~ Kingdom Hearts ~
Next Life – Chapter One
"Good Evening, Doctor Green. Here's your patient for this evening," the lovely brunette receptionist chirped as she handed the clipboard over. She smiled the true smile of someone actually content with their life, handling her administrative duties with the skill and ease that earned her more money than she would ever care to admit. On this day her shirt was orange and sleeveless, matching her high orange socks and cream coloured pants, all bringing out the blue eyes in her young face. She was truly a valuable asset of Pleasantview Township Hospital, curing any complaints with her comforting smiles and chiming laughter, solving disputes before they even started, and quite possibly leaving out the small depositories of mints in the staff coffee lounge, though no-one had been able to catch her doing it thus far. None of her fellow employees doubted that she would go on to live an incredibly happy life completely free from any sort of supernatural trouble. They would be largely correct in their assumptions, excusing a brief encounter near the coffee machine which she would neither remember nor ever need to.
The receiver of the clipboard wouldn't be so lucky. First name Zexion, Doctor Green was quite possibly one of the most gifted minds the hospital had ever seen. If this was true, then he was also the most underappreciated employee in the entire history of Pleasantview. In truth, he wasn't quite a doctor, but even as an intern he liked to assume the authority of a full resident. No-one called him down for it. No-one even noticed. He was partially convinced he could get away with murder with all the attention he received in the workplace, and was continually surprised that they continued to pay him whilst barely acknowledging his existence. In truth, there were a select few of his work associates who paid him more attention than Zexion was even slightly aware of, and he would very likely regret ever finding out why.
The receptionist was not one of them. With a friendly smile and a brief nod she was back to her typing without another word. Doctor Zexion Green frowned sullenly down at the clipboard for a long moment before swishing in his just-a-bit-too-long doctorly coat down the pristine hospital corridor, habitually walking around the clusters of fellow employees currently laughing amongst themselves. They wouldn't see him even if he stood on their foot - he had tried it once. Well, almost. He had ended up just tapping them on the shoulder and watching them fumble between themselves over what his name was, despite the fact that he had worked with some of them for three years straight, and gone to the same college as the rest. He had taken to wearing a name tag ever since, and as far as he could tell only the receptionist had noticed it so far. It was small progress, but progress all the same. Perhaps soon they'd start noticing when he didn't show up for work without any explanation at all. He had tried that one too. He still wasn't sure if he was happy they paid him for that day or not.
Zexion finished flicking through his new patient's details and couldn't help but wishing he had decided to take this day off instead. His patient was one Roxas Cain, and Zexion hadn't needed the well typed notations to tell him that he was one of the most well known names in all of Pleasantview. The youngest son of the now retired Mayor Cain, Roxas had lived a life well in the public view and loved every moment of it. He was just reaching nineteen now, and any street that was lucky enough to grace his presence would soon be swarming with women of every age flocking around screechily to even get a glimpse of him. The amount of money he was sure to have thrown around made Zexion cringe. He was very much not looking forward to spending any amount of time with this kid at all - he didn't even have to do anything! They just needed someone to mind him overnight so he wouldn't accidentally unplug and kill himself. Apparently Roxas had seen it necessary to rush into a burning building in some vague attempt to gaining more public attention, as if he needed any more. There hadn't actually been anyone in the building to save when he had rushed into it, but the media had managed to spin the tragic hero angle on it like they were paid to just fine. In Zexion's eyes it was almost justice that he had suffered serious injury, but then also poetic irony that poor-intern-who-had-put-himself-into-alarming-debt –for-the-rest-of-his-life-to-even-be-here Zexion himself would be aiding him back to perfect health. Sometimes Zexion really wondered just what the world was trying to do to him. It was probably some kind of tasteless joke that everyone but him would find funny. Whatever it was, it was undoubtedly incredibly successful so far.
