Happy, happy, happiest reading, readers!


Cult

Roxas liked the way the sunlight hit Axel's face.

He liked the way the sun simultaneously highlighted and darkened ideal spots on his face, the way he bit off way more than he could chew, how he chewed; that thoughtful slow grind, the way he tapped his fingers absently when things got quiet during the day, how his shoulders were wide and looked really strong.

Roxas could look at his hair; which in the right light looked like it was burning, for hours, could gaze at his thin fingers and wider knuckles, at his neck; smooth and thick with tough muscle, Roxas could trace the features of Axel's face for hours on end and never bore of it.

Was this…love?

It was wasn't it?

The fluttering feeling of butterflies all the time, the shortness of breath, extreme sensitivity to even the slightest brush of skin, his wandering mind and shy glances perpetually finding the tall man; weren't these all symptoms from falling in love? Or were they causes?

Axel glanced up at him, nervous and maybe self-conscious, from his given spot inside the pottery tent. His hands were covered in wet clay, busily constructing some sort of…something while Roxas watched intently.

Roxas was beginning to worry that Axel was terrible at everything. He couldn't sew for the life of him, and the weaving patterns had all been to complex for him, even Roxas could do a few of them but somehow they just flew straight over Axel's head. He killed a small portion of Aerith's prized garden, pulling out brightly colored flowers instead of the weeds and thus damning him from having anything to do with the garden. Roxas had to plead with the brunette woman for Axel to even water the plants. How do you mistake carnations for weeds? Roxas couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

Leon refused to take the man for reasons Roxas didn't want to know and Axel had started sneezing profusely and coughing like something was stuck in this throat after just a few minutes with the animals. How do you not know that you're allergic to animals?

After every mishap, Axel gave him that same look. Glancing over every few seconds, an embarrassed grimace on his face as Roxas was told why exactly Axel would not be able to weave, garden, repair stuff, or raise the livestock or dye fabrics, or cook food, or even cut out patterns for the weavers to use. Every time when Roxas would look over, jaw dropped and blinking wildly, to confirm with the man that it was true, Axel would just look away, ashamed and confused himself, offering just a rise of eyebrows and a shrug for explanation.

So this time Roxas was coming along, so that maybe he could coax the redhead into not screwing up.

"Do you think I'm doing it right?" Axel whispered, worried crease in his brow. "I have no idea what she was telling me to do."

Oh… well. "I don't know," Roxas whispered, now growing worried. He was too busy listing the things he liked about the redhead that he forgot to listen when sister Tifa gave him an assignment.

They both glanced over in her direction. Even in her baggy dark earthy green tunic, they could see how strong her arms were, how her hands forced the wet earth to do her will.

Axel gulped. "Uhh, Rox--" To Roxas's delight Axel had started using the nickname Demyx had given him. "--what should I do?"

"Uhh, uhhh." Quick, quick! Think of something! Don't just sit there like a bumbling idiot while Axel may be yet again be ruining his one chance! "Uh, just--Just do your best?" …yeah, that was… okay-ish. "As long as you make something and at least try, she can't be mad at you," he whispered quickly. "Uh. I dunno; just keep doing what you're doing."

He was such a bad mentor.

Even though his advice was as vague as possible, Axel nodded, turning to give sister Tifa one more worried glance before returning o his pile of clay, molding it into something more recognizable.

He had really long hands. Almost spidery fingers, Roxas noticed. Even while covered in the gray clay, he could still see the veins that popped up, thick and carrying blood to and fro. They ran up his arm, disappearing under the sleeves Axel had rolled up. He was kinda tan, tanner than Roxas could ever be. He just burned and then faded into pale.

"Oh, Brother Axel!" Sister Tifa exclaimed from her spot behind the blond. "I just love what you're doing. You're good."

Roxas was shocked, Axel pleasantly surprised. "Really?

"Yes! You have natural talent in those hands of yours, bucko," she enthused and motioned to his creation. "May I?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, of course!"

"Yup, a natural…" she turned what looked to Roxas was a bowl of some kind in her hand, murmuring to herself. "Yeah, I like what you're doing. Real artistic quality..."

Beside her Axel felt a flush come to his face at her words. Artistic talent? Him? No way! But she kept saying the same thing over, telling him that he must, he must, he must work with her. Throughout the entire week all he'd been hearing was no, no, no from people, saying no he absolutely would not, would never, be able to work with them so this was a quite the pleasant change of pace.

Across from him, Roxas beamed, pleased with the outcome. Now Axel had something to do for the community. He might as well be officially sworn in. A thought occurred to him, making the already wide smile intensify. He will be an official member starting today.

"I'll see you tomorrow, brother!" Tifa called as they left the pottery tent at Roxas's insistence.

"Bright and early?" Axel called back.

She laughed, eyes scrunching up. "Bright and early."

"Do you think I can still help you out in the morning then?" He asked Roxas, who was smiling that secret smile again.

"Of course…I don't see why not," Roxas shrugged, sending him a sideways glance. "As long as you want to you're welcome. Do you still want to?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course I do," he replied and Roxas's smile turned even more upwards but Axel didn't really take note of it, Roxas always smiled. He was just a happy guy, had a happy life, had no reason to frown. He was just happy.

"Guess what we're doing today," Roxas slyly commanded.

The redheaded agent racked his mind, coming up with nothing fast. Everyday was similar to the last, a simple plan of wake up, help Roxas in the garden before going off to various places, mostly to visit Roxas's friends or to work places, and then to the clearing, where some of the younger members would play tag before supper. Such a simple life and Axel just followed Roxas's example most days and what Roxas didn't tell him, he didn't know. "What?"

Cobalt blue eyes twinkled. "Today the Wise Man is going to speak. It'll be your first time seeing him in action. You don't know real enthusiasm about the God above until you listen to the Wise Man speak. You'll finally get a good understanding and maybe get some answers to whatever questions you still have." His eyes and face held so much passion as he said this, truly excited by the prospect.

Agent Axel O'Hara narrowed his eyes the tiniest, smallest bit, unnoticeable to the blond, sudden hostility coming over him. The Wise Man, the prime suspect for the crimes alleged against the cult he infiltrated. He would be speaking? Like, preaching to them? What would he say? How would he act thinking he was among only admirers and followers? While thinking these sharp thoughts, he responded eagerly to the blond. "Really? Wow. That's… that's great! How many times does he speak, I don't think he has while I've been here."

The blond shook he head softly. "He hasn't. Only once a week, on Sunday. Last week when we went searching we had an early morning service instead, so it wouldn't be too much for you," Roxas explained. "But now that you've spent nearly week here, it's time to sit in on one of his speeches."

