"Demysh...Demsh...where are ya?" Axel knocked more insistently, swaying a little. "Come on...I wanna talk t'ya..." He didn't receive a response, and hadn't received one yet, but in his intoxicated state, giving up never entered his mind. "Come on, Demsh...where are ya? Pleashe...I wanna talk t'ya..." No answer. "Demyyyysh...pleeeeashe..." It was starting to percolate through his whiskey-addled brain that maybe Demyx wasn't in his room. "Demysh...where are ya?..." He'd finally decided to give up and go away - if he still didn't get an answer in five minutes - when he heard a faint whimper. "Oh...there y'are...why woncha ansher? I wanna talk t'ya..." A soft gasp, and total silence. "Demysh?" Continued silence. "Come on, Demysh...I know you're in there shomewhere..." He tried the doorknob, and discovered it was locked. "Demysh?" Nothing. "Unlock a'door? Pleashe?" Now this was disturbing. Demyx had been so friendly recently. Why didn't he want to talk to him? Axel sniffled a little. "Pleashe, Demsh..." Wait, why didn't he just open a portal into Demyx's room? What a great idea...though it took him three or four tries to get the portal open. "Hiya, Demsh...uh...where are ya?" Axel started checking all the most illogical hiding places - under the bed, behind the cabinet, in the closet - and found Demyx crouched under the desk. "Hello, Demy. There you are. I found you."

Demyx didn't look very well - his face was white, and his eyes were bloodshot, like he'd been crying. "Axel, leave me alone...please..." he whispered.

Axel peered down at him curiously, and Demyx flattened himself against the wall. "Whatcha doin' down there, Demsh?"

Demyx whimpered faintly - his hands were shaking even more than Axel's, and Demyx hadn't been at the bar with the rest of them. Too young to come along. He couldn't be drunk too. "Please...leave me alone..." He was sobbing silently.

"Aw, Demy...whash wrong?" Axel reached down to help him out from under the desk, but Demyx kept wriggling out of his grip. "Why ya' cryin'?"

"Axel, please! Go away!" Demyx begged.

Axel frowned. "Whatcha sho shcared of?" Demyx whined in fear and tried to escape, but Axel caught him. He started screaming. "Ahh - shhh - hush - don' shcream like that..."

"Let me go!" Demyx screamed, squirming and struggling violently. "Please! Let go of me!"

Axel put a finger over the younger boy's lips. "Shhh...don' shcream like that..." Demyx suddenly slipped his grip and ran into the bathroom. A second later, Axel heard two loud thumps, the second louder than the first. He staggered into the bathroom and found Demyx lying unconscious on the floor with a good-sized lump growing on his forehead. "Uh oh. Guesh you mushta hit yer head on shomethin'." Axel dragged him back into his own room, lifted him onto the bed with some difficulty, dragged the blankets out from under him, then pulled them over him. "There ya go...you'll be okay..."

Demyx groaned and stirred slightly. "Fuck...my head..." he murmured, reaching up to touch the growing lump.

"You okay?" Axel asked, sobered slightly by this minor crisis.

Demyx groaned again. "My head...hurts like hell..." He opened his eyes and focused on Axel's face with some difficulty. "You smell...like an Irish distillery...oh, God, you're drunk." He tried to scramble away, but fell back, clutching his head. "Fuck..."

Axel frowned sympathetically. "Poor Demy. You hit your head."

Demyx glared at him blearily. "I kind of figured that out by myself."

Axel tried to stroke his hair reassuringly, but Demyx batted his hand away with remarkable speed for still being groggy. "What were ya runnin' from? What were you sho shcared of?" Demyx flinched away from him, and it started to work its way through the alcohol haze. "...Me?" He sniffled. "Why're ya shcared of me?"

"Because you're drunk," Demyx groaned.

Axel scratched his head in confusion. "Whasshat have'a do with it?" Demyx whimpered and rolled over to face the wall, but inadvertently put pressure on the lump on his forehead. He hissed in pain and rolled back over. Axel reached up to stroke his hair again, forgetting Demyx's reaction the first time, and his hand got batted away a second time. "Poor Demy. You're hurt. Why're you sho shcared?" Demyx struggled visibly for an answer, then started to cry helplessly. Axel, completely baffled by Demyx's behavior, couldn't think of anything better to do than hug him. "Ish all right...I won' hurt you...got it memors- morem- memos-" He sighed. "Got it?"

AN: ...Let's just assume Demyx has suffered from some nasty experiences at the hands of drunks. What did Axel want to talk about? Even he forgot...

Kind of a St. Patrick's Day special, though it won't be published until the 18th. At least I got the drunk Irishman.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, got it memorized?