A/N- I was originally going to have a big long back story at the beginning where I explained what they were doing there at Luin instead of out saving the world, but it broke the mood of the story so completely that I just decided to take it out and stick it in the author's note instead- so here it is! Anyway, as you could probably already tell, this story takes place after "A Second Start". The party has gone all the way to the Tower of Salvation, through Vinheim, found the Sacred Stone that allowed them to return to the destroyed room in the Tower, and decided to go back so that they could re-supply and better prepare themselves for the battle with Mithos. When they got back, both Sheena and Regal asked if they could go take care of some last minute business in Tethe'alla. The group gave them a Rheaird, and then took the rest over to Sylvarant where they decided to kill some spare time at Luin, the city they had become rather attached to after they did so much to help rebuild it. So, yeah. This is another two-part oneshot that takes place while they're waiting for Regal and Sheena to get back. Sorry if that was a bit confusing!

-Sapphire-

Whispers of Guilt and Blame

Part 1- Stifled Cries

"Bye, Professor! G'night, Genis!" Lloyd waved a hand at the two figures melting into the darkness as they made their way across the wooden bridge. He watched as the short half-elf bounced up and down wildly, his own hand waving enthusiastically back in the direction of his best friend.

"See you tomorrow, Lloyd!" The small mage wheeled around and leaped forward, and was immediately consumed by the low-hanging mists that were typical of Luin at night. The older Sage sibling, still visible due to her vibrant orange outfit, followed more slowly, turning slightly to face her student as she walked away.

"Have a good night, Lloyd. And don't forget to review your tables before bed; I may decide to give a short quiz on them tomorrow." Lloyd groaned and rolled his eyes, but continued watching until even the Professor could no longer be seen. Sighing, the swordsman leaned back against the short fence surrounding part of the Phoenix Inn, scratching absently at a loose splinter with his fingernail.

/Tables again… does it ever end?/

Unfortunately for Lloyd, it probably wouldn't. Not at any time in the near future, at least. None of them had any idea when Regal and Sheena would return from their business trips to Tethe'alla, and Professor Raine had decided that every spare moment of their time would be dedicated to going over all that they had learned from her in the past year or so since they had begun their Journey of Regeneration.

/Crazy Professor…/ Lloyd thought fondly, looking out across the dark lake to where he knew the houseboat was docked, though he couldn't see it. The swordsman quirked his mouth in amusement as he remembered how difficult it had been for Genis to convince his sister that living in the houseboat for a few days would help lessen her water phobia. It had taken the better part of a day for her to even consider considering the proposition. In the end, however, common sense won out, and she admitted that it might be beneficial.

The fog-like substance pressed closer, and Lloyd shivered slightly, feeling a little claustrophobic despite being outdoors. Scuffing his foot against the cobblestones in the street in an attempt to distract his thoughts, the young swordsman sighed again and decided that he'd better get to bed.

/And review those tables…/ Lloyd pushed himself off of the fence and walked around the corner to begin his ascent of the covered stairway leading to the room he was sharing with his father. He stepped softly as he walked up the solidly-built stairs of the inn, so as not to wake any of the others that had gone to bed before the Professor's study session had ended. Placing a hand on the door, Lloyd slowly pushed it open and entered the dark room. He then turned around and closed it quietly, trying as hard as he could to not make any noise. Presea was a fairly sound sleeper, but Collette had never truly lost her angel senses, and as for Kratos….

Placing his study supplies on the desk next to his bed, Lloyd turned towards the only other bed in the room, hoping that he hadn't woken its occupant. Almost immediately, the young man could see that he needn't have worried about waking his father…

…and then began to worry for a completely different reason.

From his vantage point at the door, it had appeared as though Kratos was asleep- and indeed he was. Now that Lloyd was paying attention, however, he could see that it was not nearly as peaceful a sleep as he had first assumed.

"Kratos?" The swordsman whispered softly as he began to walk towards the bed. As he drew closer, the concern in Lloyd's face deepened as he saw how much his father was shaking. It almost looked as though…

Lloyd stepped up to the side of the bed and shook his head slightly, wincing in sympathy. Even while dreaming, the mercenary tried to remain as stoic and possible. Based on his own personal experience, Lloyd knew just how difficult a feat that was.

"Kratos…" The young man brought his hand up to waist height, beginning to reach out, but started and stepped back as the unconscious man gave a particularly violent jerk, his own hands clenching into white-knuckled fists. Strands of auburn hair had plastered themselves to his sweat-covered forehead, and his teeth ground themselves audibly. Abruptly, his teeth unclenched themselves, and he gasped sharply, uttering a string of short, choppy words.

"No- no, Anna, I-" Unwilling to hesitate any longer than he already had, Lloyd reached out and grabbed his father firmly by the shoulder in an attempt to wake the man.

"Kratos!" He whispered, trying not to alert the girls still sleeping in the adjacent room. "Kratos- Dad- wake up! C'mon, Dad, you've gotta-"

His father's eyes flew open, instantly wary and not just a little paranoid. Suddenly, Lloyd's gaze was not resting on the seraph's face, but rather at the point where the ceiling met the wall, as he bent his head back, trying to ease the pressure of the sharp edge of the dagger biting into the flesh of his throat. Lloyd swallowed convulsively, grimacing as he felt the blade cut shallowly into the skin, his voice shaky as he spoke.

