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No matter how he tried to breath, his lungs didn't seem to want to cooperate. Large gulps, small gasps. It wasn't getting enough into his lungs. The words that passed his cracked lips sounded like they were coming from far away, as if he was speaking from across Alexandria.
Kuja felt the grass under him. But something was missing. He didn't see anyone else- he was alone, staring up at the Iifa tree. It was calming, to lay in the cool grass. Even with the extent of his wounds, he could feel his muscles relaxing.
The genome couldn't tell if it was the fact he was dying or not. But he was able to let himself slump into the dirt. In the back of his mind was that feeling once more, as he let himself sink. Something was missing. But then he heard the loud crash of the roots.
Even if he wanted to protect himself, his body refused. He couldn't even make a fist, as he lay there. Kuja watched as they started to come closer and closer. Panic started to bubble up- he didn't want to die. He wanted to continue living. He knew what that meant now, what being alive was. It couldn't end this soon.
He heard a faint echo. It sounded like his name. Kuja tried to focus on it, instead of what was around him. But it felt like he was treading through water, his brain a muddled slush. The only sound that was loud was the roots overhead. But that echo repeated, a little louder. But he couldn't focus on it. The roots slammed closer, and closer. Kuja tried to force his body to move as they started to close in. Just as he braced for impact, a pair a hands grabbed his shoulders. Kuja's eyes snapped up, meeting wide blue eyes and blonde hair.
“You're dreaming! It's a dream! Kuja.” That was the echo, he realized. Zidane was holding his shoulders, keeping him pinned to the cool sheets under him. “Breathe. Deep breaths.”
If it was any other time he might have snapped back at the blonde. But Kuja's lips parted as he took a deep breath in, and then another. The smell of dirt and burnt clothes faded. He felt the bed under him, the light blankets on top. Zidane slowly let go of him, letting out a deep breath of his own.
Kuja looked slowly around them, confused. How had he gone from the Iifa tree to a bed? Where was this bed? He wanted to ask the questions but he couldn't voice his words. As much as he tried he couldn’t seem to get past the lump that was in his throat.
Part of him was still back in the moment, bracing for the impact of the roots as they closed in around him. But Kuja also realized what about it had bothered him so much. Zidane hadn’t been there, when he’d been staring above him. He had been alone, and that was probably the scariest part of it.
Zidane moved slightly and Kuja’s hand twitched. He wanted to ask him not to go, to stay beside his bed, but held back the words. It was weak, he told himself. But Zidane only moved the chair a little closer to him. “You were mumbling in your sleep… Saying you were ready to…” Zidane’s voice filled the silence. He leaned forward, pressing a cloth to Kuja’s face. The mage realized just how warm he suddenly was, but he couldn’t seem to do much more than move the blankets down a tiny bit. “Woah- woah Kuja. Don’t kick em off. They said you need to stay in the bed and stay under the blankets. I know you’re probably hot, but it’s gonna help kick this fever.”
Blue eyes narrowed slightly as Kuja thought. A fever? He had never gotten sick before- at least, nothing more than a few sniffles here or there. But then, he realized how much his body hurt, and the ache as Zidane fixed his blankets again. Kuja partially wondered when he had set the cloth down.
There were still so many questions swirling around in his head. Answers he needed and things he wanted to know. But that lump was still in his throat as he turned his head a little. Zidane settled back into his seat. “Why am I here?” Kuja forced out, before coughing.
“Here- drink this first.” Zidane pressed a straw to his lips and Kuja closed his eyes as he drank what was offered. It was bitter- it left a strong aftertaste against his lips and he grimaced as Zidane set it down. A potion, he could only guess.
But he still didn’t have any answers, as he looked back up at the blonde. The lump was gone now, and he took a deep breath. “I was at the tree- we were at the Iifa tree. Why am I here?” He repeated. The mage could feel exhaustion creeping back into his bones again, but he fought the urge to slip under.
“Kuja… You saved our lived. Mine and my friends. Why wouldn’t you be here?” Zidane whispered. “We made it back to Alexandria. It’s… It took months, actually. You almost died on me so many times, I didn’t think we would ever get back here.” He admitted, and Kuja felt cool fingers brush over his own.
He gently squeezed Zidane’s hand. Most of his words didn’t seem to fully register, as his eyes started to flutter shut. The silver haired mage made a small noise, missing the tiny smile from Zidane. “I’m not weak. I… I just…” He couldn’t finish the words, focusing on the feeling of the hand holding his own as he was dragged under and back to sleep.
This time he slept soundlessly, the presence of his brother beside him pleasantly chasing away any and all dreams he might have had.