Final Fantasy X: Revisited

Disclaimer: These guys aren't mine. I wish, really. But I can still use them, hehe.

Chapter 8: Caveat

Bruce's eyes flew open with a start, his chest expanding heavily. His hair was seeming to have drowned in buckets of sweat and was sticking sickly to his head. His head was pounding. 'Where...am I?' Placing an unsteady hand there, he received his first shock.

He was in his pajamas. He was laying down in his bed. Actually, he was in his room, back in his world.

"What!" He half-shouted to himself, swinging his legs to a sitting position on the edge of his bed. What was going on? He was just on the boat, with Rikku. Right? His vision slowly grew adjusted to the dark light, and he could see more clearly. 'I was there…I was there!' Wasn't he? All of the things that happened, they had to be real. It was too vivid, too…concrete. Maybe….

His eyes became dark.

Maybe it was all made up. Just a dream. All in his head. Maybe he was going crazy.

Groaning, he tilted his head back, allowing his heartbeat to slow down. Clear your head, Bruce. Relax, feel your movements. He began to calm down. How could all of that been fake? He was there, he felt the weight of the weapon in his hands as he fought the sinspawn. Feel the weight of the clothing, lighter now. There was no way it all could have been a dream. He felt the scrapes of running from Sin's attacks, and there is no pain in a dream. Right? Feel the carpet under you. Focus your mind. And he was sore. Actually, very sore. There was no way it was just him going crazy. 'Mom always said it would happen,' Bruce thought with a light chuckle. But, then, why was he in his room again? It doesn't make any sense. Shaking his head slightly, he started. "This can't be—"

"Be real?"

The childlike voice behind him made him jump near out of his skin, as Bruce let out a choked cry and catapulted himself across the small room. "Holy crap!" he shouted as his heart leapt up to his throat and began to pound hard again in his chest. He spun around to see who yelled at him, but as soon as he began to turn his head he was met with bright light emanating from the source of the voice. Using his hand as a shield, he waited until his eyes adjusted before he saw where the voice came from. When he saw, part of him visibly sagged.

There, sitting on his bed, was a young boy in a purple robe, swinging his tanned feet casually over the side. He had a grin on his face.

"Jesus, kid," Bruce said, his nerves clearly getting wrecked with the surprises. "You could have just as easily knocked, you know," he said sarcastically, placing one hand on his waist. The boy merely kept swinging his legs, not answering him. "So, I'm right? This isn't my real bedroom?"

The boy's legs stopped swinging, and with a small push he landed on his feet in front of Bruce. "That's correct," he said. "This is not your bedroom."

Bruce looked at the Fayth confused, expecting him to go on. But, the child merely stood there, staring back at him from under the heavy hood of the robe. Bruce continued. "So, if I'm not in my room, then why am I…in my room? Moreso, if this isn't my room, then where is it?" He asked, stressing the last part. This wasn't making any sense anymore.

The child gestured with his hand. "This is a place where I would be able to talk to you the most freely." He walked slowly around, taking in all of Bruce's room seemingly with awe while he continued talking. "This area is in your mind, a place you have created with your own personal feeling. A safepoint, a place where you are the most comfortable, where you are at the most peace."

"Okay…" Bruce looked around him. It was his room, alright, down to the small DVD collection in the corner and the array of posters adorning his walls. "So, this is in my mind, right?" he asked, emitting a nod from the Fayth. "So, why am I here, and not half-drowning in some ocean? I did jump in after Sin, right?"

"You are here because there are things that I need to tell you before you continue with your…story," the faith says, with a hint of sadness in his voice. "You must remember, Bruce, that this is not your story, and you must follow the journey set before you."

Bruce remembered. It was why he knew so much about what was happening; he'd seen it before. "Yes, I remember that, but what does that have—"

"It seems that your presence here has already affected the balance between your reality and this one."

Bruce gave a big sigh, and sat down cross-legged on the soft carpet underneath him. "Okay, why don't you fill me in a bit more on what you're talking about."

