A/N: see after the fic. It just needs to be there.

Chapter 11 - Memories

Not yet.

No, he hadn't left, nor did he think it possible to leave. But it was heavily weighing on his mind and he could no longer ignore it, most especially now as he sat in the chair across from her bed, listening to her labored breathing as Filia slept. It was night, and there was no moon, giving little light, but his eyes needed no light to see, and he could see her face clearly. Sweat glistened on her skin, and her head tossed and turned. She was dreaming again. The same dreams every night for almost a month.

Their effects were taking their toll on her; though she slept, she never looked rested. She walked around as though she were in a daze. She lacked the motivation to do anything, and had to be forced out of bed in the morning. As loathe as he was to admit it, he was worried. And he blamed himself.

It was a mistake, letting her stay there. He had been fine without her. He had been perfectly miserable, but that was fine with him. He was still miserable, but in a different, less tolerable way…she consumed him. Consumed every bit of his thoughts, his actions, and his whole purpose for existing. After all, what other purpose for existing did he have? Who, exactly, did he have to report back to after the chaos was wrought? Chaos was just not as fun anymore, especially when he had only to give one glance at his favorite source of entertainment to realize that she was already in enough turmoil. And it was his fault.

Not that he'd done anything recently, of course…but she was remembering. He knew it would happen eventually. Memories like the ones she held deep inside of her, struggling to break free, were of the sort that should never be remembered, but were terribly hard to forget. And it was amazing that she hadn't remembered them before. But the memories were manifesting themselves in her dreams. And once she realized them for what they truly were, he had no doubt that literally all hell would break loose.

Of course, he'd never had the chance to explain himself back then, either. No, everything had happened so fast. Both of them had acted so hastily…on several occasions, but none so significantly as the end, when she had taken the knife she found in the kitchen, believing Val to be dead, and had attacked the only person in the room who, in her belief, could have committed that crime.

He hadn't killed Val, but he hadn't been able to tell her that, not in her state of mind. Val had not even been dead. The boy had cut himself on the knife while peeling an apple, and the wound had been fairly deep enough. At the time Filia had walked in the door, Val had been down at the stream washing his hand.

He sighed, his mind brought back to the present by a soft cry from the current Filia, asleep and in the terrifying world of her nightmare. She was dreaming of that same moment, when in her mind all she could see was the image of her beloved adopted son lying somewhere broken and bloodied and beyond recognition, killed by those who would have his blood for the sins he committed in his past life.

He doubted that she remembered the circumstances surrounding that event. Unfortunately, his memory was perfect. For a moment, he allowed himself to drift back to a time when he had not been quite as miserable.

**flashback**

Another war.

The news of this should have made him happy; after all, he gained so much publicity during the last war and had rather enjoyed himself. The mayhem, the chaos, the bloodshed. Not to mention negative tensions running at an all-time high. Fear, pain, anger, hatred, all the most delicious ones, and all free for the taking. He never felt so alive, so invigorated, and so full of energy as he did when there was a war.

So why did he feel, instead, as though he were dreading it?

He vaguely heard his master telling him that he had some time off to prepare himself for battle, as this time it would most likely be to the death of one side or the other, the gods or the monsters, and may very well perhaps mean the destruction of both. He also vaguely noted that she sounded neither happy nor frightened of this fact, but he was more concerned with how to break the news of the second war to someone else…

***

However, when he arrived at Filia's small cottage, he was certain that she'd heard about it already.

Perhaps a good clue was that the second he arrived, a rather large flower vase just barely missed connecting with his head. A second later, a very distraught dragon maiden had a fistful of his shirt and was screaming in his face.

"WHY DID YOU LET THIS HAPPEN???!!!!"

"I had no choice, Filia, dear," he replied as calmly as ever. "Do you honestly think I make all the decisions? You forget, I'm not a dark lord, I'm just a lowly associate."

