Notes from the Author: Wow, first ficcage! I can't believe that after 2 years, 5 months, and 4 days I finally have (a little-itty-bitty-teeny-tiny bit of) confidence to actually POST something to the ff universe! That, of course, is thanks to the ONE person that in 2 years, 5 months, and 4 days got through to me. Thanks Random! –grins– I don't know how she did it, but I am forever grateful to her, therefore, my first fic is dedicated to her!

Secondly, This fan fiction is a continuation of one written by someone else, I forget who so, don't go flaming me with "OMG! You stole this from –insert author name here–! You suck!" or any other inane nonsense. I didn't steal it, nor am I taking the "credit" for it. That plot belongs to him/her, he/she only inspired me to continue it, it my own way. Thanks to whomever you are for the inspiration. -grins-

Thirdly, The background information on that fic –points up– in a nutshell: Riku is a prisoner of Organization XIII. Roxas' induction -cough-raperiku-cough- into the Organization. Blah, blah, blah. Riku knows who Roxas (should be) but doesn't want to acknowledge it. Blah, blah, blah. End of nutshell.

Fourthly, The DISCLAIMER: In the words of Puss in Boots from Shrek 2: "It's no mine." Puss and Shrek 2 no mine either.

-coughs- I promised by Monday so –grins– here it is.

Call Me Tenshi

Rating: T for mentions of physical and sexual abuse.

Summary: CoM setting. Naminé PoV. Naminé struggles with feelings involving the Organization's latest ploy and decides to do something about it. She doesn't understand why these feelings grow, and in the end, has to make a decision. Cutesy Naminé/Riku. Mentions of XIII/Naminé and XIII/Riku

I watched Number VIII shake hands with the new recruit.

"Welcome to the Organization number XIII."

Adjusting his clothing, the blond grinned, "I never thought that getting into something so complex would be so simple."

The other also grinned "I know. We can thank the Superior for that…" Their conversation fell off as they disappeared down the corridor.

My eyes narrowed, how dare they! They are lucky I was in hiding or I would have… Are They never satisfied?

Quietly I stepped from the shadows and crossed the hall, stopping outside a door with a sign that read Torture Chamber.

As my fingers brushed over the polished wood, I thought of the one on the other side.

I have never met this-Somebody. Who is it? What is she like? Or is it a he? What is he like? Then on a more practical side, what happened in there? Did that happen? If so, was this Number XIII gentle?

I felt something bubble up from my chest until it burst from my mouth. Laughter. I have heard that sound several times, but never has it come from me.

My laugh echoed in the otherwise silent hallway, sounding as cold and hateful as Theirs' did.

Since when were They gentle?

It wasn't as if They had feelings-emotions-of sensitivity for others; They are violent, careless bastards and I knew it.

I was just like them.

How could I be angry with Them? Why was I sensitive and interested in this—Somebody?

Because. They treated me the same way…until you arrived.

A new sense came over me, joy for my freedom and pity for the new toy. I tried pushing the though from my head…I will not pity you!

Still, the longer I stared at the door I realized something else.

You are responsible for my freedom. If it weren't for Them capturing you, I would be the one tied up and assaulted.

I will never forget the day Number VIII let me go.

(Flashback)

I heard him enter, knowing him only by the sound of his voice, Number VIII. "This is your lucky day."

I cringed, "Please. Please don't. I-I can't take anymore. Please just leave me alone."

The bed squeaked as his weight fell on it. He was silent for several minutes before speaking again, "I am not here to hurt you."

I stared at him, dumbfounded, through the blindfold. Was that…emotion in his voice?

"If you aren't here to humiliate me, why are you?"

He shifted, his presence hovering over me and I started to panic. He's going to make me after all.

I squeezed my eyes shut waiting for the throbbing flesh to be pressed to my lips…. It never came.

Apparently aware of my frame of mind, he chuckled, "I told you. I'm not here to hurt you." There was a faint swish as, in turn; he untied the cloths bounding my wrists to the bedposts.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I am doing?"

"From the sound of it, you are letting me go."

Reaching around my head, he chuckled again, "You are too cute."

The cloth fell away and I blinked in the dim candlelight, "You are letting me go."

"Seems the Superior found someone more… appealing. Nevertheless, you are free to go." He stood then turning to leave but I had reached out to grab his arm.

"Wait!" I paused searching for the words, "Thank you."

(End Flashback)

I can't explain, not even to myself, why I stayed. It was as if my non-existent heart was telling me to.