Zexion slowed his brisk walk to a milder pace and took a deep breath. Surely it was just chance. No-one here was deliberately trying to make him look stupid. One day he would prove himself, and until then he would wade through the idiots who stapled their hands together until they finally took him off his training wheels. Yes, things would get better. Statistically speaking they couldn't possibly get any worse.
He paused as he caught a glimpse of himself in the long hallway mirror. His high collared doctor's coat shone spotless white in the bright lights. His angled purple hair hung down in front of his face, looking sharp and tidy as usual. Black framed square glasses sat ever so precisely on the centre nose, while his lips curved down in his ever present frown, completely reflecting the monotony of his entire working life. It was enough to make him want to throw things in frustration. He had had enough waiting, he wanted his life to start, and he wanted it to start now. No amount of gentle stepping internship was going to do that, yet it was all he had. His work encompassed all that he was, and Zexion hated himself for it. He had written blogs on this very subject, blogs which he was absolutely certain nobody read. If only there was some escape. Some magical hallway he could dart down where he actually did things outside of work, and had friends to do them with, and didn't have to watch all his career opportunities get hand given to less adequate people.
Resisting the urge to check the nearest broom cupboard for any such thing, Zexion resumed his gentle paces towards his patient's room. His entire life so far may have been an elaborate joke at his expense, but things would change. Positive thinking, that was the trick. How many times had he tried this? No, no matter. Smiling bunnies. Yes, that sort of thing. The thought reminded Zexion of a friend of his who was always sunshine and rainbows. Well, at least he seemed so. He hadn't met him properly in years, living on opposite sides of town and all, but they had quite a good long distance friendship working if he did say so himself. Zexion straightened his collar slightly as he tried to recall the contents of his most recent email. Had he replied to that last one yet? Surely he had. It's not like he had any other sort of life outside of work. Just books, and the internet. With a snarl he stopped himself from looking in the nearest cupboard again. Sunshine, Daisies. Yes, Yellow things. Lots of Yellow.
Zexion's attempts at mentally willing himself into a better mood ceased as he stood quietly in the elevator, brought out of his reverie at the sight of the person passing through the doors. M. Xemnas was chief resident, and without a doubt he was everything an intern should aspire to be. On top of being tall and dashing, he was amazingly charismatic and impressively intelligent; always experimenting here and there to discover new ways the body would heal and what not. He gave occasional seminars on his more theoretical ideas concerning things medicine couldn't quite explain, of which Zexion never missed a single one. He was absolutely fascinating, and Zexion couldn't think of anyone he had ever admired more.
That, of course, did not change the fact that Zexion spent the entire elevator ride standing perfectly still in the corner while Xemnas stood completely oblivious to his existence a mere step away, watching the numbers tick up with the faint resemblance of patience. From such a close distance Xemnas was breathtaking. It would be generous to call Zexion average height, leaving Xemnas a full head and shoulders taller. His white hair hung in a way you would never see anywhere else, all slicked back at the front and loosely hanging around his shoulders. His tanned skin seemed to glow in the dim light. Zexion occupied himself by very actively breathing through his nose, trying to make as little noise as possible. But then, perhaps if he breathed louder Xemnas would hear it and speak to him. Oh, no, he didn't think he could handle that. He would just end up saying something completely unintelligent and ruin Xemnas' impression of him forever. Much safer to just pretend he hadn't noticed him. Ah, but what if he turned around and thought Zexion was ignoring him? Then he'd come across as a thousand times worse than just lame. Perhaps he should say something? Imagine being on a first name basis with Xemnas.
Steeling himself for what would probably be the most impulsive thing he did all week, he slowly and unsurely lifted a hand to tap Xemnas' shoulder. He took a deep breath, yet just as he started to clear his throat the floor dinged and the doors slid open, leaving Zexion faking the most unrealistic cough he'd ever heard to try to cover up his failed attempt at conversation. Still oblivious, Xemnas strode stately out of the elevator and right of sight. Rubbing the back of his head in pure embarrassment Zexion softly kicked the side of the elevator wall. See? If he had just pretended to not exist he wouldn't have been left feeling like such a shy twat. With an exasperated tsk to no-one in particular Zexion jabbed the button for his floor again. The doors waited patiently for a few doctors in equally white coats to huddle inside before closing themselves and declaring with a ding that they were ascending. The numbers changed accordingly. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven –
"Evening, Zexion."
