Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts
A/N: Okay. I tried. I really, really tried. No, really, I did.
This was supposed to be a relatively short one shot but I got way too into it (of course) and now it'll be a really long two part … two shot. If that's even a term… whatever. This was formerly titled Gasoline, because when I was first thinking about this, all I could think about was Axel … and a highway and fast cars and shit. As the story came together, well, all of that pretty much changed.
I wrote Axel and Roxas's characters a bit differently that I'm used to. Axel's a bit more reserved in this whereas Roxas is the more livelier one. It's different, but kind of interesting at the same time to switch things around. I'll see where this goes.
Bah. I'm no good at these author note things. It's why I hardly right them.
Well, carry on.
x
What New York Used To Be
[PART I]
x
what easy used to be. what love used to be. what drugs used to be. what tv used to be.
I'm lying on my back in the middle of this road.
I can feel the abstract rhythm of my failing heart beating against my weakened ribcage. It's irregular, skipping and beating out of sync with my mind and my soul. My hands rest upon the razor sharp edges of my hips, threatening to break through the hold my fragile skin has upon them. They slide down those harrowing hills of death, moving across the hollow concave of my emaciated torso.
I can see the bones; feel them, as they increase in number.
Maybe I am sick, maybe this is wrong. Maybe what I'm doing isn't right, but this has all been said before. My story has been rehashed a million times over, every word flowing from my existence coming into reality from another person's mouth. I breathe in again.
On this night, I will let go of everything.
6/6
4:12 AM
-x-
His emaciated frame was going to end up wrapped around the railing of the highway by the end of the night, as he rounded another narrow turn at nearly fifty miles per hour.
He leaned low; almost feeling his knee hit the pavement. His bike eventually straightened out as he headed down into the harrowing pass before him. He was flying, the wind rippling through his clothing as he rushed further into the warmth of the spring night. He was pushing whatever limits he could to test the truth of his humanity.
His name was Axel. Currently twenty three, turning twenty four by the middle of the summer and he was on his way back to his beloved, polluted, city of lights. The only place on Earth that never seemed to sleep.
He was sixteen when he left New York. Dropped out of school, got his GED and made a decision to head north. He needed a new place to settle away from his jaded life on 27 Central Park West. And on a crisp spring morning with nary a cloud in sight, he packed up everything he cared about, boarded a bus at Port Authority and never looked back. The destination? He had no idea. He just knew that he was making his way out and he was never going to look back.
At least, he never thought he'd be looking back. That is, until now.
He had been in Winthrop. Some no name town not too far from Boston when he got the call. His old man—who he hadn't been in contact with in years—had passed away. And now Axel was coming back to pay his respects. After all, he was a good son, wasn't he?
Good son … right.
Not even halfway into his journey, and already he was beginning to wonder if this was a good idea at all. Or rather, why did something so minute have such control over him? In the form of clichéd thoughts, Axel would try and rationalize within his conflicted psyche by telling himself, that's my father. That was his father. He had to go, didn't he?
And besides, no one said he had to stay in New York, right? He was just coming back after his near seven year absence to see the corpse and be done with things. After which, he would be right back on his bike to continue on with his mundane gallivanting all over New England.
And yet, in all honesty, he was starting to tire of his routine. He never stayed anywhere long enough for anyone to get a name, just enough to make an impression that would leave behind whispers that trailed red lights into the night. He did have a house, though. A mansion in Hartford, Connecticut. It was just so he had somewhere he could rest for awhile before he ran off into the night again.
It wasn't like he had to work, either. His father was always giving him insurmountable amounts of money to use at his discretion. And what did Axel have to do? Just stay away. That's all his father had told him to do before he left. He didn't care what the cost; he would keep giving him money. As long as he kept that disease—that unnatural ideology—out of his home.
And so, Axel did just that.
That was, until his little sister broke the silence with a phone call nearly six months ago.
"Axel? It's Kairi … I found … uhm, got your number from Dad the other day. I'm calling to talk to you about Dad. He's … not doing so well. He didn't want me to call you, but I thought I should. You should know. We never hear from you. I miss you so much. Call me back soon, okay?"
Oh, little Kairi.
"Hi, Axel. It's Kairi again … I don't know if you got my last message. I know it's been a long time since we talked, but we really need you here right now. I would really like it if you were here right now. Dad's is probably going to need surgery … the doctor's are saying they're doing all that they can…"
She was barely out of elementary school when he left. She had to be at least fourteen or fifteen by now, right? Almost the age at which he left home.
"Axel … it's … it's Kairi. Please, come back to New York. I … we really need you here right now. Dad … is … he …"
And what would happen now? Their mother had died in childbirth with Kairi and now with their father gone as well, what would happen to his little sister? Would he be forced to assume guardianship over her? He would have to look after her, wouldn't he? He could barely look after himself half the time; he couldn't imagine looking after his kid sister, too.
It was too much to think about all of this now. Axel shortly resolved that he'd figure all of it out when he got there. All he could do now was speculate. It made no sense trying to figure out what he wouldn't know until he got back to New York.
Besides, Axel should have been focusing on the road rather than getting lost in his thoughts. Because if he hadn't, he sure as hell would have missed the body lying in the middle of the road as he cut around another bend at a less than legal speed.
Body? Road? What?
It didn't take long for Axel to realize that he was staring at the sky. His back was pressed against the gritty concrete of the poorly paved road and he was pretty sure his artfully distressed and ripped designer jeans had been un-artfully and unintentionally ripped from his spectacular wipe out. He flipped back the visor of his helmet and slowly removed it from his head and set it to his side. He could hear the faint hum of his bike a little further up the road.
