Author's Notes: Well, I finally decided to post what is likely to become a very long fic, and will probably take me forever to finish. In any case, the title is from the Placebo song of the same title, which was a heavy influence when I was writing this and some of the following parts. Also, this is the first time I've written from first person perspective in years (something like 8 or more years I would hazard to guess), so it may seem a little wonky at times. Also, after the not so great reception I got for this on lj, I've been a little cautious about posting it elsewhere; only the support that I've gotten on Y!Gallery has kept me continuing to post it there. Please leave a review if you have any feedback or just to say that this didn't totally bore and/or offend you! Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own the characters. Only this horribly angsty and convoluted plot belongs to me. And I'm not always certain I want it, no matter what my muses may try to tell me.


Prologue

I didn't know how long I had sat curled up in the window seat, hours certainly. I just knew that I recognized that scent; masculine, earthy, calm and most important of all, safe. I jerked my head up from off my knees where I had been resting it, and immediately regretted the sudden movement. What little was visible in the low light of early morning swirled in front of my eyes, and I flailed to steady myself before Lexaeus rounded the corner.

"Zexion?" his deep voice rumbled, confusion and concern readily apparent.

"Yeah," I smiled, or at least, I thought I did; I'm not sure if it actually came out as a smile or as more of a grimace.

"You had a mission a day or so ago, right? How did it go?" he asked, surprising me by actually speaking more than I.

"Y-yes; it…didn't go as well as could have been hoped I guess," I answered, mentally cursing my chattering teeth. When did it become so damn cold, anyway? I carefully tried to lever myself out of the windowsill, only to find my vision graying out. Lexaeus immediately moved to support me, only to suddenly draw back when I hissed in pain at his hand on my shoulder. Shit, I forgot about that shoulder. Should have taken a potion for it. Damn.

"I-I'm okay, I just forgot to take a potion. I think I'll go take one and go to bed," I said, trying not to shiver, to not sway on my feet. My back was stiff from both the cold, and from the sharp pains coming from my ribs.

"No, you are not okay. I am taking you to Demyx, he'll heal that shoulder for you," Lexaeus stated, gently tilting my face up into the dim light to get a better look at it. He hummed to himself and added, "I do not think that your shoulder is the only problem here. Zexion, when was the last time you ate?"

"Uh, umm…I-I'm not sure. I think I ate the day before my mission, I can't really remember if I ate before I left on it; I think I just had a cup of tea because I was too nervous," I tried to remember, I really did, but everything had started to blur badly midway through my mission, and it had only gotten worse when I had gone to report to the Superior.

"Did you not eat upon returning?"

"Well, I had to write up my report and turn it into the Superior. He…was most displeased with what I had to report, and with what I managed to accomplish on my mission." I looked down at my feet, resisting the urge to just lean against Lexaeus silent, comforting strength. I couldn't afford to look any weaker than I already did.

I finally forced myself to meet his eyes, "Lexaeus, I'll be fine, really. I just need to get some sleep. Thank you for your concern." And I turned to head back to my rooms, intending to portal there, since I was much too tired to wander the halls. Only somehow I found myself in Lexaeus' arms, cradled like a small child.

"You will do nothing of the sort. We are going to Demyx for healing, and I will get some food for you," he rumbled, his tone impressing upon me that he would take no argument. I was really too tired and dizzy to argue, so I just leaned against him, falling into a light doze despite myself.