* to turn them over to a pair of little miscreants like us, who are we to dissuade them?
*hopeful look*
Damn, not working. Oh well - no credit being claimed, no money being made, no lawsuits being filed, right?
Warnings: High R, Slash (m/m sex), Rape (m/m), Violence, M/F Relationships, and Angst (have we *ever* written something without it? Would we disappoint you now?)
Pairings: Zidane/Zidane, Zidane/Dagger
Summary: While escaping from Oeilvert, Zidane and company run into another Epitaph. Problem is, this one produces an unusual clone that does more than it's supposed to..
~~~===~~~
"Zidane," Freya advised tersely, glaring at the seemingly harmless blue statue ahead of them, "watch out!"
"Get Amarant back up," Zidane warned, eying the mirror image of himself. "I don't get how they do it, but these things use death spells that kill their counterparts, and we'll need Amarant to revive."
"Won't work," Freya shook her head. "It knocks them out again when they're barely on their feet!" She spoke in a tone that made Zidane realize she was more concerned with getting rid of the problem as directly as possible. She reached into her pocket, and drew out a small vial of yellow, sticky- looking liquid, and tossed it quickly towards the Epitaph. The glass made a strangely satisfying tinkling noise when it smashed on the stone creature, but the throaty screech of the monster made Zidane and Freya both wince.
As if he'd been waiting for the dragon knight to drop her spear off to the side to throw the vial, Zidane's doppleganger lunged forward, the two powerful dagger-blows sending her flying back into a wall. She slumped to the ground limply, the last attack more than she could take, battered as badly as she already was.
"So - now it's just you and me," the clone smirked, looking at the real Zidane.
Zidane should probably have been more concerned about his current situation than the thought that struck, but none the less he blurted out: "What the hell?!? You actually talk? I thought you just tried to convince us you were someone you weren't!" It sounded unbearably awkward, but when Zidane spoke on impulse he had the tendency to sound strange.
"I've got a bit more free-will than the rest of those jokers did," the clone explained. "I'll have to remember to thank that mouse-bitch later though, for taking out the big guy. After I've taken care of you and your precious princess, that is."
"I thought it was weird you didn't just use that death spell," Zidane muttered under his breath. "What the heck do you *mean?!*"
"Please tell me I'm not that naive," the clone sighed, rolling his eyes as he circled around Zidane. "I'm your mirror image, remember? I think you can guess which ideas you've had that I'm planning on acting on," he smirked.
"Wh-What," Zidane sputtered in a shocked way when the clone's meaning hit him, but made a hasty recovery. "I don't know what the hell your problem is, but leave her alone! Dagger has enough problems right now.. " He shook his head. Nope, no time to feel sorry for anyone right now.
"And just how do you plan on stopping me, hmm? Just have to snap my fingers, and you'll be just as helpless as the rest of them. Then we can have some real fun."
"Damn it, I shouldn't have listened to Freya," Zidane swore, tightening his grip on the polearm with a quick glance to both of his fallen female cohorts. "How.. No, I definitely don't want to know."
"Oh, but you already do, remember? Just that part of you that you've kept carefully hidden away for a long, long time. Think you can take me on, with that so-called sword of yours? Or are you just gonna sit back and watch?"
"Hmph," Zidane scowled. "You say you're part of me, huh? Well guess what? I'm all of me, and I'm not about to be beaten by myself."
The clone actually stood still for a moment, its circling stopping just long enough for it to decide that it wasn't hearing things wrong. "And to think people'd call me the crazy one.
"If you've got any tricks up our sleeve, I'd suggest pulling them out right about now."
Zidane just remained silent, vague helplessness flashing in his eyes, but still remained in a ready to fight position.
"You know you can't beat me, don't you," the clone sneered. "Hell, I'm not even sure why I'm bothering with you. Just can't believe I'm supposed to be a copy of something that pathetic."
Zidane didn't reply that time either, but he was clearly through just standing around. The Angel Bless rose so quickly it split the air, making a hollow, echoing sound, and, quickly enough to not be noticed until he was near enough to strike, he moved forward.
The clone's reflexes seemed to be identical to the original's, as he dove out of the way of the first attack, parrying as necessary but not making any attacks of his own - yet.
"Is that the best you can do?"