So that was it then… Giving service on Sunday like a priest or pastor. The Wise Man, aka, Ansem must really think he's the shit, Axel thought while following Roxas to wherever the blond was leading him. He'd only gotten little snippets of the new religion than ran rampant here, mostly from Roxas given the fact that Axel spent almost every single waking moment with the boy, but also from Aerith who gave little memorized quotes whenever one applied to a certain situation.

Everyone seemed to live by a common understanding that they all believed the same so no one really approached him trying to explain the cult's version of a bible and what it wanted him to do and how it wanted him to live his life.

"The evening bell should be rung soon, and then everyone will go to the clearing to listen," Roxas's voice shook the redhead out of his thoughts. Sure enough, the gong was hit, followed by several others, signaling that everyone should stop working and come back home for some relaxation and weekly brainwashing. While Roxas's back was to him, Axel scowled.

"So what are we doing now?"

Roxas looked at him surprised. "Oh, uh. We're going to meet up with Aerith and then find our newest brother and sisters. It's tradition," he shrugged.

The redhead absently made a noise to signal that he heard and followed without another question.

--

"Good evening, my sons and daughters," Ansem jovially called. Cheers and welcomes and hellos were called back to him, all from the two hundred some people gathered around.

Axel was among these two hundred, watching with less than happy eyes that flickered from the smiling brainwashed cult members back to the man in charge. He really was like a ringleader of a circus and these people were his audience, eagerly awaiting whatever trick he had up his sleeve next.

Axel too was waiting for these tricks, with a prepared eye to dissect and tear them apart.

"We have new sisters and brothers among us, I believe today will be their first service among us, as new people. Please, welcome them. They are another addition to our family and should be treated as such."

Another round of cheers and hollers came from the crowd around him, the closer members clapping him on the back or giving him cheerful smiles. Roxas squeezed his hand, sitting next to him and watching the man in white with rapt attention. Said man was smiling slightly, affectionately amused the people's friendly behavior.

"Now, my friends, please quiet. I would like to begin." Obediently, the pastel-wearing people silenced, eagerly waiting for whatever would happen next. "As is tradition, for our new brothers and sisters I would like to tell a story. It's a familiar one to the rest of you, hearing it every month or so. I'm sure you could recite it from memory," he mused. A gaggle of snickers, chuckles and giggles came from the crowd.

"But for you new sisters and for you new brothers; please listen. Years ago, my wife and I were walking home one winter afternoon, it was a cold night and the trees already had Christmas lights on them. It was peaceful and we were peaceful, content in being. Before then I never challenged anything in my life. I took it as it was and never once thought it could be changed.

"Twilight City, the city where many of you once lived, has been ravaged by all kinds of horrible things. As poverty rose, the crime rate rose and as crime took as turn for the worse, the death toll skyrocketed. One would have to go out of one's way to ignore what the city had become.

"On the night which I mentioned, my wife became another statistic. And I as well, to an extent. They were after her purse, the silly little thing, and when she struggled, a gun appeared in his hand and then my wife was dead. Just like that." The Wise Man snapped his fingers, a solemn look on his face. They way he told his story, strangely distant but passionate at the same time, transfixed Axel. It was like being at work again, listening to a witness tell his story. It was supposed ot be a said story but the wise man just told it like it was just…a fact.

"Moments later I was also shot but instead of fleeing the sinful and greedy world, I held on to my string of life. My heart stopped twice. And during those moments I had a vision." He stayed quiet for a moment, letting the words sink in. Axel spared a second away from the speaker to glance at Roxas and saw that he was listening with patient attention, nearly on the edge of his seat.

"I those moments where I laid in the in-between, not dead, not alive, I heard voices, speaking to me, calling me forward. And in a moment, I was seated in nothingness. I was in the middle of vast nothing. Across from me was man, a woman, its form kept changing with every second I stared at it. Once it even became my wife and spoke to me. It said;

"'Do you know why you're here?' I replied, scared, 'I am dead.' The creature shook its head and said again. 'Do you know why you're here?' In its patient voice, calming, soothing. But it made me angry. I thought that the creature knew the answer and was yet still asking the question, for amusement." Ansem smiled, amused at his own thoughts.

"I screamed at the monster, 'No, I do not know why I am here! Please enlighten me!' It smiled softly, switching its form to different faces, different races, by the second. Again, it looked like my wife. 'I know eternity; I know the stars' names. I know why you are here but it all means nothing if you do not.' Then it posed another question, as the edges of white nothingness started to turn black and enclosed on us. The creature, with my wife's face, asked me,

"Why do you exist?"

Axel had an itch right in-between his shoulder blades but he had the sneaking feeling that Roxas would smack him if he itched at it.

"At that moment the paramedic jump started my heart and a few days later I woke up in the hospital, my wife was dead and I was alone. The creature's words haunted me. Every moment of the day, I wondered; why do I exist? Why am I here? I started to question everything I used to ignore. Everyone around me, I noticed, was out for one another. They wanted what the other had and were willing to go to the end of the earth to get it. They held no compassion toward those below them, those who were struggling, and those who had nothing.

"Why did I exist? The creature left me with such questions that I didn't even know how to begin to answer. And then," he laughed. "The answer found me. I was walking down the same street where my beloved wife was killed and across from me, there was a large graffiti sign that said simply BE HAPPY.

"And I thought; that's it! That was the answer. Why do I exist? Why was I put on this world? To be happy and to love what I have and want nothing more. Isn't that why God created us? So that we may live? As a society, we have forgotten that we were just made to live and be content. In Twilight City it is obvious that greed has over taken everything we were once taught. People suffer. People chafe under the new rules of society, under the expectations. The obligations and choices that people are forced to take. Is that what who created us wanted us to have? Wanted us to do? The lord above wanted us to just be, and be content with that."

A murmur of agreement ran though the crowd, Axel noticing that it had been absolutely silent until now. Roxas gave one solid nod to Ansem's words. Was he really believing this guy?

"So I left the society, to get away from everything that soiled the world and reform myself. There was no place for me anymore and I no longer wanted to fight for one. And finally I just existed, here. And I was content. But I had friend who was not. She suffered under the cruel eyes of society and just wanted to go back, back to when she had no worries, nothing preventing her from being happy.

"So I let her stay here and together we realized that we couldn't just stay apart from the world while other people suffered. We wanted to help those who suffered. Because it wasn't enough to be happy ourselves, we needed to spread it. We needed to help those who were like us and suffered under everything that the world has become. Together we will go back to what we should be and stay there.

"That my new friends, our new sisters and brothers, is why you are here. You are here because in some way, you were unhappy and we could help. The god we serve; the one who spoke to me, just wants us to be happy and know why we exist. We are not here to suffer, or starve, be without shelter or be without love. That is why this place exists, as an alternative to the suffering, the pain.

"That is why we are here," he informed them, smiling softly. The crowd around him started clapping, Roxas included, and Aerith, who was next to Roxas, was also clapping demurely. Hesitantly, he also started in.

