Oh I forgot to mention this last chapter, that this chapter would take a bit because I had finals. But school is now OVER for me, but thankfully not for the boys quite yet. I've also moved into a new flat as well as visited some friends and family in the short vacation time I was allotted. Expect more frequent updates. And review you whippersnappers.

Same warning and disclaimer.

Brotherhood: Chi Iota Iota

"Come on Roxas, people like this stuff."

"No Axel. You like this stuff. I don't want any."

"We'll make more money if you do, hold still," Axel insisted, advancing on the shorter boy.

Roxas pushed away, scowling and baring his teeth in vain. When it was clear that he was not going to escape this one, he huffed and surrendered."…Does it hurt?" He looked up, still pissed but maybe a little less so than before.

"Of course not, it's just kohl. May tickle a little, try not to blink," Axel said with a bit of a laugh, tilting the other's chin up. "Look up. Yeah. …Roxas, don't blink!"

"I'm sorry!" the blond wailed disgracefully, rubbing at his eye. He had turned his head violently when the pencil first touched his eyelid. "That's really weird."

"Sit on your hands, then. Vocalize it instead of moving. Okay, going to try again."

"Ahhh-"

"Good, don't move."

"AHH, god that feels so weird, uuugh!"

"Almost done with this eye just-"

"AH! AXEL!"

"Done! Wait, don't touch it, Rox…" Axel said, taking a step back to admire his handiwork. For all the squirming, he'd done a pretty god job. At least the kid still had both eyes, and that had to count for something. Roxas turned around and looked at himself in the mirror, pulling a face.

"It's stupid."

"Not stupid. Pretty. Lemme do the other one," the taller insisted, licking his lips and tugging Roxas' chin up once more. No sooner did the kohl pencil touch eyelid that loud wails and begs could be heard from the bathroom once more. When Axel was finished he released his prey, allowing Roxas to scrutinize his reflection again. It admittedly wasn't an amazing look for him, but it screamed band junky and that was what mattered. The eyeliner, borrowed clothes, plus all the gel Demyx had slathered into his hair made Roxas look very unlike himself. It was only for a weekend, he reminded himself, and after granting Axel a thank-you-for-knowing-what-you-were-doing-for-once-you-good-for-nothing-asshole kiss, he went to open the bathroom door.

Xigbar and Luxord tumbled neatly onto the floor. See, they had been pressing their ears to the bathroom door, suspecting there may have been relations occurring in the shared bathroom. To be fair, the notion wasn't completely unwarranted. Not only were loud cries of Axel's name filtering from the room, but the two pledges had decided to keep the information about their technical involvement a secret. Naturally, everyone already knew.

"What are you doing?" Roxas asked crossly. The two Brothers scrambled up from the floor and straightened themselves out, trying to look innocent.

"Waiting for the bathroom," Xigbar supplied.

"There are like, six in the house," Axel said, pushing his way past the assembly and walking towards his room quite unamused. Roxas tried to follow, but was quickly stopped by Xigbar, who seemed in the mood for eye rape.

"Nice makeup, kid," the Vice President said, scrutinizing his pledge's appearance.

"I'm not talking to you, Xigbar," Roxas said, tugging his arm away from the other's grasp. "You blew off the combat meet yesterday."

"Shut up, I don't go to combat meets," Xigbar snorted, giving Roxas a shove.

"Well you should," Roxas said, shoving back. "Me, Saix and Xaldin are all on the team!"

"Want me to re-break your nose?"

"Alright, enough," Luxord interrupted, placing himself in Xigbar's way. Not that he thought his friend would actually break Roxas' nose, but he was immediately tired of the sudden attitude problem. "I'll make you some coffee, okay?" Xigbar grumbled and left the bathroom, taking his bad mood with him.

"What's his problem?" The pledge scowled and tentatively touched the skin under one eye. He had some concealer over his bruises, the original reason Axel had been helping him out in the first place.

"He doesn't go to combat meets," Luxord shrugged. "Ask him about it yourself when he's drunk."