It was about then Zidane realized that, even though they might have been weaker, the pair of short blades at his hip were probably his best chance at winning-- he never had been able to handle polearms as well as his daggers, and the situation seemed to be growing worse by the moment. He tossed the Angel Bless unceremoniously aside, and pulled both his old dagger and the mythril dagger from his belt, but still remained watching his clone.
"Well, at least that's something," the clone smirked. "Maybe now you can keep up with me. Besides - having those'll let me strip your girlfriend down without having to get mine all bloodied."
"Shut *up,*" Zidane snarled, his confidence growing a bit when he felt a familiar sensation begin to grow within him.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," the clone smirked.
"Then you lied," Zidane replied in a soft hiss. "You're not me at all." The build-up released, started to course through his veins, but something felt different. Wrong..
The clone dropped out of his combat stance, letting the energy that Zidane was summoning find a new destination. It had been trying to force this since the Epitaph had been destroyed. The glowing nimbus that tried to form around Zidane was drawn off into his doppleganger, who seemed to become more real and imposing with every passing instant as he drew on the strength at the core of Zidane's soul.
"I told you that was a bad idea," the clone chuckled. "Or didn't you think of what might happen if you tried to call on your soul to fight itself?"
"What are you trying to say? That if either one of us is killed we both die?" Zidane demanded tiredly. Calling on trance took a lot of energy, and it had taken more out of him than usual with the failed effort.
"No. Just that I'm more real than you are now. And I'm about to destroy what's left." With that, the clone flipped one knife back into its sheath, and darted towards his exhausted counterpart.
Zidane tumbled clumsily to the side, so shallowly dodging he was pretty sure he'd sliced some of the fur on his tail. It was obvious he was helpless, though.. The slight movement had obviously been fairly exerting, and it was very unlikely he could even manage to dodge again.
That was the weakness the clone had been waiting for. His next lunge, rather than an attack, was a leap onto Zidane's back. He shifted the knife against the blond youth's throat, and growled his ultimatum.
"Submit, or do I have to kill you first?"
There was silence for a moment. ".If I do, you let them go," Zidane knew he couldn't make his clone promise, much less keep it, but at the moment he wanted some shred of comfort. "Dagger, Freya, Amarant.. Just let them go. They have to go back and save the others."
"I'll let them go," the clone chuckled. "After I've finished what I'm going to start with you." With that, the clone brought the knife down to cut through Zidane's belt easily.
/Nobody likes to fight against himself,/ Kuja's voice mocked Zidane smoothly, echoing through his head. /Though you don't seem to be../ Zidane bit back a growl. That had just been his mind, trying to make things worse. It had to have been.
The clone, though, seemed oblivious to the voice, whether real or imagined. It was too focused on shredding what was left of Zidane's clothes, leaving his ass and crotch exposed to the surprisingly cool air of the complex.
"You know what I'm going to do to you," he almost purred to the weakened thief, pressing his hips - and a hardness that brought a sick feeling to Zidane's stomach - against his body.
Zidane just winced and bit his lip in an increasingly failing attempt to use what bit of strength he had left and throw the duplicate of himself off of him.
"Well, at least you haven't lost all your fight," the clone chuckled, keeping his knife against Zidane's throat as he undid his own pants. "You should know we don't like it when our partners aren't into it. By the way - in case you haven't guessed, this is gonna hurt like hell."
Zidane searched for a retort that wasn't dangerous, but, finding none, simply replied: "Whatever."
The clone chuckled darkly, shifting to a slightly better position, giving Zidane a fraction of a second to recognize the feeling of its shaft pressing against the tight pucker of his ass - then the agony as a series of powerful thrusts split him open, the thick rod of flesh invading him, leaving him completely defenseless before the doppleganger on top of him.
Zidane's exhaustion had already begun to overwhelm him, and both the reality of what was happening and the simply indescribable waves of pain were too much for him. Before he closed his eyes, before he heard no more, there was a quiet whisper in his mind, cruel, but very distantly guilty. /Now you know what I meant, little brother../
~~~===~~~
When Zidane was aware again, the first thing that he recognized was the pain flooding his body. The feeling of something trickling out of his abused body followed - whether it was blood or something else he didn't want to think about. But the memory of what had happened before he blacked out returned despite himself.
"Good - you're awake. I've been waiting for you," his clone smirked.
