Another Side

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Kingdom Hearts nor am I making any money by writing this.

.o.O.o.

Demyx stopped and stared at the small black-clad figure slumped against the wall in the Hall of Empty Memories. He blinked to make sure he wasn't seeing things and when the figure didn't vanish, he cautiously moved closer to have a look. He could barely believe his eyes as he came closer and saw the unmistakable fringe of silver-grey hair that belonged to one of the Organization's most reclusive Nobodies. They rarely saw Zexion, even at mealtimes; he usually ate on his own schedule, according to Axel, and while it was frowned upon, it certainly wasn't mandatory for all of them to eat together. Most of them did, because they couldn't cope with the solitude for very long. Perhaps it stemmed from their time at humans, but whatever the reason, the Nobodies tended to flock to each other instead of remaining solitary. Of course, Zexion was the one exception to the rule. He remained almost completely solitary, only appearing briefly on occasion, mostly at night, and always by chance. And yet he always seemed to be there when he was needed.

Demyx squatted next to Zexion and peered at him. He appeared to be fast asleep, an empty bottle of tequila clutched in his left hand. That was another surprise; Zexion was not known to drink despite being allowed and even encouraged to, drinking age be dammed. Yet here he was, empty tequila bottle in hand. As Demyx watched him sleep, he was struck by how young Zexion looked.

He is young, Demyx reminded himself silently.

He didn't know exactly how old Zexion was; his age was never brought up even though his birthday was reluctantly celebrated in February. Demyx knew from bits and pieces of information gleaned from the Founding Members that he was somewhere between the ages of fifteen and twenty. Personally, Demyx thought he looked fifteen, but it was more likely he was around seventeen or eighteen.

He looked peaceful, which was strange for Zexion; he never let his guard down, not even around Lexaeus. Demyx stared at him for a few moments before cautiously reaching over and putting a hand on Zexion's shoulder. It was like playing with fire, invading Zexion's personal space like this, but Demyx didn't really have a choice; Zexion couldn't really stay here. Demyx wouldn't ever dream of doing it, but there were certain members of the Organization who would take incriminating photographs and blackmail him if they saw him like this. If Zexion got mad at him, so be it.

"Oy, Zexion," Demyx said, giving Zexion a gentle shake. "Zexion! Wake up, Zexion!" Zexion didn't stir. "Zexion! Zexion!" Zexion still didn't stir. "Zexion, wake up! Please!"

No matter how hard Demyx shook him, Zexion would not wake up. Breathing heavily, Demyx got to his feet. He created a portal to Vexen's office and stepped through. The office was empty, but Demyx knew from experience that Vexen wasn't far.

"Vexen!" he shouted as loud as he possibly could. "Vexen, come quick!"

A few moments passed and then Vexen burst into the office at a run. "What? What is it? What's wrong?" he asked urgently.

"It's Zexion," Demyx said breathlessly. "I found him passed out in the Hall of Empty Melodies. I think there's something seriously wrong with him. I tried to wake him up, but he wouldn't wake no matter how much I shook him."

"Take me to him," Vexen commanded. "Now."

Demyx created another portal back to the Hall of Empty Melodies. Zexion was in the exact same position as when Demyx had left him. Vexen brushed past Demyx and hurried to Zexion's side.

"Zexion?" he said softly. He glanced at the empty tequila bottle in Zexion's hand and then turned back to Demyx. "Do you know how much of this he drank? Do you know if he drank the entire bottle?"

"I don't know," Demyx said.

Vexen sighed and shook his head. To Demyx's astonishment, he got to his feet and then bent over and scooped Zexion into his arms with relative ease, muttering under his breath, "I swear you're going to be the death of me, child." Then, he turned to Demyx. "Come with me," he said, all business. "I need your help. Everyone else is out on missions and I cannot take care of him by myself."

Demyx stared at Vexen; he never dreamed the scientist would be asking for his help. He also had to be desperate if he was asking Demyx, of all Nobodies, for help.

"Will you help me?" Vexen asked, forcing Demyx out of his thoughts.

"Yes," he said loudly. "I'll help"

"Good. Follow me." Vexen opened a portal and stepped through. Demyx hesitated for a moment and then followed. He found himself in a long, narrow hallway with walls made out of stone and lined with torches. He could only be in one place; the basement.

