Disclaimer: No, I do not own Kingdom Hearts. Or Lifehouse or their song, Broken, which inspired me to write this angstiness. Or the Random House Dictionary of the English Language, which was kind enough to provide us with a definition for the title of this fic.
Warnings: Songfic of crazy length. If that counts. ANGST. Depression, fairly severe I guess. The past. Other stuff that would give away the plot. Language from Axel and Seifer. Ye be warned.
Author's Note: Another finished fic. Whoa. And I started this back in December. This fic goes back and forth between what's happening in the present and what happened in the past (which is in italics. Mind you, I said 'the past'; they're not flashbacks or memories). Most people don't understand what true depression is—it's a psychological mood disorder; not an intense feeling of overwhelming sadness. It's a lack of and inability to feel for anything, to put it really simply. And so you know, I'm not promoting what happens here as an acceptable solution to loss, but…I dunno. My muse dictated this for the lyrics.
Thank you, Alex, for beta-ing another of my monster fics…you have my eternal love for that. In case any of you are interested, she also making an amv for this. Because she's amazing that way. I'll post the link in my profile for you guys when it's done, hopefully in the next couple of days.
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Euthanasia—(n) 1. Also called mercy killing. The act of putting to death painlessly or allowing to die, as by withholding extreme medical measures, a person or animal suffering from an incurable, esp. a painful, disease or condition. 2. Painless death. --The Random House Dictionary of the English Language, Second Edition, Unabridged.
X-x-X-x
Euthanasia
x-X-x-X
The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out
Demyx couldn't remember the house ever being this quiet.
It wasn't just the quiet associated with a lack of movement and sound, the type that could be comfortable, or awkward, or just there. No, it was the unhealthy kind of silence, the kind that smothered everything else. It suffocated things to the point where there was an inability to move, where willpower died without you noticing, where nothing seemed to matter and all things lacked importance. You knew it was wrong, knew it was killing everything it touched, and yet…you feared what would happen if you broke it. It was the same kind of silence that drove people insane.
He wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting on the tiled kitchen floor like this, unmoving. It had to have been hours, Demyx thought, staring blankly at the legs of the wooden table before him. It was cold, and he was stiff now. He didn't know how Axel could sit here and do this day after day without any change of position or expression.
The blond turned his head slowly, feeling his whole body scream in protest, to look at the man sitting beside him. Axel sat with his back against the cabinets under the counter with his knees pulled up, arms resting across them. His head was tilted slightly back and to the side, eyes staring, empty, at the wooden cupboards on the opposite side of the room.
"Axel…?"
The redhead gave no indication he'd heard any sound at all, let alone his own name. No blinking, no shifting, no acknowledgement.
Heaving a pained sigh, Demyx forced himself away from the cabinets and realized how the raised edges of the wood had imprinted themselves sharply into his back. He tensed the muscles around his spine, trying to remind them how they were supposed to work after hours of disuse. Pulling his feet towards himself, the blond grabbed the closest chair and dragged his body into a standing position. Sort of. His backbone was still insisting that its current 'c' shape was natural. The chair's legs clattered loudly on the hard floor, unsteady with the awkward shift of another object's weight and the man's complete disregard for his dignity as he fought gravity.
Demyx glanced at Axel again, muttering curses under his breath at how sore everything felt and damn it, he ached all over… But for all the attention Axel gave him, he may as well have not been in the room. Still staring at the cabinetry, lost in his own little world, back when Roxas was still—
He gave his head a strong shake, dispelling the thoughts that tried to finish that statement and the prickling that immediately began behind his eyes. Instead, his gaze fell on the clock above the doorframe before remembering it hadn't been working properly for several weeks, and shifted instead to the one built into the stove.
Midnight. He'd been sitting here with Axel for seven hours. Demyx didn't want to know how long the redhead had been sitting there before he'd arrived.
His eyes darted up at the sound of shuffling just beyond the kitchen door, a dark figure materializing in the blackness of the kitchen. "Dem?"
"Yeah. You need something, Xigbar?" They spoke softly, as though worried that increasing their volume would disturb Axel's busy schedule. Right.
"Nah. What are you still doing down here, dude?"
A sigh. "…Axel's still here."
Xigbar didn't say anything for a moment, his eye focusing on Axel's motionless form which was only faintly visible in the darkness. "Still? He was chilling there when I got here."
A tightly coiled ball of fear dropped into the blond's stomach, bright blue-green eyes staring at the scarred man standing in the doorway. "When did you get here?"
"About…two o'clock-ish."
Demyx did some quick math in his head. "So he's been sitting here for over ten hours?! Has he eaten anything? Any water?"
The older man's brow furrowed, a frown crossing his features. "I dunno, dude. I totally thought that's what you were doing."
"Shit." The blond crossed the kitchen, throwing open one of the upper cabinets and pulling out a drinking glass. He slammed on the sink faucet, thrusting the cup under the flow of water until it was two thirds full before shutting it off. He set it on the counter and turned to Xigbar. "Help me pull him up. He can't stay down here anyway."
Xigbar nodded and crouched at Axel's side, meeting Demyx's determined gaze and lifting one of the redhead's arms over his shoulder. He waited for the blond to join him. "Ready when you are, Dem."
"'Kay. One, two, three!" They heaved upward at the same time, wincing at the abruptness of the redhead's dead weight, and bracing their positions to better support it.
Having been lifted by Demyx and Xigbar, Axel stood unsteadily on his feet, his own internal sense of balance kicking in despite his mind obviously being elsewhere. Yet his body made no effort to regain any sort of control over voluntary movement, his head of messily uncared for red hair lolling forward, watching the floor with unfocused eyes.
Demyx redistributed his portion of the redhead's weight, stretching out his left arm to grab the glass of water on the counter. Turning back to Xigbar, he shook his extra weight a little. "Pull his head back."
The slightly taller, scarred man twisted his left arm awkwardly up behind the redhead's back, grabbed the vibrantly colored hair and pulled. Axel's head see-sawed backwards, held in place by a firm grip at the base of his skull.
The blond took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes, hating the part that came next. But it had to be done; Axel didn't take the initiative to feed himself anymore. He lifted the glass of water in front of the redhead's face and glanced at the other man. "Grab his nose."
Xigbar brought his right hand around to close off Axel's nasal passages with his thumb and index finger, and then nodded at Demyx. "Do it."
A slight tilt of the glass and water flowed into Axel's mouth. Swiftly, the blond slammed the glass on the kitchen table and snapped his hand back to clamp his friend's jaw shut, trapping the water in a way where he'd have to swallow it. Sure enough, after a few seconds of silence there was a gagging, choking noise, the very sound of it tearing at Demyx's heartstrings.
The process was repeated four, five times. Axel didn't fight them; he never had, never did.
Demyx set the empty glass back by the sink and debated trying to find some simple food to force-feed Axel, maybe applesauce, but he just didn't have the energy tonight to go through the process again.
"Let's get 'im upstairs, Dem," Xigbar said quietly, his voice significantly subdued compared to how it normally was. "Get some sleep."
The blond nodded, feeling remarkably exhausted. "Yeah, okay. Let's go."
It took maybe seven minutes or so for the three of them to make it up the staircase to Demyx's guest bedroom where Axel had been staying for the last month. He didn't even bother undressing the redhead this time, just helped Xigbar lay him down on the sheets and tried not to think about whether or not the man would actually go to sleep.
"Night, Axel," he said softly, Xigbar already turning away and heading back towards the hallway.
Demyx went to follow when he noticed Axel's eyelids flutter rapidly, his head turning slowly away from them to face the wall. Pausing, he turned back to the bed, frowning worriedly at his friend when he saw it—a gentle reflective line of light trailing slowly from one visible half-closed eye.
Tears.
There was no change in the redhead's breathing, just the same even rise and fall of his ribcage, but silent tears traced damp tracks across his skin as proof that something was definitely wrong. Some inner source was releasing pain in the only way Axel would allow himself to show, just suffering in silence in some insulated corner of his mind. And Demyx knew what caused it, knew what was causing the pain, and he would have sacrificed the world and everything in it to reverse all that had happened, to all of them, and especially Axel.