The Fayth turned his back to Bruce, his voice now carrying an extraordinarily large amount of weight. "By coming onto this plane of reality, it seems that it is impossible for the path to unravel exactly how things were planned. Your thread, interwoven with the other heroes, has changed your meaningfulness—" he turned back to Bruce with his fists clenching beside him, "—no, your necessity to the journey. There is no turning back from what you must do."

Bruce was utterly confused. "Okay, so what has changed? Is there some sort of extra boss or something?"

"Bruce, you are now responsible for protecting your party, at all costs. The story must be completed."

Before Bruce could respond, the Fayth threw up his hands, palms outstretched. As his sleeves rolled back to his upper arms, a large orb hovered above him. Slowly gaining speed, the orb moved and spun until it flattened out into an oval shape. Bruce's eyes widened as he looked at the growing disc, not being able to look away. Actually, he couldn't. 'Not again…' he thought, as he felt his body lock in place, and he could do nothing but stare at it. It looked like what appeared to be a mirror. At least, the shape and size looked to be some sort of mirror. Only, the border was white light, and the middle was…

Bruce couldn't believe it. He was looking at himself. Only, this was…

He remembered now. The picture he was looking at in the mirror was Zanarkand, shortly after the stadium got attacked. He was in his full gear, and he was looking down at Tidus and Auron, in the middle of a conversation. He watched himself grab onto a loose cable hanging over the ledge he was on, and giving a quick 'hail Mary' began to repel down.

He remembered seeing the sinspawn approaching Tidus from behind. He remembered taking out his swallow from behind him, and aiming carefully at the fiend. He saw himself hurling, albeit clumsily, the swallow from his hand and hearing the sickening crunch as it lodged into the faith, pyreflies emerging from the huge cut.

Then, the picture in the disc shifted. The colors began to blend and change until there was only a blur of motion. As soon as it began the picture settled, and he saw another past version of him. This time, he was in the ruins, fighting the sinspawn. Tidus was there, and so was Rikku.

Rikku made a move, quickly going in front of the monster and making one slash after another. Bruce remembered this well. He had been very tired after that, and that was right before he got butted in the head. Pushing that memory out of his head, he kept focus on the picture in front of him.

The fiend began to thrash wildly. Striking out at all angles, and Bruce saw for the first time Rikku get struck with one of the fiend's sharp appendages. He felt himself grimace as it made it's way straight into her chest, and she collapsed, a wave of pyreflies dancing all around her as she sank slowly onto the ground. He then saw himself run to her side, mutter something, and place a blue vial into her mouth.

The Fayth, who was quiet before, spoke with a booming voice that seemed to strike into Bruce's mind. "Because of your actions,the two heroes are still alive. The story is changing, altering itself around you. You saved their lives because the story needed you to. It is very important now that you do not take this for granted."

Bruce gaped. His mouth could move now, but every time he tried to say something, he shut it again. 'I…saved their lives?' "But that wasn't in the…you're saying that I changed the story?" Bruce could hardly believe it. He saved their lives. If he hadn't killed the fiend, if he hadn't given Rikku the potion….He shuddered. Saving lives wasn't a part of this. He was just the extra guy, the guy that wasn't needed. This was…insane. "I'm not a hero, though."

"You must be, now."

"So, how will the story end?"

"That will be up to you now."

Great. Just great. So, now most of what he knew from the game would have to be thrown right out the window.

As if he read his mind, the Fayth spoke, now facing him with his hands still supporting outstretched. "The path will be different, but the result will still be the same. You must still defeat the enemy, and you must still be alive for you to return to your own world."

Your own world. Did he really want to do that? Bruce stared at the disc. It seemed to be getting larger and larger.

"Now, it is time for you to return. Be diligent, and live." The Fayth said these words loudly now, as the orb above him began to glow with a radiant light. Bruce could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as wind from an unknown source began to stir around the room.

"What's going on?" Bruce shouted at the child, as he picked himself off the ground. The ground underneath him started to shake as he stood, unsteadily spreading his feet. "Where the hell am I going?"

