Warning: Sex

...

It was a bright summer morning. Setzer would never forget it because he'd had the most wonderful apple pancakes for breakfast. He'd slept over at his best friend Thadeous's home, after the two had spent the day looking for lizards and frogs; being 13 and 14 the two would no longer stick the poor things into buckets of muddy water to be stirred about while they play warlocks bent on casting dark spells over the other children. Now, they merely collected them to breed as over-sized pets that would destroy their enemies. That's much more civilized, they'd come to believe.

Mrs. De'Marco had told the two to remove the disgusting things from the table and take them into Thad's room; they had a box with holes waiting for the creatures beneath the older boy's bed. Pulling them out from within their night clothes, the tucked shirt and pockets; Thadeous sleeps in a night gown and hid the things in his underwear. It was after they'd put the lizards and frogs away that the strangest things took place. Thadeous decided to talk about girls. Setzer had no interest in the female gender at the time, his only goals in life being what he would be eating, or where he would be going. He'd have time for women, he supposed, when he became a man. But his friend was determined and continued the conversation about butterflies in his stomach, and eathquakes in his hands over this girl named, Rebecca. Having her described to him, Setzer agreed that she did infact sound pretty, though he did wonder why he's never seen the girl. He doesn't always hang out with the male but he sees him in passing, which is why its odd that he's never seen her. Demitry, his other best friend, has never mentioned her either. And as Setzer began to wonder what that situation said about his friend, Thadeous then dropped the bomb.

"I'm thinking about kissing her." He said, his puberty broken voice heightening all the more from nerves.

"Will you?" Setzer asked in honest wonder. He'd like to know what its like, for the future. Thadeous isn't the oldest of the trio but he seemed to be maturing the fastest since neither he nor Demitry have hit female interest yet.

"I will but..." He trailed off.

"What?"

"I wanna be good at it... I thought that maybe I should practice first- you know- with someone who'll give me an honest opinion."

"I'm no expert but... wouldn't that be considered cheating?" He looks up at his friend from his place on the floor, his attention was on the moving box until just then.

Thad, who's seated on the bed, looks down at Setzer with hope-filled eyes. "Not if she doesn't know."

"She'll know," Setzer said in a very sure voice. "my mother says women know everything. And the less they get on you about it the worse off you'll be because they're plotting your downfall on a much grander scale."

"You're mother is talking about women, this is only a fourteen year old girl."

"True. But my mother was fourteen once, so she would know."

Thad rolled his large brown eyes. "Rebecca won't know unless you tell her."

"Why on earth would I tell her?" Setzer asked himself more than his friend. "I don't even know her." He picks up a lizard moving it around the box as though it were a toy rather than a living creature. Beside him his friend figits. Turning his head he sees the male raise his brows in question. Then it sank in. "Listen Thad, I know I have long hair, but I'm not a girl."

"You don't have to be. We're just kissing," Insisted the desparate male, praying his friend wouldn't now punch him in the nads and leave. "I won't tell anyone about it, and I don't think of you as a girl."

Setzer gave his friend a long look. "Dumb how you say the better part last." And with a resigned sigh, he nodded. "Alright. But we swear to secrecy," He points a commanding finger at the other boy. "and this won't be an everyday thing; just until you kiss her."

"I promise." The older boy crossed his finger over his heart.

Taking the promise to merit Setzer turns to face the male, one knee at a time until his twisted body straightened on a diagonal. "Okay. What do I do?" He asked.

His cheeks were held a little too quickly as his friend tugged him up from his seated position so that the distance between them wouldn't put a strain on either of them. Thad's lips were soft and warm, his parted mouth expelled breaths that tasted like apple and syrup. Setzer imagened that his kiss tasted as much the same, maybe a bit more buttery since he doesn't use a lot of syrup but overdoes it on the butter. It was when Thadeous made a pleasent hum in the back of his throat that Setzer pushed away, chuckling.

"Well, if she likes pancakes she'll love you." Leaning back up he gives the boy a extra peck on the lips. "It seemed fine to me."

