AN: Niffstral loved this chapter, even though it bothers me. Thanks, Niff. A note about the rating of this story: when I started writing it, I had the beginning and ending firmly in mind, but the middle was a mystery to me. I didn't know how much swearing I was going to use, how violent it would be (original endings all involved character death, gunned down by Turks), or how much sexual content there would be. Will it ever earn the M rating? Ha ha, you'll see. Thanks to LiteraryMirage, terracannon876, Yumeoni, luckless-is-me, Imitation Black, NiffStral, Knut Case, Chubby-King-Chocobo, Schizo-of-Destiny, and Otaku-Michiyo for reviewing. I'm especially glad to hear that some of you catch on to my plot twists, while some of you are still floundering in the dark. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts. I swear.

Chapter 11: Ansem the Wise and Hurricanes

Until I was 13, I lived a fairly normal life. Admittedly, I was in high school, which is unusual. People called me a genius, which is, again, not normal. But, while I was the weird kid at school, my home-life was perfectly typical. We were a normal sized happy family, slightly blended because of my father's first marriage.

It was Ansem the Wise that ruined that. My older brother had just gone into the army when one of Ansem's representatives came to us. The message was clear: Ansem the Wise wants your younger son. Things will be easier for your older son if you hand him over. My parents weren't having that. They wanted me to live my own life, and they were confident that Lexaeus could handle himself.

Apparently, they had a plan in place, in the event that my parents were unwilling to hand me over. The plan went like this: kidnap the daughter and hold her hostage until everyone else fell into line. They did exactly that. My parents were left with a terrible choice, and I wouldn't allow them to make it. I agreed to go to Ansem after graduating college. Until I was within the confines of that wretched castle, they would keep Xion. As long as I behaved myself, she would be fine. She would be cared for and educated.

Part of the agreement was that, after graduating high school, I would not go back to my parents. They would not come to see me. There would be no communication between us. For my parents, Ansem the Wise had just stolen two children from them, and the third was under his control. They fell into despair, and I left them that way.

Ansem thought that my talents would be best put to use in Computer Science, so that is what I studied. I threw myself into it wholeheartedly, dedicating my sleepless nights to new programming languages. In my second year of college, I decided to show Ansem that I couldn't be controlled, and became Ienzo. It was at this time that he decided to harass me with late night phone calls. He must have been trying to tighten my leash. I've never hated a person more in my entire life, yet when I graduate, I'm doomed to spend the rest of my life in that castle. With him.

What did I do in a past life to deserve this?

Thinking about it rationally, Zexion knew he needed to put more thought into this Organization XIII business. His initial reaction had been to freak out, which was unlike him, to say the least. After taking some time to ponder, Zexion realized that he didn't know where to go from there. So they looked like dead Nobodies. What effect did that have on their lives? Did it mean something, or was it a coincidence?

He could believe that Axel and Roxas had some kind of karmic bond, especially after their initial meeting. But would that affect anyone else? No. A bond between soul mates (Zexion was tentatively calling them that, anyway) doesn't affect other people. It wouldn't drag other people along for the ride on the wheel of reincarnation. Probably. Zexion didn't know a whole heck of a lot about matters of "mysticism." He considered himself a practical person, and practical people didn't get hung up over reincarnation.

So, while Zexion knew why Ansem the Wise would have them all detained in gummiport security, he didn't really have any more answers. So, he calmed Demyx down (no easy feat once he was riled up), threw the book out the window (not really. He settled for throwing it across the room), and thought of it no more.

Well, until he brought Demyx into the kitchen for some food, and saw what had become of the invalids. Axel and Roxas had fallen asleep on the couch, and they were leaning on each other, which explained how they were still sitting up.

"That's so cute…" Demyx whispered rapturously, completely forgetting about food.

"I'm surprised they can still sleep," Zexion remarked, speaking at his normal volume. "All they've been doing for the past week and a half is sleep."