"Isn't he good?" Roxas whispered. "Don't you understand so much better now?"

In truth Axel didn't. He already knew that this place was like a getaway, and Ansem's admittedly sad story didn't tell him much more than he already knew. But Axel nodded his head fervently because that's what Roxas wanted to see. Ansem said what people wanted to hear, Axel realized. The blond man may have a good story but when it all came down to it, if you asked anyone on the streets if they wanted to leave to a fantastical place were they never had to worry about things like money, or health, or school, that person would jump on the chance. That was all Ansem was doing.

And people fell for it.

Ansem went on to say many more great things, about how it was their duty to spread this lifestyle and how they should always thank the god that put them here and strive to live the way it wanted them to live. He told stories about forgiveness, stories about greed and wrath, pain, but more so he talked about hope and love and how they all came together in the end. He was so moving, a very talented speaker, that Axel wanted to believe what he said, to forget and forgive, and just… he didn't know.

Ansem continued to talk about the meaning behind life until the sun began to set. Axel was quite sure that his butt fell asleep.

Finally, The Wise Man toned down, drawing to an end and still everyone held to their quiet, aptly listening. He even saw several people tear up, moved by his words so much. How much would a person have to suffer to gladly expect an invitation to isolation? How much do you have to go through to qualify?

The Wise Man called for prayer and, as if timed, everyone got to their knees, Roxas pulling the redhead down with him with surprising strength. "What do I do?" Axel whispered.

"Pray," the blond responded shortly.

About what? He wanted to ask, but could foresee an aggravated glare from Roxas so he stopped himself. Silently, he pressed his hands together as the blond did and lowered his head hesitantly.

He mentally replayed what Ansem said, about suffering, pain, and thought, I've suffered, I've been in pain, and I don't want to be here. I know something is wrong with the world but I don't want to completely desert it. I want to do something about it, change it inside out. Why should he stay here and do nothing while other people suffer?

He was so caught up in his own musings that he didn't hear when the people next to him silently stood, leaving him, and didn't even register that someone was closing in on him until he felt a hand on his shoulder, making the agent jump.

Ansem Wise looked down at him with kind and understanding eyes. He cupped Axel's face with his hands. "You have gone through so much," he said. "I can see it. So much suffering and so much pain… You have lost those you held dear and you still carry them inside your heart. You should not worry though; beyond the consciousness lies paradise and those that you have lost are among the others." He nodded sagely. Axel's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widened. How did he know this? "You must let go of the pain, Axel. Only then will you allow yourself to be happy. Acknowledge that you have no control over it and put it in God's hands. Worry about it no more and it will set you free."

Axel started, trying to jerk himself away but Ansem held tight. He looked into Axel's eyes. "You don't need to lie to yourself anymore. You will be okay."

And with that, Axel jerked out of the man's hands, pulling himself away harshly. He regarded the white haired man, fear and horror across his face. Ansem opened his mouth and Axel bolted, turning and crawling before standing upright and breaking into a sprint. He blindly ran, through the crowds of two hundred people, all dressed brightly, and smiles on their faces. He ran straight past Roxas, the young man calling out to him as he passed to no avail. The blond shared a worried look with Aerith before taking off after him.

Axel didn't know the layout of the little village. Every other large tent looked like the next, colors blurring. What the hell just happened? Wha-what?! How did--how did he? How did he know? Even the slightest bit? How did he know!? He just--right into Axel's soul and BAM! Sucker punch to the brain. HOW DID HE EVEN GUESS? Slowly but surly, he succumbed to a shaking mess, tears starting to blur his vision. How did he know? How did he know? He gripped the soft material of the closest tent to him, dry heaving.

What just happened? What just fucking happened?

Axel felt like he was going to puke.

The agent didn't know how long he stayed there, gripping the cloth while he tried to put his mind back together to no avail. It had gotten dark and he was cold but he didn't really give a shit. He didn't care just…how? How?

"Axel?"

He started; terrified for a second before realizing it was just Roxas, just Roxas.

"Axel! What's wrong?" The blond rushed to his side, hands gently rubbing his back and shoulders an age old comforting gesture. "Are you okay?" He murmured, as if they were in a room full of people and yet the conversation was just between the two of them.

Axel convulsed and tossed his cookies, Roxas making soothing noises and keeping his hair back. "It's okay, it's okay," he repeated. "It'll all be okay."

Tears pricked at Axel's eyes as he momentarily lost himself. Roxas petted his red hair and rubbed the knuckles of his other hand down and up Axel's back. "I don't feel so good," Axel muttered. Roxas hummed.

"I know."

"I really don't feel good."

"Do you want to go home?" Roxas meant his tent, Axel knew, even in his fuzzy state of mind. But Axel couldn't help but imagine his lonely apartment; his only company the plants and COMCAST TV. Being in Roxas's home, where people popped in everyday, happy to meet and greet was preferable right now. Axel nodded.

"Okay," Roxas softly said, light, calm, and agreeable. "Let's get you home."

Axel didn't remember the walk to Roxas's tent, only suddenly finding himself there and suddenly very cold. Jesus, when did it get this cold? His teeth chattered and he felt Goosebumps emerge all over him. In contrast, his head ached and burned.

"C'mon, big fella," Roxas urged. "Just go in and lie down, sleep it off. I'll stay right here until you fall asleep, don't worry."

He just wanted to sleep, wash it all away for a little while and forget, just forget. True to his word, Roxas stayed until Axel fell fitfully asleep. But even in his dreams, he couldn't shake it. Strange fever dreams haunted him, scaring him awake for short moments before falling right back to sleep. He never remembered them but they made his heart speed up.

During the night Axel went from being freezing to sweating to freezing to burning up while being freezing at the same time. He was hot but he had Goosebumps all over his skin. His body didn't seem to know what he wanted. This continued throughout the night, Axel shivering, sniffing, and generally being in discomfort. Roxas laid next to him the whole night, patting his hair down whenever Axel squirmed or deeply furrowed his brow, a frown on his young face whenever he was woken by the tall man's squirming. But Roxas didn't let himself get too worried. Sure, Axel was acting strange but The Wise Man had that affect on people sometimes. The blond just hoped Axel would be okay in the morning and dozed back into sleep.

However, in the morning, Axel was not back to his usual self.

By the time the sun lit up the cloth-covered tent and woke the blond, Axel was under three blankets but shivering profusely, sheen of sweat on his face. A frightened shudder ran up Roxas's spine as he felt the man forehead, feeling for a temperature like Aerith had taught him, years ago.

He was burning up.

Roxas immediately rushed to find his friend and sister.

--

"He has the flu," Aerith announced.

Roxas let out a long held breath, relief flooding him. Thank goodness, he thought. "But how did he get the flu?"

"Well…" she drawled. "Has he been near Demyx?"

