Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts (as of yet.).

Yes, this is a yaoi fic. Don't like? Don't read.

Pairings: Sora/Roxas, Axel/Demyx, Larxene/OC, Roxas/OC...that's all I have planned (for now, at least).

Thank you Bubbles for giving me this plot. I couldn't have done it without you. And of course you'll get your own character. Now, on with the story!

I hate this, Roxas thought. Sitting in a horribly uncomfortable black leather chair, one of about two dozen set in a row, Roxas sighed. He hated waiting in airports.

And here he was, stuck in Atlanta for a flight that wouldn't start boarding for another three hours.

Roxas frowned at the book he had tried to read. He held it in his hands, leaving forward and sitting with his elbows on his thighs. The joker card that was illustrated on the cover grinned up at the boy, then laughed at his plight. Roxas's frown deepened, and he stuffed the book into his carry-on bag. The joker's laughter quieted to an occasional snicker. (1)

Roxas looked at the watch on his left wrist. The hands of the watch moved as if they were made of lead; the second hand crawled around the clock face at an annoyingly burdened pace.

"Flight 247 is now boarding at Gate 7. Flight 247 is now boarding at Gate 7." The voice on the intercom was monotonous, barely rising over the sounds of bustling people going every which way, intent on living their lives.

Resting his chin in his hands, Roxas watched the busy people rush by, their heels and sneakers and flip-flops clattering uproariously against the tiled floor. Different faces, clothes, colours, and races all hurried to their desired destinations, taking no notice of the blond boy sitting in a chair across from the bathrooms at Gate 4.

He groaned and checked his watch again. 12:36 its hands read. Roxas then shifted to pull his plain ticket and itinerary out of his back pocket. He stared at the digits that followed the 'Departure Time' column.

Atlanta to Miami: Approx. 3:45 pm.

Roxas sighed again.

Checking his watch yet again, it informed him that a minute has passed.

"Lovely."

Roxas stared into the moving oblivion again. When that got boring (which it did within two minutes), Roxas decided to take a nap. He pulled a small pillow out of his overstuffed bag, having a bit of a tangle with his iPod headphones. Luckily, the armrests folded up into the seats, probably for mothers and babies, Roxas thought.

Relatively satisfied, he threw his pillow into the next seat over and laid down, struggling to find a comfortable position. Finding one, he again consulted his watch.

12:41 pm.

He glared at it and set the alarm for 3:15, though he figured he'd be awake long before then.

If I ever get to sleep...

He closed his eyes, on hand closed on the itinerary, the other clutched tightly on a handle of his carry-on. After a while, all the sounds of the airport began to melt together into one incessant buzz. Then that faded, and Roxas slept.

It was as if someone had turned the colour knob on reality all the way down.

Everything was grey scale, but...no. Not everything. A pinprick of yellow light flickered somewhere ahead like a beacon. It was here that Roxas began to make his way towards. He pushed through the crowed of people, all of them shades of grey. Their steps made no sound; all was silent save the slap of Roxas's shoes against concrete.

The light seemed to shrink away from him, and Roxas broke into a run, desperation strangely heightening with every step.

And then he was upon it.

It was a burning car.

There was still no sound. Part of Roxas knew that he should the roar of the flames or the creak of the car losing its metal or his own breathing; but there was nothing.

Reluctantly curious, Roxas circled the edge of the car's light, stopping in front of the car to view the passengers inside.

His breath caught. Tears began to form in his eyes.

Inside the care were his parents, their faces distorted by their muted screams. Frantically, his father tried to force open the door in vain. His mother kept on screaming.

Roxas was mortified. He turned to his left and right, uncomprehendingly looking at the faceless grey people that still shuffled lazily about beyond the edge of the burning car's light.

"Why doesn't anyone do something?!" he shouted at them, his voice stopping the silence for all but a moment.

The crowd bustled on, unhearing. Roxas shouted again, but with the same results.

Tears streaming down his face, he turned back to his burning parents caught in a flaming deathtrap.

His father's face was downcast, flinching at the heat occasionally. He'd given up all hope. His mother was now pointing straight at Roxas, a look of pure horror painted on her face. His father looked up, his look piercing Roxas as that same horror manifested in his face. The soundless pain they displayed was unnervingly real.

Roxas looked down. A line of fire had branched itself to him. His eyes widened with terror; his mother stood agape to scream, but the forbidden sound was strangled by grey.

His brain refused to function; hi could only stare blankly at the yellow and orange conflagration as it burned his shoes and started to lick up his pants. He didn't feel it, nor smell it, nor hear it, but it petrified him nonetheless.

Suddenly, he was spun around and shaken violently. A man held him by his shoulders with a hat and badge to signify him as a policeman.