"That reminds me! Have you been sleeping any better lately, Zexy?" The concern mirrored in Demyx's eyes made Zexion guilty for continuing to keep late hours.

"I no longer dream the way I used to," Zexion allowed. "So my sleep hasn't been disturbed by them." He opened the refrigerator, moving things around in his quest for edibles.

Demyx wasn't fooled. "But you haven't been sleeping any more than before, have you?"

"Would you prefer the truth or a lie?"

Demyx stamped his foot childishly. "The truth, obviously!"

"Fine." Zexion never once turned to face Demyx. "I haven't changed my sleeping habits, and I don't believe that I will be changing them any time soon."

"But why?"

Zexion had three seconds to invent a plausible excuse. 3… 2… "Would you be able to sleep in the room next to them?" Zexion gestured in Axel and Roxas's general direction. If he had actually turned around to look, he would have noticed a very unconvinced Demyx. A very unconvinced (but not about to probe) Demyx, standing with his hands on his hips, and his lips pursed. But since Demyx had a secret too, he knew when to stop.

"I guess not," Demyx allowed, keeping his tone neutral.

"I don't believe I've ever had so many questions for you at once, Ienzo."

"For a man that I trapped inside his castle, you don't sound very angry," Zexion observed calmly, lying back on his bed. He'd been fortunate enough to have "radio silence" (as he called it) for the entire week of Ansem's castle imprisonment, and he'd enjoyed the peace.

"I am more interested in how you were able to discover the password to that old computer," Ansem remarked. Zexion was a bit disturbed by how good a mood the man seemed to be in.

"Read a history book. They don't come out and say it, but it surprises me that a man of your alleged intelligence couldn't discover such a simple password," Zexion taunted, smiling at the wall. "Not that it matters any more, though. I changed the password."

"To what?"

"Like I would tell you. That computer is a goldmine of information." Probably. He hadn't actually tried to get any information out of it.

"Ienzo…" Ansem's tone held a warning. Zexion couldn't bring himself to take it seriously.

"I don't have to tell you anything. And if you waste my sister's life over something like this, what would you use to keep me in line?" Actually, Zexion had a feeling that Ansem had a recently developed contingency plan. Very recently developed. As in, within the last month.

"I'd rather not have this discussion, Ienzo. You will give me the password eventually. In the meantime, I have another question."

"Shoot."

"What could you possibly hope to accomplish by sealing me in my castle for a week?' Ansem sounded amused at Zexion's feeble attempt to trouble him.

"A month would have been a more noteworthy length of time," Zexion agreed. "But it wasn't about actually doing harm. I prefer not to do harm to any innocents that you may have involved. As for the rest, well… a magician never reveals his secrets."

There was chuckling on the other end. Zexion wasn't sure what the appropriate reaction was to a man that tore your family apart finding you amusing. The standard reaction would be some form of anger, wouldn't it?

"Ienzo…" Ansem resumed, recovering from his laughter. "How much longer can you rebel in this fashion? You must be almost out of ideas."

Seriously. The idea for the last one came from a dream. What could he do after that? It would be so easy if he didn't have to watch how much of threat Ansem considered the attack. Then again, if that weren't a consideration, he probably wouldn't have had the need to become a hacker in the first place.

"Ienzo?"

Zexion's attention returned to the present. "I had no response. My plans are my business."

"Very well," Ansem allowed. "Tell me, did the kidnapping incident end with your music student knowing something that he shouldn't?"

"He claims not to recall anything from that day."

"You don't believe him." Ansem sounded surprised.

"He is the blunt type, and a very poor liar. Of course I believe him." Zexion did believe him. Mostly.

"You don't sound certain."

"I have a lot on my mind," Zexion admitted.

"Would you care to talk about it?" Zexion didn't like the concern in Ansem's voice. He couldn't help but remember what Vexen said: 'I suppose you must be his favorite.'