The blond raised an eyebrow at her question. "Well, yeah. He came by the day before yesterday….I think. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Demyx is a magnet to all viral germs and diseases," she said with a nod. "He's sick with the flu too, has it real bad. Yuffie's taking care of him."

"Ha! Yuffie? Really? Augh, tell me when it's over. I can handle only one of them at a time. The both of them would kill me."

Aerith lightly laughed, shaking her head, loose locks flapping around with her. Roxas shook her awake, not even giving her time to tie her hair back, explaining the situation as they ran through the just waking village. "I try not to visit much."

Comfortable silence came over them, interrupted only by Axel's snores. "He'll be okay right?"

Aerith flapped a hand around, roller her eyes. "Oh, he'll be fine. Just plenty of rest and liquids. In a week or so he should be back to normal."

Roxas hummed, considering the new information. Axel had just found his place among them and he just went to his first service… Oh well, Roxas thought as Axel snorted in his sleep.

The day passed without much happening to Roxas, but he noticed that his garden duties were less entertaining than what he'd grown accustomed to, with Axel giving hilarious narrations of whatever came to mind. Whenever the blond went back home, Axel was soundly sleeping.

Actually staring at the man for hours became intensely boring and Roxas soon left to visit friends.

Even when the gongs were rung and people started to move to the clearing loudly, the redhead slept still, even when Roxas shook him hard, sure that he shouldn't be missing a meal, the man only blearily blinked at him a few times before stubbornly turning over. Vexed, Roxas went to dinner alone.

Finally, finally, finally by the time Roxas came back Axel was awake, sipping at cup of water the blond left out. The redhead blinked at Roxas's beaming face, slowly taking in the scene. Seeing that Axel was hardly keeping his eyes open, Roxas started the conversation himself. "Hey, Axel," he said softly. "How are you feeling? Any better?"

Axel sniffed. "I feel achy and tired... My head hurts."

Roxas pursed his lips. "Oh, yeah? Aerith said that would happen. You have the flu," he offered. "So you should stay in bed and drink lots of liquids."

Axel squinted at him, taking another sip. A moment passed between them.

"Are you hungry? You missed dinner."

Axel slowly massaged his temples. "…No. I'm not. I'm just…I'm tired. Is it okay if I go back to sleep?"

Shocked, Roxas bobbed his head rapidly, not used to the short quality of Axel's speech. Was that irritation lacing it? Not seeing Roxas's discomfort Axel just turned over, crawling under the blankets again, willing his headache to go away and fatigue to dissipate. He shivered under his clothes, Goosebumps on his heated skin. He heard Roxas shuffle about, trying to be quiet for him.

Had Axel been in less of a bad mood, or if he wasn't so out of it, he would have apologized for his standoff-ish behavior. But as it was, he was tired and his head hurt and his body just ached all over, and his nose was stuffed up and he couldn't breathe properly, so he didn't really bother to take too much notice to Roxas, only wishing he would quiet soon so he could go back to sleep and escape his physical nuisances.

But even in his dreams, Axel was being tortured.

Again and again, he was startled awake by terrifying flashes Lexaeus crumbling to the ground, clutching his stomach.

Fueled by his fever, the dream came in hot flashes; intense and vivid and seemed so goddamned real that he would jump out of fear and wake himself several times throughout the night. For several seconds he would pant and shiver, scorching and freezing at the same time before being lulled back into sleep to the same images, he could almost smell the rust smell of blood, hear the CRACK of the gun as the trigger was pulled and the bullet was making its way to his friend.

He saw again and again the fear Lex had in his eyes, how his eyes dilated and how he chocked on the blood that came up to his mouth. I don't want to die, I don't want to die! Please, please, Lord, I don't want to die.

Repeatedly, he dreamt of Lexaeus's face, filled with terror before just coming to a stop, expressionless in death. In his dreams, Axel flipped out, scared, crying, screaming, and pacing. He did this for hours, blood on his hands, and tasting fear in his throat. He dreamt the same thing the entire night and well into morning, only snapping out of it when Roxas, accidentally pouring water all over himself, screeched.

Axel started, snapping awake and flipping over fast, alert and bewildered, agent senses demanding to know what was going on in spite of his foggy state of mind. Narrowed green eyes locked with wide blue, the fast motion of what the blond thought was a soundly sleeping man startling him into a frozen state.

A long silence passed between them, Axel belatedly realizing where he was and who was next to him. Roxas held out the cup he was holding.

"Water?"

The next few days were much the same. Every time he closed his eyes he dreamt of the shot of the gun, Lexaeus leaping in the way of it and red, red blood pouring from the wound and his agonizing face became embedded in Axel's mind. Maybe it was Ansem's shocking words that got to him, digging up what he hid everyday and what he kept closest to him.

He dreamt of his mother as well.

And in every dream he dreamt of the car being hit, as if he was there with them, his mother's horrified face as her side of the car gave to the force in which the other hit it at. Detached, he heard screams, sirens, saw blood and pain but he focused on his mother's sleeping face, as he knew it from six years ago, blood trickling down her beautiful face, eyes closed, never to awaken again.

Somehow, it scared him even more than the actual crash itself. He kept… just seeing her face, the blood and he felt such dismal horror.

He slept more than not and when he was awake, he spent the time drinking cups of water at Roxas's assistance and blowing his nose on tissues Roxas told him not to tell anyone about.

One day he woke from another fever dream, more like nightmare, to a hand moving over his scalp, coming to the end and starting all over again, moving locks of hair this way and that, creating a pleasant tingling sensation. Sleepy, Axel opened his eyes, already digging the sleep out of one of them, to Roxas. Again the boy froze, as if he'd been caught stealing a cookie and looked down at him with wide eyes, which immediately looked everywhere except at the man. "Uh…Uh, you'd, you were having a nightmare. I was, uh, I was just trying to…um…" The blond trailed off, wincing at his own words.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to the redhead, a question he'd wondered about since he'd met the boy but strangely never thought to ask before now. "How old are you?"

Roxas blinked, somewhat relieved. "Uh…Twenty. I'm twenty."

Now it was Axel's turn to blink, confused. "Twenty?" He asked, nose stuffed up with mucus as it always was these day and distorting his voice. "But…you're just a kid. You can't be."

The blond snorted, annoyed but amused. "Well, I'm pretty sure of it, Axel."

"But…You're just…you just so tiny. You look like a kid."

"I'm youthful," Roxas mused, not insulted in the slightest.

"But…But I could have sworn you were only…only a kid, sixteen at best."

Roxas frowned, twirling a piece of bright red hair in his fingers. "No…"

While Roxas continued moving his fingers through his hair, Axel tried to think of something else to say, something else that had been on his mind and he'd never asked before. Surely, he had many, but now he couldn't think of a damn one of them.

