Warnings: Boylove, swearing, violence, mentions of anorexia, self harm, paedophilia, and of course, the horrible butchering of Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy characters.

Pairings: AkuRoku, Zemyx, XigDem, MeganxSeifer, some MarVex, possibly Cleon later on... what? I'm a fangirl, so sue me!

This is my first fanfic, so if you guys hate it... well, I don't blame you. Feel free to flame me, but just so you know, every time you flame a fanfiction, a chocobo dies...

Oh, and I don't own these characters, which is probably for the best, since I would do things to Axel that would... ANYWAY, on with the story!

Megan

Naminé eventually went home after a movie and some food (she ate quite a bit, actually), and me, Demyx and Roxas all sat on the couch, watching Nickelodeon. There was orange juice and Oreos (I probably shouldn't have given Demyx any; I doubted he'd be able to get to sleep, especially since Dad had taken the last of his pills and the Moogles wouldn't prescribe us any more until the last prescription officially ran out next week) and slapstick violence on the TV, and everything was sort of... content. Demyx sat in the middle, an arm around Roxas in a typical big brother gesture, and his hand covered mine, silently telling me that everything was okay. For all his naivete and bouncy, happy-go-lucky Demyxishness, he was actually really good at being a big brother.

"Megan," Demyx said to me, eyes still following Spongebob around the kitchen of the Krusty Krab, "I'm not sleeping too well at the moment."

"I know, Dem, and I know you can't have any sleepy pills until next week either, can you?" I asked. The only thing with Demyx is that there is a thin, thin line between meeting him on his own level and patronising the shit out of him. After years of practice, Roxas and I had learnt that his medication was always referred to as "sleepy pills", but that he knew the full name for DNA and could pronounce it correctly without even stumbling, that he could read a play like it was a text message but completely missed all the political or religious subtext, that he had a wicked right hook but never, ever, EVER used it intentionally, and that any time was time for a snuggle. It wasn't hard to notice that he was more protective of his sitar than his wallet, and that he'd give anything for a David Bowie CD, but it took some real effort to actually spot that sometimes he needed reminding of the simplest things – how to tie his shoelaces, on one occasion, which scared us because we thought he might be regressing or something – and that, while he could factorise equations instantly the moment it was explained to him, he didn't know how to add large numbers together without the little diagram thing they teach you when you're five. In short, he was what Roxas liked to call a very stupid genius.

"I wish I could get some sleepy pills, Meg," he said miserably, his head tilting to the side and his eyes squinting as Squidward continued to be a douchebag to Spongebob. "I feel tired, but every time I get into bed I just can't stop thinking and..."

"We know, Dem," Roxas sighed, shifting a little under his brother's arm. "You can have some more pills next week and then you'll –"

He stopped when Demyx clapped a hand to his forehead. "I just lost the game!" he cried. Both Roxas and I groaned.

"I hate you, Demyx!" His water-coloured eyes grew wide and I could almost see tears on their way out. "Oh, crap. Dem, I didn't mean it."

He relaxed again, and the living room was filled with random Spongebob noise once more. We didn't look away from the TV screen when the door opened, knowing who it would be.

"Hey kids! Good day at school?" We acknowledged Dad with a nod each and I think Roxas grunted. I felt myself fidgeting even though I wanted to stay still and unnoticeable. Was this one of those magical, incredibly rare days, when Dad was sober, in a good mood and at home – all at the same time? I could count on one hand the number of times that that had happened this year. It was thoroughly unnerving and unfair on Demyx, who always got his hopes up that maybe things were changing and we were all going to be much, much happier... and then Dad would turn around and start yelling again. Every freaking time. And every freaking time, Demyx's heart broke.

And so did mine and so did Roxas's, but we wouldn't let it show.

"Dad," Roxas piped up, moving away from Demyx slightly, "there's this party at the weekend, and we were wondering if –"

"A party? Really?" God, Dad was even domineering and dickheaded when he was having a good day. "Well, Demyx can look after you both, I guess..."

"Yeah, I can." He practically shone with pride at being the one "in charge" for a change.

"Great. So, no drinking –"

"But what if we get thirsty?"

