o.O.o
Razorblade Shine
Chapter 9: Reunion
Revised December 27, 2008
o.O.o
Something in the way she knows
And all I have to do is think of her
Something in the thing she shows me
I don't want to leave her now
You know I believe in her now.
-"Something" by the Beatles
o.O.o
Okay, so I exaggerated just the slightest little bit.
But there is something you should understand; this is my narrative and I'm allowed to tell it as I see fit. So if I want to trick into believing the sky is falling on my head, I will. If I want you to think the aliens have landed and beamed all the potatoes right on up, I'll make my satire so convincing that even the biggest of skeptics will be cowering under their beds for fear that War of the Worlds was really taking place.
Minus Tom Cruise, of course.
I did, however, get stabbed, and fairly deeply at that, but it was luckily in the shoulder, a spot where I could possibly take a fair bit of damage without it actually doing too much damage to my overall well-being.
And okay, so the scissors weren't even all that rusty, just rusty enough that a tetanus shot was required lest Oblivion Treatment Center get sued by my parents.
But there was, in fact, plenty of good blood spurtage for those out there who are secretly rooting for a certain deranged bitch named Larxene.
And it hurt like fucking hell, having a sudden foreign object thrust into a place foreign objects definitely should never go...
I must say, I was rather disappointed in the way Larxene handled everything, apart from the fact that she actually stabbed me that is. I had always imagined that if someone ever deemed me worthy of personally injuring just for the sake of injuring me, it would be accompanied with a brilliant soliloquy with them describing in strict detail how exactly I ruined their life and caused them the loss of their sanity. A soliloquy worthy of Shakespeare where, upon saying their peace out loud for the first time, they realized how horrendous their logic was and let me live.
Instead of the ravishing speeches to leave me in visions of grandeur, all I got was a fucking, "You sonofabitch, now everyone hates me."
And then stab! That's it, that's all. I was called a sonofabitch and sent on my way. Metaphorically speaking, at any rate. And she only said it in exactly one breathless burst, her short speech lacking any sort of grievances list.
So utterly disappointing, I assure you.
It was thanks to Roxas (and Axel, who can't really receive any such praise or it'll go straight to his head. Oh, and Namine, too, for having those very handy drawing-the-future skills of hers), my savior, the one we should really all just bow down and worship for saving my ass twice in one miserable day, that I made it out of that puny phone room with only one stab. He just happened to be walking by the doorless phone room (hiding from Axel no doubt) and saw Larxene holding the scissors in a way that was scarily slasher-movie-esque.
Later on, he told me that he was really looking for me to spill his guts on how he knew my brother and to apologize for freaking out and running away from me. For some unexplainable reason, he still had that dumb and twisted, mangled and nearly lethal pop can in his hand. Realizing he didn't have enough time to plow her over, he threw it at her instead, distracting her concentration tenfold, kindly leaving all of Larxene's Zexion-stabbing thoughts to the wind.
Larxene then turned to see what exactly hit her in the back of the head, forgetting about me for a moment. I saw that scissors were still sticking out of my shoulder, and took the opportunity to punch her in the stomach with my good arm.
And right down she went.
I wanted to hit her in the face, squash her nose and hear that satisfying crunch that always accompanies a broken nose, you know? But, tragically, I remembered that she was technically considered a girl and had to be treated as such. Even if she was a fucking rusty-scissor-stabbing-psycho-bitch.
So all notions of pulverizing her were dismissed.
A faint, "Which room, Nam?" rang out from somewhere down the hall. Help, I remember thinking blearily. Things were getting a bit hazy and my head was drooping onto my chest a bit. Too heavy to hold up as more blood flowed from my shoulder wound.
Against everything I've ever read, been taught, or seen on television, I pulled the scissors from my chest and dropped them, the scissors clattering to the floor, within Larxene's blasted reach. This is when the blood began flowing harder in a steady stream from my shoulder, pumping out and an alarming rate, dripping down my favorite hoodie that Demyx had given me last year for Christmas.
In my current pained and shocked state, and in my own defense, I wasn't quite thinking clearly enough to realize that such a dangerous weapon should not be resting so closely to the one who I like to call The Deranged Bitch.
Roxas, however (i.e luckily), was thinking clearly and tried to dive for the scissors. However, he did not make it in time as he had to dive over her to get to them.
Her fingers again closed around the scissors and she made a sweeping plunge at Roxas' leg. The scissors hit him right in the meat of his calf. And down he went.
"You mother fucking bitch!" Axel's voice screetched at the blonde girl from where he stood in the doorway. I remember thanking him in my head for so perserveringly stalking Roxas. His obsession with the boy saved our lives.
Axel's foot connected solidly with her hand, sending the scissors flying across the tiny room to land somewhere behind me. This was so eerily similar to Roxas earlier kicking that stupid jagged pop can from hands that I started laughing. Hysterically, my body shaking with each and every odd giggle that escaped me. A giddy sort of cold was engulfing me then, as blood continued running down my arm and chest, going drip drip drip onto the floor next to me.