After regaining some control of his body, he chanced sitting up to make sure he hadn't broken anything. Fingers? Still attached. Toes? Still functional. Head? Feels okay. Legs? … Well, his knees were bleeding somewhat, but he'd live. Arms? Still usable. Axel breathed out a sigh of relief after giving himself the once over. Perhaps luck was on his side tonight.
He got to his feet and checked on his bike first. It was still in operating condition as he bent down to pick it up and stand it upright again. He sat his helmet on the seat and then turned back to the body lying in the middle of the road.
"What the fuck …?"
It was still lying perfectly still. Ironic that it was unharmed while, Axel was currently nursing two fucked up knees and a throbbing headache. Sighing, Axel reached up to massage his sore neck as he tried to gauge what he should do about his current situation. Axel was known for doing crazy shit. It was the whole basis on which his life was built upon. But he didn't do the whole dead body in the middle of the woods at night shit. No, nuh-uh. Even Axel had some type of limits.
The body didn't really look … dead now that he got a closer look at it. Actually, he saw that it was still breathing. Feeling a slight nagging in his conscious—he did have one, albeit, small—Axel advanced slowly to the body with his guard up the entire time.
It was a boy. He was young, probably around his sister's age or a little older. Blonde hair and a baby face. He was dressed in jeans they looked like they were cutting off the circulation to his dick, standard beat up black chucks and a worn hoodie. He didn't look dead, but he was so still, it made Axel think otherwise. His breathing was slow and even. It didn't look like someone had put him here … rather like the kid had walked there and passed out of some other type of strange shit.
And so, Axel curiously went with a different approach. He poked the kid in his face.
The first thing he noticed was blue eyes. Bright, focused and sharp. They instantly focused on Axel and never wavered. "You were supposed to hit me. Not run off the road and nearly kill yourself."
So the kid was alive. That was one good thing at least.
After getting over his minor shock, Axel raised an eyebrow in question, "Come again?"
He nodded his head over to Axel's bike that was parked on the shoulder of the highway. "Get back on that bike and run me over already."
Axel had gotten a lot of requests to do a bunch of crazy shit in his twenty three years of life. But no one, not even that kid he met in Boston with klismaphilia, had asked him to do anything as absurd as what … (we'll call him Blue Eyes for now) … Blue Eyes wanted.
Axel's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Are you fucking insane?"
"If you talk to my therapist, he'll probably tell you I am."
"Get up." Axel commanded in exasperation. He didn't have time for the teen angst tonight. "Are you trying to kill people by sending them flying off the road when they see you just lying here?"
"Actually, I was hoping for someone else to do the honor." Blue Eyes replied dryly.
"Is this some kind of joke?" Axel asked, looking about him as if he were searching for cameras. "I'm waiting for the camera crew to jump out and tell me surprise or some shit."
"You can find someone to tape this if you like." Blue Eyes replied as he shrugged his shoulders, "Wouldn't matter, really. As long as you kill me, that's all that I care about."
Axel squinted hard at the kid, before shrugging and standing back up. He put his helmet back on and got back on the bike. He revved up the engine a couple of time and turned his attention back to the kid in the road. Well …
"You're actually going to do it?" Blue Eyes asked him in what appeared to be amazement. His whole despondent attitude from earlier had all but disappeared.
"That's the plan, isn't it? That's what you asked me to do, right?" Axel replied, flipping up the visor so he could look down at Blue Eyes.
"If someone told you to take it up the ass, would you do it?"
"Actually, I'm more on the giving side." Axel retorted, nonchalantly.
Blue Eyes laughed loudly into the night air, "To what? Sexually confused boys looking to have that infamous one night of experimentation at band camp? No thanks, not buying it Firetruck."
"Firetruck?" Axel asked through clenched teeth. People were always giving him shit about his hair. And, yes, despite popular belief, it was natural. The carpet did indeed match the drapes. Curious? Take a look for yourself. He didn't care.
"The hair is distracting." Blue Eyes shrugged his shoulders, "Is it even real?"
"Be my guest if you're so curious."
Blue Eyes looked at him for a minute and then laughed that same dry, sardonic laugh again. "No, thanks. I'm good." He turned away from Axel and then looked further up to the road in the direction Axel had come from, "Hmm … you know, maybe this can wait for a bit. You seem interesting enough. Want to humor me a bit before I die?"
"Look, kid, I don't have time to fuck around with self-deprecating, emo ass teenagers who can't suck up their problems and handle them like adults. Do you want me to kill you or whatever the fuck it is so I can get on with what I was doing, already?"
Blue Eyes blinked at him and shrugged, "Kind of judgmental aren't you? You seem kind reckless yourself. How fast did you take that last turn back there?"
Axel sighed and got off his bike. He walked over to Blue Eyes who was watching his every move. "Get up."
"You're supposed to kill me, first."
"No, I changed my mind. I'm not doing that crazy shit, anymore. Get the fuck up or I'm calling the cops to come get you."
Blue Eyes turned away from him, "I'm not moving."
"And neither am I." Axel snapped, crossing his arms.
"Fine by me." Blue Eyes replied. As Axel was removing his phone from the front pocket of his leather jacket, Blue Eyes laughed darkly, "Good luck getting any reception out here. It's a complete dead zone." He seemed to retracting back to his former melancholic tone, "If I tell you why I'm out here and why I want to die … will you kill me then?"
Axel stuffed the phone back into his jacket and shrugged, "Only if you get out of the road first."
