This is a fan-sequel of some description. It focuses on Lexaeus and Zexion, who are reformed once again, and being 'good guys' for once. There will be angst and there will be fluffy moments. (There always is.) There will also be the pitter-patter of "fan-children" in later chapters (Not M-Preg. Who wants to listen to a man complaining about that stuff? Especially those two.) So if that is not your thing, don't read. If you do read, hope you enjoy.
Characters/Pairings: Lexaeus-X-Zexion. Time Setting: Post-KHII.
Rating/Warnings: NC-17/M - Homosexual references/smut, distressing issues, violence, fan-children (most in later chapters.)
Just One More Chance.
Chapter I.
"We have No Reliable Guarantee that the afterlife will be any less exasperating than this one, have we?" - Noel Coward.
---
It's warm.
Why is it so warm?
Strong sunlight is baking his pale skin and no doubt, it is going to burn it. It always does, or - that is to say - it used to. Maybe. Well, he thinks so anyway. Even though it is hard to think at this current moment. Not just because the heat, but it is the heaviness of his skull. Like his brain is being compressed by his own bone and muscle tissue. He tries to move a limb and it's a fruitless effort. He gives up after a minute or so. He is not sure of the time, since he has no watch and no energy to lift his arm to see the watch anyway.
Where is he?
Slowly, his senses start to work again. His sensitive sense of smell first. Obviously. There is a scent of sea salt and bloomed flowers, an aroma of some sweet tropical fruit, which is so heavy that his taste buds can pick it up too. His hearing tells him that there are gulls close by, squawking and calling in echo, and there is a rush of waves. Just the steadiest of waters. Touch kicks in now. He is lying down on his back, upon warm sand. Just sand. No rocks and pebbles. This is good. It would have been very uncomfortable otherwise. There is also cool liquid lapping at his bare feet. The waves? It must be - The sound and lapping are in time with each other.
He is on a beach.
...Which beach?
There are many beaches in the universe.
Wait. Is he still in the same universe? Was he not in some no-man's land, like he thought he was going to be? What had happened? There is another sound now - Running. The sound of fast feet crunching and kicking the sand as they sprint. Towards him. The noise is getting closer. He wants to open his eyes, just to see who it is, but no. He cannot find the energy to even open his eyes.
The feet slow down, then finally stop, as they get closer, and the sound of someone panting for air comes along too. A shadow casts over his body, shielding him from the natural warmth. Which is quite welcoming. The runner - still gasping and breathing deeply - kneels down next to him, getting closer, but not too close.
"…Are you okay?"
This person (or whatever they may be) is female. A young female. In her late teens at the least. Her voice is gentle and kind. Not too loud. Soft and very shushed. Her hand carefully trails over his face, acting like he could be broken like fine china under her meek strength, pushing his long fringe out of his face. Her manicured nails touch his skin lightly, not leaving a mark or cut behind. She is being very delicate with him.
"Can you hear me?" her soothing voice asks, a little louder.
He can very well hear her. It is answering her that is the problem. He cannot move, remember? That's a bit of a letdown, and that his voice is stuck far, far down his throat and was trapped there. He would answer if he could, Miss Whoever-You-May-Be, but he cannot. Now there is more running, and more voices - Two this time, and both male.
"Kairi! Is it another one?" asks the tired, light-voiced boy.
"I guess" the girl called Kairi (why does that name sound so familiar to him?) says, sounding worried. "Who is he?"
"Zexion" grumbles the other boy; voice deeper and older that the other two. The voice is awfully familiar. No, deadly familiar. It's the most un-wanted voice to his ears. It brings back feelings. Bad feelings - Hatred, fear, defeat and the lost of control. Those are just a handful of a great deal more. He just wants to run away, to anywhere, as long as he was away from Riku. That who it is. And that Kairi; she is the Princess of Heart. Then that means the other boy is -
"Sora" Riku sighs, "we have to get the others."
"Right." He can feel Sora rest his own hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake, to gain a reaction from him. "Zexion. Show us that you're alright."
Yes, alright but how?!