Thad smiled giving his friend a shove on the shoulder. "You were alright too."

"Thanks." He scoots up to take a seat on the bed. His legs were killing him being crushed beneath his body.

"Sure," He seemed to have more to say but instead kicked at the fringe on the throw rug that peeks out from beneath his bed. "So... what'd you like most about it? Anything I can improve on?"

Setzer cocked a brow, then shook his head. "No. It was fine." Hopping from the bed, he added. "And I won't kiss you with tongues like you're older sister does with her boyfriend." He had no snark or snide in his voice. Just dropping a bit of information. "Now let's get dressed and go catch some bugs for our army."

He stripped off his night clothes putting on what he'd worn the other day, Thadeous does the same.

Twenty-nine year old Setzer had a faint smile on his face as he remembered that day. He wondered why he would remember it though. To preserve the memory? To remind him of the fact that he, regardless what some think, is indeed not a homosexual. Any other contact with the male gender had been through harmless flirting with Sabin, always enjoyable; flirting with random strangers who, while having intentions, back away when he tells them that he is not interested. He's actually made good friends with some of them, the ones that don't take the "no" too hard. But other than verbally, that kiss with his childhood best friend was the only time he'd ever been intimately touched by a male and knowing that, he's decided that the memory was hard for him to preserve in a safe place where it won't become corrupt or tainted due to what is happening to him presently.

His mistake played out before him just then.

Iron had fired at him just as he'd launched himself backward to get out of the way of the arrows. He'd forgotten one key thing about the automatic weapon; the spray of arrows went in any direction they pleased after the straight path of the first two. But rather than get out of the way, he'd ended up tacked to the wall that he hadn't realized he was close to. His left arm wound up extended out a bit, his arm pinned by two arrows that luckily missed sticking into him and instead grazed him on the way through his shirt sleeve. The last arrow pierced through his left thigh, just above his knee. Setzer bit his tongue to avoid crying out in pain, he would not give Iron the satisfaction, or at least that's what his intentions were but the man had found his weakness. He made no move, showed no sign of care when Iron threatened to burn his ship to the ground with him on it. He didn't care when the man tugged at his hair exclaiming that he'd thought he was wearing a powdered wig and would love to cut it all off, Setzer also held strong when Iron examined the bleeding leg and with a hand on the back of his thigh pushed and pulled his leg over the arrow, as though the hole were being fucked by the wooden stick. But in the end it was his leg that screwed him over, while the pain was excruciating it didn't bother him as much as what Iron had said.

"I'd always wondered if you ever found pleasure in pain," Tearing open Setzer's shirt, a clattering from the buttons sound as they hit the wood floor. His fingers traced down his scarred torso like they were going over bumps of hidden rocks on a smooth path. "like maybe you'd done all this to yourself, or asked a lover to..."

When his hand reached for the waistband on Setzer's pants, he stupidly recoiled and lashed out with his free hand. The fist landing Iron against the ear. When the alter fell away, Setzer tried to kick him with his free leg but missed. Iron shoved it back against the wall with his hand, a wicked grin spread across his face then. Now he'd done it. Setzer's eyes had trained on the man like a serpant eager to strike if its prey got any closer, but being tacked to the wall had a disadvantage for him.

"Should have guessed that your pride would be your breaking point." In one swift motion he jerked the man's tights down leaving them on where the arrow was sticking out. "Not Terra, she's a strong woman, you'd let her take care of herself; your ship you could rebuild in time, you've done it once before you can always do it again. So finally, I see what would break the cool, cheerful exterior of the pilot."

"Iron stop." Setzer said in an odd voice he didn't even know he had. It had warning. It had fear.

"Iron? Funny, before you were bent on calling me Edgar? Was it because you thought that you could break through to him? Or perhaps..." He lifts the man's flaccid member, bringing it to his lips. "If I were Edgar, you would encourage me to go." He licked beneath the two with testing laps, wrapping his lips around the head for the briefest second.