Blue Eyes inhaled and exhaled loudly and got to his feet. His clothing seemed to swallow him whole as he got to his feet and dusted himself off. He walked over to the shoulder and hopped up on the railing. Axel noticed there was a beat up, discarded, white and black checkered book bag not too far away from where the kid had been lying.
"Runaway?" Axel asked.
Blue Eyes laughed as if he were mocking Axel for his question, "Not even, I'm not that lame…" He cocked his head to the side, "Oh no, I had to actively work to get myself to the place I'm at now. I was put out."
"Meaning?"
"You mean I don't look sick to you?" Blue Eyes asked, eyebrows rising in question.
"Fucked in the head, yes." Axel rolled his eyes, "You can't see shit out here, and it's too dark." He nodded toward a lamppost not too far from where they were standing, "Even those things don't do much for visibility."
Blue Eyes leaned forward and slid off the railing. He turned around to Axel, his eyes inexpressive. "Well, in that case, do you wanna guess?"
Axel sighed, "I don't know. What are you, like, fifteen? Sixteen? Let's see, at your age you're probably taking drugs and crashing cars or some shit. I bet your parents are shipping you off to dry out somewhere during the summer." He glanced around, "Seeing as there's a bus station not too far from here, I'm guessing they put you on a bus bound for some place in the middle of nowhere where you're supposed to realize that what you're doing is wrong, and yaddah, yaddah, whatever. Am I close?"
"Actually, I just turned seventeen this winter." Blue Eyes corrected him, "And it's not drugs, got myself a little friend called an eating disorder. Yes, yes, mother wanted to get rid of me and the step father happily put the plans in motion. Called up the biological father who I haven't seen since I was three, and, of course, lives in New York and asked him if I could come stay with him. So bingo, right on. I'm a walking, talking, portable Lifetime movie with a male lead."
Axel stared at him, "So …?"
"Oh, I don't throw up. I'm one of the ones who like to starve themselves until you see all my bones sticking out." He replied with a sadistic sort of mirth. Blue Eyes crossed his arms over his chest and began pacing slowly, "I spent last summer in residential. Started starving myself again this January and barely graduated because of it." He shrugged, "So, I tried my mother's last ounce of patience. She told me I was going to live with my father, put me on a bus to NYC and here I am in the middle of Ass Fuck Nowhere, Massachusetts trying to convince some pretty boy with clown hair to kill me."
"…There's more to this story than that."
"Not really." Blue Eyes replied, "So, you gonna do it or what? Cause I'll go right back and lay down in the middle of the road. If you won't do it, someone else has to." He began walking over to the road again, "Figure I'll fall asleep at some point, right? I won't feel it then if I'm sleeping … or at least not as much."
Axel dug his hands into his pockets and bit the inside of his cheek. This was impulsive, but maybe it would work. And besides, Axel liked impulsiveness sometimes. He was never one to play it safe. "…Kid, what if I take you with me? Would that change your mind?"
"Huh?" Blue Eyes asked.
Axel folded his arms over his chest, "I could drop you off anywhere you want to go. You don't even have to go to New York if you don't want to. Just … don't kill yourself."
"And why not?"
"Because it's dumb." Axel said, sighing loudly in aggravation. "You're a kid. You haven't experienced anything yet; you just graduated from fucking high school. You're a baby in terms of life experience."
A smirk, a challenge really, came to Blue Eyes face, "You think so?"
Axel sighed again, "Yes. I do."
"Hm," Blue Eyes seemed to be mulling something over in his head and then turned away from Axel. He walked back over to the shoulder of the highway, picked up his checkered book bag and slung it over his shoulder. Next, he walked over to Axel and cocked his head to the side in question, "Anywhere?"
"From Massachusetts to New York." Axel replied.
"That's a pretty limited anywhere, Firetruck."
"Axel." Axel seethed "My name is Axel. That's A-X-E-L. Got it memorized? And, okay, it's not anywhere. But, I'll take you anywhere you want within that vicinity."
"Okay, Axel. I'm Roxas. That's R-O-X-A-S. I hope you have that memorized." He replied, mocking the way Axel had pointed to his head for emphasis. Roxas glanced at Axel's bike, "So, you want me to stay alive, huh? I don't know about that. I saw how you were driving back there, you know? You might kill me with your wonderful driving skills."
"Shut up, kid." Axel rolled his eyes at Roxas and walked over to his bike. He motioned for Roxas to follow. "I don't have another helmet so hold on tight."
"Ooo, aren't we dangerous?" Roxas deadpanned as Axel got back onto the bike and Roxas climbed on behind him, "So, Firetruck … mind if I call you that? I've grown a bit attached to it in the short time we've known each other."
"Axel. Call me by my name." Axel snapped, flipping his visor shut.
"Fine, fine." Roxas replied, tightening his hold around Axel's abdomen, "Damn, do you eat? You feel as skinny as I did at my lowest."
Axel groaned mentally, wondering if he really did the right thing by allowing the kid to hitch a ride with him. Well, better that than him lying around in the middle of nowhere waiting to be killed by oncoming traffic in the early morning.
"Yeah, so anyway, Axel, where are you headed?"
"New York." Axel replied, pulling in the clutch and shifting gears.
"For?"
"To pay my respects to my old man."
"Dead father, huh?" Roxas began, "Guess this movie has two male leads. And the plot thickens."
"Could you be any more disrespectful, kid?"
"Can't help it, Firetruck, it's engrained into my personality. I'm not really known for winning the Mr. Congeniality award."
"I thought I told you to stop calling me that." Axel snapped.