I looked over at Roxas, who looked kind of uncomfortable. I couldn't blame him. You try and explain to Demyx that there are some things in the world that people really, really love, but that can kill them if they have too much. When he was nine, Roxas and I had to explain death to him. It was awful. He screamed at the top of his lungs for what seemed like three days (but was probably only two hours or so) and he sobbed whenever he had any spare energy, and he wouldn't let either of us out of his sight for a fortnight, in case we died while he wasn't looking. Naturally, we now avoided topics like alcohol, drugs, anorexia (we just told him that Naminé had a stomach bug that meant she didn't want to eat, but she had to... and somehow, he believed that this stomach bug lasted for nearly a year) and basically anything that could kill someone. Or even hurt them.

"No, Demyx, no drinking alcohol." Dad's new-found patience was slowly trickling away and I was kind of worried that he'd end up snapping before even letting us go to Seifer's party. In all honesty, we'd probably go whether or not we got his permission, but it would save us a whole lot of trouble if we could talk him round now. Unfortunately, Demyx looked blank at the mention of alcohol, and I could sense a huge yelling fit, complete with frequent uses of the word "faggot", was right around the corner.

"What's alcohol?" he asked, just like we knew he would. I looked at Dad, my fingers locked tightly around Dem's, and started playing with the edge of my T-shirt. Wasn't this the one Seifer bought me? Oh, fuck, it was. I thought I'd got rid of that.

"What the hell, Demyx? Oh, never mind. Your siblings know, anyway. Now, no sex –"

"Wait." Demyx looked at me for support but I couldn't meet his gaze. You are a shit sister and you should rot in Hell with Seifer and Vexen and Xaldin and Xemnas and... "Wait, what do you mean, no sex?"

"I mean, you can't screw another person whilst you are under the age of eighteen," Dad snapped, turning for the door. "I need a drink."

"Erm, no, you don't." Ah, there we go, I was redeeming myself now. Slightly. "You need to actually have a conversation with one of your children once in a while, and then maybe you'd understand why Demyx is so confused!"

Demyx tugged on my hand. "Seriously, Megan, what does he mean?"

I smiled thinly at him, wishing I could put more strength behind it. "Dem, how about you go and play your sitar upstairs, yeah? I'll explain later." With any luck, he would completely forget and I'd be home free.

He got up and shuffled past Dad out of the room. I glanced at Roxas, who gave me a "just-you-fucking-try-to-make-me-leave" glare, and then back to Dad, who was scowling at me. His face would stay like that... especially if I stabbed him in the neck and he died... I mean, um, if the wind changed. Because I never contemplate killing other people, oh no. That would be wrong.

I smacked the remote and Patrick Star was silenced. "Megan, don't even think about –"

"About what? Criticising you for being a shit parent? Well, I'm going to. Suck it. If you were ever home, if you were ever sober, if you ever spent any time with your sons, then maybe you'd know that –"

"My sons? What the fuck does that make you, then?" he spat, taking a step towards me. At some point I'd ended up on my feet, and Roxas sat on the very edge of the sofa, ready to leap up and intervene at any given moment. This was definitely necessary.

"It makes me the one who doesn't want to see you, ever, and would be happy to move in with Naminé and Cloud." I folded my arms. "But this conversation isn't about me. This is about the fact that Demyx doesn't understand –"

"I think he understands perfectly well, and he's just being an idiot about it!" Dad was starting to go pink in the face and I was starting to wish I'd kicked Roxas out when I'd had the chance. "He's seventeen, for God's sake, but you and your brother treat him like –"

"Like we care about him! Sure, we don't treat him like other seventeen-year-olds, but that's because he isn't like other seventeen-year-olds! And he doesn't even know what alcohol is, or what –"

"He bloody well does know, you little bitch, he's seventeen," Dad hissed. I was starting to get seriously angry now, but I had to put my brothers before myself. Always, them before me, Naminé before me...

"No, Dad, he doesn't. Just because he's seventeen doesn't automatically make him an alcoholic druggie who'll screw anything that moves. Most seventeen-year-olds aren't like that, that's not healthy. But Demyx genuinely doesn't understand half of what's going on around him, and he doesn't care to understand. He's happy with just me, Roxas and his sitar –"

"That fucking sitar is the bane of my existence! Why is that little faggot so obsessed with it, anyway?"

