Darkness Within

by kurosora1984

It's ill to loose the bands that God decreed to bind; still will we be the children of the heather and the wind. AkuRoku, Happy Halloween 2011

Author's Note: Boo! Happy Halloween, and welcome to another installment of Historical(ish) Sap! With made-up science! Overtones of Jekyll and Hyde (by Robert Louis Stevenson)! And...dubcon! XD

And this is the point (I have now reached it) where there are so many things I COULD explain that I just give up, throw the whole thing up in the air, let it land on the internet, and explain nothing! 8D Enjoy!

PS - For any of you who don't know where to find me on dA, check the link in my profile and get on board, because this is your exclusive pre-announcement that, starting tomorrow, there will be opportunities for FREE DRABBLES every day in November, 2011! BUT, it will take everyone's involvement to make it happen! I'll be explaining in a dA journal tomorrow, so you ffnet-ers have been advised! ;3

Okay, NOW enjoy. XD

---

The late afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, splashing mottled patterns of light and shadow over the country lane. Two horses bore their riders at a leisurely trot under the branches decked in a rainbow of autumn color. Few leaves, apart from the pine, still bore their summer green now, for autumn was at its very peak, and winter was close on that short season's heels, and the two young men out riding on this bright but chilly afternoon were sharing their last afternoon together before leaving their country homes behind until next summer.

Patting the neck of the jet-black stallion he rode, the leading rider murmured to the horse, then turned to his companion, who rode a white and golden creature every bit as spirited as the black. "Whatever persuaded you to name him 'Oblivion'? He has more strength and presence than all my stables put together."

The other young man smiled. "His coat is so dark, it annihilates any light which touches it. Ergo, oblivion."

Laughing at his friend's whimsical reasoning, the first young man pressed, "Then, why is that one 'Oathkeeper'? I have never heard your reason."

"This one," the youth patted the shining white neck of his horse, "I raised from a foal. He was born a runt, and sickly at that, and I promised him once that I would never let him die, and in return he must promise to best every horse in my father's stables for speed, strength, and beauty. And we have both kept our promises," the young man finished happily.

His companion shook his head, well aware that this new bit of fancy was entirely true to form for his friend. "I suppose you may name them what you wish when you raise such fine horses. Still, Roxas, I think you have borrowed your system of naming from Naminé." The mention of his three-year-old cousin made blue eyes roll in mild annoyance.

"The fact that you are too scientifically inclined to grasp the beauty of my poetic names is hardly a reason to insult me, Lord Lea."

Suppressing a grin, Lea knew his teasing had gone home. Roxas only addressed him by his title when they were in very formal company…or he was another joke away from a good, sound slap. Feigning simplicity, he scratched his head, tugging on short, windblown red hair that put the most vibrant maple tree to shame. "But oathkeeper and oblivion don't rhyme, Lord Roxas." Then, in the instant he finished speaking, he kicked his horse into a sudden gallop, dashing away down the lane before his friend could maneuver close enough to smack his arm.

The golden-haired boy was soon galloping behind him, calling out promises of future retribution, but Lord Lea just laughed and urged his steed into a faster gallop, racing toward his friend's estate, where any punishment would certainly be put on hold. The Lady of the manor was a woman of uncompromising propriety, and her son would not dare to slap a guest under her watchful eye – even a guest as familiar as Lea.

And yet, when he emerged from the tree-covered lane and crested the final hill overlooking the estate, Lea couldn't help pulling his horse up. The spirited animal slowed to a trot, then sidestepped in place restlessly for a moment before calming and standing still. The sound of slowing hoof beats approached from behind…

Whack. A playful but none-too-gentle smack struck his arm as Roxas drew Oathkeeper up alongside Oblivion and reached out to administer Lea's punishment. "That is for being your usual asinine self," he admonished with a grin.

Lea grinned back, not caring, for once, that he let Roxas get back at him so easily. It was worth it. The daylight was fading from the sky, and these were their last moments to enjoy alone together – the end of a glorious summer of hunting and fishing and riding in the country with his best friend. After tonight, they would not see each other for a short while. Lea would make the trip to London within a few short days, and Roxas and his family would follow some time later, shortly before the start of the social season. Then they would see more of each other in town during the winter, but it wouldn't be the same. There would be balls a-plenty, and those would be enjoyable as well, but town life could offer Lea nothing to rival the peaceful pleasure he found in these quiet moments with his friend, surrounded by nature.

"Ah," Roxas sighed when Lea didn't answer, "I fear I have lost the young doctor now. His formulas have taken over his thoughts. What is it this time? Are you working out an equation to describe the sunset?"

He grinned at the taunt. "Not a doctor yet," he reminded, as a matter of habit. And indeed, Lea had no need of the doctoral degree – his title assured him a comfortable enough place in the world. It was merely his hobby which led him into academic study, and yet Lea was eager, for his own private reasons, to return to his experiments…

"Well, it is hardly far-off now. Just remember, I am only letting you leave early on your faithful word that I shall not have to attend a single ball alone. No using your experiments as an excuse!" Lea rolled his eyes. Lord Roxas operated under the firm belief that he couldn't enjoy social events unless Lea was there to "rescue" him from conversations he found tedious.

"I have already sworn, you needn't fear," he repeated for what felt like the dozenth time, expecting Roxas to insist further, as usual, just to make sure Lea grasped his truly serious intent. However, for once, the young man fell silent, seeming satisfied with this, and they sat looking out over the countryside as the shadows lengthened and the evening drew closer.

And Lea's eyes drifted over the fields, the forests, the lake, the house, the stables…and further still, until his gaze found its way to his companion. Roxas sat peacefully on his beautiful horse, the fading light tinting his bright blond hair with deeper gold, his skin glowing with the first touches of sunset and the healthy color of summer…and that familiar desire – that instinctive, almost primal longing – rose up in Lea's chest again, making his throat feel constricted, his chest squeezed by some unseen hand. At once, he was fighting within himself, struggling to stamp out those thoughts, those unspoken wishes. Struggling, yet failing, even as he had been for half the summer now, ever since he first recognized the strange yearning for what it was – a dark and unwelcome intrusion into his heart. A taint, a stain upon his pure, honest friendship for Roxas.

He forced his gaze back to the scenery. I must put my theories to the test. Soon. If my research proves useful, and if the proper ingredients can be obtained from the chemist, I am certain I can concoct a cure for this…and put this darkness to rest.

Still, although driven by a touch of desperation, Lea's urgency faded in peaceful moments like these. Even though London held all his hopes for being free of this feeling, he could not help but wish that his departure might be postponed a bit…and that this moment, with Roxas, might never end.

~o~

There were advantages to making an early appearance in London. Most of the nobility lingered in the country still, and there were few social engagements to distract Lea from his research. The weather, though growing steadily colder, still offered a number of clear days, and the roads, as a consequence, were passable enough that he could make an occasional trip. Lea took advantage of the opportunity twice, traveling up to Cambridge and each time spending several days in the university library, buried in leather-bound tomes and dusty parchments from long ago, with a stack of more recent scientific publications on hand as well, for cross-referencing.

Then, when he was back in town again, with access to the private laboratory he had constructed in an annex of his London home, Lea was hours at the process of formulating various concoctions, journaling his results as he worked his way toward a cure.

October the Eighteenth, 18—,

My discovery of the writings of Dr. Duncan MacDougal on my last trip to Cambridge soundly confirmed my own theory – that the soul of a man is a physical reality. Dr. MacDougal has weighed several terminal patients and records an average loss of twenty-one grams in the moment of their death. He resolves that this is the weight of the human soul, the departure of which is the only change which occurs in that dying moment.

My research, obviously, is not concerned with weighing the soul, yet it lends support to my theory that the soul is physical. And it is this very truth which I have set myself to test, prove, and put to good use. For I believe that, if the soul is physical and solid, it logically follows that the contents of a soul are just as physical. Imagine the implications! We have always known – albeit not scientifically, but the evidence before our eyes is irrefutable – that there is both an inclination toward good and another toward evil in every man. Our men of faith have blamed our souls, the vessels of both these attributes. And rightly so, for out of the soul comes both the base and vile and the noble and good.

Yet here is where the teachers of religion have missed the mark – they assume that a soul, and consequently all that is within it, is immaterial and thus beyond the reach of a human hand. It is beyond the touch of a medical doctor to cure evils which infect the soul. Enter the priest, who merely absolves him of guilt, yet has no power to change his internal condition. Thus, mankind continues to suffer the results of his untreated illness.

False! All false, and I mean to not only prove it, but cure it once and for all! The soul is physical, the good within a man therefore must also be physical – and the same goes for the evil, the darkness which inhabits him and inclines him to do harm to himself or to others. I have this truth in my sights, guiding my experiments, and I believe that, if I can but discover the right chemical combinations, I can concoct a potion which will isolate and destroy that dark side of the soul, leaving only the good!

I can cure evil. I can banish darkness from mankind – and who better to begin with than myself? I will be rid of this dark desire I feel…I will return again to those pure, gentle feelings which once were all I knew…I can do it; I will do it! I am closer than ever to the cure!

Pages such as these were often splattered with drops of candle wax – a testament to the late hour at which they were written, usually after a long evening of work, toiling over his papers and beakers and chemical powders.

At least part of each and every day was spent in this manner, and usually many hours of each night. Thus passed October, and with the expiration of that month, Lea was forced to give up his trips to Cambridge. The weather became more and more forbidding, cold rain and ice turning dirt roads into treacherous things, a danger to carriages and a misery to riders. In town, the cobbled streets were at least still passable, and Lea occasionally rode a hansom cab through them to pay a visit to the new public library – although he soon gave up the hope of furthering his research there. The collection simply wasn't vast enough to have expanded far into his area of study.

November the Second, 18—,

Tonight, I will test the mixture I have formulated. I hesitate even now to call it "the cure," though all my formulas point in this direction, and there remains nothing left for me but to test it myself – and prove or disprove its power in my own body.

This test causes my courage to tremble – I confess it without shame, for what man would not tremble to drink a concoction that is partially a deadly poison – at least a poison to part of him? Yet I am reminded of the part of myself that this poison is designed to eliminate, and one thought upon that dreadful corner of my soul renews my courage. I will drink it, and may God have mercy on my soul – on every part of it – if this night sees the death of all that is,

Lord Lea Chesterfield

This entry, however, was not the last. It was followed by notes and further formulas in a hasty hand, and then another short entry.

