Sometimes, it wasn't so forced. It was an elaborate game of pretend, of course, and we both knew that. They were the nights where Marluxia didn't invite Larxene. Sometimes he opened a bottle of wine or spread flower petals in my hair as it fanned out across the pillow. They were the nights where we didn't talk about Xemnas or Kingdom Hearts or power.

I realized too late that the evenings I spent with Marluxia had become a habit. And, as Nobodies relied on habit and order, it had inherently become less threatening. I would brush my hair and perhaps scrub my hands of any remaining chemicals before portaling up to him. And he would be waiting, a rose outstretched in his hand. It was almost a sweet gesture, but he never removed the thorns. After the weeks, my fingers had nearly been pricked raw from carelessly accepting it.

The nights were followed by mornings. White bedsheets were pulled taught over his chest and the dark shadows of the window frames ran across the room like grating. I only ever stayed the night a few times, usually when I couldn't be bothered to hate him as vehemently.

I think those nights and mornings were the only good thing about what happened in Castle Oblivion.

There were so many bad things that had happened. I had lost track of the number of times Vexen had tried to push me away, claiming I was hurting him and I never listened. There were many nights where his pleasure had gone unaccounted for.

One night, though…one night he looked at me with those green eyes and there was something missing. All that vile hatred had drained out of them. Perhaps it was because we had actually bothered with faux-tender foreplay. Or maybe it was just the small way I insisted he stay, just for five more minutes. We hadn't bitten, scratched, fought… he turned to me and said, "What will you do?"

"What do you mean? Now? Sleep."

"No. I mean, when you take over."

We rarely talked about it in those terms. But it was better to be blunt. We both knew what was going on. "I'm not sure now is a good time to discuss it. You look like you'll fall asleep soon."

"Then make it brief," he said. One bony shoulder poked above the blankets. There were two freckles there, I had come to learn. For some reason, I could never bring myself to bite that shoulder, as if those freckles were more sensitive than the rest of the skin there. I bit his other shoulder instead, when I felt the need to. I hadn't tonight. His neck was devoid of marks, though his mouth had been thoroughly kissed into a light shade of red.

"Xemnas is an insane man," I said. "You know this. I simply wish to procure a way to gain our hearts back in a way that is more reasonable than his. If I manage to affiliate myself with more power, it is purely by chance."

"Really, I never thought you would bother to create such trivial lies around me."

"I never thought you'd expect me to answer honestly."

His eyes flickered to the ceiling. "Touché." Vexen probably could have argued more, but perhaps he was just tired.

I watched him for a moment as his body relaxed. It was such a vulnerable form—brittle bones and bruisable flesh. Amazing how the man inside could make that body so defensive. "All you need to know," I whispered, reaching out to brush a finger over the freckles of his shoulder, "Is that when the time comes, you will be spared. And you will be above those who did not choose to follow me."

He slowly nodded. Perhaps he was already half asleep, perhaps he simply didn't care to approve more than he felt he needed to. By the time I leaned over to kiss his shoulder, he was already asleep.

Marluxia thought only of those evenings. Moments like those were the only things that could possibly allow Vexen to look him in the eyes again. He clung to those memories, wrote them down hundreds of times. On walls, on paper, on floors. Any world he had visited bared his story and memory of those evenings he longed not to forget. In his breast pocket, he carried a small folded page ripped from a diary he had thrown away a long time ago. Written on it was every detail he remembered about Vexen the first day he saw him genuinely smile. He planned on giving it to him if he saw him again. So that even if he refused to talk, he could still read and maybe come to understand…

The four of them sat down in a dark room on the other side of town. They'd had to walk there, but it gave them time to talk about how they showed up in Xigbar's world. The one-eyed man flipped a coin the whole time. And, when Larxene got fed up and snatched the coin out of midair, he flipped his hat for the rest of the walk instead.

"So you mean to tell me," he leaned over a cup of coffee. "You're all here out to find the rest. And you want me to come with?"

"We need you to come with us," Marluxia explained. "Resonance would pull us back if you didn't."

"Uh-huh." Xigbar chewed on the side of his cheek. He looked undecided for a moment, but then leaned back in his chair. "Alright, then. I'm always up for a good ride. Been getting boring around here anyway."

Zexion doubted things were getting 'boring' on Xigbar's half of the universes. He'd never been able to keep anything dull. At the very least, he was just itching for some other world to conquer and goof around in. But the schemer was at least a little pleased. He'd been worried about being pushed around by Marluxia and Larxene, but the new addition to their 'team' would balance things out. He and Xigbar had never been especially close, but their history as apprentices solidified their loyalty.

They spent that night on cots in the back of a warehouse. Xigbar left, saying he had 'unfinished business.' When morning rolled around, he stumbled through the door with several black cases and a bullet hole through the brim of his fedora. But he was still grinning as he walked over to the foot of Marluxia's cot and tossed one of the cases onto his lap. The springs squeaked at the sudden weight.