"Well then, stop calling me kid and we have a deal. How old are you anyway?" Roxas asked.
"Twenty three." Axel replied.
"And I'M a baby? You're even worse. At least I'm at the part of my life where every day's a party. You're going to be entering your quarter life crisis in two years. Pretty soon you'll be questioning where your life is going in a few years. Then, you'll get all mopey or some shit and travel to some foreign country to try and find meaning in your life or something as equally sad and pathetic. Me? I'll just pump drugs into my system and black out on alcohol every day. Axel, I'd say I have the better end of the stick."
"You know, for someone that wanted to die not too long ago, you sure do talk a lot."
"Who says I still don't want to die?" Roxas asked, "…Just enjoying the moment before I find my conviction again."
"Have I convinced you otherwise?" Axel questioned.
"Maybe for a bit." Roxas replied, "Now that I think about it, killing myself on a road in the middle of nowhere is a crap idea. That's what happens when you deprive yourself of food for so long. You think of all these stupid and idiotic things that seem like good ideas in the beginning but they're really fucking stupid in actuality."
"Like starving yourself, isn't?"
"There you go being judgmental again."
"It's just, you never hear guys doing that shit. It's always girls."
"Well, guess I'm one of the lucky few who do."
"You're fucked up, you know?"
"I know." Roxas replied, cheekily. "Why do you think my mother kicked me out?"
Axel's only answer was taking the next turn he saw so sharp and fast, Roxas nearly went flying off his bike.
-x-
The sun was starting to come up not too long after they had set off from where Axel had found Roxas. They had stopped talking sometime ago and Axel presumed Roxas had gone to sleep. However, the kid's thin arms were still fastened tightly around his abdomen, so maybe he was only resting his eyes. Whatever the case, he welcomed the silence in the early dawn. They were almost out of Massachusetts and would be in Connecticut within a few more exits. If Axel's calculations were right, he would probably be in New York by ten or eleven at the latest.
In the silence, Axel's mind was beginning to wander again.
It was insane, this idea of his. First off, the legal consequences that could arise as a result of what he was doing for Roxas were the first thing on his mind. But, whatever, it wasn't like he hadn't done worse. And besides, it was better than leaving him for dead in the middle of the road like that. He was being a good samaritan … in a fucked up kind of way.
Two, Roxas was quite the … commodity. In past years, Axel had heard it all. He was a weirdo, eccentric, off, insane, outcast, freak … but Roxas appeared to have him somewhat beat in that category. The way the kid spoke so candidly about anything and everything as if he didn't care if he offended anyone—scratch that, he really didn't—was different to him. Even if he had only known him for tops, an hour or so. This short, little scrawny kid was just … different. But, Axel liked different. Different was good. Kept things interesting.
Three, what would happen when he got back to New York? The wake was supposed to be scheduled for this evening. How would his family receive him? They didn't know the truth behind why he had left New York. He was pretty sure his father had made sure of that. But, he was sure they had questioned his absence. What lies would he have to discover and spin to keep things as normal as possible?
Lastly, he was starting to get somewhat hungry and they were running low on gas. The next service station was a few exits away, so he could manage until he got there.
"Where are we?"
Axel was knocked out of his reverie by Roxas's small voice coming from behind him, "Just out of Massachusetts."
Roxas turned to his left, "Sun's up, huh?"
"That would be what the bright source of light is called, Roxas."
"Cute." Roxas yawned, "You're really bony. Not the most comfortable surface to sleep on."
"No one told you to fall asleep."
"I wasn't sleeping. I was resting my eyes."
"Right," Axel answered, feeling a slight smirk come to his face. "I need to get gas soon. Are you hungry?"
"I don't eat, remember?" Roxas patted him on the back.
"Right, right …" Axel nodded his head.
Roxas turned his attention to the sun that was still rising behind them, "I do drink coffee though. A lot of coffee."
"What's that like one of your safe foods or some weird shit?" Axel questioned.
"Huh, that's a surprise." Roxas began, turning around to look at Axel again, "Here I was thinking you were some brainless pretty boy on a motorcycle but you actually know a little something, Axel. I'm slightly—a minute portion of me, that is—impressed."
"I read all sorts of random shit from time to time," Axel shrugged nonchalantly at Roxas's none-too-subtle insult. "You pick up a few things."
"Hm, I bet." Roxas shifted his weight and slid closer to Axel, "What else do you know?"
"You suffer from a distorted body image. There's an intense fear of weight gain … hiding food … basic stuff that everyone usually knows or has heard of at one point or another." Axel cleared his throat, "Anything you want to add?"
"I can tell you that I lie a lot." Roxas hummed happily, "Key to having an eating disorder, you might as well become a good liar."
"Really?" Axel asked, "So everything you told me back there was a lie, huh?"
"Hmm, nope." Roxas shook his head, "That was the truth. Maybe a bit exaggerated, but it was the truth." He pointed past Axel's shoulder, "The service station is coming up."
"Yeah …" Axel replied and moved out of traffic and headed in the direction of the service station.
After weaving through the parking lot, Axel pulled up behind a black coupe at the gas station and turned the bike off. Roxas hopped down off the bike and stretched languidly in the warmth of the early morning sun. Axel pulled his helmet off his head, sat it down on his bike and inhaled deeply. The only thing he hated about riding was how stuffy his helmet became after long periods of time.
With a quick glance over in Roxas's direction, he saw that he was still stretching and sighing in contentment. But, Axel felt himself cringe as he watched Roxas move. Even as swallowed as he was by his worn hoodie, the physical state of Roxas's body was clear as day. There was the ever definitive gap between his legs. The razor sharp edges of his collar bones that peaked out from where he had left the hoodie partially unzipped at the top of his neck. He shuddered to think about the state of the rest of Roxas's body that was hidden underneath his clothing.