Completely flustered, Zexion's head whipped around.
"Uh .. Uh, Evening." Zexion muttered, in what he hoped would sound friendly. Being caught completely off guard, he knew he instead sounded like a giddy prat, yet he had no time for thought. The thick jawed doctor merely nodded in response and left as the elevator reached his floor. Zexion's mind was all a-flutter with new excitement. Which doctor had that been? He had been a few years older than Zexion, that was certain, not to mention tall and impressively wide shouldered. Zexion thought he vaguely recognized the short brown hair. Perhaps he had seen him in passing once or twice. He mentally reminded himself to keep an eye out for such a haircut so he could say hi first next time, and maybe a little more besides. Someone who was willing to talk to him, now this was really something. His blog would be utterly dripping with excitement tonight, oh yes, it would.
Zexion reached his patient's door and mentally steeled himself. He dusted his non-clipboard holding hand on his coat, put on the fakest smile he could muster and swept into the room as he imagined an actually happy doctor might do. The private spacious room contained a single patient's bed - the paper curtains were drawn back to display the room's esteemed occupant in full view. With a haphazard twirl of spiky hair that completely defied the monotony of the paper thin patient gown, Roxas Cain was rather short for his age, and apparently didn't know the meaning of the word 'moderation' when it came to applying hair gel. The murderously swirl of blonde hair wouldn't have been half as bad were it on anyone else, he had to admit. The Cain's were amazingly adept at making their wealth known to everyone in sight, and apparently a hospital room didn't hold them back one bit. Masses of Get Well Soon flowers and balloons cluttered the room, leaving only just enough room for Zexion to walk around and inspect the machine Roxas was hooked up to. Clearly this was supposed to be impressive, yet Zexion knew for a fact no public visitors had been allowed in during visiting hours. It had been strictly family only due to the fragility of Roxas' condition. Physically, he seemed absolutely fine, much to Zexion's disappointment – apparently the spoiled brat would keep his good looks after all – yet the very presence of the machine itself made it amazingly clear that Roxas was brutally injured, if only on the inside.
At that moment said spoilt brat was watching the dark horizon through the window, completely oblivious to Zexion's presence whatsoever, his face one of perfectly trained boredom. Zexion had to fight very hard to keep the smile plastered on his face as he walked calmly into his line of sight, pushing his glasses up instinctively and batting a stray helium balloon out of the way. Roxas simply looked around him, as one would look around an inconveniently placed dog that had wandered into one's view of the television screen. Zexion dropped the smile.
"Roxas Cain," he began calmly, "You're very lucky to be alive right now." He looked at him expectantly. Roxas hadn't changed his expression whatsoever, still glancing with boredom out the window. Zexion continued. "Your condition is far from simple. Needless to say, this machine is all that's keeping you alive. Without it, all your internal organs will cease functioning completely-"
"Yeah yeah, whatever. How much do I pay you to fix it?"
Zexion wrinkled his nose in disgust. He had spent his entire life racking up debt just to afford tuition fees, and this kid threw around money without batting an eye lid. He would probably never need an income in his entire life, simply living off his parent's fortune and being mortally offended when he didn't get just what he wanted. It was sickening.
"It's not quite that simple. Your condition is barely stable, and none of our experts are able to determine the cause of-"
"Look, I don't care," the almighty Roxas interrupted, "Just bring me something to eat, I'm starving. None of that gross hospital food mind, I want what you eat." How did so much arrogance exist in one person? It was quite phenomenal. Perhaps his organs were failing out of pure dislike of their owner's personality? Not physically possible by any means, but it was an entertaining thought.