"I don't think you can help me. Matters of superstition are not worth consulting over."

"Superstition?"

"There is an old historical figure to whom I bear a strong resemblance. That's all." If you ignored all the other people in his life who also looked a lot like related historical figures, anyway.

Ansem fell silent. That was not the reaction that Zexion had been expecting. He waited such a long time for some kind of acknowledgment that he checked his phone to make sure that the call hadn't been disconnected or something.

"You have nothing to say to this?"

"As you said, matters of superstition are not worth consulting over," Ansem replied calmly, brushing the matter off.

Yeah, he was obviously hiding something.

"Is this conversation over?" Zexion inquired innocently.

"For the moment," Ansem agreed. "Shall I pass on a message to your sister?"

"The usual." The line went dead, and Zexion dropped the phone carelessly.

He checked the clock by his bed. 2:00 A.M. Not too late, then. Upon hearing Axel and Roxas "start up" in the next room (why so late, Zexion wondered? Well, since they had both been deemed healthy enough, time hadn't seemed to matter to them), Zexion rolled out of bed, jammed his feet into his shoes, and took off into the night.

Demyx dreamed of blue eyes. Angry blue eyes, full of hate, an emotion that seemed wrong for those eyes. The eyes were always close to him, and he knew that if they got too far away, it would be over. If the eyes stepped back, it would be because Demyx couldn't fight anymore. But Demyx wasn't a fighter. He never was. He was just a musician, dammit! Always just a musician…

His hand was strangely light… Hadn't he been holding something? He remembered holding something… Now his whole body was light, like it was fading away… No! No, no, no! He couldn't die here… not like this… not killed by him.

Demyx woke up when the water consumed him. He took in deep, gasping breaths, trying to calm down and let the terror leave him. It had been 12 years since he'd had that dream, the one with blue eyes and death, only now those crystal blue eyes were familiar. From where, though?

Knock-knock, went the door. Demyx considered ignoring it; he was in no state to talk to someone right now. He knew that he wouldn't be getting back to sleep though, so he rolled out of bed, his legs shaking slightly as he walked, and went to answer the door. On the other side, Demyx was met with a blue eye. It was different from the one in his dream, though. It was a darker, deeper blue, and the shape was different. And he could only see the one. That was important somehow.

"Z-Zexion?" Demyx choked out, speaking with some difficulty. "Wha-… What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep," Zexion offered calmly, though Demyx's shaky speech and posture were beginning to worry him. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

Demyx let out a laugh that was more like a choked sob, and dragged Zexion inside. Once Zexion was fully inside, and the door was closed, Demyx collapsed into Zexion's arms, leaving the shorter man to keep him from crashing onto the ground. "I'm glad you came," he murmured into Zexion's hair.

"Are you feeling all right, Demyx?" Zexion's concern meter was rising quickly.

"I feel a lot better with you here," Demyx admitted, allowing himself to be led to the couch, and pulled into a sitting position.

"Did something happen?"

"I just… had a bad dream. One that I had when I was a kid. It was a pretty intense dream, so it's a bit hard to function right now," Demyx murmured, clinging to Zexion tightly. "Do you mind if we just stay like this for a while?"

"I don't mind at all," Zexion answered quietly. "I am imposing on you, so if I can help you in any way…"

"Thank you…"

After sitting like that on the couch for hours, Demyx managed to fall into dreamless sleep when the first rays of the sun peeked into his apartment window. Zexion fell asleep soon after, ignoring the implications of sunrise.

"I dreamt about dying," Demyx explained over a cup of coffee (black. Very black). "There was water, darkness, and crystal blue eyes."

"Which of those was responsible for your death?" Zexion asked, feeling concern well up again.

"I think it was the eyes. The water and the darkness came after I was beyond saving. I think they both came from me, if that makes any sense," Demyx murmured, taking a healthy swig of his coffee.

"And you've had this dream before?"