November the Third, 18—,

I have corrected, I believe, the deficiencies in the formula which caused my failure last night. There was certainly an effect – I can still remember the feeling of agony, as of being torn in two, yet the process halted too soon, the pain faded before reaching deep enough, and I knew at once that the darkness in my heart still lingered, shaken but not destroyed. I have strengthened the poison of the draught, yet have been forced to add a proportionate amount of reinvigorating agent, a stimulus to salvage the rest of the body from death once the soul has been divided and the dark part killed. Tonight, I brave the test again. I do not even feel my former hesitation now – only a burning desire for success, and…for freedom from these cursed feelings.

Two pages of formulas followed this – dark with blotted ink, scratched haphazardly over the pages.

November the Fifth, 18—,

At last, I believe I have found the solution. It required extreme care to perfectly balance the poison with just enough life-giving antidote. Indeed, though I have the figures plain before my eyes, I can hardly trust my own calculations, and I fear the antidote is too weak, the poison too strong, and I dread that this slaughter of my evil nature may well spread throughout my soul and body, destroying all. I have gone over my calculations a thousand times to ease my mind, yet I think the memory of great physical pain makes it more difficult to trust in this potion. The second draught gave me even more torment than the first, yet still I could feel that it fell short of its mark. If this formula is, at last, the true cure, my elation in success is tainted, at this present moment, with my dread of how very deeply I will surely suffer this time. I have felt agony in the very marrow of my bones – yet what is deeper than the marrow? And how excruciating will that pain be?

I cannot know for sure. I confess again that I fear to carry out this experiment, yet I remind myself of all that is at stake. How can I shrink from this momentary trial, when the course of history and the fate of all mankind may be vastly – nay, unthinkably! – improved by my success? To think – no more evil! No more cruelty between brothers, no more needless wars, no more violence and deceit! Freedom – yes, true freedom for all mankind, freedom to be our better selves, to live in peace and harmony with one another…forever!

And what is more (though it is so much smaller a point, I confess it weighs the most heavily in my own mind) – my own freedom to return to innocence, and the accompanying bliss. And all these dreams, these unspeakable imaginings of darkness – all will fade from memory, inconceivable to that purified version of myself whom I will finally become.

So I drink! Enough hesitation – the glass is ready. I lift it to my lips and embrace my fate!

By the flickering candlelight, Lord Lea set down his quill, methodically blotted the page, and set aside the blotter. Emerald eyes then fixed resolutely on the glass, which indeed waited, ready at hand. The liquid within it swirled in shades of green and blue, soothing and yet venomous at the same time. Lea stood, and took up the potion. He gazed into its depths for a long moment, his face expressionless but his eyes troubled. Memories of his life slipped through his mind, one after another, until a recent image floated to the surface and filled his mind's eye – a late afternoon sun's gentle rays upon the fair, peaceful face of his dearest friend – Roxas. The moment had been so pure and right…yet his memory also recalled the feelings of that moment, and Lea's eyes squeezed shut in pain – struggling to block out that thought. Then, with sudden determination, he raised the glass and drank its contents.

The familiar pain began within moments – it started like fire on his skin, as if he had leapt into a roaring blaze and his skin was shriveling in that deadly furnace. However, it didn't stop there. The searing agony spread deeper, though his veins, like a river of lava, and into the core of his body. The fire seemed to cut like a white-hot knife into his very being, and Lea crumpled to the floor with a suppressed scream, feeling torn in half – almost a familiar feeling now, yet far worse this time.

He could feel the blazing agony reaching deeper than before, burning in places he wasn't sure he could identify, because…he didn't know what part of himself was hurting anymore. It was everywhere. And in the moment when he knew that absolutely every fragment of his existence was permeated by the pain from the poison…the world vanished as blackness slammed down over Lea.

~o~

A trembling hand grasped the rough-hewn edge of the wooden laboratory table, clutching a moment before pulling the unsteady figure to his feet. The young man leaned heavily on the table for a moment, then one hand lifted to tear fitfully at the collar and tie around his neck. The fabric seemed inexplicably tighter – and indeed, the clothing that moments ago had been perfectly tailored to fit the young Lord was suddenly strangling the figure who stood in his place. Seams strained and nearly burst as the man struggled out of his waistcoat, gasping for breath when the constraining garment was dropped to the floor.

Then, a pause. A moment of calm as the man seemed to collect himself…then to look about. Vivid green eyes took in his surroundings with visible recognition, yet there was a strangeness in his gaze, as if he looked upon a scene from long ago, one barely remembered. Then, at last, he turned his gaze downward, lifting his hands before his eyes and staring at them as though he had never seen them before.

A moment later, the figure had dashed across the chamber and into the next, where a looking-glass hung on the wall. He stopped before it with a jolt, staring…and slowly, an absolutely wild grin began to spread over his face.

It was Lea…and yet not Lea. Not the young Lord, who was on the slender side as far as his build, his features somewhat fair. No, this was a taller, broader, stronger-looking Lea, with sharp features and a wild fire in his normally-gentle green eyes.

"Free…" the deep voice murmured, incredulous, one hand feeling over the solid form of the other arm. "I am…free. I…he…did it. Yet…" His hands lifted to his face, tracing the altered features…and lingering, in particular, over two dark stains, one under each eye – unlike anything that had ever marred that face in the past. "Success…and failure! Failure, you fool!" The mad grin spread even further, a harsh cackle escaping as the man shoved his hands into his hair and drew them through it – longer now, much longer than before. "Try to kill me, will you? Suicidal folly! I am you, and all you've done is set me free. Free! I'm free!" He shook his head, throwing the blazing mane over his shoulders and back again. "You've set me free, and I'll never be bound by your silly decisions again. I'll never be denied my desires by you again! Try to kill me! Ha! And now – now I'm free!"

At once, without another moment of delay, the man who was once Lord Lea dashed for his bedroom. He could not find any clothing of a suitable size, so he covered over the obviously poor fit of his garments with a large black cloak – not a strange choice, either, for the November night was cold, decorating London with a thick frost. Thus attired, this man left his house in the late hours of the night and strode briskly through the city streets. His steps were firm and quick with decision, giving him the air of a man bent on his destination, and yet in fact, he had none. He wandered the cold, nearly-empty streets looking for…he knew not what.

Until the moment he found it.

A large man dressed as a common laborer approached him from the opposite direction. His steps were the slightest bit unsteady, for he had been all night at the tavern, yet he was a sturdy fellow who kept his feet under him nevertheless. And the once-Lea dearly hoped that he was the sort of drunk who would prove easily riled.

Shrouded in his cloak, he stopped before the man and accosted him with an air of perfect chivalry. "I say, my good man, it is a fine evening, is it not?"

The other barely glanced at him, and only grunted in response.

"Indeed, well put, my most excellent fellow," not-Lea answered cheerfully. "You express yourself nicely for such a rotten, piss-smelling, worthless swine."

The "swine" staggered to a halt at that, and slowly turned to glare at not-Lea. "A…wot?"

"An entirely witless idiot of a swine, in fact. I imagine your bitch of a mother has never been sure where she got such a bastard son. Any man in London – or even any horse, I imagine – might well prove your father."

"Wot. The bloody hell. Did you just say?" The man growled threateningly.

"I called you a swine, a bastard, and an idiot, your mother a whore, and your father quite possibly a horse." Not-Lea smiled. "Shall I continue?"

His answer was a fist directed straight at his face.

Not-Lea dodged the blow, ducking low and answering the next moment with an uppercut to the man's diaphragm. The drunk grunted and choked for air, staggering a bit, but he came back on the offensive with the determination of one who can hardly feel the blows he takes, thanks to the numbing effect of much alcohol. And not-Lea dodged again, avoiding the first fist and slapping away the second, returning this time with both his own fists – which he slammed into the drunk's face.

The shattering pain across his knuckles only made not-Lea grin, and the sight of the drunk reeling back fed his bloodlust, and a moment later he was half-wild with delight, leaping on the man and pummeling him over and over. It was all the usually-powerful man could do to fend off the worst of the attack – for a while.

When the laborer had fallen unconscious and no longer responded to not-Lea's punches, the euphoria of violence finally started to fade. It was then that the attacker realized he'd just been seen by a distant copper, who was now blowing his whistle and running toward him. Annoyed at the intrusion, yet not wishing to be arrested, not-Lea got up with a sneer and fled, vanishing into the shadows with the aid of his dark cloak.

Stealth seemed to come as naturally to him as swimming to a fish, and he shortly found himself free of pursuit and back home. In Lea's chambers again, the tall man cast off his cloak, still laughing with delight. "That was for every time you've denied me the pleasure of striking a man who annoyed us. Your scruples have been nothing but torture to me, Lea. But now…" The words were a breath of exhaled pleasure as the man ran his hands up his own torso, "…Now I'm free. I'm…Axel. Axel is free. Poor fool," he chuckled to himself. "I'll make you regret trying to kill me."

~o~

Lea blinked his eyes and rubbed at them blearily, rising in confusion from his bed. His body ached, for he had been lying in an awkward heap, as though he had collapsed there. His eyes travelled around his room once in confusion. How…how have I come to be here, and not in the laboratory? He cast his memory back. I drank the draught…then what? The time between that moment and this was nothing but a blank. Yet he didn't struggle long to remember it, for a new thought interrupted him. The potion! Did it finally succeed? I am not dead, at least…

One simple trial was always his first in any effort to gauge success or failure. Lea let his mind recall his best friend – Roxas. His voice, his expressions, his laughter. Lea remembered that sunset moment from his last visit, and waited for the surge of yearning from that dark corner deep inside. He waited…and felt only the fond, tender feelings of friendship he had always held for Roxas.

"Is it gone?" He breathed in wonder. "Have I finally succeeded?" He searched his thoughts further, struggling to recall that forbidden desire. He could see Roxas' face in his mind's eye, yet that dark hunger didn't overwhelm him now. Indeed, he almost could not remember the feeling. I must have succeeded! Lea marveled. Then…have I merely been unconscious in the interim? He glanced to his window and found it to be daybreak. The night has passed…clearly, the death of part of my soul must have been an exhausting affair. Yet I cannot remember… Lea searched his memories again. Pain…terrible pain, and then…freedom? In the blackness, as the pain faded, I remember only the sense…of marvelous liberty. Release. Freedom.

As the impression flooded him anew, Lea felt washed in a sudden sense of relief. He relaxed, falling back upon his bed and smiling in the beautiful feeling of freedom. I shall suffer those accursed feelings no more. I am…free. Thoughts of joy at his experiment finally succeeding were secondary to this more personal triumph. This feeling is surely my confirmation. I knew it even in the moment I lost consciousness. My darkness is gone. I am free to be a good man again…free to be a good, decent friend again.

