A/N: Yes! I was just waiting for today to come. I'm pacing myself and putting this up once every week. And today's the day! So I'm very excited to post this. This chapter is from Axel's POV. That's how the story's going to be posted: One Roxas POV every five chapters. So expect a Roxas-chappie in Ch. 6. Please enjoy!

Empty

By: Reminiscent

Chapter Two: Reasons to Forget

He woke, gasping and sweating, his sheets tangled around him. Dread filled him. Something was horribly off. He stood and took in his room. Nothing was moved, or had been moved since he'd fallen asleep last night. Sighing, he figured it had been a remnant feeling of a bad dream, and nothing more. He laid down again, trying to fall back into sleep. He failed miserably and stumbled into the shower.

When hecame out, much more awake, he checked his clock. He had five minutes before the laram would go off. He slumped into the chair next to his window. He vaguely wondered why he hadn't moved it back downstairs to the table where it belonged. It had always been set by the window, so that when someone came in through the window, late at night, they'd step on the chair instead of falling into the room, waking up everyone who slept downstairs…namely his parents, baby sister, and older brother. Not a very good idea. Then said creeping person would crawl into his bed, and they'd snuggle before having some fun—so much for vague.

The thoughts of having someone wanting to forsake sleep with him, though, didn't leave. They stuck. They taunted. They whispered, "You miss him, you want him, you need him to come in through that window right now, but you know he won't because you screwed it up."

'No,' he thought back to the whispers, 'He hurt me first. It's only fair that I hurt him, too.' Long ago, he'd figured he sounded more self-righteous than childish whenever he thought this way. He was right. He had to be right.

It didn't help, though, when the person who had hurt him so badly was his next door neighbor, and he had to leave early so he wouldn't be caught by him. He observed the house next to his, watching a woman (his mother) make coffee before heading upstairs to kiss her sons goodbye. She always did that. It was annoying as hell. He wished his mother would do that. He watched her through the other house's windows. He noted that his window was open. He saw the door open, the light from the hall shining in…and then she was screaming.

"Roxas! Roxas! Oh my God, Roxas! Baby, come on, wake up…wake up, for God's sake, wake up!" She was screaming for her husband, then, and his twin brother, crying for them to call 911. What was going on?

"He threw on a wife beater, a hoody, and a pair of torn jeans all at once as he scrambled down the stairs. His parents were awake, hurrying to dress as the screams continued. The baby wailed in distraught. He ran out of the house, his father and brother close behind. Other families were drawn to the house, the window still open and the shrieking mother still as loud as ever. An ambulance rushed down the street, lights flashing. Its sirens could not drown out the crying of the mother upstairs. Within five minutes, as he stood outside, refusing to go in because he knew he was in there, the paramedics were running back out with a boy on a stretcher, and then he was screaming, too.

The bleach-blonde hair and both wrists were coated in blood, and the deep blue eyes were open and unseeing. He was probably on death's threshold, by the look of it. He would most likely die before they made it to the hospital. It was probably too late. Most likely. Nearly guaranteed. But hadn't he wanted this? For him to die? If he did, why was he screaming? Why were there tears in his eyes for a boy he hadn't known for a year yet?

Maybe because eight months couldn't be erased in the time span of one.

Oh, this was embarrassing. Boys weren't supposed to cry, ever. And here he was.

"Wake up!"

Flash Back

"You awake yet?"

"Nn…yeah…"

"You…you remember what we did?"

"Last night?"

"Uh-huh."

"Hell, yeah."

"You think…maybe…we could do it again?"

"Like, right now?"

"Uh-huh."

"You didn't have to ask, stupid. I want you just as much as you want sea salt ice cream."

"That's not possible."

"Why not?"

"Because I want you more than I want sea salt ice cream."

"Well, I guess the jury had decided, and court is adjourned."

"Hormones vote yes?" He grinned, lifting a hand to touch his face softly, pushing back the locks that hid his eyes from him.

"Oh, they vote yes."

Now he was back in his room. He was looking for the picture. The one from the summer, at the ice cream parlor. When he found it, he blinked and looked at it hard.

He was the only one in the photo. Roxas was missing, and in his place was a little white thing stained with blood.

A/N: Oh, no! What's happening? Dear God, that was cheesy...yeah. This chapter took ten days to write. And it's four notebook pages long. I'm am so sad (from 4/15 to 4/25). Yes, I wrote this chapter way back in April. Yes, I know it's a bit...stale...but you still like it, don't you? (Insert watery puppy eyes) Review, and you...save a monkey!!