"You know," Roxas started for him. "I was sixteen when I came here."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm. You wanna hear a story?"

"Does it have a happy ending?"

Roxas smiled, looking down at the man fondly. "Yes. Yes it does. But it starts out rather sad…pretty strange." Axel hummed, telling him to go on. "Four years ago, I was sixteen…and…My parents, they didn't, well, they weren't the most open people in the world. They knew only what they knew, ya know? They didn't…accept different things. It had to be one way or else."

"Sounds tough," Axel murmured, eyes closed under the pleasant tingling.

"It was," he admitted. "It was really hard. I felt like I had to be what they wanted me to be. And I felt trapped within that image. Especially when I knew that I had no place in that image. I was different and I knew it. Hey, Axel?"

"Hmm?"

"What would you say if I told you that I was kicked out of my house at the age of sixteen because I didn't like girls?"

Axel's eyes snapped open, meeting Roxas's patient eyes and calm, solemn face. Axel reminded himself that Roxas had done nothing but initiate friendship, basically brought him into Sunshine fields in the first place and helped him fit in more. Axel relaxed again, but remained just a bit nervous with this new information. "…I would say I'm sorry." Roxas's mouth tugged upward. "They really kicked you out?"

"Yup. They told me to get out and never come back. So I ran away to Twilight City. I always loved it when we took trips there. It seemed like the place to go…" Roxas sighed. "But I was a kid. I didn't finish high school, I wasn't even in school anymore, I couldn't get a job and I didn't know anybody. I lived on the streets."

"The streets are no place for a kid," Axel softly whispered.

"…Yeah. But by then I didn't count myself a kid." The blond laughed. "I was an adult. I only barely kept myself fed by doing disgusting things I'm not proud of. I didn't have a home. I lived under the tram stations when it was warm and wandered around the city during the day, trying to find something to do. What I was doing, where I was, just kind of faded when I thought to myself 'Okay, I want to get to the other side of the town, how do I do that?' I probably know the city better than people who live there," he chuckled.

"…I thought you said that there was a happy ending," the redhead said, feeling guilt. Here Roxas was, who actually lived on the street, who sold himself so he could eat, while Axel told lies about the life he didn't live. And Axel hated liars. What a hypocrite he was.

"There is," Roxas promised. "It was beginning to go into winter but Twilight City winters aren't so bad. Just gets cooler during the day but man, at night it gets down to the thirties. The night was the big problem, I was fine during the day with a sweater but I was scared I would freeze to death at night. Isn't that scary? That you might go to sleep one night and not wake up? To die in your sleep? It freaked me out, really bad. I broke into places, just trying to get away from the chill. I had to run and run to escape when they found me. I always evaded them though," he said with a fond smile.

"But I spent my days as I always did, just walking around, not really seeing anymore, just going. I just let my feet take me wherever. I didn't care anymore. About anything." And here Roxas smiled, as if in contrast to the statement. "And then Aerith saved me."

"Aerith?"

The twenty-year-old nodded, smile growing with the memory. "Yeah. I was at a crosswalk, wishing the light would change so I could just go and she grabbed my wrist just as I started walking. I got really pissed and shouted at her. It didn't faze her one bit. She just looked at me and said, 'You don't have to continue like this.' I shouted back at her, 'What do you know!?'" Roxas softly laughed, rolling his blue eyes. "And you know Aerith; she just said 'I know you're unhappy, I know you're hurt. And I want you to know that you don't have to be anymore.'"

Axel smiled a bit, seeing where things were going. "And so you came here."

"And so I came here," Roxas repeated. "And it changed my life. My parents rejected me but here everyone loved me anyway. They didn't care that I lived on the street for awhile, selling myself. They were just happy that I was here now. I was their 'little brother'. They became my family, a good family, the kind that looks out for each other and cares no matter what. No matter what, Axel. And no matter what, I'll be here for you too. I know it's only been week or so but really, Axel, I mean it."

Axel felt another stab, one he definitely deserved three times over. Fuck, Axel thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck. I'm such a piece of shit.

"I know, Roxas. Thank you." But was Axel being really honest? This kid's been though so much, he doest need me lying to him added to the list. "I'm really, really sorry you had to go through that."

"Yeah, but…it got me here didn't it? It was worth it."

Was it really? After the subject was dropped and Roxas was lying next to him, asleep and Axel was acutely aware that it was Wednesday, he thought about that. For people who have nothing, this place was a welcome relief, a reply to their brokenness. For people like Roxas, rejected by his own family, this place gave him everything he never had. The support, the love, the care. It was all here, waiting for someone else who needed to be patched up. Was this a crime?

Absently, Axel flicked on his wire. "Wire check, one, two. Anybody there?"

'Zexion here. Kairi and Adams are out. You okay? You sound weird.'

"Ahh, that. I'm sick. I have the flu. I'm actually surprised that I made it out here, I'm super dizzy now."

'You're sick? Are you okay? Well, what are doing about it?'

"It's the flu, Zexion," Axel deadpanned. "You can't do anything about. Just gonna wait it out."

'….Okay. Well, have you found anything?'

Axel sighed, running over what Roxas just told him, Ansem's speech, what Ansem said to him. "No. No, I haven't."

'Nothing? Nothing at all?'

"Nope." Axel clicked his tongue. "Nothing new anyway. I'll just keep my eyes open and keep looking."

'Sounds good, Axel. Keep care of yourself, okay? You don't sound good at all. Go get some sleep and drink lots of water.'

"Yeah, yeah."

'Do it…Hey, Axel. I just…I just want you know it's…boring around here-- without you.'

"Thanks, man. It's weird not seeing you everyday," Axel said, even though he hadn't put much thought to it. It did give him a little fuzzy feeling inside though, that Zexion would admit to missing him.

'Yeah…So, um, I went to see you're mom…dropped off some flowers for her and stuff.'

"Oh, yeah? You run into my dad?"

'…No. I didn't. I must have missed him.'

"Yeah well, he pretty much stalks the place so sooner or later you'll see him. Just, uh, just tell him I'm good, okay?"

'Yeah, I can do that.'

"Okay, well, I'm seriously about to fall asleep here," Axel laughed. "So I'm gonna go, alright?"

'Yeah. That's fine. Talk to you next week.'

And with that, the line was cut off, leaving Axel alone and shivering. He hurriedly made his way back to Roxas's tent, eager to warm himself up and go back to sleep. On the way, he thought about Roxas's speech, how he was so honest to the agent, how he really believed in Axel and really thought he was going to be his new brother. Roxas just gave and gave and gave.

Said boy was snoring soundly, covered in yellow and orange blankets all the way to his head, a testament to how chilly the nights could get. It probably wasn't smart for Axel to go outside like he was.

He shook Roxas awake.

"Wha--what? What's goin' on? What's wrong?" Roxas mumbled, squinting at him, tired but worried.

