A/N: Only warnings are strong language and implied substance abuse… a T rating, at the most. This was written for rokukami's challenge – base something around the idea of faith.I don't know if I managed to do that very well… but hey, it's something.
Summary: At least it's not in shards.
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters.
Cracked Glass
Silence, Roxas decided, had many melodies.
There was the awkward silence that always seemed to seep into conversations with his uncle; there was the dramatic silence that dominated after his aunt had erupted at him from coming home late, again; and there was the bustling sort-of silence, like the one Roxas had just entered.
Cracked hands jammed into the pockets of his dark hoodie, Roxas stamped the snow out of his sneakers on the mat at the hospital entrance. Morning light spilled through the rotating doors behind him, casting a friendly glow to the atmosphere. It didn't matter though – Roxas hated hospitals, to be completely honest. Hospitals were where people hurt, where people lived in sickness – hell, it was where people died.
You better hope that's not the case, a voice snarled in the back of the eighteen-year-old's mind. Roxas glowered, but continued onwards, arriving to inform the lady at the desk that yes, he was here to visit a friend and no, he wouldn't be causing any trouble. And no, definitely not to steal anything.
"What the hell is there to take, anyways? White sheets and your crappy food?" The woman gave him a hard glare for that one, but pointed him towards the stairs anyways.
Roxas could have cared less, walking away from the woman. Didn't know what her problem was – if she was smarter, then she'd have figured out that his abrasive actions and harsh words were merely a monochromatic painting he'd designed years ago.
Bet you wish it wasn't so long ago. Shut up, Roxas snapped to the voice working in his head. I'm here today; doesn't that count for paying my dues? You didn't want to come though.
Eyes squinting from the vibrancy of fluorescent lighting, Roxas tried not to break into a run, or swivel around and leave the damn building. Old bleach, overdose medicine and stiff personal seemed to swarm at him from every side – I don't want to be here, Roxas seethed to himself. This isn't my problem. But you've got them. I said shut up, dammit.
Problems; huh, Roxas learned to deal with them. Including, he supposed, problems in the dead of night, two weeks ago. Problems where friends got a bit too rowdy; problems where one minute he was sliding in next to some loser that was drunk off his ass; problems where the next minute he was telling the moron to get his foot off the goddamn pedal…
Problems, overall, that Roxas did not want to deal with. And he wouldn't be dealing with them, if it wasn't for that morning…
"Roxas; you'll never guess what I found out last night," his friend – his closest one, at that – had said. Looking up from where he sat on the couch, Roxas watched Naminé swing her pale blonde hair over one shoulder. Pale pink lips curving into a smile when she heard no interruptions, Naminé added, "I was working my shift at the hospital – I mean, volunteering, not actually working – "
"Yes," Roxas cut in, flipping through channels on the her TV, slightly irritated. Naminé had always been far too concerned with tact – hence, the reputation for the politest girl in school. Which was, of course, why they rarely hung out in public.
Naminé, a long-time friend though, understood Roxas' image factor and had quietly accepted the after-school meetings and weekend get-togethers. Something Roxas had always silently awed her for… somehow, he doubted his new friends would perform such a feat for him.
"Well," Naminé continued, "I was talking to one of the patients there – and he's a really nice guy, by the way – and he said… he said he knew you." Roxas glanced up, interest now piqued. Cocking his head sideways, Roxas asked,
"Yeah? What'd he say 'bout me?"
Naminé chuckled, obviously satisfied with his newfound attention span. "He said… he said that he'd like to talk to you." Roxas stiffened.
"Who – who is this guy, exactly?"
Skin warm against the thick cotton of his hoodie, Roxas made his way up the stairs to the fourth floor. The fourth goddamn floor, when Naminé knew he hated elevators. Furthermore, Naminé was the only friend who did know. Like hell his buddies would find out Roxas was claustrophobic. He'd never live it down. Grumbling the whole way up, it didn't register with Roxas that it was only taking away more of his scarce breath.
Here. Fourth floor, fifth room on the left. Hands still resting in his hoodie's pockets, Roxas made his way over, and just sort of stood in front of the door, staring at the knob. Tufts of dark blond bangs fluttering over his eyes, Roxas bit his lip.
"No!" Roxas burst out, standing up, spilling his pop can. "I do not need to see him, understand?"
Naminé, though she looked frightened with the outburst, said timidly,
"But Roxas – he… you were there that night! You owe him!"
"What the hell, Naminé? I don't owe him anything! He got smashed, stepped into the goddamn car, and bam – not my problem; I wasn't the one driving." The scathing in his voice wouldn't leave alone, it seemed.
