Pain. That's my reality; all I know, as I slowly, grudgingly rise to consciousness. I'd much rather bathe myself in the darkness; drown in the abyss where I have no feeling. As it is, I gradually become more aware of my surroundings. I realize my face is pressed into the floor; my left arm is uncomfortably wedged under my body. And pain. I notice the pain, but can't place it. It's everywhere. It has to be. I can't figure out where I am. This isn't good. I hear something. What…what is it? Voices. Someone else is in the room, more than one someone. The mumbling refuses to form into words in my head. I try my best to continue to seem unconscious. I'm definitely not in the basement like I usually am. What happened? Something awful is my guess.

I've been subject to Marluxia's beatings for years now. Or so it seems. Whenever he's angry, he uses me to let out some steam, sometimes even lets his friends join in. At this point I'm pretty good at blocking it out, retreating into myself to escape. This was different though. It's never felt this way before. It had to have been something terrible. He didn't even taunt me beforehand like he often does, trying to get into my brain. Too bad for him, usually by then I've already locked myself inside. This time though…

As I contemplate what might have occurred, the voices become a bit clearer. I recognize Marluxia. He's angry, not a surprise. And another one, one I could never forget. Zexion. How often he sat before me, trying to manipulate and break his way into my mind. Something that they're saying should mean something to me….Roxas! They just said Roxas' name! And another. It's familiar; Axel. They must have spoken about him before. I try to pay more attention to what is being said.

"How? How could he have done this? His own sister?" Marluxia is practically screaming at this point.

"It's not as if it's the first time he's been a traitor." Zexion sounds bored.

"But to murder Larxene?" He exclaims. "That's barbaric!"

I try not to snort at the hypocrisy of him declaring something to be barbaric as I lay face-first in my own blood on his floor. So Larxene is dead. If I said I wasn't rejoicing, it would have been a lie to say the least.

Opening one eye just a slit, I see marluxia clutch Zexion's cloak as he realizes something.

"They'll come here." He says. "Axel and that blonde. They'll be coming for the boy!" My breathe catches as I hear this. I had long since stopped imagining someone coming after me in rescue. Could it be true though? "Call a meeting! The whole of the Organization! As soon as possible. It's only a matter of time before they realize where we must be. We need to leave this place."

"We are talking about Axel, right? The one we left beaten and bleeding in that field?" Zexion questions.

"Axel's not that broken little boy anymore, Zexion. You've no idea what he's capable of. We need to leave."

"But where will we go?" Zexion asks. There's a silence.

"…The castle."

"Surely, you're joking." Zexion whispers. "Castle Oblivion? As soon as Xemnas learns of his daughter's end, he's going to be livid. And you expect to walk in, deliver the news, all the while being in possession of the main REASON for her demise?" Through the slit of my eyes I see him turn his head toward me. "Xemnas will slaughter him." Marluxia's hand flashes out to Zexion's chest, pushing him against the wall. As they're distracted, I try move my finger through the dirt of the floor.

"Exactly! What else would you have me do? We need his protection." Marluxia hisses. "And what is this concern for the boy?" He demands. Zexion pushes Marluxia off of him.

"Nothing." He shrugs. "I just never figured you for one to walk a kid to his death." They must've looked toward me. Suddenly, I'm kicked hard in the stomach. I groan as a knee lands on my chest, pinning me on my back.

"What's this, eh?" Marluxia asks, leaning down toward me. "Trying to leave a message for your traitorous brother? I'll tell you now; he's not going to find you. Probably isn't even looking for you." He taunts. It takes all the strength I have to spit in his face. He angrily wipes it off. His hand rises as if to smack me, but is stopped mid-motion as Zexion speaks.

"It's just useless scribblings, Marluxia. No way these mean anything, not to mention no one could possibly make them out." Zexion kicks it, scattering the dirt.

"Yes, well. Call that meeting. We need to leave." Marluxia looks at me. "You're going back downstairs." Marluxia grabs the collar of my shirt and begins dragging me out of the room. As I fight to escape his grip, I look back at the dirt Zexion has just stirred.

Roxas…

See? NOT eight months. C: Sorry it's short though. :C