But he didn't have that kind of power.
Instead he simply stared with a sort of morbid fascination as the other man cried without noise, without expression, doing nothing more than breathing and blinking. He didn't even notice when his own eyes started releasing tears without permission until a hand landed heavily on his shoulder, jerking him out of his frozen state to see Xigbar's stoic features.
"Demyx," Xigbar said softly, eyes watching Axel's empty face. "Let him be."
The blond nodded slowly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat that persisted on staying as he trailed after his friend to the door. Xigbar gently closed the bedroom door behind him.
"Do you want me to stay here, Dem?" the older man asked gently, his eyes a little more dim than usual as he examined Demyx's face.
Demyx shook his head and sniffled, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. He sighed shakily. "No, that's okay. Go home. 'Luxia will be here in the morning."
Xigbar nodded in acceptance, glancing away at the pictures lining the hallway. He ruffled the blond's hair. "Try not to dwell on it, okay man? He'll get better; dude just needs some time. It's only been three weeks."
"I know," Demyx said thickly, trying to strengthen his voice. "It just hurts, you know…? That I can't…I can't really do anything—"
"Just be there for him, Dem. Best thing you can do for him," Xigbar said wsiely, crossing his arms. "We just gotta help him find his feet again."
"Right," Demyx said, unconvinced. "We'll see."
Xigbar clapped him on the shoulder once and turned, heading for the stairs. "Later, man."
"Okay…oh, wait. Can you stop by their house tomorrow sometime…just make sure it hasn't been broken into or something?"
Pausing on the stairs, the other man looked back at him. "Sure. No problem, dude."
"Thanks."
"Night, Dem."
"Night."
Demyx didn't move until the front door closed loudly before drifting downstairs to lock it, then trudged back up the steps to his room. He couldn't help himself, opening the door to Axel's room just a fraction to see how much the redhead hadn't moved in the last couple of minutes, although the tears had stopped. He retreated after a few moments and continued to his own room, slamming the door behind him just because he could.
He was so angry, so desperate, so hurt…he was doing everything he could to support his best friend, or who had used to be his best friend—called in and gotten Axel leave from work, moved him out of that house full of now-painful memories and into his, contacted friends who agreed to alternate shifts to keep an eye on the redhead while he was at work, tried to help him cope with the loss of the man who had become his life—and it felt like everything wasn't enough. It wasn't enough. There was no relief, no acknowledgement, no fucking progress, and he didn't even know why he bothered anymore, if Axel wasn't going to even try and pull himself back—
Because Axel was his best friend. And he'd be damned if he wasn't going to look out for him in his hour—or three weeks, or however long it turned out to be—of need. It wasn't Axel's fault that he didn't know how to piece himself back together.
He slumped onto his bed and let his head fall into his hands. He was so tired… They were all hurting, they had all lost him…other than Axel, Sora was probably in the most pain, having lost not just a brother but a twin. It just…wasn't fair.
Breathing deeply, he threaded his fingers through his hair, rocking slightly back and forth on the edge of his bed as he tried to stay calm and keep himself from falling apart, because heaven forbid if both he and Axel lost it. So he compromised.
Demyx cried most of the night, feeling as though he'd lost not one friend, but two.
I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on,
I'm barely holdin' on to you
The door banged open as Roxas stormed into the house and threw his keys at the side table, tossing his coat in the vague direction of the living room while he disappeared into the back rooms.
Several long moments later, Axel hesitantly approached the recently-opened front door, no small amount of trepidation on his features. "Rox…?"
There was no answer as green eyes darted around the front entryway, wary of any and all possible projectiles sharp, blunt, or otherwise that could be thrown at his person. It wouldn't have been the first time. When it became clear that nothing in the immediate vicinity was going to become airborn anytime soon, the redhead sighed, entered the house, and closed the door quietly behind him.
This seemed to be the cue Roxas had been waiting for, as he came out of the kitchen and back towards the front of the house the moment Axel turned around.
"Why do you do that?"
Axel sighed again and looked away, really not looking forward to this conversation. "Rox—"
"This isn't the first, or the second, or the third time you've done this, Axel. We've already talked about this. Several times. So why?"
Axel threw a glance at the ceiling before looking at the shorter, furious blond glaring at him. "I didn't—"
"Are you rolling your eyes at me?" Roxas interrupted, incredulously crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. "You did not just do that."
"I did not!" Axel protested, bringing his hands up to gesture about his innocence. "Sheesh, Roxas, this isn't that big of a deal!"
The temperature in the entryway abruptly dropped several degrees as Roxas's eyes froze over, and Axel belatedly realized that that probably hadn't been the smartest thing to say.
"Oh…" the blond said softly, and Axel knew for sure he was in deep trouble. "So it's okay to flirt with other people now?"
Yeah, no, Axel agreed with himself, that had not been the smartest thing to say. Some damage control would be nice right about now.
"Well, no," Axel admitted, wishing his brain would work just that little bit faster. "But Rox, I didn't mean anything by it."
"You know," Roxas said coldly, "after the first couple of times, I believed you. You need to think up a better excuse now."
This time Axel really did roll his eyes as he squeezed past his blond partner to head into the living room. "Right, because a 'better excuse' will just magically appear out of thin air."
Roxas followed hot on his heels. "Well why do you keep doing that if I already told you I don't like it and it needs to stop?"
"I can't help it Roxas, okay? I see good-looking people, I flirt. That's just how it goes."
The blond stared at him in silence, arms still crossed and his eyes hard.
"Not that there's anyone better-looking than you," Axel backtracked quickly, frowning at himself. "That didn't come out right."
Roxas continued staring at him.
"Come on, Rox," Axel complained, putting one hand on his hip and waving around the other. "You don't even like it when I flirt with you that way."
"Because it's cheesy. That's not the point."
"Haven't you ever had anything pop into your head and you just have to say it? It's like that, so if I can't say it to you, I'll say it to someone else."
Roxas shifted his weight and glowered at the redhead. "When you flirted with Kairi and Naminé, I was okay with that. Because they're friends and I trust them—"
"And you don't trust me?" Axel asked indignantly, disbelieving and affronted.
"—and because they're female," Roxas overrode him loudly, raising his eyes to watch the ceiling beyond Axel's head. "Which I guess, in reality, doesn't mean anything really—"
"Roxas!"
"—and then there were the random strangers we met whenever we went out, who were also female, and I was irritated, but it didn't bother me too much—"
"Roxas, that's not—"
"—but then there were the guys, while I was right there, and that's when I—"
"Dammit, Roxas, give me a chance to defend myself! I was not flirting with them!"
"So the comments about hair and eyes and smiles were just figments of my jealous, overactive imagination?!"
"Well I—Rox—I already told you it wasn't anything serious!"
Now they were both shouting with the intent to be heard, self-righteous anger coming from both sides in a way that, from its very nature, would not permit any sort of compromise.
"Why can't you exercise a little self-control—"
"This is not about self-control! Why are you practically psychoanalyzing me like I have some sort of problem?"
"Then what is this about, Axel?"
They stared at each other, both of them angry and upset, and a chasm was growing rapidly between them, but neither of them knew how to bridge the gap.
"Why do you have to make this so hard…?"
"Look, Roxas, I don't want to fight over this again, okay?" Axel said tiredly, gripping the hair at the back of his head. "Can we just drop this? It's not like I'm sleeping with those people, or something."
Roxas glared at Axel, eyes widening. "Why would you say something like that?!"
Axel threw his hands in the air, thoroughly frustrated with the blond's refusal to let things go. "Because it's a completely ridiculous idea! I'm living with you, aren't I?"
The blond gave his partner a withering look and muttered something under his breath, spun on his heel, and stalked into the hallway.
"Roxas…" Axel called after him wearily, moving to trace Roxas's footsteps. "Just—"
Roxas slammed the bedroom door closed as the redhead approached. Axel exhaled irritably and jiggled the doorknob. Locked.
"Roxas, don't be like this. Open the door."
An object with significant weight, most likely a tennis shoe or boot, hit the other side of the wood with a cracking thud, making Axel jerk back reflexively.