"Roxas…" Naminé stood up, determination flickering in normally calm azure eyes. Shaking her curtain of blonde bangs out of her eyes, she pleaded, "Please! He… you… you don't have any idea what he's done! I mean, he's got the consequences to deal with, and you know that he shouldn't have to…"
"What consequences?" Roxas snapped, anger clouding the corners of his vision. "It's not like anyone died or anything! He broke some ribs, lost his license, and has to go to rehab. Because, you know, that's just so goddamn awful. " Roxas' breathing was shallow, and eyes narrowed dangerously. Naminé looked away from him.
"But Roxas… aside from his family… Roxas… you're his friend…" Naminé whispered. Roxas sat back down, rubbing weariness out of his eyes. He hated being angry with Naminé like this… it always just took everything out of him…
"Why the hell does the moron want to talk to me?"
Out of instinct, Roxas ran a hand through his hair – a poor attempt to groom himself. For what? A voice mocked. Primping for an old friend?
He's not a old friend, Roxas fired back mentally, still standing outside the door. Old friends means forever. We stopped talking way back when we entered high-school, jeez. You did know him since you were kids, though. And you started hanging out with him again, this year.
Roxas felt a trickle of guilt, like ice down his neck. It's not my fault; he knew better – I tried… Clearly, not enough, the voice hissed in response. Roxas scowled, and flung open the goddamn door.
It's his own fault.
Entering the sterilized room, the first thing Roxas eyes were drawn to was a cascade of flaming red hair scattered against the white pillow. It stuck out like a sore thumb, really. The brightest damn colour in the whole room.
Axel's emerald eyes shot up from the television he had been watching, and widened in shock.
"What – what the hell are you doing here?" he snapped, recovering quickly from the momentary start. Roxas ruffled; Axel wanted to see him, and that was the best greeting he could give?
"Why don't you tell me?" Roxas sneered, backing up against the door that he had closed behind him. Axel's fiery red eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"What… ?"
"Naminé said you wanted to goddamn see me, so here I am."
Axel scoffed, and shifted his attention back to the television set. Not looking at him he said, "You got duped, loser. I didn't ask her to send anyone."
Roxas felt rage pounding in the back of his mind… evil, backstabbing, manipulating… women were impossible. And now, there was no way in all the circles of hell Roxas was going to stay here. This had nothing to do with him. Turning, Roxas was about to leave when –
"Aww – crap!" He heard the chink of plastic on vinyl behind him.
Looking over his shoulder, Roxas saw that Axel had dropped his remote. He had half a mind to ignore it and just leave, but he saw a flash of Naminé's goodhearted face before his eyes. Dammit.
Practically stomping over, Roxas picked up the stupid piece of electronic plastic from the floor when… his blue eyes met Axel's green ones, and for a moment, Roxas froze.
"Because, Roxas, I think…" Naminé said, winging her hands. "I mean… me and you were friends, when we met in the hospital, because you…"
"Yeah," Roxas finished, not meeting her eyes. He knew very well what she spoke of – four years ago. A year after he had been dealing with his parents untimely death. Naminé scooted over to his couch, and resting a hand on his arm, she said,
"Well… I mean… Axel was your friend, back then, you know? You said it yourself, he tried to help you… I know – I know, when they… I know it hurt… so why can't you…"
"Can I have that back?" Axel asked icily. Roxas was still staring at Axel though, and hadn't noticed. "Dude!" Axel emphasized, and leaned over to snatch it from the blond –
"Idiot!"
With a swift movement, Roxas had caught Axel from falling over the edge of the bed. Groaning, Axel slumped in Roxas' arms, one hand resting on his ribcage.
Roxas had both his own arms hooked under Axel's, supporting the slightly taller teenager. The redhead couldn't be eating right – Axel felt ridiculously light in his arms, and there wasn't nearly enough warmth coming from him.
Briefly, Roxas had a fleeting memory of trying to carry his friend when they were little kids – Axel had fallen from a tree at camp, and had injured his ankle too badly to walk. But that had definitely been when they were… what? Eleven or something?
This had to be one of the closest scenes they'd ever had, Roxas thought mildly. You haven't had a lot of chances for scenes though, have you? Isn't crashing your car into a parked vehicle when you're wasted a scene? The voice shut up momentarily.