He tries to open his eyes. Even just a flutter would be great. Just to prove he's alive. He groans slightly - surprising himself by how gruff his sunken voice is - then manages to open his blue eyes just a touch. Through his eyelashes, he can see the blazing sun, trying its best to blind him, and three blurred silhouettes looking down at him with curious, youthful eyes. The light hurts too much. His eyes fall shut again. As does everything else.
He falls asleep again.
------
When Zexion wakes again, the sounds and feel of Destiny Islands is gone. Now he feels soft, bleached sheets around his slim frame and the air is clean and disinfected. It smells like a hospital ward. Great. He opens his heavy eyes again. This time, they stay open.
Good Gods, it is a hospital ward!
The boy sits bolt upright, nearly giving himself whiplash in the process. He is sitting in a metal bed in a private medical room. He is dressed in the usual nightgown that you are meant to wear in a place like this. Not his leather coat and trousers he was wearing on the beach... and one more thing, what is that unnerving, thick… stuff being dripped into him via 'tube connected to the forearm?' He tries to call out, for someone to come in his chocked, rough voice.
"Hello!" He coughs a lot, falling back onto his pillows. He tries again. "Hello! …Anyone?" Well, anyone who is going to help.
The door on the other side of the room opens and then appears a ghost. A tall, ash-blond ghost with icy green eyes and a long, aged face, dressed in a white shirt, a green jumper, an open white coat and light-brown trousers. There is a pair of half-moon spectacles on his crooked nose. A clipboard lies in his hands.
"Vexen!" Zexion sits up again - another attempt of neck breaking. His eyes are wide, skin white and nerves trembling. "Vexen!"
Vexen smiles and clicks his pen, scribbling something down on his clipboard.
"Nice to see you can remember me."
"But… you died!" Zexion shrieks. "You died before me! I remember that!"
"It's not nice to rub salt in the wounds, Zexion," Vexen sighed, walking over to the bed, "but you are right. I would have thought that being set on fire would have finished me off too."
Zexion stares up at him, never taking his eyes off him. "…You died!"
"You're repeating yourself, Boy." As an act of kindness, Vexen pours Zexion a glass of water from the side table. "Take a drink, and calm yourself." The boy mumbles a 'thank you' then takes a shy sip. The old man sits next to him, sighing like all was well. "You gave us quite a scare, Zexion. You've been here for a fortnight." Zexion shivers, still in shock.
"What is going on?" he asks, his voice slowly lightening to his normal tone. "We died! We both died. You died before me. So… why are we here, having this conversation? I remember nothing but Darkness and emptiness for the longest time… then I felt warm and I was on a sandy beach. Then the Keyblade Bearers were there and… and--"
A cold hand clasps over his mouth. Vexen gives him an amused look.
"Don't talk. Listen." The man removes his fingers from Zexion's mouth. The boy keeps it shut. "Now… We are not the only ones." Zexion is shocked. Amazed. Seriously? Is this just some sick, twisted dream created to torture him? He silently pinches his leg under the bed sheets. Ouch! Damn it all. He's awake. Unless this is a very imaginative, detailed dream. Vexen continues. "I was the first to be found. It seemed like the whole bloody universe was in an uproar about my existents."
"…Then why didn't they…?" Zexion tries to find the right words. Vexen puts it bluntly.
"Exterminate me? Because of this."
From his long professional coat, Vexen pulls out a stethoscope. He places the earpieces in Zexion's lobes, and then pressed the chest piece against himself. Zexion pulls a puzzled face. Then it twists to surprise. There is a beat. A bloody beat! A heartbeat! What in hell! He pulls the stethoscope away fiercely, and then huddles up to the scientist's torso. Ear to chest. He wants to hear it himself. That ticking, steady sound that had been alien to his hearing for too long. He does not really notice that Vexen is very uncomfortable with how close they are.
Then it hits him.
Zexion sits up, backing up, placing a hand to his own flat chest. There is something thumping and jumping against his ribcage, running fast and furious. A heart?!
"We… We have…" Zexion cannot bring himself to say the word. "…Was Kingdom Hearts complete? Is that why we have hearts again?"