My quickly fogging mind also made the connection that it wasn't all that long ago that I was in a situation scarily similar to the current one, with the exception that I didn't do it to myself this time.
Axel pressed his foot to her neck, eyes cold, and really giving her only two options. One was to move and have her larynx squashed just like the insect she was, and exactly like she deserved. Or two, stay still. Which she obviously saw as the best (and safest) route to choose.
"You stabbed my friend, you stabbed my man, this won't go without consequence," Axel hissed down at the now shivering Larxene. She wasn't shivering in fear however, but because she was laughing hysterically in such a way that it rivaled my own currently insane cackling. But I, at least, had an excuse, or so I told myself.
"Namine?" Axel said.
"Yes?" the tiny blonde said quietly, stepping forth into the room. I hadn't even realized she was there. Her face was so abnormally pale that I for a second considered the possibility that Larxene might have gotten to her before she had even found me in the phone room.
"Go get Leon or Cloud or someone. Now! Before I do something I regret. These two need help, they're both bleeding. A lot. Oh God, a lot."
The giddy feelings quickly dissipated, leaving me mournful as I came crashing quickly down from my injury-induced euphoria.
"Axel?" I remember saying to him as I lay there on the ground, clutching my injury. "Say good-bye to Demyx for me. And tell him that I love him, will you? I have to go be with my brother now."
He rolled his eyes in the typical Axel fashion. "Imbecile," he muttered. "You are definitely not dying. I wouldn't let you get killed by this cow."
Larxene growled at the insult. Like she had the right to be upset. Stupid psycho-bitch.
"Okay, well good-night then!" I announced before passing out.
And then I passed out.
—
Let us switch to Demyx's end of things for the time being, shall we? At this current point in time, he was going out of his mind, one set of fingers running through his blond hair in a nervous gesture he had picked up a very long time ago.
"ZEXION?" he had yelled into the phone, speaking probably harsher that he ever had in his life. He wasn't known for his excessive usage of the vulgarities. "Mother fucker! Zexion, what the hell is going on?"
Somehow in process of all the stabbing and throwing and would-be insect-squashing, I had hung up the phone, leaving Demyx completely and utterly alone out in left field. Silly me, but I hadn't even supplied him with a glove. He continued to shout into the phone for a while, even after he heard the dial tone serenading him.
See, all Demyx had actually heard was my whisper of, "Oh shit!" And then the screaming. And then absolutely nothing.
It took Demyx a short while to realize that the ever-annoying dial tone was blaring in his ear, but we should all give him a break. I mean, he did just hear the love of his life scream like a friggin banshee over a phone from where he was currently locked up with the rest of the nuts. I say he deserves a break, but that could just be my bias as I just so happen to be the afformentioned love of his life.
Rational Demyx would not have panicked, would have hauled out the nearest phonebook and called the front desk of Oblivion Treatment Center and gotten the complete 4-1-1 on what was going down within their walls.
Rational Demyx would not have stolen his parents' car and driven it all the way to Oblivion. He also would not have dragged his equally-excitable and hyperactive little brother and little brother's boyfriend all the way to Oblivion in the car he helped steal from his parents.
Rational Demyx would not. But Irrational Demyx did all of the above.
He had been upstairs in his bedroom while on the phone with me, absentmindedly strumming on his guitar. Twelve seconds after he realized he had been hung up on, he was flying down the stairs and into the kitchen where his parents, who were both still at work, had left the keys for him or Sora to use in case of emergency, knocking over the small Island in the middle of the kitchen, which, in itself, was quite the feat as it was very heavy.
But this was an emergency, one that he failed to warn his parents about.
"Demyx?" Sora said groggily, his eyes looking to be in quite the glazed over fashion as he had been recently engaging in a rather heated make out session with Riku on the couch in the living room. "Demyx, what's going on?"
"Zexion screamed," Demyx said in a squeaky sort of voice. "Fuck!" he cursed as he tripped over the coat rack, which fell into the painting that crazy old Uncle DiZ had given their family for Christmas a few years back. The painting then crashed into the ground, cracking the frame and taking a certain prized glass end table down with it. His parents really should have known better and had the house Demyx/Sora-proofed ages ago.
Gracefulness was definitely not Dem's forte. And that is an understatement.
"He...screamed?" Riku asked blearily. He, too, wasn't quite with it at that moment.
"Yeah, screamed and then hung up the phone! I have to go see him! I have to know if he's alright!"
"Where are you going?" Sora asked, getting up off of the couch and following Demyx out the front door, Riku trailing behind, shutting the door.
"Oblivion. He's in trouble. The nuts got him, I just know it!"
Sora nodded in affirmation. "Well then I'm coming too! Zexion is like a brother to me and I want to know he's okay the second you do!"
"You can't come," Demyx said faint, not actually aware of what he had just uttered.