"Oh sh—Roxas!" Axel snapped angrily, a hand massaging the left side of his chest. "Don't do that!"
The blond responded with something Axel couldn't understand, the words muffled through the paneled barrier.
"Rox—"
The door clicked open. Axel paused as Roxas pushed past him, and not just because of the blond's quietly steaming expression. He was carrying a suitcase.
"Whoa, wait, Roxas. Where are you going?" Axel asked worriedly, the sight of the luggage igniting an immediate sense of panic.
"Sora's," Roxas said curtly, his words toneless and even as he stopped by the living room to pick up his coat lying haphazardly over the back of the couch.
Axel's stomach dropped like a stone at the realization of what Roxas meant. This was not a family visit; Roxas was leaving. He reached out and settled a hand on the blond's shoulder, afraid that being too forceful would set the younger man off.
"Rox wait—" the blond threw his coat over his arm "—don't do this, we can work this out, seriously—"
Roxas shook his head, nudging his way past Axel and picking up his discarded car keys as he made his way to the front door.
"Roxas—" Axel forced the door closed with a hand when the other man tried to open it, and this time anxiety was clearly present in this voice. "You know I love you, right?"
The blond stilled for a few seconds, his head swiveling to the side slowly until Axel could see his profile. But he didn't say anything.
And a fear Axel had never felt before welled up inside his chest, smothering everything except the notion that the man he loved was separating from him because he couldn't keep his damn mouth shut. "You don't…you don't really think that…that I don't…"
He couldn't finish the sentence; he felt shell-shocked, with his breath coming slowly and a rapid-fire heart rate combining to create a crippling paralysis that was almost impossible to break free from.
"Roxas…why…?"
This time Roxas released the suitcase and turned to face him, blue eyes furious, hurt, saddened, and determined all at the same time. "Because I'm tired of wondering that maybe I'm not enough for you," he said softly. "That maybe there's a reason behind all the flirting that I'm just refusing to see."
"That's not—"
"I think," Roxas interrupted, not at all raising his voice, but effective just the same, "that you need some time to think things through about what it is you want. Because I'm not willing to stand around forever, and wait for you to figure things out."
"I—"
Roxas reached up, tangled a hand in red hair as he pulled Axel down to his level, and kissed him. It was chaste and warm and over far too soon as the blond slowly pulled away, and Axel still couldn't move, because while it didn't feel like goodbye, it was pretty damn close.
"I'll be at Sora's," Roxas told him tightly, picking up his bag again and opening the door. "I'll contact you in three days and we'll talk then."
Axel was silent as the door opened, closed, and blocked Roxas from view. Axel wondered what the hell he was doing just standing around.
"Roxas, wait—" He threw the door open in time to see their car backing down the driveway, the blond's expression one Axel recognized as the stoic mask he wore right before he broke down. The car was down the street and turning the corner in mere seconds, and Roxas was gone.
Axel stared down the street for half a minute, trying to believe the car would turn around and come back, but the longer he stood only made the truth more real. He turned around and went inside, closing the door for the third time in thirty minutes, denial running rampant through his system. The sensation of being disconnected from reality he was currently experiencing was new to him; life had never seemed as artificial as it did right now, alone, in a house that was not meant for a single occupant.
Harsh breathing echoed in his ears, and those were his breaths he was hearing, his inhalations and exhalations bouncing around in his head; and despite the advice of some deep-seated instincts, he was not going to go absolutely bat-shit or start bawling his eyes out.
"Shit," Axel muttered, hating the way his voice wavered shakily in the air as he dug through his pockets for his cell phone, found it, and dialed. He waited for the other end to pick up. "Demyx…? Yeah. I think I just majorly fucked up…"
The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead
And I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life
Demyx was pulling up in his driveway as he returned from work the next evening when he heard the chaos emanating from his house. While it was not an entirely unusual thing to hear, he was usually inside the house when it occurred and somehow involved in the cause of why it was happening. All the crashing, yelling, shattering…
His heart leaping into his throat, he dashed out of the vehicle and into his house, wondering what could possibly be happening that sounded as though the building was being torn apart from the inside out. The front door refused to open on the first couple of tries, making his heart pound in his ribcage before his fingers remembered how to use the keys and let him stumble frantically into the tiled entry area.
"'Luxia? Axel?" he called, dropping his bag to the floor while his eyes darted anxiously into the living room on the right.
The room was in complete shambles: chairs overturned but not broken, couch pillows on the carpet, the floor lamp knocked over and half unplugged. But what caught his eye was the lack of a mirror over the fireplace mantle. Yes, there was supposed to be one the—wait. The frame was still in place, but…
Multiple, warped reflections stared back at Demyx in stunned astonishment, and a few steps forward into the room revealed jagged shards of glass scattered over the floor in front of the fireplace. Large pieces of a porcelain picture frame lay broken on the mantle, interspersed with more glass in a glittering mess. One of the wrought iron candlesticks that normally sat above the fireplace was missing.
Demyx snapped out of his shock at the sound of more glass breaking upstairs, accompanied by excessive shouting and heavy thuds.
"Axel! Don't!"
"No!"
"Stop, don't—"
"I don't want to see it!"
Demyx turned and ran up the stairs, two at a time, hearing the sharp crack of something connecting soundly with a solid object and the tinkling of shattered glass on a tiled floor.
"'Luxia! Where are you?" the blond called, his voice sounding panicky even to his own ears.
"Bathroom," Marluxia answered curtly, the words strained and preoccupied, scuffling and bangs following immediately after.
Flinging himself around the staircase railing in the direction of his friend's voice, Demyx ran for the second floor bathroom. Slamming both hands onto the doorframe to stop his movement, he stared wildly around the room before realizing both Axel and Marluxia were off to his left less than a foot away. He froze.
Marluxia glanced at him from where he was pinning a struggling redhead to the wall, his socked feet fighting for purchase on the smooth floor. The mirror in there had also been destroyed, spidery cracks radiating from several points of impact, the glass chipped and scratched in other places. The missing candlestick lay deserted on the floor, the tile beneath it dented and fractured from such a heavy object landing unforgivingly on fragile porcelain.
"What's…what's going on?" Demyx asked in confusion, staring from one man to the other.
Axel abruptly went limp at the blond's inquiring words, abandoning his efforts to free himself and letting the other man just hold him there against the wall. Marluxia eyed him with suspicion before warily loosening his grip.
"We were just in the living room," Marluxia started, still watching Axel with narrowed eyes. "Just sitting on the couch…he was staring at the fireplace, or I thought he was, and I was reading. Then he got up and went over to examine it, so I stopped to watch him…" a look of confusion passed over his features, "and he snatched up that," he nodded at the iron decorative piece on the floor, "and smashed the mirror over the fireplace. Then he took off running before I could even get up."
Demyx turned to stare at his redheaded friend, who let himself slide slowly down the wall until he was crouched on the bathroom tile. "Axel…what are you doing…?"
Axel put his head in his hands. "I don't want to see it anymore," he said breathed quietly.
The blond looked at Marluxia. "'see it anymore'?" he asked.
Marluxia growled in frustration. "He keeps saying that, but I have no idea what he's talking about. I think that's his reason for breaking the mirrors."
"How many did he get to?"
"Two downstairs, two upstairs, including this one."
"I have that many?"
Marluxia just gave him a dry look.
Demyx paused in thought, shifting his gaze to the fractured glass in front of him. "And he only went after the mirrors?"
The pink-haired man nodded. "Just the mirrors."
Staring solemnly at the redhead huddled on the floor with a troubled frown, Demyx lowered himself to a crouch in front of him. "Axel," he questioned gently, poking a finger at one of the other man's knees. "Are you trying to destroy your reflection?"
"I don't want to see it anymore," Axel muttered through his hands, his fingers tensing and relaxing at the words.
"You don't want to see your reflection…?"
"There's nothing wrong with your reflection," Marluxia said sharply, crossing his arms in irritation.
Demyx turned and glared at him, telling him non-verbally that now would be a really good time to shut the hell up. He turned back to Axel. "Is it your reflection, or some part of your reflection?"
