Just One More Chance.

Chapter II.

"The guilty one is Not He Who Commits the Sin, but the one who causes the darkness." - Victor Hugo.

---

There is a few things you need to know.

Actually, its a lot.

Let us start at the very beginning. Years ago, before everything got out of hand, Aeleus and Ienzo were lovers. They did not start out as lovers. Of course not. When they met, Aeleus was a teenager and Ienzo was only a young child, so it could not have been done. They lived in the castle with Ansem and the other apprentices when they started out their exclusive education. It was a strong friendship. It was like they were brothers. At first. They were close, always playing together and sticking up for one another, even though Aeleus was a little older then Ienzo. Age trivia aside, for the first handful of years - for about four or five - things were simple and great. Like most childhoods lived.

Then Aeleus started to see how attractive his friend was.

It was gradual at first, when Ienzo started to go through puberty. When he became less adorable and more handsome. Aeleus would find himself staring at the boy for long periods of time, noticing when he gained a bruise or a cut on his skin. Slowly, he lost fondness and sexual interest in females altogether, only focusing on Ienzo's everyday needs and wants. Then there was the dreams. Let's not forget about the dreams. The ones at night and day. That would leave him flushed-faced and slightly sweaty. (Typical adolescent male.) He would question himself, curse himself and call himself a pervert. There were times where he would really hate his refection. Although he never stopped loving Ienzo.

After awhile, Ienzo started to see that Aeleus was… quite handsome himself. He thought it was perfectly fine - since Aeleus was his best friend - to comment on how good he looked. Maybe he did not see that he was flirting with the teenager, or maybe he did. Who knows? But feelings started to grow out of control, along with the hormones.

Then it just happened - The confession. Ienzo made the first move. Aeleus could not stay away forever. A man's got needs.

Their relationship started slowly. Hugs and kisses at first, though Ienzo would often beg for so much more. Aeleus would often be close to breaking, but they remained celibate. Until Ienzo's sixteenth birthday. They made love after the party. (The younger's first time.)

Their whole relationship, even from the very start, was a secret. Being apprentices was like being princes of royalty. 'Taboos' such as homosexuality were frowned upon when you have a upper-class reputation to keep spotless. Everything was done in hiding. Every kiss, every touch and every fuck was keep behind locked bedroom doors, tangled in soft sheets and even softer noises. So no one would hear. They had to stifle screams with pillows, hands or the other's shoulders and neck.

They lived within a straightjacket. They had to bare with it. It was a secret they might have taken to their deathbeds. They had to.

The taste of power and Darkness is like giving someone opium or crack cocaine. If they like it, they will want more, and more, and more. Then they will either give it up or let it consume them. We all know what happened.

Lexaeus and Zexion - heartless and without feeling - did not know why they started another fire from their Others' embers. It could not have been love. It's ludicrous to even think it! It was possibly habit, together with pure lust and physical attraction. Everything was in private again. Nobodies in a relationship was quite odd. If you think about it. Even weirder… they were loyal. They was no cheating, no bed-hopping, it was just the two of them. No one else.

When Vexen perished, it was Zexion who made Lexaeus take on Riku. One-on-one. Well… it was more like he told him once to and he did it. It was not forced. The man went to fight willing, agreeing with the plan of action.

He never came back.

Zexion felt something. A small twinge in his chest. Maybe it was guilt? Possibly. It was possibly Lexaeus' death that made the Schemer fight the boy too, mixed with other things. It was the Replica that took him down in the end.

He died. Alone.

------

Zexion stands in the middle of the flat's living room and sighs to himself. After being alive again for a mouth and seven days, he was granted the 'get-out-of-jail card' - A clean bit of health and normal hunger patterns. It is better then staying in the castle - having certain committee members watching his every move, being questioned about different topics and feeling like a bored, smothered teenager with nothing to do, everyone doing the most simplest of tasks for him like as if he was disabled. At least he did not have to be near Lexaeus at all.

It sounds horrible of him to think so, does it not? He does not want to sound horrible. He just does not feel right, being so close to the man.

"So, what do you think?" Vexen asks as he walks in from the bedroom, giving the whole flat a look-over. Zexion shrugs.

"It's full of the basic furniture at least" he says solemnly. He pulls the curtain back on the window and studies the view. He can only see the other houses on the other side of the street. "I can't say much about the scenery."

"It's the best we can finded at the moment." Vexen runs the tip of his index fingers over the surface of the side table next to him, leaving a clean line in the dust. It's been awhile since someone lived here. "The rent is only fifteen-thousand munny per month."

"Great!" Zexion's voice fills with fake enthusiasm. "If only I had a job, then I could afford this place."

Vexen rolls his sharp eyes. "We can give you munny for the first few months. Don't worry about that."

"This is ridiculous." Zexion leans up against the bare wall, picking at his new jumper absently. "What job can I get? Most people don't trust us anymore. Some hate us with a burning passion. They only put up with us because Leon does… Just... You're lucky. You get to live in the castle before you have the experiments to look after, and no one trusts Marluxia and Larxene so they stay there too."