Setzer recoiled, sickness churned in his gut.

Iron laughed in a thick rich tone. He was going to enjoy this. Maybe Sonya's screw-up wasn't so bad after all.

And so there they were, Iron's fingers digging powerfully, painfully into Setzer's thigh leaving purple bruises in their place. The man's other arm is barred over his gut hard enough to squeeze vomit from the gambler's mouth if he'd held any harder. Iron had wedged himself behind him against the wall; his leg slid up over the arrow but not off, the end with the feathers is still exposed. And in one hard thrust the alter found his way inside of Setzer's body. The pain was a nightmare on top of a nightmare; and Setzer only hoped that his inner walls would bleed to make the movement easier or Iron's semen would finally manage to coat him as it worked in and out. He hated him. He hated the man more than he hated the empire who killed his family and friends. He hated him for every pleasured groan Iron made in his friends voice, he hated himself for his own pained cries into the silence of his ship as it mixed with the voilent slapping of their skin, but he hated himself even more for the few moans that slipped out of himself when the bastard's dick hit him in the right place. Iron laughed every time, tightening the grip around his stomach as if he were attempting to snap him in half. At least his body hadn't betrayed him, he remained limp between the legs. Setzer wondered how much longer this could go on, and gratefully the posser's arm moved up to his collarbone, his back arched poorly against the obstructing wall, while he climaxed into the smaller man's body.

Iron just allowed his weight to drop forward right there. Setzer didn't even have the strength to cry out when he hit the floor after their combined weight slid him forcefully from the arrows in his leg and shirt. Iron's massive, but trim, 170 pound body beat out his small 139 easily and the jerk just laid there a moment before finally rolling off. Sweaty, and angry, all Setzer could do was lay there, ass out, panting. Iron lifted himself to a sitting position to take in the scene. It was just as he thought it would be... hillarious. Chuckling, he slaps the man's naturally pale ass admiring the squishing sound between his cheeks. He'd actually tilted his head back and laughed when Setzer began to curl in on himself. Only problem was that instead of crying in pain or hurt, the man seemed to be laughing...

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Sesto thwarted two of Cyan's attacks, his arm was nearly taken off by the third and quickly he shifted his weight so the armor took the brunt of the blow. He looked surprised when the sword slashed the armor clean through, and the chunk fell to the floor causing a loud bang. Arm exposed, Sesto switched the sword to the covered arm in order to keep the exposed one safe from the fourth blow that was aimed for his gut. Now's his chance. The sword stabbed through the chest plate but the diamond mail stopped the sword easily, and it careened off to the side. As Cyan's useless legs gave out on him when his desparate attack was through, he grunted in pain feeling Sesto's elbow, covered in metal, slam into the back of his head to further assert his decline to the floor.

Face down, he pushes himself up with as much force as his weak arms could muster only to fall limply back to the floor.

Sesto snorted seeing the bleeding body, but he grinned watching the head, unbalanced from Cyan's nose and chin rocking back and forth until it fell onto its side.

"Cyan!" The boy cried out as he came in through the window.

Sesto wasn't in time to move and the child clamped his teeth down into his neck, which failed to be covered by armor, and with the discharge from a monster he'd drawn in before returning to Doma for dinner, he froze the man in a block of shimmering, absolute zero, ice. Sliding himself free of the man, Gau felt himself tremble in anger. How could this happen? If only he had been a little bit sooner in his return he could have... he could have...

Dropping to the stone floor, Cyan's head held in his lap, the boy tilts his head back and howls. "Gauuuuuu!"

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"What's so funny? Don't tell me you'd actually enjoyed it?" Iron stood on shaking legs. He feels kind of funny actually. "You're a sicker puppy than I had thought."

"I was only laughing at myself..." He grunted as his stomach heaved a bit. "I was laughing because I must look so pitiful right now."

"Oh." Iron smiled. "Its awful big of you to see the humor in your own downfall."

"Yes, I do... you should be laughing as well, you know." He tried to roll over onto his back where he hoped the pain would hurt less, but it was futile. "You're in a much worse spot than me."