"Do not," I growled, clenching my fists so hard that I felt my nails pierce my palms, just so I wouldn't wrap my fingers around his throat instead, "call him a faggot."

"Well he is a –"

"Shut up." Roxas had finally spoken, and that was enough to shut Dad up for a moment, at least. "Seriously, shut up."

The shock of the smaller blonde piping up didn't last very long, though, before Dad opened his fat mouth again. "Who the fuck d'you think you are, young man? And you, Megan! He's my son –"

"And he's our brother, and we've practically had to fucking raise him. I had to tell him that if someone touches him "down there", he should kick them as hard as he can and then run. I had to tell him that. Me, his little sister. Roxas had to explain to him how to kiss someone. We had to hold him when he had a nightmare and we had to wash the sheets when he had the flu and puked all over them. Don't you dare give me any of this "I'm his dad" crap, because we raised that child, and are still raising him, and he raised us, and we raised each other, because we're a fucking family, okay? Until you learn some fucking paternal skills, you do not get an invitation to join, and I refuse to let you tell me that you brought him up, because you didn't do shit for that kid except pay for his food."

Dad just shook his head at me, then left. Probably to go to the pub and drown the truth in beer. I threw myself onto the couch, feeling it bounce violently beneath me, and tried not to let on that I was still fucking furious.

"You're pissed, aren't you?" Roxas said softly, getting up and taking the old mugs from the coffee table so that I couldn't throw them. The kid knew me too well.

"I'm seething. I want to pull his teeth out with tweezers and cover them in caramel before feeding them to a dog. How the fuck can he say Demyx is his son? How could he?"

Roxas sighed, kicking the living room door back open so that he could put the used mugs in the kitchen. "I know, Megan. One day we'll get out of here. We'll all live together on the beach, remember?"

I tried again to smile, but I just kind of failed at it. Roxas reached out and laid the hand that wasn't holding empty coffee mugs on my shoulder. "You're still his younger sister, Megan. You don't have to look after him all the time."

"Well who the hell else is going to do it?" I demanded. Roxas was completely undisturbed by this, as he always is. "He needs me, Roxas. And... and you need me, and..."

"And you need us, too." He smiled at me. "You're pretty fucking great, but you can't do everything by yourself. And we'll stand by you forever, you know that."

My heart ached as the little blonde left the room, and I wanted so badly to tell him that I couldn't do anythingby myself, and that I looked after people because if they left me... if I was alone...

I shook my head hard. Marly and I had agreed that there was a reason I couldn't remember my childhood, and that it was probably for the best, really.

And the nightmares had almost stopped now.

Almost.

Demyx

Thursday is a total blur to me. I didn't sleep at all on Wednesday night, and all I know is what other people have told me – that my fingers were bleeding and sore, probably from playing my sitar without paying attention, that I fell over in the cafeteria and Yuffie helped me back up before taking me over to Megan's table, and that I accidentally spilt apple juice on Axel. I do remember one thing, though. I was in Xigbar's classroom (don't ask me why, or how I got there) and I was trying real hard to speak, and then suddenly I was on a beanbag with Xigbar on my left and Zexion on my right, barely able to breathe...

And then suddenly it was half past three on Friday afternoon and I was in Roxas's room with a pale, worried Megan sitting on Roxas's big black desk chair. I collapsed, apparently, and they wouldn't let me go to school the next day. Which I guess is fair.

"Demyx? Are you awake?" I nodded, trying to sit up, but Megan put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back into the pillows. "Take it easy, Dem. D'you remember what happened yesterday?"

I was so disorientated and dizzy and I felt sick and...

"Okay, just stay there. You want a drink of water? Or something to eat?"

"Do we have any cookies?" I asked feebly. Megan laughed and got to her feet.

