It had been well over a month. No one had ever been away on a mission this long before. It was mid-way through February and everyone assumed Xigbar was dead, everyone expect Demyx who maintained Xigbar was alive as firmly as he maintained they had hearts.

"Demyx, what are you doing?" asked Axel, sticking his head into the shooting range.

"Make sure everything's clean and working," replied the Nocturne.

"Why?"

"For when Xig gets back."

"Dem," said Axel, trying to be gentle.

"He's coming back, Axel," said Demyx fiercely.

"Sure, Dem, sure," said Axel rather sadly as he left Demyx to it.

When Demyx appeared in the lounge later that day, he found Axel muttering to Six, who listened and then approached the blond.

"Number IX," he began. "I believe it is time you stopped acting in such a childish and human manor."

"Yeah?" said Demyx almost aggressively. He had been uncharacteristically moody and dark since Xigbar had vanished.

"Firstly, you do not have emotions, so stop behaving as if you do. Secondly, number II is not coming back. He's dead."

For a moment it seemed Demyx was going to control himself.

Then he exploded.

"Number VII," said Demyx, jumping to his feet, "I believe it's time you stopped acting like such a superior ass. Firstly, if I didn't have emotions, would I be this pissed at you? Secondly, He's. Not. Dead!" Demyx shouted at the top of his lungs.

A ringing silence followed the explosion.

In the silence a slight sound was heard off in another part of the castle.

"I think someone just RTCed," said Axel in a small voice.

"No one's on a mission," said Six, regaining his usual, bossy composer.

"Yes they are," breathed Demyx. For a moment he just stood there in shock, then he tore out of the room as fast as he could.

The blond flew down corridors, skidded around corners, banged open doors, his heart racing, his blood pounding in his ears. Finally, he slide around a corner and what he saw cause him to slam into the wall and he nearly fell over.

"Oh god," he gasped.

Moments before he had been picturing tearing around a corner, finding himself face to face with Xigbar and flinging himself into the older man's arms. Sure, the Xigbar in his imagination was tired and a little the worse for wear, but he was running to meet him, holding him tightly.

Demyx could only stare, horrified.

It was Xigbar, alright, and he looked about as close to death as anyone still standing possibly could.

"Told ya I'd come back," he muttered with a weak and pained smile.

"Xiggy."

"Hey Dem." Xigbar collapsed on the floor.

"Xiggy!" cried the Nocturne, running to his side. "Xiggy! Xiggy? Are you Okay? Can you hear me?"

Xigbar did not respond.

"Oh god. No, no. Xiggy."

This was just too much.

Xigbar seemed to have fallen unconscious. Demyx could just barely see his chest rising and falling; his breathing was shallow and uneven. His coat was ripped and stained with dirt and blood. His hair had fallen from it's usually ponytail and was matted with clotted blood. In fact, he was just about covered in blood, both dried and fresh. His already scarred face was cut in several places and his right arm was at a very strange angle. Xemnas had been right. Any other man would have been killed on this mission.

"Xiggy. Come on, Xiggy. Don't- don't leave me." Demyx could feel tears leaking from his eyes and saw them falling onto Xigbar as he pulled the dying man into his arms.

"Holy-!" cried Axel, appearing around the corner. "Is he-?"

"No," said Demyx quickly. "Go get help. I can't move him by myself."

"Right."

The next twelve hours or so seemed like an eternity to Demyx. After he had followed Xaldin and Lexaeus, who had carried Xigbar to Vexen's lab, he could do nothing besides sit in the hall and wait. The others came and went, asking him how it was going, seeing if he was alright, occasionally offering him food or telling him he should sleep. However, he never had any answers nor would he allow himself to be removed from the floor beside Vexen's door. He would remain as close to Xigbar as he could.

Finally, long after Demyx was sure he could take it no longer, the door slid open and Vexen appeared. Demyx scrambled to his feet.

"Well?" he asked breathlessly.

"He's not going to die," said Vexen curtly. "But it was a close thing."

"Vexy!" cried Demyx, flinging his arms around the scientist.

"Number IX, get off me!"

"Sorry, sorry." The Nocturne backed down. "So can I see him now?"

"He's sleeping, but I don't think it would hurt. Just be quiet and if he wakes up, don't let him get excited, alright? I'm going to get some food and some sleep. Call me if anything happens."

"Okay Vexen."

Vexen sighed with exhaustion and started off down the hall.

"And Vexen," Demyx called after him.

"Yes?" he asked, turning back.

"Thank you."

The scientist nodded and headed off.

Demyx moved quietly into the lab.

There was Xigbar, asleep under a white sheet. He was a bit cleaner now, though his hair was still a complete mess. Demyx hoped he wouldn't have to cut it off; Xigbar was very partial to his hair. The Freeshooter was heavily bandaged, but he looked peaceful enough.

"Hey Xiggy," said Demyx softly as he pulled a stool up to Xigbar's side and perched atop it.

Xigbar did not respond. Demyx knew this was a good thing now and sighed happily as he watched his love sleep.

After a while, Demyx climbed down off the stool, which he had already been falling off, and curled up on the floor beside the bed and fell asleep, too tired to maintain his watch any longer.