"Why? Have you got crabs?" He laughed heartilly.

"No. My father always told me that..." He stopped trying to roll over. It was just too painful. "if you intend to laugh at another persons misfortune that you should laugh harder at your own." Wriggling, he tries to pull up his pants. He can at least pull that off. "And from where I am, you've got plenty to laugh about."

Iron didn't like where this was going, he was actually starting to further sweat where he should be cooling off by now. "You fuck... what have you done?"

"No no... you've done it to yourself." His pants were tugged high enough to cover his thighs. "Those dice you threw in the hallway, if you'd bothered to notice two of them had red hearts painted on them... that paint, my dear advisary... was poison. And you've enhaled quite a deal of it. Its actually a wonder you can still see straight." Setzer felt another surge of pain, and a faint chuckle escaped his mouth.

Iron slapped his shoulder when it felt as though something touched him. But nothing was there. Its not true. It can't be true. He's bluffing. "You're lying... you would never do that to Edgar."

"You're right, I would never do it to Edgar... but I'd gladly do it to you." He can feel sleep coming over him. "I actually felt bad when you'd tossed those dice, but now... you can burn in hell for all I care."

Shaking his head, he dropped to the floor, grabbing Setzer around the throat. "Give me the antidote!" He barked.

"No."

"Rrrr!" His grip tightened.

"Go ahead.." He said in a strain. "kill me. You'll never find the antidote because I don't keep my things just laying around... and if you kill me you'll die within a week."

"You shit!" Releasing the male's neck, he stands swaying a bit from dizziness. "You'll have to find it for yourself... you won't lay here and take it." He laughed in a frightened shake. "I can go get it for the both of us... just tell me where you've hidden it."

"I've become immuned to my posions a long time ago." He closed his eyes.

"Setzer! Setzer!" Kneeling, he shakes the man.

Blinking, he smiles. "Maybe you'll find something at the castle... maybe..."

Dropping the sleeping man back to the floor, he snapped out. "Fuck you! Fuck you!"

Iron had to get back to the castle. How long did Setzer say he had? A week? That's plenty of time. He can make it! Hurrying to where the bird is tied, he stumbled numerous times along the way, but once he was outside the man fled the ship aiming for Figaro. Pushing the bird as hard as he could go.

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Locke, feather on the pen tip tickling under his nose, thought deeply about all the things he's learned in the past two days. So far as he knows, Edgar started acting strangely in the ninth month: "He'd been upset during dinner" is what the maid had told him and not long after that he'd beaten the woman with a heavy hand. Chancellor Arnold who'd come around days ago, mentioned that Edgar had been a little more huffy lately. That he behaved as though he were running out of time to do something but never mentioned what. He'd just assumed that it was for the party on the 31st. Appearances have to be worked on. Locke didn't think that that was the case because Edgar needed no appearance, everything about the man was genuine and wonderful. But recently his behavior is strange, alarming even. He'd checked out the armory and sure enough not a single lock had been broken. There are no hidden tunnels or rooms down there, which could only mean that whomever 'stole' the weapons from Figaro castle, didn't actually take them but had them handed to them. Locke didn't want to believe Edgar would do something like that but then he never would believe that his lover would take him against his will either. There was one thing... on the door handle. Some strange black substance stuck to his finger. Washing it off was no easy task it was practically like tar but once wet down and soaped the rest came off on a towel. That night Locke had the weirdest dream about he and Edgar fighting, he wasn't sure what it was about but they nearly came to blows then Edgar stormed away. He tried to chase after him, but he'd gotten in his own way, or at least, someone who looked like him. His hair was black, not the ash grey peppered brown that it naturally is, his eyes were darker than the light hazel they really are. It was strange to see himself looking like that, even weirder to have it try to touch him and the power behind that wanted contact was so real Locke felt sick just at the thought and quickly moved away before it had happened.