"My friend died," he said before he could talk himself out of it. Maybe it was the flu, messing up his judgment.

"What?" Roxas furrowed his brow, very confused. "What are you saying?"

"My best friend died, a few years ago. He was shot. I was with him."

"Oh. Oh, Axel. Axel, I'm so sorry." Gosh, Roxas thought, eyes wide. That's…terrible. That was horrible. To lose a friend, a best friend, that would be…terrible. Roxas tried to think what would happen if Aerith or Demyx died, if they were murdered. What would he do? "I am so sorry."

"Yeah, me too. He was good guy. He didn't deserve to die, Roxas. He shouldn't have died," Axel croaked out, a combination of his snot clogged nose and tightening throat. "He never did anything bad. He shouldn't've died."

Roxas crawled over to him, wrapping his arms around Axel's neck. "I am so sorry." The redhead shuddered under him, hiccupping with held sobs. Eventually, Axel gave out; hot tears spilling from his eyes and onto Roxas's yellow tunic, sobs racking his body. Roxas did the only thing he could, rubbed his back and petted his hair, hugging him all the while. Sometimes you don't need to be shushed or told it would all be okay. Sometimes you just need to let it all out.

And letting it out was clearly something Axel needed to do, eventually falling asleep exhausted and spent. Crying was one of the most exhausting things to do, Roxas knew. Axel would sleep okay tonight, all the pent up energy gone from him.

But Axel still didn't sleep well. He had the same dream, Lexaeus jumping in the way, crumpling to the ground, blood on his hands. All vivid details and intensity. But this time, when red, red liquid was rushing all over his expensive suit, in rivers, in floods, Lexaeus looked him straight in the eye and instead of seeing the fear of death in his eyes, instead of seeing regret, sorrow, Axel saw calm peace. Frozen still, Axel watched as Lexaeus's mouth moved, accentuating words and syllables.

"You know," the dying man said. "You don't have to live this way."

And Lexaeus died again in his arms, leaving Axel in the living realm and going to a place where he didn't have to worry and pain was nonexistent and sadness was unheard of.

---

Secrets.

Let's face it, everyone has them. Every single person on planet Earth holds something close to them, clutching it tight so no one will ever see what it is. It might be a memory, it might be a string of words, it might be something you weren't supposed to see, it might be one blissful night in Vegas, it might be dreams, hopes, a smile, a look, a thought you weren't suppose to think. There's one thing that connects all of these possibilities; no one is ever supposed to know about them.

It might take the fun away from a wild night, it might take the edge off the words that meant so much to you, it might dull a beloved memory, or finally break whatever fantasy you built around yourself if someone else knew about them. Whatever the case; for some reason you didn't want anyone to know them. But there's always that question floating around in your head; what if someone does? What if someone finds out?

Sora Davis didn't have to worry about that anymore.

His secret was found out.

In his line of work you don't keep secrets, secrets led to conspiracies, secrets led to dead agents and traitors; led to deserters and spies. Sora was good at his job, great even, until he started telling little white lies, until he started leaving out bits and pieces and then started flat out lying to protect his interests. Eventually though…they put it all together, the holes in his story were added up and he was pulled from the mission, literally.

He was interrogated for twenty hours by his superiors, every single one of them looking for signs of his betrayal and not even considering that maybe, just maybe, he might be innocent. Brutal questions, the slyest insinuations, clever minds seeing what he did and didn't react to and started back up accordingly. Everyone was quick to assume the worst.

But Sora didn't betray them. Did he? He just did what he thought was right at the time.

He didn't betray them.

He was just in love.

"Sora."

He looked up; head heavy with fatigue and pounding from the most recent hit. He could taste the blood in his mouth, was it from his nose or did one of his teeth come loose? His left eye was swelling fast, soon to hold a gruesome shiner but he could still make out the director of the Destiny Isle branch of the FBI, the branch he belonged to. Seven months…had it really been seven months since stepped foot into his headquarters? Had it really just been seven months since he was assigned the mission?

It felt like a whole other lifetime. For him it almost was.

Little droplets of blood fell from his mouth as he spat, "What."

"I'll ask you again," the director said calmly, clearly not affected by the beaten and bloody state of one of his best agents or by his clear lack of regard for his boss. "Are you involved with the Spades, more than your assignment calls for?"

Yes. "No."

The director narrowed his eyes and Sora met them with fierce determination, willing innocence into his eyes. "What is your relationship with Riku Azzara?"

He said he loves me. "We fucked," Sora laughed, lungs aching at the effort. The ropes tying him to the chair chaffed at his chest. "It was disgusting. But it got me into the inner circle of the Spades. If I didn't then we would have an eighth of the information we do now. Like I've been telling you," he snapped. "Everything I have done was for the sake of putting this oversized street gang down." The gang is Riku's -our- family. It's not a crime to be a family.

"Who is Riku Azzara to you?"

My lover, my friend, my blood brother. Sora wheezed out another laugh. "Nothing."

The director stared down Sora, the much younger man staring right back, not wavering for a second. Finally the old man spoke. "If no have no connection to him then, Davis, why don't we cut your mission to an end--" Sora's eyes widened the smallest fraction while his mind was screaming scathing remarks. "--As you said, we have eight times the information we were hoping to receive. It's enough to condemn them all; we have the proof, dates, times, meetings. And you know all of it. So where is Riku Azzara now? Where is the next shipment coming in? Where is he going to meet them? Prove your innocence and prove that you have no lasting allegiance with them."

When it came down to it all, Riku was a drug dealer, an arms dealer, selling some smack to kids and shooting down anyone who dared to cross him. He was a menace to society, he was a monster in human skin, he killed and held not even a twinge remorse for the life lost. It was Sora's job to bring people like him down. But--

"Well, if it isn't my favorite little minion," he joked, leaning back in the expensive leather chair, feet on the expensive cherry wood table. "I've been thinking about you all day."

"Hey, there Gorgeous," he smiled, all white teeth and shining eyes.

"Hey, you know what?" He asked, trapping Sora--Sky-- with those eyes of his. "One day I'm gonna get out of here and…I dunno. Go to Hawaii or something. Always wanted to do that. I'll take you with me. I'll need a minion to do my laundry," he laughed.

"Sky…Listen to me," he begged. "Please, please, please. Please listen to me." When the brunette didn't say anything but didn't run either, he came from behind and tightly hugged the boy, nuzzling the area where Sky's neck met his shoulders. "Please stay."

"I love you, Sky," he whispered into deep brown hair.

"I don't need any one but you, Sky."

"Mmmm, Sky. Right there, right--- Ah, yes!"

"Do you love me, Sky?" He was crumbling, Sky could see it. Desperation was at the edge of his voice, panic at the edge of his expression. Riku was starting to crumble, just because of him. It gave Sky the smallest of pleasures, seeing it. He knelt down and kissed his worried eyes, then on the middle of his forehead.