It had been months since Lea had felt peace and happiness as deep and perfect as this.

~o~

Heavy footfalls echoed through the dark, narrow streets of London. The long legs of the black-cloaked figure stretched out swiftly, heedless of icy puddles on the cobblestone. No sooner had a boot splashed a shallow pool then it was gone again, fading into the murky darkness. The streetlamps cast their glow dimly in the thick fog, struggling to shed their light on this lone figure who stalked the streets long after nearly all others had retired to bed – yet the figure moved too swiftly back into the shadows every time a weak ray of light sought to touch him.

Through the night, unobserved, his existence unknown to all but himself, Axel walked. When Lea's eyes closed in sleep, Axel's opened, and the young scientist's shadow invariably rose with his own pursuits in mind. He had no interest in Lea's ongoing research into his "cure" – his efforts to refine the draught and alleviate some of the pain were all nonsense to Axel.

Axel desired an outlet for his energies, for his nature which had been so long caged and denied. He sought ruffians with whom to fight – for the violence of a street fight thrilled him, and victory made him feel a thousand times more alive – but such encounters were not always to be found. November grew colder, the night rains icier, and fewer souls ventured forth during the hours of Axel's freedom.

When the snows of December had just begun to fall over London, softening the echoes and sealing even that great city in a blanket of silence during the smallest hours of morning, the night walker halted suddenly, his footfalls arrested by the very thing he had so often avoided – the flickering light of a streetlamp. Slowly, the shadow crept forward, seeming entranced by the tiny flame in its glass cage. It was so small…yet so full of heat. Trapped inside that cold glass…yet oh, how marvelously great it could soon become, if it were free…

It was no doubt a great irony that a creature of darkness should light up the night, but irony was not what made Axel grin with euphoric pleasure as the flames crawled over a collection of rubbish in a narrow alleyway. The sight of the fire itself fed his delight. Something so small and frail was growing before his eyes, becoming powerful, loud, and ravenous, greedily consuming everything it touched and roaring for more – fire was wonderful! Axel laughed and laughed as he picked up anything beyond the fire's reach and threw it into the blaze. And he still laughed as he fled the bright glow of his fire, vanishing back into the cold and dark of the street at the first cry of "Fire!" from somewhere nearby.

Fighting was a pleasure, but fire – fire was now a new passion within him, an element he had recognized at once as his soul's own kindred. The scent of fire, the sound, the terrible and dangerous heat – they fascinated Axel.

Wasting hours in the cold searching for a good fight was forgotten. Fire consumed all Axel's thoughts during his moments of liberty.

~o~

London was decked with holly and ivy as Christmas approached, and Londoners great and small went about their business with a brighter cheer in spite of the dark, short days – and a great excess of heavy woolen clothing bundled around themselves.

The upper crust of society was in town, finally, and the season was set to begin. Any person of high standing had already received their invitations to the balls for which their rank qualified them – and a few had received their unlikely invitations on account of "special circumstances." A rumored exceptional beauty, a fascinating character just back from exploits overseas, a rising star in the political sphere – any of these might find themselves in possession of an invitation to an event normally outside of their social circle.

Lea might see such invitations himself – next year, perhaps. When his findings were proven and published and the talk of the town…but not yet. The cure still required careful study, and he still spent many hours in his laboratory, tinkering with it. However, those hours would be shortened now that the social season was beginning – he had other obligations, for the moment, and the cure could wait. After all, his reason for working on it so urgently was now satisfied.

Doubts still lingered in his mind on that point – a vague dread that the cure would not prove complete, or permanent. Those doubts made him anxious as the season approached, particularly the last week before Roxas was due to arrive in London. It was a final test – his reunion with his friend. Would the cure prove false? Or would it hold strong in the face of his former weakness, demonstrating at last that, indeed, his soul was pure again? Lea was desperate to know for sure…and yet filled with dread as the day approached.

He knew by correspondence when Roxas would be arriving in town, and propriety dictated that he delay calling on his friend for a few days, at least. Thus, Lea had determined in his mind the day he would pay Roxas a visit and see him again – and thus was he taken completely off-guard when his butler announced a visitor – Lord Roxas had come to see him first.

Lea had barely a moment to rise from his desk by the fire – Roxas was right behind his butler, admitting himself to the study and not standing on ceremony in the slightest. The young man was all smiles as he crossed the room and took Lea's hand, shaking it soundly.

"Roxas!" He greeted his friend, baffled. "How is it you are here? By your letter I took you to be arriving…well, just today, was it not?"

"You are not mistaken," the young Lord grinned. "I have been in town barely an hour. I gave Mother the slip and left the arrangements to her and the servants."

Eyes peeling wide open, Lea gaped. "You will certainly be missed by now…" Crossing Roxas' lady mother was hardly a thing Lea would dare, himself.

"Let her miss me," Roxas tossed back. "I've had more than enough of her these past months, and not nearly enough of you." He finally released Lea's hand with a friendly slap to his arm and stepped toward an armchair, settling himself. Lea slowly followed suit. "So tell me," the visitor continued, nodding to a maid who brought tea on a tray, "how goes your research? Have you proved the grass to be blue and the sky green, yet?"

Chuckling at the taunt, Lea began to relax, and he answered with a short report on some of his academic pursuits – in layman's terms, of course, and intentionally vague on the details. Mainly he told Roxas about his Cambridge trips in October, his visits to the public library, and this or that conversation with this or that eminent professor of something-or-other. He also spoke of his few social outings, as well as gave Roxas a report of who was in town now and what the big news was. Roxas, in return, told him all the goings-on of the country over summer's end, and they sipped tea and conversed genially in the warm study for a good two hours.

And Lea spent much of the time searching his own heart obsessively. He would look at Roxas and attempt to recall that unwanted feeling – and time and again, he could only feel the age-old friendship he had long had with the young lord. By the end of the conversation, he had almost begun to doubt that there had ever been something wrong about the way he saw Roxas. If there had been, he certainly couldn't remember the feeling now. He could remember the thoughts and desires that feeling had put into his head, but without the emotion that had fed the fantasies, he could only recoil from such ideas with a vague horror at himself. To look at Roxas now – his friend, who trusted him and was at ease with him, who would defend his honor or listen to his scientific theories without complaint – and imagine that he had ever felt anything impure for him… How could I? It is…appalling! And yet, perhaps that is the way with the darkness of the soul – it is a difficult thing for purity and light to comprehend. Perhaps, someday soon, all mankind will look upon the evils in history – yes, even upon his own past – with shock and disbelief. And then, only think of the future we will create together, when all darkness is put behind us…!

"Lea!"

Green eyes blinked, focusing on Roxas again, who rolled his eyes at him. "My apologies. What were you asking, Roxas?"

"I was asking what you intend to wear to Lady Ashfield's ball next week, but obviously I should have been asking about some chemical formula if I wanted to receive any attention or answer," Roxas teased.

"My apologies," Lea repeated, and he returned his attention to the conversation. And, in fact, he finally began to relax his self-scrutiny after that. It seemed as though his worries were in vain – the darkness truly was gone, so far removed from him that he could no longer imagine it, and seeing Roxas again was not bringing it back. Everything was set right, finally. Everything was returned to the way it was before.

Only one unusual moment occurred to interrupt that feeling, and Lea did not give it much thought. As Roxas was rising to depart, the young lord hesitated as they shook hands, and he didn't turn away to leave at once. His face became thoughtful, his eyes clouded and a little strange – though it was only barely so. Had Lea known him even a little less than he did, he surely would not have noticed. Yet he saw a question in those eyes, and it concerned him for that moment.

"What is it?" He asked his friend.

Roxas frowned slightly, with a brief shake of his head, yet his eyes remained on Lea's face, studying it closely. "I don't know…no, nothing, nothing, I'm sure. I think we have been apart too long, perhaps. I felt, somehow, that you were different. As if I did not know you." He shook the idea off with a chuckle. "How ludicrous, of course."

"Of course," Lea agreed, also chuckling. Yet a momentary thought flashed into his mind – I have changed…for the better. Then he dismissed the whole idea and promptly forgot the conversation, bidding Roxas farewell with a promise that, at the proper time, he would be calling on Roxas to present his greetings to his family, and after that, of course, would come the first ball of the season. And naturally, Roxas expected his company – "To rescue me from any attacks of boredom I may face" – and Lea swore to prove a champion against boredom.

Then he spent his hours before dinner seeing to the details of his wardrobe – a task he had been putting off in favor of academic pursuits, but one which no longer seemed such a chore, now that Roxas was in town.

~o~

The moment Axel opened his eyes, a slow, wicked grin began to spread over his face. Green eyes flickered with a smoldering fire – reminiscent of the light in them when he gazed upon a roaring blaze, yet deeper. Hotter. With an intense purpose in that burn, rather than wild abandon.

"Oh precious…" He breathed into the dark chambers, barely lit by the dying blaze in the hearth, "you don't know me. Yet. But you will, very soon. Roxas." The name rolled from his lips slowly, as though Axel was testing the sound of it…and enjoying every syllable.

Yet for once, Axel did not immediately leap to take hold of his goal. On this night, he remained in bed, containing his pent-up energies. Focusing them forward, to a point in the near future, when planning and purpose would become one, and he would take hold of his greatest pleasure.

After all, this – Roxas – was the reason he existed.

~o~

Lady Ashfield's Christmas Ball was one of the premier events for the social elite of London, and traditionally marked the official beginning of the social season for anyone of a noble family. The Ashfield estate was decked from top to bottom with colorful wreaths and banners. Inside and out, all was bright, glittering light, and would continue to be so long into the night, until early morning.

Lea and Roxas naturally attended – their titles were not to be ignored at a social event such as this without inciting a great deal of scandalized talk. However, it was no inconvenience to be compelled to invite them, for both were dashing, eligible bachelors of significant means, well-mannered and interesting to converse with, and coveted for dance partners. And, though Lea and Roxas could both name several things they truly enjoyed before balls and their formality, long practice had made them more than able to tolerate the affairs. In truth, Lea was more easily bored with balls, and it often fell to Roxas to provide the excuse to escape a dull conversation – but that was largely owing to his endeavors in the scientific field, which earned him much attention from stodgy old gentlemen who fancied themselves experts on every controversial new discovery made in the last year.

At times, Roxas proved unable to extract himself from a flighty and talkative dance partner – the young Lord was always far too solicitous of others – but more often than not, it was Lea who needed his friend to interrupt and rescue him. This ball was no exception, for Lea was quite unable to disentangle himself from a very pushy would-be scientist and his opinions – until, of course, he managed to catch Roxas' eye and give him a look of desperation. The golden-haired young lord just smiled understandingly, excused himself, and made his way over.