"Early Christmas, boys. And lady." He tossed Larxene and Zexion each a case, too.

Confused (and ruffled, as Xigbar bursting in was somewhat of a rude awakening), Marluxia flipped open the latches on the case and lifted the lid. Inside was a rifle. He blinked. "You can't be serious…"

Zexion and Larxene lifted the lids to their machine gun and Winchester.

"Sorry it's not the usual quality, but I was kinda in a pinch." Xigbar shrugged with a lopsided grin. "I just figured we'd need a little something extra."

"Wow," Larxene murmured, eyes shining. "I'm impressed, old man. Who knew you gave such good Christmas gifts? And here I was, just going to get you a pair of socks."

"Thank me later, then," he cocked his hat, hand on hip.

They stepped into a portal an hour later, guns either holstered or strapped to their backs. When they emerged, they were confronted by a giant white object that towered above them. They were on a steep hillside, knotted with brambles and desert greenery. It took a second of stepping back to see that the giant white object was actually an 'O'. It took even more steps back to see that it was actually a mammoth sign that read 'HOLLYWOOD.'

Vexen sat at the common room table with a pen in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. The screams of test sirens in the background walked intermittently, but that was routine for the second Tuesday of every month. He always wondered what would happen if an emergency happened on the second Tuesday of one month…it could very likely go unnoticed.

"Dr. Dunner," one of his associates, younger, walked up to him, clutching a manila folder with something written in red on the outside. "Dr. Williams sent me. He said he'd like to speak with you."

Vexen frowned, but was not terribly worried. His research had been progressing well, so perhaps there was just a small element that the project leader had wanted to discuss with him. He pocketed his pen and left his half-empty coffee mug in the faculty sink to come back and wash later. "Right away?"

"Right away, Sir. I don't know what it's about but…"

Vexen gave him an appreciative look and thanked him and headed toward the supervisor's office. It was just one hallway from the common room at the research facility and the door was open. He let himself in and closed the door behind him. The radio was on playing a catchy, bubbly tune. But when Williams turned around in his chair, it was clear the radio was not very fitting for this moment. The man's thick brows knotted, slightly aged jaw line drooping with concern. "Dr. Dunner. Please sit."

Vexen did, smoothing his pullover. "Is there something wrong?" It was obvious something was. Williams had leaned over to switch the radio off, cutting the room into complete silence.

"Yes. This is an…odd situation." He began, steepling his knotted fingers. "You know of my connections in the government agencies working on some of the projects related to ours."

"I do," Vexen nodded. The first thing that went through his mind was the terrifying prospect that someone in the government was stealing his research. "Please, go on."

"I just got word…from one of my friends of a rather shocking discovery." Williams planted his eyes on a report in front of him, refusing to move from that spot. "He'd been working in communications. Radio transmissions, really. He'd been trying to use radio waves to pick up on some orbiting objects just outside of the atmosphere. But in the recording he got back, well…I think you should listen."

"This isn't Area 51," Vexen noted with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, forgetting that particular reference would not have made any sense at that point in time. He often got ahead of himself.

"Just listen." The project supervisor pulled a record from a slim folder. He put in the player, turning it so the speaker grating was facing Vexen.

At first, it was just static. And then, faintly, wafted a voice from the void. "H-hey…is anybody there?" There was more static for a while, in which Vexen glanced up to Williams to catch his white face staring intently at the record player. He looked back down at the voice began again, eerie and distant. "Hey, listen…um. If there's anyone there, I just…I just have a few questions, okay? Don't get freaked out, because I'm totally not going to do anything weird, but, um…I'm from another world. Right now, I guess. But I'm looking for people…so if you have these people…um…" There was a crinkling of paper, as if someone was opening a list. "Xemnas. Xigbar. Xaldin. Vexen. Lexaeus…" And the list kept going. But Vexen barely heard the rest. He was rigid in his seat.

Dr. Williams shot a look at Vexen. Both of their faces were drawn.

"Tell me this is a prank, Dr. Dunner. Tell me this is just a nephew or someone that just happened to be on the radio at the right frequency at the right time…"

Slowly, Vexen shook his head. "I have no family. But this is…it's…impossible." Names he hadn't heard in three years were finally being spoken aloud. He had to wonder if he was a hallucination of some sort…bad coffee, bad creamer…

The record fizzled out and went silent for a few seconds. Then it started up again. "H-hey….is anybody there?..."

The blonde academic swallowed something thick in his throat. "Would it be possible for me to…to talk with the scientist who recorded this? I mean, what he's recording…has there been any more transmissions? Anything?"

"Not that I know of. This only happened a few days ago, and it's only by chance I recognized your name. It's a…very odd first name, I must say."

"Serbian," he automatically replied, eyes wide and fixed on the still-playing radio.

"…Lexaeus. Zexion. Saïx. Axel. Luxord. Marluxia. Larxene. So yeah. If anyone's out there…I want to come find you. Later, um…over and out, I guess?"