"Come along, Demyx," Vexen called over his shoulder.

Demyx quickened his pace to catch up. How Vexen could walk so fast while carrying an unconscious Zexion in his arms with a complete mystery to Demyx. The flickering torches reflected off the rough-hewn stones, making the hallway feel like one in a medieval castle rather than the modern Castle That Never Was.

Vexen stepped outside a large metallic door and gestured Demyx forward with his head. When Demyx didn't move, he snapped, "I can't open the door with Zexion in my arms, you fool!"

"Right. Sorry," Demyx muttered, hurrying forward.

He pulled the heavy metal door open and waited for Vexen to go through before following. It was somewhat like stepping through a time machine. The room Demyx found himself in was modern, fluorescent lights reflecting off the spotless white tile floors below, creating a glare that hurt Demyx's eyes. It was rather like looking at the sun. The room was filled with the most modern medical equipment available, gleaming brightly in the artificial light.

"Go through the door on the other side of the room and put on a gown from one of the drawers. You should be able to find everything without a problem. Wash your hands the best you can and then put on a pair of rubble gloves. Then come back out here for further instruction and hurry," Vexen instructed briskly.

"Okay," Demyx said.

He crossed the room and went through the door Vexen indicated. He found himself in a smaller, darker, windowless room. One wall had a long counter with cabinets above and below. The opposite wall boasted rows and rows of sinks stretching all the way across with even more cabinets above them.

Demyx walked first to the counter and peered at the cabinets. He nearly laughed out loud; all the cabinets were neatly labeled. He found the cabinet labeled "Trauma Gowns" and opened it. Inside, he found a neat stack of pale yellow trauma gowns. He pulled one out and put it on, fumbling for a good couple minutes to get the straps in the back tied. Then, he washed his hands thoroughly and put on a pair of rubber gloves.

When he went back out into main room, Vexen had Zexion on the metal table and hovered anxiously (well, as anxiously as a Nobody could) over him. Demyx cleared his throat to get Vexen's attention.

"Ah. Good," Vexen said, turning around. "Come over here."

Obediently, Demyx walked over, keeping his eyes fixed on Vexen.

"I need you to stay here and watch Zexion," Vexen said..

Demyx felt his mouth run dry. "You…you're leaving?"

"Only for a few minutes," Vexen said. "I need to put on a gown and gloves and get a few items and I don't want to leave Zexion alone. I need you to stay here and keep an eye on him in case he vomits."

"Oh god," Demyx muttered.

"Relax," Vexen said, rolling his eyes. "Chances are it won't happen, but you need to be prepared if he does."

"Okay," Demyx said nervously.

"If he does vomit, roll him onto his side to make sure he doesn't choke," Vexen says.

"Oh ew," Demyx said, wincing.

Vexen rolled his eyes again. "Make sure you keep him on his side and make sure he keeps breathing. I'll only be in the next room so don't be afraid to call for help."

"Okay. Got it," Demyx said.

He watched Vexen until he had disappeared into the other room and then reluctantly turned back to Zexion, trying his hardest not to wince. Zexion looked even worse underneath the glare of the fluorescent lights. His skin was so pale it nearly looked translucent and his lips were pressed together into a thin frown. Demyx was again struck by how young Zexion looked, especially now that he was beneath the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights. He was also struck by how thin and small his features were.

Demyx jumped back when Zexion suddenly vomited, moaning, "Oh no!"

He remembered Vexen's words and hurried forward to roll Zexion onto his side. The smell was enough to make his eyes water from a distance and as he got closer, it made him gag. He swallowed the bile and forced himself to walk forward.

Rolling Zexion onto his side and keeping him there was a surprisingly difficult task during which time he vomited again. Demyx wasn't able to get out of the way in time and got vomit all over the front of his gown and his boots. Demyx's stomach churned unpleasantly and he wanted to cry. He wasn't cut out for this sort of thing.

It seemed like an eternity before Vexen finally came out, his arms laden down with medical supplies. He saw Demyx holding Zexion on his side and hurried over, putting the supplies on top of a nearby cart.

"He vomited?" he asked quietly, coming to Demyx's side.

"Twice," Demyx said.

"You?" Vexen asked.

"No" Demyx shook his head. "Kind of want to, though."