A groan and a series of colorful swearing came from inside the room startling me from my thoughts.

I knew what I had to do.

Turning on my heel, I raced to Number IV's lab for the first aid kit and then back to the hall where I pushed the door open.

The room was pitch black and smelled faintly of candle wax and something I didn't wish to identify.

"Hello?"

At the sound of the strained male voice, I stopped. I wasn't making a sound, was I?

"You're not…I know you're there. Tell me, who are you?"

"I'm a friend." I replied forcing the unsteadiness from my voice to sound as believable as possible.

"But you're not…I don't believe you."

"I have no reason to lie to you."

"Whatever." He retorted, "What do you want?"

Though my eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness, I carefully made my way into the room, until I bumped into what I supposed-and confirmed-to be the bed "I'm here to see to your injuries."

He snorted, "I don't need your pity. I've been worse off and got myself out of that. I'll get out of this as well." A hiss of pain escaped him, contradicting his words.

"Well like it or not, I'm going to help you. You should be grateful." I said digging though the kit for matches.

"Just so you know," he said in The Tone, "I don't like strangers checking me out."

"Oh really? Just so you know, you are being an arrogant jerk. Relax."

"Hmph."

With the room finally lit with the soft glow of the candles, I turned to face my patient and gasped.

"What? Like what you see? His voice low and dripping with sarcasm "Take a picture why don't you? It will last longer."

I couldn't reply I was focused on the sight before me.

His silver hair drenched in sweat laid limply, and covered his blindfolded eyes; his bottom lip was bruised and bleeding, and his arms were tied to the bedposts with scraps of cloth. There were red puffy scratch marks trailing down his chest; ugly bruises marred the paleness of his stomach and in places were dried pools of something.

My fingers brushed across his skin avoiding his injuries. What a mess. Despite his predicament, he's still strong, confident, and handsome.

I stopped mid touch. Handsome? What makes me think that, what is this bubbling inside me? I can't be…feeling…

The sound of his voice startled me from my musings "So are you going to do something other than stare at me?"

"What? Oh yes." Flustered by his change in attitude, I reached inside the First Aid kit for peroxide and cotton balls. "This is going to burn a little, but it will keep infection away. Okay?"

He nodded, "Thanks."

"No problem." I smiled and got to work mopping the dried blood from his bottom lip.

He was quiet, and I knew his eyes watched me despite the cloth covering them "Who are you?"

I looked up, his face written with genuine interest. I shrugged "Oh, Nobody really, just a friend."

"Okay…so when you aren't playing Doctor, what is it you like to do?"

"I'm an artist. Oil pencils are my favorite. You name it I can draw it. Other than that, Nothing in particular."

"I'd like to see them some time." He quietly said, "Your drawings, I mean."

"That's sweet, however nobody sees my work." I didn't intend to be blunt, just knowing Someone was truly interested in my work, excited me.

Excitement? Another emotion? Why?

"I'm sorry I offended you. Is it so wrong to show an interest in you?"

No "It's just—well—Never mind."

"They kept you too, didn't They?" he asked, "I can sense it, you're—"

His correct assumption startled me; I dropped the peroxide, "Y-Yes. They did. I was tied up, molested, and assaulted. Once They caught you, I was let go."

"Why are you still here?"

I shrugged "I have my reasons, I guess." What they are, I'm not sure.

"Oh." He paused "Would you mind if I kept talking? It's been a while since I had someone to talk to that would listen."

"I know how you feel, being tied up here, not knowing what is going on or why you're here…talk all you want."

He talked for some time about his home, his friends, his betrayal and his hope to fix it all.

"…No matter what happened, Sora always had a smile on his face and would never give up. I was jealous I guess. I wonder if he'll ever be able to forgive me."

I gasped, "What did you say about Sora?" This Somebody couldn't be… could it?

"I said I hope he can forgive me. Why? Who are you? How do you know Sora?"

"Are you Riku?" I asked, ignoring his question "Tell me! Are you Riku?"

"Y-Yes B-But-" he stuttered and then more forcefully asked, "Who are you? How do you know who I am and how do you know Sora? Where is he? Is he all right?"

"Sora is fine, he is currently… indisposed, but for now he is in good hands."

"What do you mean he's indisposed?" my companion panicked and kicked me from the bed as he tried unceremoniously to pull himself loose. "Who are you and what have you done with him?"

"Hush. Getting yourself all worked up is what They want. You need to stay strong for Sora's sake. As for your questions," I paused returning to my spot at his side "I can only answer one at a time."