The thing he tried to do first was open his eyes, and that he accomplished. Sitting up, though, was a task accomplished by pushing himself up and supporting himself with his hands-- and even then he nearly collapsed at the flood of pain in roughly everything between his thighs to about the small of his back. Even his tail throbbed, and he rarely felt anything at all in the furry appendage. He looked reluctantly to where the voice came from and gasped. He'd have said more, but he hadn't gathered his bearings, and what he saw forced the sense he had gathered to a corner of his mind.
"I told you I wouldn't let them go until I was finished," the clone chuckled. "Took me a bit longer to do you than I'd expected, but I just didn't think it'd be right to carry through with every sick little fantasy that you've been shoving into the corners of your head if you weren't awake to watch. Of course, most of them need a little altering to work out.... But that's half the fun. Think it's time for sleeping beauty to wake up," he finished, opening up a bag and pulling out a phoenix down. "What do you think she'll say when she opens her eyes and sees her hero?
"What do you think she'll say when we have our way with her," he smirked.
"H-How many times," Zidane began weakly, his frustration and anger obvious on his face rather than in his voice. "Do I have to tell you you're not me.?"
"But do you think she'll know that," he pointed out, before using the phoenix down to draw the unconscious princess back into the waking world, waiting while her brain tried to register the reality around her again.
Dagger looked at the familiar face abover her and sighed, relaxing slightly. The fight was over, and everything was all right. Then she noticed something didn't seem right - Zidane's expression was colder, crueler than anything she'd seen except on Kuja, and that only a few times. She looked to the side, and saw Amarant and Freya still laying against the wall. She tried turning her head the other way, to see what was going on, but "Zidane" stopped her head before she could see where the real thief was still half-laying.
"What's wrong, Dagger," the clone asked darkly, while her mouth worked silently. "Don't you think I'm entitled to a little private time for all the times I've saved your ass?" He pulled the real Zidane's dagger out, and reached down to start slitting open the front of her blouse while she tried to figure out what was going on - besides that it was something completely at odds with what she knew was supposed to be happening.
"Dagger," Zidane yelled, "that's not me!" He looked at her face for a brief moment, and the hurt, betrayed look was about all it took for him to snap.
Fortunately, hearing the real Zidane seemed to cut down to some part of her mind that knew how to handle this situation, even if it was about the only part of her lessons with Beatrix she could remember. Her hand shot up suddenly, grabbing the relatively loose fabric of the clone's pants. Then her nails dug in.
The clone howled in pain and struck at her wrist with the pommel of his knife, forcing her to let go as he fell back. She took the chance to roll to her feet and run for the rod she'd dropped during the fight.
Getting to his feet and moving around still hurt like hell, but Dagger had bought him enough time to locate his two knives without interference, and, rather than wait, this time he lunged at his clone, not wasting a second that could be put towards attacking.
The first attack was at an advantage, the clone still off-guard and in pain, but it didn't manage to more than cut his arm.
"This time, I'm going to kill you completely," Zidane's doppleganger snarled, grabbing his duplicate knives and leaping for Zidane, trying to knock the injured thief off of his feet as they both stumbled over Amarant's prone form. Dagger watched helplessly, trying to sort out what was happening, and unable to focus enough to realize who was who after a few moments of their struggling.
"Geez," Zidane muttered, hastily hopping to the side when he nearly stumbled over Freya's pike. Actually, though, the movement proved somewhat advantageous when what would have been a block shallowly sliced his clone's left hand.
"You're like a damned cockroach," the clone snarled, kicking the pike to the side unceremoniously and advancing faster than Zidane could move away with the abuse he'd suffered. "I think this time I'll see how my knife fits into you." Suddenly, Dagger ran up behind him, striking him squarely in the side of the head with her rod.
"Bitch," he snarled, spinning and backhanding her, sending her reeling for a moment.
Zidane might have been backing away a moment ago, but he saw his chance once more, and knocked the knife out of his clone's injured hand, then moved to send the other one clattering to the floor. But he made the mistake of forgetting the clone didn't have to be armed to take him down. A kick to Zidane's legs was all it took to knock him down, and the clone quickly had him pinned again, one of Zidane's knives at this throat.
"You had to make it difficult, didn't you," the clone growled, breathing hard. "Well congratulations - you've pissed me off enough I'm finally going to kill you."
"Funny, but most people would call that suicide," Zidane remarked dryly. Then, I'm getting the impression you've never heard the phrase 'an original is better than a copy,' huh?"
