Postby the_wolfs_howl » Thu Aug 23, 2007 12:02 am
Spoilers: Episode 40
Pairings: Scar's brother X his lover
Author's Note: Well, this one-shot went off in a completely different direction than I was intending it to. I think you can really tell the similarities between Scar and his brother in these last two ones.
There was a day I realized I don't want you to die.
We have had a rather turbulent relationship at times, have we not? When we were children, we would play together, but as we grew older our lives seemed to be slowly separating, like a loose seam. I became a teacher, you a warrior priest. We still saw each other frequently, but something had changed. Maybe it was because our parents had died, or maybe it had something to do with my beloved.... I know not.
When she was alive, I didn't notice, but after she was gone and all hope of her ever returning was dashed, I realized how often you had looked longingly at her. Your red eyes would burn like live coals – out of ardor, not anger. Your smiles were always forced and sad, and sometimes you quietly refused to be with us. I saw the pain in your face when the news reached you that she had died...and I knew that you had loved her as I had.
In my years of exile, I had a great amount of time on my hands. Too much time. Every day, I thought again and again of the look in your eyes when I came to you and said, "She...is gone." And I kept on seeing your teeth clench and your eyes harden when you discovered that I had used the Great Power. As I lay down each night, committing myself to Ishbala's grace (though I had fallen from it), voices whispered in my mind what I knew to be true but could not accept: That I had caused you nothing but pain.
I knew when I finally returned that you hated me. I hope you'll believe me when I say that nothing was more painful than knowing that. I could live with the rest of our people hating me, shunning me, cursing me. But not you. I avoided you, because I could not stand the thought that I might come face-to-face with you and see that hate in your eyes, looking right back at me...accusing me....
I threw myself into my work. The only reason the others hadn't executed me on the spot was because of the war (and, I told myself, because of the slight hope that I would be able to save them). I had to prove that I was more than just an exile. I had to save my people. In addition, I found that the harder I worked, the less I dwelt on the anger in your eyes, or the fear that we would meet one day.
That day came despite how much I dreaded it. The worst day of my life – today, actually. The day I realized just what I would have to do if I was to make the Philosopher's Stone. The tattoos on my body were complete, and I could feel the lives of my fellow Ishbalites writhing beneath my skin. And it was not enough to take the lives of those who were slain in battle. No; I saw how incomplete the Stone was within my flesh, and I saw just how much death was required. To save Ishbal, I had to destroy it.
I looked at my hands, at my chest and legs, and everywhere I could see the black lines I had drawn. In those black lines, I could see the faces of all those I had taken into my flesh. They looked at me, sad, pained, angry.... Just like your face, my dear brother. And I couldn't stand it. I screamed at them to be quiet and go away, to close their horrible red eyes, but they remained. They remained, just looking at me; they're still there, looking at me, angrier by the minute.
Yes, I know. I'm mad.
I think I've always been mad, little brother. Am I mad to say such a thing? No. Haha. You're the one who must be mad, for suggesting that you didn't know I was mad all along. I was mad for focusing on my own happiness with my beloved, and not caring that I was causing you pain. I was mad for chasing after her when Ishbala had drawn her into His loving embrace. I was mad for thinking of the Great Power, for seeking the Philosopher's Stone, for doing all these things that have caused you to despise me. And I am still mad, because I do not put an end to it. I am mad because I am afraid, and I am afraid because I am weak.
You were always the strong one, little brother. Isn't it funny? Usually, it's the other way around. I am the older brother; I'm supposed to protect you. But you were always the one who protected me. I realized today, when I wandered outside, not even realizing that I was naked, nor that shells were exploding all around me, that you protect me from my madness. When you are with me, your strength and clarity can keep the madness at bay.
It was then that I understood how much my madness had progressed, and why. In my exiled years, you were not there with me. You could not keep away my insanity. And because of this growing madness, I imagined that you hated me. But when we finally met face-to-face, as I had been dreading we would, I saw in your eyes only sadness and concern. You wanted to save me, but alas! It is already too late, little brother. I have been lost to the madness; the black marks decorating my body are a testament to that.
I am a broken man. I trudge through the sand with your strength, not mine. As the State Alchemist approaches and annihilates those with us, I can do nothing but slump down into the sand. I hear an old man shout at the State Alchemist, "You're mad!" and I feel like laughing. What does that man know of madness? He may be simple and base, yes, but not mad. Madness is when you cannot distinguish reality from hallucination, when you cannot escape from yourself, when your mind devours you from the inside out. Yes. That means that everyone is mad. Hahaha. It's no wonder that I'm mad; just listen to me! If everyone is mad, how can I say that I am mad and another man is not? If everyone is mad, does that make them mad, or sane? If everyone were sane, would that not make them mad?
But these questions must be saved for another time, for you are screaming. Surely that is not only my hallucinating brain deceiving me. No, I am certain that is real blood gushing down from your forehead and from the stump of your right arm. And as the State Alchemist takes a step towards you, ready to finish you off, I suddenly realize something: I don't want you to die. How could I have not seen that before? Ah, how selfish I am!
No, dog of the military. You will not hurt my brother. I will protect him as he has always protected me, and for once I shall be in my proper place as the older brother. I don't want him to die, not him, not my brother, not my only little brother!
What is that pain?!! That horrible pain, as though my muscles are being torn from my bones?! No, no, I know that pain! That pain that means more lives are entering my cursed body. But so many more than I have inside me. More faces are added to the ranks of the staring, accusing lives just under my skin.
At least the State Alchemist is leaving now. But you are defeated and dying, your lifeblood pouring out over the sand like a precious spring, welling up and flowing out from the ugly stump of what used to be your arm. I have studied a little medicine, so I can see that the wound on your forehead is not so grave. It might scar, but the blood is already congealing. As for your arm...you will not live long with a wound like that.
And suddenly...my mind is clear. Clearer than it has been for years and years. Even this close to death, you are keeping the madness at bay. I only pray that I will live long enough to thank you for it. You may curse me in the future for damning you with the lives I am pushing into my right arm, but that cannot be helped. You are not going to die, not if I can help it.
I am not mad anymore, though some might say that severing one's own arm and attaching it to one's brother is mad enough. I am not mad as I lie by your side, bleeding out my life on the sand so that you will not. For I am your older brother, and it is my duty to protect you. I have neglected this duty for long enough, so let me accomplish it now in my final moments. And even as I triumph in the knowledge that I have saved you, I acknowledge that you are even now protecting me from my madness. As long as I know that I love you enough to do this, I can know that I am not truly mad.
"No!" you scream as you realize what I have done. "Why, Brother?! Why have you done this?"
As your face slowly blurs, I smile and reply, "I didn't want you to die."
You can find out things about the past that you never knew. And from what you've learned, you may see some things differently in the present. You're the one that changes. Not the past.
- Ellone, Final Fantasy VIII
"There's a difference between maliciously offending somebody - on purpose - and somebody being offended by...truth. If you're offended by the
truth, that's your problem. I have no obligation to not offend you if I'm speaking the truth. The truth is
supposed to offend you; that's how you know you don't got it."
- Brad Stine