"Don't," Vexen said. "How's his breathing?"

"I…I don't know!" Demyx said frantically. "Kind of ragged?"

Vexen rolled his eyes at him. "Hold him still while I undress him."

"What, seriously?" Demyx squeaked.

"Not all the way, imbecile," Vexen said, rolling his eyes yet again. "Just enough so I can listen to his breathing and examine him."

"Okay," Demyx said though he still blushed.

He held Zexion as still as possible while Vexen unzipped Zexion's Organization coat, revealing a white button-up shirt and black pants underneath. Demyx realized as Vexen unbuttoned the shirt that he was seeing what few Nobodies saw; what Zexion wore underneath his Organization coat.

What members wore was up to them as long as they wore the coat, boots, and gloves that had been provided for them when they joined. Members were rarely seen without their coats unless they were fairly close to one another. Demyx had no idea how most of the Organization dressed because he wasn't really close to any of them. The Founding Members, as the first six were called, usually kept to themselves or interacted solely with each other and rarely with the rest of the Organization. Saïx terrified him too much for him to try and get to know him. Axel always hung out with Roxas, their newest member, and Demyx didn't want to mess up whatever they had going on. Plus, he found Axel too rowdy for his taste. He wasn't a fan of Luxord much either; the man was all about gambling, drinking, and women, and Demyx liked none of those things. Marluxia creeped him out so he tried to avoid the pink-haired Nobody at all costs. And he would rather shove bamboo splinters beneath his fingernails than spend any length of time with Larxene.

"Demyx!" Vexen snapped and Demyx jumped, shaken out of his musings.

He blushed when he realized that Zexion wore nothing more than his pants and boots now, his shirt and Organization coat discarded by Vexen. He had never seen Zexion so intimately before. In fact, he was sure few Nobodies had seen Zexion the way Demyx saw him now, so bare, so exposed.

"Demyx!" Vexen barked again. "Stop daydreaming!"

"Sorry," Demyx muttered.

"Keep him on his side so I can get this on him," Vexen ordered, holding a gown up.

Demyx nodded and held Zexion on his side. He was amazed at how still Zexion was. If he didn't know better, he would have thought Zexion was dead. Vexen skillfully dressed in the gown and tied it in the back, making Demyx wonder whether he had done this before. Then, Vexen listened to Zexion's breathing with a stethoscope and frowned. He didn't say anything, but put an oxygen mask over Zexion's nose and mouth.

"I think it's safe for him to be on his back for now," he said. "But we need to keep a close eye on him in case he vomits again."

"Right," Demyx muttered.

He really hoped that wouldn't happen again. As gently as he could, he rolled Zexion onto his back and watched him nervously for a few moments. Thankfully, he didn't vomit again.

"I'm going to start an IV. Try not to faint," Vexen ordered.

"No promises," Demyx muttered; he was infamous for fainting at the sight of needles.

"Don't look then," Vexen said rather nastily.

"With pleasure," Demyx said under his breath.

He gladly looked at the far wall until Vexen announced it was safe for him to look again. He caught Vexen rolling his eyes at him yet again, but decided to not say anything. He watched unobtrusively as Vexen examined Zexion. The scientist muttered occasionally under his breath, but Demyx couldn't make out what he was saying. Finally, Vexen turned back to Demyx.

"Stay with him," he ordered. "I'll be right back."

Demyx didn't dare argue. He hovered awkwardly by Zexion's side, not entirely sure what to do. Zexion continued to sleep peacefully. It seemed like an eternity before Vexen returned, pushing a stretcher that he parked next to the table.

"Help me move Zexion onto the stretcher," he said. "Be extremely careful not to rip out his IV."

It was easier said than done. Zexion was surprisingly heavy for such a small Nobody. Finally, though, they got him situated on the stretcher without ripping out his IV.

"Stand at his head and push while I pull," Vexen said.

They somehow managed to navigate the stretcher out of the room and down the hallway. Demyx silently wondered how Vexen had managed to get the unwieldy stretcher into the room on his own.

At last, they came to a small room that was set up like a hospital room. They wheeled the stretcher over to the room's only bed and somehow managed to maneuver Zexion from the stretcher to the bed without ripping out his IV, though it took a good ten minutes to do so during which time Demyx muttered some words he had inadvertently learned from Xigbar. They stood silently for a while, watching Zexion sleep.

