Kuja Garland stared scornfully over the frozen landscape that was Terra, grunting slightly. "I can't believe I returned to this place, but...Soon, Soon the power will be mine alone," he whispered, and then paused, his senses picking up something......almost familiar.
With a frown he started for Bran Bal, careful not to let any of the Genomes see him, lest they report it to his dear little sister, Mikato, who'd report him to Garland.
Somehow, it failed to surprise him to find his senses leading him to Pandemonium.
He was silent for a moment, studying the entrance. He had no good memories of this place, and no real inclination to return. 'I don't OWE anyone anything, there's no reason to go inside,' he told himself. With that thought to comfort him, he started to turn away.
An abrupt, almost pleading sensation ran from the base of his neck to the tip of his tail, nearly knocking him over, ending all internal argument. He swallowed once, and stepped through the gates of hell.
The halls of Garland's haunted castle had changed little from what he remembered, still filled with an overwhelming sense of wrongness, somehow tripled by what was reaching for him, still that disturbing sensation of being watched by the many sleeping souls, still the same rainbow color scheme, that looked like some toddler had gone crazy with an artists pallet, and perfumed with an ugly, sulfuric smell.
He was forced to avoid contact with a few of Zidane's little friends as they searched for something. He dearly hoped they did not seek the same entity, though he had to applaud their courage for coming down here.
The gates opened in front of him, then snapped closed with a clang, he was close enough now to pick up more concrete emotions. Pain, confusion, horror, the overwhelming sense of anger and unjustness poured into his mind.
He was not altogether surprised when he found his little brother; strapped to the chair he remembered oh-so-well from 12 years ago, when Garland had tried to wipe his memory and personality away.
A strange, uncertain feeling welled in his chest as he stopped a few feet shy of the chair. Empathy, Understanding. His mind identified.
He long ago convinced himself that he wasn't made to feel. 'Oh, Zidane'… He thought 'What has he done?'
Thought become action before he could even consider the ramifications, and in a move that would haunt him for years to come, Kuja Garland stepped forward and flicked off the machine, taking the battered body into his arms.
Glazed blue eyes opened and stared at him.
Kuja held him breath, fearing….rejection?
A soft whimper left Zidane's throat, tears filtering over the blue orbs, he sniffed softly, then buried his face in Kuja's stomach, clinging to him like a drowning man clings to a life preserver.
His shell, one that had taken 12 careful years of forbidding himself to feel, crumbled into a million tiny pieces.
He made a soft sound, half torn between surprise and an attempt to comfort the distraught child.
Sobbing softly, still clinging, the battered Gnome tried to explain mentally what had happened, but he might as well have been speaking a different language for all the sense he was making.
He made another soft sound, stroking Zidane's hair softly. "Sh….It will be alright…Sh…I won't let him hurt you…" Kuja whispered, rocking slowly back and forth.
The grate he had passed through was thrown open with a resounding crash, admitting the small summoner and a black mage.
Zidane flinched against his chest, clearly terrified.
Kuja lifted his head to glare at the new arrivals, mentally crooning.
The little summoner gasped, flinching back a step before she railed her courage. "You get away from Zidane right now you…..you!!"
Kuja glanced down at the child cradled in his arms, feeling through the inexplicable link that Zidane did not wish to be around the small summoner, or any of his other friends. A soft plea entered his mind.
Kuja made another comforting sound, gaining a weird look from the strangely alert Black Mage.
(Away, Away, away!) Zidane battered mind chanted almost prayerfully.
"It appears Zidane does not wish for your comforting advances, you will be the first I will inform when he decides he does," Kuja said, unable to keep the slight sneer out of his tone, as he stood, the still drastically weakened boy in his arms.
"What did you do to him?!?!?" The summoner demanded, hopping up and down. "You better not have-"
"I did nothing to him," Kuja cut her off icily. "Garland is responsible for his current condition; I have only come to his aid."
The little summoner had no time to gather her thoughts to shout anything else, because the Weapons Dealer and Zidane had vanished without a trace.
