I really thought this was going to turn out differently than it did, but I guess you really can't control a story. ^^'
Anyway, thanks to all those people who reviewed, favorited, and alerted.
((Demyx))
"Hey…Zexy? Are you…are you okay?" He doesn't say anything, he just nods, curling up and scooting a little closer to the window, hiding behind his hair. Hiding…hiding from me, and I know he's hiding from me, because I screwed up. I screwed up. "Umm…okay." I sigh, watching him out of the corner of my eye as we get just a little bit closer to home. I should be watching the road. I know I should. But, I can't stop watching him. I can't stop watching him for a sign. A sign of any kind that might…I don't know, make this okay, I guess. But, even I know that there won't be one. Even my so-called childish mind knows that there might not be any fixing this. But…
That doesn't mean I can't at least try.
"Is your arm…is your arm still bleeding?" I swallow, my grip tightening on the steering wheel as he fingers the cut on his arm through my now-ruined jacket sleeve. Please, just let him answer…don't let him lock himself away. Please…please don't let that happen. I silently beg, because…I can't let that happen. I just can't.
"…it…it's fine." He mumbles, shrouding more of his face behind his hair. He's trembling. Trembling like he did when he first woke up. He really thinks I'm going to hurt him. He really thinks that I'll be just like everyone else in his life.
"Zexion…" He doesn't say anything; he just pulls himself a little farther away from me, a little closer to the window. "Zexion.." I try again. And, I try so fucking hard. I really do. I don't want him to think I'm like everyone else, to think that I'm going to hurt him, because…I don't want to be like everyone else. I don't want to be that person that he fears. Because…because that's not who I am.
"Stop the car."
"Uh…Zexy, what…?"
"Stop the car!"
So, I do. I pull the car over into a vaguely familiar ditch and watch as he jumps out, slamming the door closed behind him. Is he really that scared of me? Have I really messed up so badly that he feels like he has to run from me? Have I really caused this? Hesitantly, I open my door and step out…to the most heart wrenching sight.
Zexion's curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach, puking his guts out.
Oh. Maybe that's why he wanted out. Maybe that's why he ran. Maybe…maybe he wasn't as frightened as I thought he was. It doesn't even matter. I can't let him stay like this.
I walk up behind him and pull his hair back away from his face, and I can feel it. I can feel his entire body shaking beneath my touch. His skin a little too feverish, a little too pale against my fingertips.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He mumbles, crying and pleading when he finally gets a break, when he should be breathing.
"Shh, shh. It's okay. It's okay." I know my words don't mean anything to him, not with him bending over again to get rid of the meager lunch I managed to get him to eat earlier, not with another fresh wave of tears pooling their way down his cheeks.
"No it's not. No it's not." He shakes his head, hysterical, lost, broken. "I-I…I didn't…I-"
"What the HELL?" Oh, have I ever been more thankful to hear that voice. Slowly, I turn my head to look at him, making sure to keep my hands on Zexion's hair as he bends down to lose whatever else it is that he has in his stomach.
"Help, please?" Axel just looks at me in shock, that bright red hair of his making him look feral in a way. In a way that I've always found comforting, because Axel…Axel's what brought me back when my parents died, when I hit the floor. He's always been right there. I know I can count on him for anything. And, this, this is no different.
"I find your rundown old car vandalizing my ditch and your friend puking his guts out on my lawn, and you're asking for help? Really, Dem?" He smiles that cocky smile of his. "What do you want me to do?"
"I-I…I don't know." I whisper, pulling Zexion back to rest against me, because…he doesn't look okay. He looks too broken, too weak, his eyes glazed over, staring into nothing.
"Just…give him to me. I'll take him inside. You…just bring your car up to the driveway, okay? You can explain this to me when you get inside." I nod, slowly letting him pick Zexion up bridal style, and I know he must be out of it, because he's not even protesting. He's just leaning back into him, like he'll do anything for warmth. I wait until Axel's half-way into the house before I get back in my car and pull it around to the driveway.
How could I have not noticed where I was? How could I have not known that Axel was right here? I've been to this house so many times. I've walked across this same patch of grass for years. How could I have missed this? How could I have not seen that beautiful brick house? That house that's like a second home? How could I have not seen it?
Maybe I really have changed.
Tentatively, I open the front door and walk inside, escaping the cold. And, everything's just how I remembered it. The same hardwood floors, the same burn mark on the sofa. The same red walls I helped paint. The TV still has the same names written on it in sharpies from back in high school. The wooden end table is still missing its glass top from shattering on moving day. That stupid moogle pillow is still sitting on the same chair, never to be touched outside of scary movie nights. It's exactly the same as it was. And, it's…
Its home.
((Zexion))
Everything hurts. Everything feels like it's falling apart, because…because I can't hold the pieces together anymore. Because I can't keep them from shattering into a million pieces, just like me. Because I can't keep the pieces from being just like me. I can't save them. I don't even know why I tried. I can't even save myself…let alone something else. I'm too worthless, too pathetic. I'm just a good-for-nothing slut, just like he said. I'm exactly what Xaldin said I was. I don't know why I felt like Demyx wanted me, no matter what he may have said. I'm not worth wanting. I'll never be worth anything.