"Are you gonna take your hands off me?" Axel growled, bringing Roxas back to the present. Roxas scowled, and shoved the ungrateful young man roughly back up. Holding his glare, Roxas said scornfully,
"I probably just saved your stupid life, loser. Not that it was worth it." For a brief moment, there was a flicker of fiery pain in Axel's emerald orbs. It extinguished quickly however, and Axel snapped back as he re-adjusted himself,
"Yeah? Well, you owed me it. It's your damn fault I'm in this stupid bed." It was Roxas' turn to wince, but the blond covered it up with,
"It's not my problem."
Axel glared, crushing any smugness Roxas had felt with finally saying what he had been thinking for the past fortnight. I shouldn't even be here…
"You're an ass," Axel seethed, picking up the remote that Roxas had dropped on his bed. The TV flickered; some action thriller or something, it looked like. Had to be, anyways. Axel was always into that – especially when stuff exploded. Typical Axel, to not have the tact to stop watching insane car chases after he himself had crashed. Eyes drifting to the television, Roxas almost smiled mentally.
Somewhere, he could recall middle-school days and sleep-overs, when the redhead always managed to talk Roxas into watching another wild, implausible action movie – only to fall asleep, and have Roxas recite the entire plot when he awoke.
But then, it had been one of those sleep-overs at Axel's that everything had fallen – Roxas could still remember the night. Being shaken awake by Axel's mother, coming outside in his tiger pajamas when he was thirteen to talk to the police, to hear about… Roxas' parents…
Entering high-school with no parents had had a dramatic effect, including in all of his relationships with people.
In the back of Roxas' mind, something stirred. Roxas cut off that dangerous line of thoughts though; he did not need to think about deceased parents while in a hospital, for crying out loud.
In Fate's sick way, on the TV there was a mad motorcyclist, going at full-speed towards a building. Then crash, bam and boom; the small house erupted in flames – vicious, hungry, consuming flames – and Roxas immediately dropped his eyes. A flutter of restless pain arose, scratching at the ends of Roxas' mind.
The TV flickered, and shut off quickly, moments after the house had begun to burn. Roxas turned his head sharply to see Axel's expression – Roxas felt a flash of anger; there was pity on Axel's face. Turning around fully, Roxas was about to snap something when Axel shrugged and put the remote on the stand beside his bed.
"I was getting sick of it," was all he said, eyes not quite meeting Roxas'. Roxas let the familiar scowl work its way back onto his face, but he merely stood where he was. Axel, still not meeting Roxas' gaze, said to the floor more than anything else, "You can go now, you know. You obviously don't want to be here."
"Don't tell me what I want!" Roxas snapped, surprising himself with the coarse response. He had no idea what it was about this estranged friend that upset him so goddamn much, but it did. It was… argh! This was the stupidest, lamest thing he'd done in forever. Count on Naminé for that one.
"Why the hell can't I, Roxas?" Axel rejoined, clearly irked. Backing away, Roxas replied sourly,
"You have no idea. Just because we knew each other when we were kids does not mean we have some lame mental connection now, got it? So don't you ever think you can – "
"Whatever," Axel cut in caustically. Now, Axel was meeting Roxas' eyes. The bottle-green orbs glittered; whether with pain or malice, Roxas was not sure.
Roxas opened his mouth, but no retort came out. Stopping half-way to the door, Roxas curled his hands into fists in his pockets, and dropping his gaze to the floor, he spat,
"It's your fault."
"What?" Axel snapped disbelievingly, voice defensive. With harsh undertones, Axel ranted, "You think for a minute that anything you did was my fault? Think you can pin it on any-goddamn-body? You – you are the most – you – argh! Just – !"
There was a collision of plastic on wall and a rolling of batteries on the floor, and Roxas knew Axel had chucked his remote at him, as awful as his aim had been. Awful? a voice hissed. Or was it on purpose? But Roxas wasn't caring right now.
Green eyes had become daggers, glinting in the painful light of the hospital room; Roxas glared back. Anger was pounding through him again within seconds; two weeks of building shame at his alienated friend's wounds was threatening to collapse; four years of built up defense mechanisms were cranking inside –
"No!" Roxas barked back at him. "You can't make me go anywhere!"
Axel looked ready to jump up and kill the blond, had the cracked ribs not restrained him to staying in bed. Roxas ignored the look of utter hatred on Axel and stamped over, only to stand right by the redhead's bed. There was no way he could leave, no way Axel was going to take control, no damn way…
"He just… I think…" Naminé said, leaning against the couch. "He's not… I think you need to know…"
Roxas continued to ignore the death glare, and said fiercely, "Tell me why!" Axel looked away, but said grudgingly,
"Why what?"