Hell, not that Axel was one to talk when it came to the matter of thinness. But, at least he had a little meat on his bones. Enough to guarantee that people weren't completely worried about the state of his health when they saw him. Roxas looked like he was a walking corpse just about ready to keel over at any time.
"Here, Roxas. Come here."
"Huh?"
Axel unzipped his jacket and reached into a pocket sewn into the inside. He pulled out his wallet and handed the kid a ten. He nodded in the direction of the small mini mart, "Go get yourself something. Besides coffee that is. Get a … get like a muffin or something."
Roxas looked down at the ten and then up to Axel with a facial expression that clearly said, 'You fucking idiot, I already told you I don't eat.'
Axel walked behind the boy and gave him a push on his lower back, "Go."
Roxas shrugged, slung his bookbag over his shoulder and headed in the direction of the mini mart without another word to Axel. Axel sighed in relief and turned around to occupy himself with pumping gas into the bike. He expected Roxas to be back by the time he had finished pumping, but the kid was nowhere in sight. He had just pulled his helmet and gloves back on when Roxas finally sprang forth from the mini mart, a maniacal a grin on his face with the shop owner yelling profanities and waving his arms at him.
He all but jumped onto the back of Axel's back and hit the red head quickly on the shoulder, "Go, go go!"
Axel didn't even begin to question what Roxas had done before he squeezed the clutch, shifted gears and sped off from the gas station. They were a little while away from the service station and were nearing the highway when Axel turned around to ask him what had happened.
"What did you do, Roxas?"
"Multiple five finger discounts." Roxas replied, taking off the shades he was still wearing and waved them in front of Axel's line of vision, "You like? I got them so my eyes stop feeling like they're being raped by the wind."
"What the fuck? Roxas, I gave you money for a reason. What else did you steal?"
"Let's see, some energy drinks, some double shot Starbucks drinks …" He reached underneath his hoodie and Axel could hear the crinkling of plastic over the rushing wind, "…And look. A muffin. This is for you, though. I'll hold onto it until you get hungry."
Axel sighed loudly, "So, should we add stealing to your resume?"
"Guess so." Roxas replied, "Oh, I also stole some band aids and disinfectant for your knees. We should stop again so you can fix them."
"Despite how fucked up all of this is, I appreciate the sentiment." Axel said, "So what did you do with the money?"
Roxas lowered his voice a bit, "There was a lady inside… she didn't have a ton of money with her. She looked pretty despondent so I gave it to her."
"…What are you like some fucked up version of Robin Hood? You steal from mini marts, but give money to some random woman barely braving the poverty line?"
"Sounds kind of nice, doesn't it?"
"Kid." Axel sighed as they neared the highway again, "You're fucked."
-x-
"So, Axel. Can you tell me more about this father of yours?" Roxas pressed, leaning forward onto Axel's shoulder. "How'd he die?"
"Dilated cardiomyopathy." Axel replied, "Had an enlarged heart that couldn't pump blood right. They operated on him, budidn't do much. My little sister called me on the night that he passed begging me to come home to the wake. …Maybe I'll stick around for the funeral if I feel like it."
"Hmm, a sister, huh?" Roxas asked, "What's her name?"
"Kairi. She's younger than you. Fifteen, is it? Yeah, she's fifteen. …If I'm right, her birthday was just last month." He shrugged, "The only reason I'm really coming back to New York is for her, really."
"Why?" Roxas asked curiously.
"Mom died in childbirth, we have other family … but we're somewhat removed from them. At least I am to some degree. I haven't seen Kairi in years, but there's no way in hell that I'm going to lose my little sister to those people."
"Ah," Roxas began, "Family issues, huh? So, you're not just a pretty boy with a motorcycle, are you, Axel? You're a pretty bad boy with a motorcycle and a chip on your shoulder."
"Call it what you will, Roxas." Axel replied, "I left New York when I was sixteen and I never looked back after I left. Spent a couple of years wandering the entire northern East Coast. I never stayed anywhere for too long, though."
"And how did you do that?"
"Some people will pay you to stay away."
"Your father, huh?" Roxas asked, "That's rough …"
"Wanna guess why?"
"Hmm …" Roxas began, "Drugs?"
"Nope."
"Crashed any expensive cars lately?"
"Hardly. Come on. I'm from Manhattan, Roxas. When do we ever drive anywhere?" Axel scoffed.
"Okay, okay…" Roxas bit his bottom lip and then shook Axel's shoulder, "Eating disorder?"
"Fat chance. Guess again, kid." Axel laughed incredulously, "I may be skinny, but trust me, unlike you, I eat."
"Hmmm." Roxas snapped his fingers when he finally had his next answer, "You're gay!"
"Ding, ding, ding. Bingo."
"Don't know how that one escaped me first," Roxas muttered, "So, are you gay gay? Or are you one of those guys who get all touchy feely when he's rolling at a rave or some shit? Or better yet, are you one of those guys who aren't 'gay' but they just like to fuck around with other guys?"
"Gay gay, kid." Axel snickered, "Why? I don't seem like it?"
"Mmm, maybe. You've got this whole … straight guy aura thing to you, though. I mean, you don't really have any effeminate qualities from what I've seen. But, at the same time, it's like … if you told someone you were gay, I don't think they'd be surprised. You're just … you, I guess." Roxas shrugged, "So, what happened?"