"Lea!" He interrupted, accosting his friend as if they had not spoken in some time. "Lord Lea, I say – oh, your pardon, Lord Dilan – but Lea, see here! What is this I have been hearing lately about this mad London arsonist? What is London coming to these days? I've heard talk of nearly a dozen unexplained fires breaking out in all quarters of town. Is this true?"

Lea drew breath to answer, but Lord Dilan spoke over him gruffly, "Arsonist, humph! It was quite obvious from the start that nothing but arson could explain the affair, yet Scotland Yard has only just begun to admit the possibility! What sort of fools are running our police force should be the question! They have no leads whatsoever, to say nothing of apprehending the perpetrator. And this is the sort of nonsense we have to put up with, no thanks to that upstart, Gladstone!"

Lea shot Roxas a wry look, Roxas shot back an apologetic one, and it turned out that, on this occasion, the rescue did not go with the usual smoothness, for Lord Dilan began a diatribe on politics and both Lea and Roxas were unable to get away until the gentleman had said his fill and they had nodded until their necks were sore.

Apart from that, however, it was a bright and enjoyable evening – an excellent ball, as balls went, and made all the more pleasant for Lea by the company of his best friend.

Before Big Ben struck two, Lea and Roxas had departed the ball, exhausted but cheerful. Roxas joined Lea in his carriage for the return trip, and Lea delivered him to his house and waiting servants before setting off, with a yawning farewell, for his own home and warm bed. He made no delays about getting to bed, and it wasn't long before Lea's eyes slipped shut in deep, content slumber.

Around three in the morning, Axel awoke.

~o~

Roxas was rapidly slipping off into peaceful dreams. His room was dark; the red glow from the embers of the fire provided the only light. All was in shadow, and all was quiet. The snow-shrouded city was at peace, dreaming all around him.

When the door slowly cracked open, the tiny creak seeming loud in the silent room, Roxas was already sleeping too deeply to be roused by that faint warning.

The beauty lay dreaming as the shadow approached, footsteps soft as a cat's as he crossed the young man's bedchambers. He loosened the bundle of cords he'd brought, fingers rubbing their thin strength as he stood over the bed, gazing down at his prey. When he touched the sleeping figure for the first time – a feather-light caress across his shoulder – the pleasure that burned through Axel's veins was hotter and more exhilarating than ten thousand bonfires. The ecstasy coursing in his body and soul as he gently lifted arms and legs and wrapped them in the bindings was more than he would have felt to see all of London blazing. He secured the cords with careful knots, rolling the sleeper over with soft touches…given by hands that had begun to tremble with urgency. Last, he slipped a corner of a blanket carefully between barely-parted lips, easing them open to accept the gag, which Axel tied in place with a racing heart. His breaths came heavily, erratically as he looked down again, this time at a Roxas who was powerless to oppose him – yet still peacefully asleep. For now.

And, when at last he bent toward the bed and began to touch that slender body, slipping aside the dressing gown to expose pale flesh to his wondering eyes, Axel felt both desire and satisfaction so sharply that it robbed him of all thought.

This was the source of his life, the reason he existed, and the center of his being.

"Nothing can keep me from you now," he breathed softly. "No one can stop me anymore. I will make you mine…Roxas."

~o~

Two days later, Lea called upon Roxas again. Normally, it would perhaps have been too much to visit so frequently, but it was not for nothing that the two young men were often called "inseparable." Besides this, the social season threw them together a great deal, and if there was not a ball to attend, there was always one a day or two away, and Lea could call up the excuse of needing to "make arrangements" with Roxas for the coming event.

Thus, though he was not exactly announced, he was always far from unexpected at Roxas' home, and there was nothing unusual about Lea appearing at his door, as he did today.

The butler met him at the door and ushered him into the foyer, taking his coat. "Good afternoon, sir. Are you come to see the young master?"

"If he is not otherwise occupied, Evens, I would like that," Lea smiled.

"Oh no, sir. Although you'll pardon me, but I must make certain he is well enough to receive you."

That gave Lea pause. "Well enough, you say? Why, is Roxas sick?"

A somber nod. "Indeed so, sir. He was laid up all day yesterday with a fever and didn't rise from bed. Refused to tolerate the doctor for more than five minutes, I'll be bound, and sent him off saying he would be fine in a day or two. He do seem better today, sir, for he's up and been in the parlor all morning. Had his dinner brought to him there. He do protest he's quite well now, but he looks mighty pale, yet."

"Goodness, someone might have let me know…" Lea wondered aloud, casting his mind back to the last time he'd seen Roxas. The ball had been tiring, certainly, but nothing out of the ordinary. "Perhaps he is only over-weary from the first ball of the season."

The butler nodded. "So the Lady thinks, sir, and we hopes to see him in spirits again soon. I'll announce you, sir."

Murmuring agreement, Lea waited in the hall while Evens entered the parlor. For the half-minute he was alone, he shifted somewhat anxiously from one foot to another. It was most troubling to think of Roxas falling ill so easily – a tiring ball could hardly account for it. For some, of more frail constitutions, perhaps…but Roxas was an agile sportsman. He had been heartily active all summer in the country. He raised horses, for God's sake! He was not some pale-faced fop to lay abed for no reason.

Evens returned to admit him to the parlor, and Lea stepped forward to see Roxas in a dressing-gown, sitting by the fire. Words to express his concern were just forming on his lips when Roxas looked up with a weary smile. "Lea…"

The next moment, he froze. Roxas' face went ashen, and his expression was so stuck, so horrified that Lea froze as well, his hand in the very act of reaching for his friend to gently pat his shoulder. For one stuttered heartbeat, they remained like that – Roxas staring at him in seeming terror, Lea staring back in confusion and shock. And, in that moment, Lea was suddenly flooded by a torrent of dark and chaotic images. Horrified, he remained locked in place, staring at his friend's expression – a very mirror of his own fright.

Jerking back, away from Lea's hand, Roxas stammered, "I-I…L-Lea. I…I'm sorry I, I feel unwell. Just now…" His young friend stood abruptly, then faltered, leaning his weight against the chair. Lea, his shock momentarily overcome by concern, reached forward again to assist…but Roxas withdrew before he could touch his friend. "Th-thank you for calling, I think…I think I should be in bed, actually…"

"Is there anything I can do to…" Lea began, but Roxas interrupted.

"No indeed thank you I shall be fine. D-Do pardon me…Lea…Evens will see you out." With that, Lea was stunned to watch his friend all but flee the parlor, unsteadily hurrying to the door and vanishing without another word.

Utterly at a loss, Lea departed with no more than a word to Evens. He sat in the carriage, unable to comprehend the scene that had just transpired. London rattled by him as Lea rode home, yet he hardly noticed. As he sought to understand his friend's strange behavior, Roxas' horrified face appeared again in his mind, and the turbulent rush of dark, frightful images was back…

Darkness all around, darkness and heat, too hot…and the softness of disheveled fabric, and…skin. Skin, smooth skin under his hands…a tense body, a struggle, muffled cries, confusion…pleasure. Dark, exquisite pleasure filling his body, rising higher every moment…

Lea shuddered in horror. The images in his mind felt like memories, yet they were so utterly alien to him. They seemed to be an intrusion from outside himself – a memory of something terrible thrust into his mind by…he knew not what. And yet there was more, and he could no longer shut the memories out…

No more cries, no more thrashing struggles – but so much ecstasy he head swam with it. His body moving on its own, so fast, furiously taking…

"Oh God…" Lea whimpered, his stomach turning sickly as the act became clear to his mind. Not I…never! It cannot be…

…The body wrapped in his arms heaved for breath, the soft sounds of muffled sobs reached his ears, but the scene could not be stopped… And then the pleasure crested, the tension broke…

Lea fainted in the carriage.

…A voice, familiar and yet not, whispered in the dark as he touched the limp body, petting damp skin, "Mine now. Mine, Roxas." Cheeks under his fingertips were wet with tears… "Hush now, precious." A hand slid down the helpless body and touched a warm, sticky stain… "You enjoyed this too…"

And the darkness was sated for the first time in his restless existence, and it was a bliss like nothing else he had tasted.

~o~

December the Eighth, 18—,

Something must be wrong. I cannot believe that those – I cannot call them memories! – those thoughts had any basis in reality. It is preposterous. Yet even so, they should never have entered my mind in the first place! If the darkness in my soul was truly obliterated – as I believed, tested, and proved to myself more than once – then it should have been impossible for me to even conceive such a terrible scene. Indeed, I feel even now the horror in my soul, the utter rejection of that vile act…that…oh God, I shudder again, but what else can I name it? It was rape! Rape, and my soul rejects the thought with every atom of my being, as well it should, yet I cannot conceive of this horror's origin.

I have theorized that something like this might occur in the interim whilst my soul is pure and the world is not. I surmised that, in my contact with an outer darkness, I should feel this sense of recoil and loathing. I would therefore clearly understand this situation if, perhaps, some twisted soul had stepped forward to tell me of a dark act of sin, and from his narration I should be forced to retreat in dread this way. Yet this is the added horror which I now face – for no man brought this nightmare to me, by any means I can discern! I paid a visit to my friend (poor Roxas, I must remember to call again when he is well enough to receive me and I am better able to assist him in his convalescence from this fever), and, with no provocation whatsoever, these dark thoughts appeared in my mind! There was no external source for them, yet I cannot believe that they came from within! Again, I know the cure worked! Even now I can sense the purity of my own thoughts, the utter lack of base and evil wishes…so then where has this vision risen from?

Unless…unless perhaps the cure did not entirely annihilate the darkness? Yet it is still so totally gone from me! Perhaps…it may be that the formula… Yes, the formula was engineered to work a process within the soul – first to divide the dark from the light, then to kill it. The chemicals would isolate the dark soul-matter, seal it off from the healthy, light part, and then destroy the dark. If the formula failed in even the smallest degree, it may be that there is still a living fragment of darkness within me – yet it would no longer be knit with my own soul. It might exist, alive, but separate from the rest of me, and by some accident, might have jarred against the incorporated part, depositing some droplet of a dark dream.

Theories, theories! It is conceivable – miserable, yet with a degree of logic to it – yet it must be tested. I must return to my research with a keener eye, scrutinizing my formulas to discover if this is truly possible.

May God protect me and guide my work, granting me true and final success!

Ignoring the concern of his household staff, Lea thus threw himself back into his experiments. He spent hours buried in books, reading and re-reading his own notes, examining every step of his quest for the cure. He recalculated figures and recombined chemicals, verifying his results meticulously.