"Go fuck yourself - oh, wait - you al-" The retort was cut off by a sharp cry as the front of the clone's chest suddenly sprouted a number of small metal protrusions.
"Didn't I tell you that we have a rematch to fight before you get yourself killed," Amarant muttered, tossing the dead clone off to the side carelessly, and going back to help Dagger heal Freya. "Might want to borrow his pants - they're still in pretty good shape."
~~~Two Years Later~~~
"Zidane, wake up!" Garnet shook his shoulder as he whimpered next to her in their bed, caught in the middle of another of his nightmares.
Zidane jumped, apparently startled at the intervention of the real world, his tail twitching jerkily. But when he looked around, he immediately and visibly calmed down. "Dagger.."
"Shh - it's okay," she said quietly. "Another of the nightmares?"
".Yeah," he admitted reluctantly, with a slight nod. "I don't know why I can't just get over it.."
"Zidane, would you expect me to have completely gotten over everything that's happened so far by now?"
"Well, no, but."
"But what happened to you was worse than anything they did to me," she finished, knowing that's not what he was going to say, but wanting to make her point first. The same point she'd made dozens of times before, before Kuja'd been beaten and after Zidane had come back to her. "You're expecting too much of yourself," she whispered, holding him close to her.
"Maybe I am, but Dagger," he sighed sadly. "The thing is, I want to get on with my life.. I don't want to let this bother me anymore."
"You will get on with your life," she said confidently. "You're doing a lot better than you were at first," she pointed out, remember the stretch of time when he'd been trying to act like nothing had happened. "It just takes time."
"You know," Zidane made a weak attempt at changing the subject. "What really didn't help was Kuja.. He didn't say much, but what he did say confused me."
Garnet sighed, knowing that he was trying to find something, anything else to talk about than what he saw as a failure on his part. Usually she humored him, but tonight she had a feeling she shouldn't do that too much.
"It probably confused you then, but you've got the rest of the story now," she pointed out. "It's better for you to talk about it, Zidane. It does help."
"Dagger, there's not one part of what you didn't see, and all of what you did see, for that matter, that I haven't talked about a hundred times," he protested. "I. I really don't know anymore.."
"Then don't talk about what happened," she said quietly. "Talk about how you're handling it. About how it affected you. I know you're hurting, Zidane, but keeping it inside isn't going to help you get over it."
There was a few moments of silence until Garnet heard something she actually hadn't before.
"You really want the truth, huh?"
She paused for a moment, knowing what she could be getting into, but knowing just as well that it was the best thing for him.
"Yes," she said. "It's the only way I can help you through this."
"Fine," Zidane began, apparently still searching for an escape. ".This doesn't get any easier, Dagger. It gets worse every time I have that dream, and I have no idea why. The memory just gets fresher and more vivid every time.."
"I - I talked to Doctor Tot a few months ago," Garnet admitted. "He said that might happen - but it's actually a good sign. He said that you couldn't remember everything before because your mind was trying to keep you from remembering things it couldn't handle. But he also said once you've started to remember more, you'll be able to forget it easier."
Zidane, who didn't seem to have an answer for that, regarded Dagger with a nod. In spite of the fact he'd actually begun to dread falling asleep, his body was apparently in disagreement with his head and he began to waiver between awake and asleep. What little sleep he'd gotten hadn't entailed rest lately, and the nights they'd sat up like this were beginning to take their toll on both Zidane and Dagger.
"Zidane - I think you should probably go see Doctor Tot," Dagger said softly after a moment. "I think he could help you best, and he already knows what happened...."
".There is that, I guess," Zidane began hesitantly. "You think he could help?"
"At least as much as I can," she smiled slightly. "He knows more about this than anybody else I know."
".Alright, I'll go," Zidane replied after a moment, then smirked. "But Dagger?"
"Yes," she asked, not sure what the unexpected expression on his face meant.
"You know what would *really* help?"
"What," she asked, more confused than before - he usually didn't start acting even remotely cheerful until the next morning, when they had to deal with other people.
"Would you please get Rusty to *stop* the night patrol? It's a surprise either one of us can sleep at all with clanking outside the room every five minutes. Either that or get him an oil can for Christmas."
Garnet sighed and rolled her eyes, shifting to swat the side of his head lightly.
"Get some sleep, Zidane," she chuckled, settling in next to him and holding him close. "But it's good to hear you talking like that when we're alone again."