"I'll get you some cookies, Dem, don't worry. Just stay there, all right?" She leaned over, kissed me on the forehead, and left. Now, Megan doesn't like touching other people as a rule. Nobody will tell me why. I think it's just because she's sort of an angry person. So anything cuddly and sweet was more or less omitted from our family. But I guess she must've been really worried about me, because normally she wouldn't have kissed my forehead. Normally, in fact, she would've just left me to sleep. I propped myself up on the pillows and looked around. Roxas's room was a little tidier than mine and worlds tidier than Meg's. It smelt like Roxas – the cheapest deodorant going, mixed in with cheap lemon detergent and a touch of mint – and it looked like him too, checkered pillows and curtains the colour of his eyes, everything a little worn down but still in perfect working condition.

Megan arrived with a pack of cookies in one hand and my cellphone in the other. She handed me a single cookie, obviously wanting to make sure I didn't just inhale the whole packet the way I used to, and my cellphone, which was flashing madly. Xigbar and Zexion had both texted me, Zexion just saying Hope you're okay and Xigbar telling me that I'm so freaking worried, DemDem :/ Text me as soon as you wake up so I know you're okay, all right? I would hate if something bad happened to you. Look after yourself, okay?

I smiled brightly at the tiny screen and tapped out a reply to both of them: I'm fine, don't worry xxx

I polished off three cookies, Megan chewing alongside me, and watched as Megan texted someone incredibly quickly, her thumbs practically blurring with the speed of them. Her eyebrows were drawn together and her teeth dug into her lower lip. There aren't often times when I feel like the older one, but right now I wanted to reach over and somehow make her feel less worried. But the thing is that I don't know how. One time, I had to go to Marly's office to talk about Megan. Basically, he told me that she really likes her space, and that if she needs my help then she needs to ask for it. I really don't know when she needs my help and when she doesn't, unless she tells me explicitly "I need your help, Dem." In fact, I can't read people at all. Ever.

Roxas tells me it's a good thing.

"Hey, Dem?" I looked at her, brushing cookie crumbs from the corner of my mouth. "Xigbar wants to come see you. Do you feel up to that?"

"Totally!" Why wouldn't I be? Xiggy was so awesome, and if he was worried about me then surely it would make sense for him to come over? But I guess Megan just wanted to make sure. She's aggressive (although she doesn't often hit me, probably because I don't hit back and it makes her feel bad) but she loves me and Roxas to pieces. And Naminé, I guess. (And then there's the thing with Seifer, but I think she might not love him any more. I'm not really certain about that.)

She carried on texting for a few moments more, then stood up. "I need to go call someone. Give me a shout if you need me, okay?" I nodded like a good little brother – even though I was the older one – and watched her out of the door. She was so sweet sometimes, and I really do think she just wants the best for me and Rox. She's got a funny way of getting it... but she does get it.

I remember when we first met each other. It seems like so long ago, but it was only ten years. She looked so scared and small when we first got home from the orphanage, so I said "Hey Meggy, you okay?" ...and received a large, painful bruise on my left arm, followed by a "Don't-call-me-Meggy-you-little-idiot" (she didn't know any swearwords back then) and her storming from the room. Lisa – we never called her our mother, we didn't know her long enough for that – told me that Megan wasn't angry, she was just scared, and that I should be super-nice to her. I was, for about a week, I gave her all my toys and let her have the last cookie and everything, until eventually she said "Listen, Demyx. You need to stop being so nice to people, or they'll take advantage of you. They'll get used to you being nice and they'll want you to be even more nice. See how that works?" I only half-understood but I was content with that. "Now, how's about I do your make-up?"

That was the first of thousands of makeovers Megan and I gave each other. It was also the first time I realised that boys don't normally like boys.

"So you have a crush on a guy? Whose name is Pence?" Megan had asked as she dabbed lipgloss onto my lips. "That's sweet, I guess. Kinda unusual... but sweet."

"Why's it unusual?" I had a lisp back then, I think, and a habit of tapping my foot on the floor whenever I was nervous.

"Well, normally boys likes girls, and girls like boys. Like I have a crush on this boy named –" Megan was smaller back then, but she was still just as intimidating, at least towards other kids. It took her a few years to get the hang of terrorising adults as well. "Promise me you won't tell anyone?"

"I-I promise, Megan."