"I'm sorry, sir, but only those of the highest mental calibre qualify for the benefits of a medical career." Strictly, that was untrue. There was a note at the bottom of the chart outlining that the kid was to be given anything his heart so desired. He must've been paying well indeed. The kid hadn't noticed his thinly veiled insult however, so Zexion was left feeling a little smug. Intelligence one, Riches Zero. "Perhaps if you had gone to school instead of bribing your teachers to pass, you wouldn't be here right now."
Unfortunately, the added comment hadn't passed as unnoticed. The kid's head whipped around, blonde hair flying, with eyes ablaze with the fury of one being affronted with the sight of a commoner. Oh how Zexion hated rich people.
"What did you just say?"
"Oh, nothing sir. Just a casual observance."
"Is that what the clipboard says? Let me see! Give it here!" Roxas extended his hand, head held high in a dignified manner not at all suiting the mortally injured. Zexion knew he had long since crossed the line of doctorly etiquette, but something was eating away at him. For once in his whole blasted career he was on the attack, and it felt good. He couldn't pull back now. It was either abandon all self dignity and apologise, or confront richy rich once and for all, for the good of indebted students everywhere. He knew what his choice was.
"Hmm!" Zexion hummed thoughtfully, eyes scanning over the clipboard for dramatic effect, "You know, I think I may just have to pass on that."
"Just who do you think you are! Do you know who I am?"
"Only too well, Mister Cain, and you would do well to remember just who is the doctor here-"
"What, You? You're not even a full Doctor!"
Zexion wavered. They told him that? Roxas took the opportunity to sneer.
"See? Didn't need your precious doctor school to know that."
Grinding his teeth, Zexion slowly unclenched his fists with effort. He would not give the kid the satisfaction of seeing him try to calm himself down. He would not! This little punk would get what was coming to him.
Nostrils flaring, Zexion grinned in what could only be called malice at his stiff backed, high chinned patient.
"Now, you listen here," he spoke calmly, putting the exact amount of menacing emphasis on each word, "I do not care who you are, or how you were brought up. Right here, in this hospital, I amin charge, and I will remain in charge as long as you are here. In my hand is the power of your life or your death. Do I make myself clear?"
Completely unphased, Roxas sniffed, reclining back with his arms behind his head. 'What, is that supposed to be a threat? From a doctor? Puh-lease." He sniffed again. "I don't know what they pay you for, but I'm sure your superior would just love to make you a janitor once I have a chat with him. I shouldn't even be here! I was totally fine-"
Zexion's ears pricked at the sound of a sharp snapping sound. He looked down to see that his beloved favourite pencil had indeed snapped between his fingers. If he was mad before, he was furious now. His eyes shone with unbridled anger as he looked up and met Roxas' eyes defiantly, catching the last of his rant.
"-Have the right to die when and where I like!" Something inside Zexion snapped.
"Fine!"
In a blaze of completely blind fury he yanked the life support's power cord out of the wall socket.
A moment of shocked silence immediately settled over the room as both men stared blankly at the cord in Zexion's hand and then at each other. Coincidentally, that moment was all that it took for Roxas' now unsupported organs to realise the gravity of the situation and adhere to the new work schedule they had been handed. Putting it simply, Roxas died very quickly. His arms sunk limply as his head thumped back against the pillow - eyes completely devoid of the arrogance that had been shining moments before.
Zexion swore. Loudly. As if it would make all the difference in the world he jammed the cord back into the socket, looking to Roxas expectantly as if he would suddenly sit back up and resume shouting. As his hopes quickly faded he leapt across to the door and slammed it shut. He leant against it heavily and tried very hard to calm his breathing. Unfortunately this only made him realize he was in an extreme case of panic, making his breathing do the exact opposite of what he had wanted.