"Uh-huh. When I was 9." Demyx laughed lightly. "Why am I even telling you about it, anyway? It's not like there's anything you can do about a dream, especially when they're a problem for you, too."

"I won't pretend that I can help you in any material way," Zexion agreed. "But there are those who believe that talking about a bad dream can help prevent its return. There is no harm in trying." Especially since they'd slept the whole day away.

Demyx ran his hands through his hair in agitation, and poured the rest of his coffee down the drain. Even after such a peaceful sleep, he just couldn't calm down. He could still see those eyes boring into him, wishing him a speedy end. He could feel his life force flowing away, like water in a stream. It was like his nerve endings were all on high alert, and had become hypersensitive. He would jump if anything touched him without warning, even a breeze. Demyx really… really didn't want to die.

"Zexy, didn't you tell me before that you once dreamt of dying?" Demyx's voice held a hint of desperation, though Zexion knew not what he was desperate for.

"Yes, when I was six."

"Would you mind… telling me about it?" Demyx was begging, though his tone was reasonably normal. His eyes however were not.

"I suppose that would be all right. I still remember it fairly well." Zexion cleared his throat, and his visible eye took on a faraway cast. "It was dark, and I was weak. Weaker than I've ever felt before. I saw malevolent malachite eyes, and enraged sea green ones. I remember thinking that there was something odd about the owner of the sea green eyes, like he was something that shouldn't exist in this world. He grabbed me… and I felt my life flowing away from me. The last thing I saw were the malevolent malachite eyes, before I fell into darkness."

Demyx thought that that was a terrible dream for a six year old to have. He could also see why Zexion spoke of it so calmly: there was a clear flow with this dream, unlike what he had described before.

"Now that I think on it," Zexion continued, "those eyes are familiar somehow."

"I got that feeling too!" Demyx announced excitedly. "I didn't when I had the dream the first time, but now I feel like I've seen those blue eyes somewhere before."

Zexion opened his phone and began sifting through the miniscule amount of pictures on it, to see if anything triggered his memory. He stopped on a picture of Axel holding Roxas in a headlock. His eyes traveled upward, from Roxas's slightly irritated face to Axel's laughing face, until his eyes met Axel's. Deep blue met malachite. He snapped the phone shut suddenly, jamming the device back in his pocket.

"Zexy?" Demyx was staring at him. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. I just remembered that I didn't leave a note, nor have I called. From the perspectives of my roommates, I vanished overnight." His phone had alerted him to his several missed calls, and he likely had several frantic text messages as well. Well, when he left, he hadn't expected to sleep the day away.

What had he expected?

"You should probably call then," Demyx remarked, nodding. "Especially since you don't know when you'll be back."

What exactly did Demyx mean by that? Zexion probed Demyx's sea green eyes for the answer, and saw a tumult of emotions. Demyx was confused. It was probably connected to that goddamn book of legends. Zexion cursed ever getting that thing.

"Zexy, do you love me?" Demyx asked suddenly.

"Of course," Zexion replied calmly. He'd passed that point somewhere between salmon cakes and those desperate eyes.

The sea green eyes were closer, and continued to approach. Zexion found himself moving closer to them as well. Demyx brushed Zexion's long bangs aside. Their lips met.

Neither was certain when their kissing turned heated, only that it had. Neither was certain when their lips had separated, seeking more tender flesh, nor could they say when their shirts disappeared, or where they had gone. How they ended up on Demyx's bed, they knew not. They couldn't speak to when their last articles of clothing disappeared; they only knew that they were naked. Demyx marked the time when Zexion entered him (to engrave it in his memory), but he wasn't certain when Zexion had stopped thrusting into him. His mind was a whirl of hot flesh, breathy moans (his), and two blue eyes gazing down at him, their view utterly unobstructed.

Sleep came quickly to both. Neither dreamed.

AN: It's nice to know that some of you actually read this note down here... BTW, Demyx's chapter is still the longest... weird, huh?