Long chapter! This one includes some Zelos introspection, some fluff, some angst, and a brief Kratos POV that I hope I didn't utterly screw up. Disclaimer, Alex?

Alex Rowe: ...

Now, Alex.

Alex Rowe: ...Sylvia Viridian does not own Tales of Symphonia. Or Last Exile.

Thank you, Alex. You can go back to brooding in silence now. Oh, and my apologies to Fred Gallagher for the title, I just couldn't resist.

Chapter Four: Sad Zelos In Snow

They stayed at the Renegade base for a couple of days, to restock and simply to visit with Yuan. Finally, though, the group bid the Renegades farewell, and headed for Flanoir itself. Fortunately, there weren't many small cities on this continent, just a few little fishing villages that wouldn't have any Exspheres in them, so they only needed to visit the main city. They made land just a mile or two away, then bundled up as warmly as they could, and began the short hike into town.

Zelos hated snow. It reminded him of the day his mother had died, killed by Seles' half-elven mother. He shivered a bit as they walked across the white-powdered landscape, her last words to him echoing through his mind.

"You should never have been born."

He'd believed it for years. What had his life ever brought to anyone except pain and sorrow? He was always in someone's way, and eventually took a kind of pleasure in defying what others thought he should be…but it was a bitter feeling, because his actions only made them despise him more. The swordsman, supposedly a mercenary, that Cruxis sent to train him when he was seventeen had seemed different from other people, but at that time, Kratos had kept his distance, refusing to treat Zelos as any more than a somewhat irritating student; he didn't hate Zelos, but gave no indication of enjoying his company, either. It wasn't until he'd met Lloyd and the group that anyone actually liked him, and he hadn't known what to do with that at first. He would be forever in Lloyd's debt, for saving him from himself.

Suddenly, he smiled, as the memory of his mother's words was replaced by the memory of the last time he'd been in Flanoir, when he and Lloyd had had a long conversation under the stars.

"I refuse to vanish. And so I don't want anyone else to be destroyed…I want you to live, too, Zelos."

In that moment, Zelos had made his decision. Whatever else might be true, there was only one side that actually cared if Zelos Wilder lived or died – not the Chosen One, not their spy, but just Zelos Wilder – and suddenly, he had wanted more than anything to be part of that. He wanted to want to live, because Lloyd wanted him to live, and that meant everything.

…The crush he'd had on Lloyd at the time probably had something to do with it, too.

I could grow to like this stuff, Zelos thought, reaching down to the ground suddenly and scooping up a handful, I mean, so much else has changed…maybe it's time for this to change, too. He glanced at the handful of snow, then looked at Lloyd, who was talking and laughing with Colette, and his smile turned into a devilish grin. Carefully, he shaped the snow into a sphere. Then, he called out, "Hey, Lloyd, look at this!" and when Lloyd turned around, threw the snowball smack into his friend's face. Seeing Lloyd's shocked expression, he laughed, "Gotcha!"

Lloyd shook off the snow, the shock fading away into a broad grin. "Oh, I'm gonna get you for that!" he cried, scooping up a snowball and returning fire.

Zelos ducked it. "Ha, missed me!" he taunted, then yelped as a second snowball hit him. He had missed seeing that one, mostly because it came from Colette. "Hey, two-on-one, no fair!" he cried, gathering another snowball and quickly throwing it at the pair. He dodged aside to avoid Lloyd's next volley, and was about to tease him for his bad aim, when he saw a startled expression on the kid's face.

"Oops," Lloyd said, looking past Zelos, "Um, sorry…"

"What? What happened?" Zelos asked, turning to follow Lloyd's gaze. There stood Kratos, with snow covering his face; he had been hit by the snowball that Zelos dodged. "Oh. Uh…" Zelos didn't quite know what to say, mostly because he couldn't tell how Kratos was reacting.

The man's expression was utterly unreadable as he wiped the snow from his face, and then turned to face the others. He smirked, almost imperceptibly, at their uncertainty; then, quick as lightning, he dipped down for a handful of snow, and rose up throwing. The snowball hit Lloyd in the center of the chest, as the others gaped at Kratos for another instant, astonished by his broad smile and the playfully predatory gleam in his eyes. Then Zelos crowed with laughter, shouting, "Way to go, old man! We'll give these two a run for their money, huh?"

Snowballs flew between the four all the way to Flanoir, and they arrived at the inn wet, tired, and happy.

