Pairings: Future Axel/Roxas

Warnings: Adult themes/ Language

Author's note: A little unsure about this one. Not sure if that's because it doesn't have music attached to it like my other stories, or if I'm just nervous about portraying a prison environment. Please let me know if you think it turned out ok x

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Oblivion is a cruel place. The guards are the same as everywhere else I've been. Some are crooked, some are straight. They're all stupid. The same rules, regulations, and routine as the dozen other Hells I've served in.

But there's something different. Something in the air. The inmates are brutal, even by my standards. No allegiance is worth more than a pack of smokes, and if you take your eyes off anyone, for even a second, you're as good as dead.

In a sick way, I guess I like it that way. I belong here.

There's a level of respect here for anyone that makes it past the first month, and that's longer than I ever thought the new kid would last.

At first I thought there'd been a mistake. All baby blue eyes and soft blonde hair. Too young to be here. Too small, too fragile. I gave him a week at most.

Don't know how I missed the hard line of his lips.

As a veteran here in Oblivion, they sometimes call me out to help the Newbies settle in nice and easy. What a fucking joke. Every new recruit gets the same speech and then they're on their own. There's no room for dead weight in a place like this.

"Prisoner 13, meet your sponsor, prisoner 8. He'll show you the ropes." Up close he looked even smaller. Big, glossy eyes, and the frown of an angry toddler.

"Fuck, how old is he? Twelve?"

"Just do it, Axel." Tossed a salute to Leon. Far as guards go, he could be worse.

"Follow me, Blondie." Strode towards the hall without looking back, half hoping the doe eyed little shit wouldn't follow. No such luck.

He spoke, a soft voice full of daisies and fucking sunshine. "My name's –"

I cut him off, casting a glance over my shoulder. "Anyone tests you, don't bitch about it to me, I don't care. Nor will anyone else." He looked so tiny. Helpless. A walking liability. "Draw blood, kill the fucker. Don't give an inch, and you might not end up dead, or someone's fuck toy. Got it memorised?" I smiled, and turned my back on him.

Walking towards Zexion I could hear the gentle pat of his footsteps behind me. I cursed silently as the cheers and catcalls for fresh meat began. One way or another, I knew I had to shake him. Zexion was in his usual spot, sitting perfectly upright in his chair, untouched chess game set up on the table in front of him. He glanced up from the old, faded book clasped in his hands, eyes flashing from me to the new guy before returning to the worn pages.

Slumping into the seat opposite him I reached forwards and moved my first piece. With half an hour left before lockdown, I knew we'd probably get nowhere. Scheming bastard takes everything into consideration. 'Course, that makes him predictable. A shadow fell across the table, and neither of us bothered to look up.

"Odds on the newbie, Bookworm?"

Zexion stared at the chess board, tilting his head slightly. "Depends on his cellmate."

I tapped my fingers on the table impatiently. "A week."

"Less." He reached towards his knight and hesitated. Zexion glanced up again into that sunshine face and frowned. I felt a flicker of interest, and wondered if he knew something I didn't. But still, this scrawny thing? Maybe I was being too generous.

Too late now. I held out my hand to Zexion. "Deal. Usual trade?"

"Done."

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I glanced up as we shook, took in those big baby blues and said "Good luck, kid. I'm low on smokes."

Sensing movement, the muscles in my back tensed. I knew before I saw him that it would be Marluxia. Come to claim his new prize.

Blondie was oblivious. He seemed intent on something. He stared down at me as a world of trouble surged towards him and said distinctly "My name is – "

An arm snaked around his neck, another circled his waist.

"Oh, you don't have a name. You don't have anything here that doesn't belong to me, little one." Pink hair brushed his cheek. Always wondered if it was natural. Wouldn't that be just fucking typical. The rest of us bust our balls to smuggle in drugs and smokes, and he's got hair dye coming out of his ears. Bloody Queen.

"You're in my cell, Angel. I can look after you." A hand reached lower.

The play was set. I waited for the fear to hit his eyes. Panic, tears, revulsion, acceptance… anything. Instead, that same frown stayed in place, like Marly wasn't breathing down his neck, whispering obscenities in his ear.

"But you know what that means, don't you? You'll make a pretty little bitch."

A guard, probably Cloud, called down for Marluxia to back off, but it was too late. The damage was done. Something in Blondie's face shifted, and his lips curled into a snarl.

He moved in a flash, grabbing the hand plucking at the waistband of his trousers in a death grip, and breaking Marluxia's wrist with a 'snap!' that echoed across the walls, closely followed with Marluxia's howl. At Marly's side, Vexen made to grab at the new kid, who dodged, and sent him toppling into the chess table. I leapt up, prepared for anything. Zexion remained in his chair, raising an eyebrow at the book which had been wrenched from his fingertips in the fall.

For the first time in a long time, I felt a genuine smile stretch across my face. Now this was interesting. The kid had been in fights before.

The thunder of hurried footsteps heralded the arrival of guards – too late, as always – and I put my hands behind my head, knowing I was still grinning.

Blondie had time to drive a shattering punch straight into Marly's face. I heard the hit, solid and unafraid. He turned to face me, fists clenched and breathing hard.

"My name is Roxas. And I'm nobody's bitch."

I listened to Marly's cries as he clutched his face, writhing on the floor and promising death. But all I could see was the way Roxas wiped his bloody knuckles on his top, face carved from stone.

He raised his hands behind his head, ready for the guards. Spitting on the ground he growled "Got any more advice for me, Sponser?" I couldn't help myself, I laughed. He didn't need a sponsor. He needed a fucking straightjacket for taking on Marly head on like that. Four guards arrived, and he was swarmed. Thank goodness, law and order, the shining light, ready to break up a fight that was already over.

Taking no chances, the guards cuffed the lot of us. Zexion looked displeased to be leaving his book behind, and Marluxia's swollen nose was bleeding steadily. I cleared my throat and called "ROXAS." He stiffened, and though he didn't look at me, I knew he was listening. "Watch yourself tonight. Don't sleep."

I turned to Zexion as we were lead away, remembering the cold look on Roxas' face as he took on a man nearly twice his size, the sharp edge to his smile, and the blood on his bared fists.

"Three weeks. Double or nothing."

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