"Why'd you do it, huh?" Roxas practically yelled. It was amazing a concerned nurse hadn't bustled into the room yet, at the racket they were making. "Why the hell did you do all that stupid crap this year? You were doing fine, and then all of a sudden, just bam, and… and it's like – "
"Don't even! You've been doing the same stuff for four years! Ever since we entered high school, ever since you – your parents…" Axel trailed off, still not meeting his disaffected friend's gaze. Roxas ignored another prick of pain at the mention of his late parents and continued,
"So? That's different!"
"How?"
"I – " Roxas stopped, not knowing how to continue. Running a hand through his dirty blond hair and beginning to pace, Roxas tried again, "Even before that, I didn't have anything going for me! You – you had… it…" It as in… as in… Axel had always had a strong family, a good name – he made the grades and the clubs, he wasn't some… he didn't feel… outside…
Frustration rising, Roxas stopped his pacing and snapped, "Dammit, Axel! You're so stupid!"
Axel's eyes looked up sharply to meet Roxas'; he said with same amount of edge, "You're right, Roxas. I'm the stupidest person you'll ever goddamn meet."
"Why don't you change it then, huh?" Roxas couldn't keep the bite from his voice, nor could he look at Axel. This was so stupid – even a confession out of Axel wasn't making him happy.
"I don't need to know anything," Roxas said flatly. "He didn't… he just… he was a crappy friend anyways, so – "
Naminé cut Roxas off, when she burst out, "Roxas! Don't be stupid! Everything he did, he did it because… he did it… argh!" It was one of the rare occasions where Roxas had thoroughly managed to frustrate Naminé. Normally, her calm demeanor and self-confidence held her together for the both of them. Roxas stood up, and made to leave,
"Fine. I'll goddamn go; just don't expect anything." Naminé's eyes flicked up to meet his, worry wrought in her brow, and she sighed.
"Okay, Roxas," she said, weary. "Just promise me you'll learn something.
Roxas shrugged absently as he grabbed his keys, and left out the door.
"Why didn't you?" Axel replied, almost as bitterly. Roxas glanced up, to see his friend's eyes swimming in a sea of thoughts. Relaxing more on the bed when Axel didn't kick him off, Roxas prodded,
"Huh?"
"Never mind," Axel breathed. Almost to himself, he said, "You wouldn't get it, Rox. Never did then; never will now." Roxas went rigid, hearing his estranged friend use his old nick-name like that. It had almost seemed like a treat; something to coax him into staying.
It had been years since Axel had spoken to him with that name… and when they had met up again this year, after so long apart… Axel hadn't been nearly as self-placed. Hadn't been…
This was so lame! He had come here, at ten in the morning… just because he'd decided to be nice and stop by Naminé's house earlier… argh! Axel had wanted to see him, or Naminé had wanted him to, or something, but Roxas wasn't goddamn leaving until he figured the hell out why!
Calming the emotions frothing through his veins, Roxas breathed in. This conversation was going around in circles, and he needed to get to the point. So Roxas let his head hang, and still tasting suppressed emotion, he prompted Axel with a cold,
"Just tell me; I've gotta be able to understand, if you're half as stupid as you say you are."
Axel attempted a glare – but from knowing him since childhood, Roxas caught the twitch of a smirk that threatened to give him away. Masking the smirk for a sneer, Axel said,
"Waste of time. You're wasting my time, Roxas, just like you've been wasting it all year." There was little heart in his words, however.
Controlling the pining and frustrating that was boiling beneath the collected surface, Roxas asked once again, more quietly,
"Are you going to explain? Or do you want me to leave?" Roxas stood up and took a few steps towards the door, to emphasize the point.
An icy fire flickered in Axel's emerald eyes, but he said nothing.
Roaring in frustration, Roxas curled his fists so tight, he could feel crescent moons being engraved into his palm. Axel. Was. Such. An –
"Asshole!" Roxas burst out, reaching the door and opening it, prepared to leave. Forget this. Roxas was not dealing with emotionally defective best friends who were… argh! You're not exactly collected yourself. Shut up!
"Figures. Just walk out when you don't get things your goddamn way."
Roxas shoved the door shut and whirled, wanting nothing more then to punch the stupid idiot in his stupid face and just… just…
"Don't even! You – I came all the way out here, at ten-am in the morning, I came here, have been here for almost ten minutes of my goddamn time, and all you can do is – is… you can't even tell me what the problem is, you moron! After everything, after a crappy year, after crashing your car, after every goddamn thing, you'd think you'd smartened the hell up and – and…" Roxas struggled for words; his voice was growing louder and louder and louder and he opened his mouth and he was gonna scream something at Axel when –
"Listen to yourself; you're sounding as stupid as I did."