"His name is Sephiroth. He always used to pick on the little kids back at our old school, but I force-fed him a handful of sand and he stopped. But I guess now I'm living here in Twilight Town then I won't see him again."

She had only looked sad for a split second before reverting back into "What colour eyeshadow suits you best" mode. Still, I noticed that one split second, and I told her, "He sounds like a great big meanie. All the boys in Twilight Town are real nice. You'll meet someone nice and live happily after with them instead of Seph – Seth –"

"Sephiroth." She didn't seem at all phased by my inability to pronounce her crush's name. "I always used to say it wrong by purpose because it annoyed him, but his real name is Sephiroth."

"Well, anyways, everyone here is way nicer than in... where do you come from?"

"Traverse Town, but I don't remember it. All I remember is Sephiroth and the nice lady who always used to give me cookies when I was good. She had this special chart on the wall and if it said I'd been good, I could have a cookie. I forgot her name though."

"Really? That's all you remember from when you were little?" I had been so surprised by that, but I didn't realise just how unusual it was until quite a bit later. "I remember loads of stuff from when I was a kid. I even remember my real parents."

"Did they die?" Six-year-old Megan's voice had been so quiet then, and I knew I didn't have to tell her about my parents if I didn't want to. But I wanted to.

"No, they didn't. At least, I think they didn't. They just stopped wanting me so they gave me to an orphanage. I think. Anyway, I remember that, and I remember what Santa gave me last Christmas –"

"What did you get for last Christmas, then?" It was only upon reflection that I realised Megan didn't want to talk about remembering things any more, and that she was just changing the subject.

"Lots of stuff, like a gigantic lollipop this big and a miniature drum kit and, uh, a pack of chocolate coins and ten whole munny!"

"You can't buy anything with ten munny!" Megan had retorted. "Sephiroth said his parents had, like, a gazillion munny. That's a lot of munny."

"A gazillion? No way! He must have been lying." We had bickered for a little while about that, and the argument came to an abrupt end when Megan shoved me out of the chair and dumped eyeshadow powder on my head.

In all honesty, she hasn't changed a bit since then.

"Hey, Demyx, you okay?" She re-entered Roxas's room, looking at me all worried. She was still the same Megan I met ten years ago, all right. The only difference was that she was taller, slightly scarier, and actually brushed her hair every now and again. Oh, and she had all of her teeth now.

"I'm fine. So is Xiggy coming over?"

"Yeah, he and Roxas are both on their way. Rox really didn't want to go to school, you know. He wanted to stay with you, but if all three of us weren't there it might've looked a little odd, you know?" Yeah, I know. And I know that I shouldn't have told Xiggy about Dad hitting Megan, and I know that I can't tell anyone else. People have to believe we're a happy family, or we'll get moved to new families and we won't be able to stay together. So we pretend everything is normal even on my very worst days, even if we've had to throw cold water on Megan to wake her up from the nightmares, even if Roxas starts hyperventilating because he doesn't know what time it is.

"So.. you mean you skipped school?" Meg hates school, but she normally goes. She always says "Naminé needs me". Secretly, I think that she needs Naminé.

"Yeah. It wouldn't have been any fun anyway. Naminé's got a cold so Cloud made her stay home."

Oh, Cloud. He was so cute. Of course, he was mean to Megan on exactly one occasion, so there was no way on Earth that I'd even think about him for more than ten seconds at a time – but you couldn't deny that Cloud Strife was gorgeous.

There was a knock at the front door. I made to get out of bed but Megan glared at me with all the intensity of a thousand clichéd suns and I stayed put, watching her clamber over Roxas's rucksack to get to the other side of the room. I'm not that feeble... but I guess I must've scared her, just collapsing like that. Hey, it scared me.

"DemDem!" As soon as Roxas's bedroom door was opened Xigbar was through it, moving so fast he might as well have teleported, and by my side. "Shit, I was so worried..."

"Oh, so you don't trust me to take care of my own brother?" asked Megan's sarcastic voice from the doorway. She wasn't all that upset though, I knew she wasn't. Roxas stood uncertainly next to her, looking from me to Xigbar and back again like he was waiting for something.