Vexen shacks his head. "It was far from complete, Zexion. It was destroyed."
Zexion drops his hand, then falls back again. It was destroyed. What an awful waste. All that time put into colleting hearts and world invading.
"How?"
"According to the Mouse King, dear old Master Ansem created a machine to decode Kingdom Hearts, thought it was not very stable. It undid most of our work, and he perished as a result."
"Oh." Zexion is honestly shocked. "How noble of him… and sort of foolish."
"True" Vexen nods.
"So why do we have Hearts?"
"Because we are special snowflakes and the Powers love us," the man drawls sarcastically. Zexion furrows his brow at him.
"You were never funny."
"Alright. We don't know. Nobody does. It's a mystery. It's one of the projects I'm working on at the moment. Amongst others. Since you are here now, we can have some proper brain power behind this."
"…Now, when you say 'we'" Zexion asks. Vexen pushes his glasses farther up his nose, clearing his throat.
"Everybody. The Keybearers, The faithful Radiant Garden Committee, Marluxia, Larxene and Lexaeus."
That name ripped through Zexion's new heart like a dagger. Like a thunderbolt.
Lexaeus.
No. It was not fair. How could he face him again? After everything. After what he did… No. Do not think about it. He tries to change the subject.
"Erm. What is stuff being dripped into my arm?" he asks quietly, picking at the plaster holding down the needle. Vexen stops him.
"You can't eat while you're asleep. It's just to keep your strength up."
"Oh."
They sit in silence now. For a short time but it feels like a lifetime. What does one say at a time like this? Zexion places his hand over his new heart. It's strange to have that ticking beat within him again. Haunting too. However, he does like the sound. Ta-bump, Ta-bump, Ta-bump. Just a simple beat that means a lot.
It's… cruel in a way, no? To drag some half-dead souls from their peaceful internal sleep to live again. Possibly, to face discrimination, judgment, to have people hate them for their past life. Correction - Lives. First, Zexion helped in condemning the worlds to a cesspool of Darkness and Heartless, and then he helped rip more worlds apart for hearts. Maybe this was punishment. "You've damned everyone to misery so now you have to face them all. Good luck!"
"You should stay in bed for a few days" Vexen sighs after the long silence. He stands up, taking his clipboard again. "I'll bring you some real food. We can't have you living off solution forever, right?"
"Hmm." Zexion has found the window to his left and is too business gazing out of it to see Vexen leave.
He has already worked out that he is at Radiant Garden. Although the last time he was existing, it was called Hollow Bastion. He had always thought that a name meaning 'a weak supporter' was fitting for this world. It was a ticking time bomb at moments. He was home. His real home. Ienzo's home. He had… missed this dump. It looks very different - in need of repair and a bit of spit polish. It looks like a poor man's palace. A tramp would be happy to live here. Maybe the economy was in a rut. No surprise after everything that happened. Munny would be more valuable to the average person now.
He rolls onto his front and sighs, breathing in the smell of bleach and starchiness from his pillow. His hand is still on his heart. He does not want to lose the beat. It was a small comfort in this new life.
Things were just going down to Hell.
------
The last few days have not been enjoyable. Not for Zexion.
He was weak as a newborn kitten as first, not able to do much, except stay in bed. With pure clean white that hurt his poor eyes. Then there was food. Solid food that he had not eaten for the longest of times, containing things that needed to be emptied from his insides one way or another. To put it embarrassingly (for Zexion anyway) he was getting annoyed with the sight of the porcelain toilet. Or worst, seeing the inside of the bowl when he vomited.
At least Vexen came to see him for the time, and brought him books and the morning newspaper crossword. Even when the man just came for a check-up. You know the routine - stick your tongue out, lift up your shirt, blow into the tube, turn your head, cough. It's good to just have company. It was lonely without nothing to do. Zexion would have dived into insanity (again) without it.