"And you're calling me lucky, why?"

The boy crosses his arms, huffing strong so his fringe flies off his face for a second.

"What am I going to do? I don't want to be under watch at the castle, so I need a job, but who will hire me? For Gods sake, I won't hire me. How am I going to live independent?"

Vexen pushes a piece of stray hair behind his ear, biting his lips in thought. "Maybe there is a way."

Zexion looks up at him. "What?"

"It may involve grovelling."

The boy stands up properly, his thin hands on his frail hips, frowning at the taller man.

"Just tell me, Old Man." An amused smirk spreads across Vexen's face.

------

Cloud and Leon have faced many threats in the past - The lost of their world, the Unversed, Heartless, Nobodies, invasions and even personal foes. They are brave, quick-thinking warriors who have the scars to prove it. So how come they are baffled by the small, slate-haired young man standing in front of them?

"…Can you say that again?"

Zexion takes a long breath and rubs his hands together, completely nervous and feeling like the biggest idiot in known existence. He asks his request again.

"I will be very grateful if you two could help me find work in this area of the city. I don't mind if it's the most boring, piss-poor job ever, as long as I can pay my rent on the new flat and have munny to live on."

The men just keep staring at him, making Zexion feel uneasy. He sighs and looks away. "Look. I know I'm one of your least loved people, and you probably hate my guts. However I am very desperate, and you're loved ten times over here. If you recommend me, I'm more likely to get a job. Then I'll be out of your hair, and be living like a normal person." He looks up again, clasping his hand together as if in pray. "Please. I'm… begging you." He forces the last few words through his teeth. Leon glances towards Cloud, who only shrugs, unhelpfully. He looks down at the boy again, who is trying to look pitiful. He looks hopeless and down right sad, to be honest.

Leon frowns. "…Are you sure, Zexion?"

"Positive. Vexen told me that you help the others to find work, so I know I can count on you. I really need this. Please." Leon and Cloud exchange looks again, before the blond speaks.

"I think I know a place. You might get bored and frustrated easily, but a job's a job, right?"

"I'm not going to work as a delivery boy with you, am I?"

"No. This is different."

------

"I don't know Cloud." The slightly overweight, balding-greying café owner rubs his tangled beard at Zexion in a judging, unsure manner. "I know he said he's turned over a new leaf and all but… what skills does he have?

"He's a smart kid" Cloud tells him, trying to sell Zexion on the spot. "He's a fast learner. He'll pick up the methods of your shop easy enough, and he's a hard worker. Aren't you, Zexion?"

"Erm. Yes!" Zexion is surprised that he is being asked something during this questioning. This is the only chance he has. He will never get a job if he does not get this one. Sure, it's serving ungrateful bigots (who only act like bigots towards him) while he is forcing a smile and taking every mean word he deserves, but - Hell! - munny is important.

"… Oh, alright then." The café owner gives in. He's in need of another worker, since the last one was caught dipping his hands into the cash till. Three waiters are not enough. "I'll give him a chance." He turns towards Zexion, pointing a stubbly finger at him. "If you mess up, you are out on your arse. Understand?"

Zexion nods slowly. "Yes, sir. I understand."

"You work from nine to seven on weekdays and noon to four on Saturdays. You get Sundays off and you will have some working holidays off too. The pay is 800 munny per hour. Got a problem with that?"

"No sir."

"You will treat the customers properly, you will treat me and the other workers with respect and you will wear the uniform you are given."

"Yes sir."

"And I want all of that hair out of your face. I pride myself for having a hygienic café, and I don't want hairballs turning up in coffee or whatever." Almost self-consciously, Zexion pushes his bangs back slightly. His mouth twinges slightly before he answers quietly.

"I understand. I'll push it back." The owner drops his finger and his face loses some strain. Then he just sighs - fed-up - and walks into the back of the café. He has a business to run. No point wasting time on this… boy!

"See you on Monday. I'll train you then. Nine o'clock on the dot. Be here!" Zexion watches his new boss walk away, distant look on his face. Cloud's hand on his shoulder wakes him again.

"Happy now?" the taller man asks. "You have work, with a income that will help you pay your rent and there will be enough left over to buy food and luxuries. You just have to work hard now." Cloud turns to leave, but pale, nippy fingers grab him by the sleeve.

"Cloud, wait a second." He looks down, meeting Zexion's deep visible iris, who is looking up at him in a very boyish, child-like manner.

"What?"

Zexion looks unsure of himself, not sure about his actions and why he stop Cloud. Then, slowly he smiles. A proper, genuine smile as he lets go of the sleeve.

"Thank you for your help. I'm really grateful." A ghost of a smile brushes over Cloud's face, then he just shrugs and sighs softly.

"Don't thank me. There's no need for it."