Roxas froze, whole body shaking with the release of pent-up anger, yet mind stiff in its thinking. Swallowing to calm his nerves, Roxas asked,
"Wh-what did you say?"
"I said you're stupid, stupid."
"Dammit, Axel; I swear – you're completely hopeless – "
"I guess we all are, aren't we?" Axel asked, slithering down in his bed so he could lay flat. Roxas saw him wince when he accidentally moved a bit too quickly. Pulling his sheets up around him, Axel looked up at Roxas, a strange expression on his face. "Hmm? At least you're learning the lesson now – it took me a whole goddamn year."
"Wh – I – I don't… start making sense, damn you!" Roxas snarled, glaring down at Axel. This kid, he told himself angrily, is so goddamn… stupid… But he was your friend, wasn't he? Shut – the – hell –
"Come on, Rox," – there it was again, his name – "You still haven't figured it out, have you?" Roxas let his glare slide off of his, and felt his mind paint the apathy back on with laboured strokes. Axel chuckled humorlessly, closing his eyes in feigned sleep. Roxas waited for something else, but didn't hear a word. At least, not until Axel cracked open an eye and asked, "What? You're still here?"
For the first time in their conversation, Roxas did not want to say anything. So he nodded absently, eyes focused on the comfortable-looking Axel. Pulling the sheets up even farther, so that his entire body was wrapped up save his head, Axel said,
"Look, Rox – I'm tired. I got ribs to heal; I got driving lessons I have to take, again; I get to go to rehab after that unless I wanna get goddamn sued. Life is already sucking major ass, and if you don't mind – I'd like some rest." Roxas glared, and said blandly,
"Naminé's gonna be pissed, if I don't come back with something."
"You want something from me?" Roxas rolled his eyes.
"Words. Something. Some stupid lesson; I dunno."
Axel snorted. Eyes flipping open for a second to shoot Roxas the strangest expression, Axel said, "Tell her… tell her not to worry; I still got some hope."
"What?"
Axel didn't answer.
Roxas waited for a bit more, and threw out a few instigating words to get something out of him. But Axel had officially fallen asleep.
Nothing new – he'd pulled the same goddamn tactic when they were kids, too. Roxas rolled his eyes, and jamming his hands back into his hoodie's pocket, he made his way out the door. He met a few glares of suspicious patients and staff – no doubt at the racket they'd have made – but otherwise, no one stopped him.
Flipping up his hood, Roxas felt his mind churning with thoughts as he made his way to his car. Same stupid Axel.
Some time later, Roxas pulled into Naminé's house – no cars in the parking lot, as expected. Standing on her front porch in the frosty winter, Roxas stared out onto the street. Axel's a moron. Yup – only thing that made any sense.
"Roxas!" The door had flung open, and Naminé – in her pale pink dress, in winter, holy crap – was standing there, beckoning him inside. He complied, and following her inside, he immediately helped
himself to her fridge. Grabbing a pop – Naminé hated having alcohol around her – he bumped his head on the top of the fridge when Naminé grabbed his thoughts by calling from the living room,
"So? Did you, you know, see him at all?" Scowling, Roxas rubbed the new bruise on his head.
"Yeah," Roxas grunted, snapping the pop tab. Naminé swept into the kitchen, and leaning on the door jamb she asked, tentatively,
"Well?" She raised an eyebrow in question. Roxas rolled his eyes and said,
"Yeah – and I know you set me up, by the way. He said you duped me, and – "
"What?" Naminé cut in, surprised. "But he told me yesterday… to ask you and everything! " Roxas leaned against the counter, sipping his drink and eyeing her suspiciously.
"Yeah, but still… he did say…" he replied. Naminé frowned and said, somewhat hurt,
"Roxas, come on. Would I really do something like that? Lie to you?"
"Maybe."
"Roxas!"
"Okay – okay, then…" Then… then he… sent for me? Everything Naminé had said… was… Roxas shook his head slightly, trying to forget the thoughts. If Axel had sent for him, had wanted to talk to him, then did that mean… did Roxas mess things up somehow? Had he let Axel down?
Wouldn't be the first time…
Roxas' hand started to shake, while the rest of him stiffened. It felt as though someone had thrown a bucket of icy water at him, washing away his mask and sending shivers down his spine. Axel still… Axel had wanted…
"Roxas?" Naminé asked softly, stepping over to him.