"What?"
"Why did he pay to keep you away? Must've been bad if he went that far, huh?"
"Saïx." Axel began, trying hard to keep the malice out of his voice, "His name is Saïx. He's the reason I left New York when I did."
"…Hmmm, there's more to the story than that, isn't there, Axel?"
"It's not worth getting into right now, Roxas."
"Hm, fine." Roxas replied, gazing up at the blue sky. His stomach grumbled loudly and he massaged his abdomen with his stray hand. "Shit."
"Hungry, huh?"
"More like indigestion. I shouldn't have had all those energy drinks." Roxas mumbled, "Is there some place to eat? Another service station or something nearby? I have to pee … really … really badly."
"Yeah, yeah. Hold on. I'll kill you if you piss on my bike."
Axel picked up speed and cut dangerously across oncoming traffic to the exit ramp. The only thing in the area was some run down looking diner and a bridge connecting a wide expanse of trees to open land. Axel pulled into the parking lot of the diner and turned off his bike. "Leave your bag and go inside. I'll catch up." Axel said, as he began taking off his helmet, "And don't piss on yourself!"
Roxas flipped him one as rushed toward the front of the diner and let himself inside. Once he secured his bike, Axel picked up Roxas's bookbag and nearly winced at the weight of it. What the hell was he carrying in here? He lugged the bag up onto his shoulder and tucked his helmet underneath his arm and made his way to the diner.
It was cool inside and hardly crowded from the looks of things. Axel took a seat in a booth over by the door and sat down. He sat his helmet down on the table and put Roxas's bag on the other side of the booth. A waitress popped by to distribute menus and walked away a minute later. Roxas came out the bathroom with a sigh of relief and easily found Axel in his booth. Roxas plopped down in the other seat across from him and crossed his arms on the table.
"Better?" Axel asked, not looking up from his menu.
"Yeah." Roxas replied, "I'm never loading up on drinks like that again."
"Hm," Axel flipped the menu over, "Not only are they bad for you, but they have no nutritional value whatsoever. But why am I saying this? As if you care."
"Is that concern I'm hearing in your voice?" Roxas mocked, grinning wickedly before settling into his side of the booth. He unzipped the bottom part of his bag and rummaged around in there for a bit. A second later he was pulling out a container with numerous pills shoved into its little tiny slots.
"What are those?"
"Happy pills that I should take but never do. Hmm, and vitamins too. Let's see, I've got Prozac and Klonopin. Oh, there's Valium, too. It's my mother's. Stole it before I left. Thought it might come in handy for something, but, I might just toss it. The rest of the pills are vitamins. I guess I figure if I'm killing myself by not eating, I should at least take vitamins, right?"
Axel shrugged his shoulders and sighed, "What does it stem from?"
"The eating disorder?" Roxas asked, eyebrows rising in question. "Well …there was more before that."
Before Axel could ask Roxas what he meant, he accepted a glass of water from their waitress and Roxas did the same. He ordered a milkshake and fries while Roxas, of course, ordered nothing. The waitress looked at him a little strangely but didn't say anything.
"More?" Axel asked, taking a sip of his water.
Roxas downed his pills quickly, winced slightly as he swallowed and then nodded at Axel, "Yeah. How squeamish are you, Axel?"
"Not very, why?"
Roxas went silent for a minute as he dropped his hands into his lap. He glanced around them to make sure no one was paying attention and then pulled the sleeve back on his left arm and then his right.
"Roxas …" Axel began, covering his hand with his mouth, "Oh my God."
Angry lines of red, blue and purple decorated nearly every inch of the teenager's skin. His arms were a myriad of scars, cuts, bruises, and burns. There were words carved into the flesh of his arm, now barely fading or covered over with something new. He had stitches on the tops of both of his wrists and bandages covered something on his left forearm.
"Yeah, that's typically the response I get for all of this." He covered his arms with his hoodie again and seemed to have trouble meeting Axel's eyes. It was as if he regretted showing him in the moments that ensued.
"…Roxas. Why?"
"I have a twin sister." Roxas began, "Her name is Naminé. She's an artist. Sweet girl, quiet, shy, would never harm anything or anyone. A couple of years ago, she went to live with my father in New York. My mother never exactly told me why, but I had a feeling it had to do with my stepfather." His blue eyes grew a bit glassy at the thought, "I found out he was molesting her."
Axel's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he listened to Roxas talk.
"My mother thought she could solve the situation by sending Naminé to go live with my father. Now, you see, my father was under the impression that things with Naminé just weren't going right in Massachusetts so … who was he to refuse his daughter to let him live with her? When we were younger, my mother pretty much tore us away from him. But, when the whole thing with Naminé happened, he came back into the picture."
"And what about you, Roxas?"
"Me … well …" Roxas chucked darkly, "Who's to say he wasn't abusing me either, huh? The cutting began as a result of it. But, then, you know … I realized I could do so much more than cutting. I could, I don't know, maybe … do something more that would kill my mother. Do something that would really make her suffer. Just like my stepfather had done to me and Naminé for nearly our entire lives." He fiddled with the glass in front of him, "So I stopped eating … and I'd turn this little game he was playing on him."
"What did you do?"
"I started fucking her husband." He replied with a strange sense of pride.
"What?"
"Yup, I fucked the man that fucked with my sister. Me and Nam look just like our mother. He was always drinking, never knew the difference. Everything looks the same when you get as fucked up as he used to." Roxas laughed bitterly, "I used to do all sorts of fucked up shit to him. He'd never remember a thing in the morning, though. I remember on one occasion he asked my mother if she could do the 'kinky shit again she did last night'. She looked at him like he lost his mind and told him he was probably dreaming."
