It's finished!

A humongous thanks to everybody who supported me throughout this story, especially those who gave concrit. You guys are awesome.

I'm not sure when I'll get around to writing more Kratos/Zelos stuff; I have a lot of ships in a lot of fandoms so it's hard to focus on just one sometimes. There are a couple of ideas that are on the backburner at the moment, though, but the problem is that they are EPIC--so it'll probably be a while before yall see me again...

I do hope you've all enjoyed this little Kratos/Zelos journey with me though, and I hope to see all of you again when my other fics make their debuts. -MeeLee

THESE LIES WE TELL: FINALE

Within only a few more minutes, they reached the forsaken place, its lonely spire long since reduced to rubble. Landing his Rheaird in the nearby forest, Kratos didn’t even bother turning off the engine as he leaped off, motioning wordlessly to Raine and Lloyd to tail him as they hurried toward the ruined tower.

The moonlight only barely penetrated this valley, casting a dim glow on the debris that littered the once-magnificent area as they picked their way around fallen rocks and rubble. Up ahead, the glowing stairs that one usually needed a Cruxis Crystal to activate were stacked neatly atop one another, tracing a clear path to the tower’s entrance. His hunch had been right, after all.

“Come,” he said, to no one in particular, and hurried up the stairs, feeling Raine and Lloyd close at his back. Leaping over a rather large boulder, he entered the seal room.

Mithos Yggdrasill did not turn upon their arrival, eyes fixed instead on the seal that had once housed the Eternal Sword. As they got closer, however, he spoke. “You got here very quickly,” he said. “I’m impressed, Kratos.”

“It’s because you’re so predictable,” the mercenary answered, keeping one hand firmly on the handle of his sword as they approached the blond angel.

“Am I really?” Mithos said, and turned around. “Then how do you explain the ease with which I seized this body?”

Kratos glared, opening his mouth to reply but Lloyd beat him to it. “It’s over, Mithos,” the young swordsman said. “What can you hope to accomplish anyway? Cruxis has been destroyed.”

Mithos frowned. “Cruxis was a joke,” he said, “a faulty organization fraught with mistakes and double agents. I have no need for such a weakness.”

“Then what do you plan to do?” Raine asked.

“To achieve what I always wanted to achieve,” Mithos answered. “To free my sister.”

“Martel is part of the Giant Tree now,” Kratos said.

“No,” Mithos snapped. “She is trapped within it, imprisoned there by you. But if I destroy the tree, I can free her from her wretched prison.”

“Martel watches over the tree!” Raine protested. “She wants to protect this world; can’t you see that?”

“It’s useless, Professor,” Lloyd said, stepping forward and drawing his swords. “He’s never been one to listen to reason, after all.”

Mithos glared. “You would stand in my way until the end?” he hissed.

Kratos drew his sword, feeling his Exsphere vibrating with pent-up energy. “Lloyd inherited his father’s…obstinance,” he said. “However, I will be the one you fight.”

Lloyd turned. “Dad, you can’t—”

“Don’t argue,” Kratos said, stepping forward. “Neither you nor Raine have an Exsphere; it would be a futile battle. And besides, this has become…personal.”

Mithos laughed at that. “So in the end, your human side wins over, Kratos,” he said, shaking his head. “I knew it all along…you’re as weak as everyone else. That’s why you—”

“Air Thrust!”

The blond angel leaped quickly aside as blades of wind cut through rock and rubble. Landing smoothly on his feet on the landing above the seal, Mithos glared. “How impudent,” he said, raising one hand. “Holy Lance!”

Even as Lloyd and Raine scrambled backward to avoid being caught in the deadly spell, Kratos leaped up, feeling the familiar warmth of his wings as he dove at Mithos, bringing his sword down in a deadly arc. Yet Mithos had not once been apprenticed to him for nothing; the blond dodged smoothly aside before summoning a glowing blade of pure light, parrying and counterattacking.

It became a deadly dance then as they fought their way back and forth across the ruined platform, attacks, parries and thrusts taking them through and around the broken seal. Mithos’s fighting style was reminiscent of Zelos’s, all graceful spins and quick pivots, but Kratos tried not to think about that as he thrust his blade forward, forcing Mithos back and giving him just enough time to charge one of his most deadly spells.

“Judgment!”

The heavens split apart, deadly beams of light tearing through the sky and shooting toward the ground. Ancient columns shattered; great boulders groaned and exploded into bits of dust as Kratos’s spell ruthlessly tore the place apart. Mithos dodged quickly, avoiding beam after deadly beam, but then two columns of light struck on either side of him; unable to dodge either left or right, he froze for just an instant—but that was more than enough time for Kratos to leap forward, driving his sword through his one-time friend’s body all the way to the hilt.