He forgot to call again on Roxas. He received a note by courier a day or so later – his friend begging his forgiveness, but he was not yet well enough to attend the ball the following day. Lea chided himself for his negligence, yet could not leave his laboratory at that moment, so he sent a hurried reply – deepest concern for Roxas' health, apologies for the brevity of his previous visit, and every wish that Roxas would rest himself and recuperate without hurry. They would talk soon. There was always the next ball.

Then he dove back into his studies with a renewed sense of urgency. I cannot let it happen again. I cannot let any trace of darkness live within me. If it were to resurrect some of my old desires…! I cannot let this darkness within me touch Roxas.

~o~

Axel laughed. He was aware of Lea's panic. In a small way, the flurry of renewed research into those formulas designed to kill him was a bit disconcerting, but he felt more than secure as long as Lea did not suspect the truth of his existence.

He did not particularly care that his memory had bled into Lea's mind. Rationally, it was better to keep his experiences to himself – Axel did understand that Lea might catch on more quickly if he began remembering many events in detail which he had no direct experience of. However, this was the first instance in many weeks, and it seemed as though even the flash of memory Lea had seen lacked sufficient detail for him to make any sense of it. Therefore, Axel disregarded the whole affair as a fluke, and returned his attention to the object which effortlessly consumed all his focus.

Roxas.

Nothing in the world made him feel the way Roxas did. No exhilarating experience could even begin to compare to how furiously alive he felt with Roxas in his arms. When Axel woke again, the first and only thought in his mind was his desperate need to touch Roxas again…to take him again.

Biding his time was difficult, yet it would have been nearly impossible to enter Roxas' home unseen before the night had grown late and the servants had all retired. When at last the house was silent, Axel needed no guidance to find his way swiftly through corridors and rooms. When Roxas' door clicked shut behind him, he felt a shiver of the most delicious anticipation. Soon…not long now…

He had Roxas' wrists bound behind his back when the young man suddenly groaned…and awoke.

"What is…ah! No, no no, you…!" Axel clamped a hand firmly over Roxas' mouth, silencing his cries. The half-restrained body began to thrash and struggle immediately. Not such a heavy sleeper tonight, are you, precious? Far from being worried by the prospect of Roxas breaking free, the fight to subdue him thrilled Axel. His blood raced with energy and desire as he pinned Roxas' body with his own, keeping one hand firmly clamped over his mouth to muffle his screams. His other hand was mostly free to tear at the clothing that stood between him and that perfect skin.

When the young man was partially exposed beneath him, Axel caressed down the front of Roxas' body – ending with a massaging press over his groin. He cupped Roxas' manhood and continued to rub while pressing his hips down, grinding his painfully hard arousal against the tensed muscles of the young man's backside. The struggling body froze with a sharp intake of breath. Axel took the calm moment as an opportunity to lean down and whisper in Roxas' ear, "Yes, precious. Again. And again, and again, over and over. You cannot hide from me; you cannot stop me. But why would you want to? I know you took pleasure from my last visit…" A thrash and a muffled cry answered him, but Axel only held his captive tighter. "Go ahead and fight me, Roxas," he grunted with a smile. "I love it. But…" Axel leaned forward and slid his tongue over a soft earlobe, up the curved shell of the ear, "…if you submit to me, I won't hurt you this time."

Roxas paused. Axel could feel the hesitation as clearly as the warm trickle of Roxas' tears running over his knuckles. "Would you like to say something, precious?" He murmured. Roxas nodded furiously. "Will you be quiet?" Another firm nod. Axel smiled and drew his hand away slightly.

A gasp for air…and then Roxas' voice in the darkness, thin and frightened and hopeless. "Who…who are you?"

The question gave him only a moment's pause. His voice was raw when he answered with honesty and passion – "Someone who needs you."

A tremor ran through the body Axel clutched close to his own. "You…can't be…L-"

"Shush." His hand slipped back into place, cutting off the name before Roxas could speak it. Then, for a moment, he waited – but Roxas made no sound, nor did he resume struggling. Axel carefully shifted, testing. Roxas' body trembled again, but no more. Can it be you wish me to be kind? Oh sweet one… The hand with which he caressed Roxas' member shifted, taking hold of the length fully and massaging the warm flesh, feeling it stiffen under his touch. Axel bit back a moan of delight. As much as it thrilled him to overpower Roxas, he ached to know the feeling of the young man's submission – the sensations of taking him while Roxas allowed it, even…accepted it. Accepted…Axel. He released Roxas' mouth again, slowly, whispering into his ear at the same time, "Don't speak. No words, Roxas…and I promise to be gentle."

Was that a small, unsteady nod? Axel couldn't be sure in the darkness, but he was sure of the stillness of the once-struggling young man. Carefully, he let his grasp slide up and down the length he held, stroking Roxas in earnest now.

The slender back arched beneath him. "Hn…" The soft sound that escaped Roxas sounded like…desire. Uncertain, yes, and fearful still…but undeniably aroused as well. It caused Axel to shudder with gut-clenching urgency…yet he reined himself in hard, swearing to keep his promise and give Roxas no pain – only pleasure.

He worshipped Roxas' skin with his lips again and again as he moved down that tense, beautiful body. His tongue found the tight ring of muscle he so longed to penetrate…and slipped inside. The soft sound of a choked sob reached his ears, but Roxas still did not fight him or cry out. Axel's fingers moved quickly to join his mouth, pressing carefully into Roxas' body, seeking out that tantalizing heat within. By degrees, the pressure around his fingers slackened. Soon, Axel was almost certain that Roxas was intentionally relaxing for him as well – his body had become so yielding, so accepting, even…eager. Every tiny, involuntary twitch drew Axel's fingers deeper, and every time he pulled back, Roxas whimpered as if in protest.

Unable to restrain his need any longer, Axel moved quickly, positioning himself with his body aligned with Roxas' – able to touch and feel every cherished inch of him. Axel didn't speak, nor did Roxas…but the smaller young man shifted slightly, his hips lifting by an almost imperceptible degree – and Axel could feel the way the motion pressed that softened opening against him. He groaned once, rendered helpless by his own desire, and pushed forward, slowly entering Roxas' body.

Jolting, Roxas spasmed – his whole body tensed at the intrusion, and his bitten-back cries began to quickly escalate as Axel penetrated him. Gently but firmly, he replaced the hand covering Roxas' mouth to help the young man stifle his voice. "Shhhhh, precious," Axel whispered into a listening ear, lips caressing and teeth nipping between words. "Hush, hush…relax. Accept me, Roxas…open yourself to me…" Axel moved to kiss that slender neck, the curve of a shoulder, tasting salty sweat on Roxas' skin. "…I will show you paradise tonight…"

The young man was truly trembling now. His whole body shivered – with fear, Axel thought. But he nodded – Axel felt the movement for certain this time – and his muscles released some of their tension. Good boy, Axel thought, letting his hands touch and caress Roxas for a few moments before he carefully drew his hips back and then forward again, penetrating Roxas with shallow, gentle thrusts.

Axel could feel every change in the body he held – though the darkness shrouded nearly everything from sight, he felt the difference between them every time Roxas relaxed another degree. He made love to Roxas slowly for several long minutes, keeping his own desire in check with strangling ferocity – he would not lose control and hurt Roxas this time. Not when the young man was willing – still frightened and hesitant, but even so…willing.

When Roxas at last moaned deeply, his body writhing once and wantonly arching into Axel, the seduction of that gesture obliterated Axel's thin but stubborn self-control. And, when the shadow felt his own desire matched by the one who was the center of his existence – when Roxas moved for him, pushing their bodies together to take Axel deeper – something shattered deep within him. A wall, perhaps – a barrier of ice he had used to seal himself off from the one who consumed him – an effort to guard his own heart while taking possession of another's. A barrier he had drawn upon to fortify his restraint during this night of passion. Yet the effort was in vain, for the slightest response from Roxas was enough to erase that wall and leave Axel's dark soul bare.

So, as his body responded to Roxas – overtaken by carnal instinct and wild with his hunger for completion – he gave his soul up. He had not intended it, and while the inferno of passion raged within him and he thrust into Roxas with his full power and speed, Axel hardly noticed it – yet as he possessed Roxas in body, it was Axel who surrendered his soul.

And Roxas twisted and gasped beneath him, his arms straining at their bindings and his body shuddering and clenching involuntarily as Axel ravished him. Strangled whispers reached him from the dark – a thin voice begging, "Please…please…!" The sound unhinged him, and as Axel began to break, he reached down to grasp Roxas' throbbing erection – and he felt the response, the pulsing release from Roxas the moment Axel touched him. Together, they climaxed, and the intensity of it drove Axel nearly to tears. Being joined to Roxas, giving everything to him and keeping back nothing for himself – it was his deepest longing, and it was granted.

For several moments after their passion subsided, they lay still, the air heavy and warm around their sweat-drenched bodies. Axel felt…light. Free. Yet not free the way he had felt on the first day of his existence – a more peaceful, deeper freedom than that. Free from his own burning emptiness, somehow – released into this glorious captivity…to Roxas. When he had strength, he lifted himself, but only to move closer to the form of his lover in the dark. He bent to unbind those now-limp arms, and as he worked, his lips could not cease from kissing Roxas, adoring his body over and over in a thousand intimate places – every kiss a gift of his love, and every one bearing his wish for even a fragment of Roxas' heart.

"Let me…" Roxas' voice reached him from the dark, a soft plea, "let me know who you are? If you truly are not him…"

Axel hushed the question before Roxas could finish it, lifting his face and pressing his lips over that mouth, shivering with delight as Roxas accepted the kiss. He lingered there for a long moment, reluctant to depart…yet knowing he must. At length, he drew away from the kiss, his fingers brushing once softly through Roxas' hair.

"Don't tell Lea," Axel whispered in the darkness…and with that, he slipped away into the night.

~o~

A week passed before Lea finally tore himself from his laboratory, chastising himself for delaying his visit to Roxas for so long. Surely his friend would have recovered by now, which meant a visit to inquire after his health was long belated, but in fact, Lea quite simply missed Roxas' company. He had not as yet perfected the cure – nor, indeed, was he even certain that the cure had failed, for since that day in Roxas' parlor, he had experienced no further attacks of hellish images, and he had been unable to find any flaw in his research. Still a lingering dread held him back for a few days – a fear that there was still some darkness within him, and that it would somehow seek to touch Roxas – yet at the end of a week, with his fears still seemingly unfounded, Lea dared to pay his friend a visit.

Evens took his coat as Lea knocked snow off his boots by the door. "Is the young master feeling better, Evens?"