She backed down a little, but didn't let go of his shirt. "You still could have…I don't know…argued with them?"

He smirked. "And I wouldn't be standing here right now if I did. Amazing how that works."

"Of course, how could I forget, you're in it only for yourself, and no one else."

"No, I'm in it for my master and no one else. She did give me time to prepare, you know…I'm assuming she meant that to be 'time to tell the little woman' and prepare you."

"Prepare me? Prepare me for what?"

He gave her a look. "Filia, darling, were you alive during the last war?"

She shook her head.

"I rest my case. You might have heard plenty from others who were alive during the war. But hearing and experiencing are two different things."

She finally let go of his shirt and sat down, holding her head in her hands. She looked as though she were about to cry. He didn't want to see that, as much as he professed to be indifferent to the tears of a woman, it was still uncomfortable. So he fixed them both a cup of tea and sat down across from her. He folded his hands in front of him, relaxing them on the table and looking at her squarely.

"It won't be easy," he said, not wasting any time. "You know that and I know that. Master knows that, as well, since she knows about this little fling we've been having. It doesn't bother her, you know…I've always had odd tastes and she figures that if it keeps me busy, then she won't have me underfoot when there's nothing to do. However…" he took a sip of his tea for dramatic effect. "I'll certainly be busy now."

"Busy killing…my people…" she mumbled.

"You knew one day it would happen again. I knew it…I just didn't know it would be this soon. This, what we had, was fun for awhile, Filia, but reality has set in yet again."

She looked at him with a terrible, pained look in her eyes. "Will you…will you…have to kill me?"

He smiled at her, actually smiled, which surprised her. "Of course not. You won't be in this war, will you?"

She hesitated, and his eyes darkened. In an instant, he understood.

"They've asked you to join them." It was a statement, not a question.

She nodded.

"I see. And what did you say?"

"I told them I would think about it."

Somehow, this didn't surprise him. "After they betrayed you, and all that you stood for, you would join them again?"

"They're my people."

"They would gladly risk your life for their own gain."

"And also would your people do the same for you, Xelloss."

"True, but – "

"No. Just stop. I told them that I would think about it, but if it's what I decide to do, then so be it. Don't ask me to not fight…I will not - could not ask you to step down from what you believe to be your duty."

"So that's it, then. We're to become enemies once more."

She didn't reply, only stared down at her cooling cup of tea that she had yet to touch.

"Drink your tea," he said, taking the last swig of his.

He wanted to ask her how she really felt about the whole situation…apparently she was angry…perhaps angry at herself for even thinking about rejoining the people who had shunned her. He didn't trust them, and didn't know why she all of a sudden did. What about Val? Were the Golds suddenly forgiving of the boy's past life? They hadn't been the last time he'd checked. His race could care less, though he had never been able to convince Filia of this.

He knew it would be a mistake to keep seeing her on a regular basis. Seeing her today was likely to have its own consequences, as each side geared up to find the other's weak spots. Anything and everything would do, even if it meant getting personal. He found it odd, though not surprising, that the Golds had paid her a visit today, probably not long before he arrived. Imagine if he'd showed up while they were still around. Oh what fun he could have had!

But things were not so fun, now, as he found himself wishing for calmer weather, so to speak. Just what would his superiors think of him if they knew he wasn't really wishing to go out and fight? Out of character, no doubt, is what they would say. They'd ask to take his temperature…and then proceed to tear him apart, of that he was sure. He could do without the bodily harm for now. He'd have to get in the mood to fight, and fast.

He felt slightly disgusted with himself, too, in a way. So he was a little concerned with how things would turn out. That was normal. He was also concerned about the effects of the war on Filia, whether she decided to fight alongside her people or not. If she decided to fight, it would be the end of whatever kind of relationship they had, be it a friendship or anything of the sort. It just would not be possible. But if she didn't fight, he didn't think that the trust in him that she had taken so long to build up would last. She would become convinced that he was conspiring against her, most likely to take Val and use him in the war. Or something to that extent.