Kuja watched him sleep, his arms crossed a crossed his chest with his tail twitching slowly back and forth. "What is it about you that opens Pandora's box so easily?" he mused aloud.
Zidane shifted in his sleep, knocking one of the pillows holding him in place askew.
Kuja rose, tucking it back without a thought, and then frowned at his hands like they betrayed him. "What am I doing?" He whispered, squeezing his hands into fists. "Where did all my hate go? What happened to me?" he looked at the sleep child. "What did you do?"
Zidane woke a few days later from an uneasy sleep, unable to understand the smoothly arching ceiling above him or the soft, heavy blankets wrapped around him. He tried to turn his head, but found it wedged in between two pillows to keep him from rolling off the bed. He grunted softly, feeling weak, helpless and disoriented.
"You're awake, good," a voice said to his right, and then Kuja's face loomed over his.
For a moment, he panicked.
As though understanding his dilemma, Kuja froze, looking at him with a wry expression on his face.
"You saved me.....In Pandemonium," Zidane said weakly, after a moment.
"That's right." Kuja replied, with a small nod.
"Why...?" Zidane asked in a choked voice.
"You nearly turned my head inside out bringing me there," Kuja replied flippantly, rising. "You're very persistent, especially for someone who was having his mind wiped by Garland at the time."
"How did you..." Zidane began.
"Know you talked to Garland? Well, besides being strapped to a chair in his castle, and guessing from the state of emotional shock your mind was in when I got to you, you talk in your sleep." Kuja finally looked directly at him, offering a slim smile.
"Garland said you hated me, that's why you dumped me on Gaia......." Zidane said softly, turning his eyes away.
Kuja leaned back a little, seeming thoughtful. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure what I was feeling 12 years ago," he said honestly "I was upset, yes, that Garland wanted to replace me, but that was also after I had my experience with that thing he had you hooked up to, so my emotional and mental state wasn't the best, I for you," he said, with the air of someone trying to figure out an emotion. "I did not want you to be in danger, it was easier, I suppose, to allow him to assume I hated you and got rid of you so as to keep my position."
Zidane blinked, having not expected this depth of emotion from his one-time enemy. "You were trying to protect me?"
"I suppose you could call it that," Kuja said, screwing his face up. "I hardly know what I was thinking when I stole you from the lab…just that I needed to leave….and for some reason couldn't bring myself to leave you behind."
"Why DID you leave me?" he asked softly, gripping the blankets in his hands.
"Zidane, you were only a year old when I stole you away from Garland and left Terra. I didn't know the first things about babies or how to take care of them," Kuja said, frustration entering his tone. "And I was hardly mentally stable at the time as it was."
"Why don't I remember anything from Terra?" Zidane asked in a quiet voice.
"You were just a year old, Zidane. You could hardly be expected to remember something like that, besides, I'm sure you found much more entertaining things to fill your head with."
Zidane sighed and rubbed the blanket between his fingers. "Where are we?" He asked after a long moment of silence between them.
"We're back on Gaia, in Desert Palace, you've been asleep for the past four days." Kuja told him, standing and pouring a glass of water before returning to the bed. "Here."
Zidane gratefully accepted the glass, sipping the water so as not to overwhelm his parched throat. "Has anything happened while we've been here?" He asked, once his thirst was sated.
"Not here, and not on Terra, as far as I can tell," Kuja answered, sitting back down and crossing his arms, surveying Zidane with a critical eye. "How do you feel?"
Zidane winced, quickly looking away.
"Look, Zidane, its better if you talk to me, as much as we both detest the idea, I'm all you have right now," Kuja said, frowning slightly.
"My head hurts and I'm confused." Zidane finally stated truthfully, looking at his…. Brother? Friend? Enemy? He was somehow no longer sure where he stood with Kuja. "I'm not sure why you're helping me or if I even deserve help. I don't know who I am or where I belong. Nothing makes sense anymore."
"You are still who you were before. What Garland told you can never change that, Zidane," Kuja replied, eyes softening for the briefest moment.
Zidane swore he must have imagined it.