"Of course, Riku. Of course," Sky confessed.

--he had to. Sk--Sora had to.

Please forgive me, Riku.

He told them everything.

The official report read like Sora was a victim, fallen captive to the intelligent mind of one of the Spades' finest, staying as loyal to the bureau as he could in the environment. The agent feared for his life and safety and so they called the mission short. That was what everyone knew, except for a very, very select few who only looked past the obvious truth because he their best and brightest and they couldn't afford to lose him. Not even Kairi Freah knew the truth. She only knew what the report said.

And to some point that report was fairly true. Riku made him forget who he was, made him into a real Spade, made him lose focus on the mission so many times. For those seven months he wasn't Sora Davis, he was Sky Porter, 'minion' to Riku Azzara also doubling as his lover. He started to believe in the morals that Riku lived his life on, he saw the poverty the people lived in and felt rage against his own government for it.

But he was a coward and he saved his own skin. If he didn't, Sora knew, he would have died. They would have killed him. …He didn't, he didn't want to die… Sora would do anything to survive when it came down to just that. The only thing that saved him was the information that Sora had; the actual evidence against him was staggering. They would have killed him for treason for his actions. Riku probably would have done the same, Sora thought. I betrayed him too…

Riku was presumed dead.

The building he was in exploded. He was incinerated. Nearly every Spade was arrested. Most were tried as guilty and will spend their lives in jail. Some were given the death sentence.

The time he spent with Riku, the words he said and the things he did, that was his secret. He would never tell anyone the truth; it was his precious secret that he held close. His memories.

No matter what anyone thought, said, or gossiped about, his memories wouldn't change, the words that were said wouldn't change, the looks he memorized wouldn't change. Riku Azzara would never fade from his memories.

Riku Azzara was his secret. His one demon. The man haunted him. Sora hoped that it would never change.

---

"Sora!"

The newly reinstated agent looked up, startled. What he saw caused a wide smile to take over his face. Selphie Tilmitt was bounding down the halls, literally skipping toward him. "Sora!" She cried as she reached him, jumping up to hug him tightly. "Sora, Sora, Sora! Oooh! I've missed you so much! I would have came around to see you tomorrow but I was stuck in the lab, running fingerprints for one of the million cases they deem are 'urgent'." She rolled her eyes, major exaggeration behind the action.

Sora laughed, heart feeling lighter than it had in awhile. "Hey, Selph. Long time no strip search."

"Why can't you just let that go?! It wasn't even a strip search," she argued. "You had evidence on your clothes. I needed it. So I took your clothes. No searching included."

Sora rolled his eyes, grinning. "Yeah well, you could have warned me before you started pulling off my shirt. I was vaguely scared."

"By what? I'm five flat to your five-nine. I can't do nothing." As Sora opened his mouth, prepared to explain once again that he thought she was jumping him at the time, she held out her hand. "Ya know what? Let's skip this aaand fast forward to the part where we go get coffee?"

"Ah, not today Selph," he grimaced as he smiled apologetically. "I've had a hard day, I just want to go home and sleep."

Her bubbly demeanor faded. She solemnly kept her gaze to his polka dot tie. "I know, I heard. Kai's all the way in Twilight Town…and King was promoted… I'm sorry, Sor. This must be so--"

"It's not--"

"Let me finish!" Her annoyed look once again turned into something softer and caring. "If you need anything, and I mean anything, I'm here. I don't give a shit about what happened. I'm your friend Sora. And that'll never change."

Sora regarded her. Dressed in her usual yellow dress with her white lab coat over it, like usual. It was as if time stopped here, like a year didn't really pass while Sora went through the motions again. She was the same and she didn't care that maybe he wasn't the same person she knew. She just wanted to be his friend again.

He smiled. "I know, Selph."

They shared a look, one of those gazes where it's like the other person can see straight into you via the eyes. He would say so much was said silently in that second but in all honesty, Selphie was probably racking her brain for something cheerful to say while he absently counted how many barrettes she had in her hair.

There was something to be said about returning someplace. On one hand, you're shocked by the things that stayed the same and on the other you're frightened by the things that changed. It would never go back to being how it used to be nor would it be an entirely new experience.

You could only hope that things would have some sort of medium, a little of this for a little of that, tit for tat, that whole thing. It was nonsense to wish for anything more or anything less.

His superiors were one thing that changed. Instead of looking on him fondly as one of their top agents, they looked down at him, knowing the truth and barely holding scathing tongues in. It was one thing he would like to change.

The new agents, fresh from recruitment and training, looked at him with awed eyes, seeing him as the man who single-handedly took down the Spades. They stuttered when they spoke to him or flushed red. He could do without them.

His desk was in the same place, all of their desks were in the same places. But his fellow field agent was miles away in Twilight City and his superior officer had been promoted to even more high profile tasks. Sora had a new partner, whom he hadn't actually seen yet, and would be taking care of smaller, menial missions instead of what he was used to.

He'd done it before, he could do it again. And he was prepared to. There was nothing left for him to do, but to climb the ladder again and hope he wouldn't fall.

Sora sighed as he shut his car door; it would take years to earn his spot back. But, what else could he do? He'd already gone through the training and the tests and he waited a year to get back to the job he once loved. He had the instincts for it, his body prepared to run after a suspect in a moments notice, hands used to holding a gun, fingers used to pulling the trigger. He couldn't do anything else.

He didn't want to do anything else, he reminded himself. He was an agent through and through. As he walked up his dark blue town house door, Sora took out his keys and flipped through them absentmindedly until finding the correct key. Why did he have so many keys in the first place? How many did even use? The house, the car, the safe holding super rare baseball cards, he ran the list through his head as he pushed in the key.

The door swung open with the force.

His eyes narrowed, senses all running alerts, lights flashing in his head. Someone broke into his town house, why; Sora didn't know. Besides the cards, which no one but him and his geeky self knew about, he didn't have anything worth stealing. The lock wasn't broken in anyway and the door itself was fine. There was no forced entering. Someone was talented enough to pick his expensive lock.

Sora upholstered his gun, taking it off safety. He was taking no chances.

Breaking into an FBI agent's house, pfft, he thought. They wouldn't know what fuckin' hit them.

He pushed the door open with a swift kick, gun pointed into the foyer. There was only one way to go from here, up a few steps and then take the right that led into the main floor, a combination of a kitchen area and his living room. Straight across from the opening to the main floor were the stairs that led to the second floor. Sora cursed whatever idiot designed this place; he would be more or less in the open after he took that right, with only a few seconds to scan one area for danger before the next. In those seconds if the robber spotted him before Sora could see him and if the robber had a gun, Sora would be full of holes.