"Did she ever find out?"
"Oh yeah," Roxas stated happily. He fiddled around with one of the sugar packets, "My stepfather was starting to figure some things out, or at least, I think he was. He never said anything else to my mom about the, 'wild and passionate sex they had last night'. But, there was this one night, you see. I knew my mom would be home early. I was getting tired of my little game. And she? She was getting increasingly worried about how skinny I was getting and I figured out exactly how I wanted to end things."
"What … did you do?"
"You ever see the movie, The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things? It's a fucked up movie, but it's pretty good, regardless. There's this scene towards the end or so where the mother's son puts on her lingerie and lipstick and seduces her boyfriend. It's pretty much how the night she found us went down. I dressed up in her lingerie, put on her lipstick and went to town." He smiled sadly, perhaps out of guilt or shame when he looked up at Axel, "I don't know what was worse. Her finding the two of us with my legs wrapped around her husband's waist. Or … my step father calling out my name when he finally climaxed."
-x-
They didn't say much to each other after the story Roxas had told Axel at the diner.
He had barely known the kid for half a day, but he felt like his short time with Roxas had been an eternity. There was something about the little pint sized kid with his fluctuating moods, going from surly to excitable in less than five minutes, that he liked. But, maybe it was all an act. Something to take the edge off of where he had come from, what he had gone through. A way to dissociate, if not completely, partially.
The image of all those markings on his arms were still burned into Axel's memory no matter how hard he fought to shake them off. Axel had gone through his own period of self-destruction after he left New York. Drinking alcohol like it was water and obtaining all the nose candy daddy's money could buy. Afterwards he would fuck a random dude he met in the club and then pass out in some seedy neighborhood with no recollection of how he got there.
But, what did you do when you woke up? You got up, puked, brushed yourself off and went on to do the whole thing all over again.
By the time he hit twenty, Axel had had enough of it. Whatever hole he was trying to close refused to stay full. He retired to Connecticut for a year, bought himself that useless six bedroom, five and a half bath mansion in Hartford and aired out. On his 21st birthday, he bought his bike and was right back on the road in search of something else. Something beyond the booze, the drugs and the nameless men and all of their vacant beds. He wanted something more than that.
And at 23, he was still looking for whatever it was.
He felt Roxas clutching onto him a bit more tightly than he had previously. What had happened in the diner had apparently taking a lot out of him. That, or he was crashing from lack of sleep and loading up on all those energy drinks earlier that morning.
"Hey," Axel shifted his shoulder gently, "You okay back there?"
"I'm fine." Roxas responded, "Just tired."
"You always seem to be tired." Axel chided, "I know you don't eat, but we need to get something in you besides energy drinks and water, Roxas."
"I would if I could." Roxas muttered in return.
"We will." Axel replied, "When we get to wherever you want me to take you, I'll make sure you eat. I'm not leaving until you do."
Roxas hummed happily. He sounded delirious, "There was a nurse back in residential. Everyone kind of gave me a hard time when I first came, but not her…" He sighed, "Her name was Aerith. She was this soft spoken woman with the kindest green eyes. She used to tell me the same thing. She would always stay with me until I ate everything. She used to tell me that there was no rush. I should try my best and she'd stick with me until I did it."
"Yeah?" Axel asked, "Sounds nice."
"She was. I miss her. She was the only person … that made me see that maybe attempting recovery was okay." Roxas murmured, "You know, I started all of this as a way to get back at my mother for what happened with my sister but it ended up destroying me far more than it did her." He cleared his throat as his voice seemed to break. "Axel, forget this stupid plan to run away. I want to go to New York. …I want to see my father. There's really nothing for me out here. Take me with you?"
"To be honest, Rox, that's what I intended to do." Axel stated, "You're too sick to make it out there on your own as you are now."
"Rox? What happened to kid?" Roxas asked, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "And, yeah, I know. Why do you think I wanted to kill myself? There was nothing for me … at least, I thought so. Talking about what happened has kind of made me think otherwise, though."
"I'm glad to hear that." Axel replied, "And what's wrong with Rox? Easier than saying Roxas all the time."
"What about if I start calling you Ax?" Roxas snickered, "We could be Rox and Ax. …That sounds like a bad rock group. Never mind." Roxas gazed up at an exit that passed overhead and sighed in relief, "We're almost there, huh?"
"Yeah, guess so."
"Didn't really feel like all that long."
"Typically it's a four hour ride, so no, it isn't." Axel answered, "What time is it?"
"Almost twelve." Roxas said, "Hey, Axel?"
"Yeah?"
"If it's not any trouble … can you finish that story from before? About that Saïx guy?"
Axel threw a quick glance over his shoulder at Roxas and then lowered his voice, "What do you want to know?"
"Why do you hate him so much?"
Axel sighed and shook his head, "I don't … hate him per se, but he's the whole reason that I got into the mess I'm in now."
"How so?"
"He was the first guy I can say I ever felt anything for. It was back during that whole weird experimentation phase you get into at your age. I'd had a few girlfriends but none of them ever really interested me. They were a chore if nothing else. When I got involved with Saix, though, I felt different. Like … what I felt with him was right. It fit …"
"Were you … out?"
"Hell, no! Are you crazy? Not at all. It was one of those behind closed doors type relationships. We were always sneaking around everyone else to do something. But, looking back at it now, I see how naïve I was. I thought the situation was something completely different than what Saix intended it to be."
"One of those boys at band camp looking for his one a shot at experimentation, huh?"