Vexen explained the situation one day - they work for Leon now (real name Squall. Zexion asked if he was 'Leon Leonhart' now.) They are working dutifully all day to right past wrongs by helping restoring the city. There is little else for them to do. Powers are slimed within them, and they are Organization-less. Also, now they have hearts, there is no need for Kingdom Hearts. (Happy bloody hurry! Zexion thought to himself.) With nothing to your name, you are desperate and you have no choice. So you grab an offer by the horns and take hold. Anyone would.
After ten day for suffering in boredom and stomach discomfort, Zexion is starting to feel better. He can now walk around without staggering about, and eat proper meals without them kicking him from the inside. Now the fourteenth day, he can leave his little prison cell. He is walking down one of the corridors with Vexen right now. It's strange to walk around the old castle again. After everything.
"Everyone has been asking about you, Zexion" the old man smiles at him. The boy just shrugs, looking down on the ground and his slippers. He feels like a child walking around in his new pyjamas. Vexen opens the door to the small research laboratory and stands out of the way for Zexion. He talks into the room. "Guess who's awake?"
"Zexion!"
The boy's eyes widen at the sound of a young woman's voice, happy to see him. He knows that voice. He slowly looks up, into the room. More ghosts - Marluxia and Larxene. They look different without their Organization uniforms. The man is in dark clothing still, but it's simple. Just a long-sleeved, black shirt and washout grey jeans. Larxene is more feminine then the last time - blue trousers and a billowing white t-shirt. Are they… smiling at him?
"How are you feeling?" Larxene grins, being friendly. Zexion blinks at them, shocked. Then anger sinking in. He clenches his fists and gnashes his teeth together. These two bastards are here!
"You two." The neophytes' expressions turn from happy to unwary as the man glares at him. They take a step back.
"I don't think he's forgotten about Oblivion" Marluxia mumbles. Zexion walks over to them slowly, shoulders shacking.
"You two."
"Now Zexion" Larxene says calming, raising her hands. She's trying to be nice and soothing with the ex-elder. "We apologize for everything. There is no need for--"
"You traitors!"
Zexion brakes into a run after them. The girl screams slightly as they race across the room, away from the fury that is Zexion. Vexen buries his face into the palm of his hand, groans, then tries to take control of the situation.
"Can you lot stop acting like bratty children?"
"Tell him" Marluxia cries as he ever-so-impressively jumps over a table to get away from Zexion. The boy jumps too and pounces on top of him. They crash to the floor and Zexion does not wait to start slapping and hit him. Hard.
"You gits! Why do you have to be here?!"
"Zexion - Ah! Stop it! AH! You're really - Ga! - Get him off me!"
Vexen strides over and pulls Zexion away, having a good grip on him so Marluxia can escape. Larxene had retreated behind the scientist, now looking around him curiously.
"Really Zexion" Vexen growls. "I would have thought, of all people, you would have kept some control over yourself."
"I just expressing my emotions!"
"I don't think it would have been very nice if you broke his nose again" Larxene comments. "Would it, Marluxia?"
Zexion calms down, thinking again. 'Again'? He can now see the skin-coloured plaster on the taller man's nose, which still looks quite swollen from the punch. Marluxia is pinches it lightly, making sure its not bleeding and cracked.
"I understand that I'm not everybody's favourite person at the moment" Marluxia scoffs, "but I don't like pain been inflicted onto me as much as the next man."
"I apologized, didn't I?" Vexen smirks, deeming Zexion safe as he placed him on the ground. "You two disserved a good kick from time to time." Marluxia glared at him.
"You didn't hit Larxene."
"Gentleman don't hit girls."
------
Lunch is a bizarre experience for Zexion. For one thing, Vexen and Marluxia are having a conversation that does not involved raised voices and vulgar language. Secondly, Larxene had made them all toasted cheese sandwiches. Which she had never done before. The boy nibbles at his meal with a frown, not really interested in it (though it is tasty, if not slightly burned around the edges.) He drifts in and out of the others' conversation, picking up nothing worth remembering. Marluxia notices the distance look on the boy's face.
"Are you alright, Zexion?"
The boy glances up. "Peachy."
"My sandwich is not that bad, is it?" Larxene blinks, orange juice paused at her lips. Zexion shakes his head.
