GaudiumB:

Resurgence

Prelude: They've Always Worked for Me

"I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone,

but they've always worked for me." –Hunter S Thompson

Time: Unknown

Beep.

. . .

Beep.

What was that?

Beep.

There it is again.

The noise sounded distant and smothered, like a voice calling underwater. I could only sense shadows as I searched for the peculiar hum; my thoughts rolled within my mind like a hung-over drunk on the sidewalk, groping for his final bottle of gin.

Why can't I see anything?

Alarm clawed me from within, scratching at first; and with each second it punctured another wound.

Beep. Beep!

The echo surfaced from my drunkard's daze. I gasped, but the air thrust itself back into my lungs with a whoosh. I hacked in revolt, feeling something within my nose. I experienced its slender finger sliding along my throat and dipping into my lungs.

Oh, God! I can't breathe!

My arms twisted in their confines of leather straps as I struggled to wretch this thing from me. Terror addicted itself to my thoughts and bleed into my pulse. Straining an arm free from its prison I jerked my hand up to my face. I gasped, but the air was pushed back by another gust.

I can't breathe! Someone, anyone! Help me!

I wrapped my limp fingers around the smooth pipe in my nose, beginning to drag this craze away from my body while it sliced my throat like a thousand thorns.

Beep! Beep! BEEP!

A final heave released me of my agony; collapsing deeper into my pillows, I wheezed. A sizzling hand clasped my trembling fingers, prying away the death-tube. I attempted to open my eyes, but they remained closed with one ton stones hanging from each eyelash. My lips parted, silent frustration seeping between them at the rawness of my throat from its torture.

A husky voice called above, "Jesus, I could hear your monitor from down…" It faded, leaving me a mystery.

Wait…monitor? Where am I?

The perplexing voice spoke again, "Can you hear me?"

Yes! I tried to say but even my mouth wouldn't function, so I just gripped the warm palm. An abrupt pressure dipped the fabric next to my leg and my bed's springs protested. Another hand checked my forehead and I yearned to scream for freedom. All too soon the sensation left me, forcing me to twist my head to see, oblivious to my closed eyes. A punishing jolt raked my spine. Yelling from the anguish, my only comfort was the clutch's returning pressure.

"Are you in pain?" It whispered.

YES!!

Beep! Beep! Beep!

I constricted all my remaining energy into my hand, willing for . It dragged away and my heart sank for hurting my comforter. A moment passed following a mild, melancholy chime when a door slid open with a clack. Someone new walked over to my bedside, and soon a sickly sweet oozed in my elbow. This molasses goop swelled through my chest and beyond. When it slugged up to my face I licked my lips for a taste.

Mmm…cinnamon!

It tingled everywhere and I giggled despite of myself. The other man chuckled under his breath and a numb corner of my lip lifted. As the laughter slipped into relief, his ease bounded me as I swam in a sea of murky amusement and rocked off further into the ocean of sleep.

"At least one of us can enjoy the drugs." Heat pressed against my temple, contrasting my dead, paralyzed body. "Do you dream of me, like I dream of you?" The silk words were crushed by his cracking voice.

A slow breath whispered inside my ear, "Aisling milis, Roxas."

. . .

Roxas?

. . .

Who's that?

My inner drunk regained his key to the wine cellar of peace and I reveled with in his stupor.

NOTE: This story will go in a slight out of order. Meaning:

Let's say it starts with Roxas in the bathroom. He leaves and goes outside to the mall, does something and comes home. Then the next chapter part has Axel waking up and going to the park to play Frisbee but on the way has to go to the mall to get a Frisbee. Both Axel and Roxas woke up at the same time, but while Roxas was in the bathroom, Axel was on his way to the park. Roxas decides to head to the mall as Axel remembers that Vexen lost his old Frisbee, so he has to go there now.

See? Although I wrote Roxas' view first (because I like order) and then Axel's POV, doesn't mean that Roxas did everything before Axel, or vice versa, but that the author has issues with cutting up parts into little segments, just because the characters are no where near each other and having the chop it up annoys her so! *Sighs* Long story short: this is why they're in parts. So, that's why I've included time at the top, to help keep the time straight.

It's just the preface. ;) This is not my normal writing style, by the by.

Sorry if it left you confused, I quite intended to do so.

Every time something new happens I start another chapter so fear not! More likely than not the next will have you going, "Ohh…cool." Or, at least, "Wtf." The latter works, too.

Oh, just an FYI, whenever I post one chapter, the next one is already written/typed, all I need to do is proof-read, so don't think I'm slacking.

P.P.S. This is the shortest chapter of the whole story.

SUPER NOTE: I know I mentioned "Jesus" in my story above, but please know that I DO NOT intentionally mean to offend ANYONE. It's just an exclaimation of shock/surprise. People shout "God" or "Jesus," who aren't even religious because they need something to express their feelings. On the flip-side I DO NOT mean to offend those who take this name in a sacred manner. If anyone finds this offensive, simply ignore or replace it with your own word of choosing in your mind.

Author's Personal Note:

Word Count: 616