These thoughts were not normal. He should be focusing on preparations for the war. He knew deep down that no matter what, whatever he had going on with Filia would effectively come to an end.

He wasn't exactly sure what their relationship entailed. He just found himself at her house more often than usual, and he found her to be less violent than usual. Sometimes, like they were doing at the moment, just sitting around the table sharing tea or cookies and talking about the weather. It made him feel almost…normal. And this wasn't as boring as he thought it would be. Again, out of character.

Perhaps this war was a sign for him to get back into character.

But he couldn't bring himself to voice that.

She finally took a sip of her tea and grimaced. It was too cold by then to enjoy. "So what are we to do, then?" she asked.

"You tell me. Any suggestions I make are normally thrown out the window."

She shrugged, very non-Filia-like. "I don't know…I haven't had time to give it much thought. I don't…I don't suppose I'll see you at all. Maybe this is a good thing. You're a bad influence on me."

"That I am."

They shared a brief smile before Xelloss announced that he had to be going. He placed a quick kiss on her lips, which she returned for a moment before they both pulled away, and that was that. No more words were said.

The next time he returned, he expected to find only Jillas and Grabos, but he had been half-hoping to see her there, instead of on the battlefield at some point. Much to his carefully concealed relief, there she was, standing at the kitchen sink, doing dishes. However, she didn't acknowledge his presence.

Not a good sign.

"What, no dinner?" he asked, joking. He didn't get a reply, and it took him another moment or two to realize that there were tears running down her cheeks.

He hated tears. Blessed, beautiful tears. Sadness and pain, he loved, but the tears were unnecessary, weren't they?

Filia finally turned to him and said, "He's dead."

"Val?"

"No," she shook her head. "Jillas."

"How in the world did that happen?" he asked, confused.

She bit back a sob as she sat down. "He was attacked. Val was with him, and managed to escape…because Jillas distracted them long enough for him to get back here. I…I was in the bedroom when he came in and told me what happened. The poor child was so traumatized. Grabos is in a state of shock, after having a breakdown when we finally found Jillas' body…or what was left of it."

Xelloss could not control the involuntary shudder that went through him. As much as he had despised the little fox man, Jillas had his good qualities. Loyalty. Well, basically just loyalty. But apparently he'd made a good distraction.

It was as he was thinking about this that he noticed Filia looking at him strangely. "What?"

"Where were you?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

She frowned and then looked away. "You wouldn't have…oh never mind. I just can't bring myself to say it."

"You mean, would I have attacked Val and killed Jillas?"

She didn't reply, but he knew that was the case.

"Filia, I did not attack Val and Jillas. I've been away, doing things that aren't much better, but you have my word, as shifty as it is, that I did not do that."

She nodded, not looking in the least bit convinced. He was relieved, though, when she let it go. For the time being.

The next time, he was not so fortunate. Neither was she.

It was the next time that he returned, about a year into the war, that he found Filia standing in the kitchen with a bloody knife in her hand, and a crazed look of horror on her face.

"Filia?"

She turned around and saw him, and for a moment he saw a flicker of relief, but it was quickly replaced by extreme agony. Something had happened, and he wasn't exactly sure. He was growing more and more concerned with the fact that she really did not seem like herself at the moment, and was holding a bloody knife. She was looking at him with rage and pain, and accusations in her eyes.

She said, in a voice that didn't sound like hers, "You killed him, didn't you?"

He was shocked, but tried his best to maintain a calm composure. "Killed who, Filia?"

"You killed my son!!!"

In that moment, Xelloss knew that Filia was gone. He could only watch her in helplessness, because there would be no reasoning with her. The war had finally driven her mad. Had Val really been killed? Did she think that the blood on the knife was her son's? Xelloss didn't know if Val was dead. He didn't have the chance to ask, because she was chanting a banishment spell. If it hit him, he would be done for. And when she attacked, all he could do was act on instinct.