"It's lovely. I'm just not that hungry."
"You need to eat, Zexion" Vexen told him.
"There's not much on you now" Marluxia sniggers. Zexion hisses and he quickly shuts his mouth. "Sorry."
"I'm just tired" Zexion sighs, leaning back on his chair.
"We were all like that, Zexion" Vexen smiles. "It will pass after awhile."
"Yeah."
The door opens and more haunting sprits enter. Two women - one is quite young looking, cut black-hair and big brown eyes. She has a tie around her forehead, and wearing black clothes. She is giving everyone a dirty, untrusting look. The other is a little older and a brunette, curls and twists in her ribbon. Her green eyes are kind. She is holding a basket of delicate flowers in her hands.
"Hello everyone."
"Hello Ms Gainsborough."
Zexion sinks into the chair a few inches. A slight blush pricks his cheeks. He just remembered that Aerith used to coo and fuss over Ienzo in a 'auntie-like' manner when he was young. All the women used to. Mainly because he was the youngest boy in the castle, small for his age and he had a bit of puppy fat and rose-colour in his cheeks when he was eight, which made him look cutesy.
Don't let her talk to me he begs over and over again in his mind, praying to Gods. Don't let her talk to me. Don't let her talk to me. Don't let her talk to me!
"Hello Zexion."
Damn. He gazes up at the woman, who looks very happy to he him. For some reason.
"…H-Hello Aerith" the boy mumbles. The woman is not shy to lay her hand against his face, making it warmer still, and then the other one touches his face.
"Nice to see you're awake." She lets her hand trail his skin as she lets go. "You took your time doing so."
"Hmph!" From the window, Yuffie is making disapproving sounds, refusing to look at anyone. Particularly the ones at the table, eating cheese sandwiches. Apparently, she has not forgotten about past events either.
"When is Lexaeus coming?" Aerith asks sweetly, ignoring Yuffie.
"In the evening" Vexen shrugs. "He has other tasks to do as well."
Zexion shivers at the name - Lexaeus. His stomach lurches. Why? After everything they went through… It was not that he does not want to see him… Sort of. Its just… Oh! You do not understand! No one does. Only Zexion knows about this.
"You don't look so good, Zexion" Marluxia says, looking over at him. "Are you alright?"
"I'm-" Zexion gulped loudly, clamping a hand over his mouth. "I'm fi-Agh!"
He springs up to his feet and runs to the waste bin, emptying his half-digested lunch into it, with some very loud gagging noises and strong bodily shaking. Everyone stares at him, surprised and a bit worried. Apart for Yuffie. She is laughing at the poor thing.
------
Evening.
The old library is still here. As are the books, scrolls and texts. Floor to ceiling. Ienzo liked spending time in this room when he was young. Many rainy days were lived in here, lost in words and detailed illustrations.
Zexion smiles fondly as he trails his fingers along the rows of spines, recognising the texture and titles again. He does not know what to pick up first. They are all tattered and well-used. Well-loved by many hands. He walks up the stairs to the next level of the library, taking in the smell of old paper. How many times did Ienzo walk this marble floor? Countless maybe. He looks over the balcony and takes in the whole room at once. He missed this place. He never realised that he missed it until now.
It's great to be home.
The heavy doors creaks open, distracting him. He looks down. Through the entrance appears a man. A giant of a man, with a fine, toned body and craggy, chiselled facial features. A complete opposite to small, mare, thin-framed Zexion. His reddish-brown hair - wiry and wild - is combed back as neatly as possible and his face looks quite fresh for a man of his age. He is wearing causal-formal clothing; a Venetian-red shirt, dark trousers and a similar white coat to that Vexen wears. He walks with carefully placed, heavy steps, his dark, sapphire eyes searching the shelves. Just like Zexion did.
"Lexaeus" Zexion whispers, covering his mouth. The man is here? He… does not want to see him. Not now. Not yet. Slowly, he backs away from the side. There's a hidden way-out somewhere here. He could just slip out of here through that. He would if he did not just fall over a chair, causing a painful tumble and a lot of noise.
"Damn it" he groans.