Meanwhile, in the other room, Demyx was revealing his super secret special awesome surprise to Axel. Because really, the redhead had seemed the least pleased about their fundraiser and despite that, had practiced very hard to be ready for their performances. So Demyx had pulled some strings, literally, and borrowed a fantastically awesome electric violin from a classmate.

"Oh, it's shiny," Axel marveled, running his freshly calloused fingers down the strings. "For me?"

"Of course for you. It's got this nifty little amp and stuff, so don't worry about being heard. Who knew Fender made violins?"

"Dem, this is really cool. Seriously, thanks a lot."

"Don't mention it," Demyx replied, grinning crazily because even though Axel was trying to hide it, he could tell the other was really pleased/touched/thankful for the gift. "If we're gonna be out there, might as well enjoy it, right?"

"I'm mad," Roxas announced, entering the room. "…Nice violin."

"Demyx borrowed it for me. Isn't he the dreamiest?"

"Oh totally," Roxas fawned, fanning himself sarcastically. "Randomly, do either of you know why Xigbar won't come to combat meets?"

"Why don't you just ask him?" Demyx prompted, plugging Axel's violin into the amp for him. Axel fingered the strings happily, getting a feel for the sleek, white instrument.

"I don't think he feels like talking," Roxas said. "I may just ask Xaldin, he'd know."

"He's so dreamy," Axel supplied and played a few notes.

"Stop that," Roxas snapped.

"Don't dwell on it right now. We have to carry our equipment down to the quad," Demyx said, picking up his guitar and slinging it onto his back. They had a good assembly of amps and wires and electrical crap that they needed to bring with them in order to perform out in the populated area of campus, where they were hoping to get the biggest audience and thusly, more handouts. Luckily enough for them, the early November months brought pleasant weather to the islands and there was little threat of unbearable heat. By the time the trio of pledges had set up all the extension chords and equipment and donation bin of course, it was early afternoon.

At first, Axel and Roxas seemed a bit nervous about the performances seeing as neither had really been up on a 'stage' for a good while. Demyx on the other hand seemed right at home, and after a few experimental songs they fell into perfect rhythm with each other, just like they had practiced. When the nerves died down, the only thing they had left to worry about was if two days was enough time to raise their membership fees.

The meeting was called to order by Xemnas of course, who nearly started swearing when the Brothers still wouldn't shut the hell up after being asked three times. He knew they were excited but honestly, no one would get anything done if there was no sense of order. By the time he had everyone's attention, he couldn't help but crack a small smile in anticipation as well.

"As most of you know, The Mosh is quickly approaching. Chi Double-I has won the event six years running, and I dare say I will not be the President who breaks the streak," Xemnas said, straight to business for once. "On top of that, I know you've been planning your own 'tests' for our pledges. I know you may get upset, but I want to ask you all to re-strategize your plans in order to train the freshmen for the Mosh."

"What?" Xaldin asked/more like demanded. "But I wanted them to polish the artillery before the next meet!"

"Clean my room," Xigbar offered.

"Fight each other to the death," Saix said, smirking to himself when he received a few blank stares.

"No, no, and maybe," Xemnas said, arms crossed in front of his broad chest. "I want them ready for the Mosh, you know what sort of events there are. If they eat, make sure it's fast and in large quantities in preparation for the eating competition. If they drink, they need to be chugging it. You catch my drift."

"Perhaps it would be wise," Vexen interjected, taking notes on every word passed across the table, "if we were to keep them healthy. There are physical challenges as well, and I doubt any of them will be fit for volleyball if their stomachs have exploded."

"Oh, and you know how good the jock sorority is at that crap. God, running around in their little hot pants and shit. They play a hard game," Xigbar said. "Hey, maybe we should wear hot pants. You know, as a distraction."

"Disgusting," Zexion hissed.

"You wear them, Xig. We'll watch," Marluxia snorted.

"Maybe I will! I think I'd look awesome in those things."

"The next person to speak of hot pants will be paddled," Xemnas warned, rubbing his temples.

"So, let me get this straight," Luxord started, pun intended. "We gotta scrap our old ideas, no matter how wicked or fantastical they were, in favor of Mosh training torture. Correct?"

