Chapter Two

There seemed to be a lot of hustle and bustle that night, what with Xaldin and his party arriving back home from their week-long mission. In a freezing, typhoon-like downpour no less. The storm whipped and whirled the rain in razor, white sheets. From the castle doors, Lexaeus and Marluxia could see the approaching Nobodies, huddled over and wrapped snugly under their hoods. By order of the Superior, they had to hand out armfuls of dry towels and thick, fleece blankets to the returning members.

Oddly, the Assassin only counted four walking figures ascending the ramp from the dark city. He felt no worry nor awkwardness for the missing member; his nonexistent heart wasn't in either emotion. Dusks disappear all the time – why should the Organization Nobodies be any different? He figured.

As usual, there were no welcome home's, glad you're safe's. No such words exchanged as Marluxia threw a towel and blanket on each of his passing colleague's backs. Secretly thrumming to a health concern of the Assassin's, all but Demyx appeared laden with varying degrees of influenza. Zexion's dry-sounding, whooping coughs easily overpowered Xaldin's normally thunderous convulsions. Old Vexen would be brewing cough syrup for weeks, and almost half of the Organization would be unable to rise from their beds.

"If everyone gets sick, we're screwed..." The botanist muttered to himself, wrapping a lilac-coloured blanket around Demyx's shoulders. Marluxia turned reached behind him for another towel; Number Eight then sluggishly trudged up to him. In his arms was cradled the smallest of Organization XIII, body limp and hood pulled over his eyes.

"He passed out." Phlegm cracked Axel's emotionless words as he adjusted his shoulders to better support the weight.

"Take that up with someone else." Marluxia bit back.

Axel was silent.

"It's not my duty here, Axel." Number Eleven slipped a towel around his neck and slapped him encouragingly on the back out of habit. The two had never been extremely close, but Marluxia pretended he and Axel could get along. He tended to imply that he wanted to be supporting of Axel in times of need. But Nobodies don't feel, do they? We don't need emotional support.

Roxas knows it well enough. I guess not being able to remember emotional warmth and chill helped him adjust so quickly. He gets angry kinda quick, though.

The red-head pensively stared down at the boy cradled at his chest; his face was already flushed that tell-tale rose pink. Roxas sniffled in his unconsciousness. Even fully clothed and through Axel's gloves, the blonde's rising fever seared through the pyro's skin.

Oh geez. He's gonna burn to ashes if his temperature goes any higher.

After double-checking the party head count, everyone wordlessly shuffled inside the dry, warm castle.

It was extremely quiet in the Castle That Never Was during sleeping hours. For good reason, at least. Most members of the Organization were sawing logs (yeah, no shit), dreaming of their past lives or some nostalgic, poetic junk like that. Most of them were. This particular night, two Nobodies had the lights flicked on in the Kitchen of Nonexistence.

It was not unlike Axel to get cravings this late at night. His stomach constantly burned away at anything that happened to be damned to its bottomless pits. Usually, light, fluffy snack foods fell in by their own misfortune, occasionally accompanied by a bagel or a couple granola bars. Therefore, he was always hungry. It was practically a ritual that he sneak instant meals and potato chips from the kitchen twice a week. Tonight's midnight fridge raid? Considering Demyx was with him... there could be anything missing from the cupboards in the morning.

"Grab the beef flavoured, Myx!" Axel flashed a grin over his shoulder, having turned his eyes away from a bag of barbeque chips. His black pajamas, trimmed with flames, contrasted blindingly against the extreme whiteness of everything in the kitchen. "It's my fave."

Demyx was kneeling on the white marble counter beside Axel, dressed in baby blue, cloud-print pajamas and eagerly digging through the contents of the snack cupboard. He pushed around a few plastic-wrapped, Styrofoam cups with his wrists.

"I think we're out, Axel..." Demyx worriedly reported, scanning over the labels. "Lots of chicken, though." Axel gagged, pitching the last pair of Cherry Cokes into his green velvet messenger bag at his side.

"Chicken Ramen tastes like mule piss, man!" He laughed a bit at his own dislike for the instant soup. "If we've got some cheese or shrimp, that'll do, I guess." Demyx poked around amid the sea of white Styrofoam, picking around certain colours on the labels. Nothing pink, nothing green.

"Sorry but... All I see is chicken and pork."

"Damn." Axel hissed, bit his tongue, and scrunched his face. He stared pensively into the half-empty refrigerator, tapping on a full gallon of 2 milk. "Okay, skip the Ramen. Unless you want some for yourself..."

"N-n-n-no!" Demyx stuttered, somehow delivering his insistence in such a quivering voice. "At this hour? I'll be up all night in the... y'know..." What a pansy the guy could be... Afraid even to say the word "bathroom". Axel could spit out "shitter" in a casual conversation with the Superior and think nothing of it.

"Fine, fine." Waving him off, the pyro scooted the milk aside, discovering a fresh bowl of strawberries hidden behind it. Wouldn't Marluxia love to wake up to an empty bowl? Hee. Smugly smirking, Axel snatched a piece of the succulent, crimson fruit and popped it into his cheek. Mmmm! They tasted just as sweet as they looked. Damn, Marly knew how to grow his fruit!

"What the hell are you two doing at this hour?"

"Ah!" Axel wiped a dribble of strawberry juice on his sleeve. "Roxas! Just in time, little buddy!" He slammed the refrigerator door without covering the strawberries back up. Jumping up to the short key-bearer groggily leaning on the kitchen door frame, he wrapped an arm friendlily around his green pajama collar.

"I'm not your buddy..." The bed-headed blonde leaned slightly away, feeling too tired to squirm out from under the way-too-close fire-bearer. "Get your hands off me." Axel's arm remained.

"Aw, lighten up, Rox." He playfully whined, twirling a stand of that gorgeous, spiky hair. "You should be more like Demyx. Young, energetic... Though you're cuter than he is by far."

Demyx thought he heard a record scratch as Roxas twisted his face at the flirty comment.

"... Yeah." Roxas threw off Axel's arm. "I'm just going to grab my orange juice and go back to bed." He shuffled across the white linoleum, jerked open the fridge and peered inside. No sooner did he spot the half-gallon of store-brand juice, did a pair of arms snake around his waist and a certain red-haired Nobody rested his head on the youth's shoulder. Electric chills pricked Roxas's entire body, locking his joints in place and flushing his cheeks.

"You should stick around, Roxy-Loxy." Axel nuzzled under his ear and purred. He could feel Roxas shiver, even though his face was warming with every drawling second. "Myx and I are going back to my room for some movie-watchin' and snackage. We'd love to have you come with us."

Roxas swallowed... Hanging out with two considerably older men would not just seem awkward. It seemed dangerous too. The way Axel flirted with anything that moved was enough to drive Number Thirteen away from fear of rape. Demyx didn't seem too horrible... but Number Eight was unquestionably bad news.

"Axel, I'm tired." The younger Nobody managed to choke out seriously without his voice cracking. Behind him, Axel was still nipping at his neck and blowing slow, warm breaths on his ear. "I just want to go back to bed."

"Mmm... You can always sleep in my bed." The pyro's hands slipped under the loosely-fitting pajama top, Roxas tensing under his touch. His long, slender fingers ghosted said blonde's stomach; the youth shuddered.

"Nn- Axel, I don't want to..." Gritting his teeth in defiance of the overly feely redhead, Roxas scrunched his face up. "Stop it. Please." Behind him, Axel puffed out an irritated sigh.

"Tease." He spat, releasing Roxas from the embrace. "You're still comin' with us, though. Conscious or not."

Oh. Shit.