"So...what's with this car again? Why couldn't we just portal to the cabin or something?"

"Forget your Dramamine or something, Axel?" Demyx asked absently, more worried about ice on the road and deer that might jump out into it than he was about his passengers' discomfort. "I told you, not all the houses in the area are summer homes or rental properties. People do live there year-round. They saw me drive up to the place yesterday, they probably know I'm renting it, all well and good. If I suddenly had a couple guests literally appear out of nowhere - all not well and good. So you two have to arrive by car like normal people. Or the neighbors might think we're...I dunno. Canadian maple syrup smugglers or something, and you somehow sneaked over by boat last night in the storm."

Roxas, at least, cracked up at that; Axel just looked uncomfortable and cranky. "You aren't supposed to be driving anyway," he continued to complain. "Aren't people with seizure disorders not allowed to drive unless it's been two or three years since their last seizure?"

"That's assuming the local DMV knows about it," Demyx said, trying to stay focused on the road and not on the aggravation in the backseat. "And rest assured, if I start feeling anything vaguely like an aura, I'll pull over immediately. By the way, getting severely emotionally overwrought, including extremely angry, can trigger a seizure, so if you don't want me to have a seizure behind the wheel, don't piss me off." Axel muttered something unpleasant under his breath, but shut up, for which Demyx was grateful - the closer they got, the worse the roads were. Thankfully, the rental car had snow tires.

I am so glad I thought to shovel the driveway this morning, Demyx thought to himself as they finally pulled in. Even so, he could feel the wheels slipping and sliding a little on the ice as they crawled up the slightly-sloped driveway, and he didn't quite breathe until he actually had it in "Park" and had the parking brake on. He hated winter driving so very, very much... "All right, we're here," he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and unlocked the doors so the other two could get out. "Keep in mind that I don't own this place, so don't break anything the real owners might consider important. Like the renter; I only paid them half up front."

"Were you actually worried that we might? And if you were, why did you invite us here?" Roxas cracked as they opened their doors almost simultaneously. Demyx snorted, trying to think of an appropriately wise-ass answer, as he stepped out of the car - wait, shit, no traction - his foot shot out from under him suddenly as he tried to grab at the door for support and his fingers couldn't quite -

"Demyx? Come on, get back with us, man. Just open your eyes."

Before working up the energy to do so, Demyx took a few moments to consider his current situation - he was now lying on his back all of a sudden, on something very cold, something was patting his cheeks, and his head hurt like a bitch. He groaned slightly and pried his eyes open to find two rather blurry Axels leaning over him with concerned expressions, and beyond them, the sky. "What the fuck happened?" he croaked, already starting to put it together himself.

"You slipped and cracked your head on the ground," Axel said, confirming his suspicions. "And then, because Roxas apparently believes in kicking people while they're down -"

"That was an accident!" Roxas protested from somewhere behind Demyx, sounding absolutely mortified. "I slipped too! I was busy trying not to fall down and bust my own head open!"

Axel only snickered at that. "Well, after he randomly decided it was a good idea to kick you in the head -"

"It was an accident!"

"Sure, Roxas, whatever you say. Just trying to bust up poor Demyx's head a little extra."

"Guys..." Demyx held up a hand, trying to will himself to see only one Axel. "Let's just go inside..." He tried to sit up, and almost went straight back down - not only did his head start pounding three times as fiercely when he did that, the world tilted and spun in a most disconcerting manner with the faintest movement. "Oh...okay...that wasn't a good idea..." he groaned, lying back down as gently as he could manage. "Fuck, my head..."

Axel looked up, presumably at Roxas, then back down at Demyx, shaking his head with concern. "Demyx, what pocket are...screw it. Roxas, you get the door; I'll see about getting this doofus inside. We can't leave him out here until his head straightens out on its own."

Demyx was too dazed and disoriented to protest, even about the possible dangers of Roxas using magic to unlock the door. He simply lay on the ground, all but inert, as he heard the door open, then Axel hauled him to his feet and he had to squeeze his eyes shut as the combination of a pounding head and spinning scenery made him feel ill. "Go slow or I'm gonna heave," he pleaded.

"All right, I will; you've puked on me often enough in the past...don't worry; we're not going far. Just to the bed inside, or the couch, or whatever soft surface is handiest."

"Couch," Demyx groaned, clutching at the back of his head with the arm Axel wasn't using to support him. "First room you get to past the entryway...fuck, my head..."