"Yes," the president confirmed.

"Studix didn't do that last year, and we still won," the blond pointed out, stroking his goatee. Both Zexion and Saix shifted uncomfortably.

"…It doesn't matter. You can save your old ideas for a rainy day for all I care, but you're going to get the pledges ready for the Mosh, and that is my final word on the matter." Xemnas looked around the table, hoping for at least a few signs of agreement. He honestly believed that his idea was in the fraternity's best interest, and for a strange moment grew somewhat nervous that the Brothers were too divided over the matter. That was no way to be before a competition.

"He's right," Vexen offered supportively, pen scratching against his small notebook. "Prioritizing the Mosh is a superb way to secure victory."

"You know," Marluxia said, facing Xigbar. "I bet we can figure a way to turn cleaning into training."

"Sleep on it," the President said. "I have full faith in your abilities to make this experience a proper part of hazing. Work together if you must, but make sure it gets done. Bonus points to the first one who makes them cry."

At the end of a very long weekend, the pledges sat anxiously around Demyx's guitar case to count their earnings. The first day they had not made all that much; a bit over one hundred dollars, which wasn't even close to half of what they needed. They had fought a little after that, arguing that it wasn't worth going out for another day and that they had to re-think their strategy. But in the end, they continued their performances anyway. Thankfully, word had spread across campus about the trio of "musicians," and the pledges found themselves collecting more money. They deserved it as well, seeing as how their performances had been entertaining (Axel stripped) and well practiced (Axel stripped while playing). Still, if they didn't meet quota, things could downgrade to downright depressing.

"I've got one-hundred and seventeen dollars," Axel said, placing his stack of bills neatly back into the guitar case.

"One-hundred and fifty four, and thirty seven cents," Demyx added.

"One-hundred and twelve," Roxas said, pulling out his cell phone to add their earnings up. "Okay, so all of that, plus the money we made yesterday, that would be… shit, we're short. Five-hundred and twelve dollars, and sixty four cents."

"Fuck."

"Damn it."

"I know," Roxas said, moving to put his cash in with the rest. He stared at the mass of money and sighed. They were so close.

"Come on, we can make the rest somehow," Demyx provided, looking to his friends. "I mean hell, I can throw in twenty bucks or something."

"But I mean, that's my spending money," Axel said. "There's gotta be a way to earn 90 bucks without paying it out of pocket ourselves."

"I, uhm…" Roxas began, looking a little uncomfortable. "I think I have an idea."

"Vexen, I need to borrow your car," Roxas said, squared in his Big Brother's doorway.

"Oh?" the elder replied, setting his notebook aside. "What would you need mine for?"

"I need to go see Cid real quick."

"I see…" Vexen said, eyes narrowing somewhat. His mind started to process the very many reasons he could have to deny his pledge the usage of his car, but in the end he was fishing out his keys anyway. Let them make their own mistakes, that was his policy. It was the best way to learn. "Be careful, then."

"Thanks, I will." Roxas accepted the car keys and offered a quick smile before darting out of the house. He wasn't sure why he was running. Perhaps if because he slowed down to think about what he was doing, he would change his mind. Perhaps it was because Vexen hadn't scolded or asked him what was going on, simply judged him silently and that was almost worst than being reprimanded. Perhaps it was because his leftover prescription painkillers were burning a hole in his pocket.

By some miracle, he found his way out to Cid's secluded residence without getting terribly lost. Roxas sat in the driveway for a few minutes before turning the sedan off and walking up the gravel path to the front door. He rang the doorbell and waited for the gun cock before stating his name.

"…Balls?" Cid asked through the screen door, scrutinizing Roxas' appearance.

"Yeah, don't you remember me? Vexen's pledge," Roxas explained, fidgeting slightly where he stood. "My real name is Roxas."

"Oh, oh yeah, sure kid," Cid replied, putting his long rifle down to rest against a nearby wall before walking out to his front porch. A black and white cat followed him out, immediately moving to sniff at Roxas' shoes. "So what can I do for ya? I don't have any kegs right now."