No. No – this didn't make any sense. Axel was a crappy friend, Axel was a moron, Axel crashed cars and partied, Axel was… no… then… had Roxas really screwed it all up? Had he? Huh?
The pop can in his hand poked his palm, having been slightly crushed in his grasp. His arm was still shaking.
No, no… it was Axel's own goddamn fault, if he was so amazing, he'd have known better… dammit… he would have… I can't look out for…
… but…
"Roxas? Did… did Axel say anything… is there something you want to say?"
Roxas turned away from her, chucking the still-full can into the sink. He couldn't… why hadn't he seen it? He was the stupidest person anyone could ever goddamn meet… he was sounding as stupid as Axel was… stupid, goddamn stupid… he still had…
"He still has hope," he said distantly, voice shaking a bit.
Roxas felt a firm, gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Roxas… " Naminé crooned. Roxas was too enveloped in his own thoughts to respond properly, or even maybe shove her hand off or something. He was too…
... "You wouldn't get it, Roxas."
Oh, but he got it. He… it made so much… sense… argh! Why? What the hell was so wrong with him that he couldn't goddamn see it? Why hadn't he seen it all year long? What the hell?
Roxas pulled away from Naminé, and staggered to the door.
"Roxas!"
Not thinking straight, he raced back onto the street, worn sneakers crunching against frozen glass side-walks. From somewhere behind, he heard Naminé calling after him again, but he didn't stop; didn't falter.
After everything, after abandoning Axel – his best friend, his oldest friend – for almost three years… Axel came back. Axel had come down. Because… because…
… argh! Why?
Roxas couldn't be worth it, but Axel had somehow had faith in his long estranged best friend. Axel had everything, Axel could have continued with everything… but bam, senior year… and… and… Axel gave it a shot…
What a moron! He should have known better! He was always so smart, so… argh! So much for all-goddamn-knowing Axel! Argh! This. Should. Not. Be. Roxas'. Problem! He… Roxas… I don't need this! What the hell – who the hell does he think he is… what the hell had Axel been thinking… ?
… maybe he had thought, no, he did think that on eye-to-eye… he could… help…
… no! Stupid, idiot Axel! Roxas didn't need his help, didn't want anyone's help! Axel threw away his grades, his reputation, Axel threw every goddamn thing away to try and bring Roxas out… well, Roxas didn't want out!
A faulty step, and Roxas was on the ground. Roxas moaned, and in his baggy jeans and dark hoodie, he remained on the ground. Where the hell had he been going, in the first place? Back to… back to… the hospital? The room? Axel?
An old friend?
Roxas did not silence the voice this time. Instead, circling his wrist with one hand, Roxas hugged his knees and moaned – but not from the growing bruise on his hip, not from the harsh cold seeping through his pants, not from where his head had met the ice… Axel's in pain, he thought, burying his hooded head into his knees. Rocking back and forth, Roxas mentally beat himself senseless.
There was a pattering of feet nearby, and somewhere in his scattered thoughts Roxas found the common sense to force himself to his feet. Edges of his vision growing hazy, Roxas tried taking a few shaky steps on the wrathful ice sidewalk before fumbling up again. But before he could meet the ground face-first –
"Careful!" Naminé whispered, wrapping her frail arms around him from behind. Though he was much taller then herself, Naminé was able to turn the shuddering boy towards her. Burying her face in his shoulder, Naminé breathed, "Just calm down, Roxas. Come on, just…"
Roxas was trembling – from the cold, from the thoughts, from Axel – and he numbly wrapped his own arms around his long-time friend. It barely registered that he was out, in public, where anyone could see him and Miss Priss like this… but Roxas completely blew off the thought.
His only true friend after abandoning Axel was here, right now, and right now, Roxas needed to stop shaking so much.
"Just promise me you'll learn something
"At least you're learning your lesson now; it took me a whole goddamn year."
Resting his chin atop of Naminé's head, Roxas squeezed back the hug. Having controlled his breathing, he placed an arm over Naminé's shoulders, pulling her close to him – the girl still hadn't bothered to put a coat on, jeez – and began dazedly walking home.
Naminé was sniffling beside him, still startled from her friend's emotional outburst. Roxas, staring into the reflections of the world off icy streets, tugged her closer. Right now, any goddamn one of his buddies could have come out, and Roxas wouldn't have given a damn. Roxas couldn't have given a damn…
… there were more important things to be worrying about.
Axel, after all, still had hope.