"…D-Dad…?"

Kratos' eyes widened as the wavering plea pierced his sleep-induced fuzziness, and focused slowly on the frightened face of the boy in front of him.

"Lloyd…!" Horrified, the mercenary jerked the weapon away from his son's exposed flesh. The muscles in his hand spasmed, and he released the hilt, letting it clatter to the floor. Staring in disbelief, his eyes slid out of focus once again. Kratos brought up a shaking hand to run it through his hair, but finding that to be an impossible task, as tangled and disheveled as it was, he altered the movement so that the hand was joined by another, both of them coming together to cover as much of his face as they could. Although the words were slightly muffled when he finally found the will to speak, the agony in his voice was unmistakable.

"L-Lloyd… oh, goddess, Lloyd, I-"

"Hey," Lloyd said gently, kicking the fallen dagger to the side as he sat down on the edge of the bed, shifting the mattress with the added weight. "It's okay. Really." He glanced away for a second as he continued. "I admit I had a bit of a flashback to Triet, but just like then, it was my fault- not yours." The swordsman turned his gaze back towards the pain-filled eyes of his father. "And besides… any 4000-year-old habit has got be pretty hard to break." Lloyd gave a slight smile as Kratos choked on a half-laugh, his hands coming away from his face to wipe at his sweaty brow. The mirth in his eyes died quickly, however, and guilt soon crept back into the mercenary's face.

"Be that as it may… it still does not excuse my actions."

"Well, duh. It's a reason, not an excuse." Kratos shook his head tiredly in exasperation at his son's unique logic, massaging the sore muscles in his arm. He didn't know exactly how long he had they had been tensed for, but judging form the discomfort, the man guessed it must have been several minutes.

"I should have been more aware of my surroundings; I apologize." Lloyd sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Hey- I said it wasn't your fault. If I don't care, why should you?" The seraph raised an eyebrow as he looked at his son, gently lifting his chin to examine the shallow cut he had unintentionally inflicted upon the boy. A murmured "first aid" and the small wound sealed itself- the only evidence that it had ever existed in the first place being a tiny drop of blood where one end of the cut had been, which Kratos gently wiped away with the edge of his shirt sleeve.

"Because although you may tend to think otherwise, the judgments you make rarely prove to be consistently accurate." The berated boy crossed his arms and glared playfully at his accuser.

"Well, excuuuuuuuse me, Mr. I-Can-Do-No-Wrong. Four thousand years might make you smarter than me, but it sure as heck doesn't make you perfect. You can be wrong too, sometimes… I think…." Kratos dropped his gaze to the hands in front of him as Lloyd trailed off uncertainly.

"No… you're right. I am certainly not perfect, nor are my methods or choices always the best. It is good that I have someone willing to remind me." The mercenary's voice hardened, and he began to sound a bit more like how Lloyd was used to hearing him. His tone, however, contained far more self-disdain than it usually did. The young swordsman glanced away uncomfortably.

"I- I'm sorry… I didn't mean-"

"No, Lloyd, it is I that should be apologizing, not you." Kratos held up as Lloyd's mouth opened again, effectively preventing the imminent string of protests.

"I believe we have gone in quite enough circles for one night." The young man rose from the bed as his father gestured for him to move, and then stood as well. "Now," Kratos said, searching blindly about the dark floor for a heavier shirt than that which he had on, finding one, and pulling it over his head, "If you'll excuse me," he walked across the room, grabbing up the sword that had lain against the wall and strapping it to the ever-present belt he wore around his waist, "I think I will take a short walk before returning to bed. I'll be back shortly." The mercenary paused with his hand on the door and turned to face the bewildered boy he'd left standing by his bed. "That is, of course… unless you wish to accompany me?" A tiny bit of repressed hope snuck into his voice at the end of the sentence, and the confusion was suddenly swept off of Lloyd's face, replaced by a look of dawning comprehension as he recalled a night merely a few weeks before during which his father had woken him from his own nightmare. A slow smile graced his lips, and the young man walked forward to stand next to the apprehensive man.

"Sure, Dad."

And with that, father and son strode though the open door and down the stairs, walking side by side underneath the bright stars through the empty streets of Luin.

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A/N- Well, there you go- the first part! Yes, there will be a second one. Eventually. Probably. Maybe. If I feel motivated enough to write it. If I do (which I really, really hope I do), I think it'll focus mainly on what provoked Kratos' nightmare, and Lloyd doing some of that awkward preaching that he's slowly become famous for. Yep. That's about it, I think. See you next time! As always, questions, comments, corrections and/or suggestions are welcome!

And don't forget- reviewing makes me update faster! I don't care if you liked it, hated it, or really didn't care either way- just tell me!

-pokes the several hundred lurkers out there on the net-

Oh, and before I forget. I ran into a bit of a conundrum while writing this that a few of you may or may not have noticed. I'll give a pathetic excuse anyway :)

Right….. the issue was, why did Kratos not just use his 'first aid' abilities in "A Second Start" when it seemed so easy to do here? My excuse: I'm pretending (or saying, since I don't anybody can really prove any different) that 'first aid' can only be used on open wounds where the skin is actually split. Since in "A Second Start" Lloyd wasn't bleeding, he really only had a bump and a headache, Kratos had to use something a little different, hence my somewhat random invention of the Reflector. Sorry if you don't like it- the excuse still stands!

-Sapphire-