He had just killed Roxas Cain. THE Roxas Cain. Killed him! Right there! Unmoving corpse right there on the bed. The richest and most popular young man in all of Pleasantview, Dead. Leading cause; Zexion.
He did not remember sliding to the floor, yet there he was, cuddling his knees to his chest and whimpering softly. His life was officially over. His aspirations of gaining any sort of improvement in his life completely null and void - and he would most likely spend the rest of his life in prison to boot. He would be the first to admit that he didn't have much of a life, but he adored it compared to what had just happened. He. Had. Just. Killed. Roxas. Cain.
Just then, the very last thing Zexion wanted to happen happened. His back jarred as someone tried to open the door.
The sound of mumbling reached his ears as the door was then knocked on. "Green? Is everything okay in there?" Zexion's breath caught. SHIT.
His mind roared in a surge of action as he quickly stood up, spun around and opened the door, putting on his best fake doctor smile in the process. His eyes met those of Xemnas. The Chief resident himself. Great! As if this could get any better!
"Everything is fine sir," Zexion hurriedly assured, completely ignoring the small voice that was reminding him how flustered he had been in his presence mere minutes earlier, "I was just uh .. sitting. On the ground. For no reason. Mr Roxas is quite fine." He gestured wildly over his shoulder as his heart pounded furiously in his chest. He hoped to any and every god out there that Roxas' rather un-living state would be taken as just an un-awake state.
The gods in question must have been feeling rather generous, as Xemnas simply glanced over Zexion's shoulder and nodded vaguely. "Use a chair next time" he stated matter of factly as he turned and glided royally down the corridor.
Zexion kept his giant smile very visible on his face until he had succeeded in very veeeery carefully shutting the door, before letting his face drop and spinning around to look at Roxas. It seemed ironic that the mistake of his most esteemed idol had just saved his life. Momentarily, at least. While the technology at this hospital was much less than sub-par, the doctors were unfortunately brilliant. It would take them no time at all to decipher Roxas' cause of death. Then all hell would break lose. Zexion intended to be far far away when that happened.
His mind worked quickly as he tried to approach the situation in a logical manner. He was due to leave first thing in the morning, thus he had until that time before the next person came in to continue monitoring Roxas' condition. When they discovered him not breathing, they would very likely hit the emergency button and all efforts would go into trying to resuscitate him, clearly presuming this had only just happened. In the ensuing madness someone would check the chart, now resting haphazardly on the floor.
What were his options? He could pretend Roxas was perfectly healthy upon his leaving - though this would make him look instantly murderous once they discovered his true time of death. Perhaps not. He could possibly report that Roxas had ... sort of... what could he write? That he had died of natural causes in his sleep? Maybe. They would expect some sort of expert commotion of the sorts he had imagined if that had been the case, and not just a forgotten-to-hand-in-report. Both options left him seeming irrevocably guilty.
In a vain attempt to curtail suspicion, Zexion scooped up the report and quickly scribbled "Gone to get donuts - be back in ten!" and left it very carefully on the bedside table, placing the pen ever so carefully in what he assumed was a natural position.
He scanned the room and rushed back to Roxas to close his eyelids. Stupid jerk. Zexion resisted the temptation to hit the dead guy for landing him in such a distressing mess. He settled on just sticking his tongue out. Good riddance.
He swept out of the room, being very careful to shut the door non-suspiciously behind him. He walked at a very carefully measured pace down the sterilised smelling corridor to the elevator. The whole situation felt unreal, as if the safety walls of his life had up and vanished, leaving him completely exposed and utterly flustered. To think that being ignored had seemed like the most important thing in the world just a little while ago, and now he sought it desperately. If no-one stopped him he could walk straight out the front door. But what next? No, he would sort that out when he got there. For now he just needed to get out, he would save the fleeing for his life till after.
Luck must have been on his side for once. He encountered not a single soul down the elevator ride, and after casually peeking around the corner he found the receptionist had gone as well. The double sliding door exit was fully in sight now, the night sky seeming to call out to him. His heart was pounding wildly as Zexion walked briskly across the lobby. Just a little more-
"Zexion."