And when his attack struck her through the chest, it was clean. She fell to the floor in a heap, but still breathing. And then he acted again on instinct, but in a different way. He ran to her and lifted her head off of the floor, resting it in his lap. He felt something wet on his cheeks and refused to acknowledge those hated things called tears.

Her eyes were still open, a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth down her chin. She smiled weakly.

"I…am so tired," she whispered.

"Go to sleep," he replied, rocking her gently.

"I know you didn't…kill…Val…"

He didn't know how to reply to that.

She laughed a little, coughing up blood. "I guess…I just…lost it. I couldn't…take it…anymore. Worrying…about Val…about me…about you."

"You worried about me?"

She laughed again. More blood. "Silly…me. Maybe now I can…rest…so tired…"

Her eyes closed. Her breathing stopped, and he didn't know what to think. He felt nothing, though he felt like he should do something for her. He laid her back on the floor, his body numb, and went outside. There was the clothesline, where Filia had done her laundry earlier that day. He tried not to think about the fact that no one would be there to get her clothes down from the line. He grimaced as the thought crossed his mind, anyway. There were a couple of sheets hanging there; he took one down to cover her body with. Perhaps he should bury her. But perhaps he should leave her body for the Golds to find, so that they would be able to give her the proper dragon burial.

A movement off to the left caught his attention, and lo and behold, there came Val. For a moment, he wasn't sure what he was seeing, but there was the boy, safe and sound, coming up the hill from the stream. He was holding his hand to his chest, looking a little pale and woozy. Xelloss could only think of keeping the sight of Filia's body away from Val's eyes.

"Hello there, young Val," he called, and went over to the boy. "What happened to your hand?"

"I cut it," Val replied. "I was hungry and cut an apple and I cut myself."

"Where's Grabos?"

"He's down by the stream, too. He took me down there to wash my hands and he should be coming soon."

"I see. Well, listen Val, I need you to tell Grabos to come here. Please? I need to tell him something."

Val looked at him strangely, but did as he was told. Obedient, quiet, much different from the man he'd been in his past life, Xelloss mused with an air of bitterness.

He saw Grabos tell Val to stay at the stream while the beast came up the hill to see what Xelloss wanted. Grabos had never trusted Xelloss; neither had Jillas. Both of them had always been afraid of higher-level demons, the only they'd ever trusted had been Val, himself. Fiercely loyal to the end. Grabos approached Xelloss cautiously and asked, "What do you want?"

"Get the boy and get away from here as fast as you can," Xelloss said, not wasting any time. "Filia…well, she's…dead."

Grabos stared at him in horror. "You killed her…you bastard."

He smiled disdainfully. "To the end," he replied. "But as I can be a nicer bastard than a lot of my kind, I'm telling you to take the boy away from here if you want him to live. I'm sure it makes no difference, but it was an accident that she died. She believed that the boy was dead, and lost her mind. I had no choice but to act. I will take care of things here."

"W-where would I go?"

"Anywhere." He sighed heavily, and went back to the house, leaving Grabos to stare after him in confusion and panic.

Xelloss took the sheet that he had picked, and wrapped her body gently. He then picked her up in his arms, looking down at her face, which was peaceful, as though she were merely sleeping.

"Such a waste," he whispered. "He was alive, Filia…why didn't you just go down to the stream? He was there…you would still be alive. And I wouldn't be taking a trip to the Golden Dragons right now, in the middle of a war, to give them your body. Do you know how much this is against the rules and regulations? This is a major war violation. Not as if we really have rules, but this won't be viewed as a good decision. Why did you have to let the war get to you so bad? Why couldn't you just be indifferent to things, like me? It takes practice, you know…but it's so much easier to harden your heart against the things you have to do or else. Only…I can't quite harden my heart to the fact that I just killed you."

