There are a lot of references in here; Invitation to a Beheading, The Princess Bride, Anastasia, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and a glimpse at our next destination which is from The Rescuers. Oh, also, Middleton and Go City are cities from Kim Possible. Nami's still pretty much psycho, but this chapter is a huge setup for the rest of the fic. Those of you who recognize where this is sort of going will probably either laugh at me, call her an idiot, or go wow, sexy. I hope you enjoy the ride and I don't screw it up, because sequels are tricky.


To paraphrase, Cincinnatus C. said everyone was a parody. I mean, in his case, it was, and Nabokov was a either a genius – which is my personal opinion – or a serious fucking nutjob, but still, there's some truth to that. I feel like I'm in a story or a dream and everything here is all played up, fucked up, and planned out. Some people might say God's calling me, or I'm having an existential crisis or whatever, but I know what this is.

This is me thinking about running. Looking for any excuse I can to get the fuck out of here.

Larxene's breathing is slow and pretty next to me. She's always beautiful, even when she sleeps, even when she hates me. I've got everything I could ever want at this moment; the love of my life in my arms for once, a warm bed, a secret confession.

I don't love you, Naminé. I never did. I don't know what the hell we're doing here or why, but I don't think I care. Maybe I'll never love you, but someday I might seriously consider it.

So. Fucking. Beautiful. It's probably the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me. Tomorrow she'll tell me she loves me, but an hour ago…an hour ago, we took a break from this charade and became Real. She didn't ruin it by kissing me, either.

So of course I'm thinking about running. Everything good ends up going bad. Marluxia used to say that everything in life was an accident, from evolution to agriculture to this morning's breakfast. I'm scared this accident will right itself and I'll lose everything. Again. It sounds selfish and really kind of disgusting, when you think about it, because I'd still have Zexion and Sweet Memories and even maybe my dad, but whenever you lose something it always seems to be more important than what you have.

If you don't appreciate what you have before you lose it, you never had it to begin with. I hang onto everything intangible, like a conceptual packrat. It's never enough. The day I decided Zexion was worth keeping – after the party and the kiss – was the day I promised myself I would stop pushing people away or just let go completely, but just like promises to other people, promises to yourself are pointless.

I can feel Larxene's panties on my thigh. I could sneak out and be long gone by the time she woke up. I could pack up everything and fly somewhere. Out of the country, even. I could see the Narnia Museum in London or get lost in St. Petersburg.

She's breathing on my chest now. She moves in her sleep, especially when she's about to wake up. Can she somehow subconsciously tell what I'm thinking? Would she laugh at me if she knew? Would she call me weak and pathetic? Would she even care?

Of course she would. And I can't believe I was just thinking about leaving her. I mean, I can; that's kind of my MO; but she's been thrown away before. I remember having that non-conversation in Crystal Fissure and maybe she wouldn't be heartbroken, but how do you do that to a person?

Hot damn, I've grown a conscience. This is a weird thing for me.

"Mm, what time is it," she asks sleepily, blinking. I didn't even realize I was watching for it.

"Too early," I reply. I want her to go back to sleep, but I also really don't want her to go back to sleep. I'm in kind of a sucky situation here.

Her eyes snap open fully. "What are you doing here? Didn't I leave you…somewhere?"

Yes. Go Tower, to be precise. The, you booked a swanky room, got yourself drunk, and let me in when you otherwise wouldn't have. "I couldn't sleep without you…and…you said I could come back."

Close enough. Lying to the one you're supposed to love is supposed to be bad and everything, but it's not like we really believe each other anyway. To be honest, I'm not sure whether ours is a relationship or a giant power struggle to the death. To the pain. Whatever.

"Whatever." She stretches like a cat – oh god, don't do that right next to me – and gets up so she's kneeling. "Someone put a mechanical bull in my skull last night. Get the Aspirin out of my bag. Oh, and while you're at it, get your pills out of my bag too."

She's going to count them. I hate that. When she's counting it either means I have to flush them or take them, and half the time she makes me leave the door open so she knows I'm not throwing up what I ate. I think she thinks I must have developed bulimia or something since I haven't gained any weight, but it's not true.

Actually, I think she just likes to control me. Sometimes I think I should do something bad just to see what she'd do. If I threw up on purpose, would she hit me? Would she call me names? Would she tell me I'm disgusting and pathetic for having no willpower?

Whatever.

"I didn't take them last night," I tell her, but I get both bottles out anyway. I've found a new way to get out of taking my pills; I have a stash in the zipper pocket of my makeup bag. Since I use my makeup bag to hold my sewing kit, she'd never even look there. I don't even know why I'm saving them. Knowing me, I'm just holding them because someday I might want to take them and I don't like wasting. I'm irrational like that.

"Obviously. I had them."

"I could…get to them more easily if…you just let me keep them."

"Sure, but you'd probably take them all and die or something. Your friend told me you might try it again, and because he'd probably sneak in and kill me in my sleep otherwise, I'm watching out for you. You know, you should thank me, not complain."

Zexion, I hate you so much right now.

Wait. When did they even talk? "When…did he say that?"

Christ. If I could punch my voice box in the face, I would. Can't it just stop sounding like a fucking river?

"I called him when you disappeared. If you didn't want me talking to him, you shouldn't have left your phone. And if I'd have known you came with a manual, little girl, I probably would've left you in Traverse Town."

Liar, liar, pants on fire. Actually, stretching like that, she probably is hot enough to set her own drawers on fire and did I actually just think that? I'm so glad she can't read minds. Well, maybe if she could read my mind, she'd stop taking everything I say the wrong way. Can't even compliment a girl…

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." She downs her Aspirin without water, which I once upon a time could do but now makes me gag, and opens my bottle. "Here, just start taking them in the morning."

"You shouldn't listen to Zexion, he's a compulsive liar," I tell her.

She looks at me funny. I'm about to ask what's wrong, but she says, quietly, "So are you. I shouldn't listen to you, either."

"But-"

"You always say shit that isn't true. At least Zack, or Xylophone, or whatever his name is, made sense."

Wait.

Whoa.

Whoa.

Okay, I think I understand now. "I may not be…the most honest person, but…I won't lie without cause."

She rolls her eyes. "Meaning?"

"I might answer with a lie, but when I start a conversation I'll always tell the truth."

I'm afraid to look at her. I know she's holding out a pill for me and I know she's trying to discount what I've just said. She'll probably get me to take the pill and she'll probably just ignore what I said, but…I actually was telling the truth then. Why lie to someone when there's no reason?

"Just…take the damn medicine. We're heading to Devil's Bayou today and I want to eat before we get on the road."

I want to tell her I meant every word, when we talked at the tower. I want to tell her she's beautiful. I want to tell her she's the most important part of my life right now, even though she's a bitch and treats me like trash and doesn't love me even though she says she does.

I want to tell her everything in the world and make it all make sense. But I can't.