Panic bursting through his chest, Zexion turned around slowly. He smiled nervously, expecting the world to collapse around him as the tall, wide shouldered doctor from inside the elevator earlier approached him slowly. He scanned his face vainly hoping for any sign of his impending doom, yet apparently this doctor had taken stoic lessons. The thick jawed doctor, brown hair pointing up menacingly, faced him squarely and extended his hand.
"I've read your thesis on the other side of hallucinations. It was utterly fascinating."
It took Zexion a slow moment to realise the thick doctor was in fact smiling at him and intended to shake his hand. At the same moment he realised the deep falsetto voice had not been incriminating him of murder, but had been showering him with praise. Relief engulfed him completely. Smiling eagerly Zexion shook the doctor's hand, completely unphased by just how strong his grip was.
"And you are?"
"Lexaeus Stonewall. It's truly a pleasure to finally meet you."
"The pleasure is all mine." It truly was. Not only was he not being done for murder, someone actually appreciated his work. And shook his hand. And wanted to meet him. It was thrilling! "Where did you find my thesis?"
"Xemnas gave me a copy when I asked about it," he explained deeply, "He thinks quite highly of you."
Zexion mentally missed a step.
"Really?"
Lexaeus nodded confirmation. Zexion felt giddy inside. Xemnas liked his work? The small bubble of pride popped instantly when he remembered Xemnas would probably lose all respect for him once he discovered he had just killed their highest paying patient of all time. He couldn't help but wonder how brilliant this day would have turned out if he hadn't dabbled in accidental manslaughter. Lexaeus continued.
"Would you care for a drink?"
Zexion felt torn. Just how long had he spent every day of the week desperately wishing someone would ask him that? Here was his chance, and as much as he wanted to leap into it, he couldn't. He had lingered far too long already. Any moment now someone could be spontaneously checking on Roxas for a strictly forbidden signature. Clearly, fate was having an absolute ball with him tonight.
"I wish I could," Zexion said softly, giving his best apologetic smile, "But I really have to go."
The swishing of the double sliding doors sliding open sounded behind Zexion. Footsteps echoed off the cold hospital floor as a pair of tall men dashed past in a hurry. One was middle aged, his long blonde hair hanging far past his waist. The second was even older, with grey streaks in his black ponytail, hair just as long as the other's. They wore casual clothes, the first in some tight fitting sweater and the second in a Hawaiian shirt, causing the doctorly side of Zexion to awaken and want to inform them that visiting hours were well over. Instead, he ended up watching Lexaeus. The other man's eyes followed them for a moment, wide smile slowly draining away, before flicking back to Zexion with a distraught frown.
"It would seem I have to do the same. Some other time perhaps?"
The prospect made Zexion happy to no end. He nodded his agreement, hoping he didn't seem too eager.
"I'd like that."
The doors swished open again, this time allowing a man the same height and width as Lexaeus, except with a multitude of black braids hanging dangerously low down his back. Seeing him enter, Lexaeus nodded a friendly farewell to Zexion, smiling momentarily before striding over to the dark haired man, matching his long pace easily. Zexion couldn't help but smile to himself as he watched them round the corner. Then he remembered what his hurry had been for. He quickly turned to flee into the night.
He would never admit it, but he felt strangely alive as he endured the night's cold wind. Walking briskly to his dilapidated car, he pulled his phone from his pocket, dialling the vacant reception's number. He would leave a voice message explaining that his car had broken down and he wouldn't make it back to finish his shift, which shouldn't cause any problems as Roxas seemed very stable when he left. It might just work. Xemnas had thought Roxas was still alive and well when he had found Zexion earlier, so maybe he would genuinely believe it. It was a big gamble. An incredible gamble in fact, and it would be clearly unwise to rely on that lie alone to save his life. Hiding might draw suspicion, but he just did not feel safe going back home as he usually did; they'd know just where he was that way. But where to go?