"Is someone up there?"
Lexaeus walks up the stairs and finds Zexion. Of course he would. He stops about five meters away from the young man, who is picking the chair back up, hiding under his hair.
"…Zexion?"
The boy finds his voice again. "…H-Hello Lexaeus."
How awkward. They just stand there - Lexaeus looking at Zexion, Zexion looking at the ground. Silence. Complete silence. After awhile Zexion clears his throat and looks at the man at long last.
"Ahem… You're looking well."
"Thank you. You look well too." Lexaeus rubs his neck calmly. "How are you coping with… everything?"
"Quite well. Quite well." Zexion folds his arms, hands on elbows. "I've stopped believing that all of this is a dream and I'm eating normally."
"That's good to hear."
"Hmm." Another round of quiet air. They shift their weight slightly.
"…I haven't see you around" Zexion says with a very forced smile. "Where have you been hiding?"
"I've been around" Lexaeus explained. "I have rent to pay and I need food to live, so I've been at work most of the time." Zexion nods. "Why are you in here?" Lexaeus adds. He wants to get out of here. Zexion wants to leave. He could not be in the same room as Lexaeus. He might break down and…
"I was just looking for a book to read in bed" he sighs, running his fingers through his fringe. "You know what I'm like. It takes me forever to go to sleep but I'm out like a light when I do and you can't awake me up until eleven-thirty." You are babbling, Zexion. Wrap it up. "Anyway, I should be getting back to my room. Vexen says I should rest properly so my health will improve." He takes a random book from the shelf (Villette by Charlotte Brontë) and walks straight past Lexaeus like a gentle breeze. "It was nice seeing you again Lexaeus."
"Zexion?"
He stops at the top of the stairs but does not look back. He can sense the older man is looking at him with his deep eyes. The corners of his mouth were turning down. Lexaeus spoke to him with a soothing voice.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" It takes him three strides to reach Zexion, and he places his right hand on the boy's shoulder. The hand makes him shiver. He is very familiar with this hand, and its partnering hand. They are large, callused and rough, but they handle everything with care. Zexion knows that. He is tempted to reach up, and mesh his smaller, slimmer fingers with Lexaeus', to enjoy the feeling of soft skin on work-worn flesh… but he does not. Instead, he moves his shoulder away from the man's grasp.
"I'm alright, Lexaeus. I don't need an… anything" His voice goes high and shaken. He bows his head a touch more, hoping to hide his quivering bottom lip. He tries to calm himself. He really wants to say something. "Lexaeus, I…" He trails off, which makes Lexaeus arch a brow. The man leans forward slightly.
"Yes?"
"…Goodnight, Lexaeus." Zexion descends the stairs in a quick walk, leaving Lexaeus on the second level, who slowly drops his arm again.
"Good night" the man sighs to the boy, who does not see the disappointed look on Lexaeus' face as he walks away.
------
Suddenly exhausted, Zexion rests his forehead against his room door. The book is dropped to the floor and forgotten. It's cold, and blue-grey with the inked-out sky casting in through the wide window. He sighs, trying to calm his beating heart with deep breathing, placing his shacking hands against the cool surface. Then he realises his cheeks are wet. Wet from salty silent tears that are running down his face like streams. He steps away from the door and rubs his face with the back of his hand.
Oh, Sadness, old friend. We meet again.
He moves slowly - walking to the bed and sitting down in a impossibly long minute. He works at wiping his face dry, feeling embarrassed that he is physically in his twenties (chronologically older and mentally archaic) and is weeping like a three year old. He is not sobbing, or making lots of noise. He is just shedding tears.
Lexaeus did this to him. Not on purpose but it is still stomach-twisting, gut-wrenching. Seeing him again was very painful. It brought back lots of memories - The Good, the Bad and the Terrible. All of him and Lexaeus… and of Aeleus and Ienzo too. He smiles for some unknown reason - even to him - and lies down on the blanket, giving up on his dewy eyes. He whispers quietly into the air, to no one but for someone important. The words are almost non-existence.
"Lexaeus… I'm sorry… I'm sorry for killing you."