He calmed himself, pressed against the wall, gun parallel to him. He took one more breath, listened intently for any movement, none, before digging his right shoulder into the wall, turning himself fast into the opening, prepared to shoot should the robber be stupidly standing fright at the opening to the foyer.

In front of him was his minds' demon.

Riku sat on the fifth stair before him, in one hand his telltale M9 and in the other a simple picture frame. Several other frames were sitting around him, giving him an audience even though they were inanimate objects. In the barest of seconds, the brunette glanced them all over. Was it a shiver if fear that passed through him when he saw that they all held pictures if him? A bottle of Bourbon was sitting next to his left foot, the one that Sora kept underneath his jeans, untouched. It looked half-empty.

Sora pointed the gun at his head unwavering. Silently, he flicked his gaze over to the kitchen area, never taking his gun off Riku.

"No one else is here," Riku said quietly. Tenderly, he fingered the glass of the frame, stroking it with care. A tiny, tiny smile tugged at his lips.

Nevertheless, Sora briefly regarded the living room. It was in shambles but Riku was telling the truth, no one else was here. It was just the two of them.

He was terrified.

Half because Riku was ten times the better gunman than he and half because he believed the other man to be dead and seeing his familiar face made his knees weak, made his heart pump much faster than it should, pumped up on adrenaline and fear. It took all he had to keep his hands from shaking as he pointed his issued gun at the silver haired man.

Riku was alive. He survived the building, or was he ever there in the first place? It didn't matter. Riku found him. And if Riku found him then that meant that he knew everything. Riku Azzara never did anything without doing his homework first. Sora kept the emotion, the fear, the panic, and the relief, off his face, regarding him coldly. He took one step forward. "What are you doing here, Azzara?"

Riku said nothing, still gazing at the frame, running a finger over one spot over and over. Eventually, he spoke to the picture. "I thought you were dead." Now he finally regarded Sora, ignoring the gun pointed at him entirely and focusing on his face, closing in on dark blue eyes. His strong jaw quivered. "I thought you were dead, Sky. But I never gave up hope. I looked for you, every day. I looked for you every single god damn day." He laughed, one single uplifting exhale of breath before looking back at the picture, stroking it again. "I never thought you would be right under my nose the whole time."

Sora took one more calculated step forward. "What are you doing here? How do you know where I live?"

"I looked for you, every day. I never thought, I never thought…" he was growing frustrated, brow furrowing in while his mouth pursed. Sora paused, still as could be, gun trained right between Riku's eyes. The handgun clasped in his right was Riku's favorite; he was a master with it. He could flick it up and shoot Sora dead in several seconds. Sora's still form caused Riku to look up again, expression clearly confused and anxious. He noticed Sora's eyes flicking to his right hand and turned to look at it himself. He softly smiled.

"I thought I saw you, this morning. Coming from this house. I tried to chase you down but you were… gone. I waited until a few hours later, just 'skulked' around," he softly smiled a bit more. "And then I grabbed my gun and came here. Your lock is too simple, I could pick it in my sleep," he added, smiling a bit wider, desperate. "You might want to fix that."

"Why are you here, Riku?" Sora asked, hardness in his voice.

His smile saddened, perked up, then lessened into a frown, and then again shifted into a sad smile. This indecisive way about Riku almost made Sora smile. Riku struggled with his words, deep furrows in his brow as he thought and warred within himself. "I think…I think I was going to kill myself," he admitted, looking up at Sora, eyes wide with confusion, relief, happiness and sadness. "If you weren't Sky." He laughed that sad, desperate laugh. He looked like he was going to cry. "I looked for you, for an entire year. You don't know how happy I am, Sky." Riku bit down a strangled sob, smiling hopefully.

"My name is Sora."

Riku's shoulders shook. "I know. I looked you up." He turned his teal gaze back to the picture. "Sora means sky in Japanese. Very clever."

"I don't think… you understand Riku," Sora said carefully, wary. "My name is Sora Davis, Sky Porter doesn't exist."

"I know." It came out as a strangled sob. "I know. I know, I know, I know. I know everything. I never thought, not for one second…"

"Put your gun down Riku. And slide it over to me. "

Riku laughed. "You set your gun down, Sky." Teal locked with sapphire. "You never were too good a shoot." With a wry smile, he held up the pistol. Sora tensed, finger at the trigger. Instead of firing, Riku unlocked the barrel, one lone bullet falling out. He obediently tossed it over. For a silent moment they regarded each other, Sora couldn't place the expression on the other man's face. "Go on, Sky. If you're gonna shoot me, shoot me." He patted his chest, right over his left pectoral. "Right here. Please. Please Sky." He looked beseechingly at the reinstated agent. "Sky, do it. If anyone, I want it to be you."

Sky. Sora faltered; mind warping and heart beating fast. Could he really shoot Riku?

He lowered his gun.

Riku shook again, fighting down cries. The picture slid away as he ducked his head between his knees, shoulders shaking. Sora saw that it was a picture solely of him, smiling wide into the camera. Riku drew in wet gasps, sniffling hard. Hands in his light hair, he looked again at Sora.

"I forgive you," he sobbed. "I don't care. I forgive you. I--you don't know how much-- I looked for you every day. I don't care what you're name is or who you work for, you are the only person I need, Sk--Sora," he fixed, glancing up at the man. The brunette started shaking his head wildly, lock flopping around. Riku grew hysterical. "Please! Please, please, please, please listen to me, Sora. I'm begging you. Sora, please." At this point the silver haired man descended the stairs quickly, stumbling and crawling the rest of the way to the agent, gazing up at him with frenzied hysteria and pleading eyes. But Sora shook his head again.

"No."

Riku's heart shattered, he could feel it. His soul was weeping. He never gave up, he looked every singe day.

Sora let the issued gun drop to the floor, falling to his knees. He was shaking, like he'd wanted to since he first saw Riku sitting on his stairs, every part of him a combination of relief, fear, confusion, loneliness, guilt, want and needs. Sora was halfway to hysteria too. Dark blue eyes searched teal, hope and love back in place, right where they should be. Right where they belonged.

"Call me Sky."


OOOOOH. DID YOU SEE THAT COMIN'?? DID. YOU. SEE. THAT. COMIN'? If you did then you are a freaky pyschic and what's my favorite color? This is twenty pages!!!! unformatted, that is. 26 if you cound the spaces FF forces me to put in. but you get the point, its long. longest I have ever written. and i am happy to say we are on the boat and it's takin off! unfortunately, our voyage will be delayed 'cause i'm gonna put up SB next. I love writing both of them but i hate doing this back and forth 'cause I just get on the inspiration train and then i have to leap onto another one ya know? crazy stuff.

[EDIT] This is now edited.

Review plz. i'm not too sure about axel's thinkning process. it's all over the place sometimes, contradicting and whatnot. does it flow? did you like the sora/riku thing?