Zexion thought through his options as he attempted to slam the rusty car door shut. To think that just an hour ago he had been his usual unappreciated self. Now he was a fugitive. At the very least, the adrenaline was giving him the most exciting night he'd likely ever have. He desperately hoped the excitement wasn't some type of insanity as he finally started his car, reversing out onto the road. Positive thinking, yes, that's what it was.
He grinned as an idea finally clicked into place. Sunshine and Rainbows. Mmhmm, that would do quite nicely. It was too late to call in casually, but desperate times surely excused such a thing. Zexion whistled as he adjusted the rear view mirror ever so slightly. He hoped Demyx was still awake.
In his hurry, Vexen stumbled as he climbed the lengthy staircase. The only thing that kept him balanced was his constant grip on the hand rail. He had long since given in to breathing as loud as he could manage. Next time he was taking the elevator, no matter what Xigbar said. Scientists were not cut out for this!
The hurry itself felt superficial, but then, he supposed it largely was. The death had already occurred, and no matter how soon they got there they could not undo it. Walking would be even worse though, it would make it seem like he truly wasn't committed to his goal, especially in the presence of one of the others. Xigbar didn't have to run so fast though! It was a hospital! Did he know how many floors hospitals had? Had the man not been a constant flight ahead of him Vexen would have dragged him to a stop and given him a piece of his mind. With a scowl, he settled for mentally muttering to himself, as physically doing so would have interrupted his ragged but still essential breathing. If only Xemnas had taught him that nifty trick of his. Why, it was fascinating enough for study on its own merits, let alone the immense usefulness it proposed.
Reaching a floor landing, Vexen doubled over, gulping down as much air as he could. Each breath felt like fire to his lungs, and he wasn't certain whether his legs would take him much further. Curse Xigbar and his blasted stairs! Lifting his head vaguely his breathing stopped. Floor Thirteen. They had made it. About time!
After another indulgent minute of catch up breathing, Vexen made his way into the meeting room, head held high and gaunt face drawn into a thin, expressionless frown, completely oblivious to his failed attempt at taking the stairs. It was a strangely bare room really, completely windowless and undecorated save for the white table in the centre, surrounded by thirteen undecorated plain sitting chairs. Too many chairs for a certainty, they never even filled half that number, yet he always had the impression that they should be taller somehow. Three chairs were already occupied, making Vexen the fourth to arrive. Xigbar was there, of course, the manic fool that he was, lounging around with one leg draped over the arm of his chair. Xaldin and Lexaeus were there too; both wide shouldered and thick bodied, the former with his unsanitary tassel of black braids, the latter with his short and slightly curled brown hair. Vexen bet they didn't have to take the stairs!
With an indignant sniff, Vexen took a seat not at all near any of them. Almost immediately the door reopened, stiffly proclaiming the entry of Xemnas himself. Everyone sat a little straighter as he sat down, waterfall of white hair showering over his shoulders. No-one needed to be reminded why they were there, or be told what had happened. They all knew the threat it posed and just what was on the line here. As such, they all looked wordlessly to Xemnas, awaiting his instruction, drinking in the silence. Xemnas pursed his lips in thought before speaking slowly, deliberately picking out each word.
"The situation can be … salvaged. He was killed by one of our own."
The tension in the room quickly dissipated. Everyone sat further back in their chairs, clearly relieved. Vexen let go of a breath he hadn't known he had been holding, quickly revising just what that meant. Xemnas continued.
"It can be salvaged, but we must keep a tighter grip on the situation. This cannot be allowed to happen again." He turned his head sharply, looking straight at Lexaeus, who flinched ever so slightly. "Lexaeus, keep a close eye on your new 'friend'. He cannot be allowed to get too far away."