"I just…I just don't know how to fix it…how do I bring him back…?" Axel asked himself, his voice vulnerable and lost, not even looking at the blond. "They look so empty…I'm tired of seeing them…I don't know what to do anymore…"
"Seeing what?"
Axel shoved his palms into his eyes, as though putting enough pressure on them could stop them from catching sight of anything.
Demyx observed him quietly for a few moments, leaning back slightly on his heels. "You don't want to see your eyes, is that it?"
The redhead remained silent and unmoving, just breathing softly.
The blond sighed and looked him over sadly, knowing exactly what Axel was referring to. It wasn't particularly hard to notice…the empty, hollow space in cool green eyes. If eyes were the window to the soul, then it was clear there was a broken soul within that body, if it had one at all. And not just that—there was so much pain there, it was tangible, and the guilt…Demyx didn't think he'd ever seen anyone carrying that much guilt, for any reason.
Axel had been re-living, breathing, remembering those last three days of Roxas's life since he'd been left alone; had torn himself apart, pulled out every one of his own flaws Roxas had ever mentioned or alluded to and saddled them with the blame for why things had turned out the way they had. Roxas had taken the best of him, Axel had expelled what he considered the worst of himself, and now that left him with nothing and no way to get any of it back.
"Axel…"
"Roxas liked your eyes, Axel."
The man on the floor started violently and tore his hands away from his face, peering at Marluxia with wild, pained eyes. "…he liked…?"
"'Luxia, can you go downstairs please? If you clean the downstairs, I'll clean the glass up here," Demyx said tightly, keeping his eyes trained on Axel's face.
The pink-haired man rolled his eyes and moved past both of them. "Fine. I'll be in the living room, then."
"Thank you."
"Hmph."
Axel stared blankly at his hands; Demyx could feel him retreating into himself, something he did to re-visit those memories when Roxas was still around. The blond took a good look at the redhead's hands, inhaling sharply when he noticed the tiny lacerations weeping blood criss-crossing the skin.
"Your hands are bleeding! What did you do to them?"
He didn't get a response back other than a blinking of the eyes, so he picked up one of the abused hands and looked it over carefully. The small slices of the skin weren't very deep, not enough to worry him anyway, but there were quite a few of them, some of them with glass still embedded in the cuts.
"Did you break one with your fists? The smaller one in the bedroom?"
Axel just raised his eyes to meet Demyx's, the light and life in them completely extinguished.
"Axel…you can get through this," Demyx told him gently, feeling his heart ache in his chest as he opened a nearby drawer and removed a pair of tweezers he normally used for splinters. "It won't hurt this badly forever."
There was no sound for the next couple of minutes other than Marluxia moving around below them while the blond carefully went over the fresh scratches. Axel didn't make any noise as Demyx carefully pulled out the last of the slivers, set the tweezers aside, and cleaned the palms, fingers, back of the hands, wrists, and lower arms with antiseptic. Then—
"Broken hearts shouldn't be able to beat," Axel murmured, his voice barely more than a ragged whisper.
Demyx froze in the middle of finishing his friend's hands, frightened (although he didn't entirely understand why) eyes flitting to a pale, weary face. He forced himself keep breathing. "Don't say things like that," the blond responded with a firmness that still wavered, the words spoken not much louder than Axel's. "Broken hearts can heal."
There were a few more moments of silence between them, and Demyx thought Axel had accepted that cliché, meaningless answer. He should have known better.
"…and if I don't want it healed? What if I just want it to stop…?"
This time Demyx gradually lifted his blue-green eyes to meet dark jade and for once in his life, he felt completely speechless.
Eventually he took Axel downstairs and sat him in the kitchen with Marluxia, before returning to pick up all the glass on the floor. He carefully cleaned the carpets, examined the counters, and covered all the untouched and salvageable mirrors left in the house. Not long after that he made dinner and then Marluxia went home.
When Demyx climbed into bed that night, he still didn't have an answer to Axel's question.
I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain (in the pain) Is there healing?
In your name (in your name) I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on (I'm still holding),
I'm holdin' on (I'm still holding),
I'm holdin' on (I'm still holding)
I'm barely holdin' on to you
Sora silently paced a long line along the clean white linoleum floor, his muscles drawn taut with tension, feeling as though the slightest provocation would be enough to send him crashing into the emotional pile of rubble his brain was already threatening to become. Riku and Kairi stood nearby: the redhead staring at her feet with blank eyes, Riku watching his best friend pace outside his twin's hospital room.
Riku shifted the cell phone against his ear, listening intently for anything other than the mind-numbing echo of repetitive ringing. The call went to voicemail, and he exhaled, snapping the phone closed and glancing at the doors across the hall.
"He's still not picking up," he said quietly.
"Where is he?"
Riku and Kairi exchanged glances.
"We don't know," Kairi replied finally, not meeting Sora's eyes.
"Is his phone off? Did he lose it?"
"Don't know," Riku sighed, sliding his hands back into his pockets.
"Does he care?"
"He doesn't know, Sora, don't say that," Kairi said reprimandingly, giving the brunet a sharp look. "I know they had their problems, but every couple goes through that."
Sora looked away, his eyes roving restlessly over the walls, ceiling, doors, attempting to repress the surge of anger he was currently feeling for his brother's boyfriend for not being here. And Riku's cell phone, for failing in reaching Axel. And that stupid semi, for running a red light.
All eyes snapped to the side as the door they were waiting on clicked open to reveal a solemn-looking brunette nurse, her ponytails strangely only adding to her downcast expression. Sora was in front of her in an instant.
"Will he be okay? He's on medication, right? He's not in a lot of pain, is he?"
"Sora…" Riku reached out a hand to his friend and gently pulled him backwards. "Give her some space."
"Will he be alright?" Kairi asked hesitantly, studying the message in dark green eyes.
A tall blond man appeared in the doorway behind the nurse before she could say anything, his scarred brow crinkled with stress and frustration. "Move it, peewees," he snapped, shoving his way roughly out of the room and yanking the door shut behind him.
"How's Roxas?" Sora asked urgently, pushing up close to the man.
"His truck was hit by an eighteen wheeler," the doctor deadpanned, rubbing his temple with one hand. "At least it was just the truck and not the trailer too, but seriously, what do you think? "
"Seifer!" the nurse exclaimed angrily, hitting his arm with her clipboard.
"Yeah, yeah, Olette," he muttered in reply, rubbing the sleeve of his doctor's coat.
Sora's jaw clenched tightly as his eyes darkened, his fingers curling. Riku quickly pulled the brunet out of swinging range.
"I'm sorry about him," Olette said apologetically. "He's been running three days without sleep already."
"Just stop being an ass, Almasy," Riku replied coldly, keeping a firm hold on the collar of Sora's shirt. "Tell us what's going on."
Seifer scowled and crossed his arms, his gaze running the length of the corridor. "There isn't much we can do for him," he said flatly.
Somewhere down the hall and around the corner, a pair of high heels made their presence known.
"He has dozens of broken bones: ribs, arms, legs, some fractures. We've got him on a ventilator to keep him breathing, but he's got massive internal hemorrhaging—"
Riku and Kairi traded looks again, anxiety in their expressions as Seifer continued speaking.
"—trauma to the kidneys and liver, and intense damage to the spinal cord resulting in paralysis from the hips down." The blond doctor shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, meeting Sora's eyes as the brunet's face went from pale to white.
"So," Kairi started, her voice trembling in a way that announced she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. "So you can't…"
"We've been giving him transfusions, but we can't stop the bleeding—there's too much damage," Seifer confirmed, glancing at Olette. "His body won't hold it; he's bleeding it out at fast as we can get it in. And because of that, there's no way to justify putting him on the kidney, or liver, or any organ transplant list."
Riku's eyes fluttered closed at the news, dragging a hand down his face that settled over his mouth. Sora whimpered and bit his lip, his breath coming increasingly fast and choppy.
