Sari: -ducks barrage of heavy objects- OKAY! I'm sorry! I'm a lazy butt, I'll admit it! I'll even offer excuses!

Excuse Numero Uno: I had to draw a Star Wars comic for my brother.

Excuse Number Two: I was forbidden to use the computer because I failed my Updating Quickly classes (oh, the irony)

Excuse Number Three: People really do live on Mars. I was there with my superintendant.

Excuse Number Four: I was playing Sims 2 far too much in an attempt to get my sims out of college.

So, the long long long long LONG awaited chapter thirteen.

Warnings: None but the usual spoilers!

Disclaimer: I once had a very demented dream I owned Tales of Symphonia, but that one goes with the Legend of Zelda valentine dream, which was demented also.

Kratos woke up to Simon's tail in his face and Murray's nose lifting his comforters up, making a draft blow uncomfortably onto his toes. Kratos cursed and rolled himself up into his blankets again before falling back to sleep, having a dream about dancing petunias.

Kratos woke up to Raine standing over him, frowning at him at Simon stared at her moodily and the smaller Raine thumbed through a book that was about six inches thick.

"It would appear from the symptoms that his illness is the exact same one as Sheena's, however, the way that you are not able to heal him, Raine, signifies that this is a slightly differant type of fever, as shown by the reasearch of Sir James Tyott the sixth, but..." the smaller Raine said at a speed that Lloyd usually wouldn't be able to speak at.

"Mmm, yes, that would be the case." Raine said, grabbing a thermometer and sticking it in Kratos' ear a little too zealously.

"Ow! Watch it!" Kratos growled as the earpiece dug into his ear.

"Am I pushing too hard?" Raine said, pushing a little harder.

"You could push a little gentler!" Kratos snapped.

"Oh! Okay, I'll push better," Raine said, pushing with all her might and making the plastic ear cover dig even further into Kratos' ear.

When the new variety of torture had ended, Raine tutted. "One hundred one. Next ear!"

After more painful ear thermometer testings than Kratos thought possible, Raine and Raine both left to eat breakfast and Zelos came in bearing a bowl of chicken soup.

"So..." Zelos said, looking worried, "Do I have to spoon-feed you?"
"NO." Kratos hissed, looking murderous.

Oh, if there was one thing Kratos truly hated, it was chicken soup. There were many reasons why he hated it, the first and most prominent being that Martel had loved making chicken soup and hadn't been much of a cook. Saying that she could cook nearly as well as Raine may have been a compliment. The other reason was that Mithos has usually killed the chickens, and had creative ways of doing so, usually ending up in the soup either spontaniously combusting or tasting strongly of dirt.

The third reason was that it had not always been chicken soup, but rather random-beast-we'll-call-chicken soup. Kratos had never had quite the same imagination as the others, so trying to pretend that clay golem soup was really chicken soup had failed miserably.

So, as soon as Zelos had left, Kratos had stared at the soup with a feeling of impending doom.

It did not matter if Genis had cooked the soup, or if the chickens were really chickens and had been killed a perfectly humane manner. All that mattered was Kratos and his alektorophobia when it came to soup.

Three hours later, Kratos was still staring at a bowl of chicken soup, although it was now cold.

Colette strode into the room.

"Kratos? Are you okay?"

"Fine, just fine," he moaned, sounding idiotically nasal and looking miserable.

"Are you hungry? Oh no, you don't have a stomach bug, do you? I don't need to get you a bucket, right?" Colette said, looking worried.

"No, I'm fine," Kratos said dismissively. "But I think I'd rather skip my lun-"

"FOOD IS IMPORTANT TO GET YOU WELL!" Colette shrieked, pinching his nose and beginning to dump the chicken soup down his throat.

The soup was cold and its slightly off-putting taste was amplified by Kratos' rememberings of electronic, flaming, dirt-filled soup. Buy the time the bowl of soup was done, he felt sincerely ill.

"I'm going to sleep now," Kratos mumbled, turning over on his flip-flopping stomach and falling to sleep instantly.

Sari: Sorry, but I ran out of steam, so this chapter is cut slightly short. For those wondering, alektorophobia is the fear of chickens, so there's a new vocabulary owrd of the day. Chow, and thank you VERY much for not murdering me because of my lazy updating issues.