Disclaimers: FF9 and associated story elements don't belong to us. Though, if Squaresoft (who does own them) really *wanted* to turn them over to a pair of little miscreants like us, who are we to dissuade them?
*hopeful look*
Damn, not working. Oh well - no credit being claimed, no money being made, no lawsuits being filed, right?
Warnings: High R, Slash (m/m sex), Rape (m/m), Violence, M/F Relationships, and Angst (have we *ever* written something without it? Would we disappoint you now?)
Pairings: Zidane/Zidane, Zidane/Dagger
Summary: While escaping from Oeilvert, Zidane and company run into another Epitaph. Problem is, this one produces an unusual clone that does more than it's supposed to..
~~~===~~~
"Zidane," Freya advised tersely, glaring at the seemingly harmless blue statue ahead of them, "watch out!"
"Get Amarant back up," Zidane warned, eying the mirror image of himself. "I don't get how they do it, but these things use death spells that kill their counterparts, and we'll need Amarant to revive."
"Won't work," Freya shook her head. "It knocks them out again when they're barely on their feet!" She spoke in a tone that made Zidane realize she was more concerned with getting rid of the problem as directly as possible. She reached into her pocket, and drew out a small vial of yellow, sticky- looking liquid, and tossed it quickly towards the Epitaph. The glass made a strangely satisfying tinkling noise when it smashed on the stone creature, but the throaty screech of the monster made Zidane and Freya both wince.
As if he'd been waiting for the dragon knight to drop her spear off to the side to throw the vial, Zidane's doppleganger lunged forward, the two powerful dagger-blows sending her flying back into a wall. She slumped to the ground limply, the last attack more than she could take, battered as badly as she already was.
"So - now it's just you and me," the clone smirked, looking at the real Zidane.
Zidane should probably have been more concerned about his current situation than the thought that struck, but none the less he blurted out: "What the hell?!? You actually talk? I thought you just tried to convince us you were someone you weren't!" It sounded unbearably awkward, but when Zidane spoke on impulse he had the tendency to sound strange.
"I've got a bit more free-will than the rest of those jokers did," the clone explained. "I'll have to remember to thank that mouse-bitch later though, for taking out the big guy. After I've taken care of you and your precious princess, that is."
"I thought it was weird you didn't just use that death spell," Zidane muttered under his breath. "What the heck do you *mean?!*"
"Please tell me I'm not that naive," the clone sighed, rolling his eyes as he circled around Zidane. "I'm your mirror image, remember? I think you can guess which ideas you've had that I'm planning on acting on," he smirked.
"Wh-What," Zidane sputtered in a shocked way when the clone's meaning hit him, but made a hasty recovery. "I don't know what the hell your problem is, but leave her alone! Dagger has enough problems right now.. " He shook his head. Nope, no time to feel sorry for anyone right now.
"And just how do you plan on stopping me, hmm? Just have to snap my fingers, and you'll be just as helpless as the rest of them. Then we can have some real fun."
"Damn it, I shouldn't have listened to Freya," Zidane swore, tightening his grip on the polearm with a quick glance to both of his fallen female cohorts. "How.. No, I definitely don't want to know."
"Oh, but you already do, remember? Just that part of you that you've kept carefully hidden away for a long, long time. Think you can take me on, with that so-called sword of yours? Or are you just gonna sit back and watch?"
"Hmph," Zidane scowled. "You say you're part of me, huh? Well guess what? I'm all of me, and I'm not about to be beaten by myself."
The clone actually stood still for a moment, its circling stopping just long enough for it to decide that it wasn't hearing things wrong. "And to think people'd call me the crazy one.
"If you've got any tricks up our sleeve, I'd suggest pulling them out right about now."
Zidane just remained silent, vague helplessness flashing in his eyes, but still remained in a ready to fight position.
"You know you can't beat me, don't you," the clone sneered. "Hell, I'm not even sure why I'm bothering with you. Just can't believe I'm supposed to be a copy of something that pathetic."
Zidane didn't reply that time either, but he was clearly through just standing around. The Angel Bless rose so quickly it split the air, making a hollow, echoing sound, and, quickly enough to not be noticed until he was near enough to strike, he moved forward.
The clone's reflexes seemed to be identical to the original's, as he dove out of the way of the first attack, parrying as necessary but not making any attacks of his own - yet.
"Is that the best you can do?"