"Oh, Sora…" Kairi breathed, eyes bright with unshed tears as she enveloped him in her arms. "Sora, I'm so sorry…"
The brunet released a strangled, drawn-out wail, burying his face in his girlfriend's neck and squeezing her tightly. Riku stood nearby and painfully watched his best friend break down, swallowing hard as Sora dissolved into gasping tears. The taller man turned to stare, stone-faced, at Seifer from under his bangs.
"We're going to lose him," he said softly, eyes darting back to Sora and Kairi's shaking forms. It was not a question; it was re-affirmation.
Seifer bit the inside of his cheek and let his eyes drift briefly to the floor, raising them moments later to lock with the silver-haired man's. The blond looked distinctly uncomfortable, his gaze flickering occasionally back to Sora.
"Yeah," he said finally, lifting his chin slightly as though challenging Riku to say otherwise. "He's on a lot of pain meds, but we can't keep using blood on him; we're just wasting it."
Riku's eyes flashed with anger. "It's not wast—"
"It's the truth," Seifer cut him off harshly, eyes narrowing. He crossed his arms. "Any blood we give him is lost. We can't reuse it. And there are people here who need blood and it will actually help them."
Aquamarine eyes gradually drifted away from sharp blue, at a loss for anything to say. Riku turned just enough to see Kairi and Sora, noting the way his best friend shuddered against the redhead. Kairi's tearstained face observed him quietly past Sora's spiky hair.
"And that's it…? There's nothing else…?"
Seifer took a deep breath and shrugged, watching all three of them with tired eyes. "We've done all we can for him: reset his legs, pieced his arms back together, whatever we could, but it's not enough and we gotta stop the transfusions soon. We've moved him to a separate room so you can say your goodbyes in private and whatever."
Riku glanced at the door to the room in question with hesitant reluctance, his heart shying away from the idea of saying goodbye to anyone.
"It's not pretty," the blond doctor told him, his voice gruff. "I've no idea how that lam—Roxas—survived at all. I heard his car was—"
Olette elbowed him hard in the side, pulling up a nasty glare over her downcast expression.
Seifer grimaced and glared back at her.
Sora's best friend gestured at the door. "Can we?"
Seifer sized him up for a few seconds, eyes shifting from Riku to Kairi and settling on the brunet. "We did what we could. I'm sorry."
With that, Seifer swept past them and walked away, leaving them standing in the hallway outside Roxas's room.
They glanced up as the sound of heels came closer, a small blond in white passing the retreating doctor and approaching them.
"Naminé …"
The blond woman took one look at Riku's expression and hugged him. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "I got here as soon as I could. I called Demyx, and he's bringing Axel."
"Oh god, Axel…" Riku muttered, staring in muted horror at Naminé .
Naminé peered back at him. "Roxas…he's not…he's…"
"He soon will be," Riku said, his voice low. "He's lost a lot of blood—"
"I want to see him," Sora said abruptly, sniffling.
Naminé left Riku to go hug Sora, pulling away as the brunet moved towards the nurse. "Let me see Roxas."
Olette smiled sadly at him. "Of course. He's in an induced coma right now to protect him from the pain, but I can bring him out of it so he's aware of you. Would you like me to do that?"
Sora rubbed at his eyes with his right hand. "Will it hurt him?"
"Well…yes," Olette admitted with blunt honesty. "I'll have to reduce his meds to bring him out of it and so he can hear and understand you."
"Then don't do it," Sora said with surprising strength. "Nevermind then. I don't want him to hurt any more than he has to."
"Sora…" Kairi said, watching his face closely.
"Sora," Riku echoed, shoving his hands into his pants pockets again. "I know he's in pain…a lot of it…but do you really think Roxas would want to…go…without having the chance to say anything? Would you want to?"
The brunet tugged at his lower lip with his teeth, large uncertain blue eyes darting from Kairi to Riku to Olette. "Do you…should I…?"
"Well, it wouldn't…wouldn't be for very long, Sora," the nurse tried to say somewhat tactfully, ignoring how the other man's face blanched. "I'm…going to have to halt the blood transfusions and the ventilator, too."
"Come on, Sora," Naminé spoke up from beside Riku. "You know Roxas would want to see you."
Sora glanced at her, taking a few deep breaths. Then he nodded. "Okay."
Olette turned around and gently opened the door, holding it ajar as they all filed into the room.
The newcomers froze at the sight of the body on the hospital bed.
"Oh my god, Roxas…" Sora whispered shakily, slowly approaching his brother.
The nurses had tried but not entirely succeeded at removing the blood from Roxas's blond hair, the colored strands matted in wet, reddish tangled clumps. Swelling adorned the left side of his face, the bruised nose swollen and discolored with hues of deep blues and purples, contrasting darkly with the lack of color of the surrounding untouched skin. Small burns adorned his forehead, the line of his jaw, and along the side of his throat. All clothes had been cut away to provide access to multiple cuts and burn wounds, leaving a stark white hospital sheet pulled up to his waist. An oxygen tube ran down his throat to aid his breathing, the plastic mouthpiece fastened securely over his mouth to keep it from moving and the other end connected to a ventilator.
Sections of his arms were bandaged as was his upper chest around the ribs, patches of swollen dark purple skin showing through the wrapping on his torso from the internal bleeding. Spaces where there were no bandages were occupied by raw, newly-acquired burns, the areas cleaned but left open to the air. Some of them still bled sluggishly, appearing wet and shiny in the hospital room light. Sensors were taped to his chest in a series of wires leading to a cardiogram on a cart next to the bed, the bluish-green electrical lines beeping across the screen depicting his heartbeat. A needle had been inserted in each arm, one leading to an IV drip and the other connected to a narrow tube guiding the donated blood into the comatose figure. As Seifer had previously mentioned, Roxas was still bleeding heavily, although the presence of the bandages slowed the rate of blood loss. It stained the sheets he was lying on an ugly dark red color, spreading in a growing arc from his abdomen towards his arms.
"Rox…Roxas…?" Sora asked tremulously, unable to prevent himself from sounding like a lost, stunned five-year-old.
"Here," the brunette nurse piped up softly, moving around the frozen visitors and exchanging Roxas's IV bag for something different. "Just give him a few minutes to wake up."
One hundred and thirty seconds passed in total silence before there was any noticeable effect. Gradually, wrinkles appeared in the blond man's forehead as his eyebrows drew together, the action soon followed by the quivering of eyelids and golden eyelashes.
"Roxas…?" Sora repeated, one of his hands hovering uncertainly above a bandaged arm.
"Some of the medication's wearing off…I reduced the dosage and took him off the drugs inducing his coma," Olette said calmly, carefully leaning over Roxas. "Roxas, can you hear me?"
Roxas's eyes slowly opened partway as they watched, revealing hazily clouded blue irises as they eventually focused on the nurse. His face contorted jerkily at the onset of conscious pain and the bewilderment of not knowing where he was or why an endotracheal tube had been inserted down his throat.
"Calm down," Olette insisted, keeping her voice low and even. "You're in a hospital, Roxas. You were in an accident. Sora and some of your friends are here to see you."
Confused, half-open eyes drifted from Olette to the scared brunet man standing by his bedside.
"Hey, Rox…" Sora began, swallowing hard and fighting tooth and nail to drag up some resemblance of a smile. He cleared his throat. "You…you got hit by a semi-truck on your way home from work." Another pause as Sora pulled his eyes away from his twin, running his tongue over dry lips and crossing his arms uncomfortably. "We, uh…we called Axel…he's on his way…"
His twin's eyes flickered at the name, even as he kept his gaze locked on Sora.
"You lost a lot of blood Roxas," Sora continued quietly, gnawing at his lower lip and blinking rapidly. "A lot of blood…"
He raised his eyes back to Roxas's and noticed how his face still twitched at the combined sensation of his injuries, yet his eyes, although not fully open, were steady and unblinking. Roxas understood what Sora was alluding to but couldn't bring himself to say. Sora reached out a hand and took one of his brother's with the utmost gentleness.
He glanced up at Olette. "How much…how much left…?"
Olette eyed the blood bag on other side of the bed. "Three minutes, max, Sora. Maybe."
"Three…? Just three minutes?"