The orb became much larger, much brighter, as it began to move towards Bruce, the bright borders becoming giving off an eerie gold light. If Bruce was scared before, he was jumping out of his skin now. He felt his feet become lighter, lighter, until he found himself floating above ground a few inches. A strangled shout was all he could muster before the orb expanded above him, stretched down around him and sealing him inside.

His hands began to tingle. Actually, all of him began to tingle. He looked down at his body, and saw that, indeed, a small blue ray of light as wrapping itself around him, slowly moving in a spiral. 'What is…' he thought to himself, as the winds picked up, a sharp howl in his ears. So loud. He felt the sliver of light come to rest on his ankles, burning a little, but not enough to hurt him.

Suddenly, it sprang to life, exploding in a brilliant outburst of energy. His feet jerked involuntarily as he felt something weighing down on them. Bruce's eyes grew wider as he saw both of his feet engulfed in the energy burst, seeming to form itself to them. When the light faded, he noticed that he was wearing his black boots, from when he jumped into the whirlpool. The light traveled upward to his waist, and shot out more energy, which made Bruce's entire body spasm with shock. His red shorts were there now, instead of his Spongebob boxers.

"It didn't have to be so painful, you know!" Bruce shouted at his entrapment, sure that the Fayth heard him from outside the sphere of light. Onward it went, to his torso, where he felt the weight of the black shirt and red vest cover him. He was sure he felt his swallow holstered on his back, too. But, he was too awed to notice. The light moved to his head, where it softly placed the red bandana around his black tresses, holding them in place from the steadily increasing winds.

Bruce knew this procedure. He would be sucked into the sphere, probably back to Besaid Island, where he would meet up with Tidus and Wakka. Everything was going according to—

His entire body suddenly was submerged in water, filling the entire sphere, and some filling his lungs with the surprise. It was as if he was just dropped in, the force of it winding him unexpectedly. All sound was cut short as his ears filled with water instantly, the wind's cry muted.

Bruce immediately began to flail his arms and legs around him, trying to find some bearings. His eyes burned with the sudden onslaught of water in them, and he used an arm to brush them, trying in vain to stop the burn. He painfully opened an eye, and saw that he was, in fact, underwater. The sphere, his bedroom, and the child were gone. All he could see was the water in around him, and a soft light above him.

'Oh, so no easy going, huh?' he thought to himself as he began to swim to the surface in the sky blue water. At least, he thought it was the surface he was going towards. He struggled to keep his cool as he swam towards the light. Part of him wanted to panic, he was winded and he had little energy. The other half was the one swimming now. The one that acted only on instinct. The one that only swam. His whole body hurt. Gotta keep moving.

Pushing that out of his mind, he got closer to the light. His eyes grew heavy with fatigue, his entire body seemed to be crying out with every movement he made. 'I better get a break soon, this is crazy,' he thought to himself as consciousness began to fade slightly. The light was so close. Just a few more seconds and…

He broke from the surface with a loud splash and a gasp for air. His lungs felt like they were on fire as he gulped in the precious air. "That…kid…is in serious trouble," he gasped out as he felt his lungs returning to normal. Overall, he wasn't a good swimmer. He alwaysused up too much energy, and he was feeling the pull of fatigue overcoming his senses. No, just a little longer. His vision blurred, but he thought he saw some land about 50 feet away.

He began to swim, but his body retorted as soon as he began to move. "Man, am I out of shape," he uttered, grimacing. The tide appeared to be going in, anyways. Maybe he could just ride it out for a while...

He didn't know how long he spent wading in the water before he felt his feet hitting the sandy floor. With a twinge of pain and a small curse, he waded towards the beach, his entire body weighed down with the wet clothing and the weapon on his back. 'It was lighter the first time,' he thought to himself as he drudged to the beach. His body was working on only adrenaline now, and was quickly dissipating. With a groan, he took a shaky step forward.