"I don't want any," Roxas said, eyeing the cat who was now rubbing against him. "Uh, actually, I wanted to sell you something this time."

"This ain't a pawn shop, Balls."

"I know, but," the shorter boy started, hand digging into his pocket to pull out his plastic tube of medicine. He knew plenty of kids liked to take painkillers when drinking or doing other drugs, and hoped to the god of drug peddling that his medicine could sell. "I thought you might have some use for these."

Cid took the offered container and read the attached label quickly, scanning the prescription name and the dosage before turning his gaze back down to Roxas. "How many are in here?"

"I don't know."

"And how much do ya want for em?"

"Eighty-seven dollars and thirty six cents," Roxas said in a huge rush, adrenaline spiking somewhat.

"Uh-huh," Cid replied, raising a brow. "Come in for a sec, lemme count these real quick." He held the screen door open for Roxas, who tentatively stepped inside and sat on a comfortable couch when prompted by his host. Cid sat on another chair across the coffee table, and opened the bottle to spill the white pills onto the table. While he counted them, the cat jumped up to rub against Roxas' shirt affectionately.

"Stop that," he whispered lowly to the cat, trying to push it away.

"He just likes ya, kid," Cid offered mid-count. "There. Twenty-one here, good dosage. I can offer eighty for them."

"That's fine," Roxas said quickly, figuring they could make the rest up easily. The cat dug its claws into his leg.

"Good. I'll get your cash… why you selling these anyway?"

"Membership fees," Roxas explained, lifting the cat up. It meowed at him softly, and if cats could smirk triumphantly, then this one was doing just that. "We were a little short, I wanted to help out."

"Got it. Be back, don't go snooping around anywhere," Cid said and went to get some money.

Roxas took the opportunity to look around the dark house he had no intention of wandering around in. The place smelled off (but not bad or unpleasant, just off), and from what he could see, there were a few illegal substances sitting around the room. There were also a few mechanical tools strewn about, some small pieces of machinery and metal. He wondered if Cid got high a lotor if he just sold things to make ends meet. He wondered if the cat was high right then because no animal should ever be that affectionate. He wondered whose stupid mouths his pills would find their way into.

"Here you go, Balls. Eighty in cash."

"Thanks," Roxas said, accepting the money and stuffing it into his pocket. He stood to leave because lord knew he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. "And you can call me Roxas now."

"I could," Cid replied and moved to walk Roxas out. "But you seem like more of a 'Balls' to me."

"…How does someone even seem like a-"

"See ya later, kid. Pleasure doin' business with ya!" Cid called and pushed Roxas out of the house, closing the door behind him. Roxas stood there for a moment before retreating to the car, heading directly towards the Chi house and not looking back. He was covered in cat hair and needed to get the money out of his hands as soon as possible before he had any second thoughts. He hadn't even taken his name off the bottle, he realized at some point of the drive, and a pit had fully formed in his stomach by the time he got back home.

Roxas thrust his wad of cash into Demyx's hands as soon as he could, face-planting into the other's bed with a huff. Axel counted it, proclaimed it wasn't enough, and got hit in the face with a missile-pillow. Demyx coughed up the extra seven dollars and thirty-six cents if only to prevent civil war.

"C'mon Roxas, it's alright," Axel said in attempt to coax his friend from the bed.

"Yeah, you really helped us out," said Demyx.

"I'm going to hell," came the muffled response.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang through the living room, where Lexaeus and Marluxia were watching a football game on television. It was college ball, and Lexaeus was trying to pinpoint some of their strategies seeing as they were set to play the UDI team in a couple week's time. When he didn't move to get the door, Marluxia sighed obnoxiously and rose to answer it. Lexaeus smirked at the screen and took a swig from his beer.

"Yes, I'm coming, keep your shirt--….on?" Marluxia said as he swung open the door. Before him were a sea of bags and boxes, all seemingly packed in haste.

"Marluxia…" Naminé's voice sounded to the left. She was trying to look determinedly blank, but he could spot drying streaks under her eyes. "Is Demyx home? He hasn't answered my calls all weekend."