"There's no way Axel's going to make it here in that time…" Naminé said softly, her sad eyes flickering over her friend. Riku put his arm around her.
Roxas's eyes fluttered closed at Naminé's words, re-opening them to stare at his twin, and Sora could see he was frightened, and distraught, and wanted his other half. The brunet squeezed his hand.
Sora, I'm dying, aren't I?
Sora took a deep breath, watching his brother's battered features. It wasn't the first time he and Roxas had communicated with some sort of twin telepathy. More like moods and feelings translated into, for the most part, highly accurate words and phrases. Yeah, Rox. Yeah.
I…It hurts, Sora.
I'm so sorry, Roxas. I should have come picked you up at work or something—
Sora, stop. Don't.
But I could have—
Where is Axel?
Sora turned slightly to look at Riku. Riku raised an eyebrow in return. He's on his way…we couldn't get ahold of him at first…
Roxas looked away, but Sora could see the wetness of his eyes. So he won't…I was going to call him when I got back to your place. Things weren't supposed to turn…out this way.
I know, Roxas.
I'm scared, Sora. I feel cold…is it supposed to…feel this way?
The brunet snapped his head up, searching for the remaining blood level in Roxas's last bag. It's not…I thought we had more time! You're cold? Just stay a little while longer, please, Roxas.
Roxas would have smiled weakly if he'd been able to, struggling to stay focused on his brother's face. I love you, Sora…you know that. But I need you…to tell…Axel…something.
Of course, Rox! Anything…
Tell him…tell him I love him…that… Here the blond seemed to wrestle with his words, and Sora could sense his thoughts scattering.
Roxas! Stay with me here, Roxas, don't—
…that it'll be okay…and I'll…tell him I'll…
But his brother was fading; Sora could see it in the narrow slit of his eyes where that veil of pain was not only strengthening, but bringing darkness as well. And Sora could feel the panic settling into his system, threatening to tear a gaping hole in his chest around the general area where his heart supposedly rested.
"Roxas…you can't leave me yet! What am I supposed to do without my twin?!"
...that I'll…
"Roxas!"
"Sora…"
"Sora, I'm sorry…"
…I'll…
"ROXAS!"
"Sora! You're going to hyperventilate!"
With a high-pitched whine, the cardiogram flat-lined. And in a split second he was gone, their bond severed.
Sora shrieked in fear and threw himself at the bed, and probably would have tackled the body lying there if Riku hadn't restrained him from behind. With an arm around his waist and the other across his chest, Riku forcefully dragged Sora away from Roxas as he continued to scream, clawing at his best friend and reaching for his brother at the same time.
"Roxas! You can't just leave me ALONE!"
"You're not alone, Sora," Riku replied severely, spinning the brunet around and pinning him to his chest. "You're never alone."
Sora continued to fight for several long seconds, resisting the way his arms were flattened to his sides in Riku's embrace. Realizing any more effort would be in vain, the brunet finally stilled, breathing fast, sniffling, and started bawling like a toddler.
Riku glanced uncertainly over Sora's shoulder at Kairi and Naminé. Kairi simply gave him a dimmed, soft smile as Naminé pulled her phone out of her purse. He patted Sora awkwardly on the back while the other man cried and made a general mess of his shirt, rocking him slowly from side to side, Sora's fingers grasping at his back.
"My twin is gone…" Sora whimpered.
Naminé hung up her cell phone and turned to Sora and Riku with red eyes. "That was Demyx," she told them, her voice hardly audible. "They're almost here."
Olette observed them all silently, feeling emotionally drained. She picked up the clipboard she'd set down in order to change the IV bag, pulled out a pen, and made a final note on Roxas's chart.
Time of Death— 7:38 p.m.
I'm hangin' on another day
Just to see what you will throw my way
And I'm hangin' on to the words you say
You said that I will…
Will be ok…
A vibrant setting sun filled the now glass-free living room with a warm wash of reddish-gold light, signaling the end of yet another day. The room was empty, but in today's world, rooms don't need actual people in them in order to appear occupied anymore.
With the sunlight, comforting warmth, and general air of ease emanating from the place, complete with the slightly muted tones of a woman's voice, it was more than likely that someone should have been resting in there. Instead, the abandoned news anchor on the television screen continued to talk about important issues to her audience of no one.
"—return to our lead story, coming to us live. Aerith, what exactly is going on over there?"
The room waited patiently as the station switched over to a short, pretty brunette reporter with a gentle face.
"Well Tifa, no one is absolutely sure what caused it, but an extraordinary fire has broken out in one of the houses on this otherwise very quiet street…"
The camera panned out as a group of firemen ran yelling across the yard behind the pink-clad woman, dragging heavy fire hoses through the grass. Aerith turned and gestured at the scene behind her, expression genuinely sad and regretful.
"As you can see, the firemen are working hard at containing the fire and protecting the surrounding houses—"
Tongues of flame grasped at the darkening sky in glorious shades of red, orange, and gold, racing up to the upper story despite persistent attempts to halt its progress.
"—appears a neighbor immediately called 911 when he noticed the blaze, but unfortunately the fire was already well under way by the time the firefighters arrived—"
A soft breeze unfurled through the room, making the curtains rustle in comment at the news. The sound of a washing machine churned into life in a distant room.
"—I'm afraid no one would give me a clear answer on whether or not anyone was in the house when the fire first started, but no bodies have been removed as of yet—"
The cameraperson focused now on the house, filled from within with a fiery, glowing aura that seemed to create its own halo which was backlit by the setting sun. Everything outside it just felt surreal.
"—and the most they can do is keep it from spreading, but the house itself is thought to be a lost cause…"
Outside, the sound of an approaching vehicle grew louder, followed by the rough bump of tires entering a driveway. Not long after, the engine cut off.
"This is Aerith Gainesborough, reporting live from 1308 Morning Destiny Avenue…"
The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone
I may have lost my way now, having forgot my way home…
Sitting alone in his car outside his house, Demyx almost didn't want to go inside. It was practically more stressful to be home than at work.
Sighing, he slumped forward and draped himself over the steering wheel, staring forlornly at the windows. Looks like Zexion opened the curtains, Demyx thought. Probably a good thing. A little light never hurt anyone.
Fumbling blindly with one hand for the door, Demyx dragged his work bag out of the passenger seat and clambered out of the vehicle. Brushing some stray hair from his eyes, he shut the car door behind him and started for the house.
He drew to a stop mere feet from the entryway, tilting his head in perplexed uncertainty as that little ball of stress curled up in his stomach informed his brain that yes, this was something to be worried about.
The front door was open.
Demyx approached with caution, unsure if this lax in security was intentional or not, but there didn't seem to be anyone nearby.
"Zexy?" he inquired nervously as he took a couple faltering steps inside.
There was the thump of a metal lid farther into the house. Zexion appeared at the end of the hallway not long after, glaring at him.
"Zexion," Demyx amended quickly, depositing his keys on a hook by the door. "Sorry."
His shorter friend just nodded at him, watching as the blond set his bag by the door and started shrugging out of his coat. "Do you normally get home around six?" he asked.
Demyx paused for a moment to meet Zexion's waiting expression. "Uh…yeah, I guess. I'm a little early today, though. Why?"
Zexion frowned at him while unrolling his shirt sleeves. "Don't give me that look. Naminé called. She wanted to check in on you and Axel, and I informed her you wouldn't be back until six or sometime after that."
"Oh, okay," Demyx said agreeably, eyeing the dark-haired man's movements with his shirt. "I'll get back to her then. And what have you been doing?"
"Axel's laundry," Zexion replied shortly, obviously not pleased with the task.
"Ummm…why?"
Zexion gave him a blank look. "He's not doing it. You don't have time to do it. And seeing it annoyed me."
"Oh. Well…thank you, then."
"It's not your laundry," Zexion said indifferently, crossing his arms.
Demyx sighed again. "Right. Where is Axel, anyway? And was it you who left the front door open?"
Zexion stood there and stared at him, his eyes flickering to the door. "It was open…?"
They stared at each other, and the longer they stood there the colder Demyx felt inside. Abruptly, the other man turned on his heel and swept away to the back of the house, the blond's eyes watching him.