His body couldn't take any more, however, so his step only led him face first in the sandy ground. He didn't even have enough strength to grunt as the adrenaline he was working on left him completely. He felt sleep overtake him, almost at once.

The next thing he remebered, he heard voices around him. What were they saying…? He couldn't piece it together, they were muffled and quiet. He thought he heard multiple sharp thwacks of wood being struck together. His eyes fluttered open.

He was no longer at the beach, it seemed. He was in a tent, secure in a bed. He slowly shook his head, trying to get rid of some of the dizziness. With his vision slowly focusing, he had a closer look around. The tent was light, with the sun entering in from the red flap in front of him and piercing the fabric all around him. He was lying down in a makeshift cot, and his belongings were perched on a shelf above his head. Around him were nine other cots, all with the same shelves above them. His was the only one occupied, it seemed. Outside, he heard a lot of commotion; there were shouts he heard, and it seemed that there were a lot of people. Where was he?

He sat up, and noticed that his strength had returned. "I feel great!" He exclaimed, stretching his arms out above his head. Whoever found him had to be thanked for his treatment, whatever it was. He also noticed that he was no longer wearing his clothes. Instead, he was wearing a faded white shirt and some light cotton pants. "Ugh…except for this outfit," he muttered sullenly. "Where are my clothes?"

A shift at the tent opening averted his eyes. Standing there was a young girl in a simple white dress. Bruce didn't recognize her, but she seemed to be the one who took care of patients here. She had more than a few vials cradled in her hands, and it looked like she was having trouble with them. "Ooh…" she whispered quietly. The vials were beginning to fall through her hold.

Bruce moved quickly, he saw she needed some help. "Woah, now," he said with a laugh, and moved to the girl, taking some of the loose vials threatening to fall between her fingers. "That's quite a stash you have there. Throwing a party?" He asked, jokingly. He didn't know where he was, might as well make a first impression.

The girl blushed and looked at the floor, a small smile on her face. She was a cutie, albeit not the kind that stands out immediately. Her hair was worn partly up in a bun on her head. The rest cascaded in golden waves down to the small of her back. She definitely looked the nurse's type; she had very light, kind brown eyes that seemed to shimmer with intelligence. Overall, she seemed the quiet type, and the way she looked shyly at the ground helped accentuate that. "A party? No, these are for patients," she replied with a soft, timid voice. "How…how are you feeling?" she asked, looking up at Bruce worriedly.

Bruce set the vials on the nearby table in a small pile. "Oh, I'm right as rain! A hundred percent, thanks," he said, wiping his hands together self-consciously. "Are…are you the one who rescued me from the beach?"

The girl looked at him surprised, then she let out a tiny giggle. "No, I only tended to you here in the tent. I did receive the honor of changing your clothes though." Her eyes remained soft, but he thought a spark of mischeif hit them momentarily.

Bruce gawked openly. 'Wow, so I guess she wasn't as shy as I thought.' "Oh?" he had a hard time keeping himself from getting embarrassed. He already felt his face getting warmer. Did she really see...him? Oh man…. "So, erh, where exactly am I?" he asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

Before she had a chance to answer, a gruff voice answered from outside. "You're about a day's walk from the Mi'hen Highroad," it said. Bruce looked past the girl to see a man standing in the doorway. He looked gruff in appearance, and his well-built body didn't hurt the fact either. He was built like a tank, with massive biceps and a chest to match. He was wearing what looked to be a soldier's uniform. A white breastplate with bright golden stripes on the top and the bottom adorned his chest, with three large medals on the right side and multiple smaller badges on the left. It went down to where his ribcage ended, where it gave way to a tight-fitting gray elastic bodysuit, coming down to around his legs. From there, white leather pants fit snug to his thighs and down to the mid-calf. Glistening white boots continued downwards from there, seeming to have been smudged a bit from use.

The man smiled at him with steel blue eyes and a hard stubbled chin. "The name's Turk, 1st class officer knight," he belted proudly, extending a hand to Bruce. "A scout found your body washed up on shore. We brought your body here," he grabbed Bruce's now extended hand and shook it firmly, "to our encampment."