The light faded away. Mithos gave a sort of strangled gasp, face twisted in pain as he looked up at his former teacher. “Impossible,” he choked out. “You know whose b-body I’m using.”

“Zelos would rather be dead than enslaved to you,” Kratos answered. “He’s proved that twice already.”

“But…you love him,” Mithos said, coughing hard; blood splattered onto Kratos’s shirt.

The mercenary swallowed. “That’s why I’m doing this,” he said, and forced his blade upward, gutting his opponent. “Get out, Mithos,” he said as the blond gasped in pain. “Get out, or I will kill you. Both of you.”

Blood ran down the length of Kratos’s blade but he forced himself to ignore it as he stared straight into the blond angel’s eyes. “Mithos,” he said.

Mithos glared, and Kratos had thought he would never see such pure hatred in anyone’s gaze. When Mithos spoke, his voice was arrogant, defiant. “I tire of these games,” he hissed—a rush of air, a whisper of magical energy, and Zelos Wilder’s body sagged limply in Kratos’s arms.

The Seraph sank to his knees, one hand still holding the bloody sword, the other supporting Zelos’s motionless form. When he spoke, his voice was small, scared and far too human.

“Help,” he whispered.

Raine, who, like Lloyd, had been watching the battle from a safe distance, seemed to rouse herself at that word and hurried forward. “Lloyd! Got any gels on you?”

“Yeah—here!” He tossed her a yellow bottle and she dropped to her knees next to Kratos.

“Lay him down,” she said, and nodded at his sword. “And get that out of him.” Kratos obeyed, pulling his blade out with a sickening shikk of metal over flesh and tossing it aside as Raine tore off a strip from her shirt, soaking it with gel and pressing it to the grievous wound in Zelos’s chest. The redhead made no response, face as white as death.

“He’s got no mana,” Raine said, applying more pressure to the wound. “Kratos.”

The mercenary nodded, quickly placing his hands above Zelos’s heart and concentrating: a familiar glow gathered there as once again he poured his energy into the younger man’s body.

Raine, in the meantime, continued applying pressure with one hand as she dug through her bag with the other, but her moves were desperate. “It’s no use,” she whispered, as Zelos seemed to go paler still. “He’s lost too much blood, and the wound’s too serious. Without an Exsphere, I can’t—it’s impossible…”

Kratos made no answer, concentrating on his mana, staring down at Zelos as if his will alone could save him. Raine’s voice, in the meantime, had taken on a panicked pitch.

“It’s not working,” she said, entire body trembling as she pressed the gel-soaked cloth desperately to the wound; the white material had long since turned dark red. “I need a unicorn, Boltzmann, or something—I can’t—”

“Zelos.” Kratos’s voice was quiet, yet raw with desperation as he continued to channel his mana into the unresponsive form. “Don’t leave me.”

Lloyd, who had been watching quietly all this time, finally stepped forward. “Professor,” he said.

Raine didn’t seem to hear him, still muttering desperately to herself as she finally tossed her bag aside altogether, its useless contents spilling onto the cold ground. “Why—why at a time like this—!”

“Professor.” Very slowly, Lloyd reached into his pocket, extracting a small red sphere that glowed in his palm. Raine and Kratos both stared as the young swordsman offered the object up. “Can you use this?”

“An Exsphere,” Raine breathed, looking up at Lloyd. “But how?”

Lloyd sighed. “I kept it,” he said. “I always thought of it as Mom’s memento, so I kept it. I swore I’d never use it again, but…” He sighed. “Professor, please.”

Slowly, Raine slid her gaze from the glowing Exsphere to Kratos. The mercenary, however, simply turned away, closing his eyes as he drew on still more of his mana.

Raine turned back to Lloyd, carefully taking the Exsphere from him. “Thank you,” she whispered as she affixed it along with its Key Crest onto her right hand.

Taking up her staff, she set it gently against the still-bleeding wound and concentrated. Glowing white magic soon began to gather, forming a pulsing sphere of energy above the injury, and Raine took a deep breath, Exsphere shining in the darkness.

“Resurrection.”

Light flooded the room, surrounding them with warm, vibrating life energy. Then it receded as quickly as it had come, folding in on itself, pulsing as it gathered in Zelos’s wound. Then with a sudden flash it disappeared, and Zelos’s entire body spasmed as the redhead gave a soft cry, jerking sideways and coughing as he gasped for breath.

For a moment all was silent except for Zelos’s deep, shuddering breaths. Then Raine gave a relieved sigh, wiping her eyes as she carefully detached the Exsphere and held it out to Lloyd. “It’s done,” she said, and smiled. “Thank you.”

“He’ll be all right?” Lloyd asked, dropping the Exsphere back into his pocket.

Raine nodded, watching as Kratos reached slowly forward to gather Zelos to him. “He’ll be fine.”