It was about then Zidane realized that, even though they might have been weaker, the pair of short blades at his hip were probably his best chance at winning-- he never had been able to handle polearms as well as his daggers, and the situation seemed to be growing worse by the moment. He tossed the Angel Bless unceremoniously aside, and pulled both his old dagger and the mythril dagger from his belt, but still remained watching his clone.
"Well, at least that's something," the clone smirked. "Maybe now you can keep up with me. Besides - having those'll let me strip your girlfriend down without having to get mine all bloodied."
"Shut *up,*" Zidane snarled, his confidence growing a bit when he felt a familiar sensation begin to grow within him.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," the clone smirked.
"Then you lied," Zidane replied in a soft hiss. "You're not me at all." The build-up released, started to course through his veins, but something felt different. Wrong..
The clone dropped out of his combat stance, letting the energy that Zidane was summoning find a new destination. It had been trying to force this since the Epitaph had been destroyed. The glowing nimbus that tried to form around Zidane was drawn off into his doppleganger, who seemed to become more real and imposing with every passing instant as he drew on the strength at the core of Zidane's soul.
"I told you that was a bad idea," the clone chuckled. "Or didn't you think of what might happen if you tried to call on your soul to fight itself?"
"What are you trying to say? That if either one of us is killed we both die?" Zidane demanded tiredly. Calling on trance took a lot of energy, and it had taken more out of him than usual with the failed effort.
"No. Just that I'm more real than you are now. And I'm about to destroy what's left." With that, the clone flipped one knife back into its sheath, and darted towards his exhausted counterpart.
Zidane tumbled clumsily to the side, so shallowly dodging he was pretty sure he'd sliced some of the fur on his tail. It was obvious he was helpless, though.. The slight movement had obviously been fairly exerting, and it was very unlikely he could even manage to dodge again.
That was the weakness the clone had been waiting for. His next lunge, rather than an attack, was a leap onto Zidane's back. He shifted the knife against the blond youth's throat, and growled his ultimatum.
"Submit, or do I have to kill you first?"
There was silence for a moment. ".If I do, you let them go," Zidane knew he couldn't make his clone promise, much less keep it, but at the moment he wanted some shred of comfort. "Dagger, Freya, Amarant.. Just let them go. They have to go back and save the others."
"I'll let them go," the clone chuckled. "After I've finished what I'm going to start with you." With that, the clone brought the knife down to cut through Zidane's belt easily.
/Nobody likes to fight against himself,/ Kuja's voice mocked Zidane smoothly, echoing through his head. /Though you don't seem to be../ Zidane bit back a growl. That had just been his mind, trying to make things worse. It had to have been.
The clone, though, seemed oblivious to the voice, whether real or imagined. It was too focused on shredding what was left of Zidane's clothes, leaving his ass and crotch exposed to the surprisingly cool air of the complex.
"You know what I'm going to do to you," he almost purred to the weakened thief, pressing his hips - and a hardness that brought a sick feeling to Zidane's stomach - against his body.
Zidane just winced and bit his lip in an increasingly failing attempt to use what bit of strength he had left and throw the duplicate of himself off of him.
"Well, at least you haven't lost all your fight," the clone chuckled, keeping his knife against Zidane's throat as he undid his own pants. "You should know we don't like it when our partners aren't into it. By the way - in case you haven't guessed, this is gonna hurt like hell."
Zidane searched for a retort that wasn't dangerous, but, finding none, simply replied: "Whatever."
The clone chuckled darkly, shifting to a slightly better position, giving Zidane a fraction of a second to recognize the feeling of its shaft pressing against the tight pucker of his ass - then the agony as a series of powerful thrusts split him open, the thick rod of flesh invading him, leaving him completely defenseless before the doppleganger on top of him.
Zidane's exhaustion had already begun to overwhelm him, and both the reality of what was happening and the simply indescribable waves of pain were too much for him. Before he closed his eyes, before he heard no more, there was a quiet whisper in his mind, cruel, but very distantly guilty. /Now you know what I meant, little brother../
~~~===~~~
When Zidane was aware again, the first thing that he recognized was the pain flooding his body. The feeling of something trickling out of his abused body followed - whether it was blood or something else he didn't want to think about. But the memory of what had happened before he blacked out returned despite himself.
"Good - you're awake. I've been waiting for you," his clone smirked.