He'd woken up in a cold sweat and was completely out of breath. He didn't sleep the rest of the night and instead asked about the two men who were riddled with arrows. It was a shame that he could not question the men personally. The other guards knew nothing about their leaving but the men at the stable confirmed that Edgar had gone out with them, and only Edgar came back but he had the two guard's birds with him. The stableman said that it was very strange that the king seemed so... out-of-sorts he almost was a walking corpse. Then as if he knew where he was he'd straightened up and marched back into the castle as if life were one big party and he was the main attraction. All very strange. The two men who saw Edgar dangling from the balcony talked mostly of how histerical the king seemed, how he was sure that someone had pushed him over when they had seen no one. Just as Locke was about to leave the room the one man who'd actually seen Edgar a moment before he'd gone over stopped him to say.

"There is one thing, though. His majesty had a tear in the back of his shirt."

"A tear?"

"Yeah. I thought that maybe he'd brushed something during his frantic search but there was no evidence of it. I don't even think that he'd noticed it and I was too embarrassed to point it out." He added the end with a note of shame and humiliation of his weakness. It wasn't enough that there was a tear but that Edgar was in his bathrobe and little else.

"What was he wearing?" Locke asked much to the guards prayers that he would not.

"Bathrobe."

"Thank you." He'd asked them to go.

Checking the bathrobe for himself his eyes widened seeing the tear. It was a lot larger than he would have thought. There was no way Edgar would have missed this. It was impossible with the length of it. But the thing that struck Locke the hardest was that it had a bit of black gunk on it. The stuff seemed to be showing up everywhere an accident had taken place. But what was it? Oil from Edgar's machines. The man adored engineering and often did have swipes of oil smudged her and there on his person, but this stuff... it could be coagulated. Gumming up from time passed.

The feather tickled under his nose as he brushed it back and forth in thought. 'I need a break... I wonder what cook's made for lunch?'

...

Edgar Figaro walked into Figaro castle completely drained. His eyelids were heavy, nearly closed; his posture was slumped even at the knees, his hands nearly dragged on the floor. He looked beaten and weathered. His mind is a bog, thick and gone almost completely. His feet heavy, buried ankle deep in mud holding him in place so that his body stands slanted rather than erect. He hadn't even heard the guards when they greeted him at the door, just continued to his room; if he even knew where it was. Thankfully his body was moving on automatic. By the time he'd reached the bedroom, servants ignored, he only had to wait a moment before he could step into a hot bath. One foot at a time his body submerged to the neck and he finally felt himself relax. His thoughts allowed themselves to clear up. Only when they had it didn't make much sense. The last thing he could recall and actually give merit to was being in his office one day. He'd been startled? Maybe he'd broken something? He can't recall how many days have gone by. Was he asleep? No. He wouldn't have been outside of the castle if that were the case.

So all these images... whom do they belong to? These people he'd never seen before; landscapes, so he must have travelled someplace; it looked as though he'd been strangling Setzer; he had thrown up in a field... The early light cast shadows across the fields slowly dying grass but the thing that stuck with him was how rich in color his vomit had been. A very dark, almost black red. It had him wondering as he'd grabbed ahold of the rein of his Chocobo if he had had nothing but wine to drink in the last two days, and if so, had he gotten so drunk he'd done something stupid?

Sitting up, he pulled the band from his hair. The ponytail was up much higher than he'd normally place it and when it fell down it was greasy to the touch. How long had he gone without a bath? His hair fell about his head in a stringy, clumpy mess. Wiping his forehead from, what he'd hoped to the Goddesses was sweat. Edgar looks down at his hand and a chill runs through him.

'Blood... it's blood.'

It was as if his body had a mind of its own, and he thrashed about in the water spilling it over the edge of the tub onto the cold stone floor. Edgar thought he'd drown due to loss of his motor-skills sinking him beneath the scolding water. His arms and legs, even his hips had a mind of their own as he was jerked about in the water.

"Help me! Somebody!" He called out into his bedroom.

But his cries would have to be loud enough to pierce through the bathroom walls and door, and the bedroom walls into his common room where, outside of the bedroom, stood two guards.