They were silent for a moment before Lloyd turned. “I’d…better go check on those Rheairds then,” he said, and without another word he walked briskly out of the room. Raine, after a moment’s pause, followed.

Kratos in the meantime just held the redhead close, feeling Zelos’s heartbeat thudding against his own chest and, for the first time, believing in the grace of a god.

---

The Meltokian night was calm and inviting in the last days of autumn, and eighteen-year-old Lloyd Irving was enjoying its cool caress, tilting his face up and marveling in the moonlight that glowed even through his closed eyelids. A full day had passed since the unfortunate incident with Mithos, and inside the house, he knew, Colette and Genis were writing a letter to Sheena, and Raine and Seles were watching over Zelos. The redhead had yet to awaken from his ordeal the previous night, but Raine was confident he would make a full recovery.

“Lloyd.”

The young swordsman sighed at the familiar voice; truthfully, he had been expecting it. Turning, he nodded at the auburn-haired mercenary standing just inside the balcony. “Dad.”

Kratos Aurion took a careful step forward. “We need to talk,” he said.

“Yeah,” his son answered. “We do.”

They were silent for a moment before both speaking at the same time.

“I haven’t thanked you—”

“You’re not forgiven—”

They both stopped. Then Lloyd nodded at Kratos, and the Seraph sighed and started over. “What you did for Zelos, lending Raine your Exsphere,” he said. “It was very noble.”

Lloyd looked away. “He’s my friend,” he said. “I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.”

“Still, it must have taken a lot of courage to call on your mother’s power again,” Kratos said. “So thank you.”

His son looked up at that. “I think…that’s what she would have wanted,” he whispered.

Kratos was silent for a moment before finally sighing. “Lloyd, Zelos and I—”

“I still think it’s wrong, and I haven’t forgiven you,” Lloyd interrupted, voice soft. “But I do think that…if Zelos can make you happy like Mom once did, then it’s really your choice, isn’t it? I don’t have the right to stop you.”

The Seraph stepped forward. “Lloyd—”

“Kratos.”

They both turned to see Raine standing in the doorway. She looked slightly flushed, but when she spoke, her voice was steady. “He’s awake. And he’s asking for you.”

Kratos turned back to Lloyd; his son shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not going to get in your way,” he muttered, “But…But that doesn’t mean I have to like it, understand?”

Kratos smiled at that. “That’s fine,” he said, turning and entering the house, nodding at Raine as he passed.

He met Seles at the top of the stairs, and she offered him a wary smile. He returned it as best he could, heading for the room at the end of the hallway and slowly pushing the door open.

He couldn’t remember Zelos ever looking as vulnerable as he did then, buried beneath the sheets, skin still pale and drawn tightly across his bones. His eyes were closed and his breathing steady and yet Kratos knew, somehow, that he was awake as he slowly crossed the room.

“Zelos.”

The redhead’s eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus on him before Zelos smiled, wincing slightly in pain. “Hi.”

Kratos took a careful seat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine,” was the slightly hoarse reply. “Been better.”

The mercenary nodded. “And Mithos?”

“Gone, and good riddance.” Zelos looked up at the ceiling. “Guess I won’t have to throw my mirror out after all.”

Kratos smiled at that, and they were silent for a moment before Zelos sighed. “I screwed up real bad this time, didn’t I?” the redhead murmured.

“No one could have predicted that Mithos would survive,” Kratos answered. “He used all of us, me especially. He manipulated me so easily—”

“I mean, the least I could’ve done was conserve enough mana to actually be able to feel it when we kissed,” the redhead continued smoothly. “Mithos said it was really hot too. I feel so gypped; the first person I’ve really been attracted to in who knows how many years, and I miss out on the big event.”

He actually laughed at the thoroughly shocked look Kratos gave him, coughing slightly as he did so. “But seriously,” he said, smiling. “After going through all that crap…don’t you think I deserve something for my trouble?”

For once in his life, Kratos decided not to argue. “Very well,” he said instead and, leaning down, gently brushed Zelos’s lips with his own.

The redhead reached up with one hand, lightly stroking his hair as they kissed lazily. Then Kratos pulled back a bit, smiling as he murmured against Zelos’s lips, “You’re such an idiot.”

“Mm,” the ex-Chosen answered. “Your idiot.”

“Yes.”

Zelos sighed, blinking slowly as his hand slid gently out of Kratos’s hair. “You’d better be here when I wake up,” he mumbled, blue eyes sliding closed.

Deciding they could save serious conversation for later, Kratos just took Zelos’s hand, smiling as he nodded. “I will be,” he answered. “Always.”

END

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A/N: And that's all. I have ideas for a sequel to this, but I'm not sure if I'll go through with it. Opinions?