The thing he tried to do first was open his eyes, and that he accomplished. Sitting up, though, was a task accomplished by pushing himself up and supporting himself with his hands-- and even then he nearly collapsed at the flood of pain in roughly everything between his thighs to about the small of his back. Even his tail throbbed, and he rarely felt anything at all in the furry appendage. He looked reluctantly to where the voice came from and gasped. He'd have said more, but he hadn't gathered his bearings, and what he saw forced the sense he had gathered to a corner of his mind.
"I told you I wouldn't let them go until I was finished," the clone chuckled. "Took me a bit longer to do you than I'd expected, but I just didn't think it'd be right to carry through with every sick little fantasy that you've been shoving into the corners of your head if you weren't awake to watch. Of course, most of them need a little altering to work out.... But that's half the fun. Think it's time for sleeping beauty to wake up," he finished, opening up a bag and pulling out a phoenix down. "What do you think she'll say when she opens her eyes and sees her hero?
"What do you think she'll say when we have our way with her," he smirked.
"H-How many times," Zidane began weakly, his frustration and anger obvious on his face rather than in his voice. "Do I have to tell you you're not me.?"
"But do you think she'll know that," he pointed out, before using the phoenix down to draw the unconscious princess back into the waking world, waiting while her brain tried to register the reality around her again.
Dagger looked at the familiar face abover her and sighed, relaxing slightly. The fight was over, and everything was all right. Then she noticed something didn't seem right - Zidane's expression was colder, crueler than anything she'd seen except on Kuja, and that only a few times. She looked to the side, and saw Amarant and Freya still laying against the wall. She tried turning her head the other way, to see what was going on, but "Zidane" stopped her head before she could see where the real thief was still half-laying.
"What's wrong, Dagger," the clone asked darkly, while her mouth worked silently. "Don't you think I'm entitled to a little private time for all the times I've saved your ass?" He pulled the real Zidane's dagger out, and reached down to start slitting open the front of her blouse while she tried to figure out what was going on - besides that it was something completely at odds with what she knew was supposed to be happening.
"Dagger," Zidane yelled, "that's not me!" He looked at her face for a brief moment, and the hurt, betrayed look was about all it took for him to snap.
Fortunately, hearing the real Zidane seemed to cut down to some part of her mind that knew how to handle this situation, even if it was about the only part of her lessons with Beatrix she could remember. Her hand shot up suddenly, grabbing the relatively loose fabric of the clone's pants. Then her nails dug in.
The clone howled in pain and struck at her wrist with the pommel of his knife, forcing her to let go as he fell back. She took the chance to roll to her feet and run for the rod she'd dropped during the fight.
Getting to his feet and moving around still hurt like hell, but Dagger had bought him enough time to locate his two knives without interference, and, rather than wait, this time he lunged at his clone, not wasting a second that could be put towards attacking.
The first attack was at an advantage, the clone still off-guard and in pain, but it didn't manage to more than cut his arm.
"This time, I'm going to kill you completely," Zidane's doppleganger snarled, grabbing his duplicate knives and leaping for Zidane, trying to knock the injured thief off of his feet as they both stumbled over Amarant's prone form. Dagger watched helplessly, trying to sort out what was happening, and unable to focus enough to realize who was who after a few moments of their struggling.
"Geez," Zidane muttered, hastily hopping to the side when he nearly stumbled over Freya's pike. Actually, though, the movement proved somewhat advantageous when what would have been a block shallowly sliced his clone's left hand.
"You're like a damned cockroach," the clone snarled, kicking the pike to the side unceremoniously and advancing faster than Zidane could move away with the abuse he'd suffered. "I think this time I'll see how my knife fits into you." Suddenly, Dagger ran up behind him, striking him squarely in the side of the head with her rod.
"Bitch," he snarled, spinning and backhanding her, sending her reeling for a moment.
Zidane might have been backing away a moment ago, but he saw his chance once more, and knocked the knife out of his clone's injured hand, then moved to send the other one clattering to the floor. But he made the mistake of forgetting the clone didn't have to be armed to take him down. A kick to Zidane's legs was all it took to knock him down, and the clone quickly had him pinned again, one of Zidane's knives at this throat.
"You had to make it difficult, didn't you," the clone growled, breathing hard. "Well congratulations - you've pissed me off enough I'm finally going to kill you."
"Funny, but most people would call that suicide," Zidane remarked dryly. Then, I'm getting the impression you've never heard the phrase 'an original is better than a copy,' huh?"