Demyx hurriedly followed after him, his longer legs catching up easily. Zexion had paused in the doorway to the living room as the blond came up beside him, poking his head in to look inside.
"I left him in here," Zexion said quietly, calculating eyes taking in the empty room and focusing on the still-operating television.
"He's not anymore," Demyx concluded, squeezing by his friend once he'd verified Axel's missing presence. "Did he go upstairs, maybe?"
"You said the front door was open…?"
Demyx twisted around to stare at the back of Zexion's head. "You think he…no way. Axel hasn't left the house since I brought him here."
Zexion didn't respond, choosing instead to remain rigidly in place with his arms folded.
"Maybe something set him off. I'm going upstairs to check the rest of the house."
Zexion looked back over his shoulder at him. "I don't think that will be necessary."
The blond frowned, his hand on the staircase railing. "What? Why?"
The shorter man simply nodded at something in the living room.
Demyx huffed in annoyance and stalked back, this time pushing past Zexion to enter the room. "What?"
Zexion kept his eyes on the TV.
Demyx glanced at the brunette reporter on the screen.
"The fire started not long ago—"
"Isn't that his house…?" Zexion haltingly asked the sudden quiet of the room.
"—which has quickly grown out of control. The neighbors have already been advised to evacuate their houses—"
The blond stared, transfixed, at the burning house on the news. There was no way that was—
"—on 1308 Morning Destiny Avenue. Officials state that there doesn't appear to have been anyone inside the house when the—"
"Oh my god…" Demyx breathed as his vocal cords began restricting his airway. "He's out there, isn't he…?"
"Let's go," Zexion said sharply, grabbing Demyx's arm and hauling him to the front door before he could freak out. He snatched the blond's keys from their holder as they left. "Now."
I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain (in the pain) there is healing
In your name (in your name) I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on (I'm still holding),
I'm holdin' on (I'm still holding),
I'm holdin' on (I'm still holding)
I'm barely holdin' on to you
Naminé, Kairi, Riku, and Sora huddled quietly together in a corner of the waiting room, on the lookout for Demyx and Axel. Their self-imposed silence was broken only by the occasional sniffle from Sora who had an arm around his waist from both Riku and Kairi.
"I think I see them," Kairi spoke in a hushed voice, straightening up to see more clearly through the tinted sliding doors.
The tall figure on the other side of the glass became clearer the closer it came, red hair growing more distinct as the distance shortened. A blond, slightly shorter man ran up beside him, pulling a hand out of his pocket as he matched the redhead stride for stride.
The group shifted uncomfortably as the doors whooshed open, trading anxious looks amongst themselves. Yes, it was important that Axel knew; no, none of them wanted to actually, personally, break the news to him.
Demyx caught sight of them first, nudging the redhead and saying something that made green eyes snap over to their corner.
Sora felt his heart climb up into his throat as he watched Axel come closer, moving fast, his eyes searching for answers the brunet didn't want to give.
"Roxas, he's here?" Axel questioned immediately as he reached the group, green irises snapping from person to person, and Sora could see he was shaking slightly, fine little tremors of fear under some kind of intense internal restraint. "Naminé said he was in an accident, what—"
"Roxas got hit by an semi-truck making a left hand turn across an intersection," Riku interrupted, glancing at Demyx before returning his gaze to Axel. "The truck wasn't really speeding, but it was going too fast to stop. The light changed quickly and when the driver hit the brakes, it just wasn't enough."
Sora swallowed with difficulty as he watched the color drain from Axel's face. Demyx's eyes closed at Riku's words, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck with a pained expression.
"His car got hit by a semi?" Axel said hoarsely after several long seconds, eyes incredulous with disbelief. "A semi?"
Aquamarine eyes flitted from the redhead to his best friend beside him, and then to Kairi. She decided to come to his rescue.
"Well…yes," Kairi told him delicately, not possessing the strength nor willpower to look up at him. "It was just the cab though, not the whole trailer and everything, and the ambulance got there right away not long after his fuel tank ignited, but it pinned him between the truck and the car in the other turning lane behind him—"
"What? Fire?" Axel cut her off, staring at each of them in turn. "His car caught on fire?"
"It…it was a semi," Kairi started hesitantly, glancing helplessly at Naminé. "They—they tend to cause those kinds of things—"
Axel raked his hands through his hair with a choked, stuttering breath.
"How is Roxas now?" Demyx asked softly, his features downcast and worried.
"He was in critical condition for a while, they gave him some blood transfusions—"
"'Was'?" Axel said without missing a beat, his words sharp with panic as his eyes drilled into Kairi's. "You're using past tense?"
Silence reigned as Kairi lowered violet eyes to Demyx's shoes, squeezing a little bit closer to Roxas's twin.
"Roxas died a couple minutes ago," Sora said dully into the expectant hush, apathetically observing Axel's face go slack.
Demyx's eyes widened and it seemed all sound in the waiting room disappeared, all the other occupants instead just listening in. "What…?
The brunet sniffled a little and continued as though Demyx hadn't spoken. "He said…he said everything would be okay…and that he loved you…"
"Oh my god…" the blond said blankly, staring at Sora and attempting to process what he'd heard. "He—"
Demyx's voice halted abruptly as Axel reached out with both hands, grabbed Sora by the front of his shirt, and slammed him hard into the wall.
"Axel—"
"Don't lie to me, Sora," Axel told him calmly, the cold passivity in green eyes scaring the brunet more than anything else.
"Let go of him, Axel," Riku growled warningly as he pulled at the redhead's white-knuckled fingers. "He's not lying. Get off him."
Axel ignored him and the frightened faces of the girls, instead staring evenly at Sora.
Sora felt his breath catch in this throat, followed closely by the suffocating pressure of burning tears building behind his eyes. "Axel…" he was having trouble forcing the words out of his mouth, because uttering them would make them undeniably true, and despite how he was crying again he didn't have to believe it if he didn't want to. "Roxas is gone."
Axel snarled in unrestrained fury, shaking the brunet forcefully and shoving him back into the wall. Riku and Demyx pounced on them immediately, prying the redhead's hands off the shorter man.
"You're a liar," Axel shouted at him, his face twisted into an odd mix of rage, denial, and fear. "Roxas does NOT leave shit unfinished!"
Sora just started crying harder.
"Axel, stop it!" Kairi hissed, wrapping her arms around Sora protectively.
"Where is Roxas?" Axel demanded, twisting away from Demyx's hold. "Where is he? He wouldn't just leave!"
"What the hell is going on?" a new voice asked irritably, a blond-haired doctor weaving his way towards them through groups of patients.
"Nothing—Axel's just found out about Roxas, Seifer, he's in shock—" Demyx began hurriedly.
"Fuck that," Axel said roughly, turning all his anger on Seifer. "Where is Roxas?"
"He's here, if that's what you mean," Seifer scowled at him, not in the mood to be dealing with this kind of crap.
"I want to see him."
"You'll have to wait a few minutes—"
"No."
"—because he's being transferred to the morgue," Seifer finished bluntly, his eyes narrowing.
Axel slugged him.
Surrounding patients screamed and scrambled out of their chairs as the doctor hit the floor, one hand flying up to his now bleeding nose.
"Axel!" Demyx yelled over the noise and chaos, grabbing his friend's shirt to try and drag him away. "Stop!"
The redhead pushed him away into Riku and hauled Seifer off the tiled floor. "He's in the fucking morgue?! What the hell do you get paid for if you can't save people?!"
All the anger management, patient empathy, and job training in the world wouldn't have been enough to override Seifer's original temperament at that moment as he glowered up at Axel through the blood running down his face. "I'm not a fucking miracle worker, douchebag," he growled, and returned as good as he got.
The resulting brawl took several minutes to break up, the blond doctor mainly on the defensive in an effort to preserve his job as the nurses ran over from their station and security swarmed over them.
Axel fought them every step of the way, working himself into a frenzy because Roxas wasn't dead, he hadn't been gone that long, dammit, it was all Seifer's fault, and why were they all just standing around when Roxas needed help?