A low laugh filled his ears when they weren't invaded by bubbling, thundering rolls of water washing in and out of them.

("I'll say this much about you Edgar, you're damned for trying to rid yourself of me.")

Iron sounded different for some reason. Tired. Almost asleep. And just as suddenly as the involuntary movement started, it stopped. Leaving Edgar heaving and panicked over when he'd experience the next one. But he'll at least be on dry terms during it. Climbing from the tub, he wrapped himself in his robe; water dripped from his body onto the floor leaving a trail where he'd walked. The king felt like a child wishing for his parents bed and room, where nothing but safety awaited him. Only problem with this desire is that both parents are dead. Climbing into his own bed, he pulls the cover around him leaving only his soggy head peeking out of the blanket. He shivered and trembled beneath the blanket though his body isn't cold. It feels more inward; like he'd been sitting in the root cellar with no clothes or boots on.

'Iron must have had control of my body... by the Gods what have I done?' He closed his eyes trying to remember every detail of the past few days but nothing came to him.

Iron must be blocking his thoughts from Edgar just as he had from him.

'Damn him...' He closes his eyes. 'But I'm back now... I can breathe again.' Body stiff, he straightens his legs painfully down the length of the bed to return the circulation to them that had been lost when he'd scrunched into a ball.

The door opened with a low creak. Locke walked into the room scratching his head in thought. He needs something to eat, but all that running around in the heat has gotten him a little dirty with sweat so he needed to change his clothes and wash up a bit before going to the sitting room. He'd almost missed the lump in the bed but Edgar had been rolling over and his risen knee caught his eye.

"E-... Edgar?" He couldn't believe it. What was he doing back here? When did he get back? And why hadn't the guards said anything when he came in? "You're back!"

Dropping the reason he had come into the room, he strides over to the bed wrapping his arms firmly around the lump.

"Locke..." A tear came to his eye and he wrapped his arms around the male in return, and is raised to a sit by the smaller male pulling him up.

Hearing his lover crying any urge to exact revenge on the man for rough-housing with him washed away and his grip tightened; one hand stroked through Edgar's messy hair. "Hey, hey ssshhh..." He tried soothing the man's tears. He'd never seen Edgar cry. Not even when his parents had died, he knew that Edgar had but he'd done it privately and the only evidence he had was the red rim around his eyes and the dampness on his cheeks.

"Locke... I feel like I'm losing my mind." He said outright.

"Its true you've been acting a little funny, but I don't think you're losing your mind." He's planting soothing kissing along Edgar's jaw and neck.

Shaking his head, Edgar silently disagrees.

Locke continued making soothing sounds to the hurt male. It was grating on him that he didn't know what to say to the man he loves, but Edgar's never shown this side of himself before so it's a little startling. He doesn't want to say something that will make it worse. But he's sure that his not saying something isn't making it any better. Pulling from the hug to look at Edgar's face, he sees fear shining through those handsome azure eyes. He's serious about this.

"Edgar..." Noticing the grease and... what is that, blood? Locke reached out and touched his fingers to Edgar's scalp, looking at his tips when he'd brought them back down his eyes widen. "Edgar, you're bleeding."

Shaking his head, he says. "It isn't mine." His eyes watered again. "I think... I think I might have killed someone."

Locke kept himself from a shocked gasp, but his eyes betrayed him. And Edgar looked away ashamed. Locke took that as a sign not to mention the things he'd been asking around the castle. But hearing Edgar speak confirmed it all. He really had beaten up the maid. There's a good chance that he was the one who'd killed his guards. He may have even been the one who'd stabbed the Chancellor.

"Edgar..." He'd started to say something but was cut off.

"At first I'd only been seeing someone in the castle... but lately... its as if he'd gotten inside of me and I-.." He began to cough.

The violent outburst shook his ribcage, hunching him over as he coughed into his hand. Even in pain his manners and upbrigning shine through telling him not to spread his germs around. Locke patted him on the back to help the spell go away.