"My name's Bruce," he said, somewhat intimidated from Turk's aggressive behavior. Either that, or the sheer size of the man, but either way he was nervous."Thanks for keeping me alive…sir," he added as an afterthought. Turk seemed to be pleased at it and abruptly hit Bruce jokingly on his back.

"Ha, it's no problem at all. We get all kinds of people here, and we were hoping that you'll want to join our ranks too," he said, half-pushing Bruce towards the tent opening. "This...is the Crusaders' command center," he said, pointing to the outside commotion. Bruce's breath caught.

It was a huge training center. Everywhere he looked he saw rows and rows of people, all in different sections. The section in front of him, and perhaps the biggest section, had twenty long rows of young men, and even some women, all with sticks in their hands. They looked like they were doing sword drills, by the way they all moved in near-perfect unison.Occasionally one person would slip up a motion, in which case an officer cracked a wooden staff sharply against their backs, emitting a wince from both them and Bruce. To the right of them he saw a smaller group of people, all in a circle. Most of them were women, but a few men were with them, all sitting in a circle. They looked to be looking at a woman in the center, talking softly to them. There was little noise coming from that area, more like they were meditating. Right of them was a circular ring; it didn't seem to be used at the moment, but it looked like a close combat training area. To the left of the drillers, a wide variety of wooden crates were strewn all around. He could see a boy blindfolded, hopping from crate to crate. That area seemed to be training for dexterity or memory. He guessed.

There was much more there, but before he looked any further, Turk's rough voice jerked him out of his surveying. "So...I noticed that you had a weapon with you when you were taken in. A pretty unique-looking one, too," he said, looking at Bruce pointedly. "You know, if you know how to use it, you would be a great help to us. We have a plan, you know, to finally put an end to Sin once and for all. We're not even requiring you to be a Yevonite at this point, we just need skilled soldiers. We'll probably all get the boot for this anyways, but if it works..."

Bruce began to assess things as Turk continued to speak to him. 'I guess I'm not with Tidus. I'm not even close.' He was at Mi'hen, right smack in the middle of Spira. Not only that, but he was separated from Tidus, and the storyline he was used to. This must be part of what the Fayth was talking about. Nodding his head, Bruce looked back at the girl, who was still looking at the ground. "Are you part of this operation too?" he asked her.

The girl, startled, nodded her head, smiling at him. "Yes, I'm training to be a white mage, so I can help people on the battlefield when Sin arrives. I…" her eyes glanced wistfully at the vials next to her. "I have a long way to go before I can become a First Class Mage. But, I'm learning."

Bruce smiled at her, then looked back to Turk. "So, you want me to join the Crusaders?" he asked Turk, who in turn crossed his arms in front of him, grunting an affirmed 'yes'. 'Well, I really have nowhere else to go, and I do need to get trained.' Who was he kidding, he had no idea how to use that swallow. Some training would do him good. Besides, he would always meet up with Tidus and the guardians at the battlefront. His eyes lit up at Turk, and he extended his hand to him. "Sure. Whatever will help stop Sin, I'll try to be a Crusader." Who knew he'd ever say those words?

Turk's chiseled expression brightened, and he let out a curt grunt of approval as he grabbed Bruce's hand, shaking it with enthusiasm. "Good to hear. You are now an unofficial member of the Crusaders." He put a gloved hand to his head, saluting in military fashion. "I will give you the day to relax, but come tomorrow you will be tested for your class, and initiated into the full-fledged training of the Crusaders. Get some rest," he said, smiling over his shoulder as he left the tent. "You'll need it."

A/N: Okay, here it is, finally! Crazy writer's block, but I cranked it out. Call it a Christmas gift to you guys. Hope I still have an audience out there…anyways, read and reply, I'll try to get another chapter out sooner then the last one…oh, and don't worry. I'm not going to change the story that much. Not an AU here, I'll stick close, I promise. Thanks for reading!