Then, Vexen turned to Demyx and said, "You're free to go now. I can take care of Zexion from here."

"Will he be okay?" Demyx asked, never tearing his gaze away from Zexion's still form.

"He'll be fine," Vexen said. He placed a reassuring hand on Demyx's shoulder and Demyx had to resist the urge to flinch away. "Thanks to you." Demyx turned to look at him and saw that his face was grim. "If you hadn't found him when you did, he might not have survived."

"Really?" Demyx asked.

Vexen nodded. He looked like he was going to say something else, but a door slammed and Lexaeus came striding down the hallway, looking furious. Vexen's face went several shades paler than normal.

"Go," he said to Demyx as Lexaeus came closer. "I've got this."

"Are you sure?" Demyx asked. "You don't need backup?"

"I can handle him," Vexen snapped. "Now go!"

Demyx hurried off. He rounded the corner and stopped. Instead of creating a portal out of there, Demyx lurked, hoping to eavesdrop without being noticed. Fortunately, Vexen was preoccupied with Lexaeus and didn't notice Demyx peeking around the corner.

"Where is he?" Lexaeus asked.

"Now Lexaeus…" Vexen tried, but Lexaeus cut him off.

"Vexen."

Vexen flinched, but held his ground. The scary part about Lexaeus, Demyx decided, was not his size or the fact that his axe sword could easily slice someone in two, was that he never shouted, never raised his voice, never seemed to lose his temper. It was just so…eerie how calm and in control he always was. But now he seemed to be losing that control.

"Where is he?" Lexaeus asked.

"He's sleeping," Vexen said. "Please try not to wake him."

Lexaeus nodded curtly. "What happened?"

"Alcohol poisoning," Vexen said.

"That's impossible," Lexaeus said, shaking his head. "Zexion doesn't drink."

"I know," Vexen hissed through clenched teeth. "But he was drinking. Demyx found him passed out in the Hall of Empty Melodies with an empty bottle of tequila. I don't know how much he drank, bur based on the symptoms he exhibited, I'd wager the entire bottle."

A long silence followed. Then, Lexaeus said a single word that summed up everything, "Why?"

"I don't…" Vexen shook his head. "I don't know. You and I both know that this isn't like him at all. He's always been much more careful than this. Something is wrong."

"I'll talk to him," Lexaeus said.

Vexen had his back to Demyx so he couldn't see his face, but he knew Vexen was frowning. "Are you really sure that's a good idea?"

"I know him best," Lexaeus said.

"I don't know about that," Vexen said. "All of us had a hand in raising him. Perhaps I should talk to him, as his doctor."

"No, Vexen," Lexaeus said. "He trusts me, more than any of the others. He may open up to me."

Vexen sighed. "Very well. I will let you speak to him, but not now; he needs rest."

Lexaeus merely nodded. Demyx felt like he had intruded upon their private conversation long enough. Head spinning with all the information he had learned, Demyx created a portal back to his bedroom. He sank onto his bed, trying to process everything he had learned. He had known that the Founding Members had been close before they had become Nobodies, but he hadn't realized that the others had had a hand in raising Zexion. It made sense, though, given the large age gap between Zexion and the others. That made him wonder, though, what had happened to Zexion's parents. Had they died and Zexion somehow had fallen into the care of the others? How long had he been raised by them before they had lost their hearts? There was a lot he didn't know and probably would never know. He decided that it wasn't important and resolved to put it from his mind.

It wasn't until he was stripping off his clothes to take a bath before diner that he realized he still wore the trauma gown and was covered in vomit.

He forced down a wave of revulsion at this revelation and hurriedly stripped off his clothes and made a mental note to ask Axel to burn them the first chance he got, even the boots. He didn't calm down until he was sinking into his hot bath. No matter how stressed or agitated Demyx was, all that vanished when he was in the water. It didn't matter if it was a lake, a river, or even a bathtub. As long as he could submerge himself in it and it was relatively clean, the water had a calming effect on him. That was why he took baths instead of showers. The others might have mocked him for it, but he didn't really care. He would always take a bath over a shower. Baths gave him time to relax and recharge both physically and mentally.

As Demyx sat soaking in the tub, his thoughts turned once again to Zexion. He really hoped Zexion was going to be all right and that Lexaeus wasn't too hard on him. It was, after all, an accident that Zexion drank too much.