"I'll get you some water." He rushed into the sitting room and poured a glass of water for the man returning quickly, he helped him drink it by holding the glass and tilting it slightly.

Spilling some off to the side of his mouth, Edgar drank hungrily and steadily, at first, but another wave of coughs sprayed the water from his mouth and all over the blanket over his lap.

"You're bleeding!" Exclaimed the treasure hunter looking at the mess on the blanket.

Looking at his hand, Edgar learned that it was coming from his mouth but another place as well; a warm trickle ran down his nose, lips and chin.

"I'll get the doctor!" Locke could scarsely hide the fear and panic in his tone as he dashed to the other room.

Edgar could hear Locke ordering the guard to get the doctor. His mind raced wondering what was wrong with him. Had he been injured in battle? Did he fall? On the hazy ride back to the castle, he'd felt assualted by monsters that weren't really there. Heard voices calling out to him, mocking or laughing, that also weren't there. As another wave of coughs came on, in the back of his mind he could hear another person coughing as well... it sounded like...

'Setzer... he... he'd poisoned Iron!'

"The doctor is on his way." Locke rubs his lover's back trying to comfort him the best his unmedical hands could. "Goddess, you're sweating bad." Running into the bathroom and nearly slipping on the water that had dripped on the floor he wets the rag down, bringing it back to the room he places it on Edgar's forehead. "Here, lay back. You rest a minute."

"Locke..." His voice sounds so distant, and he only hoped it was from fatigue rather than slipping away for Iron to take his place again.

"What?"

"I've been poisoned." He practically spat it out his voice was in such a strain, gentle coughs shake him only a bit and stop quickly.

Before Locke could bark for the doctor again the man walked into the room.

"He said he'd been poisoned." Locke moved aside for the man.

"Poisoned? Hmm. I'll have to do some test to see what kind, but I should be able to cure him. It'll be risky because I don't know how long its been in his system."

"What can I do?" He refused to feel helpless and stand by doing nothing for the man he loves.

"You can get me some clean water, and keep a rag pressed to his head to break the fever. He's burning up."

Nodding Locke walked into the bathroom to fetch a bucket from the cabinet. Whoever did this to Edgar will pay dearly.

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Setzer felt the softness beneath his head and body before he was able to open his heavy eyelids. He must have made it to the couch, but opening his eyes to a vision blurred, he could guess that he wasn't in his livingroom but infact his bedroom. But how? He never could have made it this far on his own. Someone must be here.

A shaking breath let go of a sigh off to his right. Turning his head he smiled seeing Terra walk into view. "You're awake."

"Thank you."

"Thank you." The woman nearly cried. "You really scared me, you know."

"I'm sorry."

"You'd better be." She takes a seat on the bed. "I've been treating your wounds... what happened?"

Setzer quieted.

"I saw your ship when I left Nikeah, and I also saw Edgar... he was on a chocobo leaving. I called to him but he didn't hear me." Her fingers brush through his hair. "The ship was a wreck, arrows and holes, and cards everywhere." She didn't mention the damage done: holes in the furniture, lamps broken, a slot machine vomiting gold coins. "Were you two under attack?" It was an obvious answered question, but she had to ask.

"Yes... by each other."

"I don't understand."

"Something's wrong with Edgar, he's lost his senses..." He swallowed thickly. "He believes that he's someone named Iron Lord; he's hired these people to attack us, and kill us. He hit Sabin first, and he'd planned on hurting you but I guess they couldn't find you."

"There's this shrunken thing outside on the grass... was that-...?"

He nods. "Yes. It was one of his men, a woman named Sonya. She'd threatened to hurt you... I had to kill her."

"I understand but... Edgar did this to you?" Shaking her head slowly, remembering what all of the man was bleeding, she just couldn't believe it.

"Not Edgar, this alter-ego, Iron. He..." He cried out in pain when trying to sit up and laid back down.

"Don't move, you're not fully healed yet." Crossing her hands over each other and a green glow engulfed them then spread over his body.