I'm just worthless.
Nothing. Nothing at all. I'm not worth anyone's time. Anyone's trouble. Maybe my parents had the right idea about ignoring me, treating me like I never even existed. Maybe they knew. Maybe they've always known. Maybe…this is what's wrong with me. Maybe this nothingness is my problem, my fatal flaw. Maybe-
"Hey." I jump, holding myself a little tighter as this…person comes just a little closer. "So, I'm assuming you're Zexion? I'm Roxas." He smiles politely, waving at me just a little. He seems…nice with that small frame, honey blond hair, and deep blue eyes. I don't know why anyone would ever be nice to me. I'm not worth the trouble. Haven't they figured it out by now?
"Hi…" I mumble, staring at my thin, little toes as the shuffle along the floor. His smile falters for just a second and…he doesn't try to pull it back up. It's like he doesn't really care what I think. It's like…he's that person that isn't going to hurt me, but isn't going to coddle me either. And, I think, I think I like that.
"Come on. Axel says we need to wash your clothes." I look down at them. They look ruined. The knees of the borrowed jeans covered in dirt, blood on the sleeve, faint traces of vomit on my stomach. Yes…they're ruined. Will Demyx be angry with me because…of this? I didn't think he would be, but…he got so angry back at the apartment. Maybe, maybe he'll get angry with me too? I just…don't know.
Hesitantly, I follow behind this…Roxas as he leads me through a hall and into a large bedroom. He motions for me to sit down before disappearing inside a door on the right. I find myself falling back on the bed, shaking slightly as I pull my knees back up to the chest, my toes seeping into the plush bedding. This place…this place is nice. It doesn't have the same homey appeal that Demyx's house has, but it's nice, inviting even.
I think I could grow to like this place.
What am I thinking? I shouldn't be allowed to like anything. I shouldn't even be here. I should be out in the middle of the road, puking my guts out, alone. That's what I deserve, so why is it that Demyx would do anything to make sure that doesn't happen? That I don't get what I deserve? I don't understand…I don't understand anything about him.
"Here. Put these on." I blink, staring at the clothes being held out to me. "I think we're about the same size." I nod slowly, taking the clothes from him in my shaking hands. He just watches me watch them, my eyes glazed over in the slightest way. He sighs. "Do you need any help? I mean, your hands look pretty bad."
"No." I say a little too fast, biting my lip, tightening my grip, hoping, praying that they'll stop there infuriating shaking. They don't.
"Yeah. Okay. I'll be out in the hall." And, he leaves, fingering his blond hair with lithe little digits. He…he seems nice. Slowly, I pull the clothes Demyx let me borrow off; they practically slip down my frame, exposing my pale, sickly skin. My bruised, underdeveloped body. No, I could never be wanted. I could never be loved. That's just not even a possibility for someone like me.
____
"Where's Demyx?" I ask, sinking a little farther into the pillows as Axel covers me with another blanket, this one red and black, not nearly as comforting as the one with bubbles on it Demyx let me use.
"He went with Roxas to go and get some food from the place down the street. He said when he got back he was going to make you eat something. Even birds need food sometimes, whatever that's suppose to mean." I find myself smiling a little at that, curling up a bit more. Maybe Demyx doesn't hate me. Maybe he doesn't want to get rid of me. Maybe he's not like everyone else.
"It was just so easy to get him to slide his clothes off, to let me do whatever I wanted with him. He, it took me less than a day to get him into bed. Did you know he was that easy? He, maybe you do. Tell me, new toy, have you fucked him yet? Bent him over a bed? Seen that pale little body naked, bare? No? He. You should. He's the best fuckin' lay you'll ever have, I-"
"Shut the hell up!"
Maybe he is. I just don't know anything anymore. I don't know if Demyx is someone I can trust or not. I want him to be. I want him to be someone I can trust with anything. Someone I can feel safe with. I felt safe. I really did. I felt safe when he brought me back from the hospital, when he let me sleep in the same bed as him without having him touch me. Isn't that what it's like to feel safe? To feel wanted? To feel needed?
Something must really be wrong with me.
I can't even figure out my own feelings, let alone someone else's'. I can't tell a person how I feel, just like I can't tell them everything they would ever want to know about me, because I know what would happen. I know that they would hate me if they knew everything. I know that they couldn't accept me. Wouldn't accept me. And, he…
Oh, I hoped he could be different.
Would be different.
But, maybe, maybe I was wrong.
I think Zexion missed out on the part of childhood that teachs you how to interact with people.
Like, I said, this wasn't supposed to turn out like this, but I think I like it better this way. It seems to fit the characters a little more. And, look! The ever elusive Roxas finally makes an appearance! ^-^
R+R and you'll get another chapter soon!