"Oh, yeah, he's… just, hold this," the Brother fumbled, shoving his beer into her hands before taking off up the stairs. Two at a time, he reached the top quickly and called out Demyx's name instead of searching for him. The said blond was currently trying to buffer between Axel and Roxas' angry slurs over the money issue, but they all fell silent when Demyx darted from the room.

"What's up?" he asked, spotting the Brother.

"There's something downstairs I think you need to deal with. This very second."

Demyx took off with Marluxia behind him, and Axel stared down at Roxas with a decidedly cranky scowl.

"We'll finish this later, Roxas. You have such an attitude problem." The redhead turned and followed a good deal behind the others.

"I was dealing drugs, I'm allowed to have an attitude problem!" Roxas yelled after him, but didn't follow.

"Hey Nami- why are you holding that?" Demyx asked once downstairs, giving the girl, the beer, and the assembly of belongings on the porch a quizzical look.

"Oh, that's mine," Marluxia said, plucking it from her and taking a sip through his crazy straw.

"I uhm," Naminé started, glancing up at the Brother and then back to Demyx. "I quit Gamma."

"Whoa…"

"Oh god," Marluxia gulped. "You know who Larxene is taking this out on." He retreated into the house, passing Axel along the way.

"What-- I mean, why did you do that?" Demyx asked, stepping closer to her.

"It wasn't for me, I couldn't possibly stay. I- I mean, the things they made me do and… they spit all over me when I left. I don't have a place to live, they wouldn't let me stay until I got a new housing assignment, and-"

"I understand," Demyx said and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Don't cry, Naminé. You can bunk up with us!"

"I can?"

"She can?" Axel piped in from the doorway, where he had been listening in.

"Well she's not sleeping on the street! Just until you get your new assignment, yeah? We'll make it work." Demyx released her and picked up the nearest bag, slinging it over his shoulder as if the decision had already been made. Naminé simply smiled and wiped at her eyes, nodding happily.

"Roxas is up in Demyx's room. Why dontcha go on up and we'll bring up your junk," Axel said, pointing inside the house. Naminé nodded again and, after slinging a bag over her shoulder, headed upstairs. "Demyx. Are you insane?!" the redhead hissed once she was gone.

"What? You have a better idea?"

"We need to ask permission for this shit! If the Brothers find out we moved her in without asking…"

"I'll ask after we get everything inside," Demyx explained, picking up a box.

"And if they say no?"

"…I haven't thought of that. Just grab something and help me get it into my room, would ya?"

"Yeah yeah, I'll give you something to grab," Axel said sullenly and picked up a box, following the blond up the stairs. When they reached Demyx's room, Roxas was seated with Naminé on the bed and apparently telling her something very funny while gesturing to his heavily kohled eyes.

"Thank you," she said to the pledges, smiling and pushing some hair out of her face.

"Who's up for doing laundry, hm pledgies? I've got the most impressive skidmarks in these… Oh." Xigbar came to a stop in their doorway, arms full of bags that presumably held laundry. He spotted Naminé, and immediately lowered his armfuls a bit. "Thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis is awkward."

"I'd say," Roxas mumbled.

"Hm. Welp, your guest doesn't excuse you from laundry. Or scrubbing the basement," Xigbar continued, dropping his bags and walking off. "NOW!" he called from the hallway.

Axel and Roxas sped off to start the clothing, parting ways momentarily with Demyx and Naminé who still had to bring the rest of the girl's stuff inside. Roxas was internally cursing as he separated lights from darks, deciding that it was possibly the worst day in a while. He had had to sing in front of a kajillion people, and in the end the embarrassment hadn't even paid up all the way. He'd sold drugs illegally and could only hope he'd stop feeling so damn bad about it, on top of hoping he wouldn't get caught. Naminé had no place to live. He had a five page paper to write for a class. The laundry smelled disgusting, and the basement was puke-stained from a recent party. It was like one shot right after another. And the worst part, the absolute shittiest fucking part of this whole thing, was the pressing feeling that things were only going to get astronomically worse.