"Can we get a sedative over here?" The head nurse on duty called, herding the other people in the waiting room away from the scene.
"What? Sedative?" Demyx asked shakily, striding over to talk to Paine, according to her nametag. "He doesn't need a sedative."
"He attacked a doctor," the silver-haired woman said curtly, holding out a hand for the incoming syringe. "And he's a danger to everyone present."
"He's grieving," he returned angrily, his blue-green eyes flashing as he snatched her hand away from her arriving subordinate. "He just needs some time—"
"He'll be lucky if Doctor Almasy doesn't press charges," she snapped back, her lips thinning while she glared at him.
"Got him," a bright voice chirped from behind them, and Demyx looked to see a short dark-haired, brown-eyed nurse twirling an empty syringe.
"Thank you, Yuffie," Paine said as Yuffie saluted in response. "Can you move him to one of the exam rooms? Let him sleep it off. And you—" she turned sharp eyes back to Axel's friend. "Leave Red here to us, for now. You'd be better off trying to work some damage control with the doctor." She jerked her head in Seifer's direction before leaving to supervise Yuffie in moving Axel's subdued form.
Ten minutes later, Demyx and Sora had convinced a belligerent Seifer not to file charges, Hayner and Pence arrived in frantic response to one of Olette's phone calls, and the waiting room was back in some semblance of order.
Sora and Riku sat quietly in Axel's room as the girls explained the situation to Roxas's friends, the brunet not even making an effort to stop his tears. He sniffed, rubbing his nose with his sleeve and watching the redhead sleep.
His face didn't seem to be peaceful, Sora mused with bleak detachment. It was just…blank. No pain, no relaxation, just nothing.
And sometimes, Sora thought, that was all you could ever ask for.
I'm holdin' on (I'm still holding),
I'm holdin' on (I'm still holding),
I'm holdin' on (I'm still holding),
I'm barely holdin' on to you
Not that much time had passed, but it was already getting pretty dark.
He could feel Roxas pulling at him; there were no words, but he was definitely there.
The house fire lit up the horizon like the beacon he was looking for—Roxas had always been light, sometimes dim, sometimes blinding. Axel smiled faintly, his facial muscles protesting the movement.
It was their house.
He'd known this already, of course, the news had said that. But Roxas was there now, and he had to go back, because now it was home again, and it couldn't be home unless both of them were there, and he might never get this chance again.
Axel passed by quite a few news vans parked along the street, focused solely on the haloed house before him. No one paid him any mind, assuming he was another nosy neighbor trying to see the progress the firefighters were failing to make.
He crossed onto the sidewalk in front of the house, walking by the hedges Roxas had planted three years ago.
What, you just want a yard of dirt and grass, Axel?
Moving around fascinated bystanders and various news reporters talking to their crews, he stepped over the wildly untrimmed plants, tilting his head back to stare at what was left of the house's external framework.
I don't like white. It's boring. What about blue paint?
Sure, Roxas.
The grass was overgrown and spotted with weeds, catching at the fabric of his ratty, faded pants like insistent fingers.
I thought you were going to cut the grass today?
I am…eventually.
Well go do it!
Rox…
Now!
Heat hit him like a tangible wall, spiking his body temperature by several degrees as he approached the front steps to the porch, the entire situation incredibly dreamlike.
Do you think we should fix the porch?
Uhhh…no. Why?
The stairs are getting old.
So?
Well…Sora tripped on them the last time he was here.
Roxas…I think that has more to do with Sora than with our stairs.
Axel!
There was a screech of tires on the pavement behind him, car doors opening and slamming shut.
"Whoa, slow down. Back up; this area isn't safe," a deep voice said commandingly.
"We're here for—"
"Axel!" a familiar voice yelled, the name carrying clearly across the lawn. "Axel!"
The redhead turned slightly to look at Demyx over his shoulder, and suddenly all eyes seemed to be on him. The news crews raced to set up their shots. The fireman blocking Zexion and Demyx stared at him.
"Axel…" Demyx said brokenly, his eyes desperate and pleading. "Please, please come back here."
"Hey!" The fireman pointed at one of his comrades and then at the redhead. "Get him out of there!"
Axel smiled gently at his friend, his hand reaching for the doorknob. "It's okay, Dem," he said calmly. "Roxas is here."
Heated metal scalded the skin of his palm and fingers as he twisted the knob and opened the door, releasing a strong gust of hot air and the roar of the flames. Loud cries and shouts rose up behind him, but he wasn't here for them, he was here because this was where Roxas was. Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him.
Hey, you're back. Welcome home, Ax.
Fire ate steadily at the walls, leaving gaping holes that rapidly expanded to reveal the skeleton of the house. Flames engulfed the floor, leaving only small patches of untouched carpet that quickly disappeared. The smothering warmth at once singed and raised the hair on his arms and the back of his neck, his body immediately generating sweat in an effort to reduce its climbing internal temperature.
He started across the floor towards the back of the house where the kitchen was located. The kitchen had been Roxas's favorite room.
Why?
Just cuz. It's away from the street, I like the windows…and I can watch the sun set. It just seems prettier here.
Fiery tendrils crept up his pants legs, leapt onto his shirt, his shoes resisting the heat only for mere seconds. The kitchen was ablaze, a shimmering film of heat and smoke hanging in the air as the table and chairs in the middle of the room slowly disintegrated.
Roxas was standing by the counter, gazing out the window. The image was indistinct and see-through, but it was definitely his blue-eyed blond.
"Roxas?"
The blond spun around, looking at him with surprised eyes. Axel?
"I could feel you…so I had to come home."
Something out front crashed, probably part of the second story smashing into the living room. The crackling of the flames was almost deafening to the point of creating a vacuum of silence.
Roxas smiled sadly at him, rolling colorless eyes tinted orange by the light of the fire. You shouldn't be here, Axel.
"I should be wherever you are, Rox. Or at least not far."
…You know I'm not here. I'm 'here' because you want me to be.
Axel shrugged as fire raced up his shirt and down his arms, watched with disinterest as it burned into his hands. "I can pretend, right?"
I guess…
The redhead took a couple steps forward through the fire and smoke towards Roxas, disregarding how the cloth of his clothes was withering away, his skin raw and pink and aflame. It didn't matter if he couldn't feel it. He pulled Roxas towards him into a hug, resting his chin on his hair, and even if the blond didn't look solid, he certainly felt like it.
"I'm sorry Roxas," he said quietly, watching the large kitchen windows explode outward from the heat, spewing glass everywhere, the influx of oxygen fueling the fire to skyrocket up to the ceiling. "I didn't mean to fight with you that day. If I had known, I wouldn't have—"
Yes you would have, Roxas interrupted, talking into Axel's chest. You still would have done it. Habits are hard to break.
"Yes, well…I wouldn't have been such an asshole about it."
Maybe.
"No," Axel said firmly, tightening his grip. "I wouldn't have. Not if I had known it would cost me you."
Neither of them said anything as the ceiling crumbled into pieces, raining down burnt, ashy drywall and wooden splinters, the entire room decorated in oranges, reds, and a grayish-brown haze hanging around their heads.
You should go. Before the roof caves in.
"Roxas, I'm already a dead man. I'm just tired of being alone."
You weren't alone, Axel.
Axel glanced down at Roxas, who was looking up at him with solemn eyes. "That's easy to say, Roxas…not so easy to feel."
Roxas's gaze darted away as the table and chairs next to them slowly collapsed in a heap. Then…then I guess you'll have to stay here.
"Looks that way, doesn't it…?"
At least it's home.
"Yeah…" Axel agreed contentedly, closing his eyes amidst the fire and smoke and falling debris. "It's home."
And as the house fell apart around them, and the firefighters tried and failed to find a way inside, the only thing that mattered was that one man had found what he'd needed most after losing what he lived for, in exchange for the destruction of a life already long forsaken.
Closure.
X-x-X-x
Author's Note: Please review. It's quite frustrating to put so much work into a fic and not get any feedback, good or bad. And I like hearing from you guys. I'm so sorry Demyx. You're going to need lots of therapy after this. I'll try to make it up to you somehow.