------

It has been three weeks since Zexion landed a job (with Cloud's help, of course. Thank you Spiky.) It was dish duty as first, since the owner did not trust him at all, but we all know that Zexion does not like to be mistaken for being a lazy, useless moron. He did not complain about the grease and coffee granules, and finished off the pots and mugs in record time. In just five days, the boss had loosen the reins and had let the boy behind the counter (much to the dismay of the poor waiter who replaced him at the sink.) It's mostly just mopping up surfaces and serving drinks. Sometimes facing foul-mood customers and resisting the urge to pour scolding tea on laps or spitting in lemonade, but he is far too mature for that, is he not? He has to be good anyway, dressed in his apron and stubby ponytail.

Today is settled and peaceful - only a few high school students on lunch break and the odd grumbling old person, none of who like him (or much of the young generation, but him especially.) All Zexion has to do is potter around, stacking espresso cups and count the stock. He has just started to placed dirty china into the 'to-wash' tub when he hears another customer enter and sit on a stool at the counter, not at the seventeen round tables. (Only regulars and big groups sit at tables.) The customer falls onto the chair and drops plastic bags - possibly his grocery shopping - onto the tiled floor next to him. His deep, heavy, drawn-out groan makes Zexion smile. Nice to hear someone else has had a tiring day.

"I'll be with you in a second," he tells the customer. "Just let my wipe my han-"

"Zexion?"

Zexion knows this voice. It is the rough, deep voice again, which makes him shiver with warmth. He turns around. As you may have guessed - as Zexion has - the work-beaten man is Lexaeus. He stares at Zexion in surprise, while Zexion looks on, embarrassed a little. First Lexaeus found him on the floor for the library in his pyjamas, now here, in a coffee shop, wearing an yellow apron. Will the humiliation ever end? Lexaeus smiles slightly, looking ever so friendly.

"I almost didn't recognised you without your normal hairstyle. Your eyes give you away though." Zexion smiles too. Just slightly. He has to wing it this time. There is no one on shift to take over. Dumb luck, hmm? He does want to be nice to Lexaeus after all.

"I know, I look terrible, don't I?"

"I do think your fringe suits you more, but you don't look so bad… I didn't know you work here now."

"Thanks to Cloud. You come here?"

"From time to time. When I'm in need of a pick-up after working." Zexion picks up a dirty cup and dumps it in the tub.

"You never said where you worked, Lexaeus."

"Didn't I? Sorry. I work at the general store on the corner of fourth street."

"That old place is going again" Zexion grins fondly. The apprentices used to go in there and buy sweets and other treats. Ienzo would buy the biggest packets so he had some in bed later on.

"It's the same family too." Lexaeus massages his poor, stiff knuckles. "I'm getting a 1000-per-hour munny wage."

Zexion scoffs. "You're getting more then me." This is better. Things feel better today. "What can I get you?"

"You should know how I like my coffee by now."

The young man nods and finds a clean mug. He knows exactly how to prepare his friends' drink - Black, strong with a slight hint of cream, no sugar or sweeteners. He even gives him a small plate of digestive biscuits, which he says are free. There are not, but Zexion will put some munny in the cash-register later.

"I was worried about you, Zexion."

"Hmm?" The statement catches Zexion off-guard. He leans forward on his bony elbows, looking curious. "You were… worried about me?"

Lexaeus nods, dunking a biscuit into the dark brown liquid.

"In the library, you seemed very unsettled and shaken." He looks up, meeting Zexion's eyes. "But seeing you being in control and looking better has been really comforting." Zexion smiles slightly. He wraps his arms around himself, acting like he's cold.

"Thank you. I honestly quite flattered."

Lexaeus chuckles. He glances at his watch. Half-pass six.

"I really have to go."

Zexion blinks, looking disappointed. "Oh. Really?"

"I would like to stay longer, but I can't. Sorry."

"No, no. I understand." Zexion tries to hide the loneliness from his voice. "It was… lovely seeing you again, by the way."

"You too." There is one lone biscuit left, so Lexaeus gives it to Zexion, who just flips it around in his hands. "Look after yourself. Alright, Zexion?"

"I promise."

Lexaeus says his farewells, picks up his shopping and waves goodbye out of the door. As soon as he leave, depression clogs up Zexion's lungs and he can hardly breath. Like he's hyperventilating. He runs into the empty back kitchen and into the staff toilet, sitting down before he tries to calm himself down, breathing in, out, in, out. Water forms on his eyelashes, so he hides them under his hair, pulling his hair-tie out. He preferred his fringe too.

He sits in the cubical for sometime, feeling a unreal burning hole form in his delicate heart. Why was Lexaeus being so nice to him? After he practically signed his death warrant and let him go to die… It has been about sixty-one days since Zexion came back, and he just feels terrible all the time. Damn Guilt! He has to apologize. He has to say sorry to Lexaeus. He does not care if the man reveals that he actually hates him. He might do later, but this is now. He has to say sorry properly, before he does something idiotic and childish.

He still has the biscuit in his hand so he takes a small bite, for comfort. His mouth is awfully dry.