"And why not?" Riku demanded. "Give us one good reason why we shouldn't come?"
"Well...I might get killed driving up there."
"No you won't," Riku said, snatching the keys from Demyx's hand. "I'll drive. We all know that you're a terrible driver, especially under any kind of stress."
"Okay..." Demyx agreed faintly. It didn't help that he was a little loopy from the Morphine that he was still taking as he had only just been released from the hosptital.
No one even bother mentioning that it would have proved hard to drive indeed with a cast on, and other countless injuries.
The three boys made it up to Oblivion Treatment Center in nearly a third of the time that it normally takes, Riku speeding, but carefully, the entire way with Demyx sporadically encouraging him to drive faster.
Sora glanced sadly back at his older brother, who was currently staring listlessly out the window of the back seat. It was decided that the back seat was safest for him as he might try to do something stupid, like take the wheel from Riku. And that would have been very dangerous for them all.
I really hurt Sora so see Demyx so distraught with everything that had happened to him recently. Comforting me after Hayner, who had really been everyone's friend, died. Watching me slowly destroy himself. Putting up with my being sent away after I was caught cutting myself. Getting beaten up and being (obviously) too scared to name the fiends who did it.
And now this. We can just never catch a break, can we?
It just really hurt him to know that his big brother, usually so joyful and exuberant, his big brother whom he had always looked up to and wanted to be just like, was now so sad all of the time.
Riku pulled the car into Oblivion's parking lot (compliments going out to a GPS unit on helping him find his way there as Demyx wasn't exactly in condition for giving directions at the moment), sliding the car between a motorcycle and a beat-up red pick-up with a bumper sticker that read Cyclopses Unite!
"Demyx," Sora said softly when his brother didn't immediately jump from the car, "Demyx, we're here."
"Right," Demyx said, then jumping from the car and storming to the door. Sora jumped out to follow.
"Should we call your parents and tell them where we are?" Riku asked.
"Later," Sora said, at Demyx's heels. Riku seriously doubted if Sora had even heard what he had said.
Once inside, Demyx marched to the front desk, drawing nearer to the perky young ninja. He remembered her from the last time he was here. "I'd like to know what is going on with Zexion Schemer," he said with the most self-assurance he had probably ever shown in his life.
"You're Zexion's boyfriend, aren't you?" the short girl asked. What was her name? Yuffette? Yuffa? Something odd like that...
"I am. I was on the phone with him when he screamed and hung up. I drove all the way up here to find out what the fuck is going on." He tried his hardest to keep his voice even. It was scarcely working.
"Well, if you would have called, then I could have told you that he is currently being treated at Hollow Bastion Memorial in the next town over. Oblivion doesn't have a general hospital, you see..."
But they were already out the door.
o.O.o
Mr. and Mrs. Nocturne arrived home around six to find their front door unlocked and their two sons (and presumably younger son's best friend who never really seemed to go home) and car missing, with house apparently ransacked.
They proceeded to call the police.
o.O.o
"I repeat, may I have Zexion Schemer's room number?" Demyx asked, his face very red from frustration.
"And I repeat, are you family?"
"I'm his boyfriend!"
"But not blood-related?" the nurse asked, with an eye-brow raised.
Demyx's only response was an exasperated, "Ahhh!" He slammed his fist viciously on the desk before turning away, his fingers again running through his blond hair in frustration.
Riku strolled up to the front desk then. "Zexion is my older brother," he said, worry clouding his features. His turquoise eyes even filled with tears. Did I ever mention what a good actor Riku was?
The nurse smiled sweetly at Riku. "He's in room 69 on the first floor," she said, her face flushed.
Riku winked at her and bid her good day.
As the three boys walked away, Sora laughed. "I cannot believe that actually worked! You don't look anything like Zexion!"
I know, I had agreed when events were later related to me. I'm much better looking. Demyx sided with me. Now that's loyalty folks.
"It's a gift..." he said nonchalantly.
Demyx didn't hear any of this, though, as he was charging down the hall, looking for room 69. Upon finding it, he held his breath and stepped inside, expecting to discover that my face had been hacked off or that my leg was amputated or a huge gaping hole in my abdomen where my spleen used to reside, not prime real estate on the black market.
He has quite the imagination.
From his point of view, he could see that I was pale, bandaged, and wincing, but awake, with face and limbs and spleen still, from what he could see, in tact. Sighing deeply in relief, he smiled as he neared me, whispering, "I seriously hope that you're not going to make a habit of getting admitted into hospitals."
I smiled up at Demyx then, reaching for his hand with my good arm. Grasping it, I planted a delicate kiss upon his hand, noting the yellowing, yet still visible, bruises upon it.
"I'll try not to," I murmured, feeling happier than I had in ages despite the fact that I had almost cut myself to ribbons and had actually been stabbed all earlier in this very day.
None of that mattered anymore, because this was now. And this was Demyx.