Later that evening, when they were all warm and dry, Zelos sat in the inn's common room with the other three as they ate dinner, trying his best to stare at his food and not Kratos.

Every time he saw the older swordsman, it seemed, he couldn't shake the memory of catching Kratos and Yuan together, and the image sent all kinds of uncomfortable feelings through him. He wanted to hit Yuan for taking Kratos away from him, and Kratos for leaving him, and most of all himself for being so silly, because he and Kratos had never been together, so Yuan couldn't have stolen him, and Kratos couldn't have left. And in addition, Kratos had freely admitted that his relationship with Yuan was open, so Zelos had no cause for jealousy whatsoever. This utterly failed to stop him from being insanely jealous.

And at the same time, the thought of Kratos being so open to anyone sent a sharp twist of longing through Zelos. There had been a look in Kratos' eyes, just before the two noticed Zelos' arrival…Zelos had barely seen it, but he knew that he wanted to see that expression directed at himself. It had been as though for just a moment, all the barriers Kratos had built up through the years had vanished. The impossible nature of that single desire sent Zelos spiraling into despair.

"Zelos?" Colette's voice broke through his thoughts, and he realized that she had been saying his name for some time now.

"Hm? Oh, sorry, Colette…I was kind of lost in my thoughts. What's up?" he responded, giving her a smile that he hoped looked sincere.

"We were just wondering if you were all right," Lloyd replied in Colette's place.

"You've been staring at your meal without taking a bite for at least five minutes now. Is something wrong?" Kratos added, looking slightly concerned.

Zelos tried not to blush, "Um, no, nothing's wrong. Just thinking about…about what I should get Seles for her birthday!" He grinned cheerfully, slipping back into his old familiar mask. Nice save.

Lloyd looked puzzled, "I thought you said her birthday was in April? That's months from now!"

"Yeah, but you wouldn't believe how hard she is to shop for," Zelos said, weaving truth into the lie to make it more believable, "Maybe I should just wrap up the brat and give him to her, she seemed to like him when we all visited." It was true; Zelos had definitely seen Seles giving Genis the eye when the whole group had visited her in the abbey to get Zelos' Cruxis Crystal from her.

"Genis? Really?" Lloyd looked surprised.

"Oh, they'd be so cute together!" Colette squealed, "We should try and set them up!"

Zelos backpedaled a bit, "I dunno…she's pretty bright, and if she figured out what we were doing…she's hard to predict. She might be grateful, or she might flip out on us for trying to control her." He hadn't realized that Colette had a matchmaking streak in her…

"Besides, Genis likes Presea, right?" Lloyd added.

"Yes, but…I don't think she really sees him as anything but a child. She really isn't as young as she looks," Colette pointed out, "It would be good for Genis to find someone else. I think Presea would be happier with that, too."

With Lloyd and Colette safely distracted by their conversation about Genis' love life, Zelos rose quietly from his place at the table, intending to take a walk somewhere quiet and try to sort out his emotions. He had taken a few steps toward the door when Kratos' voice stopped him.

"Where are you going?" the Seraph questioned softly, so as not to disturb the other two in their conversation.

Zelos froze. "Um, I thought I'd take a walk, get some fresh air, you know. Good for the digestion."

The look of concern still hadn't entirely left Kratos' gaze. "…Don't stay out too long," he replied finally, "There's supposed to be a storm coming later, and it wouldn't do to have you caught in it."

"No problem; I'll be back before you know it!" Zelos replied with forced cheerfulness, determined to make Kratos believe there was nothing wrong. With that, he quickly strode through the door of the inn, pausing only to snatch the woolen coat that Yuan had provided each of them with.

Kratos watched him go, his gaze still troubled, but said nothing.

Zelos wandered through the snow. His straight path directly away from the Snowy City contrasted with the tumultuous circles his thoughts were running in. Much to his dismay, the only thing he'd determined for certain was that his feelings for Kratos had progressed beyond what could reasonably be called a 'crush'. He'd fallen in love with the man, and fallen hard; from the pain in his chest, he'd guess that the fall had broken a couple of ribs…and he'd completely killed that metaphor.

(Maybe he'd landed on it when he fell.)

Suddenly, he shivered, and noticed that the wind had begun to pick up. Looking around him for the first time in at least thirty minutes, he discovered that dark clouds had begun to gather in the sky, and the few drifting flakes of snow that were perpetually falling to the white-powdered ground had been joined by flurries of their cousins. He glanced back at Flanoir and swore softly; the city was much too far away for comfort, especially with the wind growing colder every moment.