"Terra... you're... when did your powers return?"

"I don't know, I carried you to your room and... it just sort of happened when I started rubbing medicine on your leg. Its been two days, so I'm not sure how strong it is yet."

As incredible as that was that Terra's magic had returned, Setzer suddenly realized something. Edgar... She said it's been two days! "You remember how to fly the ship?"

She nodded.

"Good. Sweat heart, please, fly the ship to Figaro castle."

Feeling panicked by his unexplained urgency, she stands. "Okay."

"Edgar is in trouble. He'll need some medicine brought to him."

"Okay." She was already at the door.

"Thank you. And please fly urgently."

"I understand."

Setzer would never forgive himself if something happened to Edgar because of Iron. With the pain in his lower half reminding him of why he'd done it, he'll just have to get over it before he decides against telling Terra where the antidote is.

66666

Locke tightened his hold around Edgar when the male popped up from the bed. "Ssshh, you're safe."

Instantly soothed, the king rest himself back against his lover. As asked, Locke is keeping a wet rag to Edgar's forehead, and gently, almost like a parent would, is rubbing his stomach to comfort him from his latest episode of throwing up. The poison wouldn't have to kill Edgar if this kept up, dehydration would be his end.

"Edgar, what have you been doing? How did you get poisoned? Was it a plant? Did a snake or something bite you?"

"It was Setzer... I've done something stupid." He said in a shamed, quiet voice.

"Setzer? Why would he-..."

Edgar shakes his head. "I cannot say."

Frowning, Locke kissed Edgar on the back of the head. He didn't want to press the issue if Edgar doesn't want to talk about it. But he can't stop wondering to himself outloud. "He's usually so together- except for really inclosed places; it must have been bad if he'd done this to yo-..." Locke trailed off as a thought occured to him.

Sensing what his lover was thinking, Edgar shook his head. "He is not the one I killed." He assured Locke. "But I'd hurt him badly."

"Still... he shouldn't have done this to you." Smoothing Edgar's hair, trying to tame the uneven strands that fall over his forehead back, he wonders outloud. "He must have the cure, maybe I could track him down. Do you know where he was last?"

"Nikeah."

"That far? It'll take me too long to get there, even if I don't make stops."

"Forget about it. I'd rather hope that the doctors medicine works on me... I don't think he'd give me the antidote even if I'd begged."

Resting his chin on top of his lover's head, he looks out through the balcony door at the night sky. The day was already nearing over. The doctor had given him a good amount of fluids with some medicine infused with it. He wasn't sure if it would cure the poison or not, but it was the best he could do until he figured out what's inside the king.

"Why is all of this happening?" Locke seemed to be speaking to himself. "If I'd known, I never would have left you alone."

"It isn't your fault."

"I take some blame in it."

Edgar wasn't going to respond to that. He knew if he did Iron would undoubtedly say something smart and he cannot let that man get into his head again. Its so weird how it is... he'd always thought that if a person were aware of an alternate personality they'd be able to do something about it. But with Iron... he knows the truth. He's seen him and touched him for real! The man is not just in his head! He can't be... Even now Edgar worries that he could be lurking somewhere in the castle. Waiting... waiting... Maybe, if he were alone he could lure him out.

"Locke... will you please go to the kitchen and get me some Paloodeh?"

Chuckling, the man kissed his lover on the top of his head. "You are feeling better. Every sick child tries to get away with ice cream knowing they'll get it."

Smiling weakly, he says. "Nothing gets by you." Turning his head so he can see Locke's face, he kisses him on the lips. "With a little extra honey?"

"Always." He climbs from his pillowed placement behind Edgar and heads out of the room. With one last look back, Locke leaves the room.

A shaky breath expelled from Edgar's nostrils; his gaze is at his lap. He'd sensed something the moment the sun went down, casting dark shades over the desert.

"Its no use hiding, I know you're there." He says into airspace.

There's the softest rustle, had you blinked the sound would have gone unheard. Then there, off to the corner behind his dressing curtain, a black shadow emerged.