"Yeah, well, not even you could've helped him if something was really – if he –" Wow, Xiggy seemed really upset. I reached over, took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry, it's just..."

"It's fine. Roxas, how 'bout you and I go make dinner? I'm sure Xigbar will be able to cope with Dem for ten minutes or so." She waved at us both and steered Roxas out of the room. I raised an eyebrow as the door slammed behind them both. Megan, making food? She found pouring cereal a challenge. I guess... she just wanted Roxas out of the room?

"Demyx, are you sure you're okay?" Xigbar asked, moving a little closer to me. Aww, he was worried about me. I actually had really bad butterflies, but I decided not to mention that.

"I'm fine, Xigbar, I promise." I pushed myself up onto my elbows. "I guess I was just really tired. I don't even remember what happened on Thursday."

Xigbar smiled thinly. "You came to my classroom to ask me about that essay – which got an A, by the way, it was really good – and you started stammering and going really pale so I made you sit down. Then Zexion slithered in, as he is wont to do, and you started hyperventilating." I get the feeling Xiggy really don't like Zexion. Why not? He's so cute... and he's nice, when he wants to be... "I sent Zexion to go get your sister and we got you home on one of the expensive-ass trams, but your bedroom door was locked so we stuck you in your brother's bed instead. Then Megan insisted I go back to school and carry on teaching like a responsible adult, and this is the first time she's let me see you since. Fuck, it was terrifying."

I laced my fingers through his. "I'm fine, Xiggy, I promise. Really. Megan and Roxas take real good care of me, you know that. And I take care of them."

"And your father is nowhere to be seen, which is great because I'm quite tempted to hurt him very badly for not doing a decent job looking after his kids. Especially you." He leaned over and brushed my cheek with the fingers of his free hand. "I really care about you, Demyx, you know that?"

"I know. I care about you too." I sighed. "I'm just glad that you and Zexion were there. Imagine if I'd been on my own when I'd passed out."

"Oh, God, I don't even want to think about it," Xigbar said with a shudder. "If something happened to you..."

"Relax, Xiggy. I'm okay." I looked up at him and forced a smile. It was real nice of him to come see me, but he gave me such awful butterflies...

"If you're sure –" He stopped when the door smashed open, a pink-faced Roxas standing in its frame. "Oh. Hey, Roxas."

"Why are you and Demyx holding hands?" Xigbar snatched his hand away from mine, darting away from my bedside (although technically it was Roxas's bed) and scratching the back of his head.

"Uh, we were just..."

"We were talking about Zexion," I lied. Oh God oh God oh God, I'm such a terrible liar, oh my God... "Cos I said that... that Zexion was never gonna like me back, and Xigbar was kinda giving me a pep talk. You know, like in some rubbish movie about friendship and believing in yourself."

Xigbar said nothing. Roxas said nothing. Taking my cue from them, I too said nothing. Then Roxas smiled.

"Okay, I guess. Don't think about Zexion too much or you might start hyperventilating again." He took a step back. "I was just gonna ask, Demyx, do you want gravy with your dinner?"

"What're we having?" I asked, pulling Roxas's duvet up to my chin. It was so warm... I really wanted to go back to sleep...

"Shepherd's pie." I adore shepherd's pie. I nodded vigorously, then watched him leave, running a hand through his hair as we went. Then I turned to Xigbar.

"D'you think Roxas actually believed me?" I asked, settling back onto the pillows.

But I didn't hear Xiggy's answer because I was engulfed by warm, heavy sleep.

xxx

I know, I know, I haven't updated in forever and you all really really missed my witticisms.

Haha, as if. (I love that line. "As if", I mean.) I've been a little busy with, oh, I don't know, MY LIFE. It's so unfun. So I have now resorted to writing fanfiction at midnight in my room when in actual fact I'm kind of ill and should be doing the fuckton of homework everyone else has already done. Oh, well.

By the way, if any of you were wondering, I am planning on jamming Sora in here towards the end. It's probably sad how extensively I've planned this. I'm even contemplating a... SEQUEL? Dun dun duuuun. It just depends on how much enthusiasm I get for this pile of crap. *cough* REVIEW *cough* :D