"Oh yes sir, quite well a few days now, sir. Had a bit of a setback a week ago, but he been looking well enough since then. Will you join him for tea in the parlor? The Lady and Lord master be visiting Lady Blackstone this afternoon."

"Thank you, Evens, I'd be glad to have tea with him, if Roxas has no objection," Lea answered, then waited as he was announced and ushered in to the parlor, much the same as last week.

Roxas was dressed and rose at once to greet him with a welcoming smile – though Lea thought for a moment that there was some uncertainty in his expression, something withheld, but… No. I am imagining things. The next moment, Roxas was berating him mildly for staying away so long, while slipping in another apology for not having received him well on his last visit. Lea insisted there was nothing to apologize for, and made perfectly certain, "You are feeling quite well again now, I trust?"

"Oh yes," Roxas waved his concerns away. "It was nothing, as I told everyone at the time. I am quite well enough for parties and balls again. So there's an end to your opportunity to vanish into your laboratory!" A teasing wink followed this last comment, and Lea could hardly contradict Roxas' guess.

"Well," he smiled, "I am ready to put my research on hold again. I have my promises to keep, after all." And Roxas heartily agreed, and the two young men began discussing the next few society events they would need to make appearances at. This occasionally meant some considerable thought – it was not uncommon to be invited to more than one party on a given evening, and there were always social consequences to be weighed. Merely choosing the party thrown by the more esteemed personages might have seemed like the simplest answer, but it was usually not possible. Social politics were a tricky matter. A noble family was not to be slighted, even if they had fallen in material holdings – however, nor was a rich family of less ancient origins an invitation to easily decline. And of course there was the problem of connections – some families had little to recommend themselves with on the surface, but a thorough knowledge of their relatives would reveal a very powerful and influential personage. It was best to at least make an appearance in such a case, so as to be polite and make sure of a friendly acquaintanceship.

All of this made for some involved planning at times, and Lea was not particularly adept at these matters. Often, Roxas needed to remind him of some overlooked detail, and Lea had taken to keeping a notebook of names and memoranda.

Thus, as they talked on this bright winter afternoon, Lea quickly became absorbed in his notes and plans, and he failed to notice the shades of other thoughts that drifted across his friend's face. Roxas knew well enough from experience that his friend's attention was absorbed in other things, and he let his appearance of normality slip a bit as he silently examined his friend.

It was Lea. The same Lea he had known for years. Lea, his best friend. It was Lea's kind voice which he heard, his dexterous fingers which held the quill as he jotted additional notes beside names in his book. Lea's clear green eyes, his honest expressions, his…his warm, familiar scent. Sitting together by the fire, he could catch the unique scent – and it made his spine tingle. It had been familiar…that night. Yet he'd told himself he had mistaken it, misremembered something…that somehow, he'd been wrong. Nothing else felt the same! The unknown man had been a very different sort of presence from Lea. True, his voice was familiar…yet it wasn't quite the same. And the things he had done…Lea would never… But here, in the parlor, Roxas felt that shiver of recognition that had first shocked him on Lea's last visit. He hadn't known, that day, why he had suddenly felt so strongly that Lea was the man…and today, he still could not be certain, except…perhaps it was his scent. How could a stranger smell so exactly like his friend?

Yet how could he believe that Lea had done…what that man had done to him? Then again, how could he bear it…if it was not Lea?

"Do you remember the age of Lady Chatterly's daughter? Is she debuting this year?" Lea's question interrupted Roxas' thoughts, and he looked up, blinking a moment.

"Ah…yes, I think she is. We must make certain to keep that evening clear. I have an invitation to her debut ball; let me check the date."

Lea agreed as Roxas checked his collection of papers, many of them invitations, and once again he shook off a feeling of strangeness. It was his imagination. Roxas would not look at him with fearful uncertainty, as if he were an untrusted stranger. I must be projecting my own doubts upon him, Lea concluded. It was all his own paranoia – and none of it was deserved, for thus far he had experienced no reappearance of the darkness which had overwhelmed him so unexpectedly a week ago. And why should I continue to taint our time together with my worries? Lea resolved, therefore, to put the fearful thoughts out of his mind. His formulas awaited him back in his laboratory, and he would still pour hours into the problem of perfecting the cure – at the appropriate time. Until then, he would be at ease with his friend, and enjoy his company.

~o~

The following night, Axel did not bring the cords with which to bind Roxas. He suspected he would not need them – yet, if Roxas chose to struggle, Axel determined that he would be content to take his pleasure by force again. Still, he hoped…

His restless hands felt the beginnings of peace the moment they touched that fair face, barely visible in the blackness of night, and his lips pressed Roxas' passionately – Axel had meant it to be soft, but he had scarcely touched the young man's mouth with his own when he felt Roxas respond, and Axel could barely gasp before he was clasped by eager arms, locked in a wild, hungry kiss…with Roxas.

Drunk with sensation, his hands roamed freely, touching and caressing without reservation. And Roxas responded to that, as well, and Axel was pulled down onto the bed fully by two insistent hands in his hair. He moaned, throwing himself into the embrace, lost in the pleasure of being welcomed into Roxas' bed.

He didn't question, didn't hesitate. Axel couldn't bring himself to suspect Roxas' sudden loss of all hesitation and fear. When his only desire moaned wantonly in his arms, Axel was seduced in an instant. They shed their clothing hastily – their hands became their eyes in the lightless room. The feeling of Roxas touching his body aroused Axel more than he could have imagined, the taste of his lips was intoxicating, and Axel was aflame with his desperate need.

Their joining was hurried, impatience driving both to cast aside tenderness – Axel forgot caution and entered Roxas with force instead, but Roxas did not protest. Instead, he wrapped his legs around Axel's hips and drew him deeper, and his arms refused to release Axel's shoulders. Their mouths remained connected, tongues tangled in passion…until Roxas gasped, throwing his head back in abandon as his climax broke, spilling his seed over his stomach. Axel slowed to feel the tremors of his lover's pleasure, then threw new speed into his thrusts, mouthing furiously over the sensitive neck as his own desire reached its peak and broke free. He could not entirely suppress his moans as he filled Roxas – and, as he did, Axel felt the gentle touch of a hand as Roxas caressed his face.

The beauty of the gesture took his breath away.

Where passion had taken precedence before, tenderness now had its moment – in the wake of their coupling, there were many soft kisses and adoring caresses. At length, however, when Axel drew himself up to depart, he found his hand caught by the young man who still lay upon the bed, exhausted.

"Show me your face," Roxas demanded breathlessly. "I must know you. Let me see your face."

"Not yet…" Axel murmured in the dark, and tried to draw away, but Roxas kept a tight, insistent grip on his hand and forearm.

"Why? What do you fear? I have surrendered to you; I will not reject you now. You…" Roxas faltered. Swallowed. "You are him, aren't you? L-"

"Silence, precious," Axel bent down to the bed again. "Hush. You won't understand."

"I care not." Roxas was adamant. "I charge you, by the act of love we just committed – show me your face."

Love. The word, falling from Roxas' lips, enslaved Axel even further. He took up Roxas' hands and pressed his lips to those fingers. Oh, beloved, beloved… Rising, he moved a pace away to the bureau, his eyes barely able to find the paraffin lamp in the darkness and strike a light. His hands shook with dread as he turned up the wick, yet, when Roxas commanded him, Axel found he could not refuse to obey.

Slowly, by the soft glow of the lamp, he turned back toward Roxas – wide-eyed with shock and horror mixed with confusion. "Lea?" Doubt hovered in the word.

Axel shook his head. Roxas recoiled. "Not Lea? Then who…? You…you look so like him, your voice, your face – so familiar! I thought you must be…!"

"I am not Lea." Axel's eyes were downcast. How he wished Roxas would not withdraw from him, but would embrace him instead. "I call myself Axel."

"Axel…?" The young man shrank back another degree. Urgently, Axel looked up, then dropped to his knee beside Roxas' bed.

"I am not Lea, but you are not mistaken to recognize me. I am…" He hesitated, unsure how to explain. "You know of his experiments, his research?" Roxas nodded, still watching him askance. "You don't know much regarding their purpose, and I cannot truly explain all the details, yet…the brief truth is this. Lea drank a poison meant to destroy the darkness within himself – and instead, it…parted him from that darkness. Creating me." He reached for Roxas' hand, begging for understanding. "I am that darkness. We are…two halves of a whole. Only he doesn't know of my existence, and I know of his."

Distrust was dark in Roxas' face. "You are Lea's darkness? And you wish me to accept you as a lover?"

Axel bent and pressed his lips to those fingers again, refusing to let Roxas withdraw them. He did not try to withdraw when he thought me Lea… "Cannot even darkness wish for love?" His answer was silence. Axel felt pressed to make his case clearer. "I do not pretend I am good. I cannot deny there are many sins you would no doubt revile, yet I would commit without a second thought. I relish destruction and violence. I'd not hesitate to kill any man, woman, or child who stood against me, for the slightest reason. I cannot even pretend that my feelings for you are anything admirable. I only want you with a passion even I cannot describe. I want to possess you entirely; I ache every moment with the need to make you mine." He reached for Roxas' beautiful face, and this time, at least, the young man only stiffened slightly – yet did not withdraw. "I am not good. Lea is and forever will be a far better man than I. Yet it is I who worships you, for you are the center of my soul, and it is I who begs you now for your love." Axel squeezed his eyes shut, clutching Roxas' hand tightly. "Love me, Roxas…if you can. If you can look kindly on a creature of darkness…then be my light. Love me, and I'll abide by your word in all things. Though you command me to die…only love me first, and I will."

When he dared, at last, to look up into Roxas' eyes again, Axel trembled to see tears in them – tears which broke free on the next blink and trickled down his cheeks. He reached to touch them, to brush them away, and Roxas remained still and let him, but his face was tormented with sorrow. "You are…Lea's darkness. And you love me. Why, Axel…why?" He sobbed once, then reached for Axel, who helplessly let himself be enveloped in those arms. "You must know – why did he try to kill his love for me?"

Blinking, amazed, Axel inhaled deeply the sweet scent of his beloved. "I think…he believed that part of what he felt for you was wrong…and that's the part that became me."

"Of course it is wrong!" Roxas retorted. "Who will ever bless this forbidden passion? How can we ever hope for more than these trysts in the dark of night? Yet now he has left me to bear the burden of our guilt alone! Oh, why did he not speak to me instead?"

Drawing back slowly, Axel looked up into tear-filled eyes. "You love him." His voice was wondering. "You always loved him." Then Axel looked down, and grief filled his next words. "And you love him still…you don't love me."