"Just relax, man," Axel said reassuringly as he dragged Demyx through the front door. "We'll get you there. Roxas, can you get an ice pack ready?"

Demyx tried to will himself to ignore everything that was going on around him for the next several moments, especially his aching, spinning head. He didn't dare open his eyes again until he knew he was lying down somewhere soft with a blanket over him and an ice pack pressed against the giant lump on the back of his head. When he did, the opposite wall duplicated itself and spun briefly, then settled back down, for which he was grateful. "Aw, he's got a kettle of soup on the stove," he could hear Roxas saying from the kitchen.

"Isn't that nice of him? Too bad you don't get any because you kicked him."

"Axel...knock that off," Demyx said with a vague wave of his hand, even though he couldn't see either of them from his position on the couch. "He says it was an accident...fuck, I don't even remember it. I must have been knocked out on impact. With the ground."

"Fine, fine, if you insist. You're way too ambitious for your own good, you know. When did you start this, dawn?"

"Shut up," Demyx grumbled, wishing his head would stop hurting. "This world is about three hours ahead of home. It's almost noon here. And I didn't spend that long on it. I was just letting that cool on the stove so I could put it in the fridge while we did other stuff and heat it up later."

"Other stuff? Like what?" Roxas said, coming in to give him a couple Tylenol. "I figured these would help with your head..."

"Thanks," Demyx grunted, swallowing the pills without a moment's hesitation. "I was thinking about a snowball fight, personally...ugh, that hurts...it seemed the obvious..."

Roxas winced and shook his head regretfully. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen right now. At least, you better rest and wait for your head to stop hurting first. Should we put the soup away for you?"

"Not right now, I'm eating some," Axel called from the kitchen.

Roxas snorted and sat down on the end of the couch not occupied by any part of Demyx's body. "If it weren't for insulin pumps, he'd eat himself into a coma once a week and die by the age of thirty," he said. "Mind if I turn the TV on? I'll keep the volume low..."

"Sure, go ahead," Demyx grunted as Axel came in with a bowl of soup and sat down on the floor with his back against the couch. "Don't get many channels, though..."

"Well, we get no channels at all at home," Axel put in cheekily. "So as long as your only channel isn't CSPAN or - wait, Roxas, go back to that last one. Sweet; the Raiders are playing. Let's watch that."

"Fine," Demyx said with a wave of his hand. "I get next to nothing out of football, but if it keeps you quiet." Axel gave an affronted snort at that, but the game stayed on, and silence soon reigned, except for the sound of the TV and Axel having to explain what was going on to Roxas, who didn't understand the game any more than Demyx did and actually cared a little. Demyx just lay back and rested and waited for his head to quit aching. Eventually, he drifted into a semiconscious dream state between sleeping and waking, watching football players run around and burly guys drink beer on TV and Axel go to the kitchen and come back with two bowls of soup without really being sure whether any of what he saw was for real. He didn't really care that much; in this half-awake state, the pain was easier to ignore.

"Hey, you're not allowed to do that. You're not supposed to fall asleep when you get a concussion."

"I wasn't really asleep, Ax," Demyx grunted as he roused into something like full consciousness. "I wasn't really awake, either, but I wasn't asleep. How's the game going?"

"Game's over, Raiders lost, oh well," Axel said, standing up and stretching with a soup bowl still in his hand. "Rox, you done with your soup?"

"Yeah," Roxas said, handing his presumably-empty bowl over to Axel. "It was good soup, though. Demyx, how's your head?"

Demyx tried to sit up a little to answer that question, and was a little surprised to discover that the relentless throb was now down to a bearable ache. "Still hurts a bit, but I can function now, I think."

"Enough to survive a snowball fight without us having to trade our ammo for marshmallows?" Axel asked pointedly.

Demyx shook his head gingerly, quirking a faint smile. "Not quite yet...first, I want a bowl of that soup. I tried a couple spoonfuls while I was making it and that was it."

Axel rolled his eyes and sighed theatrically. "See, Roxas?" he declared in an unnecessarily loud voice. "We could be outside having a blast pelting each other with snowballs right now if only you hadn't decided to kick him in the head -"

"Axel, I told you -!"

AN: Sorry, the snowball fight has to wait one more chapter. XD This is number 58, "Kick in the Head", interpreted very literally.