***All chapters of this story were edited on 2/7/10.***

Hey everyone~! My second non-oneshot Kingdom Hearts story! Woo! Now this story will be a tad weird, but I hope you enjoy! I guess I should explain the way that I thought up this... As with my other story, this one deals with serious issues.

I was at Walgreen's earlier yesterday and got inspired to write this. It wasnt just a plot-bunny that hit me, folks, it was a plot brick, the type that doesn't tickle your brain, it full-blown football-tackles it. Walgreens, in the Pharmaceutical section. By the way, the Walgreen's pharmacy in my neighborhood has the most horrid, abysmal service...You'd think that the pharm technicians became teenagers getting paid less-then-minimum at some grocery store or something. But moving on...

I had to go buy my mom some medicine because she was suffering from a bout of nasty allergies, and here you have to show a driver's licence for it which probably means the drug in question is abused by a lot of people. My mind wandered to what would happen in a very odd yet hilarious scenario: "So which gang you dealing to, kid?" "o_0' My mother?" XD Anyways, it made me think of druggies and sexy pharmacists then that went to Axel and Roxas. Don't ask me how. It just did.

But I digress. I hope you all enjoy my newest creation!

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Kingdom Hearts nor make any monetary value from writing this.

Rated M for many reasons. Contains drugs, spoilers for KH 358/2 Days, drug abuse and recovery, violence, bad language, and HOMO-sexual activity. Do not approve of any of that, do not read, but you might be missing out on a lovely story.

There are going to be beautiful moments and very ugly moments in this story. There is nothing amazing and fun about abusing drugs and it should never be glorified... yet there is always a chance to recover. I hope I portray that as succinctly as possible in this fan fiction.

Enjoy.

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"I'd Like to Pick Up A Prescription, Please..."

Roxas ran his hands through his hair, gripping the ends and tugging antsily. He. Needed. A. Fix. Yawning, he stared up at the pockmarked ceiling of his lonely living room (If one could even call the room something "living") and dug his heel into his ratty, musty futon, complete with stains from who-knows-where and fluff falling out of an undone seam. The place he lived in was inherited by his great uncle, DiZ, whom died in some freak accident and left the house to Roxas, the house debt completely paid off. It was a three story tall rickety old thing that looked like it belonged in some fable rather then in Twilight Town. Complete with an army of cockroaches, hoards of dust, and elusive Shadows that roamed about on the top floor that had had no human interaction in fear of a painful aerial death (or perhaps one by dust-bunnies), it was what the boy called home.

Well, at least, Roxas called the 'living' room home. The floors and areas with surface space were littered with trash, soda cans that were sometimes still full, half-eaten containers of take-out, broken glass, dust, magazines, clothes and anything that was lucky enough to be discarded. The floor, if you could even deem it one, needed a bad polish, and the room in general looked as if a tornado had hit. Or prehaps a bus, for one side of the room had splintered wood, paint dust and chips, and spiderwebs and metal scattered in a pile, a rather large square-shaped hole directly above it indicating that something heavy had fallen from the room above. The object in question was unidentified as the huge heaping pile was large enough to hide a stove within.

His mother had been a doctor, or more precisely, a neurosurgeon, if you will. She had prescribed narcotics and painkillers from ibuprofen to synthetic heroin to her patients to find relief from the pains of spinal surgery or whatever else ailed them. Roxas had started experimenting with some light narcotics after a dare, seventeen years young. Who knew that narcotics were so addicting in his family? The 'friends' that dared him were in a gang fight in Hollow Bastion a few months later. They died. Roxas' addiction stayed.

So of course, Roxas' tolerance grew greater, and slowly Roxas moved onto greater things.

No one knew exactly what happened to his mother, but people last heard of her running off to some distant land.....

She wasn't dead, that much was certain. For all anyone knew, she could have simply hidden herself within that rickety old mansion. But after the law enforcement had engaged in a manhunt across five worlds, they figured a woman such as herself, if she wanted to be hidden, woman stay hidden. If she was dead, nothing could be done...the murderer would be caught eventually...but she wasn't. So out of some legal anomaly, her signature was still legal.

Such was the way the law of Twilight worked... and such it would always be. Months would pass and turn into years, and people would forget.... and Roxas dared to fill a prescription and sign it with his mother's name, easily feigning the almost indistinguishable writing all doctors seemed to use. He needed the drugs, he needed to be high, he needed this feeling. That was the addiction talking, yet Roxas didn't care. Once you were hooked you stayed that way, or so he thought. It was so easy to believe.

"For my brother... He got in a c-car accident a-and...," Roxas would mumble, faking the haunted voice and looking distraught, piercing and shattering and bruising the heart of the nice, kind young woman who was on shift. He didn't need to fake the act, though. He had the cute boyish look and the sunken-in, dead looking eyes of a drug addict that would've easily passed as someone in mourning, baby fat still on his cheeks. He was shaky, twitchy, scared to deathhe was going to get caught and thrown in the slammer for the better part of a decade, but the woman had given him the drugs, and for a whole month, he had a supply, and sold the remaining five at the end to some desperate street-corner hooker for a two-hundred-and-fifty munny a pop. 1250 munny, another month's worth of whatever, plus a wellfare check from the corrupt government.