He began to hurry as fast as he could back to the inn, knowing that he would never make it before the coming storm hit. And his fears were quickly realized; less than ten minutes had passed before the swirling snowstorm obliterated his vision, making navigation all but impossible. He shivered and pulled his already snow-caked woolen coat tighter about him, hoping that as long as he kept going in what he believed was a straight line, he could reach the city before he froze to death. And the sun was going down – he could tell by the gradual change of the world about him from white to grey – which meant that temperatures would be dropping even faster.

Zelos walked as long as he could, struggling through the snow. He lost all sense of what time it was once darkness had fallen; he might have been walking for one hour, or for many. He was afraid to go in any direction except straight forward, in case he lost his way…and afraid that he had already lost it, turning without knowing he had done so, disoriented by the swirling winds. Finally, just as he was sure he could go no further, the wind and snow around him seemed to lessen, and he was able to make out the shapes of buildings blocking the wind somewhat. Somehow, he'd made it back to the city.

Just a little farther, and I'll be back to the inn, and Kratos can yell at me for not listening to him as much as he wants, Zelos thought, stumbling forward in relief. But his exhausted, freezing limbs would carry him no further, and he collapsed there in the street at the edge of town, unable to rise again. Or not…Man, what a way to go. Sorry, everyone…looks like I won't be able to help you any further. Zelos thought he should be more concerned about this, but the cold was making even his feelings sluggish; he didn't have the energy to be scared anymore. As his consciousness faded, Zelos thought he saw a shape moving through the swirling snow toward him. Then, all was darkness, and Zelos Wilder knew nothing more.

Kratos was worried. Zelos had left hours ago, and hadn't returned before the storm hit. Lloyd and Colette had seemed certain that Zelos would be all right, but neither of them was as familiar as Kratos was with the viciousness of storms in Flanoir. Both of them had gone to bed an hour earlier, leaving Kratos to watch for Zelos' return alone, waiting in growing anxiousness, jumping at every small creak that his angelic hearing could catch, in the hope that his young friend had finally returned.

Finally, the Seraph could endure no longer. He rose swiftly, found a pen and paper on the front desk and jotted down a quick note to Lloyd and Colette on the off chance that something prevented his return, grabbed the coat that he didn't entirely need (being a Seraph had its advantages), and went out into the cold to look for Zelos.

The air temperature didn't bother his metabolism as much as it would an ordinary person's, and Kratos knew that he would be able to survive it for far longer than Zelos could. Neither of the Chosen Ones had gone through the full, permanent transformation, the one which would allow them to endure extreme climates and halt their aging process. It was a more complex – and painful – process than the transformation that the Journey of Regeneration required. Normally, Kratos regarded it as a good thing that the others had been spared that pain, but right now he wished Zelos was a Seraph, because the younger man had to be near-frozen if he'd been caught in this storm ever since it began.

Even a Seraph wasn't completely immune to the cold, though, and Kratos found that the wind brought a painful chill to his exposed face and fingers, and seemed to cut right through his coat and clothing in places. Add this to the stinging particles of snow being tossed about, and Kratos was not a happy angel. Quickly, he strode toward the edge of town, following the route that Zelos had most likely taken, hoping that he wouldn't pass by his friend without knowing it, for the swirling snow surely provided even less visibility outside the city itself.

As he approached the city limits, he saw a figure through the obscuring, snow-filled gusts of wind. The figure wavered on its feet for a moment, then collapsed heavily in the middle of the street. Kratos rushed to the person's side, all cold and pain forgotten in the mingled hope that he'd found Zelos, and fear that he hadn't found him soon enough.

As he reached the fallen person, he could see that it was, indeed, Zelos. Swiftly, Kratos scooped the Ex-Chosen up into his arms and, ignoring all considerations of how others might react, called out his wings, flying them back to the inn at top speed, fighting gusts of wind the whole way in his desperation to get Zelos somewhere warm before it was too late.

He burst through the door of the inn and made for Zelos' bedroom, where he set the younger swordsman in the bed and stripped off his damp clothes. He bundled Zelos up in as many blankets as he could find close at hand, then went to wake the innkeeper.

"What is it?" the man asked sleepily as he opened his door.