Lexaeus' mouth tightened into what was unmistakably a disgruntled frown, yet he nodded confirmation – he would do it. Xemnas had that effect on people; they all knew the price of disobedience.
"Xigbar, Xaldin, continue your search. The others must be found as soon as possible." They nodded together, neither surprised at this order. They had been at it for quite a while, yet with limited success so far. It would gradually get easier from here on in though, Vexen admitted, now that things were in motion, whether they were the ones who initiated it or not.
Vexen's train of thought froze as Xemnas next looked to him.
"Vexen, I need you to recalculate the time between this death and the previous. We need to know when to make our next move."
Vexen digested this quickly. Yes, it could be done. But …
He cleared his throat. Quietly, yet every head in the room swivelled around to stare at him. Xemnas' expression never changed.
"It can be done, Superior, yet the funds it would require … well, it would be immense to say the least-"
Suddenly, Vexen was on his feet, his chair far behind him against the wall. He did not remember standing up, yet here he was, with Xemnas curiously standing before him.
Vexen gasped as a numb sensation suddenly ripped into his chest, driving a sudden chill across his torso. He craned his head down with difficulty. Some type of long blade was protruding out of his chest, connected in some way he couldn't quite see to Xemnas' hand. It was no mere blade; it seemed to be a phosphorous substance, glowing a whitish grey that was so bright it hurt to look at. It was glowing, yet somehow light seemed to dim around it, as if everything it came into contact with slowed to a standstill. It was a highly unpleasant thing to have reaching into one's innards.
With a sudden shock, Vexen's mind registered what had just happened. He had just been stabbed. He assumed he must be experiencing an adrenaline rush of some sort - there was no pain, only increasingly physical numbness. Was Xemnas killing him? No, Surely not. Xemnas needed him. Didn't he?
His first attempt at words ended up a coughing splutter, but he managed to wheeze out the words on his second attempt.
"The ... The order…" His chest felt too tight to say anything else. Breathing itself was a struggle. Xemnas grinned, a cold smile that did not reach his eyes.
"Worry not, this is merely a demonstration. Note it well, Vexen."
Vexen's sight was clouding over, as if the world was fading into fog. This was most peculiar. He could recall nothing that produced such a vivid reaction to a flesh wound. He tried to move, yet he found his entire body rigid, twitching painfully wherever he attempted movement. His jaw hung open. The world was fogging over.
With a jolt, the numbness left him. Vexen doubled over in a rush of sudden muscle spasms, gasping for air and clutching at his throat wildly. He ran his hands over his coat desperately, trying to find the wound. It was not there. It was as if it had never happened at all. Only Vexen's painful gasps for air proved otherwise.
"You will not question my orders. You will receive all you require to complete your mission as long as you do as you are told. Follow my orders to the letter, or your next experience will be much more severe. Is this understood?"
Vexen nodded quicker than he would have liked, yet he nodded all the same. That was not an experience he wished to repeat. Let the fool think he was his lap dog. A man in comfort made more mistakes around those he thought he could trust. Then right when he least expected it, Vexen would strike, over powering him. Somehow. He would have to research the process further, but there was certain to be a way around the Order. There must!
"Now that the process has been started," Xemnas was addressing them all now, "Certain abilities will start returning to you. Some have found this already. Now, go. You are dismissed." Then he was gone.
Vexen remained huddled on the floor long after the others left, simply staring at the floor as his mind worked furiously. Despite his initial reaction, he now doubted there was anyway to remove Xemnas from the equation without everything collapsing in turmoil around him. Xemnas … was essential. It was undoubtedly true. He hated that conclusion, yet he knew it to be true. His orders would be followed and the world would weep. Perhaps the only way to survive was to stick as close to him as possible. A surprising change of plan perhaps, yet it was one that ensured survival. Vexen very much wanted to stay alive.
Before long he noticed a small twinkling on the floor before him. Refocusing his eyes, he touched it gently with a fingertip. It was cold. Ice cold.
Vexen smiled.