The policeman was as grey as the rest of the world. His face was almost nonexistent: no eyes, or nose, just smooth skin where they were supposed to be. He had a mouth, though. And when he spoke, glorious sound came out.

"Oy! Wake up, will ya? You're gonna miss the flight..."

The grey started to dim into black. Before the darkness completely descended, he felt the ground shake, and someone hugged him and turned him around. Then, darkness.

Roxas was slow to wake up. Gradually the sounds of a typical airport began to amass in his ears, but above that was a voice that kept telling him to get up.

"Come on! Gods, no one wakes up this slow!" Exasperation was creeping into the voice. Roxas groaned and let out a meek, "What?" without opening his eyes.

"I said get up!" The voice was rough now. Hands pulled Roxas into a sitting position. His eyes snapped open, though he immediately regretted it. Light and colours filled his eyes at once, and he nearly cried out in pain.

His eyes still closed, he felt around for his pillow, there, and his carry on, here. Ticket? Ticket! He panicked, his hands searching fruitlessly for his plane ticket.

"Calm down, uhh..." the voice paused, "Roxas." The voice held out the 's' sound for a fraction of a second. Eventually the pain in his eyes subsided, and Roxas cracked them open.

Before him stood a boy, his age or a little older, with his arms crossed and tapping his foot impatiently. His eyes were strikingly blue, and his brownish hair stuck out at all angles, though more toward the right side than the left. He cocked his head to the side and asked, "You awake yet?"

Roxas yawned, quickly covering his mouth. Then he looked around. To his horror, he turned around in his seat to see that people were already boarding the plane. The line was getting smaller by the second.

"Shit!" Roxas jumped onto his feet just as his watch started beeping berserkly. He paused and turned the alarm off.

3:50 pm.

Inwardly, Roxas smiled at the thought of his watch going off every five minutes, and how insanely annoying it must have been. Even so, he stuffed his pillow into his carry-on, zipped it up, then hauled it over his shoulder and started heading to the gate.

"Thanks," he said over his shoulder.

Then realization hit him.

"My ticket!" Roxas exclaimed. He turned around, and there was that same kid, holding his plane ticket and itinerary in his extended hand, a slightly amused look on his face.

"You dropped this," he said.

Roxas grabbed the ticket as fast as possible without snatching it. He looked at it, and everything seemed to be in order.

"You gonna just stand there and stare at it, or are you gonna use it? I'm sure the plane's leaving soon, and I can't get by you," the other boy informed him.

Roxas was a bit distracted by the sudden loss of time. "Uhh...yeah." He continued to the desk beside the gate.

"Ticket, please," the lady said. She had black hair and far too much makeup. She wore the standard airport uniform, black shoes, grey skirt, and grey vest over a white blouse whose buttons strained to connect around her breasts. She took the ticket Roxas offered to her and ran it over a scanner. After waiting for a confirming beep, she flashed him a practiced smile, and said, "Thank you."

Roxas smiled back and continued through the passageway onto the plane. Boarding the airplane, he saw that most of the seats had been taken. There were two seats near the back, though, that weren't occupied, one a window seat, the other right next to it. Roxas smiled at his luck. He moved through the slim aisle, speaking a repeated "Excuse me" and "Sorry". Finally he got to the empty seats. Sighing, he dropped his bag onto the floor and kicked it to the wall. Satisfied, he sat down and stared out the window, watching the other planes go about their business, small people driving carts full of suitcases, and people make their way around the monstrous devices.

An annoyed grunt made Roxas turn around. And there was that same boy again, pushing his luggage under the chair beside Roxas. Roxas watched him warily as he flopped down into the seat and turned to him.

The boy's thin lips formed into a smile as they stared at each other. "Your eyes..." he started.

"...are just like mine." Roxas finished.

They both blinked, then laughed. "So, you're Roxas, right?" the boy asked when the laughter died.

"How'd you know that?"

"Your ticket," he answered.

"Oh...yeah. Who're you?"

"Sora." Sora replied. "The name's Sora."

(1)- An allusion to Markus Zusak's "I am the Messenger," which I don't own. 'Twas a good book though. (Damn, you have to disclaim everything...)

First off, thanks for reading. Secondly, I hope you liked it! More chapters to come, hopefully.

I find it mildly funny that I wrote all of this in a day. I'm pretty proud of myself. Sore demo, of course there'll be more...interesting things in later chapter(s), (Have you ever had sex on a plane? Trust me, it's more than a little complic), so I'll start writing the next one now. I'm in a state of writer's bliss right now, so I need to write while I can before I get shut in with writer's block.

Don't you want to review it? Ya know you wanna click that little button down there that says 'Go'. You know you do.

--Raive