"My companion was caught in the storm," Kratos explained, "You have hot water bottles for treating hypothermia, yes?" It would be ridiculous for a hotel in Flanoir not to be able to treat tourists who stayed out in the cold too long.

"Ordinarily, we do, but they're all in use right now," the innkeeper replied, "Your friend wasn't the only one caught outside too long today. I'm afraid you'll have to use more traditional means to warm him." With that, the man retreated from Kratos' irritated glare back into the comfort and safety of his warm bed.

With a sigh, Kratos returned to Zelos' room, where the Ex-Chosen remained exactly where Kratos had put him, too cold even to shiver. Kratos fished out a pair of pajama pants from Zelos' knapsack and dressed him in them, then stripped himself to the waist and climbed into the bed beside Zelos and wrapped his arms around the other's clammy form, spooning their bodies together in an effort to provide as much contact as possible. It was a surprisingly comfortable position, and Kratos had to fight off the impulse to bury his face in the junction of Zelos' neck and shoulder. He quickly set aside all questions about that urge toward intimacy, at the very least until such time as Zelos was healthy, and closing his eyes, Kratos drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

Zelos woke up gradually. The first thing he noticed was that he felt comfortably warm, which was rather confusing. He'd expected either the burning heat of Niflheim or the blank nothingness of being trapped in an Exsphere, or perhaps simply to never wake up at all. With a noise reminiscent of a purr in the back of his throat, he snuggled a little deeper into the warmth that enveloped him, still not fully awake. Maybe…maybe I'm still alive, then? he thought slowly, Maybe someone rescued me… He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to focus them…and saw a pair of strong arms wrapped around him. What the hell? he thought, attempting to shift around and get a better look.

"How are you feeling?" came a voice over his shoulder, deep and warm and a little thick with sleep, and far too familiar, and Zelos was suddenly very awake. In an instant, he froze, becoming acutely aware of every sensation his body was experiencing, particularly one down below that he hoped he could keep Kratos from noticing. He turned just his head to face the older swordsman as well as he could, trying not to notice that neither of them was wearing a shirt, and found Kratos looking at him with mild concern. "Um, what…what happened?" Zelos half-squeaked, trying desperately to figure out this situation. At least they both seemed to still be wearing their pants…

Kratos, seeming to realize the position they were in, backed off, withdrawing his arms from around Zelos with a very faint blush and moving back a bit. A bit disappointed, Zelos sat up, careful to keep the blanket over his lap as he did so. "When you didn't return, I became concerned, and went looking for you. I saw you collapse in the snow," Kratos explained, "and I brought you back here. But the inn was out of hot water-bottles to warm people up with…this was the only way to warm you up quickly enough."

Zelos felt simultaneously elated that Kratos had rescued him, and disappointed that he'd only slept there out of necessity. "Thanks, man," he finally managed, "To tell you the truth, I thought I was a goner for sure. I guess we're even now, huh?"

"…If you want to look at it that way," Kratos allowed, "Personally, I regard it more as looking out for the safety of a friend."

It was the first time Kratos had freely acknowledged the bond they had as being friendship; as Zelos' heart felt swelled with emotion, he wondered how he could ever have not loved this man. "…Thanks," he said again, more softly, trying hard not to blush.

"And continuing in that activity, I'll ask you again; how are you feeling?"

Zelos mentally catalogued his sensations. "…Pretty good, considering," he said after a moment, "My nose and ears feel a bit achy, and my fingers and toes are kinda tingly, but I suppose that's natural." His expression grew grave, "…It was a near thing, wasn't it?"

"Far too near," Kratos agreed, "Don't do it again. …I might not be lucky enough to find you so quickly next time." His tone was calm, but there was an edge underneath it, of something that Zelos couldn't quite grasp.

Zelos smiled, a genuine smile this time, "I promise."

I'd like to state for the record here that Kratos isn't really registering the implications of his emotional response to finding Zelos there. Although it's clear to anyone observing, he hasn't really noticed anything unusual about his reactions. I am of the firm belief that Lloyd inherited his thick skull from his father.

To Gorbash, whoever you may be: Thank you so much for the kind and thoughtful review. To tell the truth, I didn't even notice what I was doing with Zelos...I just let the characters talk, and transcribe what they say to each situation that I put them in. I do tend to make Colette a bit smarter than most people give her credit for...I identify with her in a lot of ways, since I can be kind of klutzy, and I have a tendency to apologize for breathing. I'm glad you like it so far, hope it continues to meet with your approval!

Please review, everyone!