"Go fuck yourself - oh, wait - you al-" The retort was cut off by a sharp cry as the front of the clone's chest suddenly sprouted a number of small metal protrusions.
"Didn't I tell you that we have a rematch to fight before you get yourself killed," Amarant muttered, tossing the dead clone off to the side carelessly, and going back to help Dagger heal Freya. "Might want to borrow his pants - they're still in pretty good shape."
~~~Two Years Later~~~
"Zidane, wake up!" Garnet shook his shoulder as he whimpered next to her in their bed, caught in the middle of another of his nightmares.
Zidane jumped, apparently startled at the intervention of the real world, his tail twitching jerkily. But when he looked around, he immediately and visibly calmed down. "Dagger.."
"Shh - it's okay," she said quietly. "Another of the nightmares?"
".Yeah," he admitted reluctantly, with a slight nod. "I don't know why I can't just get over it.."
"Zidane, would you expect me to have completely gotten over everything that's happened so far by now?"
"Well, no, but."
"But what happened to you was worse than anything they did to me," she finished, knowing that's not what he was going to say, but wanting to make her point first. The same point she'd made dozens of times before, before Kuja'd been beaten and after Zidane had come back to her. "You're expecting too much of yourself," she whispered, holding him close to her.
"Maybe I am, but Dagger," he sighed sadly. "The thing is, I want to get on with my life.. I don't want to let this bother me anymore."
"You will get on with your life," she said confidently. "You're doing a lot better than you were at first," she pointed out, remember the stretch of time when he'd been trying to act like nothing had happened. "It just takes time."
"You know," Zidane made a weak attempt at changing the subject. "What really didn't help was Kuja.. He didn't say much, but what he did say confused me."
Garnet sighed, knowing that he was trying to find something, anything else to talk about than what he saw as a failure on his part. Usually she humored him, but tonight she had a feeling she shouldn't do that too much.
"It probably confused you then, but you've got the rest of the story now," she pointed out. "It's better for you to talk about it, Zidane. It does help."
"Dagger, there's not one part of what you didn't see, and all of what you did see, for that matter, that I haven't talked about a hundred times," he protested. "I. I really don't know anymore.."
"Then don't talk about what happened," she said quietly. "Talk about how you're handling it. About how it affected you. I know you're hurting, Zidane, but keeping it inside isn't going to help you get over it."
There was a few moments of silence until Garnet heard something she actually hadn't before.
"You really want the truth, huh?"
She paused for a moment, knowing what she could be getting into, but knowing just as well that it was the best thing for him.
"Yes," she said. "It's the only way I can help you through this."
"Fine," Zidane began, apparently still searching for an escape. ".This doesn't get any easier, Dagger. It gets worse every time I have that dream, and I have no idea why. The memory just gets fresher and more vivid every time.."
"I - I talked to Doctor Tot a few months ago," Garnet admitted. "He said that might happen - but it's actually a good sign. He said that you couldn't remember everything before because your mind was trying to keep you from remembering things it couldn't handle. But he also said once you've started to remember more, you'll be able to forget it easier."
Zidane, who didn't seem to have an answer for that, regarded Dagger with a nod. In spite of the fact he'd actually begun to dread falling asleep, his body was apparently in disagreement with his head and he began to waiver between awake and asleep. What little sleep he'd gotten hadn't entailed rest lately, and the nights they'd sat up like this were beginning to take their toll on both Zidane and Dagger.
"Zidane - I think you should probably go see Doctor Tot," Dagger said softly after a moment. "I think he could help you best, and he already knows what happened...."
".There is that, I guess," Zidane began hesitantly. "You think he could help?"
"At least as much as I can," she smiled slightly. "He knows more about this than anybody else I know."
".Alright, I'll go," Zidane replied after a moment, then smirked. "But Dagger?"
"Yes," she asked, not sure what the unexpected expression on his face meant.
"You know what would *really* help?"
"What," she asked, more confused than before - he usually didn't start acting even remotely cheerful until the next morning, when they had to deal with other people.
"Would you please get Rusty to *stop* the night patrol? It's a surprise either one of us can sleep at all with clanking outside the room every five minutes. Either that or get him an oil can for Christmas."
Garnet sighed and rolled her eyes, shifting to swat the side of his head lightly.
"Get some sleep, Zidane," she chuckled, settling in next to him and holding him close. "But it's good to hear you talking like that when we're alone again."