He stopped talking then, realizing he was talking out loud, and realizing that he could no longer continue without his voice breaking.

***

In the valley, he stood before a large group of them, all of them staring at him with a mixture of fear, anger, and disbelief. Mostly fear and anger that he would invade their sanctions during wartime. But he calmly explained to them that he was not there to fight. He knew they didn't believe him, but he didn't care.

He held the body of Filia in his arms, holding her close to him as though unconsciously not wanting to let go of her. He looked down at her face once again, knowing it would be the last time he would ever see her.

"I bring you the body of Filia ul Copt. She was a member of your race."

They looked at each other. Milgazia stepped out from the group and looked Xelloss hard in the face. "Why do you bother bringing her to us?"

"Because she deserves a proper burial."

Milgazia looked down at her face. "She was a betrayer of our kind. She associated with you. Why do you bring her to us? If you actually care so much, bury her yourself."

Milgazia turned to walk away, but didn't get very far before he found himself face to face with one angry demon. Anytime Xelloss showed emotion, it was normally sadistic glee or snarling rage. Which was more bone-chillingly frightening? Milgazia didn't know, either, because after the look of snarling rage passed, a look of demonic glee settled over his features. Milgazia had to fight very hard to control his bladder.

"I said she deserves a proper burial. Do I have to stand over all of you to make sure that it gets done? Come now, Milgazia, don't make me wait. You know how impatient I get."

Indeed, the burial was done, and Xelloss tried to convince himself that Filia would have wanted it that way. But of course he would never know.

***end flashback***

Xelloss sighed, noting that her dreams had subsided and she was now sleeping at least peacefully. He placed a shaking hand over his face and tried to ignore the terrible gnawing where his stomach should have been. What good did it do to think about all of that now? He couldn't change it. He couldn't change anything. But what would happen if she fully remembered all of that? The war itself had taken an incredible toll on her, not just physically but mentally. She had been pulled by one side, the Golds, made to feel the most extreme measures of guilt and shame, and then had to endure attacks from monsters and demons alike, all of which were after Val. He hadn't known where Grabos had taken Val after that. He never found out. After the war, he had lost contact with virtually everyone. Not that he really had anyone left to contact.

He was afraid. As much as he hated to admit it, he was afraid of what would happen if Filia regained her memories. The emotional turmoil might prove to be too much for her. She had a stable life now; there was no war. There might eventually be wars in her lifetime, but he hoped that it was nothing quite as bad as before. She needed to feel safe. She needed her son to feel safe. Most of all, she needed a break.

Could she really have that break while he was there? He wasn't exactly sure. Was he in the way of her true happiness?

Why did he feel like the answer to all of those was 'yes'? And when had he started caring? Out of character, his master would say. Only she wasn't there, as duly noted before.

He felt like he was just going in circles with the same thoughts, over and over again. How was he going to break the cycle?

He was jolted out of his thoughts when he saw her stir and open her eyes. She blinked a few moments before rubbing her eyes. The first lights of dawn were peeking over the horizon, illuminating her face. She smiled, and then turned her head to the chair where he'd been sitting. It was empty.

She frowned; sure that she had felt his presence there. Shrugging, she put on her robe and went downstairs for breakfast.

***

Well, I really took quite a long time to finish this. Apologies, sincerely. I hope it lived up to the expectations. All this time and I've really only worked on a couple drafts, none of which were very appealing to me. This one got started earlier today and I took several breaks in between to think about a few things. One thing...I'm not real sure about the specifics of the War of the Monster's Fall or whatever it's name is. It's been a really long time since I've watched the series, and I can't remember if there was a war before that, other than the one between Shabby and Cephied. Anyway, if I got anything out of context or something's not right, just point it out to me and I'll fix it. Another thing is, I do not do well with death scenes. Please forgive the cheesy dialogue and the one line that is a blatant ode to South Park. I'm sorry.