He calmed if only a little, "Who are you?"

"A friend. Tough if that isn't the answer you want. Next?"

"How do you know Sora?"

"I've met him, briefly, on his adventure. He has been looking for you, Riku; he talked of nothing else but of finding you. That is how I know.

"In his search for you, Sora came to this castle and…his memories were rewritten. As the Organization's greatest fear—the only one who can destroy Them—Sora needed to be disposed of."

"So you are telling me, Sora is dead?" he paused shaking his head "No I would know if he was. He's not, is he?"

"No, he is not. He is asleep so his true memories can be pieced together again." I sighed, "For now he is safe but once he awakens and the Organization gets wind of it…"

"…They'll be after him again for sure." I felt his eyes fall on me "Who are They? Why do I feel as if you are responsible for Sora's manipulation?"

"They are The Organization, a group of Nobodies set on finding Kingdom Hearts. Only then can They be complete. As of now They are unfeeling, uncaring creatures of darkness." I blinked back tears. I knew once the questions started, I would have to confess. "I am responsible for corrupting Sora's memories. I-I didn't have a choice. They said if I didn't do what They ordered, I would be killed!"

The tears I had attempted to hide finally fell from my eyes, dripping onto his stomach.

It hurt knowing what I did and it confused me into crying harder.

Hurt, Confusion, I shouldn't be feeling any of this.

"I did what I was told and They still hurt me. I was tied to my bed and forced to suck Them off until They came! I begged Them to leave me alone but They only drove to molest me more." I sobbed into my hands "I felt so betrayed, used, and dirty afterward. I was so grateful when They caught you… Look what They did to you!"

My eyes swept over his battered body, fingers coming to rest over his heart, "They molest you and still you are so strong. If only I could have been this strong." I sobbed harder, drawing his concern.

"Hey. Hey." He soothed in a tone unlike one I've heard thus far. His eyes, even through the blindfold I could tell were sympathetic. "There is no need for you to cry for me. I've survived so far and thanks to you, I feel better. As for being strong, who's the one that is free?"

"Me."

"And who is the one that is tied up?"

"You."

"It's obvious you are the stronger one. Staying behind, to help me, after They let you go definitely makes you strong. Now don't cry. I hate seeing pretty girls cry."

"I'm not pretty!" I wailed, "I'm Nothing! How can Nothing be pretty? Besides you're blindfolded, you can't see me!"

"That's where you are wrong. Sure I'm blindfolded, I can feel you are pretty. Now dry your eyes and come here."

Doing as he bade, I moved to lie beside him, my tears and sobs subsiding.

We lay like that for sometime, not speaking, my head rested on his chest listening to his heartbeat—so that is what it is like—and my hands clasped on his stomach. It felt so right.

I could feel it; I was falling for the silver haired captive; falling hard, falling fast. I wished he would—could rather—wrap his arms around me.

He chuckled, startling me from my thoughts.

"What?" I asked.

"I was just thinking," he said grinning, "You are laying here cuddled next to me and I can't even wrap my arms around you."

I sighed, "It's just as well."

"What do you mean?" he shifted as I slid from the bed "You aren't leaving, are you?"

"I am. There is—something I need to see to."

His face twisted, "It's not me; is it?"

"No. It isn't you, it's me. Even under—other circumstances we wouldn't work out."

"Why do you say that?" his voice was barely audible.

"Because I'm Nobody. I am a Nobody."

"So you've been leading me on."

I nodded, "Basically. However, I had good intentions—to help you. I didn't count on falling for you.

"Falling for me? Nobodies are uncaring—unfeeling! —You told me so yourself!"

"I don't understand it either!" I was crying again, "Maybe someday I will but for now I do understand this. A Nobody and a Somebody can't be together."

"So this is goodbye then." He nodded although I knew he refused to accept it. "I don't even know your name…. will I ever see you again?"

Before I could think, I was back by his side. My hands wandered gently downward over his skin, making him shudder, and then back up I wound them in his hair.

"We are connected through Sora. "I brushed a kiss across his bruised lips, "We will meet again. Until then, just call me Tenshi."

Notes from the Author (2): –bites lip– Sooo. Good or Bad? Loved it, Liked it, or Hated it? Find any spelling issues, grammatical errors, or general corrections? Suggestions or Comments? Questions?

'Tenshi' means 'Angel' in Japanese…or it does in my brothers Japanese-English dictionary, anyway. Heh –sweats–

Please review– flames will be used as fuel for pyros or ignored completely– have a pleasant day!