Four years had passed, since that first incident with the fraudulent prescription note, and Roxas had upgraded to stronger, harder substances, changing his Moogleland's as he moved through higher drugs. He'd gone through one store, "Bro's doing great now, thanks so much!" to another. Roxas was not stupid. On the contrary, he was highly intelligent, if a tad naive in some spots. Of course, the drugs carousing through his system dumbed him down substantially, but he'd grown quite the tolerance to the medicines.

Had he no conscience? Of course, but conscience was happily lost in a drug-induced coma somewhere in the far corner of Roxas' brain....

So here we find twenty-year old Roxas, a young adult with seemingly no future except to wander over to the nearest Moogleland, illegally obtain controlled substances, get high, and sleep about on a musty futon, and repeat. No human interaction except a "Hi, how are you sir?" and a "Hope your family member gets well sir, pleasant day!" Once or twice a month...

Roxas was lounging on the dirty futon, scuffing a bare foot as he yawned. He brought shaky fingers to his mouth to try and catch the yawn before it escaped but let his hand fall back, snorting. "What....a day." The blond spoke to himself, turning over on his side although it ached terribly to do so. A small mirror hung on the wall next to him, right at the place where his face generally was. "Huh...R...oxas...?" He let out a small chuckle, bringing the shaky hand to the mirror to to trace the pathetic reflection called his face. "You look like sh..it, man." His blond hair was slightly matted, sullied another shade with dirt and fluids. His azure eyes blinked out at him, clouded over with the drug haze. "Almost out of pill..s, h..uh...." He groaned, "Need...more in a few...days. Hurts..." The short man fumbled for a bottle of Lithium, spasms from his muscles causing him severe pain. Shakily opening bottle, he fished one capsule out, downing it dry. "Much better..." the blond whispered, arching his back up as he tried to get rid of the tensing muscle pains.

Roxas shut his eyes and watched the darkness, shapes and colors dancing across it like fireworks. They formed a happy girl, smiling and grinning, trippily swirling away after he focused on her. "Xion..." He muttered incoherently, falling back into a slumber.

Another factor that caused him to begin to do drugs: His best friend, the best thing in his life, the thing that gave him purpose and meaning, and she died in his arms. He was not to be forgiven....but that did not matter now.


Darkness

Axel yawned, chucking a pen at the reinforced-glass of the Pharmacy window bitchily as his last, mouthy customer gave him an earful about some drug's price. Two baby-goths loitering at the front desk giggled, making Axel grit his teeth. Why did females have to be attracted to him like flies to food? During the past three hours the redhead had dealt with countless amounts of females from ten to sixty-three. It annoyed him sometimes, but his boss loved it: Axel's good looks attracted more buisness.

He turned to the two girls with a Moogleland grin. "Care to try out our newest sample of cod liver oil, ladies?" After a moment of confusion, the girls made disgusted faces, squealed and hauled tail. Eeewu! But he was TOTALLY sexy!

Rolling his eyes, the redhead turned and watched another Moogleland employee-- his best friend Demyx (He'd so cunningly conned the blond into the job, to suffer with him)-- stock the Woman's Hygeine shelf with a snicker. The man was blushing slightly, causing the people in the near vicinity to either giggle like idiots or snicker like Axel was doing. "Having fun there, Demyx?" Axel smirked, resting his head in his arms on the counter. Said man blushed harder and retorted, "Well, at least I'm not selling Yaz and diaphragms to old ladies!" Axel choked, and a few men strolling around snorted and coughed, walking away quickly.

"Low blow, Dem," Axel stuck out his tongue, but he didn't really mind much by the insult, it was true after all.

Demyx shot him a look, but the pout on his face ruined the intended effect. "Who works on their twenty-fifth birthday, Axel?" The blond man sighed exasperatedly.

"Who the fuck works at Moogleland, period?"

"Touche..."

Axel sighed, and as a customer drove to the window, he jerked his thumb back in the direction, an overeager intern ready to take care of the drive-by window. They certainly called it that for a reason...thus calling for reinforced glass to be installed.

Axel rolled his eyes and adjusted his pony-tail. Stupid kids....

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How'd you guys like the first chapter? It was a spur of the moment thing, and it is now 6:20 am with noooo sleep. 8'D So we have Druggie!Roxas and a newly twenty-fived Axel, who seems to work a dead end job as a pharmacist! Woo!

So in case you didnt know.... Yaz is a birth control, Lithium can be used to stop muscle spasms.

This is an AU -motions to the MOOGLELAND- and Shadows, aka the cute little heartless that plague you in the game, are like vermin X'D

Please read and review! They make me smile and make me write more. ;D

Much love! Rayne