At once, hands framed his face, lifting his gaze to Roxas' again, and Axel blinked at the sight of that determined frown. "You are a part of him, Axel. If I love Lea – and I do – then I love you as well." Roxas bent and pressed his forehead to Axel's, his eyes falling closed. "I have the same desires for you which you feel for me, remember?"

"For Lea…" he protested, yet was silenced by…Roxas' kiss.

"For you as well," he whispered against Axel's lips. And then he kissed him again.

And Axel thought no more, nor worried, nor wept for his hopeless desire. Roxas had given him love, and he gave back everything he was and trusted Roxas.

~o~

December the Twenty-first, 18—,

My progress on the cure has been irregular. Social obligations have kept me much away, and my visits with Roxas are finally becoming steady – in fact, almost daily. (How I have missed his companionship in recent months!) I formulated several test concoctions that I am certain would complete any unfinished work left by the first cure – however, I have not dared to test any of them, as I strongly believe they would, in fact, be lethal to the rest of me as well.

I confess myself to be somewhat at a loss, of late. In addition, I am now nearly convinced that the dark vision which should never have entered my mind may just as easily have been the dying flash of evil as my darkness finally perished. (It is entirely possible that the process of purification may have taken a little extra time to complete. Is it not natural for the body to undergo a process of naturally eliminating the waste and dead matter? Perhaps I expected too much to think every trace would vanish all in an instant.) I am more and more sure of this with every day which passes, as my soul remains pure in the face of a thousand daily tests, and my thoughts are all above reproach, particularly toward the one who once bore the brunt of this loathsome darkness.

I continue my studies, but in moderation, as I feel more assured that the situation is not so bleak as I originally assumed.

~o~

Axel pulled himself up over the balcony railing, dropping lightly to the surface and crouching, making certain no one from without had seen him. Then, carefully, he turned the latch on the balcony door. Upon his last visit, he had stood almost in this very spot as Roxas silently unlocked the door and removed the key, then ushered him through the opening with a whispered promise that he would not be seen this way – and, "It will be open to you henceforth."

The latch clicked. The door opened. He slipped inside, hearing the rustling as Roxas sat up in bed.

"Axel?" The whisper reached him easily in the silent room.

"Your own," he answered breathlessly, stepping forward.

He did not get far. Roxas was on his feet and met him halfway to the bed. They embraced without a word, and Axel trembled to feel the living warmth in his arms. He kissed Roxas and his passion was answered; he touched Roxas intimately and felt his desire awaken. He followed Roxas as the smaller young man led him to his bed, and they made love, luxuriating in each other, in the sensations and the joy they shared.

It was Christmas. Roxas would have a visit from Lea tomorrow, but for tonight…he belonged to Axel.

~o~

Between Christmas and the New Year, there were so many parties that even the best scheduling occasionally failed Lea and Roxas, and they were forced to send their regrets to some host or hostess, promising their attendance on the next occasion. They also began to be inundated with a considerable number of young ladies – many from previous years, and a few just recently presented at court. The young ladies themselves were hardly any trouble, for Lea and Roxas could both dance and converse easily enough, and little more was required of them during parties. The trickier business was in dealing with their respective mothers. Lea's parents – though they troubled him little at home and allowed him days on end to himself for academics – had a habit of suddenly becoming quite troublesome after certain parties, where certain young ladies had been in attendance. And Roxas' mother was a personage of considerable strength, and hard to ignore. One she had fixed upon a particular candidate, it was a delicate matter to discourage her from the idea of wedding bells.

These considerations made life difficult for Lea and Roxas, but this was not the first year they had faced the challenge. Therefore, neither of them were too upset by the various ladies they were forced to keep company with, and even when Roxas began to find his mother always insisting that he make an appearance at this or that event – and, coincidentally, finding a certain young, dark-haired, well-bred young maiden at each one, and each time ordered by his mother to "go and greet her" – it was not a matter which gave him unnecessary worry. He merely noted in his mind that apparently his mother had settled on her latest pick for him, and this would be the lady he would have to politely decline, eventually.

Lea was privy to all this, as he was in a similar situation with a particularly lovely brunette heiress – though his mother was less insistent than Roxas' – and he and Roxas were quite open with each other about such things. Lea, in fact, felt less trouble over the whole affair than usual. In past years, he remembered often worrying over Roxas' feelings for his mother's choice, and a general discomfort through most of the season, until Roxas had finally declined and freed himself from the attachment, after satisfying his mother that he had "tried." Lea had not understood the source of his unhappiness until his time with Roxas in the country this past summer, yet he now reflected that it must have been related to that dark corner of his soul all along. He was pleased to discover that this year, it was far easier for him to tolerate Roxas' temporary connection with this new young lady. When Roxas said he would again be declining, Lea felt no lingering doubt and merely accepted the statement at face value.

What was more, they were so often kept busy with the ladies – and therefore unable to talk much, even at parties where they were both in attendance the entire night – that they made an almost constant habit of seeing one another during their free hours, to compensate for the lost time elsewhere. Lea was delighted to be able to spend so much time in Roxas' company. For him, the social season had never been more pleasant.

~o~

Axel did not understand.

"I'll kill her!" He growled, clinging possessively to Roxas' nude body as they lay together after one of their couplings. "She'll not have you, that childish wench! I'll kill her for even thinking of it!"

"Axel!" Roxas was appalled, and hastened to silence such words. "How can you say that? It is not even her idea to be attached to me; and you must understand – these things mean nothing. They are a matter of routine for us. Nothing will come of it, I promise. And by all accounts it is not her idea in the first place – her mother is the one who has been much in conversation with my mother, of late. Doubtless it is their idea."

"Then I'll kill her mother," Axel continued darkly. "I'll kill her mother for scheming, I'll kill your mother for trying to sell you off…!"

"No!" Horror filled the eyes that gazed upon Axel, and he recoiled from it at once, chastened. "Axel, you will not kill anyone. I absolutely forbid you to kill. Is that understood?"

Apologetic, Axel nuzzled against the warm body of his beloved. "I won't kill, I promise. I won't kill anyone, ever, if you say so, Roxas. Please don't stop loving me…"

Roxas sighed, wrapping his arms around his lover. "Never fear, Axel. I love you. Just remember that you must not kill, please?"

"I promise, Roxas…" Axel murmured, kissing his lover's chest. Then, "…You won't love her, will you?"

A hand under his chin lifted his face to Roxas, and Axel felt pure bliss as his lips were claimed tenderly. "I cannot love her, Axel."

"Really? Are you certain? You won't even think about loving her?"

With a wry smile, Roxas shook his head, then rolled over on top of Axel, pinning him in bed and gazing down into his worried eyes kindly. "How could I possibly spare a thought for her? Loving you consumes all my attention."

Heart pounding, Axel gazed up into beautiful blue eyes, feeling Roxas' fingers tracing his features. He wanted to take Roxas again – to engrave himself in the young man's body, mind, and soul. To wipe away his fears and know beyond all doubt that Roxas was his.

His yearning must have been clear in his eyes, for Roxas smiled at him, murmuring, "Would you like to consume my attention a bit more before you go?"

Axel trembled. "Yes please, Roxas."

~o~

January the Tenth, 18—,

The most horrible thing has happened. I write this with a shaking hand, for even now the nightmare assails my memory. I cannot begin to describe the details here – suffice it to say I have dreamt a dream that should have been impossible for my mind to conceive of – much like that shocking vision from a month ago. I must now return to my research with more vigor, for this second occasion has proven to me that the cure did not succeed as I believed. Further, my darkness is still inexorably fixed upon the same object. I must protect him!

Lea closed his journal and returned to his experiments, struggling to focus and drive away the memory of the dream which had caused him to awake suddenly in a cold sweat.

Roxas. There was no doubt in his mind – in the dream, he had been able to clearly see his friend's face. He had dreamt of Roxas – and in his dream, he had been in the very act of ravishing Roxas. Lea choked on a half-sob. Every detail was burned so clearly into his mind – the heat, the sounds, the burning pleasure in his body as he thrust over and over and… Oh God, I am a monster! Oh God, God! And Roxas was the one beneath him, stripped naked and writhing as he poured his lust out in his dearest friend's body. The touch of those familiar hands seared his skin – indeed, even now he could not shake the feeling. His body still trembled, skin prickling with the ghostlike memory of those hands. So real…too real! At times he almost felt as if he were remembering, not a dream, but a very real act he had committed himself – and the thought that he might ever be capable of subjecting Roxas to his twisted desires… No. I must perfect the cure. If need be, I will scrap every formula and equation and start from the beginning again. I will cleanse myself. I will not betray Roxas.

~o~

The sudden decline in the frequency of Lea's visits caught Roxas' notice at once. He could also see, quite easily, that his friend looked unusually poor of late – dark circles had formed under his eyes, stress had made his face too pale, and he rarely lingered as long with Roxas as he had been wont to do.

"Are you poring too much over your books again, Lea?" He carefully questioned during one brief visit. "You appear tired."

Weary green eyes glanced up at him. "I apologize, Roxas…it can't be helped at the moment. I have some very time-sensitive experiments to run. I will not shirk your company, however. I will keep my word and never leave you to attend a ball alone."

Roxas frowned slightly, yet smoothed the expression away to ask, "What sort of experiments, pray tell? You have never instructed me much in your research. Can you not explain it for a scientific novice?" Can you not confide in me on this? Oh Lea…tell me why you are doing this!

But Lea shook his head. "It is a mystifying matter for anyone to comprehend. It would surely seem like pure fancy to you. When I have proof, however, I will explain everything. It is the sort of thing you must see to understand and believe."

With a sinking heart, Roxas understood – He will not tell me. Yet, he could hardly blame Lea, for it was true. Had he not seen Axel himself – looked into Lea's face and beheld another's eyes there – he would still not believe it possible.

Still, as long as Lea continued in this pursuit, Roxas could only grieve – for Lea was denying his own feelings and refusing to share his love with Roxas. He had Axel, of course, and the comforting thought that, even though Lea rejected the idea, some part of him had yet managed to find its way to Roxas' arms. Still…

"You love him," Axel sobbed against his throat that night. "You still love him more; you don't want me! You would rather have him, would cast me away in a moment to have him instead, I know it!"

Roxas held him, grieving, and could not argue. With every day, it became clearer and clearer to him that Axel was…incomplete. He desired Axel passionately, and he cherished the tenderness his lover often showered him with. He had never known the happiness of having his feelings returned, of being free to share them without restraint. With Axel, he had that freedom, and there were a thousand moments when some nuance of Axel's speech or expression would remind him of Lea, and it was sweetness itself to know that, in a strange way, he had Lea's love through Axel.