Unless it wasn't an accident.

Demyx immediately dismissed that thought as preposterous. Zexion wouldn't try to kill himself. No, it had to be an accident. People often drank to forget their problems. Was Zexion trying to forget his problems? But what kind of problems did Zexion have that made him drink an entire bottle of tequila? He'd probably never know. Zexion was like an enigma wrapped in a riddle surrounded by a brick wall with barbed wire and hidden land mines. Anything anyone knew about him was what he wanted them to know.

Sighing, Demyx got out of the tub and drained the water. He dressed in clean clothes and spent the rest of his free time before dinner styling his hair to make sure it was absolutely perfect. It was one of the few things in his life he currently had control over so he'd be dammed if it wasn't perfect.

Unsurprisingly, both Vexen and Zexion were absent from dinner. Neither of their absences were noticed; the latter never joined them anyway aside from the rare occurrence and the former was usually late coming up from his labs or didn't show up at all. Demyx was surprised, however, to see Lexaeus there; he had figured Lexaeus would have refused to leave Zexion's side in the infirmary. He didn't get a chance to inquire about it because Saïx was glaring at him, so he silently took an open seat next to Luxord.

They took turns cooking dinner and tonight was Marluxia's night to cook. He came out of the kitchen carrying a large pan of lasagna. Xigbar and Xaldin followed, carrying a bowl of steaming garlic bread and a bowl of salad respectively. They sat everything on the table and everyone dug in. Meals were usually loud and rowdy with arguments cropping up that resulted in shouting, swearing, spilled drinks and the occasional flung food. Demyx could see how Zexion wouldn't want to be a part of this. Luxord and Xigbar got into a heated debate about something-or-other that Xaldin finally tried to mediate when Xigbar started waving his fork around so violently it sent bits of lasagna flying. Axel and Roxas were arguing yet again, trying not to shout but not successfully keeping their voices lowered. Marluxia was having a whispered discussion with Larxene, whose eyes glinted maliciously. Demyx decided he'd rather not know what those two were up to now. Xemnas and Saïx sat at the head of the table ignoring everyone; they had given up trying to keep order at the table long ago. The only other one was Lexaeus, who kept to himself. Demyx glanced at him throughout dinner, wishing he could ask him how Zexion was, but not wanting to arouse suspicion. As far as he knew, none of the others knew yet that Zexion had fallen ill and was (presumably) in the infirmary. Demyx knew that Zexion wouldn't want something like that spread around, which was why he hadn't said anything to anyone.

Demyx found his chance to talk Lexaeus when the older man excused himself from the table early. He grabbed his own plate of barely-touched lasagna (not his favorite meal by far but he didn't have the balls to complain) and followed Lexaeus into the kitchen.

"Lexaeus?" he asked tentatively. Lexaeus turned around and regarded him thoughtfully. "I..I was j…just wondering if Zexion was…if he's.." Demyx knew he had no reason to be afraid of Lexaeus, but he couldn't help it; the man was just so imposing.

"He's fine," Lexaeus said in a surprisingly gentle voice. "Just worn out."

"Is he…?" Demyx asked.

Somehow, Lexaeus seemed to understand what he was asking. "He's still in the infirmary. Vexen is keeping him overnight for observation."

"I see," Demyx murmured. He contemplated this for a few moments. Then, he looked up at Lexaeus. "And you're sure he's going to be all right?"

"Yes," Lexaeus said softly. I will look after him, just as I always have."

Demyx smiled at him. "Yeah, I know."

No more was said as they cleaned off their plates and put them in the dishwasher. Then, they went their separate ways and went on with their lives as if nothing had happened.

.o.O.o.

Author's Note: Yes, I know I should be working on Naught But Ash or one of my numerous fanfictions that I've started and never finished, but this grabbed me and wouldn't let go of me until I wrote it. I was looking for a way to get myself out of my writer's block on Naught But Ash and I got sucked into writing challenge prompts from the Seventh Sanctum. The prompt was: A character becomes intoxicated, but the action goes terribly wrong. A character becomes enraged during the story. Then the story just sort of wrote itself after that. And now I'm going to write another story that explores exactly why Zexion was drinking in the first place. Sigh.

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