"You … got it." Axel laughed darkly at Roxas, "He outed me to my father. It wasn't like I could deny it either. Saix had written proof. Notes I had written, letters, things of that sort…"
"How old were you?"
"Sixteen." Axel replied. "No older than you are now. I packed my stuff up within a week or so, boarded a bus at Port Authority and headed north. I had no sense of direction. I just wanted to get away from New York and I haven't looked back since. This is my first time returning in seven years."
"I thought you said you left when you were sixteen?"
"I was turning seventeen that year." Axel responded, "My birthday's in the middle of the summer."
"Ah." Roxas replied. "Axel?"
"Yeah?"
"When is your father's wake?"
"At five." Axel replied.
"Do you mind if I come with you?"
"…That's an odd request." Axel was a bit thrown off, "Can I ask, why?"
"I don't know." Roxas shrugged, "I just want to."
"Don't you have to get to your father? Isn't he expecting you?"
"Yeah, but that can wait." Roxas began, "You ...you seem like you could use a bit of support, that's all. You're walking back into a situation that seems pretty stressful to me. I just thought you might need someone there or something to take the edge off."
Axel laughed slightly at his response, "Kid, you just met me. How can you tell me what it seems like I need?"
Axel felt a subtle shift in the way Roxas was pressed against him, "Stop the bike." He snapped. His voice was completely devoid of any emotion. "I said. Stop this bike."
"Wha—HEY, HEY, WOAH!"
Axel felt the weight of Roxas on his back all but disappear, Roxas's hands unlatch from his abdomen and quickly maneuvered them—while nearly getting hit by a truck—to the side of the road. Roxas barely waited for Axel to stop the bike before he hopped off the back, book bag slung over his shoulder and began walking along the highway's shoulder. Axel flipped up his visor, turned the bike off and began trailing after Roxas.
"Roxas! Roxas! Roxas! Wait a minute, slow the fuck down!" He caught up in front of the blond who had no intention of stopping and began walking backwards as he followed him, "What the fuck is your problem? Are you trying to get us killed!"
"Maybe I'll be successful next time. Now please, move out the way." Roxas replied, glancing at Axel without breaking his stride.
"Rox, cut it with the theatrics and stop this."
"That's Roxas, to you."
"What the fuck is your problem, kid?"
Roxas stopped walking so that he could look Axel squarely in the eye and leaned in, "You know, you're a fucking idiot, Axel. You keep saying that I'm so fucked up and that I need help and you're so concerned about my well being, despite the fact that you've barely known me for more than a day. But, the minute I want to show some sort of … I don't even know what to call it … you scoff, laugh at me and think it's some big joke."
"Rox—"
"No! I'm not fucking finished!" Roxas pointed at his chest, "What gives you that right, huh? You probably think just because you're older than me that I'm some frail fucking object that needs to be coddled and shit. That I'm so breakable because of all the fucked up shit I've done and been through, huh? The fucked up shit I've done to my body is just the beginning of it. You don't know anything about me."
"Rox, it's not like—"
"Don't tell me what it is and what it isn't!" Roxas jabbed at his chest again, "Fuck you, Axel. I knew I should have just stayed in the middle of that road in Winthrop. Hell of a lot better than being out here on some random ass highway shoulder, halfway to New York with some selfish prick who I barely met six hours ago!"
Roxas huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away from Axel. Axel sighed, rubbing at his head and looked down at Roxas. "Roxas ... Rox? Come on, I'm sorry. Is that ... good?" Axel asked patiently.
"No." Roxas muttered.
"Yes?" Axel asked hopefully, crossing his arms over his chest.
Roxas looked up at him and frowned, "Maybe." He began, "But I meant what I said. Don't patronize me just because of all the shit I've told you." He sighed, "You know, I don't even know why I'm doing this right now. Like I said before, starving yourself does stupid shit to your brain. Makes you thing up all sorts of stupid shit … " He looked up at Axel, "This is pretty stupid what we're doing, isn't it?"
"Kind of." Axel replied, "But … I don't think I could have lived with myself if I left you there in the middle of the road like that. And it doesn't really matter because we're both headed for the same place, anyway. "
"Don't try to rationalize this, Axel. It's stupid." Roxas crossed his arms over his chest, "Really, for all I know, you could have been some crazy psycho murder looking to lure young, unsuspecting boys back into your parent's basement so you can chop up their bones and fry their insides."
"…Seriously, Roxas?"
"No, I'm just exaggerating." Roxas shrugged his shoulders, "But, you never know."
"So … are you okay, now?"
"Only if you promise to stop being so a jackass." Roxas replied.
"I'm not …" Axel saw Roxas starting to frown again and held up his hand in defeat. "Okay, okay, I'm a jackass."
Roxas stuck out his pinky and wiggled it at Axel, "Come on."
"You're not serious …"
"Axel."
"All right, all right. God." Axel walked toward Roxas and linked his pinky with Roxas and shook on it. "Remind me that this is the last time I pick up some random, rail thin kid who wants to commit suicide, off the side of the road."
-x-
The darkness blurred at the edges, dissipating as the dawn swallowed everything whole and shattered all with a blinding light. Racing toward me like a man on fire, I tried to close my eyes and welcomed the abyss to pull apart my spine and swallow me whole. But, it never came. I was left, staring at the empty sky as it failed to break apart. It stayed whole for me that night. Red swarmed, consumed my eyes. It made me feel light, escape, salvation. It made me question my right to die.
6/6
9:25AM
what music used to be. what luck used to be. what art used to be. what you used to be.