However, Axel worried him with his unbridled darkness at times. He did not loathe him for having the impulse to do violence or to act selfishly, for what man alive could ever be entirely free of those imperfections? No, he knew Lea had faults as much as any man, and he loved Axel in spite of them – yet he worried, because Axel had none of Lea's restraint. He cared nothing for the law, he never thought of others – except Roxas alone – and he had no conscience at all. Roxas felt himself forced into the position of guiding Axel's behavior, simply because if he did not command the man to do rightly, Axel would wreck havoc without a care – for Axel felt no guilt. And this, too, was a burden for Roxas. He felt all the guilt for both of them – the pain of knowing how he was betraying his parents, the cruelty of his behavior toward young ladies – letting them hope, letting his mother believe there was some chance…willingly deceiving those who had never done him ill.

There were many hardships. Roxas had known it for a long time now – since he had been forced to admit his feelings for Lea, he had been slowly coming to terms with the difficulties. However, he had not expected to bear them alone. Lea's kind, compassionate heart would have borne the guilt with him. If he had reciprocated Roxas' feelings, Lea would have understood everything. The suffering would have been a burden they shouldered together, and indeed, it would have been painful, but with Lea's help, Roxas thought he could bear it. For the sake of their love…

Axel did not understand guilt, and Lea knew nothing of this affair. It was rapidly becoming clear to Roxas that, as much as Axel thrilled him and satisfied his longings…he could not continue like this.

Axel was not complete. He would never abandon Roxas, clearly, but he did not have those qualities of Lea's which would make him a lover who could ease Roxas' pain. Roxas could not truly share life with Axel…for Axel lacked the understanding of all that life was.

Thinking on this, Roxas finally realized why this could not continue. Axel…had no heart.

It was still Lea's heart he needed – but Lea did not understand.

~o~

"Axel…I must ask something of you."

Obedient green eyes looked up from where Axel's head lay in Roxas' lap. "I will give it."

Smiling sadly, Roxas chided, "Listen to what I ask first, Axel." His lover nodded once, and Roxas inhaled deeply. "You told me that Lea drank something which divided you from him and made you into a separate being, yes?"

"Yes," Axel answered, simply.

"I see." Roxas swallowed. "Do you think you could be reunited with him?"

A blink. "I don't know. I had not thought about it…I don't see why not, if I wanted it. Why?"

Roxas gazed down at his lover, saddened to think of how his next words would hurt Axel. "I want you to become one with Lea again. If it is possible."

A brief flash of shock quickly became agony in Axel's face. He sat up, staring at Roxas. "You do love him more! Why do you wish to be rid of me? Have I done something wrong? Are you angry with me? Please, why can't I stay with you? Why won't you love me?"

Tears in his eyes, Roxas reached for him. "I have told you over and over that I love you, Axel, and I have never lied. I do love you. And you have done nothing wrong. If anything, Lea is the one who did wrong when he chose this course without speaking to me about it…"

"So I am a mistake?" Axel was inconsolable.

"No, no Axel, please…" Roxas clung to him, hating to see the pain in those beautiful eyes. "I love you, I have loved you all this time, and no matter what happens, I will never cease from loving you. Yet I know that this is best – Lea cannot continue like this, and I cannot allow him to. He must know the truth."

Axel's head bowed. "And if he accepts it this time, you will be happy."

If we can become lovers… Roxas knew what neither of them spoke. "In meeting you, perhaps he will discover what he failed to understand before."

"So you wish me to die, after all?"

Roxas could have wept. "I don't. I love you, and I wish to spend my entire life with you, together. That is why I must ask you to do this. I know you don't understand, but you will. Please trust me, Axel. You will understand everything, and you will return to me and we will be happy. Don't talk of dying."

Sad eyes gazed back at him. "I cannot help it. I trust you, and if you say it will be so, I believe you. Yet to me, life began when I was divided from him – I cannot help but see this as my death. Still," he tenderly bent and kissed Roxas once. "I promised to die for you, if only you would love me. So…I will do what you ask. Thank you for loving me, Roxas."

And those words broke Roxas' heart, and he wept and clung to his lover, and Axel grieved as well, for he felt that he would never see Roxas again – this would be his last night to touch, to kiss, and to hold his beloved. He longed to stay – he wished the night would never end! – yet though they spent the entire night in each other's arms, and though they turned deaf ears to the rest of the world and focused on each other as they made love one last time…still, dawn would come. Pale gray crept up from the edge of the horizon, the trees became black silhouettes against the faint light, and Axel was forced to rise and depart.

On the balcony he paused, turning back to Roxas one last time, and softly caressing his love's cheek. "Goodbye, Roxas."

Alone, Roxas watched the sun rise and fill the cold winter sky with color…and he wept for Axel.

~o~

Lea woke exhausted as usual and ate but a few bites of the breakfast the maid had brought. His thoughts were all turned immediately to his experiments, desperation making him single-minded. Whenever he remembered that horrible dream…

It was not a dream.

"What?" Lea blinked, startled, and looked around his laboratory. It was empty. "How strange," he mumbled. "I thought I heard a voice…perhaps it is a touch of delirium. Or I am still half-asleep…"

You are not dreaming now.

Lea froze. This time, the voice had been clearer, stronger – and most definitely inside his own head. It was his voice – and yet not his voice.

"Who are you?" he breathed in terror.

I am certainly not you, you coward.

The voice sounded malicious, then, and Lea trembled with fear. "I am not thinking these thoughts. I am not speaking, and there is no one here. How am I hearing this voice? Have I gone mad?"

Ignoring his questions, the voice said, I am Axel. Then, before Lea could even begin to wonder who "Axel" was, his mind was suddenly filled with a vivid, familiar scene – Roxas in his arms, Roxas moaning, Roxas clinging to him as his body throbbed with heat and urgent need and pleasure, so much sinful yet delicious pleasure…!

"Oh God, no! No, not again, I cannot allow…!" Fighting to block the images in his mind, Lea reached out and in desperation grasped one of the flasks on his table – one of the deadly poisons he dared not try.

No! The voice yelled in his mind, and it took Lea a moment to realize it was protesting the poison.

An idea entered his mind. "Axel…is this… Does my darkness have a name, then?" Silence greeted his question. "I see… So my darkness does not wish me to drink this? Are you afraid, monster, because you know I hold the power to kill you?" A shiver of elation ran through him now. At last, Lea thought, I have found the source! And I hold the answer! I can be rid of it forever!

The voice in his mind did not waste energy trying to argue. Lea only heard Axel once more. I will not allow it! For his happiness, I will make you accept me! This…is…for…Roxas!

Lea screamed. Darkness filled his vision, a powerful surge of some other presence flooded his mind, and his body burned from head to toe, as if he had leapt into a raging inferno…or an inferno had leapt into him. From the inside out, he felt scorched, twisted, torn, ripped in half and partially destroyed – if drinking the cure had been as painful as death, this was like two deaths at once, coupled with the trauma of…birth.

Agony, agony – Lea felt the pain, and Lea felt…someone else's pain. Lea suffered, and Axel suffered, and the suffering they shared was the first thread between them – the first strand which wove into both of their thoughts, beginning to join them again.

~o~

The latch of Roxas' balcony door turned silently that night and a tall figure slipped inside. The moon – which sparkled over a new-fallen snow on every rooftop in London – reached into the dark room a short distance, gilding the outline of the visitor as he removed his black coat, revealing long red hair that fell below his shoulders.

Roxas stirred in bed, sensed a presence – sat up. His breath caught in his throat.

"A…Axel?"

The figure stepped forward, and the moonlight touched his profile – touched a cheek which shone in the pale light…unmarked.

"He is here," the so-familiar voice answered, "and…so is Lea." Before Roxas could speak, the visitor stepped to the bureau and the paraffin lamp, which had been left lit, but turned down until it shed virtually no light. He turned it up carefully, then faced Roxas in the warm, golden glow. Wide blue eyes watched him, wanting to believe, yet still uncertain.

He knelt before the bed, as he had done once before. "We are both here, Roxas…but with only one heart, and that is not even ours, because it loves you."

A sob broke from Roxas' lips as he reached for Lea – Axel – and clasped him in his arms. "Lea! Lea, Lea…is Axel…? I mean, are you…?"

His words were swallowed by the other man's kiss – long and deep, not quite as greedy as Axel's…but not quite as reserved as Lea's might have been.

"I understand, Roxas. I do understand now, I swear it. Axel understands, in me, what you tried to tell him…and Lea understands, in me, what he put you through. I'm sorry, Roxas…I'm sorry for leaving you to suffer alone. I was a coward, and I was selfish. But now…I will not abandon you again. I will be yours – your Lea – from this day forward."

Roxas kissed him, and kissed him again…yet paused, after many kisses, needing to ask, "And…Axel?"

Lea smiled, a familiar, mischievous light in those green eyes… "Axel thinks he would like it if you continued to call him that…from time to time. Not in public, of course…but perhaps when we are alone? Surrounded by the shadows of night…like this?"

Roxas kissed him warmly again, this time while pulling his lover forward, all but dragging Lea into bed with him. "As you wish, Axel. Thank you so much…for trusting me."

"Thank you," Axel replied, in Lea's kind tones, "for loving me."

"I had to," Roxas sighed, holding his lover and feeling perfect contentment filling his heart. "I have always loved you."

"I know," Axel whispered. "I have loved you just as long. I wish I had been brave enough to admit it before this."

"It doesn't matter now," Roxas answered, shaking his head. "I am happy." Then they said no more for a time, merely holding each other, and at times, shifting to meet each other's gaze…or to kiss. There was no hesitation between them, no fear, nothing withheld – everything was understood and accepted, and when they made love, everything was familiar and precious, yet…new. Every touch felt like the first, every kiss tasted sweeter than the last, and when they came together, they came home to the one they loved, only to meet him for the first time.

As Roxas held his lover afterward, a thought struck him. "What are you going to do about your hair? Lea's wasn't this long…"

Axel smiled. "I suppose I'll need to cut it, for now." He bent to place a kiss on Roxas' nose. "But…would you like me to grow it out again, afterward?"

And Roxas smiled too, and he didn't need to explain why, because Axel understood.

"Yes."

~o~

Note to readers! Hey guys! If you read this because you're into Axel and Roxas and that's pretty much it, well...thanks! I hope you liked it! :D But if you also wonder if this Kurosora1984 lady has anything else to entertain you, and if you are even a little interested in other guys getting their sexy romance on, check out my current original story on FP! Links in my profile! Thank you, dears! :D